#forcing myself to at least try backgrounds
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We'll Be Alright
Paring: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: Angst with no comfort, closeted Paige, breakups, edited and written at 3 a.m.
Words: 1,403
A/n: This is my first fic so feel free to critique the hell out of it! (The woman is making me write, send help.)
Summary: "I just can’t be seen with you for a while… I can’t be with you for a while," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. I watched as her face crumpled under the weight of her confession. She turned away, avoiding my gaze, and in that moment, I felt my world tilt on its axis.
‘I’ve heard her wrong,’ that’s my first reaction, the only rational explanation. ‘I had to have heard her wrong.’ And I almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, because there’s no way this is happening; it’s not possible. Out of everything I’ve learned in this life, only one thing remains steadfast: Paige won’t leave me, not like this. We've been each other's anchors for too long, willingly entwined each other into every facet of our lives—school, family, friends, work; everything leads back to Paige. My life isn’t mine anymore, it’s ours. You can’t just walk away from that; ‘she won’t walk away from that.’
She holds all of me within her grasp. I've given her everything, laid my heart bare at her feet and begged her to take it. I’m not sure I can even remember how to function without her anymore, and I really don’t want to have to re-learn.
At this, I have to take a breath - ‘she isn’t leaving you’—unclenching my fists, the pain of my nails digging into my palms fades into the background and I try to slow my pounding heart.
‘She isn’t doing this,’ ‘you heard her wrong, just ask her to repeat herself, she isn’t doing this’—I repeat like a mantra. I feel myself begin to open my mouth, but in my panic, I seem to have forgotten what to do next, how to speak, what to say.
I don’t have to though; as I watch her bury her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, I know I've heard her correctly.
Time slows to a stop as I stare at her, the very fabric of our shared existence unraveling before my eyes. She’s trembling, her form completely hunched over, elbows resting heavily on her knees. I strain to hear the faintest sound of her sobs, unsure if it's her or my own heartbeat drowning out the world around me. Everything goes numb, or at least I think I’m going numb; I might be dying. 'I think I’m dying.’
One week earlier:
KK has perched her phone precariously above her stove, and she’s behind me. Her latest brainchild? A cooking show live, which is apparently just me awkwardly fumbling through a recipe in front of thousands of people, while KK assumes the role of my enthusiastic (if somewhat reckless) sous chef. She’s so busy scaring me half to death with her questionable knife skills and insistence upon dancing around the kitchen, requiring me to guard her away from the open flame and from knocking over everything on her chopping board (again), that we both miss Paige getting home.
I’m reaching to taste, and KK is preemptively handing me the salt as a familiar hand snakes it’s way around my waist. Paige leans over me to take my spoon in her mouth. "Tastes good, babe," she murmurs. I’m frozen under her touch, staring at our reflection on the livestream when KK bursts out in fake laughter. "Damn, all you gotta do to get Paige is know how to cook.” I laugh too, now catching on to KK’s cover story, turning to Paige. "For real, Bueckers, if you wanted some all you had to do was ask. Don’t waste your rizz on me," I joke, removing her hands from my waist. Her brow is furrowed, and a confused look passes over her face briefly until she looks up and sees the livestream, which is now blowing up. She steps away from me quickly and forces out a laugh before she slips out of frame and disappears from view. KK wraps the live up soon after this, and I rush after Paige, but the damage is done.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobs, wrenching me back into this harsh reality. “P?” I manage to choke out as I reach my arms out for her. I’m pretty sure I can feel my heart fall out of my chest as she pulls away, her head shaking in silent anguish.
But she doesn’t leave yet. Instead, she’s kneeling by my bedside, where I’ve seen her praying so many nights before. But she’s not talking to her god now; she’s looking up at me, speaking to me, clutching my hands in hers. “I love you, I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and yet even with her declaration of love, all I can do is shake my head in mute denial. “I can’t do it,” she gasps, desperation tingeing her words. “I can’t tell everyone yet. I’m not ready, and I can’t put you through this. It’s not fair to you.” I flinch away from her now, curling up into the corner of my bed.
“I’m so sorry.”
Even as I cower away, her outstretched hand reaches for me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Summoning what little strength remained within me, I unfurl myself from the corner of my bed and reach for her again, ‘maybe for the last time.’ I brushed away the tears that stained her cheeks, my heart aching. “What does me not being seen with you mean?" My voice tinged with a desperation I could scarcely contain. Paige finally looks up at me; her gaze met mine, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I can’t handle the rumors anymore," she cries, her words a plea for understanding. "I'm so sorry" It’s my turn to look away now, unable to bear the weight of her gaze any longer, staring into my lap. And for the first time in my life, I shake my head and lie to Paige Bueckers, gently shushing her I reach for her hand, “everything's going to be okay, we'll be alright.”
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#kk arnold#womens basketball#angst#paige bueckers fic#paige buckets#wcbb#final four
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Detail shot and full image. Loosely inspired by this fic (edited with correct link)
#overwatch#overwatch2#ow2#doodle#zenyatta#tekhartha zenyatta#genji shimada#mondatta#sort of#forcing myself to at least try backgrounds#fanart
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How about Tony Stark, 🎠– Fancy in a carousel way? 😄
:3c i really hoped someone would pick this haha thank you
ask game here
#kamaeteDRAWS#tony stark#tony stark fanart#ask meme#im trying to force myself to do backgrounds#at least /some/ kind of graphic element in the bg#instead of a blank canvas#it is sooooooo hard lmao
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while i do love that i decided to write the EOTA trilogy w/ different POVs for each book, bc yea it's just the same 6 ppl working together regardless but it's important to see all of their POVs, it does also leave a lot unexplored for the previous POVs each time. like these things still happen and i DO get to explore them, its just different when it's no longer the POV
#this is namely me thinking about kirsens ptsd + depression and recovery#like book one puts her on the path to recovery and you get to see from her POV as she gets to that point#then she's still a hugely integral character in books 2 & 3 you just arent seeing her thoughts/POV#and her recovery is still taking steps forward AND back over those two books#which the reader will see bc obvs she's still a part of the main trio saving the world#its just. it does make me lowkey sad that the reader wont see her thoughts as she makes those steps#like I'LL know and i Could do short stories on some of the scenes in particular i know will be going on in the background#but its not quite the same for the reader#i dont think i'll ever consider changing my POV plans tho#bc each book has 2 POVs of ppl taking different paths to reach the same theme/moral#its as important to see jashe/novas and isaac/demis POVs as it is to see kirs/luces#its just a shame i wont have the time/ability to write each characters ENTIRE journey thru these morals/themes#lowkey tho i might start a kirsen short story tonight if this mood continues to plague me#i have Thoughts about kirsen. and also kind of myself bc boy howdy does she have a lot of me in her#and i want to explore at least two scenes in particular that happen in the few month interim between book 1 and 2#ones that get mentioned/remembered by jashe but also i just really want to ACTUALLY write kirsens POV of those moments#its one thing to have jashe worrying over her cousin while theyre forced to save the world#its another to see kirsen having those struggles herself and trying to hide them or work thru them w luce
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Safety First
(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader
Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it.
Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌
A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.
Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.
Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.
“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.
“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.
The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.
“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.
“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“
“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”
You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”
“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.
__________________
Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.
His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.
“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.
Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.
He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.
Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.
The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.
“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.
“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”
He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.
“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”
You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.
“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.
“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“
Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”
“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”
“Understood.” You sniffle once more.
“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.
__________________
You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”
“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”
“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.
“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.
“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”
“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.
As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.
You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.
Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.
But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.
Simon was going to teach you to shoot.
______________
That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.
“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.
“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”
“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.
“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.
__________________
You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.
Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.
With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.
The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.
As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.
“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.
“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”
“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”
“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.
Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.
Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.
“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.
You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.
“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”
“But how did you—? Should I even—?”
“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”
You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”
“Good. Then let’s get after it.”
He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.
“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.
Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”
“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”
Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.
“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”
His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”
You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—
“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”
You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”
“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?
“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.
“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.
It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.
“Alright, she’s loaded now.”
“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”
“Now you point and shoot.”
“At what?”
“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.
“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.
Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.
“Better?”
“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.
With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.
The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…
You’ve miss the target completely.
“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.
“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”
You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.
“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”
“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.
“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”
You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.
“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”
You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.
A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.
This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.
“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.
Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.
“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.
You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”
You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”
And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.
“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.
“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.
“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.
You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.
“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.
You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.
Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.
Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.
Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.
“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.
The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.
“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.
Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.
You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.
“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.
His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.
He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.
You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”
His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.
Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.
Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.
His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.
His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.
“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”
You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.
“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.
“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.
“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.
You nod fervently.
“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.
You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.
“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”
You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.
“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”
Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.
“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”
His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.
“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.
“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.
“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“
“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.
“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.
“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.
You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.
You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.
“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”
You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”
Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Something like that, love.”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” Riley x reader
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EVEN MORE CLARA DOLL DETAILS:
So you know how the Dolls have their own distinctive clothes?
Guess who else has their own distinctive clothes!
That’s right. The multiple Homuras are actually Clara Dolls.
And that’s why ‘Homura’ is smiling.
Here they are! The one with the striped hat is Nekura (Gloominess or Pessimism) and the one with the flower is Mie (Vanity).
Here’s their descriptions from the art book.
[The second one to come was Gloominess. Walking out with a tapping sound, she sneered at Good-for-Nothing. “This is Good-for-Nothing! How very unbecoming.” These dolls are only disciples of Freedom, and are devoted to their lust for it.]
[The tenth to come running is Vanity. She exaggeratedly avoids Good-for-Nothing's head and says a few words. “I wouldn't be able to bear dirtying my cape with that sticky blood!” These dolls make fun of the witch's self-mutilation.]
Good-for-Nothing is Homura, by the way, but the Clara Dolls seem to consider Good-for-Nothing to be good for something after all after she splits Madoka. She turns into the Devil, and the Clara Dolls are stated to be “okay” with the Devil. If the young voices in the trailer belong to the Clara Dolls, then they also call her “Akuma-sama” now. Something like Mistress Devil, implying a sense of respect.
