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gag-me-munson · 1 year

Text

Prom Date

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!reader

Warnings: None really. Mentions of oral on Eddie but it's not explicitly written. Mostly fluff today.

"She was supposed to be here already," Eddie was frantic around the trailer. His Uncle, Wayne, trailing behind, "Or was I supposed to get her? How do these things even work?"

"Just settle down and let me fix your bow tie, boy." Wayne was huffing, slightly annoyed by Eddie's insecurities but also smiling through it because Eddie was finally doing something, well, normal.

Groaning loudly, Eddie hangs his head and walks towards his uncle and gritting his teeth. Prom was definitely not his idea of a fun time, but you had promised him road head to make up for it. Reluctantly Eddie agreed to this plan, but only after begging him for another five minutes.

"What if she doesn't like this stupid flower thing I got? You picked it out anyways, how about you go instead?" Eddie trying to get out at the last minute was so him. Especially for something that made him feel like more of an outcast.

"It's called a corsage, Eddie." Wayne mumbles and lifts his nephew's head up to fix the bow tie. "You said her dress was purple, right?"

"Well, she calls it lavender." Eddie says sarcastically, waving his hands in the air before running one through his hair, cursing under his breath and running straight back to the mirror to fix it. He wanted tonight to be over with already, to have you sneak back into his bed after a smoke and cuddle you.

"Well, white goes with anything," Wayne calls out after Eddie, "even lavender." He chuckles and after a moment there's a small knock at the door.

Wayne answers it and smiles when he sees you all dressed up. Sure enough, it's a lavender shade of purple, to the knees with ruffled sleeves. Small black heels adorn your feet and you have on one of your mother's necklaces.

"Well, darlin'," He grins broadly and ushers you into the small trailer, "don't you look nice. Eddie, your date is here, now leave your hair alone and get going!"

At first Wayne had been unsure of you, knowing the type of girl Eddie usually went for around the park, but after watching you help him not only with his homework but listen to his nephew go on and on about the latest dragons and dungeons- or whatever it was called, he didn't pay much attention- campaign, he changed his mind completely.

Eddie rushes past you to the fridge and quickly pulls out a plastic container. He shuffles towards you, blushing with ferocity so much that even his ears are red, and brings out the white rose corsage.

"I got this for you..." and as he takes it out of the packaging, Eddie places the beautiful flower around your wrist with a gentle ease.

"It's perfect, Eddie." You smile and lift his chin up so that his deep brown eyes meet your own. "Thank you."

He finally offers you his famous grin and nods fervently, "yeah, no problem."

"Alright kids, off you go before you miss the damn dance." Wayne hurries you both out as he lights the cigarette in his mouth, waving goodbye.

After helping you into the van, Eddie hops into the driver's side and starts up, turning the volume dial down.

You had offered, many times on the way, to give Eddie the road head you'd promised but in his words, "I'll fuck up the tux, I know it." And that was that.

Usually he had his free hand on your leg but tonight he was anxiously playing with the rings on that hand, biting his bottom lip and paying more attention to the road than usual. He was so nervous to be out of his element and around the "normal" kids that he just was shutting down.

"Why, Eddie Munson," you venture and take his hand into both of yours, "I have never seen you like this before. It's just a dance!"

"Yeah, just a dance," he scoffs and exhales loudly, "where everyone will be staring because I can't do that. Dance, I mean."

You kiss the top of his hand and let it rest on your lap, shaking your head, "I don't care about them. You shouldn't either. I'm going because I wanted to dance with you. To show you off because you are worth showing off, Eddie."

At the stoplight, Eddie seems to relax, his shoulders moving down from his ears and he looks at you quickly with a faint smile. "I love ya, babe." He grins and starts driving again after the go from green.

After the short drive and finding a parking spot nearer the back, away from the rest of the cars headed towards the school, Eddie gets out and comes to your side. He opens the door as you grab your dress and hop out, thanking him.

"Well, here we go." He sighs and offers his hand. You take it and give it a squeeze of confirmation, letting your boyfriend know that you're more than ready.

The music is loud and it's a faster song, most definitely pop music, too. You laugh at the look on Eddie's face before you point to where a line of people are waiting to get their portrait taken in front of a simple paper backdrop.

"Oh come on, we have to!" You say with glee and before Eddie can even begin to say "nope", you're dragging him to the line.

He is completely and totally out of his element and you can tell how nervous he is, so when it's your turn for a photo, you make Eddie stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. You look up and behind to him and smile brightly before the photo is taken and the girl taking them is now onto the next.

"See... that wasn't so bad." You grin and notice a slower song is finally on. His hand in yours, you take Eddie to the dance floor and stand in front of him.

"Now, I know you can do this. We've danced in the trailer hundreds of-"

You're cut off with a kiss and Eddie wrapping his arms around your waist, yours going around his neck. He's blushing again.

"No one needs to know what we do in private." He rests his forehead on yours and chuckles as you smile back.

Cyndi Lauper blares her "Time After Time." In the background and as clichéd and overplayed as it is, you can hear Eddie singing it to you in a near whisper of a voice. You pull your head away and look into his eyes, his watching you as his mouth sings the words to you, making you feel like the only person in the dressed up gym.

"If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time After time..."

School will be ending soon and who knows what will happen with you and this amazing boy, so you can only gulp hard, blink your oncoming tears away and hug Eddie close.

"I know we're young... and I know this is stupid, but I want you. Forever." He whispers your name into your ear and butterflies begin to spread throughout your stomach. Can he really be asking you-

"Be my wife. Please..." With now fresh tears you once again take a look into those beautiful and dark brown eyes, searching for the joke or at least the sarcasm.

"What'd you just ask me?"

With a newfound confidence, Eddie grins from ear to ear, picking you up so you can't run away when he loudly declares, "I love you and I want you to marry me!"

You're blushing now but your eyes still don't leave his, not even as the other people in the gym look or roll their eyes at the pair of you.

"Oh Eddie," you sigh dreamily as he sets you slowly down, "Eddie Munson, '86 is definitely your year."

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Tags: @after4evrr

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #I'm not too good at fluff #so be decent on me please #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction

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game-set-canet · 9 months

Note

Amazing to see your requests are open :) please may I have one with jealous Jannik! I don’t really have much context other than that… perhaps your relationship isn’t public so someone flirts with you at an event and he gets all puppy eyed sad? And you have to reassure him :(

I only see your face

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: it took me really long to write this because it honestly breaks my heart to think that Jannik gets sad 🙈 the imagine didn't work out the way I had planned it but i hope you like it, lovely anon 💕

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

The life of a tennis player is much more than playing matches and practicing every day. It also contains media work, photoshoots, sponsor events and doing things normal people don’t do. Like keeping your relationship a secret.

Jannik und you started dating three and a half months ago and you two are in a relationship for two months now. But your managers agreed that it would be strategically better to keep the relationship a secret: "We are currently looking for new sponsors, Y/N...it just works better if it looks like that you are concentrating completely and 100% on your career.”

Although you hate to admit it, your managers might be right: Apparently some people (and a lot of journalists) seem to think being in a relationship distracts you from playing tennis and no sponsor invests in distracted tennis players.

All these things mean that you had to go alone to the evening reception that the Italian sports federation organises for all tennis athletes. Usually you love events like this because they give you the opportunity to dress up and meet with all the other players off the tennis court.

You spend two hours getting ready for the evening: doing your make-up, dressing up in a wonderful dark green gown and a friend of you spend almost 30 minutes doing your hair.

You look amazing.

But you don’t feel like it.

Because you would prefer sweatpants, a messy hair bun and cuddling with Jannik on the ugly couch in your hotel room over this fancy evening event without Jannik.

Well, technically Jannik is here.

Looking really stunning in his dark blue suit. But since you are only allowed to look at him from distance and shouldn’t be near him, the evening will be anything but beautiful.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

After the official welcome ceremony you find yourself in a conversation with Matteo Berrettini, discussing the upcoming French Open, when Lorenzo Musetti joins you.

