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solemnarration · 2 years

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the girl with the books | r.l

pairings: remus lupin x reader (she/her pronouns) genre(s): marauder era, strangers to lovers, fluff, humour summary: james and sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of remus’s affection – return his feelings. word count: 3.0k warning(s): none note: this is a 2022 update of the fic of the same name that i wrote back in 2016! my writing has improved by leaps and bounds and i couldn’t help but edit and improve the fic that a few of you seemed to really love :) i hope you enjoy it if you liked the original, or that you find something new to read

The Hogwarts library was the place where you found the most solace. Even on the few days that the Scottish countryside provided undisturbed sunshine, like today, you preferred to curl up with a book on one of the grand wooden tables. You enjoyed your time in the library; reading fiction or researching different topics that you were curious about. While your friends encouraged you to enjoy the warm day with them, you easily waved them off in favour of the dimly lit library.

Remus Lupin could be found in the library as often as you, except it wasn’t the books that kept him coming back. The sight of you sitting in a corner reading by yourself was enough to draw his attention every few minutes. He couldn’t even help himself, his eyes had no choice in the way they continually found your figure, but he was in no place to complain.

Remus sat with his three best friends at the other end of the library, and they were less than happy to be spending the first sunny day of spring in the library rather than bothering the giant squid in the black lake. Now that the weather was no longer freezing, Sirius and James were desperate to cause some mischief, and Peter was happy to comply.

“What is it that you find so fascinating about a hall full of books?” Sirius inquired, lifting a book up from the table, grimacing at the idea of spending his free time reading, and carelessly dropping it back onto the table.

Remus flinched as the sound resonated throughout the library, capturing your attention as you gave the four friends an inquisitive look. For a moment, Remus held his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from you as you gave him a speck of casual attention. Realising it was just James Potter and his friends messing around, you happily returned to your reading without a second thought.

“It’s not about the books, Padfoot,” Remus snapped quietly, glancing away with reddened cheeks, the heat of your gaze on him still warming his body. “And I didn’t force you to be here,” he reminded.

“Well, no,” Sirius sighed. “But it’s terribly tragic for you to spend the first nice day Hogwarts has seen in-“

“A decade,” James chimed in, exaggerating to help Sirius make a point.

“A decade,” Sirius agreed with a nod. “Inside a hall full of books instead of playing outside with us! As your friend, it’s our duty to convince you to abandon this wretched place and do something more fun.”

“Well said, Padfoot,” James agreed, tall frame spread languidly across three chairs in a makeshift bed. “Dare I say, revolutionary. So, black lake, Moony?”

“I’m perfectly content here, thank you very much,” Remus refused, thoroughly entertained by James and Sirius’s usual dramatics.

“Who could be content in such an oppressive place,” Sirius complained, as if he himself didn’t have good grades and didn’t spend time studying in this very library. “Other than Lily,” he added, recognising the smitten glint in James’s eyes that he got every time he brought her up.

“She’s so responsible, my lovely Lily,” James sighed, pleased with himself. “I’m going to marry that girl, just you wait and see. It’s the only reason I come to the library with her.”

“You come to the library to chat up Lily? No wonder you aren’t dating yet,” Sirius teased. As James and Sirius went back and forth poking fun at each other, Peter pondered Remus’s words.

“If you’re not here for the books, what are you here for?” Peter wondered aloud, causing Sirius and James to glance expectantly at their friend.

Remus rolled his eyes, intending to fabricate a fantastic comeback that would distract his three friends, but even the thought of you caused his stare to drift back to where you were, now getting up to choose a different book to check out of the library.

He loved the way you did that. Even if you finished a book in your time at the library, you always made sure to bring a book with you.

Remus loved the way you did everything, really. He had always liked you, ever since you loaned him a quill when he forgot his during Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even now, it was his favourite class just because it made him think of you.

“Moony?” Sirius waved a hand in front of Remus’s face in an attempt to grab his attention. “Remus, what are you staring at?” he followed Remus’s gaze and saw exactly what he was staring at. “Oh,” he said, finally connecting all the very obvious clues together. “It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Sirius practically giggled with glee.

James’s head snapped in your direction, scrambling to sit up and launch himself next to Sirius in an effort to get a good look at you. This commotion once again drew your attention, leading James and Sirius to act as naturally as they could. They picked up the books stacked in front of them and made a big deal out of reading the text aloud, the act so comical and over-the-top that it couldn’t possibly be convincing.

You grinned to yourself, shaking your head in amusement, and slipped behind a bookshelf to look over the Herbology section. Frank Longbottom had recommended a delightful title on growing Dittany and other healing herbs, and you took the older boy’s recommendations very seriously.

Once you were out of sight, James tossed his book thoughtlessly aside, snatching Remus’s book from his grasp to gain his undivided attention. “Who is that, Moony my dear?” James asked, adjusting his glasses. They had slipped down his nose when he whipped his head around to look at you, and the act had made the boy a little dizzy.

“Who?” Remus asked, knowing that his performance was pitiful and unconvincing, and pretending not to understand regardless of this fact. “What do you mean?”

Frustrated that Remus was lying, and subsequently that he was an absolutely terrible liar, Sirius exclaimed, “The girl you were staring at!”

“Who is that girl? Do you know her?” James asked excitedly, taking a more enthusiastic approach than Sirius in hopes that it would make Remus open up about his crush.

“Girl?” Remus repeated, squinted as if he was giving this conversation a real good thought, before widening his eyes sarcastically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sorry boys.”

James and Sirius shared a look – having a silent conversation that Remus would promptly regret keeping them in the dark about his crush – before rolling their eyes and sighing. They had decided it: they were just going to have to catch you when Remus was gone.

A few hours later, it had darkened considerably since you first entered the library, and once you realised that you had been hauled up in the library for a considerable amount of time, you realised how hungry you were. Perhaps camping out in the library all day without a proper lunch wasn’t your best idea, but at least you knew dinner would be ready soon.

Rising, you stretched your legs before collecting all the books you had flicked through that day and moving to stow them back in their original places on the tall Hogwarts library shelves. Most of them were within a reasonable reach, slotting easily into their previous spots as you strolled happily throughout the library. However, one of the books was at a considerably higher place on the shelf, and you couldn’t put it away even on the tips of your toes.

With a huff of frustration, you stood flat on your feet and were about to reach for your wand when someone took the book from your grasp. “Here,” a voice said from behind you. “Let me help you with that!”

You turned just in time to see Sirius Black easily putting your book away for you, his friend James Potter standing nearby with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. Though James and Sirius were always a ball of energy in the classes you shared with them, the grins they sported today were difficult to identify. Perhaps mischievous would be the best way to describe the perfect simpers on their faces.

“Thanks,” you acknowledged his help with furrowed brows, wondering what Sirius and James could possibly be so ecstatic about. When the two boys simply stared at you, unmoving, you figured that they wanted something from you. “Did you two need something?” you asked, their unwavering smiles growing slightly unnerving.

“Oh!” Sirius seemed to realise that they were staring at you, and how disturbing this might be to a girl they had hardly spoken to. “Right! Yes, actually. We wanted to have a word with you.”

“Okay,” you nodded as if this wasn’t unusual. James and Sirius certainly didn’t seem to think their behaviour was odd, so you figured they were harmless on this particular occasion.

“We were just wondering if you knew Remus,” James explained himself, barely keeping still with excitement. “I mean, you do know him, don’t you?”

You nodded, still weary of where the conversation was leading. Sirius and James were known to be pranksters, and you weren’t sure if you were the next victim of one of their jokes. “Yes, I know Remus,” you confirmed. “He’s your friend, right? I speak to him sometimes when we’re in the library at the same time.” When Sirius and James linked hands and started jumping up and down, utter confusion overwhelmed you. “Uh, why do you ask?”

Noticing your discomfort, James and Sirius stopped jumping in favour of smiling at you. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? We share a few classes but between listening to the Professor and keeping James in check it can be hard to keep up,” Sirius said, his natural charisma making him instantly likeable.

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” James said politely. “Now, this may seem quite blunt, but we want to set you up with our friend Remus,” he said matter-of-factly, followed by an encouraging nod from Sirius.

Your eyes widened at the confession. “Oh,” you said awkwardly. “I’m not going to lie, I had no idea that’s what you were going to say.”

“We have that effect on people,” said James, nodding sympathetically, as if people often had this reaction to the things they said. “So? What do you say? Give our mate Remus a chance?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shook your head, trying to smile politely.

The smiles on Sirius and James’s faces faded. “Why not?” Sirius inquired, tilting his head to the side as he observed your nervous expression. “Do you not like Remus?”

“Why wouldn’t you like Remus?” James added, appalled and affronted at the mere idea of someone not liking their best friend. “You like reading, don’t you? Well, Remus might even have you beat! He’s the world’s biggest bookworm.”

“Incorrigible,” Sirius agreed. “Can’t get him out of this bloody library. And you aren’t helping, either,” he added.

“I’m not?”

“Of course not!” James exclaimed. “You only keep him here even longer than usual! Even on a day as lovely as this.”