[… if they are not summoned, they will simmer. There are orders they will comply with, and also orders they will disobey. What they are and the witch herself's own magic are not well understood.]
At the end of Rebellion, Homura gave Madoka her ribbon back. She declared that they might become enemies in the end. Honestly, I thought that Homura would try her best to avoid Madoka entirely. The trailer suggested that Homura was meeting Madoka, though. Here’s the answer: it wasn’t Homura herself, but Gloominess, who wants freedom.
Now, I’m not sure how this situation works out. Do Clara Dolls have free will? Are they obeying Homura’s orders? Acting out Homura’s true emotions? Is Homura perhaps directly puppeteering them in order to fulfill her goals, or do they act on their own?
I find it likely that it’s a mix of both: some of them obey her, and some of them will try and fulfill her (probably very conflicting) desires, as familiars usually do. Gloominess is likely part of Homura who wants the freedom to talk to Madoka, for example, but Vanity seems to me like a Clara Doll who is obeying Homura. After all, she still needs magical girls to fight wraiths, at least until she finds a way to wipe them out.
[I'm Vanity (Mie). I'm pushing myself to the limit for someone.] And she is, of course. All of the theatrics, the calls, the organization of magical girls. These are things that Vanity is shown to engage in. All of this is for Madoka.
We see with Gloominess, at least, that she seems to be fulfilling a specific desire: in the background are white spider lilies. Instead of the red spider lilies that mean death, final goodbyes, and lost love, white spider lilies mean a hope for the future and a fresh start. Maybe this really is the first meeting for these two in a while, and she wants to be friends again?
Or maybe, being Gloominess, she wants to warn her about something.
[I'm Gloominess (Nekura). Forcing smiles tires me out.]
Then there’s this Homura.
Nothing about her clothes is very different. She is wearing ribbons as Homura in the wraith universe does, but look closely: the ribbons are different. They have some wavy stripes on them, while Madoka’s ribbons are plain. She does not correspond to any known Clara Doll.
However, there’s mentioned to be a fifteenth Clara Doll that is not yet born: Ai, representing love. This could be her. Is it love for others? Or love for herself? I’m hoping it’s the latter, but very likely it’s love for Madoka and her friends. This would explain why she’s trying to fight Homucifer in the poster, as Homura believes that she’s a danger to everyone else.
How can this be? Well, here’s a few options:
- The Clara Dolls are grown-up familiars. They ate souls, and they became a copy of their witch. This is a process that was explained to us in the original series, where some magical girls are stated to farm familiars by letting them eat people so that they would grow souls/grief seeds.
- The Clara Dolls are not familiars, or wraiths, but instead a secret third thing. “What they are and the witch’s own magic are not well understood”, as said in the Rebellion art book. They could be magical constructs of a different kind, but I do think that this would get into overcomplicated explanations quickly, so I favor the familiar explanation.
- The Clara Dolls could be familiars, but instead of eating souls they’re simply powerful enough to change their shape. Their strength is equal to the strength of a magical girl…. when Homura was a witch, before Homura became something more. It could also be energy from the contracts making them stronger. Maybe it’s me being sentimental, but I don’t like the idea of Homura letting anyone’s soul be nommed on.
Now, before there’s a panic about how they’ll juggle fifteen extra characters, here’s a few thoughts:
- Just because they seem different doesn’t mean they’re actually different. It might be that the Clara Dolls are a way for Homura to present herself. As Vanity, she might show off more, or have dramatic flourishes like her throne and her dress. As Gloominess, it might be that she doesn’t believe that her plans will work, so she tries to do what makes her happy. It’s likely that the Clara Dolls are just extra ways to explore Homura’s character. They’re parts of her soul, after all, and right now she is extremely powerful. She might simply want to keep her true self away from humans.
- They could work like projections. Homura wants more bodies to work with, but she has to filter herself through the Dolls’ personalities. This could result in a lot of juicy character interactions, as the things she tries to keep hidden are closer to the surface.
- Will ‘Ai/Mystery Homura’ fight against Devil Homura? Very likely! How can this be when they’re the same person? Well, who hates Homura more than Homura? That’s right. Nobody. Anyone can fight and argue with their self, it’s just usually not on the level that a reality-warper like Homura can manage.
If this is true, there’s plenty of interesting directions they can take it.
- Because the Clara Dolls have a degree of separation from Homura, they can show other characters things that Homura herself has ignored or locked away. Bad memories, affection for her friends, the resentment she must feel - everything from concern to a cry for help can be plausibly shown through them as the actors.
- Manuke (Stupidity) is specifically more naive/sincere than the others. Maybe interacting with this Doll would show the Quintet that there’s something more going on than a Devil who wants to hurt other people.
- If Ai represents a love for other people, Ai can have a strange character arc where she learns to value Homura/herself, and become self-love.
- On the other hand, Ai can represent self-love from the start, and because Homura looks very fucking unhealthy in the trailer, she only wants to stop her because she’s hurting herself. This option plays into the themes of self-sacrifice and happiness, which I believe to be some of the major themes that they’re going for.
- The poster could be misleading and Ai ends up fighting everyone but Homura. I find this the funniest option.
- Homura can hug herself. It’s possible. In fact, every character can hug Homura 15 different times.
Smiles are a Clara Doll’s default expression. We have yet to see Homura smile for real.
Is this going to get very ambiguous and confusing? Probably. But rewatching for details was the fun part in Rebellion, so I’m looking forward to it!
#walpurgis no kaiten#walpurgisnacht rising#pmmm#homura akemi#madoka magica#puella magi madoka magica#Homura also looks like she’s coughing in that final shot but I can’t find a way to put it in coherently#the Homuras on the tower are too far away for me to look at. sorry.#please don’t start saying things like ‘Ai is SELFLESS LOVE who wants to free Madoka and Homura is ‘SELFISH LOVE who wants to keep Madoka’—#I… disagree. I’d be happy to debate with you but send a message please#pmmm analysis#pmmm rebellion#homucifer#clara dolls#long post
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Kissed by Fire pt 1
Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.
Warnings - rhysand is kind of a dick, signs of depression and PTSD, trauma, implied EDs, kind of poisoning
An - and we begin 💜
Part 2
Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk next to Amelia, his eyes narrowed as the oldest sister stared out the window.
She had been the last to wake up. She was withdrawn from them, constantly sat in the cushioned window ledge and wiping tears from her face.
He had expected more from Amelia. She was supposed to be a rock, a strong influence, yet here she was, mind lost in her grief, in her confusion, her longing for their father. “You need to get up,” he commanded. “You need to stand on your feet and be strong for your sisters. They need you.”
Amelia sighed deeply, that familiar weight of being the oldest pressing down on her shoulders once again.
It felt like carrying the weight of the world. It felt like being forced to sacrifice her own health and happiness for her sisters again.
It reminded her of nights spent in a brothel laid beneath some man she had no interest in for a small amount of coin. It reminded her of hiding the coins with Feyre's earnings so no one would ask questions or ask if she was okay.
“If my adult sisters are making the choice to hide in a room and refuse to eat, how exactly would me going and demanding that of them make a difference?”
Rhysand rolled his eyes, scoffing at the question. “You never cared for them while you all were starving in that cabin,” Amelia flinched at the accusation. “The least you could do is pretend to care now.” She looked away from him as the first night spent in the whorehouse, handing her virginity away to a complete stranger twice her age came forward.
She didn't see Rhysand's face fall, his eyes becoming sympathy as you stood. “Right. I forgot about Feyre's pretty story of how she kept our family afloat.” The true sentence should have been, “I forgot she didn't know,” yet Amelia stuck to her self defense. “I will try. Do not expect me to join you, though.”
Nesta, Elain, and Amelia ate in silence in Amelia's room. If you could call what the three of them did eating.
Nesta pushed the food around. Elain stared out the window. Amelia sat there, shivering despite being the closest to the fire and in heavy wool socks and a sweater provided by the House.
She could feel a chill deep inside of her. Like the Cauldron had left a reminder deep inside of her of what happened. “Have you two been cold since-” she couldnt even finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.
Elain shook her head softly. “No, just. Lost.”
Nesta also shook her head before smiling sadly. “Have you tried to bathe yet?” Amelia paled at the idea. She had several times. Hoping the hot water would melt the ice settling in her veins and bones. “I had the same reaction,” Nesta sad softly.
Elain also nodded, tears streaming down her face, “It's like bathing takes me right back there. I cam feel it burning my skin all over again from how cold it was, I feel myself struggling to breathe, i-” Amelia silenced her younger sister with a hand on hers.
“Don't, little tulip. Don't talk about it unless you're ready to.” Elain leaned into her, closing her eyes as Amelia ran her fingers through her soft hair. “I'm sorry I can't fix this.”
Nesta smiled for the first time in a week. “You aren't a miracle worker, Lia. We don't expect you to fix it.”
Amelia's dreams that night had her transporting to a cabin. It was warm with a soft fire crackling in the background as she looked around. She could hear the voices of two males in another room. One was deep and smooth, although somewhat sarcastic as he spoke to a deep familiar voice. Shadows trailed through Amelia's fingers and the voices stopped. A door opening and footsteps coming towards her.
Amelia shot awake, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to a figure sitting on her bed. Rhysand had his hands holding his nose, his eyes glazed over slightly. “Do you know where you just were?” She shook her head, take a few deep breaths and then the tea he offered her. “I need you to drink that. You followed Azriel on a mission. In your sleep.”
He looked up sighing heavily. “You didn't fully transport your body there. Just your soul and mind. I need you to drink that so you don't do it again.”
Amelia sniffed it, eyes watering at how bitter it smelled. “What is it?”
Rhys looked at her, eyes cold as he distanced himself from what he was asking her to do. “It's faebane. It'll put whatever the fuck the Cauldron did to you to sleep.”
Rhys laid Amelia down, having watched her finish the cup and fall into a drug induced sleep. He sensed Azriel landing at the house and waited.
The Spymaster pushed Amelia's balcony doors open, looking between her and Rhysand. “How? That cabin is heavily warded to protect-”
Rhys held a hand up. “Amren is looking into it. Until we have an answer, we keep her on a low dose faebane to keep her powers locked down and quiet.”