Lorenzo nods at Matteo before he turns to you and smiles broadly at you: “Y/N, you look really breathtaking tonight! The colour of your dress really brings out your eyes!”

You blink in surprise and clear your throat: “Uhm, thank you, Lorenzo…”, you feel your face heat up, “That’s really - uhm - nice of you.”

You give Matteo a help-seeking look, but he only looks at the other player, puzzled.

Lorenzo doesn’t notice your embarrassment as he continues talking while he steps closer to you: “You caught my eye the moment you walked in the room!”

You try to recreate the distance between you and take a step back, but bump into the edge of the table behind you. You can’t think of a thing to say since you are too confused: Why is Lorenzo flirting with you?!

It’s Matteo who breaks the silence: “Alright, I have to go! I need to talk with Jannik about swapping practise courts tomorrow!”, he smiles at both of you, although he still looks very irritated.

You curse Matteo on the inside: Why is he leaving you here alone now?!

Lorenzo doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t even pay attention at Matteo and just continues smiling at you.

“And I wanted to congratulate you on winning the tournament last week!”, he runs his fingers through his hair with an elegant gesture, “You played some incredible tennis – I watched all of your matches.”

From the corner of your eye you see Matteo approaching Jannik, talking to him while laughing before nodding in your direction.

You see how Jannik's facial expressions slip away as he stares at Lorenzo and you. At first he looked very confused and a bit angry but the moment Lorenzo winks at you all you can see in Jannik's face is sadness.

“I can’t wait for Roland Garros to start! It’s gonna be one hell of a tournament.”, suddenly Lorenzo steps in front of you, “And I’m sure you will play fantastic! You always do and-“

Although you can’t see Jannik anymore, your heart still aches because of the hurt expression on his face. Without thinking twice you interrupt Musetti: “Lorenzo, this is very nice of you but please stop it.” You try to give your words a sharp but polite undertone.

Lorenzo freezes and looks at you in shock: “I…okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to-” He is all red in the face and smiles insecurely.

“No, it’s not that…I mean, let’s forget it, okay? I-“, over his shoulder, you see Jannik leaving Matteo and walking through the crowd to the bar, you turn away from Lorenzo, calling back over your shoulder: “I have to go, I’m sorry!”

You don’t wait for Lorenzo to answer. You rush over to the bar while trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, you don’t want to attract too much attention.

“Hi!”, you almost whisper as you join Jannik at the bar.

His head snaps up, clearly surprised about you approaching him: “Hey Y/N”, he smiles at you – although you can still see the sadness in his eyes.

You close the distance between the two of you and lean against the bar, your shoulders are almost touching. You are hesitating for a moment before you take a deep breath and look at him: “Are you…is everything okay?”

Jannik closes his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together: “Yeah, sure, why not?”

He tries to sound completely calm and collected, but you can hear he is hurt.

You hate seeing him like this. You hate how he tries to cover his feelings.

“You know why.”, slowly you reach for his hand and hook your little finger with his.

For a second Jannik just stares at your intertwined fingers before he starts shaking his head: “There is- it’s…we shouldn’t talk. We agreed on pretending not to be…you know.”, he pulls his hand away, although you can see that he hates it.

“Jannik, Musetti was just-”

Jannik quickly interrupts you: “I…it’s ok.”, he avoids looking at you.

“No, it’s not!”, you try to lean closer to him, to tilt your head to finally catch his gaze, “I can see that it’s not.”

Only a few centimetres separate you from each other now. All you want is to hug him and tell him how sorry you are for this whole situation, that you couldn’t careless that Lorenzo Musetti was flirting with you and that he is the only one for you. Jannik seems to

Jannik seems to notice that you want to say something, because he steps aside and gives you a quick look: “Y/N, not here!”

You sigh deeply: “Ok…”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You leave the event only ten minutes after Jannik left. It took you only 20 minutes to head back to the hotel, take the elevator and finally knock on Jannik’s hotel room door.

Jannik immediately answers the door, still in his suit – he only untied the tie, which now hangs loosely around his neck.

You just looked at each other for a few seconds before you step into the room and hug him tightly. Your boyfriend pushes the door with one hand, which quietly falls into the lock before he wraps his arms around you.

For a few minutes you just stand there, holding each other close without saying a word. You buried your face in Jannik’s chest - even though you know you'll get make-up stains on his shirt – while Jannik’s cheek is pressed against your head.

“I hated this evening!”, Jannik is hugging you even tighter now, “You look so wonderful tonight, but I wasn’t able to spend time with you at the event and I hated it so much!”, he presses a quick kiss on your hair, “Everyone looked at you and admired you and…and Lorenzo…he-“

You lift your head to look him in the eyes: “He was flirting with me, yes, but…but he didn’t-”, you place your hand on his cheek and stroke it with you thumb.

“I know, it’s ridiculous that I act like this. I’m sorry, Y/N.”, he smiles sadly and takes a deep breath, “But he wanted to ask you out on a date…I know him well enough to be sure of that!”

“And I would have said no!”

“I know that but…I hate it that he thought about it.”, suddenly his cheeks turn red, and he clears his throat before he continues quietly, “I mean…I don’t want others to…to th-think about you.”

“But you're the only one I'm thinking about!”, you reply, your voice louder than before, “Even if all the players in the whole ATP ranking would ask me out on a date, I'd only say yes to you!”

Jannik winces at the thought of that but nods a little: “I know, I know…” But he still seems to be insecure about the whole situation.

So, you take his head between your hands and say: “Jannik, look at me!”, you wait until you look each other straight in the eyes, “I mean it! There is no reason for you to be jealous of anyone!”

“I know, I know…”

“I love you, Jannik.”

Slowly a smile comes over his face and he bend down to kiss you lovingly: “I love you too, Y/N.”

After some time you break the kiss and hug each other instead. There is one thing that - in your eyes – still needs to be said: “And it’s definitely not ridiculous that you feel this way!”, Jannik grins sheepishly at your words, “I know, I would become jealous as well if someone would be flirting with you…”

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

#jannik sinner x reader #jannik sinner imagine #jannik sinner x you #jannik sinner #jannik sinner fanfic #jannik sinner fic #tennis imagine #tennis fic #tennis fanfic #tennis imagines #tennis fics #tennis fanfics #tennis fanfiction #tennis fanfictions #my writing #my imagine #mira's imagines

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elisysd · 11 months

Text

Easy – Camila Cabello

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy

Hyde Park at this time of the year was beautiful. It was not summer anymore but fall was not there yet. It was a perfect in between. Strolling along the path, Charles and Lyanna were peacefully enjoying the end of the afternoon, hand in hand. The park wasn't too crowded, the usual tourists having deserted London a few weeks ago. Lyanna had spent the afternoon taking Charles to her favourite places in the English capital. A far cry from the tourist spots, for which Charles was grateful. He wanted to discover Lyanna's London, not the postcard version. He already knew that side of the city. And that had made the young woman happy. He had listened for hours to her tell him story after story. He couldn't help wondering if he too was like that when he talked about Monaco. Seeing her so passionate left a bitter taste in his mouth, a feeling of guilt he couldn't ignore. He couldn't see himself asking her to leave this city that had made her so happy for him. He knew it was something they would have to discuss sooner or later. How to deal with the distance. What to do about it. He knew that one of them would have to make a compromise if they wanted their relationship to last.

They ended up stopping in front of an ice cream shop. Lyanna turned to Charles with a big smile on her face. He found her adorable. She looked like a child on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa Claus. It was rare to see her like that, so carefree. They both ended up ordering two vanilla ice creams. If some people found that boring, they were far from it. As Lyanna had explained to Charles, the simplest things were always the best. And Charles could not disagree with her.

“Oh my god, Lyanna Michel?”

The actress turned around and came face to face with two teenage girls who couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. One of them took out her phone while her friend walked towards Lyanna, looking shy.

“Hello girls.” She greeted them.

“Oh my god, it’s really you!” exclaimed one of them.