“Perfect for wasting time,” sighed Sirius, lamenting the wonderful day outside they had missed out on. “So, how come you don’t like Remus?”

“That’s not it,” you said hurriedly, struggling to get a word in amongst their quick banter. “It’s just,” you sighed. “Why are you asking me this anyway?” you changed the subject, hoping it would take some of the heat off of you.

Luckily for you, it worked. “Well, Remus seems to have developed a crush on you,” James said casually, as if he wasn’t bearing one of his best friends’ deepest secret. Well, second deepest secret. “It’s really quite adorable. All the typical crush symptoms. You know, longing gazes,” James began listing the many qualities he had noticed in Remus during the last few hours. “Romantic, hopeless sighing whenever you’re around, losing focus, refusing to play with his best friends even on a day as perfect as this.”

“The list goes on!” Sirius exclaimed. You had to smile at the two friends, not only were they quite comical, but they seemed to be buzzing with endless energy. “I think it would benefit you to give Remus a chance. He’s rather attractive, our friend.”

“Though, not as attractive as us,” James added, winking to show that he was joking.

“Well we can’t hold everyone to such impossible standards,” Sirius said sympathetically, nodding to himself. “Still, he’s quite attractive! Charming and kind, too. All the things girls like. So are you in?”

“Well,” you stammered, feeling your face burning with embarrassment when you saw how intently Sirius and James were looking at you.

To save you from your answer, the sound of Remus’s footsteps and voice interrupted your sentence. “What are you boys still doing here,” he froze when he came into view, noticing the way Sirius and James had cornered you. “Y/n?” he asked, the picture of you hanging out with his two best friends nothing short of foreign and unfamiliar. Remus sighed in annoyance when he saw Sirius and James exchange guilty faces. “What have these two told you?” he asked you, already dreading your answer.

“We didn’t tell her much,” Sirius said, quick to defend their actions. “We’ve just been… talking,” he added, purposely leaving out the subject matter. James nodded rigorously, smiling innocently at Remus with visible panic in his eyes.

“I’ll talk to you both later,” Remus said to his friend, tone firm and borderline scolding. Then, he faced you with what looked like an apologetic smile. “Do you need help putting that away?” he asked, nudging his head to the last two books in your arms

You smiled, instantly more comfortable now that Remus was there. With a nod, you left Sirius and James behind in favour of putting your books away. “Listen,” Remus began, gently taking your books and putting them on the correct shelf in the Herbology section. “I’m really sorry for whatever Sirius and James said,” he let out a nervous laugh, easily reaching the high shelves thanks to his tall height.

“Don’t be,” you shrugged, charmed by Remus’s very presence. Something about Remus’s gentle spirit contrasted comfortably with Sirius and James’s craziness, and it settled your heart in a wonderful way. “They meant well, I think,” you smiled up at Remus. “Your friends are really nice.”

“I wouldn’t say nice, perhaps deranged is more accurate,” Remus joked, a pleased smile gracing his lips when you laughed. “But they’re pretty great. I can always count on them to say things I’m too scared to say,” he admitted, trailing off into a comfortable silence.

“I don’t know about them being deranged, but they did have some interesting things to say,” you admitted, fully intending to tease Remus once you realised his friends were telling the truth. He really did have a crush on you. “All about crushes, and longing gazes,” you added, grinning when you saw Remus turn slightly pink at your insinuation.

Remus groaned, lifting his hands to cover his face in embarrassment. “Oh Merlin,” he muttered, nervous laughter bubbling from his mouth. “I’m so sorry! If anything they said made you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shook your head. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Stunned by the sheer force of their energy? Definitely. But not uncomfortable. I guess it was just hard to believe,” you admitted. “Still is, really.”

“What, that I fancy you?” Remus asked, uncovering his eyes once you assured him that you weren’t upset. “Why is that hard to believe?”

“I don’t know, you’re… Remus Lupin,” you explained terribly. “You’re a Gryffindor and you’re funny and popular. Your friends didn’t even know what my name was and I’ve been in your class for nearly six years now,” you recalled, shrugging your shoulders good-naturedly.

“Sirius and James hardly remember their own names, I wouldn’t take it personally,” Remus wisecracked, though there was a seriousness in his eyes that made you believe his words. “Besides, the trouble is only just starting!” he added. “Now that they know your name, you won’t be able to get rid of them.”

“Sounds terrifying,” you joked back, grinning.

“There’s no escaping those two,” Remus said dramatically. “I’ve been trying to shake them for six years now, but they don’t seem to care.”

“Maybe I should change my name,” you offered.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Remus burst out, laughing at your banter. You grinned at each other, so absorbed with the other person that you didn’t notice Sirius and James poke their heads around the shelf to eavesdrop on your conversation. “Y/n, do you think,” Remus paused, intimidated by the adorable way in which you turned your head and smiled at him. You were overwhelmingly perfect, and it was really starting to distract the poor boy. “Would you maybe…”

“Would I maybe?” you encouraged.

“Would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me? This upcoming weekend? If you’re not busy that weekend, I mean,” Remus said, barely getting the words out without struggling.

“Oh,” the smile on your face widened almost impossibly so. “I think I might be busy,” Remus’s face dropped, eyes averting to his feet to hide his disappointment. “Changing my name to avoid these two boys I just met. However, their friend is pretty cute, so perhaps I could postpone my plans,” you added quickly, not wanting your joke to go badly.

Remus’s head rose quickly to meet your eyes, a relieved sigh leaving him. “Really?” he asked rhetorically, and before you could confirm your answer, you heard loud cheering come from beside you. Within seconds, James and Sirius leapt out from behind you and tackled Remus into a hug.

“Yeah Remus!”

“That’s our best friend!”

“Our best friend is finally going on a date!”

“Don’t scare her off,” Remus warned, pushing James away as he started peppering kisses across his face. “Seriously, stop it,” he laughed, not meaning a single word.

“No,” Sirius said proudly, pulling you in to join their hug. “Y/n’s just going to have to get used to us.”

You quite liked the sound of that.

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thirstywaffles · 5 months

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Got bored and doodled older Pevensies

#doodley #accidentally stumbled upon narnia fics in ao3 and now i'm here having narnia brainrot again #anyways in this house we let the girls serve and be fashionable bc it's what they deserve #especially susan. susan deserve it all #artists on tumblr #the chronicles of narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #lucy pevensie #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #was using the movies as refs and lmao kinda forgot lucy is blonde in the books #might draw them again bc i really like this design #narnia

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fearandhatred · 4 months

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the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first

panel 8 of panel 2

#fearandhatred #fearandart #me drawing the first panel: girl how do you draw hair. girl how do you draw wings. girl how do you draw the universe #some person out there might be able to guess what the larger thing is (it's based off something else) just based on the colours #also i haven't gotten around to finishing the panels that include having to draw their faces yet. for reasons #don't ever ask me how i draw aziraphale at this point i don't even use references for him just pure luck and a prayer #also “among other things” includes doing two more panels and writing 2k words of a fic and starting the perks of being a wallflower (book)#and also having breakfast #and then going to sleep and waking up at 4pm #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanart #good omens art #art

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wh0relibrarian · 3 months

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eren is very gentle. he hugs you from the back meticulously, shuffling close to you, not to startle- no, to engulf. he wraps his slender arms around your middle like his actions are being recorded. settles his chin in the crook of your neck, made for him, you assume. when he does this you're already out of breath. you know what he's doing, it's your favorite position after all. you were simply watching TV when he decided to stretch his legs out on either side of you, awaiting your body's usual response. it was tactful, like clockwork you were melting into your boyfriend's grasp. his right-hand slips underneath your loose t-shirt, his touch is of a feather. it's sensually ticklish, making you unconsciously giggle until he's sliding down to the waistband of your panties. you were eren's precious puppy, always ready for him. he's such a tease, your heat clenches around nothing as he feels your clit through your panties. tactful, that's what eren yeager was. and attentive, too. no other person listened this closely to your body, no one learned you this well. but eren thrives off being perfect. mainly for you, he couldn't care less about what anyone else thought of him. that's why you always ended up like this, shaking uncontrollably as the speed of eren's wrist gets faster. he knows when you're close, he knows when you're not feeling it anymore, and he knows you love him.

simply by the way your eyes can't leave his, pleading in silence for him to go faster. you love this, and he loves you.

#📕 my books #something to hold the girls over #this is not the eren fic im (not) working on #that one is so long im scared no one will even enjoy it #i digress #eren yeager #eren x black reader #eren x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren aot #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x y/n

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omgeto · 7 months

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i need ur thoughts on nerd geto cause he’s living rent free in my head ever since i read kazushawty’s post abt him 🎤🎤

book worm!geto who is super well read and articulate and can't help but rant and rave about any and all types of fiction, even when you have no clue what he's on about.

"c'mon suguru, I thought you got in the bath with me so you could do me, not read to me," you whine, tapping the book he has in his hand lightly with your foot to get his attention.

"well actually you got in the bath with me," he lifts the book up, his eyes meeting yours as he chuckles. "but listen, I think you'd really like this author."