Azriel looked at him, slightly shocked. “So poison her instead of helping her control it? Rhys, we know better than this. Her powers will eat her alive.”
“We will figure it out before than, Azriel.” Rhys looked at Amelia, watching as she shivered. “Did he have any ideas for helping her stay warm?”
Azriel nodded, pulling out a heavy sweater in a cream and another in burgundy, and then a soft fluffy pumpkin colored blanket. They reeked of cinnamon and apples, the fabric was unnaturally warm after having been enchanted. “He says we owe him.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. The snake doesn't do a single thing unless it benefits him.” he took the blanket, thanking Azriel softly before tucking Amelia in and listening as she released a soft content sigh. She snuggled deeply into her new blanket, shivering stopping almost immediately. “Did he say what he wants?” Rhys moved her hair out of her face. Guilt eating him alive as he saw how peaceful she looked in this forced state.
“He'll call us when he's ready.”
Taglist : @justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle
#acotar#eris x oc#eris fic#eris acotar#eris acosf#pro eris vanserra#eris x archeron!oc#eris vanserra fic#eris vanserra x oc#eris vanserra x archeron!oc
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COURT FUCK hoshiumi korai x top amab reader
warnings. public sex, creampie, extremely shameless kourai, exhibitionism, someone took a picture of them going at it in the end. and the biggest one is extremely bad and rushed writing.
A/N. guys i love him so much you don't even know. this is based off adlers hoshiumi because he's so cute. NOT proofread cuz im lazy like that.
minors, fujoshis and blank blogs DNI.
Loud cheering were heard in the background, but it felt like the only sounds you were hearing are skin on skin contact and Kourai's shameless moaning. You tried to remember what even got you here in the first place, but you'd immediately be snapped out of your though when his hole would squeeze, sucking in your cock hungrily, incaging it inside his tight hole.
At this point, you were basically multitasking. Holding his hips in place as you continue to shape his inside into the shape of your cock, as you continue to search in your mind for at least, at least some kind of a lead.
God, of course he had to have such an intoxicating body. Was this on purpose? His milky skin flushed as sweats trickled down, the way you were holding his hips so hard to leave a bruise on his soft flesh. His moans. God, his moans. They echoed through your ears, encouraging you to go harder, faster, leave the Hoshiumi Kourai all knocked up.
Ah. You remembered now. It was after a match against Schweiden Adlers. Ultimately, your team had lost. But Kourai was greedy. He felt like a nice, clean victory over your team wasn't enough for him, no. He wanted more. Something that'd leave him all satisfied—not really. He'd still come crawling back at you, begging on his knees, wanting more, more and more, every hour of the day, 24/7. In different position every time. Oh, you both are in public? Well, they all can watch! He loves the thrill of someone or even multiple people recording him. Waking up next morning in your bed, all sore and nicely bred. He'd check his phone specifically Twitter (now branded to X but I can't bring myself to write it) to see him all over the frontpage, with you absolutely fucking him like a wild animal. But let's put all of that aside for now.
You couldn't tell if people noticed. Both of you were engaging it in a semi-secluded corner of the court. The next round had already kicked off. Maybe Hoshiumi was hoping for the people on the stands to take notice and tear their attention away from the game, onto the both of you. Maybe not and he'd like to keep all this moment all to himself, he thought that nobody deserved to see the lewd moment between the both of you. Selfish.
You relished in the way his ass would jiggle the second your pelvis would make contact with it, the way your cock would disappear in and out of him, releasing lewd wet noises and leaving your cock coated with a brand new glossy wet shine everytime.
You also appreciated the little details, too. You loved seeing his white hair bouncing with every thrusts, the way his eyes would slightly cross when your tip would force to his prostate. The light blush coating his cheeks, the drool that would escape through his lips that was currently biting his lip, dripping down to his chin.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This all felt too fucking good. It was bound to happen. You shot your seed into him, maybe a little too much but was Kourai even complaining? Hell no! It would be unreasonable for him to do so. Your cum felt so warm inside of him, his hole tightening around your shaft like he was trying to milk all cum left in your balls dry-
Click
It sounded like the sound of a camera shutter going on. Whoever that was, they probably acquired a new getting off material.
#DEADMEAT WRITES#hoshiumi kourai#schweiden adlers#haikyuu hoshiumi#haikyuu smut#top male reader#dom reader#dom male reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x male reader#dom gn reader#seme male reader
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Redamancy: Chapter Five
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Curse words (idk about you, but I swear like a sailer - so I apologize in advance bc it’ll be a recurring item)
Notes: The last half of this chapter was one of the first scenes I wrote when I played around with writing this series, these random snippets inspired this whole thing. I’m so glad everyone is enjoying my work!
Word Count: 1930
Series Masterlist
• March 4th, 2005 • Forks HS Cafeteria •
Reader
It’s raining outside again for the umpteenth time this week, forcing myself and my preferred Cullen sibling to sit apart at our respective tables inside as our usual table outside collects rain. I glance at the table the Cullen’s claimed and spot Jasper already watching me so I wave shyly. He returns it with a grin only to receive a shove from Emmett as he no doubt teases Jasper for the action.
“Hey - La Push baby, you and Y/n in?” Eric asks Bella as she drops her bag into the chair next to mine.
“Should I know what that means?” She questions back before I could voice the same inquiry.
“La Push Beach down at the Quileute Rez, we’re all going tomorrow.” Mike explains.
“Yeah, there’s a big swell coming in.” Jessica adds.
Eric pops up from his seat, splaying his hands out like he’s already riding a wave “And I don’t just surf the internet!”
“Eric, you stood up once and it was a foam board.” Jess teases him as Mike mirrors his goofy stance, earning a smack from Tyler at the goofy display.
“But there’s whale-watching too, come with us.” Angela prods us gently with her kind eyes.
“La Push baby, it’s La Push.” Eric tries to make the words sound cooler than they are and I can help but hide a chuckle behind my hands.
“Okay,” glancing at me before I give her a nod, “we’ll go if you stop saying that, okay?” Bella concedes before leaving our table to grab a school lunch, I catch Edward standing from his seat to follow her.
“Seriously dude, it’s creepy man.” Mike teases Eric. Their conversation fades into the background as I lean back and open my book while I munch on my carrots.
• March 5th, 2005 • La Push Beach, Quileute Reservation •
Reader
“I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.” Eric says worriedly as he, Mike, and Jessica finish pulling on their wetsuits.
“We drove all the way out here, I’m at least paddling out.” Jess tells the boys. She’s stronger than I am, because there isn’t any chance I’d subject myself to the freezing water willingly.
“So,” Angela starts, “I keep thinking that Eric’s going to ask me to the prom. And he just… doesn’t.”
“You should ask him, take control. You’re a strong, independent woman.” Bella affirms our friend.
“I am?” Angela responds, unsure.
“Yes.” Blunt and to the point, Bella nods at her.
“Absolutely Ang, he’s just a boy and he would be stupid to turn you down.” I add, confident Eric would be over the moon to go to prom with someone as smart and amazing as her.
“Hey, will you do me up?” Jessica asks me, spinning around in front of me where I lean against the open passenger door next to Angela’s perch on the seat.
“Of course.” I oblige her as she moves her hair to the side.
“Bella!” Turning towards the voice, three tall guys from the reservation walk towards our van.
“Hi, Jacob.” Bella greets the one leading the small group, “Guys, this is Jacob.” She tells us and he gives the rest of us a nod and a wave before sitting next to Bella in the open side door. “What are you, like, stalking me?” I hear Bella tease Jacob.
“You're on my rez, remember?” Jacob chuckles, “Are you surfing?”
“Definitely not.” It’s my turn to chuckle as I catch the scoff and completely serious look on her face.
“You guys should keep them company.” Jess encourages the new group of guys, “Um, Bella’s date bailed.”
“What date?!” Eric panics and pauses like a deer in headlights.
“She invited Edward.” Jessica answers, but Bella jumps to defend her crush.
“To be polite, that's it.”
“I was going to invite Jasper, but since Edward didn’t want to come…” I trail off awkwardly.
“I think it's nice they invited them, nobody ever does.” Trying to come to our rescue, Angela adds.
“Yeah, 'cause the Cullen's are freaks.” Mike’s jealousy showing clear.
“You got that right!” The slightly taller Quileute guy to my right agrees and I’m immediately annoyed.
“You guys know them?” Bella ignores their comments and tries to latch on to any spec of information she can. I also turn to the guys, curious about anything I might learn of the Cullen family.
“The Cullens don't come here.” The other one says ominously, silencing the group.
What an odd thing to say… I mean, is the family not allowed? Did something happen? I have so many questions, but I also know it’ll be incredibly awkward to press them for answers after only just meeting.
After munching on a Twizzler, Jacob stands and turns to my friend. “Wanna go walk the beach while your friends jump in the water?”
“Sure.” Bella rises and pauses in front of Angela and I, “you guys good?”
“Absolutely - yeah!” We nod and smile, both of us content to watch the surf and huddle under our blankets as everyone sets off for the shore.
Jumping in Bella’s truck once everyone’s had their fill of the freezing waves, I lean over and crank the heat dial while she starts the ancient vehicle.
Rubbing my thighs to warm my hands and legs, I ask, “So was that weird, or just me? The comments about the Cullen’s not coming to the Rez?”
“Definitely not just you, I asked Jake on our walk what they meant.” Coaxing the truck onto the road towards Forks, she continues. “He started talking about Quileute legends and old tales.”
“What does that have to do with the Cullen’s?” I press.
“He said they’re supposedly descendants from an enemy clan and they were found hunting on their land.” She glances at me before continuing, “So they made some kind of treaty I guess, to stay off their land and they wouldn’t expose them.”
“Expose them for what?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t say.” She huffs, annoyed. “Do you-do you want to come over for a little bit? I was thinking about doing some research on this stuff.”
“Oh hell yes, count me in!” I turn to look out the window with a grin, I might be closer to actually getting answers now than if I were to solve this on my own.