“We’re huge fans of yours! Would it be possible to have a picture? It would mean a lot.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. What are your names girls?”

“I’m Lucy and this is Jasmine.”

One of them turned to Charles to ask if he could take the photo, which Charles gladly accepted. It wasn't every day that he was asked to stand behind the lens and not in front of it. Lyanna took the two girls by the shoulders and smiled broadly. They took a few shots before taking their phones back.

“Thank you so much! You’re like… my idol, I love you so much. It’s because of you that I want to be an actress. I aspire to be like you one day.” Confessed Lucy.

“Well Lucy, do you want some advice?” asked Lyanna.

Lucy nodded, eager to hear what Lyanna was about to say.

“Don’t try to be someone else. Be you. Always. If you want to follow this career path, that’s what you have to remember. Always be natural, it’s a field where everyone want to be someone else, what will make the difference is your authenticity. That and working hard.”

“Thank you for you time and I promise that I will remember that. Have a nice day!”

“You too girls.”

When they had gone their separate ways, Charles returned to Lyanna, handing her the ice cream she had set aside.

“You were great with them.” He said to her.

“Well, I try to. It does not happen often though, don’t worry.”

“My girlfriend is famous, that is something that I will have to remember.”

“Girlfriend, hum? I thought we agreed to not put any labels on ou relationship, yet.”

“Sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“I’m joking, Charles. I like it.” She confessed while slipping her arm beneath Charles’s.

“Thank God because I wasn’t really sorry and it was not really a slip of the tongue. I’m serious about us Lyanna. I don’t see myself with someone other than you. I don’t want to scare you away but…”

“You don’t. I’m not scared, strangely. I thought I would be but I feel fine about it. About us.”

“I’m glad. So does it mean that you will let me take you out on a proper date tonight? I was thinking about Italian food?”

“I would really like that to be honest and it’s perfect because my favorite Italian restaurant is not far away from the apartment.”

Once inside, Charles felt panic sweep over him. This wasn't the first time he and Lyanna had been alone together, but this time it was as a couple and not as friends. He was putting pressure on himself that he knew was unnecessary. As for Lyanna, she had locked herself in the guest room to get ready, leaving her room to Charles. If Charles was stressed, she was not; she felt serene. Charles already knew a lot about her and her past and he was still there, he hadn't run away. Her greatest fear had not been confirmed. She put on a bright red midi dress with puffed sleeves and applied the same colour to her lips before knocking on her bedroom door to see if Charles was all right.

When he opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. He knew Lyanna was beautiful, he wasn't blind, but seeing her in red disturbed him more than he cared to admit. His gaze riveted on her lips. Everything about her appearance invited him to give in to her. He cleared his throat to try to compose himself.

“Charles, are you okay?”

“Perfect. You sure you want to go out?”

“Did you change your mind?” she was suddenly worried he didn’t want to be seen with her.

“No. No absolutely not. It’s just… Fuck you’re gorgeous, Lya. I would rather have you all to myself right now than being out in public and not being able to touch you as I would love to right now.”

The young woman became as red as her dress as she slowly began to register what Charles implied. To avoid further embarrassment, she turned away from him to pick up her handbag. A small smile of pride stretched across the pilot's face as he discovered how much he enjoyed making her feel uneasy. Seeing her blush because of him gave him sensations he didn't find unpleasant.

The restaurant had a plant-based decor. Ivy surrounded the pillars supporting the ceiling and the place had a subdued, intimate atmosphere that the couple loved. The waiter took them to the back of the restaurant, to a table isolated from the rest of the room where they could be really at ease. As they sat quietly at their table, the waiter came back to them and, holding out the menu with a trembling hand, confessed to Charles that he was a fervent Ferrari fan and if the driver didn't mind taking a photo, he'd be happy to do so. With a broad smile Charles thanked him for his support and let him get his phone out to take a selfie. Wishing him a good end to the season, he went back to work, leaving them alone at last.

“Sorry about that.” He excused himself.

“I say it’s a tie, ball back into play. To use a sporting metaphor. And since you’re so good with balls…” she teased him referencing to his football skills.

“Are you mocking me, miss Michel?”

“Me? Mocking you? Never, I wouldn’t dare.” She looked at him with a malicious gleam in her eyes.

“You will laugh less when I’ll punish you.”

“And what are you going to do to me, hum?”

“Keep going and you’ll discover it soon enough, love.”

They kept teasing each other and laughing together for a while before moving to more serious topics and conversations.

“How do you feel about meeting my family, officially?” asked Charles

In a few days' time he and Lyanna would be flying back to Monaco to celebrate Charles' 26th birthday with his close family and friends. A big party was organised. A room in a luxury hotel in Monte Carlo had been rented and made private so that they could all get together. Pierre was invited too, and it wasn't stupid to think that Kika would be joining him. Lyanna was delighted at the prospect, looking forward to meeting up with the young Portuguese girl whom she considered to be the little sister she had never had.

“A bit stressed, I admit. I’ve never really met in laws before so it’s all pretty new to me.”

“Don’t worry, my mom is looking forward to meeting you. And you already know my brothers and some of my closest friends. You’ll be fine.”

“What if your mom doesn’t like me?”

“She will love you Lya. I don’t see why she would not. I’m happy with you and it’s all that matters to her.”

“Should I bring her a gift or something?”

“Hey, it’s my birthday. Not hers. Speaking of, can I have a hint on what you are going to give me?”

“Not even in your dreams, Leclerc. You will have to wait.”

“Bummer.”

The evening passed so quickly that soon it was just the two of them in the restaurant. It was as if they were in their own bubble, far away from everything and everyone, from problems and tensions. So much so that neither of them saw the paparazzi taking shot after shot from outside.

“I had an incredible time tonight Charles” admitted Lyanna as she walked through the door of her flat.

“Me too, but I'm glad to finally be alone with you.”

The young man approached the actress, grabbed her by the waist and gave her a slow kiss. Lyanna's arms naturally went first around the pilot's broad shoulders before settling in around his neck and playing with the hair at the base of his neck. She pressed herself against him a little harder, eliciting a groan from Charles.

“What are you doing to me, Lya?” the pilot muttered hoarsely.

“I could ask you the same question.”

The young woman's lips returned to Charles'. With a clumsy gesture he got rid of his jacket before doing the same with Lyanna's, which he threw into the corner of the room. With a clumsy hand, trying as best she could to stay in the warmth of the Monegasque's body, she got rid of her heels, which were hurting her feet. Losing her balance, she was barely caught by the pilot's firm hand.

“So eager. Be careful, Lya.”

Charles pulled her back against him before cupping his hands under Lyanna's thighs and lifting her onto the kitchen counter. The kisses and caresses became more urgent, clumsier. They became a combination of gasps, whimpers, and ruffled fabrics.

“Lyanna, babe. If we keep going, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself.” Warned her Charles between two kisses.

Her eyes clouded with desire and her breath coming in short gasps, Lyanna gently moved away from him, letting her head rest against his chest.

“You’re right. We should stop.”

“Yeah, we should.”

“But I don’t want to Charles.” She said looking at him determinedly in the eyes.

That’s all Charles needed to hear before pouncing on her. Between two tender touches, Charles carried Lyanna to the bedroom where he laid her more or less gently on the bed before joining her there. It soon became impossible to determine where one body began and the other ended. Under the light of the full moon, they became one.

Sore but satisfied, Lyanna woke up the next morning to Charles spooning her. She could feel the Monegasque's deep breathing against her neck and the warmth of his hands on her bare stomach. Trying as best she could to free herself and reach for her phone to check the time, she was surprised by the number of notifications waiting for her. After many contortions, she managed to free herself from her boyfriend's embrace. Without a sound she put on one of Charles's T-shirts and slipped out of the room to let him sleep.

It was the message from her best friend that caught her attention. A few words were written but just enough so Lyanna could get a hold of the situation.

Daily Mail. Paparazzi. You and Charles. (by the way you guys look so cute I want to throw up)

Her agent's message was much the same. Except that she asked him what Lyanna wanted to do. First of all, Lyanna decided to look at the photos to see for herself the extent of the damage. She had no trouble finding the article as it was trending on the internet.