"fine tell me all about them," you agree, as you inch closer to him, and he lets you rest on his chest, as you fit in between his legs in the water. his eyes light up as he continues to rave about the latest book he's reader, a genre and author you had no interest in but you didn't care as hearing him speak with so much passion really made your day.

#here this is all ive got #actually thats a lie #I have WAY MORE GETO CRUMBS BUT #IVE GOT A TOJI FIC TO WRITE #so um ask for geto crumbs and ill get to them in due time #but geto is a book worm #like a heavy heavy book worm #and I love that for him #xoxo gossip girl 💋#unknown sender — ★

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marquisecubey · 3 months

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wish you were here

#persona 3 #kotone shiomi #akihiko sanada #akiham #Cubey's Art #drew this a while ago and forgot to post it lol #I realized that akihiko…….. probably doesn’t have many pictures of his family #and he’s a shy kid too #one of those people who likely doesn’t love having his picture taken even at the best of times #he probably humoured Kotone when she wanted to goof around in a random shitty photo booth at the local strip mall #an old analog one where the film is all expired and the colours are slightly off #and then he just kind of forgot about it until the girls were cleaning out her room and found the strip in an overdue library book #I wrote about half of that fic………….. maybe I’ll finish it one day……..#hamuko arisato #minako arisato #persona 3 femc #persona 3 fanart #persona 3 portable #p3 #p3 femc #illustration #digital art

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bucktommys · 6 months

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think about all the places we could go

buck/eddie | 2k+ | ao3

“I,” Athena says, slowly, “have a lot of questions.”

“That’s understandable,” Eddie says. “Take your time.”

Athena takes two long, deep breaths. The other officer next to her doesn’t seem to know where to look; Buck sees him desperately pretend to be interested in the one solitary picture Eddie has hanging on his wall, like their family trip to the zoo is pertinent to the matter at hand. “I don’t suppose anyone knows about this,” Athena says.

It’s not a question, but Buck is also currently wang-out in front of his boss’s wife, so he has enough self-preservation not to get caught on semantics, now. “Uh, no ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” says Athena.

“Sorry.”

The other officer is now almost nose-to-nose to the picture with the force of his feigned ignorance. Athena just looks grieved. “Why, then,” she says, “did you get military-grade handcuffs? Were the pink fuzzy ones not macho enough for you?”

Her tone drips with derision. She’s absolutely going home to tell Bobby all about this. “We kept, uh, breaking the pink fuzzy ones,” Eddie admits, and then, “Buck, don’t preen.”

“I’m not preening,” Buck says, probably definitely preening, but like it’s his fault, okay? It’s good to know the bicep curls are working. “Look, we’re two big firefighters. Those flimsy sex store handcuffs weren’t gonna hold us.”

read on ao3!

#my fic #im. so sorry.#this was also not the fic that was meant to be written but alas the taylor book fic is taking her sweet time #it appears the only fic i can write is crackfic. but sometimes its what a girl has to do 🫶#also on a real note these silly little shorter crackfics kinda help with like....idk making ao3 casual again sdgfhsdf #sometimes i can get a bit nervous about posting on hammersmiths bc i get in my head and think everything has to be at least 15k+ and perfec #but sometimes it can be 2k and silly as rocks!!#so anyway hope u enjoy i missed writing fic so BAD

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tunastime · 24 days

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Sunset in the Heart of that Green Valley

started drumming up an au accidentally with some input from the mutuals beloved. told myself it wasn't going anywhere but this so I had to stick as much as I could into just. this. I SWEAR. < lying

Bdubs can't remember a part of his life without Etho--no matter the shape or profession, the danger or lackthereof. It was always Etho, and himself, and this wild, wasted world. Or, Bdubs watches his cows on the farm. Etho joins him on his horseback ride around the perimeter fence.

(4111 words)

It's a long, slow ride a mile from the wire fence and sparse tree line that borders the ranch. It's nothing but cool wind and wiregrass for miles, soft green and brown as the spring starts to roll in. Soon enough the field will be full of baby calves and their healthy mamas, big brown eyes and full stomachs. Horses too—lots of 'em, kind natured but tough, enough to fight you but not enough to bite the hand that feeds 'em. He'll be able to lift a foal into his arms to stand it upright and watch its mother nose his armpit and look at him with those soft brown eyes. For now, BdoubleO takes that long ride along the border, listening to cicadas sing in the trees. That's not the only thing singing though. Besides the breathing of his horse beneath him and the cattle dog that runs ahead, is the soft, mellow voice of his partner, Etho, humming indistinctly.

He has his head turned toward the tree line, eyes scanning listlessly for any sign of movement. Just a couple of weeks ago, they lost a handful of chickens to a fox, a thing neither of them could stand to kill even as they went looking for it. From where he rides next to him, Bdubs can see the holster for his revolver strapped tight to his thigh. He's never actually seen the gun, for what it's worth. Not in action. Not even the smell of gunpowder on Etho's leather work gloves. He's only ever watched his thin, strong, meticulous hands clean the individual parts and put it back together. It makes sense why Etho's focus is so drawn to that tree line. He probably doesn’t want it to happen again.

Bdubs watches the curve of his shoulders under the off-white button-up he's wearing. It's loose at his elbows and under his arms, but from the way he slouches, hat tipped back to cover his neck, it's tight across his back. Bdubs sighs—for a moment, that's the only thing that breaks the silence. Bdubs' longing rings out in the stale air, and a chuckle joins the hum of that wordless melody.

"Somethin' the matter, 'dubs?" Etho says, glancing over. He can just hear him through the scarf tucked around his face, tied behind his neck. His hair is tucked under his hat, tied away nearly the same. Its just his eyes, warm and smiling, eyebrows raised, when he looks over. Bdubs scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"No," he says. "Nothin's the matter. What's it to ya, anyway?"

Etho shrugs. He shuts his eyes for a second when he does. Bdubs can picture the little frown on his face when he does.

"Figured I'd ask," he says cooly. "That was a pretty profound sigh."

"Nothin' for you to worry about," Bdubs gripes. He taps Lacey with his heels and she meanders forward, huffing out through her nose. He hears Etho laugh as he pulls away, and it's only a second before Etho's at his side again. He tugs Bdubs' hat over his eyebrows.

"Don't be like that, 'dubs!" Etho pouts. "You sounded upset."

"Quit teasin' me," Bdubs grumbles, swatting at him with the hand not wrapped around the reigns. Lacey patters to a stop as Bdubs slackens on the reigns, trying to grab Etho's hat. Etho ducks his head.

"Bdubs!" He laughs, pushing his hands away.

"Quit!"

"You quit!"

Bdubs huffs again, shrinking back, then straightens. Etho's turned away from him, all of a sudden. Bdubs goes to speak, but as he does, he hears Etho say something so quiet it's felt more than heard.

It's sunset, he's just realized. The orange light leaks through gaps in the trees, casting gold bars over the wheatgrass and dry dirt. He can see light blue leaking into orange, pink, yellow, blending into white clouds above him. This time, the profound sigh whistles out of Etho's chest. Bdubs bites his tongue. Haloed by the gold light, Etho looks like the type of things only lonely cowboys dream about. The perfect outlaw, or the hardworking ranch hand, or the kindhearted sheriff looking for love. The things you read in dime novels, no matter the flavor of romance. Bdubs feels his heart squeeze, the want pooling in his elbows and the joint of his hips. He won't sigh again, or make any other sound, not as long as Etho watches the sunset.

"Wow," Etho mumbles. His horse snorts. Etho huffs a laugh, reaching just far enough to pet between his ears. "Wow..."

"It's gorgeous," Bdubs says. He'd be lying if he said he was talking about the sunset.

Etho turns back to him after a beat. Bdubs's eyes flick up to his face, tilting his head a little as Etho's soft eyes linger on him. He can see the indistinct scarring up part of his face, near his eye and eyebrow. Tugging off his gloves, Bdubs raises a careful hand up to Etho's face. There, he tucks two fingers in the space between his cheek and the scarf over his face, and tugs it down. Etho doesn't stop him. In fact, he's smiling just so when Bdubs does. He's got nothing to hide, really—the scarf is for the dust, more than anything else. He scrunches his nose as the scarf falls around his neck.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Bdubs says softly. His hand cups Etho's cheek, thumb smoothing over the rough, scarred skin of his left cheek. Fire. They're all healed burns. His thumb dances over them anyway, like he'd never seen them or brushed them or kissed them before. Two long strands of hair frame Etho's face. Here, Bdubs tucks one of them behind his ear, still moving to cradle his face. The look that passes over him makes Bdubs' stomach fold over. He's smiling, wide and soft, and his eyes shut as he leans into Bdubs' palm.

"Hiya, Bdubs," Etho mumbles. His voice hits a low octave as he whispers. Bdubs flushes. Etho's hand falls to Bdubs' hip, both steadying for himself and for Bdubs' balance, thumb pressed into his hipbone as he leans forward into Bdubs' space. Etho's hand comes to tip his hat back as far as it'll go before it knocks from his head, scrunching up his nose as Bdubs' flush grows a little warmer, a little further over his cheeks and ears. He's smiling, though, and so is Etho. Bdubs can't help it—he was just so damn handsome, that stupid cowboy. Damn him. He keeps himself lingering in Etho's space for a beat longer, tracing out the high of his cheek with his thumb. The sun's still setting, warm and orange behind him. He can't even see stars yet.