The rest of the evening was spent huddled around Bella’s computer. We searched Quileute legends on google and ended up coming across tales of ‘Cold Ones’ intertwined in the tribe’s history. An odd sensation came over me when it described their qualities, almost like a foreboding feeling - but I shrugged it off. After a few more clicks, we found a book that could help dive more in-depth on the legends.
“There!” I point at the screen, seeing the availability of it at a store close to our location.
“One is in stock at Thunderbird & Whale Book Store in Port Angeles.” Bella reads as she pulls up a map, scribbling the address on a sticky note. “Wanna come with me after school Tuesday?” She turns to ask as I munch on some chips, taking a seat at the end of her bed.
“There’s no point in asking anymore, we’re in this together. I’m just as invested in finding out more about Jasper as you are about Edward.”
“Fair.” She cracks a sideways grin as she flops on her bed next to me.
• March 7th, 2005 • Forks HS •
Reader
Rushing through the clouded hallway before first period to avoid Tyler Crowley and his gaggle of friends, I spot Jasper loitering with his sister Rose near the end of the corridor. I practically ran in his direction-pushing him by the chest into a secluded alcove by the stairs, an apologetic wince of a smile thrown in Rosalie’s direction that was immediately met with understanding as her eyes located the entourage hot on my heels.
“Sorry,” I whisper to his shocked form, “if they find me, you give a very distinct ‘fuck off’ vibe they can’t ignore.”
His eyes were wide as he looked down at me - I think I rendered him speechless with my forward actions, commandeering his body for personal use against other boys. Come to think about it, what was I thinking? This is Jasper Hale, why would he-
“Glad to be of service. Even though this might be a little bit of a strange request.” He whispered right back, the space small enough that he didn’t need to talk too loud over the din of the hallway and with how close we were standing - there wasn’t much space between us.
God, what the fuck am I doing?
Without even thinking, I lean my head forward to settle on the center of his chest, closing my eyes in embarrassment, arms clutching my notebooks to my chest. Before I could think about what I just initiated, one of his large hands came to settle on my back, immediately soothing the worries that began to swim that I was being too forward.
“Are you alright?” He murmured into my hair.
“That’s a loaded question.” I mumbled into his shirt, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter. How could he read me so well?
The longer we stood here, the more I began to realize his chest wasn’t moving. Is he holding his breath? Oh shit, do I-
“Oh, uhh, my bad! I-I’ll see you around Y/n.” I heard Tyler stutter, I turned my head to see him glancing between Jasper and I. Perfection, my plan a success as the gaggle of boys turned tail and hurried away.
I glance upwards to Jasper’s stoic face, “Thank you for your flawless execution.” Complimenting his quick compliance in my hasty plan before running off to my next class of the day.
“Anytime, doll.” He replied with that southern accent and signature half-smirk.
Damn him for being so attractive and for using that nickname.
Jasper
I remained standing here a few more moments, not entirely sure what just transpired between Y/n and I. Her scent lingering in this alcove she accosted me into, lavender and fresh linen invaded my senses as those all-too-familiar flames of devastating hunger take up residence in my throat again.
I know I’ll hear it about this little stunt the moment I’m home this afternoon, Rosalie no doubt currently informing Emmett and Alice of what transpired.
I exhaled a sigh and let my head thump against the wall behind me, eyes slipping closed. I swear I can still feel her forehead pressed against my chest. I forced myself to stop breathing then in the moment, the desire for unsavory things it caused to swirl in my chest needed to be suffocated. I could feel the tension emanating from her then and I had to stamp that out if I ever hoped she’d continue to be comfortable with me, my own bloodthirsty desire be damned. I could still feel the warmth from where her body touched mine.
This gorgeous human girl has me wrapped around her tiny little finger and I’m not even sure she’d give me the time of day.
Once I manage to peel myself away from the wall, Alice rushes up to me with worry saturating her emotions.
“I’ve been looking for you! We need to leave, the sun will be out by lunch.” She tells me in a rush.
What I wouldn’t give to not have a life dictated by the weather. With a sigh, I follow my sister to the student parking lot.
Next
#bless-my-demons#redamancy series#twilight#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#jasper whitlock hale#twilight fanfiction#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper whitlock#jasper hale x female!reader#slow burn#romance
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made a thing for the @destieldtiyschallenge secret valentine challenge that @sheepstiel set up (I guess, based on how other people are submitting these). I recreated @impmakesart's art piece from a bang fic, featuring Dean and Cas stargazing on the Impala (seen below)
(added a copy of the original here since there are three art things there and I only did the one. also for easier comparisons and idk I don't think this is against the rules)
and here's the redraw
I think I only drew the Impala one other time and that one was awful so I am kinda glad this one actually looks like a car even if that's only because I forced myself to actually use a reference. I also think I found the same reference the original artist used which was kind of a weird feeling. tried something new with the trees and I like how those came out at least. didn't even try making actual constellations or anything so don't look at those too closely uh
this whole challenge was definitely a learning experience at least and it was fun to recreate something someone else made, hope the gift isn't too disappointing. also I know the original doesn't have an outline around stuff but the car just blended in with the background too much so I added it
(in case it wasn't obvious I have no idea what I'm doing. I tried to format this like the other posts but nah I always talk in my posts and I wanted both images in there so I just did this instead)
(02/26/24)
#my art#supernatural#spn#spn fanart#castiel#dean winchester#destiel#my prompts#my redraws#dtiys#destieldtiys2024#destiel dtiys#my gifts#idk what to tag this#my sad attempt at drawing the Impala
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study tips i made instead of studying
first and foremost, do as i say not as i do (as in don't post study tips on tumblr when you have seven tests to study for)
make it aesthetic, that's always super motivating. put a playlist in the background like the "you're a princess researching about your mother while trying to overthrow your father" or "solving a mystery in your elite boarding school" or "studying in a library with the ghosts" (look them up they're good god knows i'm too lazy to link them) also mcu soundtracks help me so much!!
pretty notes!!
DRINK WATER (go now fr or i'm going to find you)
something i like to do is keep a big cup of water next to me and force myself to sit and study until it's empty
open windows!!! wind helps me focus personally
pretend you're studying in hogwarts or in the dead poets society or something. imagination is very powerful
snacks!!!!!!
more snacks!!!!!!!!!!
get interested in what you're studying. like fr. stuff we learn in school is amazing af like what do you mean we found out the universe is expanding through red-shift??? ok i know this is very nerdy of me but it's cool af. BE NERDY.
take breaks <3 always
pretend you have a rival you need to destroy (if you have one that's even better, personally me and my rival sometimes study in the same room to motivate each other just by glaring at each other from across the room)(side note: this could also be his method of flirting i will never know)
stand up and walk around every once in a while. for all my figure skating besties -- try to do an off-ice axel in your kitchen. it tends to wake me up because i tend to fall when i try to do a double but whatever that's a me problem.
find somewhere comfortable and wear something comfortable
make a to-do list
SEPARATE SECTION ABOUT TO-DO LISTS BECAUSE I HAVE A WHOLE SYSTEM FOR THIS
first of all you're going to brain dump everything you have to do. every little thing. including walking your dog. everything that has to be done in the next 24 hours.
let's take a sample to do list:
- math quiz
-math homework
-physics presentation
-chemistry test
-french oral
next, you're going to give each of them a score. how do we put scores? well
give it an easiness score from 1 -> 10 (10 being you can do it upside down with your eyes closed)
give it a stress score from -1 -> -10 (-10 being it causes crippling anxiety)
give it a priority score from 1 -> 10 (10 being your teacher will hunt you down if it isn't done in the next hour)
finally, give it in a convenience score from -1 -> -4 (-4 being i don't know where my notebook is my pen is in antartica i have no material to do this atm)
for me it would be something like
- math quiz (5E, -1S, 10P, -2C) 12
-math homework (7E, 0S, 8P, -1C) 14
-physics presentation (6E, -2S, 5P, -2C) 7
-chemistry test (2E, -2S, 10P, 0C) 10
-french oral (10E, -3S, 8P, -1C) 14
then sort everything. do the highest scores first and the lowest scores last (so you get the easy stuff done and get motivated to continue) and there! your to-do list is done in the least painful way possible <3
#no i really should be studying what's wrong with me#these are usually foolproof istg they got me through literally all of high school but i'm in a really bad state rn#tips#study tips#studying#study motivation#student#studyblr community#studyblr
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By your side- Jude Bellingham
I thought I had my life together I was engaged, planning a wedding and had just found out I was pregnant everything seemed so perfect. I don't know how it all went wrong so quickly I just came home from work to be greeted with a note from my fiancé saying he was leaving me because he had been cheating and felt he was more in love with the other woman. He was so kind to let me have the house that I bought and only took his things from it although he did leave the place in a mess doing so. To start with I didn't feel anything as I was so in shock but once it sunk in I haven't stopped crying. Luckily finances aren't a worry for me as I make a good amount of money so I can continue to pay all the bills and can afford everything for the baby but having no support has been hard especially because no one knows I'm pregnant as I'm still quite early on.
All of this happened Friday so I haven't been back into work yet and I know I should probably take some time off to figure things out and give myself time to work through my feelings but I need the distraction I can't wallow in self pity anymore. Luckily today I just have a lot of paperwork to do so I'll be in my office just getting on with things not talking to the players who would definitely ask questions as to why I'm not wearing my ring. Something I didn't account for out of pure stupidity is all my co workers as soon as I arrived they asked about my weekend just to be nice but just being reminded of everything that happened hurt. One then asked where my ring was as I never take it off and I had to just lie and say I took it off for something and forgot to put it back on all while trying to hold back tears.
When I was finally in the confines off my office I couldn't hold back the tears anymore my whole world has been turned upside down and here I am trying to act like everything is normal which is so much harder than I thought. Even my office still portrays my perfect life my pc background is of me and my ex fiancé and I have so many pictures of us throughout my office. In my desk draw I even have an ultrasound picture from my first ultrasound which made me think about the fact that my baby has to grow up without a dad which I was so against for my own kids as I know the struggle.
