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#a moodboard for how I've been feeling lately
fuckyeahdindjarin · 3 months
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A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard
{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: T
Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.
Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited
Word count: 2k
Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!
There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.
I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️
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Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.
He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.
Your sweater.
The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.
Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.
Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 
Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.
As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.
He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.
The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 
Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’
‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.
Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’
Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’
The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’
‘... A sweater.’
Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’
‘You think?’
‘Want me to go get Lucy?’
With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’
At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’
Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’
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Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 
The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.
Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.
He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.
‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’
Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’
‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 
A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.
He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.
‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’
‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.
He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 
‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.
Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.
You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’
He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’
His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’
He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’
You frown at him. ‘Why?’
‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’
You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.
He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.
Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.
Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.
Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’
You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’
Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’
You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’
Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’
Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.
And yet. 
You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 
‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.
He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’
You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 
‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’
He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’
‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’
Joel pauses. 
For him.
For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.
And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.
His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.
A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’
It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 
‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’
‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.
Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’
You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’
Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’
Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’
He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’
You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’
‘I know you are,’ he smiles.
‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’
His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’
You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.
In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’
His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’
‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.
‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.
You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’
Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’
You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’
Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.
Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.
He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.
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Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️
More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️
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nonclassyparty · 2 months
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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)
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summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine
pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)
(prologue; when we were kids)
and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school
6 and 8 years old;
Your mom helped you build the snowman.
An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.
The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.
(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)
After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.
Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.
"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.
Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.
"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.
All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.
"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"
But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.
"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.
You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.
They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!
She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."
"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face. 
"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.
"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.
"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"
You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"
She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."
So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.
-
"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!" 
Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.
When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it. 
The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!
He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.
Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.
But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!
It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else! 
The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.
You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.
Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.
-
10 and 12 years old;
"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!" 
Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.
He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.
Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.
"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.
And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.
"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"
"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.
Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.
"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.
"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.
Stupid Beomseok.
-
Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose. 
There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?
Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.
He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.
Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.
Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.
 Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek. 
Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.
Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.
The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.
Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl. 
Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.
Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.
"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.
"Wha-?"
And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.
"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.
Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.
"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.
(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)
-
14 and 16 years old;
Wooyoung has a girlfriend.
You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.
Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.
That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking. 
You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.
He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too. 
His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.
So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.
He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.
And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.
You even saw them kiss. Just once.
When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.
Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.
Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder. 
She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.
"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.
Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.
You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included)  but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.
You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.
Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.
Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.
You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.
High school was scary.
"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.
"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"
You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."
A crush. As if!
She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.
-
"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.
He snorts, "Yeah."
You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.
The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.
He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.
And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.
Since you're such a crybaby.
He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.
Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.
"I think she has a crush on you."
He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.
"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"
"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."
Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."
A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.
He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.
Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder. 
"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"
"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."
Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"
She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.
As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.
-
18 and 20 years old;
From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.
Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.
Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo. 
To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.
You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.
So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.
Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.
With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.
Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either. 
Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.
But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence. 
All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.
With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.
Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace. 
He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.
It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.
It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.
"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"
You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"
"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."
"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."
He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"
After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.
A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;
"Do I really look funny?"
"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."
"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.
Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.
Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.
Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.
"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"
"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.
"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."
Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.
You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.
An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.
"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.
"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"
"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"
The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"
"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."
He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.
"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."
"Girls....like that?"
"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."
"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.
"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.
But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.
Eunwoo was one of those guys.
"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."
"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.
"Yeah, I'll walk home."
"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"
"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."
"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"
You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."
So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.
If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.
Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.
You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).
Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.
Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.
But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.
"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.
That ends up being your last straw. 
You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.
Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.
He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.
You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.
Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.
He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.
Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something. 
It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.
-
"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand. 
He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.
"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.
You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.
"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."
"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.
"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"
"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"
Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.
The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"
You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.
But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."
Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."
His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"
"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.
"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"
Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.
"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.
"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.
"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."
Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."
Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.
Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.
"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.
Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."
He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."
Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"
You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."
Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.
But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-
"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."
Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.
There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.
"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.
It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,
"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.
"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"
"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."
Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.
Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-" 
"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.
When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."
You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.
"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.
Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.
He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.
When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.
But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.
Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand. 
Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk. 
"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.
Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."
His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.
Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."
He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.
Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.
"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."
Likely thing to happen.
The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.
Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.
Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.
He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."
Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.
You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."
Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."
He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."
Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.
Why can't you just be nice to her?
The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.
He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.
You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.
"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."
He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.
Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.
Your brows raise.
"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."
You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.
"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."
And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.
-
19 and 21 years old;
"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!" 
Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.
The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.
"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.
Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression). 
So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.
And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.
"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."
You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.
In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.
But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.
In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.
You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team. 
"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.
The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.
‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just  ready to fight.
 You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall. 
"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red. 
With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.
Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-
"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"
At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,
"Number nine! Crybaby!"
There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.
A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.
The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.
You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-
"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"
Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years. 
Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.
When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.
You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;
"Jung Wooyoung!"
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flowerandblood · 4 months
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The Prince and The Fox (7)
[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]
[ warnings: kissing, fluff, swearing ]
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[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]
WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.
I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.
Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard
This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Rammstein - Du Hast
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
From the day he called her there was a change in him that surprised her. He would come up to her at breaks of his own accord, stand and talk to her, telling her about his day, what he was reading and playing. After what he wrote to her, Alys never spoke to him again and he told her that he felt like a huge stone had fallen off his back.
They often wrote after school, complaining about homework or tests, no longer having the energy to study, tired and discouraged. They usually wrote for hours about nothing, sending each other memes or screenshots of articles they had just read, however, she enjoyed it very much and, most importantly, he enjoyed it too.
They always sat together on the bus listening alternately to his and her playlist. He let her lay her head on his shoulder, himself resting his cheek against her hair.
She knew she was in love with him, had known it for a long time, but she felt that everything was as it should be.
That they were coming closer together in slow, small steps.
He surprised her one day when they were standing at the bus stop. She already knew him enough to feel that he wanted to say something, but as usual he had trouble getting it out. He looked down at his trainers, his hands slipped into the pockets on the front of his black hoodie, his lips tightened.
After a moment, he grunted, not looking at her, she had a feeling his skin was rosier than usual, as if he was hot even though it was cool and unpleasant around them.
"I've been thinking a lot lately." He began, licking his lower lip as if he was carefully analysing the next sentence he wanted to say.
"I…em - well." He paused, as if he had lost the thought. She glanced at him with sympathy seeing how difficult this was for him.
"I figured if you wanted to, I don't know, hold my hand sometimes, or do some other dating shit, I wouldn't mind." He choked out quickly at last, embarrassed, his nostrils moving in an anxious breath, he wasn't looking at her.
She blinked, feeling herself blush, a hot sensation spread throughout her body, a pleasant tickle in her belly. She pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze, embarrassed.
Was he just telling her that he was ready to take things a step further?
That he wanted something more than friendship?
"Okay." She said softly, not knowing what else to add, as stunned by it all as he was, it seemed to her that she had never felt anything like it before in her life.
As usual they sat on the bus together, but this time she had the feeling that he had specially pressed himself tighter against her with his arm, his knee touching hers.
She was hot with emotion so she had to pull her jacket off, and as she returned to her previous position, she placed her hand gently on his.
He looked at her surprised and swallowed loudly, his cheek immediately pressed against her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder, his pleasant scent filling her lungs.
She felt him intertwine their fingers, his Adam's apple waved as he swallowed hard again, his thumb stroking her skin gently in a gesture of such immense tenderness that she felt emotional.
She didn't dare hold his hand as they walked down the shool corridor, she was afraid of malicious comments towards him from others, she knew he only dreamed of sitting in his shadow and never coming out of it.
However, he would sit next to her on the floor during breaks, listening to music with her on his headphones, he made her really like Rammstein, they often listened to her favourite song 'Du Hast'. He would sometimes send her great recordings of their concerts, which she watched with blazing eyes in bed in her bedroom.
What pleased Helaena most about their closeness was that she could spend time with both of them at the same time without fear of conflict.
They often played online games together on the PlayStation, something she hadn't done much before but had become addicted to because of them, also joining in remotely with them via her laptop when she couldn't see them.
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She wrote him back quickly without a second thought, knowing that tomorrow was Saturday and she could sit up late with them.
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She told her parents where she was going, grabbed a few things to change into thinking that if she stayed up late she would spend the night in Helaena's bed and ran across the street, knocking on their door.
She heard Vhagar's loud, excited barking and then someone's footsteps, Aemond opened it for her and invited her in.
"Hi!" She shouted loudly into the ether looking around for Helaena, she saw him give her a surprised glance, following her into the depths of their living room.
"No…we are alone. Helaena and Aegon have gone off somewhere, my parents are away until Monday." He said looking at her uncertainly, as if he felt he might have inadvertently deceived or confused her in some way.
She blinked, tightening her lips, feeling butterflies in her stomach.
They would be alone.
Like a couple.
"…if you don't want to, then..."
"− no, it's fine. What are we going to play?" She asked pulling her backpack off her back and placing it next to the couch.
They spread out comfortably on the large sofa next to each other with the pads in their hands, browsing through the various online games, unsure of what to play. They usually played as a group of three so they didn't want to continue through the levels Helaena was helping them with.
"How about this?" He asked lowly, opening a preview of a game in which the characters were warriors flying on dragons, fighting in sky battles against other players who were also online. The gameplay was for up to two players.
"Oh, yes, I've always wanted to play this!" She exclaimed excitedly, sliding slightly down in her seat, and he hummed under his breath, starting up the game, waiting for it to load.
They were able to choose their gender, outfits and equipment with great detail and also the appearance of their dragon, so it took them the first hour.
"A bow? Don't you prefer a crossbow?" He asked with some kind of disappointment looking at her choice.
"I want a bow." She burbled undaunted, moving on to her heroine's hair colour and what kind of hairstyle she wanted.
They decided they'd start with training to learn how to control their big sky beasts at all, and it turned out not to be easy to pilot them so that they flew where they wanted, didn't hit each other, and at the same time shoot at their opponent.
"Shit. This is a game for kids aged 12 and up. It shouldn't be that fucking hard." He muttered, clicking the buttons of his pad loudly, as soon as he shot his dragon flew off a bit to the side and the arrow didn't reach his opponent. She sighed loudly at his words.
"We are poor players. I don't know if there is any point in humiliating ourselves by fighting experienced twelve-year-olds who will destroy us after a few seconds." She said amused to watch them both get tired, she heard him chuckle lowly and felt her cheeks blush.
"Yeah. We can check out the exploring cities mode. There are whole maps here. Then the gameplay is about flying to specific points and completing missions." He murmured, quickly clicking something on his pad, switching them from training mode to travel mode.
"Oh, great! I love it!" She said happily, pleased with how nice and detailed the graphics were, their dragons flying side by side and circling over a large, golden city reminiscent of some medieval kingdom.
They played like this for a while, commenting only briefly on what they were doing and the dialogue between the other characters, occasionally getting into fights with someone, but without the control of the dragons it was much easier and they both got caught up in the story. She was surprised and blinked when she suddenly saw him press pause.
She glanced at him questioningly, thinking he had to go to the bathroom or wanted to get himself something to drink, but he just looked at her and slid a little lower on the couch so that their faces were at a similar height.
She could feel the heat in her lower abdomen and her heart beating fast, she felt her cheeks burning, she couldn't hold back a slight embarrassed smile. He hummed under his breath, the corner of his mouth curving upwards involuntarily.
"Wanna kiss?" He asked, and she felt a wave of heat surge through her body, she clenched her thighs together, feeling a pleasant pulsing and tickling between them, she felt like her lungs were filled to the brim.
She nodded her head.
He smiled and reached his hand up to her cheek, his warm, soft, wet lips clinging to hers in a sticky, loud, tender kiss. He pulled away from her for a moment to look at her, and then they embraced and kissed again and again, her hand slipping into his hair, soft and smelling pleasantly of masculine shower gel, she thought with her heart beating hard that he had taken a bath before she came.
She heard him murmur as she felt him reciprocate his kisses, once in a while sucking his lower lip between hers, his hand tightened on the nape of her neck and hugged her tighter, their warm bodies touching.
His hands roamed her cheeks, her hair, her neck and her back and although she felt desire in that touch, it didn't make her uncomfortable, it wasn't intrusive.
She didn't want him to stop.
She felt something begin to happen to her as they both began to breathe loudly, their kisses faster, deeper, more intimate, more greedy, accompanied by the embarrassingly loud sound of their saliva, their fingers pressed painfully tight on their bodies.
"− so pretty −" He breathed out into her mouth and she trembled all over hearing it, feeling as if a pleasant wave of heat had passed through her body, the inside of her core between her thighs pulsed hard, for some reason she felt that she was terribly wet.