"Can we stay?" Bdubs asks, sighing out his nose. His eyes flick behind Etho's shoulder for a moment, watching the bars of light through the trees. "Just to watch?"

Etho smiles, his eyes going all soft and round like they do when Bdubs says something he particularly likes. Must've liked that, then. He noses Bdubs' palm just a little, looking up into the sky before settling on Bdubs' face again.

"Sure," Etho mumbles. "Why not? Stars haven't even come out yet."

Bdubs grins, knocking their foreheads together, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest before it leaves him with his exhale. Etho scrunches his nose.

Leaning forward as far as he can, Etho kisses him. His warm, gloved hand fits over the back of his neck, brushing through the close cropped hair there. His lips are chapped from the dusty air, but they're dry and warm and Bdubs feels Etho hum against his mouth. He presses back and up into him, free hand falling to his knee to stabilize himself. Etho pulls in a fast breath through his teeth and kisses him again, firm but gentle. Bdubs shuts his eyes and keeps them shut, feeling Etho's hand curl against the base of his skull, feeling them work in tandem with each other. It's nice and easy and tender in a way that curls up in Bdubs' chest and rests there, calmly. It's sweeter than anything else he knows, or damn near close to it.

He smiles against his lips, dragging his thumb in a slow line across the rippled scar on his cheek. He's so gentle with him, Etho is, as he is with Etho, up until the point of course that they're chasing each other around on foot and on horseback and scrapping in the dirt just to prove a point. But here it's intentional. Bdubs rubs his cheek and that scar so Etho knows he wants to feel it He wants to feel where it starts at the high of his cheekbone and ends just under the low dip of his eye, how the uneven surface gives to smoother skin, how it’s all patches of rough and light. He wants to see that it cuts through his eyelid and eyebrow and that the eyebrow never really grew back and his hearing wasn't always that good in that ear. He wants to. He loves him. To love Etho was to love each thing he called an imperfection.

"I'll be damned, cowboy," he mumbles under his breath. Etho laughs, just a little, from somewhere high in his chest.

"What's that?" he asks, crushing his cheek into the heel of Bdubs' hand. Bdubs shakes his head.

"Nothin', gorgeous."

"Mmh," Etho agrees. Bdubs can tell his face is warm from more than just the desert heat.

"You liked that, mm?" he says. He leans up to kiss Etho just once, sighing out through his nose.

Etho nods, stilted, still flushing as Bdubs draws himself and his hand away. There's a moment that Etho's hand stays warm and solid on his hip and the back of his neck. His dark eyes sweep over him, the clouded vision of his left still trying to focus on Bdubs' face. A soft smile lingers on his face, lifting the edges just enough to form the smile lines Bdubs loves to kiss. They're there more often than not, still fading as Etho's face softens, as he takes care to wash the grime off and soothe his skin with beeswax. They linger for a second before they, and Etho, draw away, settling back on his saddle and sitting up. He stretches, screwing up his expression as Bdubs hears his spine pop.

"Augh," he vocalizes. Bdubs snorts as Lacey does, shuffling her hooves in the dry grass.

"Let's get a move on then, old man," Bdubs teases, reaching for his reins and to prod the soft of Etho's knee. Etho jerks, trotting his horse a step away from Bdubs hands. There, he sticks out his tongue, fixes his hat, and tucks the bandana around his nose again. There's that familiar shape—sheriff to outlaw, the line of Etho's eyes honing his gaze to razor sharp. Bdubs sighs, letting himself laugh, before he jerks his head forward, pushing his hat back onto his head. He prods Lacey with the heels of his boots and she steps forward into a jog.

Above his head, the wink of stars begin to shine in the dull, pale blue sky. He can still see the lick of orange light like flames above the treeline, cascading over the red-grey and sparse green hills, framing Etho in a delicate picture. Bdubs grins, eyes settling on his partner behind him. He sees Etho's eyes squint as he presumably smiles. Nudging a little more, Bdubs brings Lacey up to a trot, and further to a canter as he hears Etho laugh, loud and clear across the planes, behind him.

In the distance, he can see the warm cast of oil lamps they lit before they left. As much as Bdubs' bones crave the man not even a few yards behind him, they ache for the cool halls of their house, warm coffee, and the light he can just barely catch in the rising night.

Later that night, Bdubs scrapes congealed fat out of the cast iron skillet Etho cooked in. His body and stomach are heavy with the meal they’ve just finished, beans and pork and cornmeal grits, the taste of whatever last few seasonings Etho had thrown in still lingering between his teeth. He scrubs the pan in the hot water, feeling out what were nicks in the pan and what was dirt. He’d hate to ruin the seasoning they’d just built up on the pan. He raises it from the soapy water after a moment, giving it a good shake as his eyes track over the dusty-grey surface. Clean as can be. As he finishes, toweling off his hands as he lays the skillet to dry, he turns back to the room behind him.

It’s starting to smell a bit like coffee and a bit like woodfire smoke, the embers of their fireplace and stove fire still filling the room. Etho has tucked himself on the couch, knitted blanket draped over his shoulders and a book open on his folded legs. That was one thing about the desert that Bdubs never got used to—it got cold quickly. The air seeped the heat right out of the ground, right underneath your feet, as soon as the lick of sunshine from the day was gone. Etho had the right idea, curling himself into the smallest spot on their worn couch, blanket drawn tight around him, enough to where only his socked feet poked out. He’d tied his long hair up and away from his face, stark white locks delicately balanced on the top of his head. Bdubs hums as he wanders over.

Etho picks up his head, blinking slowly at him. His gaze seems far away as it pins on him.

“Hi, Etho,” Bdubs says, scrunching up his nose. “You fall asleep on me after dinner?”

“Mm?” Etho questions. He shakes his head. “No, no, never.”

Bdubs snorts. As he stands beside the front of the couch, Etho’s hand comes out, his cold fingers wrapping around Bdubs’ wrist. Bdubs makes a small, startled sound, but lets Etho tug him forward and onto the couch beside him. He was deceptively strong—it was the one thing nobody would guess about him. Well—maybe not the only thing. Etho’s life, much like his own, was so different compared to the docile, almost domestic, ranch life they’d build together. Bdubs sinks into the couch cushions, and not even a beat later, Etho leans his back against his arm. Bdubs’ hum peters into a giggle.

“Y’know,” he starts. “I’m not sure I believe you. I think you might me lyin’ to me, Etho.”

“Mm? About what?”

Bdubs shrugs.

“Dunno, you looked pretty dang tired a second ago.”

Etho shakes his head, leaning back a little further. Bdubs gets the message. He shifts around until his leg hooks under Etho’s arm, until Etho can settle back and rest his head and back against Bdubs’ chest. The book rests on Etho’s shins now, all but forgotten as Etho tips his head back to take a look at Bdubs behind him. He seems satisfied with what he sees, because he shuffles to get comfortable.

“I don’t know about that,” Etho drawls, a smile tugging at his mouth. Bdubs scoffs. He kisses the top of Etho’s head, hands cupping around his ears to hold his head still. He feels that smile tug at his cheeks a little more and nuzzles his head for good measure.

“Alright,” he placates. “I’ll believe you for now.”

Etho hums, satisfied.

“Good.”

Bdubs lets his hands fall to Etho’s shoulders. As Etho reaches to pick up his book from his lap, Bdubs shifts him a bit more, sitting upright. His hands fall to Etho’s upper back, before he starts to shift his hair, unweaving it from where it had balanced atop his head. Etho seems to pick up on his message, sitting forward a bit as Bdubs begins to comb his fingers through Etho’s white hair.

It’s much longer than it’s ever been, Bdubs thinks—it must be. He doesn’t think it’s ever been past his shoulders when they were together before, and definitely not when Etho was a sheriff. He’d never get away with hair past his shoulders. It was bad enough that he got so many nasty scars from scrapes and threats and whatever people threw at him. Bdubs smooths his hand down the back of his neck, feeling out the base of his skull. It’s painful to think of what Etho had to get through to get here. His hair must be a testimony to that, the fine, white-blond strands reaching to just past his shoulderblades. Bdubs is careful as he weaves his hands through, tucking stray strands behind Etho’s ears, combing back from his widow’s peak to the base of his head.

He was a criminal before he was a sheriff—Bdubs remembers that. He remembers it because he was one, too. Pretty damn good. It was hard, though. Hard on Etho, who was just trying to do something with his life, to put his artistry to work, his craftsmanship. When he finally landed a job, the gang was already falling apart. He wasn’t even the first to leave—someone left for a damn sheriff. And Bdubs had laughed, then. He watched Etho set his hat on Bdubs head and felt those now memorized, strong hands squeeze his shoulders.