She moves on as fast as a Ferrari

After denying rumours a few months ago that she was in a relationship with Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc and casting doubt on a potential romance between herself and her playing partner David Halloway, Lyanna Michel was spotted yesterday getting cozy with the Italian team's number 1 driver.

Lyanna read the article no further. There was no point, nothing good would come of it anyway. She didn't want to ruin her day with it. She wrote a quick reply to her manager asking her to let it go and prepared breakfast. The day was full enough for her as in the evening she was invited to an event with UNICEF, with whom she had recently become involved, to discuss the association's missions and set up new projects.

Charles woke up alone in bed, but with Lyanna's scent on him. Clumsily, while still asleep, he reached for his phone to check the time and, like Lyanna, found himself swamped by messages. When he realized what was happening, his first thought was for Lyanna. The last time the press had interfered in their relationship, they had been just friends, and that had already ended in tears and screams. He had no desire to see it happen again. Wide awake this time, he rushed out of the bedroom, dressed only in his boxer shorts, and found the young woman, smiling, making coffee and cutting fruit. The radio was playing softly in the background. He stopped dead in his tracks; of all the scenarios he'd imagined, the one before him wasn't one of them.

Swaying her hips to the music, she was completely in his world. The shirt rising dangerously high up her thighs made Charles swallow, images of last night flooding back into his mind. When she finally noticed him, she gave him a gentle smile before approaching him with a steaming mug in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other. She placed a light kiss on Charles's cheek, standing on tiptoe as she passed, and set up the table.

“You okay, Charles?”

“Yeah. It’s just. I was not expecting to see you like that, that’s all.”

“Why?” She asked laughing slightly.

“Have you seen the news?” he asked with caution.

“You mean the Daily Mail and the pictures? Yep I did.”

“And you are okay with it?”

“Does it make me happy that the paps caught us? Obviously not. But it was a risk and I know that being with you will bring attention, that’s something I came to term with. I made peace with the fact that no matter what we’ll do, people will talk and judge. It’s still not a nice feeling, but what can we do about it?”

“I… I definitely was not expecting to see you like that to be honest.” Admitted Charles.

“Oh, sorry. Do you want me to cry and push you away?”

“No absolutely not!”

“Thought so. And to be honest, after last night I feel so great that I don’t think anything or anyone can bring me down.”

“Glad to know that I made you feel like that. It’s flattering.”

She smacked him on the back of the head. They spent the morning and the day doing nothing but playing together, chatting and staying in bed. Then came the time for them to leave for the event. Dressed in a black jumpsuit for Lyanna, Charles having decided to wear an outfit of the same color, they set off.

It was an intimate event, with a few influential personalities, nonetheless. Lyanna met and chatted with some of the association's leaders, while Charles preferred to stay in the background and leave the young woman to her business. He found her attractive in the way she asked questions and mingled with people. He whispered a few words in her ear before heading for the buffet, where he had an unobstructed view of the room. His gaze never left Lyanna for a moment. He still found it hard to believe she was his. The more time passed, the less he felt like letting her go. He knew she'd come with him to Monaco the very next day to be there for his birthday, and then she'd come with him to Las Vegas too. But then he'd have to say goodbye, and that was a moment he dreaded.

A few minutes later, the young woman joined him, and he took the opportunity to hand her a glass of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres he'd set aside for her.

“Did I tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in the room?” he asked her leaning towards her to brush his lips against hers.

“Charles stop, we’re in public.” She scolded him, laughing.

“Let me be a proud boyfriend, okay?”

They were so much in their own world that Lyanna didn't hear someone approach her and greet her.

“Lyanna?”

At these words, she froze, her face suddenly pale. Slowly she turned around. In front of her, a young blond man with ice-blue eyes was staring at her, sincerely surprised to find her there.

“James?”

====

author's note: Happy quali day!! Hoping for a nice quali session for Charles and a good sunday. The Ferraris seem good even though we all know that we don't have the right to be happy when we support FerrarI, so let's not get our hopes up. I really loved writing this chapter and hope you like it as well! Let me know what your thoughts are, as usual I love interacting with you and reading your reactions. It always makes me happy.

taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #fiction #writing #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc blurb #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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twstinginthewind · 5 months

Text

Had a little private Secret Santa Story exchange w friends; by the luck of the dice, I got assigned to write a story for my bestie, @twst-the-night-away ! So, I did a Cater🧡Savvy story, before they get serious about one another. Merry Christmas, Daisy!

2100+ words. Cater-centric fluff just for Savvy, teeheeeee~. Cameos from the PMC and Trey. Music included in links towards the end. Happy reading!

A gift that’s uniquely you

“... and tbh? It’s not like I’m, like, actually competing with anyone? But it’s totes like a competition. And I don't want to come up short.”

The three members of the Pop Music club sat around the small club room table, deep in discussion over snacks and canned beverages. Cater idly adjusted the strap of his guitar, looking over at his clubmates with a pleading expression, and went on. “I just wanna get Savvy the perfect Christmas present. I’ve only got a week to come up with a real show-stopper. And I don't really know what I’m doing. I'm smelling a Top Ten Holiday Disasters in my future….”

“I think what you’re smelling might just be Lilia’s homemade trail mix,” Kalim piped up, then covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. “Oop! Ahaha. Sorry, Lilia! I mean…”

The little fae chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s all right. I agree the feta cheese may not have been the wisest choice. It doesn’t seem to keep as well as the other ingredients. I only had it in the cupboard for a month...”

In a single motion, Cater and Kalim reached out and pushed the dish of trail mix further from where they were sitting. Lilia rolled his eyes at them. “That said.” He sat back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the body of his bass guitar. “In regards to your conundrum, Cater. While I do realize that the young lady you wish to impress is also receiving gifts from some rather generous individuals, are any of them approaching her with the same sentiment as yourself?”

“The same sentiment? I, um…” Cater’s face flushed red, nearly obscuring the diamond marking on his cheek. “Hehe. Well, I don't really know. But #AllsFair, am I right? If I happen to get an edge over someone else, sorry, but not sorry. I just need something really memorable, that Savvy’s gonna really like. Bonus if it's a ‘cammable moment, right? Something to look back on and def remember as one of the best gifts ever.”

“Okay Cater! That’s a great starting point!” Kalim bounced in his chair, smiling broadly. His eyes gleamed. “Now where do you go from there? Will it be a beautiful pet tiger cub, maybe? Oh, or maybe some breathtaking jewelry? A trip to a private island? Custom couture?”

“Easy, Kalim, easy!” Cater held up his hands. “I'm not exactly a one percenter, you know. I gotta work within a budget.” He shook his head, and tucked a loose strand of ginger hair behind his ear. “Besides, those gifts are all kind of…” His voice faded off, and he tapped his chin thoughtfully before continuing. “...kind of a big deal. For a really serious relationship.”

“And, I would assume, you are not quite that serious with the girl?” Lilia tilted his head. “I think I would have recalled if you mentioned having a girlfriend, after all.” His nose crinkled in an impish expression. “None of us have left our bachelor life behind us just yet. Unless you're hoping this will catapult you into the Taken Man category.” Lilia put a hand over his heart, and leaned towards his cheerful, white-haired companion. “Oh, Kalim. He's so young, and he's leaping into this romantic dream. Leaving us single men behind!”

“Does that mean you won't come to club anymore?” Kalim looked panicked. “Oh no, Cater! You're our best guitarist!”

“I'm the only guitarist, Kalim. But I’m not going anywhere!” Cater looked at his phone and sighed. “Aw, man. Club meeting time is almost over. Let’s get all this cleaned up. Listen, can you guys text me if you have any more ideas?”

“Sure thing, Cater!” Kalim bounced up, brushing some crumbs off of his sweater. “I hope you find something extra-special. But don’t forget us when you're off in Boyfriend Town!!”