"− mhm −" She mumbled only, deepening the kiss thinking only of making sure he didn't stop, that she wanted this, that she wanted him.
That she wanted him to touch her.
He paused for a moment, panting loudly, his nose pressed against her cheek as he felt her take the arm he was embracing her with in her hand and slide it lower, grabbing his wrist.
"− did I do something wrong? −" He whispered in a trembling voice and drew in the air loudly, surprised when she took his hand in hers and gently placed it on her breast covered only by the material of her Tshirt.
"− fuck −" He muttered in shock, involuntarily his fingers tightened tentatively on her soft flesh, she could feel his accelerated breath on her face, that he was looking at what he was doing, where his hand was. "− so soft −"
She felt his words between her thighs, sighing quietly, unable to believe how pleasant it was, how warm and large his hand felt, his touch gentle, full of curiosity, respect and uncertainty.
He kissed her again, still keeping his hand on her breast, kneading it gently, sighing in delight as she struggled to catch her breath, moaning quietly when she felt the tip of his tongue gently brush her upper lip.
"− fuck − mmm −" He hummed quietly, thrusting greedily into her lips, panting loudly along with her, her hand pressed his fingers firmly against her breast forcing him to squeeze her harder and he groaned low right down her throat, her free hand roaming through his hair, his tongue invading deep inside her mouth.
They pulled away from each other, terrified and moved back quickly hearing the sound of a lock being turned and someone's laughter, Aegon talking loudly on the phone.
"She pisses me off, she's always jealous, I don't even get a moment's peace. No, I'm not going back there, I'm already home. Hi little nerds!" He threw them a greeting as he ran up the stairs to the first floor in a few sure strides, and after a moment she heard the sound of his room door closing.
They both swallowed loudly, trying to calm their breathing. She pressed her lips together not believing what had happened, afraid to look at him, not knowing what she should do now. She felt a terrible tension and a throbbing that she didn't know much of what to do about, and she was ashamed to ask him about it, so she just grunted quietly, looking down at her hands.
"Em….so. Shall we keep playing?" He asked in a low, slightly hoarse voice, and she nodded quickly.
They played for a few more hours without saying much, but they sat closer together, their thighs and shoulders touching, she could feel his body with her every move.
Neither of them pulled away, quite the contrary, sometimes when she was waiting for him to move she would lay her head on his shoulder, as she often did on the bus, watching him play and hearing him swallow loudly each time, trying to concentrate on what he was doing.
At some point she felt herself start to fall asleep, it was late but she didn't want to go home. It felt silly to be left without Helaena for the night though and she was afraid that Aegon would tease both him and her later.
That's why she simply laid back in with her face pressed into his neck inhaling his pleasant scent and allowed herself to close her eyes, just for a moment.
"− hey − Foxy − are you asleep? −" She heard him whisper, his warm hand gently stroking her thigh.
"− mmm −" She murmured softly, embracing his arm with her hands, cuddling into him like he was a teddy bear, he was pleasantly warm and smelled of himself, just the way she liked it, it felt good and comfortable. She felt him kiss her cheek a few times.
"Sleep. I'll cover you with a blanket later." He whispered, launching some other game on the pad, apparently a single-player one.
She felt him take his arm from her grasp only to embrace her and hug her close, and she snuggled eagerly into his chest, laying herself comfortably, his cheek resting against the top of her head, all she could hear was the quiet clicking of his pad and the sounds of the game which he had turned down so that she could sleep in peace.
After a while she fell into a deep sleep, squirming in his embrace. Then she felt a sudden emptiness and muttered under her breath discontentedly, searching for him with her hand in the darkness.
She felt someone's lips kissed her hair and stroked her cheek, she smelled his scent, his warm body laid behind her back and embraced her, covering them thoroughly with a warm blanket.
She placed her hands on his intertwining their fingers, his face snuggled into the hollow of her neck, she heard him sigh quietly as if relieved.
She fell asleep.
____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes
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holdmytesseract · 26 days
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moodboard by @chennqingg <3
Ice Flower Poll time! ❄️
Well... I've been thinking about this AU lately a lil' bit; figuring out how I can shape this Loki further. He's clearly different than BabyFever!Loki, but I want to make it... more distinct. So, I thought about bringing in more the primal anfd 'animalistic' side of his very well-marked Jotun genes. 🤔
Such things like...
• His urge to constantly protect Y/N - his mate, wife and mother of his children, and later on his offspring, of course. Sure, it depends on the 'stage of life' they are in. I think when Y/N's hurt or sick or pregnant, his protective instincts are heightened.
• Possessiveness. Like, I can imagine that he hates it when another male dares to lay his eyes upon Reader. After all, he claimed her as his...
• Perhaps some 'hunting instincts'; similar in the 'Catch Me If You Can' story I wrote.
• Mating seasons/ruts. No, no, I don't mean that in an entirely smutty way. We all know that I won't ever actually write that. Sure, I'll probably write some suggestive stuff and light smut, but that was it. I just feel like it's a part of his genes? Perhaps not fully marked, but definitely there, and worth to mention it here and there.
You are also more than welcome to let me know in the comments what you think - or if you have further ideas! Don't be shy to hit me up! ❄️
Ice Flower tags: @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @icytrickster17 @chennqingg @glitchquake @princess-ofthe-pages @crimson25 @elegantcheesecakecrown @buttercupcookies-blog @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @herdetectivetheorist @loz-3 @simping-for-marvel @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @lovingchoices14 @salvinaa @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @xxannyxx @kimanne723 @mandywholock1980
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laurfilijames · 2 months
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All week I told myself that on Sunday, I was going to write all day.
I opened my laptop up for the first time in two weeks. I haven't written a word since I finished editing Expensive and tried for over an hour to work on my series Like My Dreams.
I thought about it all week and have been so eager to continue it, only the words won't come.
I know it's not for lack of passion or wanting to; I think about this story (and all the other ones) constantly.
I've been trying to deny some feelings for a while, or chalk it up to getting too much in my own head, but today it's come down heavier than ever and what is ultimately responsible for blocking my creativity and turning my love for my stories from thoughts into actual sentences.
I'm lonely.
I've never felt so alone.
The Charlie fandom seems to be relatively non existent, or just extremely quiet.
I have no space. No where I fit in.
I'm on the outskirts, trying to find a spot, constantly seeing if there is a way I can have a place for my ideas, stories, and even friendship, and have it hold some value to the others I'm around.
The more I post on here, the less I feel seen.
Engagement on this platform has reduced drastically across the board, and it's effecting so many artists.
It's not about numbers. I'm sure some of you are probably thinking "your last fic has over 100 notes". Yeah. It does. Almost all of those notes are likes, and more than half the reblogs are my own.
What I'm seeking is engagement. Conversation. A likeness and kinship started by a common interest that blooms into simple conversations and thoughts shared.
Comparison is a bitch. I see so many people living the Tumblr life I wish to have. Asks, comments, reblogs of teasers and moodboards for upcoming fics screaming of excitement and praise and how eager they are to read it. People dropping everything they're doing to read the latest chapter of their friend's new fic.
I realize the many reasons why I'm in a different position than they are, but lately it's been screaming at me louder than ever that I'm lacking something meaningful or whatever I'm doing on here isn't enough.
I've tried creating a buzz around my stories. I am aware that most of the time I write for unpopular characters with a smaller fan base, so I set the bar lower but am still left feeling inadequate even when I write for the popular ones. Whenever I've shared snippets of WIPs in hopes to gain some excitement from my readers, it falls short. Usually it'll inspire me to keep going, to write better than ever and make this next fic The Best One that makes me so happy and excited to get out. (For Charlie, I'll say, and write something I'm so unbelievably proud of) and then sometimes it makes me wonder if I should bother continuing at all.
I know I am not owed anything by anyone and no one is obligated to read or comment or anything of the sort, and I am beyond grateful for the comments and support I do receive, and the friendships I've made, old and new.
I'm not exactly sure what I'm getting at here, I just needed to write it down and "talk" it out.
I've been battling the decision to continue writing but not share it. I don't want that to happen, because as much as I write these stories for myself, a lot of the fun of it comes from being able to share it with all of you.
Nothing dramatic is happening. I'm not leaving, and I will be writing again because I'm not at all done with what I have to say about these characters, I just felt this needed to be said and already feel a little lighter by sharing it.
Write your stories, comment on your favourite fics, scream with your mutuals about a photo or gif that inspired something in you, tell your writer friends and writers you've never spoken to but love their stories just how much you do... I promise it makes more of an impact than you know. 💗
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uhardite · 4 months
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୨୧ join my 70 day glowup challenge ୨୧
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lately, i've been feeling super unmotivated to continue with my self-improvement journey, and i realised that many people probably struggle with the same, thus introducing - a glowup challenge! (if no one joins i'll delete this post lol)
i have been on tumblr for a short time, but i already love this community and consider it to be my safe space, so this will be a journey all of us take together to achieve our goals and get closer to becoming our best selves ♡
!! reminder !! - be kind to yourself, cheer others on, and most importantly, have fun <33
જ⁀➴ rules
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how to participate: like and reblog this post by 19 November (9pm IST), mention the areas you will be working on (for ex: fitness, beauty, academics, self-confidence, faith, journaling, etc)
challenge ends on: 24th January, 2024
what to do: the areas you chose to work on will be your "banks", and you will post daily check-ins on how much you have deposited in your banks, i.e. things you do throughout the day that positively impact your chosen areas
what is NOT the basis for evaluation: missed days, breaks you may have taken to look after yourself or for personal reasons
feel free to dm me in case i missed your reblog / you have any queries / just want someone to talk to
જ⁀➴ prizes
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1st prize: follow back if i haven't already, personalized name moodboard, spotify playlist, like + reblog every post for 24h
2nd prize: follow back if i haven't already, spotify playlist, like + reblog 3 recent posts
3rd prize: follow back if i havent already, spotify playlist, like + reblog 2 recent posts
and that's it! i look forward to everyone's posts, i'm already proud of you for being on this journey, you're doing amazing and i love you xx
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johnica-weeks · 4 months
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Johnica Week 2024
When is the event? 📆
This year's Johnica Week will start on Thursday 18th January and end on Sunday 21st January! For the first time the event will START on their wedding anniversary and continue throughout the weekend 🥰 But as always, don't worry if you're late! You can keep sending your contributions after the last day, these are simply indicative days to gather all together 💕
Where? 🔎
Here on Tumblr, on AO3 and also on Instagram for visual artists!
💚 Use the tag #JohnicaWeek2024 in your entries here and on Instagram!
📚 > Here is the AO3 COLLECTION where to post your fics! <
💚 Tag @eileen-crys and/or @johnica-weeks in your works so I can read, see and share them!
📚 At the end of the event I’ll make a Tumblr masterlist with all the works!
2020 Masterlist | 2021 Masterlist | 2022 Masterlist | 2023 Masterlist
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The Theme 🎁
The 49th Wedding Anniversary comes soon before the huge milestone of the 50 years together, and it's usually represented by various symbols that I added to the prompts: Zircon, Orchids, the color Purple, and luxurious gifts. The main theme of this year's event is GIFTS, the act of giving the partner something material or abstract as an act of selflessness, that can have various meanings and various reactions.
Like all the prompts, it’s up to you to follow the theme or not, consider it just as a general theme that you could build your entries around. I chose some prompts that might fit this theme, that are about gifts as physical objects or as ideas for situations or alternative worldbuildings.
How? 🖼
You're encouraged to join with your preferred creative media or challenge yourself with something new! Fanfictions, drawings, comics, poetry, collages and photo edits, moodboards, anything you like! More in the RULES below.
Like all Ship Weeks, this is a fandom event to share love and creativity related to a particular couple, so be sure to engage with the entries and support all the artists and writers that chose to join! Reblog, leave likes/kudos and comment on the artworks to keep the fandom alive! 💜💖💕💜💖💕
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Day 1 • 18 January (Anniversary!)
Flowers: Orchids are symbols of love, beauty, refinement, fertility, strength and resilience, and mature charm.
Surprise gift!
Handmade by the other
Young, poor and happy together
"I've got a loving wife and a couple of kids at home, that'll do me!"
Day 2 • 19 January
The color: Purple can evoke spirituality, mystery, royalty, imagination, compassion, fantasy, wisdom, creativity and sensitivity.
A kinky gift 😏
Concert tickets
Radio interview
“When you love something, you protect it with your entire life. Right now, my guts tell me to do the same.”