He found him again when Etho walked past the tiny 3-by-3 cell Bdubs had managed to worm his way into. Wasn’t that a sight for sore eyes? The fine line of Etho’s jaw cuffed by a high collared marshal's uniform, badge and all, hat pulled low over his eyes. He hadn’t meant to lock himself up in there, but as soon as he was out, he promised Etho he’d never go back. And he never did. He sat himself at the strong wooden desk catty-corner to Etho’s and dispensed justice like he’d never done a wrong deed in his life. They were fair, though. Nothing but fair. No blood but on their teeth or nose or throat. No blood on their hands.

Etho sighs warmly as Bdubs starts to braid his hair. He keeps a firm hold on the strands he weaves in and out of each other, working slowly and carefully as he absorbs himself in thought. He was there for a lot of Etho’s life. But he wasn’t there when Etho got his scar. He only saw it afterwards, during that first time he saw him from that cell.

Etho had described it late one night, after all was said and done between them, their bodies pressed so close in the same, small bed in Etho’s home that there wasn’t a molecule of space left. He’d let Bdubs trace the valleys and ridges of the burnt skin, tucked his face into Bdubs neck to breathe out a wet sigh. Coals and fire—not an accident like Bdubs had always presumed. He’d weaseled himself out of their gang of bandits, but it’s not always that the life of bandits leaves you. He’d messed up an order for another group, he’d said, when he finally got a job as a metalsmith. Too few bullets. It was a lie. He’d known from the shape of the man's mouth as he’d spoken it, but his face found the furnace regardless. Hot ash, coals, smoke in the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he’d been really able to see out of that eye. It hurt to read. It was too blurry to focus.

Now, Bdubs knows, Etho focuses and reads just fine. And Bdubs drags his fingers over his skin like it were any other part of him to touch. And touch he did. Hey! He wasn’t ashamed of himself! He spent a good few years loving this man and he was allowed to love him right and true. Whatever Etho wanted, Etho could have. He’d build him a terracotta and tile ranch house, with darkened oak and stained wood floors, a fireplace big enough to hang a kettle in, horses, cows, dogs, cats, wheatfields tall enough to lose himself in. The rolling hills of the valley were endless. They’d find a homestead, a life, friends, family, anywhere they went. And so they went. And they found the ones they’d loved all along just as they thought they would.

Bdubs cards his fingers through the braided hair for a final time, letting it hang loose and wavy around Etho’s shoulders. He instead maps the rise of his spine with his palm, listening to Etho hum and feeling his heartbeat.

“How’s your book?” Bdubs asks softly. Etho nods.

“Good,” he says, just as quiet. “It’s a real tough read, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Etho leans back into his chest, trying to catch a glimpse at the cover. Etho’s tucked the book under his knee, though. He can’t even peek at the type of book it is.

“Mm?” he says. “Is that so?”

“Mmmhm,” Etho drawls. “I’m real deep into some equations that I can’t wrap my head around. It’s this long complicated thing that’s supposed to help determine scale and size of the fractal-izing of light, and how we can use planetary distances to figure it out.”

Bdubs blinks, scoffing.

“Etho,” he hums.

“I’m trying to figure out how this could be relevant for our growing seasons and how I can best predict rainfall in the valley—”

“Etho—”

“And I’m sure Tango will want to know all about it considering he’s making that huge telescope, don’t you think—”

Bdubs thwaps his head laughing.

“Quit!”

Etho laughs, reaching back to grab at Bdubs hands on his head. They swat uselessly at each other for a moment.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you, Etho?” Bdubs grumbles.

“You’re just jealous because I understand math,” Etho jeers. “It has nothing to do with how smart I am.”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Bdubs huffs. “I bet you read the almanac in your spare time!”

Etho gasps, but the gravitas and dramatic turn he does to worm away from Bdubs is enough to hint that he’s doing it for a reason. He scrambles back, tucking his book behind him as he does. Blue cover. Bdubs doesn’t know many books with a blue cover. Maybe it is the almanac after all.

“How dare you insult my knowledge of flowers, Bdubs!” Etho gasps. “I just know all those things.”

“All those things about the regional weather, too?”

Etho nods, trying to hold back a smile. Liar.

“Mhm,” he says. “All of it. I’ve known it since I was a wee little boy, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure,” he placates. “Nothin’ to do with how we just moved here a year and a half ago, no?”

Etho shakes his head.

“Not at all. I’ve known it all my life,” Etho says. He can’t fight the smile this time, or the way he draws out the a of his word, his smile growing with it. He finally cracks enough to giggle and Bdubs swats his knee. Etho sticks his tongue out at him.

“And what’s the almanac say about me?” Bdubs asks, watching Etho shuffle back into his corner, looking comfortable. He tilts his head a little, eyebrows furrowing.

“You?” Etho says. “I don’t know. Nothing—I’ve never read it. I doubt they put people in it.” Then Etho smiles, adding: “I can check my book on 100 facts about B-double-O, though.”

Bdubs startles.

“Your book on what?”

Etho snorts, tipping his head back, laughter bubbling out of him. Bdubs jabs him with his socked foot and Etho curls further into himself, still giggling. Bdubs can’t help but smile, though, watching Etho break into a giggling fit over his stupid comment. He rolls his eyes as he peels himself off the couch and over to their bookshelf. Standing there for a moment, feeling the cold seep slightly into his clothes, Bdubs scans for a book. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for yet, but he’ll know it when he sees it.

In the meantime, he halfway searches for that obviously fake book Etho had mentioned. He snorts, just to himself. A hundred facts, huh?

Plucking one of his well-worn novels from the shelf, Bdubs turns back to the couch. He drops a kiss to the crown of Etho’s head as he passes and Etho is quick enough to pull him down to kiss his cheek. It’s worth it, though, as Bdubs tucks himself back against the other side of the couch and Etho’s legs tangle with his. He loves the stupid smile on Etho’s face too much to care about much else.

#ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #fics #text #mcyt #mcyt fic #help girl how do all my aus start out with ethubs < THIS IS NOT AN AU #NOT ONE THAT I SHOULD CONTINUE THAT IS #green valley au #< haha ignore that #direct shout out to myke and shep who enabled this and also gave several good ideas #like the stupid bdubs book. and the images myke sent. ill and sick i say

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anyaeras · 1 year

Text

Sugar mommy || E.Olsen

Pairing : Sugar!mommy Elizabeth Olsen x y/n

Summary : Y/n was hanging out with their friends late Friday night, they may have got a little too tipsy and was convinced to sign up for a sugar mommies website...

Warning : Smut (at the end) They/them pronouns, AFAB!reader ,Top!Lizzie , Bottom!Reader, Blow!Job , dick!riding , Pet!names, Alcohol. Legal!age-gap

Masterlist My Server Part 2

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It's been one hell of a week, y/n works hard in their classes while attending NYU, they had to without good grades there was really no point of all of this money and effort they worked so hard for, y/n was far from rich and had to work a lot harder than others to get where they are, yet after a long week of work y/n had no problem going out to relax with some friends.

It's now Friday night, y/n was slipping into a cute comfy outfit, they had received a text from one of the closest friends about an hour ago telling them the plans, which to be honest, it was just a normal Friday University kid night, they didn't plan on clubbing or going out, more so a hangout.

Y/n headed out their door, shutting off the lights in their tiny New York apartment before heading to the dorms on campus to meet up with their friend group.

"Hey guys" y/n made their presence known barging into their friends dorm being met with a few of their friends already there getting a movie ready along with some drinks, most likely for another drinking game.

"Hey y/n" Zack yelled from the living space as he sat down the drinks, they met during and English lecture earlier this year, and since then they just have gotten closer, Zack is the kind of friend that fits the "gay best friend" stereotype, but he rolls with it.

"So movie and drinking game again?" Y/n asked knowingly getting a "of course" from Zack as the others piled into the living space, everyone took their spots, obviously, the couples in the group got "ohhh and Eww" from the others as they tried acting cute, while the single friends all got comfortable on their own.

"so we are going to watch, a stupidly, cheesy romance movie, so if you cringe you take a shot, if you laugh you take a shot, if there's a dramatic, love scene, we all take a shot, and if you laugh you take two shots" Zack explained knowing the last one was completely targeted at Y/n, as y/n could laugh at anything. Plus everyone enjoyed tipsy y/n, even y/n enjoyed themself tipsy.

As the movie went on around 3/4 of the way threw they all stopped watching, more so getting into deep conversations with each other, yet what made it better was they were all tipsy and have had a bit to much to drink.

"Y/n of your so sick of working at that cafe why don't you get like a sugar mommy" Zack blurted out more so as a joke, not expecting y/n to give any thought about it.

"You think they have an app for that?" Y/n responded, thinking aloud before checking their phones App Store.

"Fuck- they do"

With that y/n still tipsy as ever downloaded the app, showing it to the group, causing an uprise in laughter from their friends at this silly behavior, but it didn't stop them. Going threw the click signing up process, and creating a profile with some of their better photos they laughed at themself scrolling on the app, showing profiles to their friends, absolutely oblivious to the fact that they accidentally clicked accept on somebody's profile...