“Some men never come back,” Lilia deadpanned. “But I hear it's quite the way to go…”

“You two are a couple of real pieces of work, you know that? Absolute knuckleheads, fr.” Cater slipped his guitar back into the gig bag and cleared some trash off the table. “Thanks for letting me get that off my chest, at least.”

The club members finished getting their space back in shape and headed back to the mirror chamber, bidding each other farewell before traveling to their respective dorms. Cater walked down the path towards the main hall of Heartslaybul, breathing in the thick scent of roses that always hung in the air. He was no closer to solving his gift-giving problem.

Another scent beckoned to him beneath the ever-present roses, and he let that guide his steps. Something savory was being prepared in the dormitory kitchen, an unusual switch from the usual parade of sweets that Heartslabyul was known for. His curiosity piqued, Cater stepped into the warm, cozy room, waving cheerily at a giggling curly-haired freshman who greeted him on her way out. Inside, he saw his friend Trey pulling a baking tray from one of the big steel ovens.

Cater dropped into a chair. “Whatcha working on, bestie? Whatever it is, it doesn't smell half bad. Maybe it’ll help me recover from Lilia’s idea of snacks…”

Trey looked over his shoulder and smirked, his glasses glinting in the warm light. “They’re for tomorrow's afternoon tea, Cater, and I’m not offering previews. But it’s cheese and onion scones.” He placed the hot tray onto a cooling rack and slid his oven mitts off. “I hope I got the flavor right this time. I was working on a couple of variations with Joker, since she was assigned kitchen duty today.”

“I saw her on my way in. You made her miss her club meeting, mister Vice Housewarden.” Cater leaned back on the wooden kitchen chair, balancing it on its back legs as he sat. “Not that we got much done, as usual.”

“Spent the time gossiping again?” Trey stepped behind Cater, and gently but firmly put his hands on the chair back. “Come on, now . You’ll break the chair.”

“Ugh, fine, Mom.” Cater repositioned the seat to its normal standing, then sat up exaggeratedly straight with his hands folded in front of him. “Is that better?”

Trey sat across from Cater as he straightened up. “Won’t earn you a scone, if that's what you were hoping for. What do you guys talk about every day, anyway, that keeps you from making any actual music? I couldn't imagine the science club getting so distracted.”

“That may be because you’re all nerds, /aff.” Cater relaxed his posture. “Naur, but fr, I was actually attempting to get advice from the boys. I know, me, admitting a problem? It's more likely than you think.”

A green eyebrow delicately raised behind heavy glasses frames. “Interesting. And here I thought you were maintaining that carefree façade campus-wide.”

“I’m getting less cautious in my old age?” Cater offered, shrugging. “It wasn’t THAT deep. I was just complaining about how I can't figure out a decent Christmas present for Savvy. You know, the same thing I bitched about with you last night.”

“You didn’t go for the water flosser? Shocking.”

“Again? The depths of your nerdity constantly astound and baffle me.”

Trey shrugged. “It’d be unique and show that you care. Ticked off all the boxes, in my opinion.”

“Except for it being fun, Trey.”

“I thought it was fun.”

Cater sagged slightly. “Yes, but you're definitely not the target audience that I’m aiming for. Think sweeter, cuter, blonder.”

Trey reached across the table to pat Cater’s hand. “I already told you before. The best thing to do, if you want to be impressive at this gift-giving game, is to give something that no one else can. Something uniquely Cater.”

This time, a ginger eyebrow rose. “You look at me and tell me; are you following your advice for your own gift exchange, buddy?” Cater drew his hand back cagily. “Are you doing something unequivocally Trey for your special little bae?”

“I don't have anyone fitting that description,” Trey said with a straight face. “But I do end up giving people a lot of homemade sweets as gifts. It’s something that’s a part of me, kinda. And that makes it special.” His voice lowered to a bare whisper. “And I’ve got a private baking lesson lined up for the ‘special bae’ that I certainly don't have.”

Cater smirked. “You sly dog. Something that’s a part of me, huh? But I don’t make anything special, anything OOAK like you do.”

“Don't you?” Trey pointed markedly at the gig bag and shrugged. “I could have sworn you were a member of our elite arts community.”

Cater sat a moment with his mouth agape, dumbfounded. “... actual galaxy brain thinking, Trey. OM7. Memorable, unique, ‘cammable, and hella budget-friendly.”

“Not as practical as the water flosser though,” sighed Trey.

“Enough with the water flosser.”

“But it works so well.”

“Trey.”

“Sorry.” Trey adjusted his glasses and snickered. “Anyway. I have to start getting those scones onto a rack to cool. I’ll make sure you get one tomorrow, okay? Now, go put together your gift. If she doesn't love it, let me know so I can shake my head in disbelief.”

“Yes, sir, vice-housewarden, sir!” Cater offered Trey a mock salute as both boys rose. They gave each other a complicated handshake-to-hug maneuver, ending with a back pat, before going their separate ways. Cater rushed up the complex series of staircases to his dorm room, and brought the guitar back out. He was already starting to get some ideas….

The next few afternoons, Cater rushed back to the dormitory after classes, and shut himself into his room. It was a lucky thing that, as a third year, he didn’t have to worry about roommates, because he found himself staying up until all hours practicing the same few bars over and over, trying to make everything sound just right. As it stood, he only had to deal with angry pounding on his wall once, before he figured out he could run his old wired headphones through his amp.

Finally, he sat back onto his bed. He tapped his phone screen a few times, and listened to the playback. Perfect. Perfect! He almost couldn't believe it was him he was listening to. Maybe I should start taking this whole music thing more seriously, after all, he mused.

Despite the lateness of the hour, he sent a quick text message to Savvy.

> Hey! Meet me 4pm in the pmc club room. I have something for u!

There, he thought, and he put his phone down on the bedstand to change into his pajamas. He had just pulled the shirt over his head when he heard the tell-tale ping! of an incoming message.

> I have something for you, too! I’ll bring it with me. See you then!

Well. All right. Cater smiled to himself as he slid into bed, exhausted but content. Tomorrow, he would give Savvy the most impressive gift she ever got.

The next day, classes couldn't end soon enough. Cater fidgeted anxiously through each period, watching the clock as if it were slowing down just to spite him. In his last lesson of the day, the moment that Professor Trein lifted his head and said, “That will be all, thank you,” Cater was out the door and on his way to the club room.

He hurriedly set up his equipment. Amplifier turned on, phone and guitar plugged in, levels checked, tuning done, tiny party lights set to sparkle, Santa hat positioned just so over artfully tousled hair; everything was perfect. Now all that remained was to wait.

At 3:59, he heard steps coming down the hall. Cater sat up a little straighter. Now, it was his chance to make Savvy feel really special. His hand hovered above his phone, waiting. And when she walked through the door, all beautiful smiles and shining eyes and with sweet anticipation on her face, Cater took his chance. He tapped play on his backing tracks, and started to play.

As the notes poured from his guitar, he felt more comfortable and more himself than he had in a long time. It was almost like the feeling he got when he was skating, pulling off a long rail grind or a sick jump. It was freeing, genuine. Even through the cliched holiday songs, Cater could feel his own heart beating; he hoped that Savvy would feel it, too. It was almost magical. This was something he could give that was uniquely him. And he hoped she could appreciate that.

Song 1 • Song 2

When the last few notes faded away, and all that remained was the crackle of the amplifier, Cater looked up at Savvy and took a deep breath. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered. “Merry Christmas…”

#i left the ending open to have Savvy's response be from her own imagination 🩷#merry christmas daisydoo! love you #twisted wonderland #story #cater diamond #kalim al-asim #lilia vanrouge #trey clover #and brief mentions of our ocs #savvy laperle #joker carder

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aristocratic-otter · 1 year

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Woohoo, I'm down to five WIPs again! (Ok, at least two are waiting in the wings. But I officially haven't started writing those yet, so they don't count.) It's late, but I haven't posted in forever, so I'm determined to do that today.