Day 3 • 20 January
Gemstone: Zircon zircon is a talisman of travelers. They count on it to lead to a shelter and show the right way. Plus, it is able to protect from injuries. Women used the gem to ease childbirth, drive away evil spirits, enhance health, get wisdom, and attract good luck.
Rejecting a gift
Torn between options
Dreaming and daydreaming
"You remembered something I’d mentioned a million years ago!"
Day 4 • 21 January
Celebration: Luxury the 49th wedding anniversary is the step right before the big 50, also known as the Golden wedding. All the symbols represent the wealth of experience a couple has after being married for nearly five decades. Two people who are willing to work together and compromise and do all the things that make a marriage successful deserve to celebrate with a bit of Luxury.
Matching pyjamas
Spa experience / Pampering one another
Knowing each other like an open book
"Oh my, this must have been expensive!" "Nothing is expensive enough for you, my love."
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What can you do? ✒
You can join with fanfics, edits and moodboards, drawings of all kinds and if you want to sing or play an instrument please feel free to!
The requirements are:
John and Veronica Deacon as the main pairing;
Your love and creativity! 🥰
You can write/draw:
Fics with and without accurate settings and timelines;
Alternative Universes (AU) of any kind and genre, mixed or not with the prompts (ex. Fem!John AU + coffee shop, A/B/O AU + Superpowers);
“What if"s;
Genderswap/genderbending of any kind;
Other Queen members, friends, pairings, family, poly ships (that have to involve both John and Veronica!), OCs, etc…
Fluff, angst, crack, hurt/comfort, action, mystery, sexy times… anything you fancy!
🔥 NSFW is allowed with PROPER TAGS! IMPORTANT note: please interact with NSFW only if you’re +18! 🔞
… and more! If you’re unsure feel free to ask!
We’re here to celebrate John and Veronica Deacon, not to create drama or fights nor to disrespect their privacy. So please be considered about your entries and comments and always try to be respectful to John, to Veronica, to their family and friends, to the people who ship them or ship other couples and to your audience.
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HOW to post? 🤔
You can post your entries here on Tumblr, on AO3 and on Instagram, using the hashtag #JohnicaWeek2024 and tagging me.
If you prefer, you can post anonymously on AO3, HERE is an easy guide on how to do it!
If you’re on Tumblr and want to post a fic anonymously please send me a DM and I’ll post it on @johnica-weeks on your behalf, crediting it as Anonymous author! I will also post fics from Anon authors posted on AO3 here on tumblr on Anon's behalf.
🔥 TAG your work APPROPRIATELY! This includes all potential triggers and smut. On Tumblr you can include the appropriate warnings at the top of the fic followed by a "keep reading” cut (you can add it in desktop version AND on mobile by writing :readmore: in a new line!) Also be sure to tag the rating of your fic, the genre and the themes of your story, enough to help the readers!
✨ If you’re still unsure, HERE’s a useful guide on how to tag your works!
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As a reader... 📖
If you’re a fan of John, of Johnica or simply like to read fanfictions, positive interactions are always much welcomed! Support the authors by leaving likes, a comment (even a little one!) and sharing their work. On AO3 you don’t need an account to leave Kudos and Comments! (Unless the author has willingly prevented guests to comment). To leave a comment on AO3 you simply have to choose a temporary mail and set your email to get a notification for an eventual reply.
If a work is not tagged appropriately, you can reach out to me via DM and I’ll warn the author. If anything makes you uncomfortable, simply close the work! Do not engage by leaving nasty comments or messaging the author!
🔥 IMPORTANT!!! 🔥
During the event, if any of you/your entries gets hateful comments or messages towards you, your entries, the Johnica ship, the event or other creators, please DELETE the hateful comment/message right away with no interactions and let me know! This is no place for haters, just for creativity and love. If you see a hateful comment on other works do not engage, instead leave a positive comment to the same work and support the author! 💜
Realistic or not, remember that fanfictions are, by definition, FICTIONAL and not meant to be a documentary! There are lots of things we don’t know about John and Veronica’s private lives and don’t want to go in too deeply, gossip or speculate about them, so feel free to fly with your fantasy and let your creativity flow! 😊💖 Most of all… have fun, respect each other and support each other’s works!
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Dividers and graphics by @firefly-graphics and @johnica-weeks. As always for any info and question feel free to send an ask or a DM!
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rhoorl · 4 months
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Week in Review | Dec. 10
Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!
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Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:
Fics I read this week:
Frankie Morales
I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕
While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree
Joel Miller
Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!
Mr. Ben
SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable. 
Din Djarin
Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕
A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).
Other Characters
Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira -  This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*
Current Compulsory Series:
These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.
Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛
Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!
Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕
Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.
Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.
It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!
Posts from the week:
The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon 
@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.
If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered
We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak. 
In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….
Feral corner:
There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.
This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?
@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…
This scene from TLOU forever changed me. 
Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.
Things I watched:
I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.
Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.
Personal Stuff
Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy
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Fic updates:
I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆
I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣
This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!
Masterlist
Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 
Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3
Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? Part Two
Are You Alone 
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moonbcrry · 7 months
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yes, you've read it right. the bitch is back. she rose from her grave and ready to whisk the dust on her gown. would you guys care to give a hand to the little lady?
<event is closed!! ty everyone who sent requests ill be posting them asap!>
to celebrate the arrival of autumn, and the revival of my desire to write, i decided to make a little event with you guys. where you'll help me write with your fun ideas, give me tropes and such so i can make playlists of them (my newest obsession), and of course, i dearly missed talking to you guys.
>>> i am planning to continue the event through the september but i may close it earlier, depends on the requests and my mood.
>>> are you new here? get to know me !
>>> check out who i write for before requesting
🕷⛧ there will be rain lately i am feeling very much angst, so why not send me your character of choice and the scenario you want or pick a prompt from the following lists (please send the full prompt with in your request) &. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. , &. 𝐡𝐢𝐭 ‘𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. , &. 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
✟🖤from my rotting body (+18 ONLY) i am back hornier than ever! send in your filthiest thoughts and i shall make them come alive! or pick a prompt from the following lists (please send the full prompt with in your request)   𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻 𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 , consent is sexy ! , 𝑩𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. 
♡⛓ dream sweet in sea a good old fluff won't hurt anyone! warm me up with your smushiest, fluffiest ideas or you can pick a prompt from the following lists ( please send the full prompt with in your request) “say you won’t let go” , kiss me with your eyes closed , Saying "I love you" without saying "I love you"
♥⸸ melting waltz give me a highly specific trope and a character to make a playlist for!! you might also check out my spotify account for inspo.
⚰.ೃ only lovers left alive i know how much you guys enjoyed my moodboards, so send any moodboard idea you'd like, i'll do my best!
✮𖤍 old letter lets chat!! ask me questions, ask for advice, give me advice, fun facts etc.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──
and tagging some of my mutuals to reunite with them because i've been a bad friend and neglected them 😔 i don't even know if you guys are still active, i just hope you are!
@leydileyla , @1985houndsoflove , @velvetcloxds , @psychedelic-ink , @luveline , @ddejavvu , @catholicdaredevil , @siriusblackloml , @inklore , @murdocksluvrr , @sereinegemini , @saintmurd0ck , @vestrangel , @thrashc4n , @thousanddreams , @shysneeze
i'm not even sure about if i should tag you guys or not i hope you won't mind! :/
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Merry Christmas HBO War Friends!!
Especially @footprintsinthesxnd , who was my Secret Santa person this year!! For you, here is a love letter from your favorite Cajun, along with a moodboard inspired by the letter 🥰 hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas!! ❤️🎄
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7 May, 1945
My darling,
We just got to Austria today. I wish you could see how gorgeous it is - the mountains would be absolutely perfect for one of our weekend hikes! I've been thinking about those a lot lately. I miss having adventures with you before I left. I'd give just about anything to have another picnic by the lake with you. Those are my favorite moments to think about - just you and me, relaxing in the sun, talking about anything and everything. I'll never forget the day we had the whole picnic set up, you were in a beautiful blue dress, and out of nowhere the heavens opened up! The rain poured, but all we did was laugh and run underneath a nearby tree. That kiss we shared in the rain that day was one of the happiest moments of my life.
I saw something else that reminded me of you yesterday. Talbert’s dog Trigger got a cut on his foot, so Tab was patching it up. All I could think of was you and how gentle you are with the animals you care for. I will always be in awe of how good you are with animals and how you're able to keep them calm while caring for them.
I swear thinking about you is the only thing getting me through this war. Whenever I feel alone, I just remember how it feels to be in your arms at the end of the day, you make all the stress and pain melt away. You are my safe space, you are my home. I can't wait to be home with you. I can't wait to dance to the radio with you while we make dinner. I can't wait to drink our coffee together on quiet mornings. I am going to come home to you as soon as I can, darling. I promise.
I love you more than yesterday, and less than tomorrow,
Your Gene
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koithelittle · 5 months
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cg!mulder moodboard + headcanons!!
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note; can you tell I love bunnies?? anyways- I made this absolutely agessss ago, started the headcanons after I made the moodboard but I've been in and out of the mindset to write/write agere stuff since I've been struggling with my regression lately but!! I'm here and I have plans to write more and I've got ideas. my inbox and requests are open!!
paci credits; littlemothshop on ig
navigation
other moodboards
(headcanons below the cut !!)
• the sweetest when he finds out about your regression, he's patient with you, kind and considerate. he'll sit there and listen to every word as you explain it, and he's especially patient and soft if he finds out because you impurely regressed. perhaps a meltdown after a really bad case, something that triggered you and caused you to break after a build up of stress.
• he'll rest his hands on the sides of your upper arms and just smile and hum and nod as you talk.
• he loves resting his fingers and hands on your face. during cuddles he'll rub your cheeks or forehead with his thumb, and he loves playing with your hair.
• if you have hair long enough for it, he'll put little braids and styles of the like in it for you, sitting you between his legs and just styling it!!
• little forehead kisses as reassurance
• records your favorite episodes of your TV shows on VHS so he can watch it with you or have it on for you (his personal favorite of your favorites is beakmans world, obvs)
• he loves getting to wrap you up in blankets and just hold you
• he's a smidge bit overprotective, when you're little he tends to keep you away from anything that could possibly danger you and helps you with any task that you could get hurt with
• so, crafts? safety scissors only. and he has to watch you. cooking? nope, only with close supervision. you can get ingredients, though no cutting or stirring over the stove. that's *his* job.
• he doesn't really mind any sort of nickname you give him but he always favors foxy or baba. daddy is okay too, but he likes the other two the most.
• has little sensory bins for you both to play in (he's a child at heart, also- autism)
• there's a rice box, sand box and a moon dough box. he has them all set up as little sort of dioramas. little toys stuck in them, some play shovels or anything that you can play in it with.
• he's a sucker for your pouts. one simple whine and a poke out of your lip and he is *melted*
• he has a hard time putting his foot down on rules he may have (maimly bedtimes and candy since those are the ones you fight the most)
• he just loves seeing you happy and giggly
• stims when you stims, and dances around with you in whatever room you're in
• at work, if you start to feel smaller, he tends to notice quickly and always makes note to keep a closer eye on you. and if you're in reach, he'll pull you in to lean against him or pull you into a hug
• when you dress up in his clothes for fun (usually his suit) he adores it. just awes at you and coos at you and tells you how adorable and sweet of a baby you are!
• loves cooking for you. he's not horrible at it, but he learned how to make/prep all of your safe foods so he has those recipes in hand all the time!
• he has a whole box of pacis/teethers/treats/toys/etc just for when you're little, calls it your baby-box
• loves having you in his lap while he works at the dining table. he'll have his work in front of him and just be rubbing your back with his hand as you cuddle up to him and babble and coo.
taglist; (lmk if you want to be added!)
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MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: March PT. 2
Welcome to part 2 of March’s recommendation list. Down below, you can find the link to take you back to part 1 featuring Peaky Blinders, Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, Frank Castle, and the works that I posted. I still have some specialists that I’m traveling to go see, so there might not be 32 links this time around, but we’ll have to wait and see. The goal for March is to write another chapter In This Heart and rewrite The Spark. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, or your stories, or even just your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you are having an amazing March and you didn’t have such a hard time springing ahead. 
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☘️ March '23 Pt. 1
April '23 Pt. 1 🌸
Masterlist
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37 of 44 Years (Moodboard) ... Dedication to my parents.
All For You My Daisy (Moodboard) >> Garret Hedlund, Pedro Pascal, and Tommy Shelby
Begin Again (Moodboard) >> Ted Lasso x OFC!Penny Fletcher | Moodboard made for @teds-mustache-wrangler story Begin Again.