The group started to clear out yet y/n stayed the night, being the only one who didn't live in that dorm building already. They chose to spend the night on Zack's couch, which Zack obviously didn't mind as his roommate was out of town.

(The next day)

Waking up y/n was going straight for the pain killers, the drinks they had last night are definitely hitting them this morning.

Looking on their phone y/n noticed a sticky note, placed on top of it with a message from Zack saying they had went out to meet with a family member for brunch.

Going with it, and moving on y/n grabbed their phone seeing a notification from a sugar mommy's app...that's when last nights events came flooding back.

"What the fuck" y/n butter to them self as they open the app to see a notification and a message from someone named Lizzie, their profile is a bit more private than others, but it was still verified and didn't seem extremely sketchy. It was a simple greeting which y/n made the decision to respond with their own greeting back.

The conversation continued between the two of them, and they agreed to meet at a nearby coffeehouse downtown, it was public, so y/n definitely felt safer with the idea yet they definitely need to head back to their apartment and get ready, I mean, if you're going to meet a sugar mommy you should at least look nice.

Getting dressed, and doing their hair wad when nerves were starting to get to y/n thinking about what the worst that could happened, what came to their mind wasn't about meeting a stranger. It was the idea of rejection. Trying to shake off those ideas y/n slipped on some cute dunks which completely match their outfit before heading towards the coffeehouse in town. Not before sending Zack a sarcastic goodbye message like something awful was about to happen.

Walking into the coffeehouse y/n was a bit early sitting down at a table more secluded in the corner scrolling on their phone for a few moments, it wasn't until a women about 5'8 dirty blonde hair sat down across from them did they look up.

"You must be y/n" The women y/n was meeting with stated, getting a nod from the younger one.

"You must be Lizzie" y/n responded feeling shy now by the older women's appearance, she was dressed nice and definitely held herself strong and confidently.

"Yes I am darling, so tell me about yourself" she asked

"Well I'm a student at NYU, I'm single and I'm a hard worker" y/n responded, starting to feel like this is more of an interview than anything.

"I like that, obviously we're here for a reason, I like having a sugar baby, I like having someone I can spoil and make my own" Lizzie got straight to the point, definitely catching y/n off guard for a moment as they regain their thoughts.

"Oh..yes I'm a college student and honestly I signed up for this because me and my friends were being stupid and made jokes but when I saw your profile, I honestly was deeply interested and now we're here" y/n rambled out getting a laugh from the other person there with them.

"Y/n, I'd like to really get to know you, along with helping you out. Your profile, and your personality right now, match exactly what I'm looking for" Lizzie explains as she pulled a contract out from her purse.

"Due to my line of work we have a privacy contract, of course I'll let you read it over, but y/n I really like you, and really hope you will agree to be my sugar baby" Lizzie explained letting y/n have the contract read over.

"My personal number is on the contract. Feel free to message me whenever you'd like or if you need anything, I'd really like to get closer with you" Lizzie said as a goodbye, not leaving room for y/n to say much, as she got up leaving the information with the younger girl.

Y/n packed up their items and took the contract back to their dorm, sitting down on their bed going over it, honestly they were ready to sign they had nothing to lose, but they wanted to have some fun first, texting Lizzie using the number on contract.

"I've read the contract, I'm wondering what you really want with me" y/n was feeling blood sending this message setting their phone down next to them, not expecting Lizzie to answer so fast.

"I won't someone to be mine, we'd be exclusive in a semi-romantic relationship, do you understand? Was the older women's reply. It was straightforward which was becoming common for the strange women.

Y/n wasn't fully sure what they were signing up for, but that picked up a pen and signed the contract sending a photo of it to Lizzie, more so excited to see if the women would give y/n the satisfaction of a reaction.

"So eager are you" was all Elizabeth responded with.

"Only for you" y/n flirted back getting a demanding message back from Elizabeth, asking for the younger ones cash app, sending y/n some pocket money, well $10,000....

The amount caused a Yelp from y/n, they've never received that much money. Y/n knew they were signing up to be a sugar baby, but they didn't expect it to come this soon.

Y/n texted a thank you to Lizzie getting a "you can pay me back" and a winking emoji from the other one, it took a moment for y/n to realize what Lizzie meant, sending a dumb emoji to reply.

Y/n honestly didn't realize how much they wanted this women, her validation was new for y/n. Which it was odd yet it was now 8pm and y/n sent the message to Lizzie

"Come over" the short message was enough for Lizzie to ask for the address having her personal driver take the women to y/n's off campus student apartment. It was much smaller then Lizzie was used to, but Lizzie wanted to see this girl, she was falling for this young college student ready to make y/n her own.

Waking into the apartment, y/n opened the door for Lizzie, yet she was right on it, Lizzie flipped y/n around pinning them to their own door.

"Did you mean it, you signed the contract?" Lizzie asked, and when she got a nod from y/n Lizzie went straight to kissing the younger one. Holding y/n in the kiss till they both were gasping for air.

"I've wanted you sense I saw your profile baby" Lizzie said almost in a whisper to y/n, pulling y/n to the couch in the center of the living space, sitting down both of them were now facing each other.

"Y/n im not sure if you know who I am, I want you I really do, and now you've signed the privacy contract, I want us to continue a sugar mommy relationship, do you understand that, I need your consent and your cooperation" Lizzie said being completely serious with y/n

"Lizzie, I don't care about all that, I want you, your personality is enough to have anyone on their knees for you oh my and don't get me started on that a-" y/n was cut off by lizzie attacking their lips pushing them onto their back now laying on the sofa. Lizzie moved down keeping her control as she left marks on y/n's neck, Lizzie's hands moved under y/n's shirt making sure to check if everything was alright was y/n. Seeing y/n quickly removing her clothes caused Lizzie to smile, seeing y/n all submissive and ready for her was definitely a turn on.

"Y/n im here to help you, in more then just financial ways, I'm gonna help you let go is that okay honey" Lizzie asked bringing her hand up to cup y/n's cheek rubbing her thumb on their face a way of reassurance

Lizzie sat down pulling y/n on top of her as y/n sat down they felt the bulge under Lizzie's nice pants, cause a light whine to fall from y/n's lips.

"Do you think you could take mommy's cock" lizzie asked softly in y/n's ear watching as y/n responded with rapid nods, being ever so eager for the older women.

Lizzie let her hands roam over y/n stripped body reaching in between her folds collecting the younger girls juices, realizing how needy y/n really was. Lizzie patted y/n's thigh to prompt them to stand up, as the women took her turn stripping down to only her lacy bra and the strap she was packing.

"Come here baby" Lizzie guided y/n to slowly sit down on her decent sized cock, letting the smaller one adjust to the size.

"Look at you so good for me, why don't you give me a show princess" Lizzie praised prompting y/n to ride her cock, and that just what y/n did slowly the college student rose up before pushing themself back down on the fake dick, causing a high pitched moan to slip from their lips. Lizzie started to reach out putting her hands on y/n's hip as she met their trust half way, y/n was screaming out moans as the trust got harder, the sound of sex filled the room, lizzie in attempt to bring y/n closer to their climax she started to suck on the younger ones sweet spot, y/n's reaction made Lizzie moan as y/n jolted backing the other part of the strap to hit Lizzie's clit just right now giving the older women more pleasure.

"Fuck y/n you're doing so good for me, you can let go" Lizzie encouraged as she watched y/n getting closer, their bounces we're getting more sloppy and their moans were more squeaky and like that Y/n had reached their orgasm, as they came hard around Lizzie's cock.

"I-I made a mess" Was the firsts thing y/n pointed out, which gave the older women an idea.

"Clean it up then" lizzie said pulling y/n slowly from the cock as y/n was sensitive still from their orgasm, not giving y/n much time as She pushed them down to their knees in front of herself, wrapping her hand into y/n's now messy hair pushing their mouth down on the cock which was still laced in y/n's cum, watching y/n's head bob on the dick was everything to Lizzie, as the pushes rubbed on her own clit making her moan loudly.

The older women now chasing her own climax was pushing y/n down roughly, watching as tears fell from y/n's face, lizzie reached down with her free hand to pull on y/n's tits a bit, just to pull a vibrating moan from the younger one, yet as y/n continued Lizzie kept getting closer finally snapping as she came herself with a loud groan.

After a moment, lizzie released her hold on y/n standing up to discard the strap she was wearing before laying back on the sofa, pulling y/n into her lap keeping the college student close to her.

"I think this arrangement will work out just fine" Lizzie muttered as she watched y/n slowly drifting off.

....PART TWO?

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A/N - it seems the reader doesn't really know who Lizzie is yet, i'm quite excited to take the story into more depth.

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soup-bender · 2 months

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I don’t have a single idea how to Art properly but this thing pulled me out of blank page syndrome and came at a too great cost not to share (i took about 3 sips of watercolor paint on accident)

Anyway this is just a colorful splotch of colors based on this fic by mastermind @lespetitesmortsde that you should totally read or re read ⏬

some process shit under the cut because i felt fancy

Started with just a little dumb sketch of them having a chhhhleepover but then I was like hm.