As I was sobbing I thought I heard a knock at my office door but no one said anything so I just kept crying until I felt a hand on my shoulder which scared the living daylights out of me. Part of me wanted to punch whoever or whatever was behind me but instead I just jumped back and turned around at the speed of light. My soul came back into my body when I realised that it was just Jude although I still kind of wanted to punch him for scaring me so badly. That's when it hit me that Jude had just seen me crying my eyes out and I have to explain why I was so upset which only made me cry again thinking about it. Jude knelt down in front of me and tried to wipe my tears as they fell but he couldn't keep up so instead he tried comforting me to stop the tears altogether.
It took a while but eventually I had no more tears left to cry and I was forced to try and regulate my breathing again. As I tried calming myself down my morning sickness kicked in at full force and my options were throw up all over Jude or try and make to to the bathroom so I picked the second option and ran towards the bathroom. I made it just in time and apparently so did Jude as I felt him gather my hair and hold it back while rubbing my back. He must think I'm insane as I've just cried in front of him for 20 minutes now I'm throwing up but his opinion of me is the least of my worries right now.
"Are you ok?" Jude asked once I had stopped throwing up
"Yeah I'm fine" I lied
"Whats wrong and before you tell me there's nothing wrong I know there is no one cries that much for no reason" Jude said
"I'm just going through a hard time" I said
"Look you don't have to tell me but it might help to get things off your chest plus I promise I won't tell anyone" he said
"Ok but be prepared it's a lot" I said
"Friday night when I got home my fiancé left me a note saying he was leaving me for another woman that he'd been cheating on my with for nearly a year and to top it all off I'm 10 weeks pregnant with our baby" I explained
"Oh wow that is a lot" he commented
"I knew I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry" I said suddenly feeling insecure
"No no I don't mean it like that I just wasn't expecting you to be holding onto so much I don't know how you are even here right now I'd be wallowing in bed" Jude said which made me smile
"Look I know we aren't extremely close but you confided in me and as long as you'll let me I want to be there to support you with anything you need and I mean anything if you need a shoulder to cry on I'll be there and if you want someone to beat up your ex I'm on it" he said completely seriously
"Thank you your support would mean a lot just don't tell anyone at least not right now" I said
"You got it I won't utter a word to anyone else until you are ready" he said miming zipping his mouth
~~~~~~~~~~
3 months later
The last few months have been difficult but Jude has made my life so much easier. Every day after training he comes to my office usually with a snack of some form and just sits and talks with me as I work. He also gave me his number so anytime I need to talk I can call him or text him and he'll be right over no matter the time. He's been more caring and supportive in the last few months than my ex ever was throughout our whole relationship. I've come to realise that maybe this situation isn't all bad as if none of this had happened I'd still be with my ex settling for what I know now was a shitty relationship at best. He never cared for me he was just there and did what was necessary to stop me leaving but Jude has taught me that I deserve better as even though we are just friends I've enjoyed his company way more than my ex's.
Not only has Jude been there for me emotionally he has been physically present when I need him. He has come to some baby appointments with me he is too busy to make them all but he tries to be there as often as he can. The first time he came he didn't come in with me he just waited outside for me but the second time I let him come in and since then if he can make it he always comes in with me. It has been nice having someone else with me to keep me calm as they check that the baby is developing as they should be and having someone else there when I found out the gender was nice too. I think Jude was more excited than I was to find out I was having a girl I went sure if I wanted to find out but Jude convinced me as he wanted to plan an on theme baby shower for me so that I had some good memories of this pregnancy.
Today is the day of the baby shower and I haven't had to lift a finger Jude and some of the other boys have planned it all and are setting up. The party isn't even being hosted at my place Jude said he'd set everything up at his and he promised to pick me up so I'm literally doing nothing other than turning up. My morning was so relaxing I was able to spend as much time as I wanted getting ready doing my hair and makeup all nice and putting on my dress which I got when out with some friends as they insisted that I looked too good not to buy it. For the first time in a while I actually felt really good, pregnancy has been really hard on my self confidence but I must admit that I look good all done up.
Jude arrived right on time to pick me up and he even brought me a cupcake in case I was hungry which at this point in my pregnancy I pretty much always am. When we arrived Jude made me close my eyes and led me all the way through his house back outside to the garden where I opened my eyes to see everyone already there and everything decorated perfectly. I nearly cried seeing everyone there for me I've felt so alone and like no one cares about me at times but knowing that they all took time out of their days to come here means so much to me. I made my way round and talked to everyone thanking them all for coming before Jude dragged me away and got me to sit next to a table which was stacked with gifts. Everyone had gotten me such lovely things and some essentials some of which I hadn't even thought about myself yet. Once I had opened everything from everyone Jude invited it was time to open the things he had gotten for me. He went completely overboard getting all sorts of really expensive items such as cribs, car seat, stroller he thought of it all.
"Thank you so much Jude you don't need to get me all this in fact you shouldn't have it's all so expensive" I said
"I wanted to you've had a hard time and you deserve nice things for the baby which I knew you wouldn't get for yourself" he said
"Well thank you I don't know what else I can say or do to show you how much I appreciate all this" I said
"You don't need to do or say anything I can tell by the tears in your eyes that you appreciate it and knowing you are happy is all I need" he said
~~~~~~~~~~
4 months later
So many people have told me to stop working and start my maternity leave but I just hit 38 weeks so I have a bit more time left and I don't want to waste my time off if the baby could not arrive for up to 3 weeks. I need as much maternity leave available for after the baby is here as possible as I'm the only one who will be looking after her and I can't bring myself to put her in daycare until she's closer to one which is when I'd come back to work. Working while this pregnant is difficult as I can't move as quickly as I used to and I have to pee what feels like every few minutes but I push through and get everything done with a bit of help from coworkers and Jude when he's around.
This morning I woke up with pain in my lower back which isn't completely unusual but for some reason it felt different to the back pain I normally have. Despite the pain I got myself ready for work and drove to the training centre as that's where my office is. I made it to my office and started turned on my pc and started gathering the things I need for the day when I felt liquid tricking down my leg then it happened a big gush of what looked like water hit the floor. It felt like time stopped for a few minutes as I just stood there looking at the floor panicking slightly because as much as I tried to prepare for this moment now it's actually happening it's quite scary. Past me was prepared for this situation though as she brought spare clothes to the office a few weeks ago and I put my hospital bag in the car just incase.
After a few minutes of panicking my rational brain kicked in and I got myself changed and found my phone so I could start timing my contractions. I waddled my way from my office down to the physios area of the training centre as I knew Jude would be there as he picked up an injury a few weeks ago so he's still getting treatment. My idea was to just deal with the contractions on my own for a while until I felt like I needed to go to the hospital but they were slightly more painful than I expected and I just didn't want to be alone. Jude had told me if I needed him he'd make himself available so I’m definitely going to take him up on that at least for a little while.
He was exactly where I expected him to be but he definitely wasn't expecting to see me because as soon as he spotted me he told the physio to stop what he was doing and leapt off the bed towards me. There was a moment where he was clearly processing what must be going on as I never come and find him during the day and definitely not wearing comfy clothes like I am right now. It took him a second but it eventually he worked out why I was there and he looked just as panicked as I felt.
"Oh my god are you ok do we need to go to the hospital?" He asked
"First off I'm as good as I can be and two we can't go yet my waters have just broken I just didn't want to be alone" I said
"Ok let me talk to Carlo and then we can go back to your office until it's time" he said
"Wait do you need anything?" He asked before running off
"Just some water please I didn't get chance to fill up my bottle" I said
"Got it go back to your office and I'll be there before you know it" he said
He wasn't wrong he got there just after I did although he did have the advantage of being able to run and not having to stop for contractions. As soon as he arrived he took over the timing of my contractions and let me squeeze his hand when I needed to although I didn't want to hurt him so I didn't squeeze too hard. Things started progressing a lot quicker than I expected and my contractions really started to hurt as they got closer and closer together which made it harder to stop myself from making too much noise like I had been.
"Thats 5 minutes apart now" Jude said
"It fucking feels like it" I groaned
"Do you have everything in your car?" Jude asked
"Yeah my hospital bag and car seat are all in there" I replied
"How about I drive your car to the hospital then so you can have everything you need" he suggested
"That sounds like a good idea but when we get there please don't leave I don't think I can do this on my own" I said
"I won't leave you don't worry as long as you want me there I'll be there but if you want me gone at any point just tell me it's all up to you but first let's get to the hospital" he said
From the second we arrived at the hospital things went by so quickly I'm not sure that I remember everything that happened. What I do know is that I was already 6cm dilated when we arrived and things only progressed from there. I did a lot of walking around trying to let gravity do some of the work but when a contraction hit I couldn't keep going I had to grab onto whatever was nearest which sometimes was the bed and other times was Jude as he followed me around.
When it got to the point that I was nearly ready to start pushing I considered whether I wanted Jude to stay because I really value the bond we've built over the last few months and I don't know if I want to ruin that by making him watch me give birth. My feelings for him go past that of just friends but of course he doesn't feel the same way as why would he want someone who's just about to birth another man's baby. Maybe having him stay would mean he doesn't want to see me again which would help me get over my feelings but then again I don't know if a harsh break in our friendship is what I need right now. In the end my fear of doing this alone won so I asked Jude if he was comfortable staying and to my surprise he said yes and promised he wouldn't look while laughing which definitely lifted the tense atmosphere in the room.
All the doctors and nurses filed into the room and put my bed in the right position and put my legs in the foot holds on the bottom of the bed. Jude was stood right by my side as the nurses instructed me on how to breathe and when to push. It was definitely painful but the nurses and Jude kept encouraging me which kept me going even when I wanted to give up. All it took was a few minutes until I heard the most amazing sound of my daughter crying for the first time. There was no energy left in me to use to stop the tears so I just let myself cry and the tears only intensified when my baby girl was placed on my chest for the first time. She was just so perfect I don't think I've ever felt more love for anyone or anything in my life. Jude tried wiping the tears from my face but they were only replaced by more in just a few seconds.