Innocence and Sadness (Moodboard) >> Arthur Shelby ... dedicated to @cillmequick
Peaky x Lana Challenge (Moodboard) >> Alfie Solomons x Reader x Tommy Shelby | “I’ve got a black limousine and two gentlemen who escort me through these halls.” 
Two Broken Souls (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | “Come, Josephine in my flying machine. Going up, she goes, up she goes.”
Update//Calm Down by All Time Low (Moodboard) >> Garrett Hedlund, Luke Grimes, and Pedro Pascal
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ONE-SHOTS:
As His Daughter by @sneakyblinders >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader ft. Daughter!Kate Shelby - Summery: As Kate Shelby becomes an older sister yet again, she realizes she doesn't really know her father. Her mother is on a mission to change that. | You'll go through the emotions with this one, I promise. For those who need the warning, there are mentions of childbirth!
Loving Girl by @valentine-in-my-quinjet >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy. After Grace died, you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before. | You will need a tissue with this one. TW: Suicide Mentioned
Make Your Heart My Home by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summery: Y/N hasn't had the best life. In fact, she's physically running from it into the physical arms of one Tommy Shelby, who saves her. | Read this, get a little emotional, but fall in love with its ending.
Mr. Girraffe by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Florence's giraffe gets lost in Johnny Dogs camp. | The family dynamic in this is quite adorable, and I love how sweet Tommy is as well.
The Perfect Team by @runnning-outof-time >> Arthur Shelby x Reader - Summary: Arthur's ability to reason with (Y/N)'s child has them realizing that they work rather well together. | This is absolutely adorable and light-hearted, definitely recommend reading it.
'Teach You a Lesson by @celticmelody >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: you’re soon to marry Thomas Shelby, the infamous horseman amongst the gangsters in Birmingham. however, when he finds out you’ve never ridden before, he makes it a task to teach you… amongst other lessons that unravel afterwards. | If all riding lessons with Tommy were to end this way, I would take them every day as well. 🥵
When One Heart Breaks The Other, Follows by @little-diable >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Summary: Tommy has been at war for months, and the only thing the reader can cling to is the letters he kept writing. Until the day when he no longer writes to her, when she no longer knows if he's alive or not. All until one last letter finds its way to her. | I've been emotional lately, okay? So did I need tissues when I read this? Yes! But was I smiling by the end? YES!
SERIES:
*A Different Sort of Man Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 by @evita-shelby >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Eva, Canon!Tommy x Grace Burgess - Summary: Or where Eva plays around with magic, and Tommy wakes up in a universe where Grace is his wife. While in that universe, Tommy discovers just how different his life would have been if he had pursued the pretty witch in 71 Watery Lane. | My mother always warned me growing up to never fiddle with magic, but this just makes me want to... Only two chapters in, and it's so good. The switching of points of view is everything I could have asked for.
The Photographer // Part 13 by @midnightmagpiemama >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Photographer!Reader - Summary: Hired to take pictures of your boyfriend's cousin's wedding, you are excited to spend the night in the presence of your boyfriend doing what you love. The night, however, doesn't go as according to plans. Or, the one where Gina and Micheal get married, Gina sits Lizzy at Tommy's table. And people have opinions on your relationship with Tommy. | Erin is such a fantastic writer, and I truly love this series. In this chapter, she just captures Tommy and Polly so beautifully.
A Royal Wedding of Small Heath Part 1 // Part 2 by @sneakyblinders >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy is getting married in what the newspaper is calling The Royal Wedding of Small Heath with the announcement of their engagement. It's fitting, as his wife is his Queen. | If I had to picture my wedding to Tommy, this is exactly how I would want it to go. I love how some parts came straight from the TV show. It was just perfect.
Welcome to Downtown, Mr. Shelby by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC - Summary: He was born on a boat, with neither of his parents sure of the date after the fact, unregistered and unlisted until he went to fight for his country. Her birth had been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, champagne toasts, and announcements in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. Their worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity. | Enjoyed reading this and emerging myself into this little world, and look forward to what is to come for Charlotte and Tommy.
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SERIES:
*Push & Pull // Chapter 4: Coming Of Age by @milkymoon2483 >> Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OC Hannah Friedman - Summary: You’re going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama, but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM, your dad’s long-time friend and probably the most attractive man you have ever met.  When Frank finally sees you and realizes that you're all grown up, he struggles with accepting his budding feelings for you. | This chapter had me feeling so many emotions. You start with a stomach drop, then you feel so sad, and then you end it on a great high, needing a tall glass of water to cool down. Anna knows how to make you feel every emotion that the main character is going through at every moment of the chapter. That is a true talent.
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Triple Frontier:
🍑 Appeteaser Benny Miller + Shower Sex by @dameronscopilo >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: Benny comes home after a long day and enjoys some time with his girl. | Let me just say this is really hot, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Here With Me by @pasukiyo >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: When your husband promises it will only be one week, your gut tells you it won't, you beg him to stay if not just for you, but for your family. (Horrible summary by me) | This starts off so sad and emotional, and it ends on a spicy note. It's perfect.
A Proposition by @dameronscopilot >> Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader x Benjamin "Benny" Miller - Summary: Benny returns to Florida after six months of backpacking his way across Australia, and the surf and sun have treated him well. Very well. You can't help but notice. ...Santiago thinks that maybe it's time for the two of you to change things up in the bedroom. Because if he's going to share you with anyone, it's most certainly going to be Benjamin Miller | Is it just me, or is it really HOT in here right now? 🥵 I think I better go open the window after reading this one.
Untitled Sick!fic with Benny by @dameronscopilot >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: benny knows exactly what you need when you're sick—in more ways than one. | If Benny ever wants to come to take care of me like this when I'm sick, or now even, he's more than welcome.
"Wear whatever you want, I can fight." by @plaguedoctorsmistress >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: When your boyfriend can’t seem to do anything but whine about your outfit, Benny’s jealousy finally gets the best of him, and he takes matters into his own hand. | Benny can defend my honor any day and call me princess all he wants.
*The Wedding Party by @goodwithcheese >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: Series Summary: A combined bachelorette/bachelor party introduces you to a brown-eyed pilot. | I loved this series so much that I read it in one night on AO3 when I came across it. I'm so glad it came up on my dashboard so I could share it with you guys here. It's both fluffy and sexy!
You Again?! by @theunbearableweightofpedropascal >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: You keep running into the guy you had sex with in an airport bathroom. | If you looking for some good spiciness and a mixture of giggles, this one is for you.
CILLIAN MURPHY:
Chances Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4 by @creativepawsworld >> Cillian Murphy x OFC!Paige - Summary: A single mother meets an unlikely lover after a concert. Putting herself out of her comfort zone. Can she find herself a mate for life? | The story has everything in it, fluff, a little bit of angst, and some spiciness.
Quicky by @peakyscillian >> Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader - Summary: Cillian just can't wait. | If you are looking for something romantic, hot, and with a dash of laughter, this is it.
GERALT OF RIVIA:
Late Bloomer by @cherienymphe >> Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Reader - Summary: Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. | Sometimes, a one-shot is so good you share it twice with your followers. I'm pretty sure I shared it when I first started doing recommendations, and I'm sharing it again.
PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:
Chokehold by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader x Ezra - Summary: Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him, you were a twisted source of purity; touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra. With him, he could do anything. A scary yet also exhilarating feeling. Or alternatively: You wake up to Joel and Ezra having sex. | The emotions you feel while reading this are just too good for me not to share.
I Forgot About Time and Space by @psychedelic-ink >> Ezra x Fem!Reader - Summary: You cook for Ezra's guests, and seeing the sight of you being so domestic awakens something in him. | The smut in this *chef's kiss* and the plot in general. Please read this when you are alone. You'll thank me later.
*The Infinity Cube by @littlemisspascal >> Marcus Pike x Reader ft. Various Pedro Characters - Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe? | Such a good use of the Multiverse and it introduced me to characters that Pedro played that I haven't yet watched. Rae does an amazing job keeping you at the edge of your seat and passing off such deep emotions. It's a must read for Pedro Pascal fans.
*Meet The Millers by @musings-of-a-rose >> Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader - Summary: Moving into the Boston Quarantine Zone after nearly 20 years on the outside takes some adjusting. A misdirection one night guides you to the 3 men who will change the course of your life. | This series has a little bit of everything from drama to love and spiciness. There isn't much more you could ask for out of this series other than wishing for more.
When You're Reading Me by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps would not be a part of it. | *Internally screams* This was really hot, and I think I'll go grab a cold shower now.  
STRANGER THINGS:
The Grief of Losing Eddie Munson by @eufezco >> Steve Harrington x Reader - Summary: Best friends with Eddie Munson, the reader goes through the stages of grief of losing her best friend with her family at her side. | Someone pass me the box of tissues. This was so good. I cried through almost the whole thing.
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MOODBOARDS:
My Luck by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader
My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Aurora Sabini | Lee puts together a breathtakingly beautiful moodboard for a what-if scenario in the Peaky Blinders universe. It leaves you wanting to read more and more for the couple.
Your Bread by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Alfie Solomons x Reader
Your Eyes by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader
You Like That by @dearshelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Tall glass of cold water to cool down, please!
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@psychedelic-ink - SIL, is such an amazing writer, writing most recently for Pedro Pascal's characters and sharing her amazing works with us here. Her masterlist includes more than just Pedro's characters, having written for the MCU and Oscar Isaac, to name a couple. I love the emotions you feel through every piece of writing she puts out, and I have yet to find a piece I don't like. I think you'll find you like or perhaps love her writing just as much as I do.
@shelbydelrey - Isa is a Peaky Blinder writer whose work I enjoy reading and love seeing the moodboards she puts out as well. I would definitely give Isa a follow because she brings positivity to your dashboard with her reviews and welcoming spirit.
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|| It Ain't No ||
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Matt Murdock x Frank Castle
Tags/warnings: mild violence, fluff, allusions to smut. ☺️
A/n: this was inspired by a lovely prompt from @munsonownsmyass for a proposal and I've used it for the TFC April songfic challenge!
My song is Option by Crosses 💍🖤
And thank you so much to @realfernmayo for making the moodboard! 💗 If you enjoyed please reblog so that others can read, thank you!
.
.
It was a slow thing, something that started growing a while after he had sniped off ninjas to help Red. It was the least he could do, leave him free to take down the motherfucker that had killed a loved one. That was something they now had in common at least, however tragic it was.
Either way over time they'd usually end up running into each other on odd nights, a couple of ass-kicking vigilante moths to a burning pyre of bad guys. It was almost inevitable in a way.
There were off the cuff team ups in alleyways. Meetings outside dark, dodgy warehouses with an unspoken plan. The occasional rooftop rendezvous to get the jump on an arms dealer. And after a while they were talking through gang takedowns in Red's loft over a few beers.
He wouldn't have called them dates, but Frank hadn't gone on a date in years and well, they were the closest thing.
For the most part as they worked together well to keep Hell's Kitchen safe, at least once Frank had conceded to Red's no killing rule. And then after he had taken a bullet for Red, and Red had taken a knife in the gut for him, he realised there was now something more between them.
Trust.
It had snuck up behind them both, binding them closer.
Either way Frank found himself here, his gaze soft as he sat watching the way the blues and purples of the neon billboard outside washed across Matt's skin. They were like ephemeral bruises, a reminder of the pain they'd endured but not only that. Once the fighting was over and the wounds were stitched, after a time those punches were soothed with tender touches. And then one day, a crashing kiss and a quiet mutual confession of love whispered into skin.
He focused on keeping his heart rate steady, that was the thing with having a boyfriend who had acutely enhanced senses, it was damn difficult to hide anything from him.
"You hungry?" He asks Matt, not even daring to look at him.
Matt raises his head from the case files he had been pouring over for the past couple of hours, now suddenly aware of his growling stomach. "Actually yeah, I could definitely eat. You want to get some Thai?"
Frank shrugs. "Eh, was thinkin' something different."
"Oh?" Matt's interest was piqued and Frank cursed himself internally, he should have known a change in routine would be risky.
"Yeah I dunno, Madani keeps goin' on 'bout some Persian place. Thought we could try it, go out."
Matt throws him one of those sunbeam smiles of his and Frank is almost ready to give his game away right there.
~
"You've asked me four times now if I enjoyed the food, your pulse rate practically skyrocketed when we left the restaurant… Frank, what the hell is up with you?"
He feels like a defendant on the stand getting flayed by Matt's interrogative tone.
"Nothin'. Maybe Persian food just don't agree with me."