Decided to line art it and started a digital draft but then my pc died so thats for later

Cleaner version of final imagen alt with no background. Anyway, kisses on the left buttcheek and all.

#please someone peep the book #critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #critical role fanart #imodna art #critical role art #pate de rolo #this is a love letter for the fic #let the girl rant

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esther-dot · 4 months

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[I posted a list of SEASON 6 AUS before but these are book verse]

the cold inside our bones 2k @xylodemon (just have to point out that this was posted in 2012)

The Wall is no place for a woman, but Jon looks at Sansa's gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and knows he will not send her away.

we're a different kind of same 3k by @jonsaslove

"I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will” Or; Sansa flees the Vale. Jon retakes Winterfell. When they meet again, they are changed.

Varg-hamr/Wolf-skin 1k by @cappymightwrite

hamr: the ‘shell’ or ‘shape’ of a person — the physical body, a state that can alter. hugr: what a person really is — the absolute essence, that which can leave the hamr behind. (Or, Jon in the body of Ghost, coming across a girl in grey fleeing north, along the east side of Long Lake...)

Pearls of Water ficlet by fedonciadale

Someone wakes up in Castle Black.

Saw You In The Snow 1k by @theemberalchemist

Sansa used the last of her strength to crawl to the foot of the tree, placing her head on its roots like she would lay on her mother's lap lifetimes ago. She could die here, perhaps, in the halo and ghost of her mother's warmth. Her mind drifting to gentle hands pressing against her head, tucking her hair back, humming a sweet song Sansa knew all the words to.

tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme 1k by @hoaryoldbitch

Satin averts his eyes and all around her bodies shift and uncomfortable looks are exchanged. Something akin to fear grips her and automatically she reaches out. Ghost is right there beside her. She wraps her arms around him and buries her fingers in his fur, kissing the top of his head. A buzzing of whispers and hisses arises around her, but one man bursts into a loud and booming laugh. He's tall and burly with reddish hair and a rusty beard. "Is this the beast you've all been afraid of? The pretty little lady tamed the ferocious wolf with a touch of her hand," he snorts, before walking toward Sansa in long strides. Brienne tenses up beside her. "I'll take ye to Lord Snow, lass."

In the darkest night, a song so sweet 2k

The Lord Commander stood atop the Wall and watched as the girl in grey came riding north, her army at her back.

old timber to new fires 27k by @setnet

When Alayne Stone hears word of the marriage of Arya Stark to the Bastard of the Dreadfort, it prompts her to leave the dubious safety of the Vale and set out on a dangerous journey north to Sansa Stark's homeland and her last remaining relative. But home is not safe. Winterfell is burned and broken, the Baratheon King and the Northern Lords are fighting to influence the future of the realm, the dead are stirring... and the old gods of the North are not half gods, worshipped in wine and flowers; they require blood.

And From the Ruins 15k by @thewolvescalledmehome

After awaking, Jon Snow's sole focus is trying to get his sister back. Alayne Stone is trying to survive the Vale. After an accident, she's forced to flee.

Stay With Me 5k

As her eyes shut, probably forever, Sansa Stark thought of one last thing: Jon. Then everything went pitch black.

now we're dead roses 22k

From Ghost’s eyes, he saw a lone, grey horse racing south. On the back of the courser mounted a girl. He could hear her breaths come out in little hitches and gasps as she grasped with all her might to the reins. Ghost chased after her, sprinting fast and nimble on his feet. She was a delicate little thing. Like a breeze could throw her off the horse. Her back shook as she stifled her sobs. Ghost followed on the horse’s rear, eyes sharp on the hooded figure. She must have sensed him behind her because she turned around and suddenly-- Jon woke up with an impossible name on his tongue.

a wind with a wolf's head 13k, WIP by @branwendaughterofllyr

The cold numbed everything. From her nose, to her fingers, to the breath in her lungs, the cold froze and stiffened. Sansa shoved her cloak up around her face and tucked her free hand under her arm. The grey cloth billowed and faded into the darkening twilight as the wind tore at her. Somewhere, a wolf howled, but Sansa was not sure if it was in her mind or not. A ghost wolf, she told herself and pressed on.

Art: The Girl in Grey and Jon's Resurrection by @palominojacoby, The Girl in Grey by @jonsawilldanceanon, The Girl in Grey by @thetullystark , The Girl in Grey by @ozzy698 , The Girl in Grey by @cute-poison20102014, Jonsa Reunion by knightmarescape, Forehead Kiss by colleendoodle, Jonsa Hug by CristianaLeone, Forehead Kiss by rosenroot

PRE CANON - WESTERN - REGENCY - FAIRYTALE - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

#jonsa #jonsa fic #book verse #the girl in grey #dot fic list #I didn’t include Jon/Alayne fics on here because I hope to eventually make a separate list for those

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lyrakanefanatic · 4 months

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i wonder if this is how new inheritance games fans who have only read the first trilogy feel when everybody won’t stop talking about “phone girl” (i’m everybody)

#I know phone girl was in the books and not in a fic but the way she was mentioned like twice #she might as well have been made up 💀#phone girl #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu

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zeziliazink · 11 months

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Fanfic Classics, batch 5 (Drarry, hot edition)

More Serious Literary Work Book Covers, with a heat theme. Endless days, outdoor soirées, warm spring rain, and hot sweat summer! Sun-drenched shoulders and cautious optimism! Or they just feel sort of lazy and flower-bloomy to me.

Grab a cold drink in a smooth glass before reading on the porch.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose

Beekeeping by khalulu

Wild (orphaned work)

Even the Night by @tackytigerfic

Of Wands and Trees by Omi_Ohmy

Pages of You by by @wolfpants

Timeshare by @astolat

Sweet Creature by bribitribbit (@whineosaur)

This Summer by Saras_Girl

Sun Stroke by @peachpety

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, explanation of what I mean by "classics." Art credits below.

In order:

"Summer Evening on the Porch," by Konstanin Korovin, 1922

"Abstract Painting" by Vanessa Bell, 1914

"Femme dans un jardin" by Frederick Carl Frieseke, 1912

"Accent on rose" by Wassily Kandinsky, 1926

"Landscape at Fontainebleau Forest," by Abbott Handerson Thayer, 1876

"The Artist's Letter Rack," by William Michael Harnett, 1879

"The Swan (No. 16)," by Hilma af Klint, 1914-1915

"Shepherd and Sheep at Vlaici," by Nicolae Darascu, 1912

"Promenade," by August Macke, 1913

"Etretat, Cliff of d`Aval, Sunset," by Claude Monet, 1885

#drarry #drarry fic rec #drarry fanfic #drarry book cover #my art #moonflowerrose #khalulu #tackytigerfic #omi_ohmy #wolfpants #astolat #bribitribbit #saras_girl #peachpety #saras girl

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aemondseyepatch · 1 month

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"An Atreides daughter could've been wed to a Harkonnen heir and sealed the breach."

Chapter 3 — Dune (Dune Chronicles #1) by Frank Herbert

#a friend sent me a girl!paul x feyd fic and now i cant get it out of my mind #after my finals i'll try make a video edit and post it on tiktok :P #Fancast: Raffey Cassidy as girl!Paul Atreides #another fancast is natalia dyer and millie brady #genderbent paul atreides #girl!paul atreides #paul atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #frank herbert #dune book #fancast #paul atreides x feyd rautha

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latibvles · 3 months

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“a real tough cookie with the whiskey breath.”

oh blind dates oc fest my beloved how i missed you. to the surprise of no one, because i cannot be quiet about anything ever : a MOTA OC this time around. i'm sure this bar probably has a name to be found somewhere on the internet, but until I come across it [ big cartoony shrug ]. anyways, here's Genevieve Laurent, or Gen, if you're friendly. @blind-dates-fest ♡

Tom’s is only a fifteen minute bike ride away. The pay is good, she gets to keep all her tips, and her boss, for lack of a better term — downright adores her.

That’s never been the reason why she’s stuck with it all this time, though. There were better paying jobs in equal distance, and if she really, really wanted to, she thinks she’d do a pretty okay job packing parachutes or something of a similar vein. Respectable work, her mother would call it, which was secret code for: work that will keep you out of trouble, and possibly off the street before midnight. But that was really what it came down to: whether Genevieve wanted to do it. And for all the respect she had for those women, she knew that wasn’t the thing that called to her — not like it did to Claire, who was now off in London with the best and brightest, working in the Foreign Office.

Whatever that meant.

Much more glamorous than Genevieve’s own station, and she’s fairly certain none of their mother’s letters are imploring Claire to quit anytime soon. She was almost apologetic, in a way, that she couldn’t entice her family with letters filled with omissions, with work so secret she could hardly speak of it — but the beer wouldn’t pour itself and somebody had to do it after all those hours in flight.

“Thought you were leaving me out to dry tonight, sweetheart,” There’s a solid hand gripping her shoulder and squeezing, and Tom gives her a smile that’s all crows feet and genuine appreciation. Of course, the place wasn’t actually called Tom’s — but the sign was so faded that she and the other girls just tended to refer to it by the name of their esteemed publican. Genevieve returns the smile.