The nurses had to take my baby girl to do all of the necessary tests to make sure she is healthy which pained me as I just wanted to hold her but I know it's important. It was only then that I realised that I was still holding Jude's hand so I went to let go but he just held my hand tighter. I looked into his eyes and he too had tears in his eyes which made me even more emotional. His free hand pushed my hair back as it had become a mess over the many hours of labour I had been through. As he moved my hair out the way he leant down and completely unexpectedly his lips met mine in what was the best kiss I've ever had in my life. It was unexpected but I kissed him back pretty much straight away but he pulled away after a few more seconds.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that I crossed a line I'm sorry" he said
"Don't be sorry I enjoyed it I've had feelings for you for a while I just didn't think you'd want me" I said
"How could I not want the most beautiful girl in the world" he smiled
"I hope you know I come with my mini me now" I laughed
"I wouldn't have it any other way" he said
#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham#football imagine
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“ CAMPUS CRUSH ” d. page
wc: 1.8k ++ gn reader ++ they/them pronouns ++ apparently MC is canonically charming. i did what i had to do w/ this info
"[MC] is so lovely. Don't you think?" Ivy muses as she bids you goodbye.
"Huh?" Daniel eyes her with a puzzled look, before shrugging indifferently. "Well... I suppose."
She turns to him, a confused look on her face.
"Why? You don't think they're lovely?" She tilts her head.
"What?"—the sudden query causes him to tense up, and he awkwardly looks away, scratching his cheek.
"I didn't say that..."
A muggle-born—seemingly just there as if destined to help your friends with their rather messed up backgrounds in comparison to your little-known one.
In spite of this, Daniel was aware that you weren't as commonplace as you appeared to be. It's undoubtedly beyond the powers of an ordinary young wix to so easily overwhelm dark wizards that they're forced to flee.
And that's only one of the things that makes you a touch... outlandish to him, despite how much more bizarre your other friends seem to be.
...However, other than your excellent skills in wizardry, Daniel was also well aware of the effect you had on people.
It swirls from even way back during your first year—who would have thought an eleven-year old like you could charm people just like that? And by people, that also includes your superiors, apparently.
That very instance of when he had tried to explore the Forbidden Forest in search for an ingredient—only to, alas, be caught by Hagrid himself.
"Uh...then, it'd be okay if you went with us?" Daniel cringed inwardly, hoping that his little attempt would work even to some small degree.
Hagrid does stammer a bit—at least that's what Daniel accomplished.
"Hang on, that's not what I was sayin'. It's true, o'course. but I were tryin' to warn you and—"
"—And keep us safe, right?" You quickly interrupt, eyes practically shimmering as you tilted forward with an innocent grin. "That's so thoughtful, Hagrid! So- you'll come with us then?"
Your sudden intrusion to maneuver the situation brings Daniel's eyebrows to raise, though even further more after Hagrid's response:
"Oh. Well..." The half-giant hesitantly scratches through his thick mane-esque hair. "Only because I need to check on somethin' myself. Suppose a quick look couldn't hurt."
Not only just your first year, no, no—but preeminently your first day.
"I don't want detention. Just leave me out of it." Daniel crosses his arms, frowning at the three of you.
Naturally, it was logical at the time—to be wandering around the castle at the dead of night, in search of a girl you barely knew was absolutely nonsensical to him.
Getting in trouble in the first day is the least Daniel needs right now, and to think you, his housemate, insists on coming along is beyond him. Are you trying to mitigate your house points?
Just his luck, said housemate steps forward towards the blonde Gryffindor—"What about you, Kevin? Are you with us?"
"We could definitely use someone as clever as you to help find Ivy." You beam—as opposed to Daniel's lour.
"Oh! Oh… Thanks for the compliment, I-I think," Kevin scratches his chin and clumsily pushes his glasses. "I suppose I could give it a go…"
Robyn cackles, and Daniel's lips part in disbelief.
At that moment, he would've had to squint to be able to foresee the spark you'd light up in people. The spark you'd light up in him.
"You know, you've changed drastically since the first year."
Daniel's eyebrows raise at you, expression turning to one of interest. "What... What do you mean?"
He tilts head to one side. Then he grins amusedly, his head remaining in that tilt.
"I have? How?"
You put your finger to your chin. "Well... You were a bit dismissive when we first befriended you, and you refused to help us find Ivy on the first day because you were worried we'd get caught and all. You were more on the serious and awkward side, you know? And now you're more than willing to break a rule or two for the benefit of your friends… or yourself." You grinned back.
Daniel turns to one of embarrassment as you note his past behavior, though it's a warm embarrassment... He's glad that he's made that sort of progress, somewhat.
He clears his throat, turning slightly pink.
"I guess I've grown more since then, huh?" He lets out a breathy laugh, turning back to you—and you swore something twinkled in his eyes.
"I can't believe that I let something like the threat of getting caught stop me. I guess all the crazy stuff that's happened... It changed me, a bit."
No. It did. Maybe, yes.
But truthfully, beneath your palms that kissed each other, and your fingers that intertwined with one another—you're the one who changed him.
Would he have been able to foretell the way he was going to change over the years? If he hadn't been so dismissive at first, could he have altered earlier? Had more friends earlier? You saved him, somewhat. And he felt like Merlin had blessed him upon the very moment you two finally became proper friends.
How did you do it?—he'd ask you. And it feels a bit silly to ask how you became friends with him. But it was such a pondering thought that stumped him for majority of the first year. After all, he had insisted you to not sit with him on the train simply because "no one wanted to."
Yet you answer with—I just did—with a smile so kind he would have almost understood your answer.
Almost.
But it was as clear as day to him, that from the very start, you wanted to sit next to him. You weren't just "no one."
What he didn't know, was that he'd be bewitched by your charms himself. And just his luck, he didn't know how to respond to this revelation either.
He felt as though he had fell down a rabbit hole, one where it had pictures of your face plastered upon its walls. And said rabbit hole eats him, chews him up, and spits him out. Making him stumble to the ground with a loud groan.
When he opens his eyes, he sees a hand. Then he looks up and realizes its your hand, looks up to see your face—with the same smile you flashed him back when you were eleven years old, right by the cauldron shop at Diagon Alley.
Ridiculous, he told himself.
But he took your hand anyway, and flashed you a dopey grin back.
Before this all, he sort of had a grasp of it. Like, yes, you're attractive. And while you weren't necessarily popular, you were quite well-known.
Not because you were good-looking and were skilled in dueling just like Cassandra; not because you were nothing more than a troublemaker who apparently reeks like the Frey twins; certainly not because you were a "bloody [Last Name]" just like he was—but merely because you were kind. And you remained as nice as pie throughout all these years, and he prays you'll continue to do so.
But Daniel thought, was that all it took to be liked?
He was different from you in that he had rather, well, deplorable social skills. He wasn't rude, not unfriendly. He was a good boy. But he certainly wasn't sociable enough to be liked like you were.
He thought it was a bit ridiculous. At one point he was convinced you had gulped down on an everlasting beautification potion, or you had cast a specific charm on those nearby—though of course it was just by jest.
He just doesn't understand. Can't grasp the truth of how you could cause such an effect on some people—whether platonically or romantically.
It's one thing to be kind, though. Daniel knows a lot of kind people—Lottie is kind, Ivy is kind. But they don't charm people the way you do. So what exactly about you was so special?
Well, you did manage to befriend him years ago in the first year when he was just a wee bairn, who hated any form of attention shining on him. Maybe that's something. But he wasn't that effected. A lie.
Of course your loveliness didn't have an unrealistic, comical effect on people—but it was still pretty impressive, and rather amusing to watch how some people just give in to you by asking nicely.
Though you hadn't quite got to him, personally, merely because he doesn't get it entirely.
At least that's what he liked to tell himself.
Until one fateful day, you're asked which one of your friends was your best friend. Which one knew you better? Who was your favorite?
And several eyes shot up to you, full of what looks like thinly veiled hope, anticipation, trapped by a somewhat menacing aura accompanied by the painful silence—waiting for your voice to cut through it.
You nervously giggled, waving your hands in dismissal with a sheepish grin. "Personally, I'm close with everyone! I'd say Ivy and Daniel do know me better, but I don't have a favorite, necessarily..."
And everyone decides to unpluck the fish hook they just stabbed in your cheek to move on to the next.
Daniel watches as you sigh in relief, and you meet his staring eyes—causing the boy to jolt slightly.
But you give him a grin and lean towards him, beckoning him to move closer to your shielding palm. And he does.
"Dont tell anyone this, but, you're my favorite."
And oh, oh. He finally gets it. He fully gets it. And he gets more than what was needed.
Now he gets why you're the type of person that people linger around the area for. Now he understands that one boy who so desperately tries to impress you in Quidditch—who points to you with a wink before shooting.
And now he understands the slight warmth blossoming on his cheeks whenever you were too near—understands how his heart seemed to gradually beat faster around you as the years went by.
And Daniel wonders if he's still your favorite when another guy tries to court you.
...And he cheekily smiles to himself as you awkwardly reject the bouquet of flowers.
Yes, he's still your favorite.
But he still wonders, and wonders, and wonders.
Do you feel the same way he does?
Do you mirror the same flushed and frustrated look on his face on nights he can't sleep because of you?
Do you ever stare out the classroom window thinking about him?
Ever stop to stare at the cauldron beneath your chin because the potion had changed into his favorite color for barely a split second, like he does to you??
And when Robyn gently smacks her broom against the top of his head—he decides it'll be best to find out once Quidditch class is over.
So he turns away, begrudgingly following Robyn up in the air as he tries his best to let the wind mute down Robyn's queries.
—unaware of the lingering gaze you cast him when he does.
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Pay For My Time (pt. 1)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female
In which Ghost's neighbour drags him in for dinner, and then ruins his life.
Warnings: blowjobs (but it's soft and sweet)
word count 3.1k
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Taking in packages was a neighbourly thing to do, I supposed. There was something sweet about the small kindness of looking after their property with no ulterior motive, never having met the person. I placed the small cardboard box next to my front door, going back to my sofa and my mug of tea.
I could just keep it. I’ve never met the man behind the name on that box, and he wouldn’t know my face. A small smile flickered across my lips as I considered the thought.
But when a firm knock resounded on my door that evening, I answered. And lord- maybe altruism is rewarded.