Frank tries his utmost to calm himself down but it's too late now. He's not felt this apprehensive in a long time but right now his nerves are frayed.
Matt stops him on the sidewalk. "Frank, I need the truth. Remember when we said we wouldn't have any more secrets? Spit it out, now."
"Seriously, it's nothin' to get your panties in a bunch about. Let's just get home."
Matt leans closer to him. "Frank." He says in a warning tone.
Frank sighs, grumbling as Matt cocks his head when he hears him reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve something.
"This wasn't how it was s'posed to go… I was gonna… fuck it. Here goes."
He kneels down in front of Matt right on the sidewalk, with the cacophony of sounds and smells of the Kitchen as his witness. He should have known that this of all things would never have gone to plan.
"Matt-"
"What are you-"
"Shh, christ, just shut up for once and let me do this." Frank grumbles as he goes to fish the ring from its velvet pouch. Just then, Matt holds up his hand, cocking his head to the side.
"Wait, wait-"
Frank's face falls and Matt can hear the panicked rhythm of his heart.
"Just… can you hold that thought for me? There's someone holding up a bodega two blocks away. C'mon!" Matt is grabbing Frank's arm and pulling him to his feet.
"Aw you're fucking shittin' me?"
Frank follows him quickly, seeing the situation clear through the glass door before he's throwing it open, striding towards the asshole that's pointing a gun at the young cashier while Matt hangs back, just letting him do his thing. It's something that he's both wary of and turned on by. The way Frank has this single minded focus on a target, whatever it is, he's a force of nature when he's in that mode and it sets the hairs at the back of Matt's neck on end.
The moment the gunman turns and sees Frank, the recognition is instant. Frank doesn't give a shit if he knows who he is, easily disarming him, breaking the guy's wrist and grabbing his arm and slamming him down to the floor, twisting it painfully behind his back.
"You know what you've done, shithead?"
'Shithead' yells in pain as Frank wrenches his arm up higher. "Hey give me a break man, I- I didn't shoot nobody!"
Frank continues. "Nah, but you've scared this nice lady, and ruined me and my partner's evening, that's what. Fuckface." Frank growls loud right next to his face. "Now, I got more important shit to do and I ain't got time to waste takin' your fuckin' sorry ass to the police, so here's the deal - you're gonna wait here for them to come pick you up while we call em. Ain't that so?"
The guy shakes his head. "Yeah sure, good luck with that, I'll be back out again tomorrow anyways!"
Matt comes up from behind Frank and punches the guy square in the face knocking him out.
"Hey!" Frank turns to him, surprised at his actions.
Matt shrugs as he pulls out his phone to call 911. "I was getting impatient, and besides, you've got important shit to do." He turns to the cashier. "Are you okay, miss?"
The woman nods and thanks them both for intervening. Frank restrains the perp with a hefty amount of cable ties from the back room and Matt leaves his N&M card with the cashier. "You just call us if you need any help."
As they walk down the street toward home, Matt can't help the beginnings of a smile tugging up at the corner of his mouth as he waits.
"So, you were saying?" He presses, his smile growing with every second. Frank stops, shakes his head and scoffs.
"It's always gonna be like this ain't it?"
Matt breathes out something between a laugh and a sigh. "Could argue that it keeps it interesting…"
Frank stops him in the street. "Listen. You and I, we ain't always had the smoothest ride and don't I know it, if tonight's anythin' to go by… but there's no one else I'd rather take that ride with." He shakes his head. "What I'm sayin' is-"
Before he can get it out, Matt is sweeping down in front of him on the sidewalk on bended knee, holding out a ring of his own.
Frank could fucking kill him.
"Frank, will you marry me?"
It's all he can do to laugh. "You fucking- get up here you asshole!" He drags him up into his arms and a slow, sensual kiss. The kind where there's no sense of time or place. When they finally separate, they're both smiling so much it almost hurts. They never thought they'd get this far.
"So?" Matt pushes, sliding his hand down to hold Frank's, their fingers interlocking.
Frank huffs against his cheek. "Well, it ain't no." He pulls back, looking at Matt's pretty face. "Will you marry me?"
"Ain't no either!"
"Alright you smart ass," He says, lifting Matt's hand after he retrieves his silver ring from his pocket and slides it onto his finger. Matt does the same with Frank and when he lets go of his hand, he takes off and runs his fingers over the engraving on the inside of the ring that Frank has just given him.
"It says, 'pain in my fuckin' ass forever'. Frank jokes, and Matt laughs and pecks him on the cheek.
"Well yours says 'better the devil you know'." He grins.
"Huh. Whadaya know, we're perfect for each other."
Matt never hopes for much but he can't wipe the look of sheer joy off his face, tugging Frank along, urging him to walk faster so they can get home and he can fully remind him of just how just grateful he is. He can feel Frank's happiness and contentment too, his heart rate settled and strong with the occasional little flutter when he squeezes Matt's hand and feels the ring there, solid and real.
They're all over each other as soon as the door to their apartment closes, and Matt's coffee table is the first and certainly not the last casualty of their unbridled passion as they make their way to the bedroom. But when they get there it's all gentle love. There will always be bruises, but they'll always be chased with kisses.
.
.
Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @mattmurdockspainkink @briefcasejuice @frankcastlescumslut
@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemii @imherefordeanandbones @realfernmayo @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re @frankcastlescumslut @chellestrash @chvoswxtch @messymissy @evilbubu @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @anna-hawk @km-ffluv
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flowerandblood · 16 days
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The Taste of Desire (AU)
[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]
[ warnings: sex with soft domination, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, remorse, doubts related to sex work ]
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[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients − however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. One of his clients surprises him with her behaviour, making him experience something he has never felt before, with his own actions and emotions slipping out of his control. Sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]
This oneshot is an alternative universe for my series The Taste of Shame in which Aemond meets the main character as his client. It shows how their lives would have turned out and what their first time would have been like if Aemond had done it for money. Created to celebrate my anniversary on 22 March.
Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other series: Masterlist
_____
He was never picky when it came to his female clients. They had to meet basic standards like hygiene, no venereal diseases and they couldn't go beyond a certain time, but once they signed a confidentiality clause, what he was going to do with them was no longer important to him.
He kept repeating to himself that he was there for them, not them for him, so he focused on giving them what they wanted in a way that didn't disturb his comfort zone.
He did not allow them to kiss or touch him with their hands. In fact, he preferred that any involvement they had in what was happening was minimal. What he found most pleasing in the whole act was his violence towards them, and the more they consented to, the more he was satisfied.
Their pleas and cries of pain combined with some subconscious pleasure that such sadomasochism gave them made him struggle to hold back the mocking smile that pressed against his lips.
They wanted to be treated like worthless objects, and that's what he was giving them, because that's exactly how he thought of them.
He didn't try to delve into considering what he thought of himself, because he decided that would end up with a visit to a psychiatrist. He was studying quantum physics, lived far away from his family and needed a steady, high source of income. Since silly girls could make money from sex cams, he could make money that way, at least until he had no other prospects.
The only way to contact him was through an online form on his website, where they would write why they wanted to meet, indicate what suited them or not, and if he felt he could meet their whims, he would arrange to meet them to discuss the details and sign the documents.
Scrolling through dozens of similar messages about tying, gagging, beating and humiliation he stopped on one where only a few things were marked. He thought surprised that he wouldn't even link them to aggressive domination per se, and certainly not the kind he usually used.
Good morning. I've been thinking a lot lately about what I'd like to try, but I'm also a bit embarrassed about it. I don't know if this can be subsumed under your interests, I'm completely inexperienced, so maybe that's why I'm looking for a professional who knows what he's doing and would be able to show me what I actually need and want. I apologise for the rather chaotic explanation and send my regards. Selected practices: spanking, verbal domination, fingering
He blinked and scratched his chin, both intrigued and uncertain at the same time, glanced quickly at her age and saw that she was younger than him. He bit his lower lip feeling that something in the idea that she was still inexperienced and only willing to explore her needs attracted him, the thought that this would be some sort of challenge for him.
He decided that why not.
She was an adult.
He looked forward to meeting her with the utmost curiosity. Her requirements were basic enough that he didn't need to prepare any extra kinks, and since she didn't want sex with penetration, it also gave him a greater sense of confidence and peace of mind, because he knew he wouldn't have to chase his orgasm, imagining some woman from porn, and would be able to concentrate only on what he was doing to her.
When he heard a quiet knock on the door of the flat he rented only to meet his female clients, he got up immediately from behind his desk and opened it for her, swallowing hard as his gaze involuntarily swept over her figure and stopped on her face.
God.
This was not what he had expected.
She looked even younger than she had written, her eyes big and bright, looking at him with fear and dread, though usually the women who came to him, learned by experience, kept their gaze meekly on the floor, waiting for him to command them to look at himself.
She was dressed in a plain white Tshirt and high-waisted jeans, a fabric coloured backpack on her back, her hair loose, shiny, dark, slightly wavy, he could smell the fruity scent of her perfume or shower gel.
He grunted quietly, trying to keep a stony face, feeling that involuntarily his gaze expressed shock, he took a few steps back and invited her in, and she walked in uncertainly, turning away quickly as he closed the door behind her.
"Come in. Do not be afraid." He said lowly, pointing to his desk which stood in the deeper part of the flat, walking in that direction, she looked in horror at the bed standing on the other side.
He heard her swallow hard, tense and red, pulling her backpack off her back, placing it in her lap immediately after she sat down in the chair opposite him, as if trying to ward off and protect herself from him in this way.
He took his seat on the other side and tapped his index finger on the top of his wooden oak desk, thinking that he had never had a client like her before. She was completely distracted, her gaze sweeping across the room as if she were a curious child, her fingers tightening on the material of her rucksack.
"As I mentioned, first the contract and confidentiality clause." He said calmly, handing her copies of the contract and clause he had sent her earlier.
She took them from him and looked into his eyes again, making him swallow hard; it wasn't a defiant look and it wasn't meant to seduce him. It seemed to him just the opposite, she wanted to show him that some part of her was genuinely afraid of him.
She nodded, her hands trembling all over as she took the sheets of paper in her hands, she looked around quickly and clumsily grabbed a pen. He wondered, seeing what was happening to her, if what she wanted was really good for her and although he never meddled in his clients' decisions, he decided to intervene, for her sake and his own.
"You can still resign. I won't burden you with the cost." He said lowly, watching her closely, and saw that she flinched all over. She lifted the gaze of her bright eyes to him, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her mouth opened and closed as if she was trying to get something out of herself.
"I…I think I want to try. This one time. Do you think it's a bad idea, sir?" She asked him in a trembling, soft, girlish voice. The note of innocence that lurked in this after all defiant question made him twist in his seat, feeling surprised that his manhood swelled a little, he felt like he was literally burning her with his gaze.
He thought it was because she was so vulnerable, it turned him on that he was more experienced than her and had real control over what could happen next if she wanted it.
He chuckled involuntarily at her words, shaking his head, sighing quietly, looking at her indulgently.
"What I think about it doesn't matter." He murmured lowly, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair with a loud creak of wood.
He felt heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of her not dropping her gaze, boldly staring him in the face as if they had known each other for a long time, despite the fact that most women knew their buttocks would be red and swollen like tomatoes for such insolence.
"I would, however, like to hear your views on the matter, sir." She replied quickly, as if she recognised him as some sort of authority on the matter, a sexologist or anyone else who could give her a diagnosis.
"I am not a doctor. However, I don't think there is anything wrong with trying under controlled conditions. You also have a safe word that you can use at any time to stop whatever I'm doing. You have to decide." He said finally, and saw her nod her head, drawing in air loudly as if gathering her courage, and leaned over, signing the documents in the spaces indicated.
For some reason he involuntarily licked his lips, dried from some kind of excitement, his cock twitching hard in his trousers at the thought that she was really going to do this.
When she finished he took the papers from her, signed them and gave her one copy, reminding her of all the rules they had agreed and what she could not do.
"You can't touch me or kiss me. When we start, you are to call me 'sir' and follow all my instructions. You are to answer all my questions by shaking or nodding your head unless I order you otherwise. I will not stop even if you beg me or cry until I hear your safe word which, please remind us, sounds how?" He asked softly, stapling the papers she had signed with a stapler, tucking them into his drawer, watching her out of the corner of his eye, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the very thought of what he was going to do to her.
Why was he so aroused when he hadn't even touched her yet?
"Peach." She muttered embarrassedly, looking down at her hands.