It's been a long time since I posted, and so much glorious work has gone up in that time. Friends, your talent humbles me, and at the same time makes me so proud of the brilliancy of this fandom. Thank you to @cutestkilla, @palimpsessed, @blackberrysummerblog, @nightimedreamersghost, @fatalfangirl, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @shemakesmeforget, @artsyunderstudy

Snippets and tags under the cut

From: To Heal a Broken Mind (House AU):

“I regret…I regret so many things. But, most of all, I regret pushing you away. Making you think I hated you. Making you feel less.”

He looks surprised. “Making me think you hated me? You didn’t hate me?”

I shake my head. “I never did. I just…there were so many outside influences in my life, people I desperately wanted to please or impress, and being friendly with Mage’s chosen one would have made those people very unhappy. I’m sorry. I should have made my own decisions about how to act. But I was young, and stupid.”

“We both were, Baz,” Simon says, and he reaches out a hand and lays it over mine. It’s warm and soft. It’s clearly been years since he used it in the kind of manual labour and exercise that used to make his skin hard and calloused. I stare at it. “I was a prat to you, too. I gave as good as I got, honestly. We were both immature brats. I stopped blaming you for that years ago, Baz.”

“I—” I clear my throat, trying to pull back the tears that burn my eyes at his forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I’ll take it. I try again. “I want to try again, Snow. Try to be friends, I mean. If you’re willing to give me another chance.”

Simon smiles broadly, and this time there’s no hint of sadness in his face. “I’d love to, Baz.”

If my heart wants to hear those words as “I love you, Baz,” I’ll never tell.

From: Raising Dragons

I’m desperate enough that I’ve even asked Shepard Bunce for advice. He was the least comforting of all. “I don’t know too many hybrids,” he told me. “And they were all creature/normal hybrids, not creature/mage hybrids. But I do know that the creature powers and instincts were reduced in the hybrid offspring. Like the Jersey devil’s two kids can only make folk anxious with their screams, not out-of-their-mind-with-terror like the screams of their monster parent.”

From: Double Your Pleasure (EGF 2023, posting next week)

Suddenly, I need to see his beautiful eyes. “Baz…” I whisper.

His long, thick black eyelashes quiver, and his pale pink tongue peeks out of his mouth long enough to glide wetly over his lips. Slowly, so slowly, he tilts his head towards me and, when he’s finally facing me, his eyes flicker open. They’re misty with pleasure and so dilated I can only see a ring of pewter around the black irises, but I feel my heart settle into a more contented rhythm once I can see them.

“I love you,” I whisper.

From: Westward Son (COTTA 2021)

Penelope’s alive and that’s the most important thing, I tell myself as we make the last few short crossings, from island to island and island to shore. I don’t tell Simon that. I know he’d agree with me, but he loved those animals. He’d given them all names and he’d cared for them and babied their every hurt. His face has been drenched with tears on top of river water ever since he realized.

From: Saving Simon Snow

Simon

Two days ago, I was certain I’d be dead of deliberate starvation by now. Two hours ago, I was certain that Baz’s plan had no chance of working, that he’d doomed himself along with me.

Now? I’m certain of nothing.

I just know that Baz’s life rests on me convincing him to go through with this. I know he hates me. I know that being married to me is probably revolting to him. But I noticed what Baz apparently did not. I am magically cursed to not be able to be unfaithful to him. Baz is not under any compulsion at all.

Even if I’ll never be happy, even if Baz is forced to keep me hanging around, a perpetual roommate, he can still find love in someone else’s arms.

From: A secret project, gift fic for members of the discord valentine's exchange (will be posted on AO3 once everyone has gotten their valentines:

“Whoa,” Simon breathes. “D’you think it was real dragons? And are they still there?”

“Not likely,” I answer him. “This city has been settled for far too long for any dragon to be comfortable near it, I think. But they may have been here in the distant past. It was in this region where St. George reputedly slew a dragon. Though those old Christian priests were infamous exaggerators. Probably George fought a crocodile or a monitor lizard.”

Tagging for Wednesday, or just passing along a belated happy Valentine's day to you all, everyone above as well as

@annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @excalisbury, @fight-surrender, @fatalfangirl, @facewithoutheart, @giishu, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @johnwgrey, @jbrrring, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @messofthejess, @moodandmist, @martsonmars, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @theearlgreymage, @technetiumai, @tea-brigade, @whogaveyoupermission, @whatevertheweather, @yellobb-old, @yeonjunenby

#COTTA 2021 #egf2023 #xanadu Au #Valentine's day #Forced Marriage #Dragon Babies #wip wednesday #co/ws/awtwb #simon snow series

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idsb · 4 months

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Like the other anon said, it's not my place so feel free to tell me to stfu but as someone who has gone through a similar struggle in the recent past, I agree with them that this decision should be purely about you, not your partner. Like I understand that he is going through a rough time at the moment, but I'll be real with you, I think as is you've already done him a massive favour paying 25% rent for a place you're not living in and more broadly, this is your life you're talking about. I've been following you for half a decade now and in that time, a huge dream of yours has always been living in Australia, and even now, when you had the most god awful (but ironically/affectionately enough I'd argue also the most Australian) start in Australia, you've said you feel like you found the place you belong and somewhere that feels so easy to be. That's rare, especially for people who have strained relationships with their family (something I relate to you with and was a big factor that people didn't often consider in my decision. not saying it is for you, but it could be) and I think it's worth holding onto, when the alternative is 'going back home for one thing [him]'.

In saying that, is there any chance that long term (I understand him not wanting to come now given his friends' condition) he would be willing to move to Australia? Because, and I recognise that this may be unfair given we get your side and not his on here, it feels like every choice about the both of yours future (getting back together, whether to stay in Australia etc) has been on your shoulders/your burden to carry. Like you either have to choose one or the other while he gets everything with no compromise if you go back. Like I know my partner at the time was not up for it, but eventually came around when he realised that it's what I needed, so if that is an option at all, that could also be worth exploring. Anyway I feel like I'm ranting now but yeah, whatever you choose, just make sure it's for your benefit not his because it's your life.

Hmmm since we share the apartment and only just moved in together before I bought the plane tickets, idrk if me not dumping the whole rent on him is a favor - if feels like he’s doing ME a favor by us keeping it, me having a home to go back to, etc, when he really can’t afford to pay that much. It feels like it’d be really mean of me to just leave and say “you pay for this I’m not even here” but idk.

It makes me so 🥺🥺 to think about you following me for half a decade and how LONG that is, thanks for saying that. I have always found the “found family” concept really beautiful and have absolutely never ever had it until I met the housemates I have now, so you’re sooooo right about that point.

I agree with you that a lot has been on me, but unfortunately he’s not interested in moving here. Which, it sucks because he’s not particularly passionate about a reason why, just general making it clear he would never want that and isn’t interested. Probably because he actually likes his family and has a lot of friends (unrelatable fshhdjdjkek) so like most normal people wouldn’t want to leave that. And his career - which to be fair, until I got here and was pushed to the breaking point with it this year, I also was like I couldn’t!1!1!!1 my career!!1!1!!! I’m really happy for you and it’s really inspiring that your partner wound up feeling that way.

Thanks for being here bestie and thank you so very much for this message and taking the time to send it. This was really helpful to read and sort out my thoughts a little more 🥺🥺🥺

#long post

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 3 months

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@monthly-challenge 2024 | 12. Compliments

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,085

Patience tied up her hair, squinted at it in the mirror and tried it again. It was still crooked, and didn’t sit nicely, like she’d hoped.

“Do you need a hand?” asked Rhona, as she entered the room. She seemed on the tail end of a laugh, as if there had been something very funny just said.

“I would love one,” said Patience. “I really need about three, one to wield a hairbrush, and one to tie it up, and the third to hold it to be tied in the first place.”

“Let me try it.” Rhona wielded the hairbrush and elastic with expert hands, and presently produced an extremely passable-looking ponytail. “Why do you want to be particularly pretty today?—Don’t tell me, it’s Nathan.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “We’re getting not-engagement photos done.”