I raised a curious brow at the giant of a man standing on my fluffy pink doormat, the juxtaposition making me smirk. He was huge, undeniably, but I couldn’t take in the expanse of his body as I was transfixed to the mask on his face. Only a pair of dark, dark brown eyes visible beneath a skull across his cheekbones. That was the only sliver of skin exposed, even his hands hidden behind military style leather gloves.
“…Hello.” I stated simply, keeping my hand firmly on my door.
He just stared at me expectantly, his posture stiff and perfectly straight. “You have my package?” A thick Manchester accent asks gruffly from behind the mask and I feel myself grinning as I glean at least this tiny bit of information about him.
“If you’re…” I leaned back to read the name on the slip. “…John Smith from flat 2, then yes I do.” I keep my smile as I hand him the package. There’s a small grunt of thanks in return.
I leaned against the door as I take him in a little longer. “I’m Lucy.” I don’t bother offering a hand to shake, doubting that he would take it. “I take it you’re not John.” I let my grin crease the edges of my eyes up.
“…Ghost.” He replied after a second, seeming to consider his words carefully.
I hum curiously. “That suits you a little better.” I tilted my head, taking in his appearance. Despite the stern exterior and the absolute confidence in which he holds himself, I find myself frowning in concern at him. “You’re not home very often, are you?”
He stiffened a little at my questioning. “Why do you ask that?” His voice doesn’t betray any emotion.
“I would’ve noticed you before.” I paused again, “Do you want some dinner? I know your type, military men, and I can’t imagine you’ve had a proper home-cooked meal in a while.” I offered as casually as I could.
“No thank you, ma’am.” He replied at exactly the same time as his stomach rumbled. I smirked.
I opened the door wider in invitation. “I can’t force you.” I raised an eyebrow expectantly as I could just about make out the crease of his brow above his eyes.
“…okay.” He replied, the softest he had spoken in our short interaction. My smile grew wider, bouncing a little on the balls of my feet.
I pointed towards the couch of my modest flat, crossing the living room to the drinks cabinet. “Do you drink wine or whisky? Or…vodka?” I glanced at him over my shoulder, deliberately wording my question to try and avoid him declining a drink.
He chuckled at this. “Whisky. Thanks.” He sat carefully on the couch, his back still ram rod straight.
I poured him a healthy amount, placing it next to my own glass of wine on the coffee table. I made my way over to the kitchen. “You like pasta, right?” I called, trying to decide on an appropriate portion size for a hungry man twice my size, deciding to just pour the entire packet into the pan.
“I do indeed.” He replied, taking a sip of his drink.
I hummed along to the soft music I had left playing in the background. “So, Ghost. I was right about military? What branch?” I tried to make polite conversation with the mysterious stranger I had kidnapped into my living room as I cooked him dinner.
“I can’t really talk about it.” Was all he called back in response. I chuckled at this.
“So you’re a big deal?” I couldn’t see it, but Ghost rolled his eyes and smirked at me.
“What about you, Lucy?” He asked and I giggled as I fried up the chicken and vegetables I had chopped.
“I’m a dancer.” I waited for the inevitable silence that always followed that answer. “…and no, not the ballet slipper wearing kind, if that’s your next question.”
I could hear him clear his throat. “It was.”
I giggled as I returned to the living room, placing the heaped plate in front of him. He looked down at with an appreciative gaze. “You’re not eating?” He asked, another frown appearing on his face.
I shrugged. “Not hungry.” I leaned back into the couch, leaving half a foot or so between us. He lifted the balaclava over his mouth, resting it on the bridge of his nose. I watched him curiously as he ate, giggling again as I heard a tiny groan escape his lips at the first bite. “Yeah, I’m not bad.” I teased. I sipped away at my wine as I tried to get a read on him, his posture starting to relax just a little as the food and alcohol worked their magic.
As though he could feel my stare, he glanced up at me with a mouth full of food. He swallowed thickly, “What?” I held my gaze, sinking back further into the couch, my leg inching further towards his.
“Why do you wear that mask?” I asked softly, running my eyes over his sharp jawline and the thin scar that trailed along it.
He didn’t break eye contact as he took another swig of whisky. “Do you use another name when you dance?” He asked pointedly.
I chuckled, eyes lighting up. “Nice analogy.” I could see him smirk now, and admired the way his lip curled up.
I let him eat in silence for a little longer, just letting the soft, slow music fill the room as I silently thanked my past self for picking a vaguely seductive playlist. I stood as he finished the plate, leaning over perhaps a little too close to pick it up.
“You want more?” I murmured, my face close to his for a second before pulling away.
“N-no. That was…amazing. Thank you.”
I smiled genuinely. “I’m just glad you got to eat something other than the rations I imagine they have you eating when you’re working.” I got another grunt in response as I placed the dish in the sink, resuming my place on the couch next to him.
“So, Manchester, huh?” I asked over the rim of my glass.
He chuckled and nodded, casting his eyes over me. “London?”
I scrunched up my nose and shook my head. “Surrey.”
“Ah. Posh girl.” I rolled my eyes and shoved his arm playfully, noting just how muscular he was underneath the thick black sweater.
“Left and never looked back.” I replied softly.
“Strict family, rebelled and moved to the big city?” He asked, a hint of cheekiness in his tone.
I bit my lip, humming in response. “Something like that.”
I let the semi-comfortable silence hang over us, content watching the now exposed muscles in his jaw work as he swallowed.
He was the first to break the silence, to my pleasant surprise. “Why did you invite me in?”
I smiled up at him, warmth in my eyes. “…I know your type. Thought you could use the care.” I replied truthfully.
He frowned, his lips thinning. “Could have been a very stupid mistake.” He said in a slightly deeper voice, a hint of warning in his tone.
I didn’t let it faze me. “I’m not stupid. Like I said, I know your type. I’m pretty good at getting a read on people.”
“That come with the job?” He asked, the curiosity returning to his eyes.
“Mostly. You learn to play a lot of different roles.” I inched just a tiny bit closer to him. I saw his eyes flicker down as he noticed.
“And this? The concerned neighbour, is that a role?” He asked, his voice cautious as I saw him assessing me.
I let a hand rest against his shoulder softly. “It’s not a lie, if that’s what you mean.” I glanced down for a second as I considered. “I am many things, Ghost. A liar will never be one of them.”
He fixed me with an intense look, and I blushed a little under it. “What are you then, Lucy? You’re honest��what else? What do I need to know about you?”
God, that voice was just hypnotising. I swallowed another sip of my wine before I answered, the glass almost empty.
“Selfish. An attention seeker. A little bit crazy, if I’m to be perfectly candid.” I smiled softly.
He tilted his head, eyes running up and down my body as if in deep thought. “Crazy?”
I giggled, still blushing under his interrogation. “Bat-shit insane.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t seem it.”
“I have no reason to be, right now.” I whispered, leaning in towards his chest, my hand ghosting over his chest. “And you? What do you want me to know about you?”
He glanced down at my hand resting on the front of his sweater, that smirk tugging at his lips again. “I’m not used to pretty women looking after me.”
I giggled. “You think I’m pretty?” I glanced down at his lips that he’d left uncovered from his mask. “You want me to take care of you?”
I saw him swallow thickly. “…if you want.”
I smiled up at him, my eyes sparkling with excitement once more. I took one of his gloved hands in mine, pulling the leather off of his fingers slowly. I took his palm, massaging the flesh gently. “I do, Ghost. I would love to thank you for your service.”
I saw his face flush at this, and I tried to imagine the colour his cheeks would turn. “You…I’m only doing my duty.” He let me continue working at the muscles in his hand, rubbing the calloused flesh with my manicured hands, his eyes fixed on my face. “Can I…tell you something, Lucy?”
I smirked, flickering my gaze up to meet his. “Anything. You can’t imagine the things men tell strippers.” I saw his blush deepen at this.
“I’ve seen you before. Outside, having a cigarette.”
I raised a brow. “Oh?” I urged him to continue.
“I nearly had a stroke when you invited me in tonight.” He confessed.
I giggled fondly, placing his hand down gently in his lap. “Could you see through my ulterior motives?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “U-ulterior motives?” I grinned at the crack in his stern demeanour.
I set my now empty wine glass down, anchoring my hand on his shoulder as I swung my leg over, straddling his lap. “Yes, Ghost. Very selfish ulterior motives.”
He gulped, eyes, roaming down my body as I caressed his shoulders. “You…did mention that you were selfish.”
I nodded, leaning towards him until our lips were an inch apart. “Can I be selfish right now, Ghost?” I whispered.
He nodded, and I pressed my lips to his. He immediately stiffened beneath me but I massaged the muscles in his shoulders, pressing further into him. Soon enough, he relaxed slightly under my touch and I moaned appreciatively as his hands found my waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh almost desperately.
I pulled away just slightly, staring at him through my lashes. “You okay, soldier?” I murmured, hands snaking up behind his neck. He nodded quickly.
“Can I do that again?” He breathed, grip tightening just above my hips.
I nodded and let him pull me against him, chest to chest as we moved in sync. He kissed with hunger, like he had been held underwater forever and I was his first breath of air. I curled my fingers around the fabric of his mask, the soft material tickling my nose.
I moved down his jaw, to his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses as I slid my legs off of him. I leaned back slightly as I sank to my knees before him, staring up at him as I caught my breath.
He stared down at me with wide eyes, pupils blown so wide I could only see black. I ran my hands along his thighs, quirking a brow as I felt the sheer strength of his leg muscles underneath the rough texture of his trousers.
“Are you going to let me take care of you, sir?” I whispered, eyes searching his.
He nodded minutely, his breath shaky as his fingers clutched the cushions surrounding him. I smirked as I slowly undid his belt, sliding it out of the loops and placing it beside me. I pulled down the zipper just as slowly, letting him lift his hips so that I could pull his trousers down to his ankles.
I maintained eye contact as I pressed a soft kiss to the bare flesh of his thighs, smirking slightly as I felt him tense up from my touch. “Just relax, okay? I just want to make you feel good.” I reassured him gently.