For a moment he wondered if he should add the rule he usually made where a woman couldn't look him in the eye, but something in her eyes captured him, her gaze wasn't seductive or filled with feelings he didn't want to see, he also guessed that forbidding it might overwhelm her even more, and he didn't want that.
He nodded at her words, rising, and she rose with him, holding her backpack in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive gesture, as if she was afraid of him and the fact that she had somehow given him control over her.
He approached her slowly, looking at her vigilantly, her eyes fixed on his face as his hand took the rucksack from her arms in a gentle motion, dropping it next to her on the floor. His fingers rose to her cheeks, trailing over them, her jaw and her chin, he felt her tremble all over, surprised, her swollen, plump lips red with emotion.
Although he had never done this, he wanted to get a good look at her first, he knew that going straight to putting his hand in her panties would only frighten her and in this situation his tactics had to be a tad different.
First and foremost, he wanted to reassure her.
He saw that she had closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly through her mouth as his hands slid down to her neck and her soft hair. He thought, smelling her fruity scent, that he would have given anything to have her kneel before him and take his achingly hard manhood into her mouth.
He decided that perhaps he would use his thoughts to embolden her a little more and let him do what he wanted.
"Such a sweet girl. You have no idea what I'd like to do with those lips." He hummed, feeling a shiver pass through her as one of his hands rose higher again, to her face, parting her lips with his thumb. "How hard I am now."
He saw the shock in her gaze, which quickly escaped down to the bulge in his trousers, her cheeks flushed as she looked up into his face again, her breathing quickened and ragged. He sighed involuntarily at the sight.
"You can say a lot of things about me, but not that I'm a liar. Open." He commanded in a slightly cooler, stricter tone, her lips immediately parted slightly, allowing his thumb to slide deep between her fleshy, wet lips.
"Suck." He instructed, a quiet moan caught in her throat, her body suddenly quivering as the fingers of his free hand slid lower to her breast, teasing her nipple in calm, circular motions, her lips tightening around his thumb, obeying his command.
"Do you always walk around without a bra? Hm? Do you like it when men look at them?" He muttered warningly, pulling lightly on her nipple, looking at her curiously, she squirmed helplessly, closing her eyes, not knowing what to do with her hands. He could see how, in some subconscious reflex, she wanted to lift them up and embrace him, but reminded herself that she couldn't do that and lowered them again, moving him in some way and arousing him at the same time.
He couldn't remember if his client had ever made him completely hard by her behaviour itself.
"Quiet. We haven't even started properly yet, and already you want me to slap your arse?" He growled mockingly, and she shook her head quickly, drawing in air loudly, looking at him with a pleading look of her big, bright eyes, which he felt between his thighs as his cock swelled unbearably, demanding attention.
"This is my last warning. Lie on your stomach." He said coldly, although inside he felt like his body was on fire.
She obediently pulled off her shoes and lay down on the bed, watching, embarrassed, as he slipped his thumb, moist with her saliva, between his lips and licked it. He quickly pulled off his sweatshirt and shoes, leaving in his black short-sleeved T-shirt and trousers, fixing his hair with a careless flick of his hand.
"Leave only your panties on." He added, hearing her quiet squeal as his large hand gave her one, light, sharp smack on her buttock, just as an encouragement to keep her going.
"Just like that. So pretty." He hummed, watching her undress, climbing onto the bed behind her. He involuntarily licked his lips and grinned in amusement when he saw that underneath her trousers she was wearing pretty lace panties in powder pink.
He thought she was like a lollipop or candy, a sweet little gift bought just for pure pleasure.
As she pulled off her t-shirt she clung with her breasts to the bedclothes, looking somewhere sideways towards the window as if she was afraid of how exposed she was, that she was lying half-naked in front of a strange man who, on top of that, she was going to have to pay for it.
Although he cursed himself for it in the back of his head, the sincerity and naturalness of her behaviour endeared her to him, he thought in disbelief that he wasn't sure that even if she had asked him to punish her more harshly or to cause her intense pain he would have been able to do it.
Would it give him pleasure.
He took her hair aside, exposing her long neck and back, felt her shudder all over as his fingers ran along her spine.
"Are you going to be good, or should I tie you up?" He murmured and she nodded quickly, he hummed under his breath, stroking her bare skin. "Use your words."
"I'll be good. Sir." She added quickly, hearing him shift suddenly in irritation. He let out a loud breath through his nose, leaning down, grasping her wrists in his hands, placing them on either side of her head, showing her the position he expected her to hold them in.
"Your hands are supposed to be here at all times. On the pillow. If I see you take them away from here, I'll tie you up and on top of that, I'll give you ten slaps on the bottom to make sure you remember this lesson well. Do you understand? Use your words." He hissed, driving his fingers into the skin of her wrists, heard her swallow hard and nod her head quickly.
"− y-yes, sir −"
He gasped softly, pleased with her answer and the way it was going. He saw her hands tighten on the material of the pillow as he settled his knees on either side of her buttocks, lowering himself onto them so that she could feel his cock throbbing all under the material of his trousers. She stifled the cry that wanted to escape her lips by pressing her face against his bedding.
"− do you fucking feel it? − do you feel what you're doing to me? −" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, not knowing why instead of pulling himself together and concentrating on his task he was teasing her, making his manhood painfully hard, he clamped his eyelids shut when he felt her hips begin to buck uncertainly to the rhythm of his movements.
He decided that fuck it, he would do it the way he felt like it, breaking his own rules, knowing that unlike the other women, she really needed this.
His closeness.
She sighed loudly and her whole body trembled as he pressed his face against her soft, fragrant hair, crushing her with his own weight, his hands roamed over the skin of her bare shoulders and the sides of her waist as his nose slowly slid lower, down to her neck, his fingers slipped underneath her and tightened on her soft, plump breasts as his lips pressed against her bare skin.
He heard her start to pant loudly through her mouth, surprised as he was, surely imagining it differently, writhing beneath him, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her breasts, his hot breath enveloping her ear.
"− lie still or we'll do it rough − spread your thighs −" He growled, his thumbs pressing and playing with her nipples, he spread her legs with his knees, making her breath catch in her throat, he could feel her heart pounding fast under his hands, his tongue ran over the bare skin of her neck, smelling the salty taste of her sweat and the sweet taste of her perfume.
"− you're already wet, hm? − shall we check? −" He sneered, sliding the palms of his one hand down her belly, he saw out of the corner of his eye that her fingers clenched tightly on the fabric of the pillow, her whole body stiffened, her head tilted slightly as his fingertips pushed the soft, soaked material of her underwear aside, sinking into her leaking, fleshy womanhood.
"− good God − look at you − all sticky and warm −" He gasped, stopping her when she wanted to sink her face into the pillow in front of her again, his fingers began to tease and squeeze her clit lightly, giving her a few encouraging strokes from which helpless, muffled sounds tried to escape her throat, his hand let go of her breasts for a moment and slapped her buttock with all his might, reminding her that she was supposed to be quiet.
He didn't even notice when he started rubbing against her faster from the top, chasing his own fulfilment, completely aroused by what was happening to her, how she was responding to him.
He felt like his cock was about to explode.
"− moan for me − let me hear these sweet sounds −" He whispered in her ear, driving his fingers harder into the soft, leaking structure of her folds.
Moan for me?
What the fuck was that supposed to be?
He sighed when she cried out loudly, clenching her eyes, writhing all under him, again and again rubbing his sore cock with her buttocks. He felt ashamed that even though he was the master of the situation, it seemed to him that somehow it was she who was dictating how it looked, or rather his inability to treat her as he did his other clients.
There was something innocent about her, that her goal was not for him to humiliate her, beat her or hurt her, but for him to guide her, to show her what she really desired and what he could do with her body.
He thought, running his fingertips over her moist, hot entrance, that perhaps this was what he had been craving deep inside himself all this time.
"− ah − please, sir −" She mewled helplessly, and he felt her words between his thighs. He licked his lips, trailing his fingers over her throbbing, weeping cunt, teasing her hard nipple with his other hand, each of his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.
"− what are you asking me to do? − use your words −" He exhaled, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to climax himself, and wondered if he was going to cum in his own trousers for the first time in his life.
"− please − please, put it inside me −" She mumbled out and he swallowed hard feeling her buttocks rubbing against his cock.
He froze for a moment, running his fingers over her hot, leaking folds, fighting with himself, on the one hand wanting only this, on the other the contract was different and he never broke the terms he himself had agreed to and signed.
What if, afterwards, she found that she didn't want it and decided that he had raped her, go to the police with it?
This thought sobered his mind a little, though his whole body shuddered with disappointment, his two fingers suddenly forced their way inside her with her moan of pleasure.
"− I can't − you know I can't, don't you? −" He breathed out, pressing the tips of his fingertips into the fleshy structure of her muscles, searching for the spot hidden between them.
She shuddered all over when he felt it a moment later, his thumb trailing over her clit as his two fingers dug in between her slick folds with a loud click of her wetness, he felt her whole body tense in anticipation, again and again his fingers squeezed her the way she needed it.
"− I'll be good, sir − please − please − please − I'll be good −" She cried out, her sticky walls began to clench around his fingers, sucking them inside, he closed his eyes, imagining he felt it on his hard, aching cock.
How tight she was.
He'd never done this before and he knew he shouldn't, but for some reason he was desperate, his mind clouded by what he'd seen and what he needed.
He watched her face in disbelief, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her lips parted sweetly in a loud, accelerated breath.
"We can do this, but on my terms. I'll just fuck you, nothing more. No money. Do you understand?" He asked her in a trembling voice, as if he wanted to make sure she understood, that it meant nothing to him, that she just turned him on too much and he wanted to take it out on her.
He saw her eyes open suddenly, fear and relief filling her gaze as she whispered just a few words without looking at him.
"Let me look at your face, sir."
He himself didn't know when he suddenly flipped her onto her back as his lips clung with a loud purr to her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it, he heard her moan loudly, startled, making him lose his temper. His hands in a helpless reflex slid down to the button of his trousers and his zipper, releasing his erection quickly, he wasn't sure he had ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time.
He knew things had gotten out of hand and that he would regret it, but he couldn't deny himself, knowing that he would probably never see her again.
"Don't touch me. Do you understand? If you touch me, I'll stop and I'll slap your arse so hard you won't be able to sit for the next few weeks." He hissed, looking her straight in the face, reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out the condom, and she merely nodded, her hands clenched on either side of her face, her swollen lips parted in a quick, uneven breath.
He looked at her pretty figure, her sweet, plump breasts, her flushed face, her hair in disarray, and thought helplessly that she was beautiful and that he would go mad if he didn't do this to her.
Never before had he put a condom over his length as quickly as he did then, with a quick, sure, impatient movement he slid her panties off her, already all wet with her moisture, grabbed her by her hips and pushed her closer, momentarily forcing her tight, leaking folds to let him inside her.
He didn't speak, because he didn't know what he was supposed to say either, ashamed of his own desperation as he pushed deeper into her with a sure, sharp thrust.
He began to pound into her as if he had completely lost his mind, fast and out of control, she threw her head to the side, writhing beneath him, moaning loudly, her walls wonderfully moist and hot, clenching on him so tightly that he struggled to restrain himself from cumming just yet, not wanting to humiliate himself.
"− oh God −" He muttered, looking at her as if through a fog, leaning over her, his hands found hers, her fingers clenched on them, seeking proximity, she looked up at him pleadingly, panting and quivering.
He suspected that never before had anyone fucked her at such a brutal, fast pace from which she couldn't catch her breath, her thighs spread wide before him in a gesture of complete trust, their bodies slapping against each other with the loud clicks of her wetness.
"− these idiots couldn't even fuck you properly, hm? −" He panted low and she only nodded, his fingers intertwining with hers in some subconscious reflex, as if he wanted to show her that he understood her, that she had a right to be disappointed, that he had no idea how any man could fail to give her what she needed.
"− my poor little baby − am I right? −" He breathed out and she cried loudly and nodded her head, something in her gaze, in her eyes flooded with tears, filled with despair, tenderness and relief made him lean lower and cling to her lips.
She moaned loudly into his throat and he felt her walls squeeze him tightly with a sudden, intense orgasm, sucking him inside as his tongue invaded between her lips. She reciprocated his kiss with such devotion that a few of his helpless, sloppy thrusts were enough to make him cum into the condon.
"− fuck − fuck, baby −" He breathed out into her mouth as if she was his, as if they were in his bed in his flat, as if he loved her and was about to have dinner with her or go to sleep lying next to her, as if she wasn't a stranger to him, her sweet scent, her innocent sounds and the taste of her mouth were all that filled his mind as he continued to rock his hips deep inside her.