“And miss out on all this? Wouldn’t dream of it.” As if to accent her point, there’s a wave of hoots and hollering from the floor beyond the bar — no doubt from a bet won or a game of darts coming to its speedy conclusion. The song of the end of the work day. He gives her shoulder a shake, then lets go.

“Do me a favor and take those whiskeys to the table in the back? I think Elsie’s got caught up out there,” she follows his gaze to one of the other girls on shift —Elsie’s smile is easy and the tray on the table is empty, but she’s chatting up a storm at a table of men in brown uniforms. And Genevieve can’t exactly blame her, because while they knew practically every member of the RAF who came in and out on their days off, Americans were a sight to behold. Which is probably why Tom is sending her to the table in the back, with the hopes that she’ll be speedy.

“Yessir,” Genevieve hums, taking the tray of glasses with little fuss, making her way across the bustling floor with practiced hustle.

It’s not the pay that keeps her here, or the warmth of her boss. Not even the fact that she could do every job in this place, if she had to.

Genevieve had a penchant for poking her nose into places for the thrill of it — and there really was no thrill quite like conversation with people who had time to kill and liquor in their systems.

She recognizes the RAF officer at the table: David Griffiths, who Claire knew better than Genevieve did. She’d laughed when Claire told her he joined the RAF, and as an officer, no less. He’d been meek before the war, to put it lightly — maybe that slate-colored uniform and dark blue tie gave him the confidence he once lacked, she didn’t know. And then a couple regulars from around town. So the one in a brown uniform as opposed to their English blue sticks out like a sore thumb, and her curiosity is piqued in spite of David’s attempt to draw her attention with his smile alone.

“Thought old Tom was keeping you in the back tonight.”

“You know, it’s much easier to simply say you missed me, Griffiths,” she hums, leaning over to set down the tray. “Whiskeys for the table, yeah?” David clears his throat and makes a show of adjusting his cuffs, flaunting the new insignia adorning his sleeve as he had for every promotion prior. Genevieve straightens out, wraps her arm around his shoulder to pick off a stray thread.

“Captain Griffiths, congratulations,” Genevieve acknowledges just for the sake of him, then diverts her attention to look over the table, eyes settling on the new face staring right back at her. His dark hair curls over his forehead, with a straight nose and a pretty pair of lips — the wings on his jacket are catching lamplight. The smile on his face is what’s got her the most curious. “And who’ve you brought to cause trouble in Tom’s respectable place of business?”

The smile grows, the stranger leans back in his seat.

“No trouble over here ma’am, not unless you hate singin’.” His voice is deep and gravelly and, well, very American. His tone goes up at the end of the sentence, like it’s a question she’s meant to answer, and Genevieve wonders if it still counts as a bait when she can recognize it for what it is. She raises her brows, David’s hand curls around her wrist loosely as if to remind her that he’s there.

“Only if it’s bad.”

“Best keep your mouth shut then, Major, wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” around them, the other men chuckle at David’s quip — Genevieve pulls her wrist from his barely-there grasp as the Major raises his glass to his lips, before waving a hand dismissively on the swallow.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m like a canary over here.” He draws out each syllable, his smile only growing. She doesn’t believe him for a second.

“Well, Major, make sure not to shatter any glasses with your tunes and you’ll have soothed all my worries,” He chuckles at that, sitting back in the chair and Genevieve looks him up and down rather shamelessly before patting Griffiths’ shoulder. “Enjoy your evening, boys.”

Genevieve knows the feeling well — that sensation of eyes tracking her every movement as she walks away. She’d call it a sixth sense, the way she can make the distinction between the slighted nature of Griffiths’ staring as opposed to the more welcome lingering look of the Major, who’s name she’d surely get by the end of the night. If Claire were here, she’d probably laugh, then apologize to Griffiths for her little sister’s fleeting attention span, accompanied with some remark about how Genevieve had a penchant for things shiny and new. Genevieve would beg to differ and say it was more like she had a penchant for the things she didn’t understand.

And so what if she liked the staring, and leaving the air more charged than she’d found it?

Regardless of the interaction, the night wears on, and so long as the taps are flowing Genevieve is busy enough to keep from staring at the back table for too long. At some point, they stand up and make their way toward the dartboard (and Elsie with them, who shoots her a wink from across the room that has her laughing and Tom groaning from their spots behind the bar). Luckily, she’s only gone for maybe fifteen minutes — and she comes back with orders for Tom, before scurrying over and leaning forward on the bar.

“Better straighten up over there, Genny,” Elsie leans forward further to tuck one of Genevieve’s stray hairs behind her ear.

“Back from your mission so soon?”

“Well I had to make sure the prize was in place.” Genevieve raises an inquisitive brow.

“And that means..?”

“It means—” Elsie is effectively cut off by another round of hollering, and Genevieve knows the grin on the other girl’s face all too well. Elsie turns around and she follows the girl’s eyes to several things. One, Griffiths walking out of the pub, two, Major Canary laughing as he makes his way over and three, a conglomerate of Irishmen clapping his shoulders and shaking them in congratulations. “Well now we know who the winner is. Good luck!”

Before Genevieve can get a word in, Elsie’s scurrying back over to Tom on the other end of the bar to grab the drinks he’s lined up. She turns her back to the floor, but still hears a heavy exhale as someone takes a seat behind her. Then she tilts her head to look, and makes little attempt to withhold her smile as the dots connect fairly quickly in her head.

“Major Canary,” Genevieve hums in greeting. “Am I getting you anything?”

“Whiskey’s fine,” He looks around, like he’s taking a survey of the room, then turns to rest both elbows on the polished wood as she grabs one of the glasses that’s already dried. “Think you got me in trouble with your boyfriend back there,” he laments with a grin, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Who, me?” Genevieve slides the glass along the countertop. “You might have the wrong girl, sir.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” He takes that tone again — so clearly baiting her and Genevieve is, admittedly, a little too eager to take what he’s giving this time.

“Well for one, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hums, holding up the pointer finger, and then her middle one, “And two, I’m willing to wager it was the dart game that got you in trouble, Major.” She slides the glass over the countertop, and he takes it. He’s closer now than he was at the table — she can finally make out that his eyes are blue, like the RAF uniforms.

“Yeah? How much are you willing to bet?”

“Well, how much did you earn in your game? Must’ve been a hefty sum for the Captain to walk out like that.” Genevieve leans forward on the bar now, tilting her head as she looks at him, already knowing the answer. His eyes flit over her face and down the length of her neck, following the curve of her shape before the bar cuts off his vantage point, then he goes back to returning her stare. He brings the glass to his lips, then licks off the excess before he opens his mouth again.

“A shot with the pretty girl serving drinks tonight? Pretty priceless if you ask me.”

“Well that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” Genevieve remarks with an airy laugh.

“But it made you laugh. Must be doing something right.” He counters, and she laughs again with a roll of her eyes. “See? Just did it again.” Genevieve shakes her head slightly.

“Well if my company’s so priceless why haven’t you asked my name yet? Bragging rights and all that.” It’s hardly the bait of their earlier conversation — but it’s something, and she wonders if he recognizes it for what it is, like she had at the table. He finishes off the glass, pushing it back to her with his fingertips and holding her gaze all-the-while.

“Well my bragging was gonna be making you laugh ‘till your boss throws me out, but I should probably get the name so I know who to ask for next time, right?” She takes his glass, and moves to fill it again — feeling both like the belle of a ball and like one of those wood logs in a fireplace crumbling into charcoals, giving off sparks. Somewhere in the back of her head, Claire is screaming at her to stop dancing so close to cliffsides before she takes a tumble she’ll regret, but right now she doesn’t feel any ground giving way beneath her feet.

“Genevieve. Gen, if you’re friendly.” She hums out, taking her time on his refill with the express purpose of keeping him there a little longer. The laugh he lets out is breathy, almost disbelieving, and she looks back up at him through her lashes. “Your turn, or should I just keep calling you Major Canary?”

“My turn, she says,” he mutters, probably more to himself than her even if she can hear it. She passes the glass back over. “Well if we’re being friendly it’s Bucky. Egan.” He exaggerates it — the word friendly, but Genevieve’s really hanging on the ‘if’. She feels almost like a kid picking apart words to prove her point. She should’ve been a lawyer. ‘If’ meant she had options, and maybe she feels a little prideful; to know she has control of where this thing goes. It’s a rush. The kind she wouldn’t get packing parachutes or up in an office. The kind only another person could give her.

The ground gives a little beneath her feet, but Genevieve is undeterred.

“But I take it you’re aiming for a little more than that, is that right, Bucky?”

The smug grin on his face is as much of an answer as any.

And it excites her down to her bones.

#masters of the air #john egan x ofc #masters of the air oc #mota fic #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #blind dates oc fest 2024 #. genevieve laurent #...yes there's France lore #I’ve got lady pilots existing in my docs Now but By God Tom’s Girls stole my keys. I just think they’re neat #took a little inspo from a historical fiction book I read for Claire admittedly #shoutout bletchley park codebreakers #this one for all my little sisters with academically gifted big sisters [ raises hand ]

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