When I heard him let out a shaky exhale, I pulled his boxers down, letting his dick spring up and hit his clothed stomach. I groaned in admiration at the sight of it, long and thick with a prominent vein running up the underside. I licked a stripe along the vein, continuing to stare up at him through my lashes as I did so.
“Fuck.” He breathed, his knuckles turning white against the cushions.
“Fuck indeed, sir. You were hiding this from me?” I giggled, wrapping my hand around him and widening my eyes slightly as I admired the way my fingers could just barely touch.
He blushed at my compliment, head leaning back just slightly as he relaxed into the sofa.
I ran my tongue up him again, wrapping my lips around the head as I moaned slightly at the taste of his precum. Another choked gasp escaped him as the sound vibrated around him, and his eyes snapped wide open as he stared down at me.
I kept my hand wrapped around the base of his cock as I took him deeper, barely halfway down his length before he hit the back of my throat. I moved slowly, letting my spit coat him as I squeezed my hand around him. I drew a low, strained moan out of him as I bobbed, his hands coming up to hold the back of my head. He made no move to guide me, simply tangling his fingers in my hair as I continued my leisurely pace.
I pushed further, my hand still covering the base of him but I heard another sound of desperation from him as I opened up my throat to let him further down. I brought my other hand up to cup his balls, and massaged the underside of him with my tongue.
“Fucking- fucking jesus Lucy, how are you doing that?” He breathed out, his hands on my head trembling. I didn’t reply as I kept my mouth on him, steadily increasing my rhythm as I felt his massive thighs tense up beside my head. “Just…just keep doing that. It feels incredible.” He whispered down at me, earning another hum of satisfaction as I moved faster at his encouragement.
I pressed my thighs together, needing some release as his moans send shockwaves directly to my pussy. When he saw this, he let out another groan, this one louder and more desperate than all the others.
“Shit, you’re just perfect, around you?” He whined as his fingers curled tighter against my scalp. “Such a good girl. Making me feel so good.”
I didn’t let up, obscene sounds filling the room as I sucked his cock like I wanted to worship it. I was worshipping it, the smell of his musk filling my nostrils and making me dizzier than the wine ever could.
When I felt his balls tighten up in my palm I took him deeper in my throat, running my tongue over his slit every time I brought my head up again. He let out a strangled cry, hips jutting forward in an attempt to chase his peak.
“Keep going, please god keep going, please let me cum down your fucking throat…” He whispered, a hint of desperation as he controlled the urge to pull me down by the hair. I did ask he asked, unrelenting as I begged for his release with my eyes.
As he looked down and saw the look in my eyes, the pure, unbridled hunger, his hips stilled and his thighs shook. He let out one final, desperate moan as I felt his release hit the back of my throat. I kept my mouth on him, swallowing down greedily as I pulled off him with long, languid strokes of my tongue.
His chest rose and fell heavily above me, his eyes lidded and his grip on my hair relaxed. He brought his hands to my cheeks, caressing my cheeks softly. “Holy shit.” He whispered, his eyes glued to my face.
I giggled. “I really enjoyed that, Ghost.” I breathed out, catching a droplet that escaped the corner of my mouth and licking the finger clean. He let out something between a sigh and a laugh, dropping his head back.
“Yeah. So did I.” He chuckled breathlessly.
I rose slowly to my feet, offering him back his belt. “You can…you can stay here tonight, if you like.” I offered softly. “But I won’t be offended if you don’t.”
He shot me a smile, his first real smile towards me, as he pulled his trousers back up. “…That sounds really nice.”
I offered him a hand. “I don’t think I’ll have anything that fits you.” I grinned.
“I think we’re about the same size.” His smile remained, something contagious about it that made me grin grow wider. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Come on. I’ve kept you up late, soldier.”
He took my hand, following me into the dimly lit bedroom. I could almost hear his smirk as he took in the girly decorations, beaded curtains and all.
“Nice bedroom.” He commented.
“Thank you. I’m really inspired by minimalist living.” I replied sarcastically. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he stripped off down to his boxers, admiring the sculpted muscles no doubt forged by years of military training. “Get in.” I pouted as I disappeared beneath the covers. He obeyed, pulling me into his chest by the waist. I sighed happily, adjusting myself to lie on his shoulder, tracing patterns idly on his collarbone.
“Thank you.” He whispered into my hair.
I smiled, not lifting my head to meet his eyes. “Just doing my job.”
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x ofc#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut
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Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?
Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~!
This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.
As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.
The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.
Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.
However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.
As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.
So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.
Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.
However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.
Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.
If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.
That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!
Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.
Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.
Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.
So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles:
Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.
Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!
Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!
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In which I keep seeing tweets hyping up Lando and McLaren for this season, so I needed to vent my expectations and bring myself back down to Earth. (1.1k, w/ Carlos popping up at the end)
Set during the 2024 championship in which Lando and McLaren come out of the gates swinging.
Lando thought he was prepared for the possibility of getting out of his car as the newly crowned champion. God knows he’s spent enough time talking it through with his team and parents— with Carlos.
As soon as he’s across the line, he’s asking Will about the finishing order, his stomach up in his throat. The sound of Will’s voice, shaken from his usual calm as he tells Lando to hang on while the team checks the finishing positions of his main rivals nearly makes Lando lose his mind.
The wait is reminiscent of his first pole position a few years ago— how torturously long it felt in the seconds while the few remaining drivers finished their laps. But now they’re in Abu Dhabi three years removed, and Lando needs a points deficit to George of at least three and a deficit of at least one to Charles.
There’s an ocean of distance between him now and September 2021.
When Lando’s radio crackles back to life after about fifteen or so torturous seconds, it’s Andrea whose voice greets him, unsettlingly more manic than Will’s, even though he’s trying to hide it. Then again, anything other than his normal calm makes Lando suspicious.
“Would you like to know the finishing order, Lando?”
“On your own time, I think.” Lando’s voice shakes more than it ever has over the radio, betraying his nonchalant words.
Andrea just chuckles. “P1, Verstappen; P2, Carlos; P3, you; P4, Russell.” The words hang in the air for only a second or two as Lando rounds the corner onto the start-finish straight.
Screams erupt in the background, but all Lando can think about is the basic mental math he’s calculating. “Does that—”
“Lando Norris, it means you’re champion of the world!”
The screams get louder then, becoming deafening behind Andrea as they filter through the open channel. His entire team is screaming, those who ran to climb the fence as he finished making their presence known so close to the pit wall. The goal they’ve been building towards for the entire year— for their entire careers— is theirs.
Lando’s vision blurs on command, his hands coming up to clutch at his visor for a split second before he has to direct the car to the third-place placard. Lando doesn’t know how he manages it once he starts yelling with the rest of the team. He wonders if he causes anyone to yank their headset off and decides he’ll have to apologize later.
For now, though, this is his moment. This is his.
Lando manages to contain his emotions when Zak gets in on the celebration, but he loses it hearing Will’s voice again. He’s successfully parked the car and already set everything to mode zero, but Will’s voice is in his ear, and the least Lando owes this man is to listen to the rest of his engineer’s words.
“Alright buddy, get out there and celebrate.”
As soon as Lando’s feet touch the asphalt, his legs buckle out from underneath him, and he collapses by the front left tire. He needs to get up, needs to pull his helmet from his head, and go celebrate in the arms of his team and his family. But here Lando is, his body wracked with sobs while he thanks every possible force in the universe that’s enabled him to get to this point.
The side of his car isn’t as blurry when Lando opens his eyes again and shoves his visor up, his knees not as shaky when he stands, leaning on the body of the car for support.
Across the way, his team looks like they’re barely holding themselves back from storming the track. Their self-imposed barrier breaks when Lando takes a step in their direction, his car crew rushing him and sweeping him off his feet. He may not be as small as he used to be, but the arms of the guys who have been with him for six years pick him up like he is, and all Lando can do is hold on.
The bone-crushing team hugs Lando has been subject to over the years don’t come close to now— not even on the back of his first podium in Silverstone the year before. But, he supposes, nothing really is quite comparable to actually beating the odds as they have throughout this year.
Everything from the last few years rushes to the surface— every emotion and catastrophizing thought. Every question he had about resigning or not looking elsewhere at a team that could take him to the top faster. They gave way to the base satisfaction that had come with improvements and with accurate correlations.
Every thought triggers another swell of emotion, but Lando can’t think about what he looks like in the midst of it.
Later, there will be pictures Lando will probably never want to see again when he takes his helmet off to reveal his already puffy eyes, red from crying, but he doesn’t think of that now. Because now, even with his mind solidly in the present, he can’t stop getting teary-eyed with each new person who comes to congratulate him.
And then Carlos is there, his person, finished with his own team and weigh-in, and it’s a lot.
Carlos’ eyes look almost as red as Lando’s feel, which is stupid because Carlos shouldn’t be the one crying, right? They’re only about five strides from each other, but Lando takes the distance in two and a half before he launches himself into Carlos’ arms, his legs coming up almost on instinct to wrap around Carlos’ hips.
Carlos seems to expect it thankfully, and they stay upright. Lando’s never felt more protected than he does right now. Strong and warm arms grip and wrap around his back with every ounce of strength Carlos has left after a grueling two hours in the car. They’re out in the middle of everyone with their image likely being broadcast across the world, and yet Lando can’t find it in himself to care about anyone but the way Carlos’ lips press against the side of his face, the barely audible, “You did it. My champion,” above all the noise.
Lando lets himself cry.
Someone breaks them apart eventually so that both of them can give their reactions on the finish to Coulthard, who’s standing a few feet away looking excited. The distance they put between themselves isn’t a lot, one of Carlos’ hands settles on Lando’s shoulders when Lando feels himself getting weak-kneed again while Carlos is talking. He wonders if he looks like he’s going to pass out or if Carlos is just that especially tuned to Lando.
He doesn’t wonder for long though before he’s being pulled to the camera and handed the microphone Carlos had just been holding.
This is the beginning of everything. The beginning of being a champion. The beginning of the rest of his career. Lando knows he’s ready for it.
#carlando#writing tag#filched this from a long-abandoned wip and fixed her up a bit#i cannot remember the rationale for who lando was going to be up against in the championship but i remember there was math involved#which is why it's like this and reflects 2022 standings#husbands™
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