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this until just now. You did say not engagement, right? He still hasn’t engaged himself to you?”

“He has not.” Patience laughed and pushed a satin-sleek lock of hair back. “Nor do I anticipate it any minute now.”

“You sure this isn’t actually an engagement photoshoot that he just forgot to mention? Sure he isn’t whipping out the ring during it?”

“Well, if he does, then it’s not something I anticipate at all.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your hair down? It looks so pretty when you do.”

“Don’t flatter me! It’s simply not voluminous enough; not like yours.” “Yours is gorgeous! I’m sure—” She cut herself off. “Never mind, that joke didn’t need saying.”

“Okay, then…?” Patience replied, a little confused. “Anyway, I figured I’d tie it back because then it won’t get in my face.”

“It’s going to be so beautiful.” Rhona removed the elastic despite Patience’s protests, and began to brush her hair. “Should I come with you so you can have it properly brushed just before you enter the studio?”

“‘Enter the studio’… that sounds so frightfully posh.”

“Frightfully,” agreed Rhona lightheartedly. “Terribly. Amazingly.”

“In answer to your question….” She ignored the ribbing and subsequent laughter. “If you put the brush in my bag probably Nathan will brush it again.”

“That sounds awfully romantic.” Rhona sighed softly. “What do I have to do to land a boyfriend as nice as yours, Patience?”

She shrugged broadly, nearly knocking the brush from Rhona’s hands. “Blowed if I know. He just showed up one day and wanted to marry me.”

“Wanted to marry you—!”

“Okay, I may be summarising. He wanted to go out with me, so I said yes, just to see how it worked. Turns out it works real well.”

“You’ve been dating for over a year now, because it was around Christmas last year, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, so that makes it—what, coming up on fourteen months now?” “That’s a long time to be dating, you know.”

“Eh, not so long as you might think?” Patience put on a necklace—a delicate silver thing which had her name on a small silver bar—and smiled perfunctorily into the mirror. “Yes, we know each other a lot better than we used to, but that still doesn’t mean that we’re ready to get married. Far from it, in fact. I don’t think we’d be ready to be married in a year’s time. Though if he asked me, I’d probably say yes, even if it came with conditions.”

“All your best years!” bemoaned eighteen.

“I have plenty of better years to come,” said wiser nineteen.

“Isn’t nineteen the best age to have children, though?”

“Biologically, maybe: socially and all the rest of it, including maturity level, probably not. There’s always an age at which you can be more something, or something else. Ultimately, I’d be not looking to have children immediately if I was to marry now, which I’m not.” She emphasised the last word, smiling at Rhona.

Rhona sighed. “At my age, you were only three months away from finding a steady boyfriend. I don’t see any of that happening anytime soon.”

“And that’s okay,” said Patience firmly, then hugged her younger sister. “Everyone’s timeline is different. I will say that at your age I didn’t expect to find a boyfriend anytime soon either, and it was out of the blue: but also, consider Paul.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” she said, sadly.

“Of course I was! The thing is, dear heart, easy as it may be for me to say (and I know it’s not easy to do), you need to try and be content in whatever stage of life you’re in right now. Having a boyfriend isn’t all kisses and sweet things. There are hard conversations, and you carry the other person’s burdens as well as your own, sometimes. I can’t tell you what, of course, but that’s very much true. Please don’t feel like you’re unwanted, Rhona. You’re very much wanted, despite the fact that no boy has yet noticed this of you.”

Rhona sighed and hugged her. Patience returned the hug. “It’s just hard,” she said.

“I know. And I’ll pray for you.”

“Thanks.”

“The time is such that I should scram,” said Patience, suddenly noticing the aforementioned time. “Cram that brush in my bag, and I’ll skedaddle.”

Nathan was picking her up in his new—secondhand—car, and Patience came in a whirl of blue satin skirts and satin-smooth hair, sliding hurriedly into his car. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she apologised.

“Hence why I left fifteen minutes extra in the planning phase, in case you were,” he said, sparkling-eyed. “You’re looking beautiful today, Patience.”

“Thanks.” She had had a year of acclimatising herself to his compliments, and while they still made her want to retreat inside her shell and freeze him out over it, she was more and more used to just accepting them at face value. For whatever reason, Nathan actually cared about her.

Which was just as well, because she cared about him, too.

“You’re looking very dapper also,” she added, taking in for the first time the sight of her boyfriend in a spotted blue bowtie. “I love your bowtie.”

“Thanks, I love it too. I colour-matched it, even.”

“Impressive. How’d you know I’d wear this?”

“It’s the thing that looks prettiest on you. I thought it was likely enough. Also I bought six others just in case.”

She stared at him. “You’re crazy.”

“I know.” He smiled, charmingly. “And you love me for it.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted, and just before he started up the car again she kissed him quickly.

Tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin @pilgrimsofworship@noisette-tornade and @choasuqeen

#I wanted a stupid kristoff-frozen-two scene where he’s fumbling with the ring and she keeps accidentally messing it up #but then I ran out of word count #so have this even tho it wasn’t that #and barely any nathan/patience #I do like the stuff with rhona though #like it needed to be said #Anyway didn't post earlier bc of power and internet outage sorry y'all #februfluff2024 #nathan #patience

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emeritus-fuckers · 5 months

Note

Hello! This is my entry for the match-up event:

1. I use she/her pronouns and I am a cis woman. I am also straight both sexually and romantically (I just think men are neat)

2. I would like to be paired up with one of the Papas, please

3. For my physical appearance, I am 5'6, my body type is average I'd say, I'm more flat chested/thinner around my torso and thicker around the thighs and bottom. I have blue eyes, chin length brown hair that's oftentimes up in a ponytail whenever I go out and an undercut. Style wise, I really like wearing vintage/more formal wear, such as blouses with big sleeves (even better when they go higher up the neck), high waisted pants or ankle length big skirts, vests, and some nice dress shoes or boots. I almost always have a necklace and a dangly earring on one ear to go along with my outfits.

4. I'm more on the quiet and introverted side. Especially around people I don't know and haven't met before. I can tend to be socially awkward at times. It takes a bit of time to warm up to and really express myself around others. Once I am comfortable around someone though, I love spending time with them. I like being kind and generous to others and I am very loyal to those that I am close to. I like to see my friends happy and to make them laugh and I'll easily do anything for them if they ask.

5. For hobbies, I am big on music. I am passionate about the bands/artists I listen to and I love to share music with others. Genre wise I like rock from all different decades and funky indie music, though I listen to all sorts of different genres. I also like to create traditional art, and the mediums I use are pencil, fine line pens, and I'm now starting to get into watercolor. I like to do more realism type drawings. I like to read a good book every now and then I enjoy playing video games if I have a good enough amount of free time to do so. I also have a few little collections of different things and I'm always on the lookout to add onto them. I also like to watch movies, especially with others so we can make comments on what we're watching.

6. I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to fruit juices/smoothies and ice cream. My love languages are quality time and physical touch (I am a bit touch starved, unfortunately). I'm not the best gift giver, but I really like to create or handmake something for people as a gift. I tend to get stressed and anxious too easily and overthink and it's something I'm trying to work on. I also really like uncommon pets, it's so cool to get to interact with animals I don't see all that often in person.

Thank you so much! (Apologies if it's a little long)

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is...Papa Emeritus IV

The first things Copia noticed about you was your blue eyes, shining bright like the Morning Star and how your smile would make his heart flutter. You’d only met a few times briefly, but during those times you’d both talked about movies and video games.

That evening you strolled through the cloisters on the way to get food, your breath hanging heavy in the crisp winter air. You paused to look through the arches onto the lawn and then up. The dark night sky glimmered with small pin pricks of light, the sheer depth of it entranced you.

“Beautiful isn’t it cara… it would be easy to just look at it all night sì?” You looked accross to see Papa Emeritus IV, he looked stunning in his glittery red jacket. He had his Papal paints on and you just stuttered some kind of response. He gave you the warmest smile you’d ever seen. “I err” he added, then he too fell silent.