Even though they had both came, they didn't stop kissing, their lips joining and pulling away from each other lazily with a loud click of their saliva, his hands roaming up and down her fingers, alternately stroking them and entwining them with his own again.
Something about what was happening between them, about this sudden, unexpected closeness calmed him and made him completely drift off.
He knew that she had wanted to touch and kiss him from the very beginning, but she still respected his decision and his rules.
And he, for some reason incomprehensible to himself, broke them for her.
He pressed his face to her cheek, panting along with her, unsure of what he should do now, distracted and ashamed that he couldn't help himself, that for the first time in his life he had overstepped the time and competence he should have given her.
And that wasn't good.
What if she thinks now that they are in love with each other, that maybe one day they will be together? If she starts writing to him and stalking him like so many women before her?
"I'm sorry." He heard her whisper and shuddered, snapped out of his reverie.
He opened his eyes and met her gaze, her hands still on either side of her head. He grunted quietly, horrified at how close she was, that he could smell her pleasant scent so intensely, her breath, the warmth of her body.
"I'm the one who should apologise. I behaved unprofessionally. I won't take money from you." He replied after a moment, and she shook her head, shocked.
"− n-no, why − I mean − after all, you did what we agreed to do − you gave me your time, I −"
"− you're not the kind of person who would enjoy a strong dominant-submissive interaction − you'd be terrified − you're worrying too much − probably those guys before me didn't ask you what you needed, hm? − that's what I thought − there's nothing wrong with you − that's my diagnosis −" He hummed, sighing heavily, lifting himself up on his elbows, placing a lingering, tender kiss on her forehead.
He slipped out of her gently with her quiet hiss of discomfort, saw her press her lips together when he slided the shed condom off his manhood and tie it off, tossing it into the small bin standing next to his bed, zipping his trousers back up. He saw her reach with a trembling hand for her underwear and sighed under his breath, shaking his head.
"Wipe yourself well first, the tissues are lying on the table next to you. Don't you have underwear to change into?" He asked uncertainly, realising that this was usually obvious to the women who visited him, as it was to him, so he didn't warn her, thinking she would figure it out for herself.
She shook her head quickly and he sighed heavily, taking a bottle of water standing on the table, unscrewing it and handing it to her, seeing that she completely didn't know what she should do with herself now.
"− drink − you'd better just wipe yourself off and put your trousers on −" He replied and she nodded, red with embarrassment, taking a few deep sips of water without looking at him.
He turned away as she started to get dressed, running his hand over his face, recognising that he was an idiot and had completely lost his fucking mind, unable to forgive himself for fucking her even though their terms were different.
He shuddered as she approached him quietly, he thought terrified that she was going to try to touch him, maybe even thinking they were going to become lovers now, but she just held a bundle of banknotes in front of him, looking at him pleadingly.
"− I already told you I won't take it − keep it −"
"− I can't, after all −"
"− don't piss me off −" He growled, and she pressed her lips together, lowering her hand, swallowing loudly.
They stared at each other for a long moment in awkward silence to say the least. He grunted, combing his fingers through his hair, feeling that for some reason his heart was pounding like crazy.
What was happening to him?
"− consider it a gift − we both made each other feel good − right? −" He asked, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt her. She nodded and smiled softly, shyly, for some reason making him feel a squeeze in his throat.
He regretted that she had ever written to him.
He regretted that he had said yes.
He regretted that it had been so pleasant.
"− thank you − and I apologise again − I won't take up your time anymore − I wish you all the best − please take care of yourself and be happy −" She said finally, and he flinched, looking at her in disbelief, he felt his lips parted in shock, looking at her dully, as if he didn't understand what she had actually said.
He didn't know what to answer.
Only after a while did he get anything out of himself, feeling that she was due at least some perfunctory answer.
"− it's me who's sorry − I also wish you all the best −"
She nodded and smiled warmly at him, before her trembling hand reached for her backpack and headed towards the door, opening it and disappearing behind it a moment later.
He looked at the bed, at the sheets where the mark of her body was clearly visible, the fact that she had just been lying there, that he had been deep inside her and had fucked her like he had never put his cock inside any woman before.
He went over there and just lay on his stomach, sinking his face into the pillow that was drenched in her scent.
For the next few days, his head was in a state of chaos, one part of him afraid that she would reach out to him, that she would seek contact or a relationship with him, like so many women before her wanting to be special to him, to be the only one.
The other part of him was even begging for her to do it, for him to be able to free himself at last from the memories of what he had done to her, that she had broken something in him, that he couldn't look at the women who came after her.
He couldn't focus, he felt remorse, he couldn't even get aroused and he was so frustrated that, to the despair of his regular clients, he decided to take a break for a few weeks to cool down.
His friend from university, Robert, had already invited him to his birthday party a month earlier and although he didn't have the energy to go anywhere, he knew that afterwards he would be listening to him and Criston moan in class about how completely unsocial he was.
He figured that since it was only going to be a private party at his house, he might as well go there at least for a while so no one would accuse him of lack of effort.
When he stopped outside his house he got out of the car and decided to have a quick cigarette, tired and discouraged, knowing that sooner or later his savings would run out and he would have to go back to it, whether he wanted to or not.
Or find another, lower-paid job.
He sighed heavily, clamping his fingers over the base of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to calm himself. He heard movement beside him and the screech of brakes, lifted his gaze and froze when it became apparent that she had just sat down beside him from her bike, a wide smile on her lips as if she thought he was a stranger, only recognising him after a moment, her lips parted then in horror, panic in her gaze.
He stared at her, feeling his body freeze.
Fuck.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"Oh God. Do you know Robert?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightening in his throat at the thought that she could have been his friend's girlfriend.
"Yes. Fuck. And you?" He asked her quickly with some sort of accusation, from which she swallowed hard.
"I-I, I'm his younger sister. I went to get some candles, I didn't know…"
"It's okay. I'll just go home." He replied, taking a few quick puffs of his cigarette, crushing it with his foot, turning back towards his car.
"N-no, please. Are you Aemond? Did I guess right? Robert was telling me about you. How he's glad you're coming. That you rarely talk or go out somewhere as a threesome with Criston. It's good that we met here, we'll avoid an awkward greeting. Please, don't be embarrassed." She muttered, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, heartbroken. They both shuddered when they heard a knock on the glass, Robert looked at them through the window and started waving at them, gleeful.
Jesus Christ.
They both headed towards her house, knowing that since he'd seen him, he couldn't run away anymore anyway. He was terrified that since she was Robert's sister, she was someone familiar, not a stranger, that this changed everything and nothing, his heart pounding like mad.
"Do you have a lighter?" She asked as they stopped in front of the front door and he shook his head, snapped out of his reverie, frowning his brow.
"What?"
"Do you have a lighter? Can you help me? I need to light the candles on his birthday cake." She muttered in a whisper as if someone might overhear them, and she was telling him an important secret. He sighed heavily and nodded, recognising that he must have been dreaming all this.
Robert greeted him with joy, all around them Criston, their family and a few of his high school friends, a whole group of people he didn't know and with whom he knew he wouldn't find common ground, and among them her.
He wished him well and gave him his present, but he was unable to focus, he met her terrified gaze, she was pointing her finger at him that she needed his help in the kitchen.
He followed her as if into the lion's mouth, watching from the side as she opened the fridge in the darkness, taking out a blueberry meringue. She sighed heavily, placing it on the table in front of him, only the lights of the street lamps around them.
"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I did my best." She mumbled, as if she wanted to say anything that would lighten the atmosphere between them.
He felt like an idiot when their trembling hands touched as he handed her the lighter and swallowed loudly, watching as one by one the candles began to glow with the warm, bright light of the flame.
He wanted to ask her if something in her life had changed, if she now knew what she wanted and needed, if she thought about what had happened.
Was she thinking about him.
She picked up the cake when it was all ready and let the air out loud through her mouth, looking him straight in the eye.
"Let's go."
After singing a short 'Happy Birthday', Robert blew out all the candles, happy to announce that his little sister had remembered what cake he loved best, assuring everyone that it was certainly delicious.
They spent the whole party throwing surreptitious, embarrassed glances at each other, he had to empty a few glasses of strong Whisky to calm himself down, the alcohol relaxing him a little, though only seemingly, suppressing his fear, but making him start thinking about something else again.
He looked at her figure dressed in a modest mid-thigh summer dress, her hair, her face, saw the way she laughed, the way she talked to others and felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that then, being with him, she wasn't pretending.
She really was like that.
Affectionate, open, sweet, kind.
Everything he wasn't.
He swallowed heavily at the thought, sad and embittered, taking another deep sip from his glass.
"How are you going to get home? Criston is staying the night at our house, why don't you stay too? It's late." Said Robert sitting down next to him on the couch, patting him on the back in a friendly manner, already himself relaxed by the considerable amount of alcohol his body had assimilated.
He swallowed hard, looking at his sister from afar, feeling that this was a very bad idea.
"Why not." He muttered, thinking that he was a moron for looking for trouble himself, and that if Robert found out what he'd done to his sister, he'd kill him with his own hands.
Criston and a few others occupied the upstairs rooms, and he suggested he could sleep in the living room on the couch, to which Robert agreed.
He hoped this would embolden her to come to him, as he himself would never have dared to knock on her door despite how desperate he was.
At the thought that he might feel her again, his manhood reacted with an enthusiastic, intense pulsing in his trousers.
He felt that he was drunk as he began to pull off his black tight turtleneck, managing it with difficulty, pulling off his shoes, laying down dressed only in Tshirt and trousers with a quiet sigh and covered himself carelessly with the blanket, listening.
Is she going to do it or not?
And even if she comes to him, should he agree?
He felt disappointment when an hour passed and nothing happened, silence all around him and the loud snoring of someone coming from the upstairs rooms, perhaps her and Robert's father. He sighed heavily, recognising that he had made it all up, that she was surely now ashamed of him and what she had done, trying to forget it.
He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling discomfort in his stomach, and closed his eyes, figuring he would try to get at least a few hours of sleep.
He shuddered and opened them again when he heard a quiet creak, as if someone was walking down the corridor above him, but he wasn't sure himself if it wasn't just his imagination. A shiver ran down his spine and his manhood swelled all over when he heard someone quietly walk down the steps.
Whoever this person was, however, she didn't approach him but walked through the living room to the kitchen.
He felt his heart start pounding like crazy when he caught sight of her silhouette in the darkness, dressed only in an oversized white Tshirt and light shorts, she walked over to the tap, took a glass from the drawer and poured herself some water.
Should he approach her or not?
What if she gets scared?
Fuck.
He didn't even know when he just picked himself up on the couch, for some reason doing it very slowly so that his movements couldn't be heard, he felt like a predator who wanted to get closer to his prey even though he didn't really intend to harm her.
As soon as he stood up he immediately felt the room around him spin, the pleasant, intoxicating warmth of the alcohol melting through his lower abdomen making him seem less terrified of what he wanted to do than if he had been completely sober.
When she caught sight of his silhouette out of the corner of her eye she almost choked on the water, she spat some of it into the sink coughing loudly, making him freeze motionless, afraid to approach her, she quickly wiped her mouth with her hand, looking at him with big eyes.
"My God, you scared me." She muttered pale, her pretty, smooth face illuminated by the warm light of the street lamps standing in front of her house.
He stared at her for a moment, thinking that perhaps it must all have been a dream after all, that the fact that she was standing in front of him was unreal, invented by his distraught, drunken mind.
"I'm sorry." He stammered, swallowing hard, standing a good distance away from her, fighting with himself not to look shamelessly at her bare legs and her nipples peeking through from under her T-shirt.
Again.
They stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence, both of them breathing embarrassingly loudly, as if each of them was reliving deep inside themselves the fact that they were seeing each other again.
And on top of that, in her brother's house.
"I didn't know you were his sister. I swear. I would never do that to you." He finally started to speak, to explain, although he didn't know why, he had the feeling that he was trying to get anything out of himself so she didn't go back upstairs to her room.
He heard her sigh quietly, stroking her bare shoulder with her trembling hand. She shifted from foot to foot in a nervous gesture, looking somewhere to the side, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.
"I know." She whispered, and he felt a heat in his lower abdomen and a pleasant shudder at the thought that perhaps she wasn't misjudging him, that perhaps she wasn't disgusted by him at all.
"How do you feel? I mean − are you okay?" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she wasn't sure if she should be asking this kind of question. She glanced at him uncertainly, clearly wanting to check his reaction, he stared at her stunned, completely surprised by her question.
"− I… yeah, I guess − I mean, I'm on a break from − you know − from this − right now −" He muttered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, looking at the floor, feeling ashamed and embarrassed for some reason.
It's because of you, he wanted to say.
I did it for you.
"Something happened?" She asked after a moment, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex, as if she was afraid of what she would hear.
"− yes − I mean − I have doubts − I always had, but now… they've intensified − you know −" He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his throat and stomach growing stronger, his heart pounding like mad, cold sweat running down his back.
I'm just a whore, he thought.
I sell myself for money.
She nodded her head quickly so he knew she understood.
"− I'm sorry −" She said quietly, and he looked at her dully, not knowing why for some reason his lower lip trembled, why he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids.
He was ashamed that he desired her so much, that he wanted her words but also her body, wanted to fuck her first and then embrace her and fall asleep.
Was he treating her objectively? Was he only able to think about one thing?
Sex, sex, sex, sex.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
He shuddered, drawing in air loudly as she came closer to him, in her gaze genuine fear and worry at his condition, questioning whether she could do anything for him, help him in any way.
He knew she longed to touch him, he saw out of the corner of his eye her hand rising to touch his shoulder but falling back after a moment, reminding himself that he never allowed anyone to invade his space.
He felt like screaming.
"− do you want to talk about it? −"
He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone about it, but after a while he was sitting next to her on the terrace anyway, covered in a thick, soft blanket, sitting next to her on a rather uncomfortable wooden bench hanging by chains, which he rocked back and forth with involuntary movements of his knees, lighting a cigarette from his lighter with a quiet hiss of fire.
He took a drag and let the smoke out loudly through his nose, sighing quietly, just thinking about the fact that their hips and shoulders were touching.
"What did you think of me? After all this." He asked suddenly, swallowing loudly as he heard her twist in her place, throwing him a surprised, even horrified look. She sighed quietly, covering herself more tightly with the fluffy material.
"That you are a good man."
He felt his hand with the cigarette freeze in mid-motion as he was about to take another drag, for some reason he laughed in disbelief at her words, feeling a piercing pain in his chest, his eyebrows arching in amusement.
"That I'm a good man. Good God." He hummed, taking another drag, he could see she was looking down at her fingers, ashamed of her words and his cruel reaction. He licked his lower lip with his tongue and closed his eyes, feeling that he was completely hard.
He could smell her, she was still using that fruity, pleasant, fresh perfume.
"You're a romantic, innocent soul, aren't you?" He sneered, letting the smoke out again through his nose with a loud sigh, he heard her cough quietly as the smell of tobacco rose into her lungs. She grunted quietly, her lips tightened in displeasure.
"Innocent souls come to a strange man to spank them for money?"
"You didn't want me to spank you. You haven't experienced even a hint of real, hard domination, sweet girl." He snarled, spreading himself out comfortably on the back of the bench with a loud creak of wood, the metal chains squeaking quietly each time he made another movement with his foot, putting the structure in motion.
"So why did you agree to this?" She asked finally, and he fell silent, staring blankly ahead, taking one last drag on what was left of his cigarette.
"Good question."
They both fell silent again, feeling that their conversation was starting to get out of hand, and after all, someone could have woken up, opened the window, overheard their words.
"Did you tell Robert?" He asked suddenly, and she shook her head, horrified.
"N-no, of course not. And I won't. This is between you two. He respects you very much." She muttered, lowering her gaze to her bent knees, which she held under her chin. He hummed at her statement, accepting her words with some sort of relief.
"Did that help you? Now you know what you need?" He asked impassively, letting the smoke out loudly through his mouth, dropping the remnants of his cigarette into the glass with the unfinished drink, feeling her gaze on him, her body tense, he knew she had hesitated.
"In a way." She replied, and he dared to look her straight in the eye.
She didn't lower her gaze even though he knew some part of her wanted to do so, her lips parted slightly when she noticed his hands had slipped under the blanket, into his trousers. She swallowed loudly when she heard the sound of his zipper being undone and the fabric being unfastened.
"Come here. Sit on my lap." He ordered softly, and she did so without hesitation, as if she had only been waiting for those words, something in her confidence, in her assurance, in her desire, in her hot gaze made his breath stand in his throat.
They said nothing as he slipped her shorts off her, as he lowered his trousers, finally releasing his aching, swollen erection, already leaking from his precum. He didn't protest when her hands tentatively embraced his neck, barely touching him, merely catching her balance, his free hand covering their hips with a blanket.
"I'm clean. I had myself tested a few weeks ago, after I'd already taken a break." He whispered, feeling his cock throb aggressively in his hand at the thought that he could come deep inside her if she would just let him. She nodded her head in understanding, one movement of his hand between her thighs reassuring him that no further treatment would be necessary.
"Have you been this wet all evening? Hm? Have you suffered as much as I have?" He gasped, directing the pink, fat head of his manhood at her entrance. She nodded again, her lips parted in disbelief and delight, her eyes closed as she felt him begin to push inside her, his thumbs spreading her folds to the sides, watching with a rapidly beating heart as he slowly opened her wide on his cock.
"− fuck − fuck, tell me you're taking your pills −" He breathed out, tilting his head back, with one sure thrust of his hips filling her tight, leaking cunt to the brim. She squirmed quietly as he began to move inside her immediately, pounding into her with deep, sure stabs, rubbing each time the spot inside her from where she could see stars.
"− y-yes −" She mumbled out, rising and falling on his thick, aching manhood, giving him a wonderful squeeze each time, from which he sank his fingers deeper into her soft buttocks, forcing her into a fast, sharp rhythm in which he hardly slid out of her, panting and grunting louder than usual, thinking only of how wonderfully warm she was, that he could feel her moist, fleshy walls with his whole being with each sure thrust.
"− kiss me −" He exhaled and groaned loudly into her mouth as her lips instantly clung to his in a sloppy, sticky dance, his tongue invading deep into her throat, a shudder went through him as one of her hands combed through his hair.
"− m sorry −" She mumbled, immediately lowering her hand, but he put his one arm around her waist and pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss with a loud purr of satisfaction, feeling wonderful, the alcohol had given him courage, and her touch was sweet and tender, not making him feel cornered.
"− it's okay − touch my face −" He sighed out between loud, wet licks of their swollen lips, quickening his pace as her hands gripped his cheeks, as her forehead pressed against his. Her walls began to clench on him with increasing intensity, making him lose his temper, not letting her escape the brutal thrusts of his hips.
"− oh, God − fuck, where −" He only mumbled, feeling that it was about to be too late.
"− please, inside me − ah −" She mewled so sweetly that he sighed loudly, surprised to feel his muscles relax, his semen spilling deep inside her without his willpower as her walls began to suck him and squeeze him in orgasm.
They both panted loudly, rocking their hips for a while longer, pulsing and shuddering, stroking each other's faces, looking at each other with their lips slightly parted, breathing heavily.
"− shall we go out somewhere tomorrow? − you know − to the pub or something? −" He muttered embarrassed that he had wanted something more, that he broke his own rule.
He was relieved when she giggled and smiled, nodding, only to lean in a moment later and kiss him in a drawn-out manner with her soft, puffy lips. He murmured contentedly, stroking her warm, bare buttocks with lazy movements, reciprocating her caress with a loud click of their saliva.
She pulled away from him at last, her hand combing slowly through his short hair making a pleasant shiver run along his spine.
"− why not −"
349 notes · View notes
missgryffin · 1 year
Note
i want to know who your marauders/lily fan casts are! icb ppl are still fancasting aaron taylor johnson as james in the year 2023
Hahahaha oh my. Like I get that he had his "right place, right time" moment with 2010s fandom because of that one clip from Nowhere Boy, but...he is not James 😂
That being said, I don't actually have concrete fan casts for the marauders. It's way easier for me to give immediate "no's" to fan casts than it is for me to feel a "yes." And I think (and maybe this is true for a lot of people who have grown up with the series and been in/around fandom for many years) that's because I have very strong images of these characters and this world in my mind, which were largely shaped by the original HP illustrations and years of fan art.
But! Typical caveats aside, in all my mood boarding and fic banner making and amassing of aesthetic images (you should see my Pinterest 😅), I have come across some people/photos that come really close to how I picture them and give off overall character "vibes" to me, so I'll share those below:
young Lily Evans (she has my most concrete face claims—Madelaine Petsch and Kennedy Claire Walsh are my go-to's for her)
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young Remus Lupin (this pic—and only this pic, ha—of Simon Van Meervenne; the sadness in the eyes gets me every time) || young Peter Pettigrew (this pic/shoot/hair color of Froy Gutierrez—that baby face! those cheeks! post-Hogwarts darkness hasn't warped him yet)
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young Sirius Black (these shots of Paris Brosnan—it's the hair length and grungy/eclectic style for me. give that boy a cigarette and a motorcycle, and we're set)
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young James Potter (he's tough for me to face claim, but I've been into shots of Oussama Guessoum for moodboards lately—it's the messy, windswept hair and face/jaw structure for sure. and it always helps when there's at least one shot with glasses, even if it is a little overly-seductive for JP 🤣)
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33 notes · View notes
sflow-er · 6 months
Text
ˏˋ°*♡➷ get to know me ༊*·˚
I was tagged in this lovely game by @lazybug16 and @bluedalahorse - it was so much fun seeing both your 'moodboards'! 💜
The idea is to pick a favourite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, colour, and hobby and present them as pictures.
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I'll put a list/explanation below, but it's going to be long, so let's do the no-pressure tags first: I think most people have been tagged already, but I can't keep up. So I'm just going to tag a few people whose names I don't think I've seen and apologise if you've already been tagged - or even made a post that I've missed!
@scatteredpiecesofme @silvagrey @groenendaelfic @raincitygirl76 @plantbasedfish @palehottubchild and anyone else who'd like to do this!
Movie: I've got a lot of faves in a lot of genres, but The Princess Bride (1987) has been one of my comfort films since childhood. I never could resist a good fairytale! I kind of wanted to use an ensemble poster to fix the severe lack of Inigo Montoya in this Westley/Buttercup one, but I think this fits the moodboard better, both aesthetically and thematically (because there's a lot of romance on this board).
Character: Again, there are lots of options! But I want to pick 1) a woman, and 2) a longtime favourite, so... Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Either book Lizzie or 1995 BBC Lizzie played by Jennifer Ehle will do. Who doesn't love an intelligent and determined woman who is loyal to her loved ones, speaks her mind, and grows from her mistakes? Oh, and who only warms up to the handsome aristocrat gentleman with a massive estate after he listens to her criticism, makes up for his mistakes, and demonstrates some character growth?
Dolphins: Love them. Happened to see some wild ones in Ireland this summer. Keeping them in captivity for humans' amusement is heinous.
Coffee: The thing about coffee is, if you don't drink it, you often feel like a nuisance when visiting people in my country. Especially older people, who don't necessarily keep tea in the cupboard. So, I learned to drink it in my late teens despite hating it at first, and once my tastebuds had adjusted, I fell in love.
Song: Swing Life Away by Rise Against. A very simple acoustic ballad about love, friendship, and how little you actually need to be happy in life. It's also mine and my spouse's song that was even played at our wedding ceremony (without vocals on guitar, violin, and double bass).
Season: I am very much a four seasons kind of person, but I guess spring might be my favourite.
Book: I've got so many to choose from, but I wanted to pick something queer, so: Torka aldrig tårar utan handskar, Jonas Gardell's trilogy about young love and the AIDS crisis in Sweden. It's absolutely fantastic and absolutely heartbreaking (not a happy read!). It's also been adapted to an excellent three-part TV series that can be found on Youtube with English subs. (Short English trailer, 6-minute Swedish trailer.)
Gardell is also a fitting choice because it was his recommendation on social media that got me to watch Young Royals, and I wouldn't be here on tumblr without YR.
Colour: My favourite colours are red, green, and dark grey. I've been in a green phase lately and it fits this moodboard best.
Hobby: Video games. I've been a PlayStation gamer for well over 20 years. I mainly play adventure and roleplaying games; titles with good storytelling and worldbuilding. Some of my favourites include older Final Fantasy games (up to FFX), the Uncharted series, Life is Strange series, Mass Effect trilogy, The Last of Us Parts I & II, Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, and Telltale's The Walking Dead 'seasons' 1 & 2.
In keeping with the theme, perhaps I should also mention that some of my fave WLW ships are from video games! Ellie/Dina from TLOU: Part 2, Nadine/Chloe from Uncharted: Lost Legacy, and Chloe/Rachel from LiS: Before the Storm (although I do love Max/Chloe in LiS OG too).
Thanks again for the tags, this was fun!
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