A small little nervous rat noise escaped him before he said “It’s okay, I am err how should I say, not the best in social situations either. But I’ve been meaning to ask… would you like to come with me to get some food? A date perhaps?” His shifts a little waiting for your response. You happily agree and he smiles broadly.

You can relax around him, despite him being Papa you can see the man underneath it all and he is very easy to get on with. He makes you a mixtape of his favourite music and when you do the same for him he gets very excited. He’ll play it when you aren’t around and he misses you, mainly when he is stuck at work.

He adores your art, he finds it interesting to watch how you go from a blank page to the finished work. He asks if you can draw him and his rats, that becomes slightly tricky as even his favourite rat won’t sit still.

He understands what it’s like to get stressed and anxious. He’ll do anything he can to support you with that and he’s really easy to talk to about it. If he sees you getting anxious, if it helps you, he’ll wrap his arms around you and hold you close. “I’m here for you cara” he’ll kiss the top of your head. “Just tell me what I can do to help and I will”

You spend evenings together snuggled on the sofa playing video games or watching movies. When it’s a movie night Copia will sneak into the Ministry kitchens and take the largest and nicest tub of ice cream he can find back to his rooms for you two to share.

Written by Nyx

#anon #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus iv #copia x reader #copia #papa iv #match up event #match up #papa emeritus iv x reader

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an-asuryampasya · 1 year

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thinking about recipes that taste different in every home, differing with each hand that makes it. how there can be so many different foods all sharing the same name, even within a single culture.

except not in a wow-cultural-variations-are-beautiful-way, but more along the lines of how they can inspire pure, distilled disappointment (or rage) in ways few other things in life can.

the dish stays the same, the ingredients stay the same, the cooking method stays the same - so you hear of [dish] and are briefly filled with hope and longing. bonus points if you're living away from home and you haven't had a chance to eat said dish for months or years. and!! here it is!! you've diligently avoided eating said dish at random restaurants over here because you just know (usually from prior experience) that they'll absolutely ruin it, so you're better off abstaining. or maybe it's the kind of dish that ISN'T available at restaurants, and your only hope is plotting and making friends with the right people that have family visiting in the vague hope that they're the kind to delight in plonking food into hands of "these students living all alone and so far from home :(" (nvm the fact that you saw said friend having the TIME of her life all this time because she's finally in a city with better food outlets than her hometown) (yes, I am aware that this is getting suspiciously specific at this point, shush)

so anyway, the food. it paid off! you put in the legwork and suffered through the appropriate number of awkward conversations with friends' parents who REALLY don't know you as well as they like to pretend they do, gave the right number of fake totally-not-awkward smiles, and now!! they're INSISTENT you join them for lunch because they brought [dish] from back home! and fuck, it's been literal MONTHS since you've had this last, AND they're from broadly the same culture as you so really, surely you can trust them to mean it when they call what they've brought [dish]. your eyes gleam and you agree, because oh man it's been so long and you just know it's going to be so good and the anTICIPATION is-

and then you take one bite and question your life's choices and experience a moment of unadulterated bafflement and abject loss because this was the first time you've had [dish] outside of your home and you didn't realise people used the same name for ATROCITIES like the kind you're attempting to eat now. it looks wrong, smells wrong, and tastes dreadfully wrong. this isn't [dish]. this isn't just a disappointment after all the build-up and hope you had. this is an insult. this is an embodiment of the sheer disrespect they have for the dish.

you realise then that ah, turns out disappointment actually DOES have a very distinct taste, and you just got acquainted with it. you wonder how they managed to ruin it so spectacularly. how!!! why???? literally WHAT lengths did they have to go to in order to manage to make [dish] taste so alien???

anyway, that feeling. few emotions I've experienced in life were as potent as that welling up of abject horror and sorrow as I tasted the first long awaited morsel of a beloved dish made in a different style (an objectively WRONG style /lh)

#this is about gongura pachadi (a type of pickle)#i will. readily sell an appendix for some good gongura pachadi #the images ddg provides when I look it up on the interwebs look terribly questionable so ignore them #and take my word for it when I say it looks much better and tastes excellent #well I love the taste anyway #anyway i have and will eat it literally every single day - multiple times a day actually - if i can #i didn't have it for two whole days recently and i missed it so much (it was just sitting in the fridge but that's not the point)#so i had it again today and life suddenly made sense again :]#but it reminded me of the time my roommate's parents brought their version of gongura and it was. good lord. so wrong on so many levels #i'm sure they feel the same about the version we make but shushhhh #oh also the name is fascinating #telugu has this interesting thing going on with corruption of words #and gongura is another example because while i /write/ gongUra i tend to pronounce it as something closer to gongOra #but telugu is a phonetic language! so idk why this happens but it's with a lot of words. see also: writing being 'vrayatam' but pronounced #'rayatam' by dropping the 'v' sound; or katuka (that's kohl) being pronounced katika by some (me)#where was i going with this - oh yeah it's interesting because we already have accommodations for word corruptions in our grammar #but this is a different kind or something? problem is that my telugu is pretty sucky so im not entirely sure if it's #a family thing/community thing/region thing/or just me personally mishearing and making mistakes #but no vrayatam vs rayatam is v common - in fact we have a term for it: it's basically bookish vs spoken language #but again gongura/gongora ISN'T an example of that dichotomy from what i understand so i think it's like a different genre of corruption?#apologies if this isn't making much sense; i'm quite sleepy #anyway what was my point #oh yeah gongura my beloved <3 #placeholder tag

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mantinerdyfan · 2 years

Text

**Reveal**

"I'm not your mother....I'm actually....your sister." Silence. "Not biologically, but still your sister."

"I don't understand."

"If you think about it, those closest to you never really confirmed I was your mother; it was statements, but no full acknowledgement....not even from your father."

The twins faced one another in confusion, trying to remember each encounter.

"No, I guess not." Setsuna spoke softly. "But then...why lie?"

"Where...where's our mothee?" Towa asked, her voice choking slightly as she thought of the Higarashi's love and kindness.

Rin smiled at the two. They were sitting inside the home she shared with Kohaku; between them was a lit fire, its light illuminating their emotions.

Rin tilted her head upwards and closed her eyes; in that instance, a soft breeze passed between them.

"What?" Setsuna asked Towa with annoyance.

"What what?"

"You tapped me."

"No I didn't."

"I felt it."

"That was her....your mother." Rin spoke, her head still facing upward but her eyes were now open.

"What are you talking about?" Towa asked.

Rin faced them.

"Your mother....has become the wind."

Silence filled the room; Rin watched them, unsure of how to proceed. She didn't think Sesshomaru would have been better at explaining, so she took the role; this charade was going on far too long. She was tired of lying to the girls and she said as much; Kagome offered to be by her side when she told them, but as their elder sister she wanted to do it alone.

"Say that again." Towa commented.

"Your mother's name was Kagura."

"So....she's gone now?" Setsuna stated sadly.

"Her physical body is gone, but not her spirit; she still watches over you...that's what you felt just now. She was a wind goddess on earth and became the wind when she passed."

Rin waited for a response, but when none came she continued.

"Kagura was a graceful and beautiful person; although to be honest, when I first met her she was a bit mean."

"She was evil?" Towa asked.

"She was under the control of an evil person; however, she atoned for her wrongdoing."

"How did she die?" Setsuna asked.

"Naraku....you heard of him right?" They nodded. "He was the one who controlled her; he killed her when it was apparent she wanted to be free of him."

"Wait," Setsuna started. "The battle with Naraku happened a while ago; how could she be our mother if she was already gone?"

"When your mother passed along to the netherworld, she was granted one wish...a wish for her change of heart; the one thing your mother wanted was to be with your father again....to see him." Rin smiled broadly, watching the flames.

"That...sounds nice." Towa stated.

"It was very romantic," Rin continued. "She was granted one season every year with him; however, when she found out she was pregnant it went against the laws of her eternal life. She was not allowed to keep you."

"What?" The twins said in unison.

"Heart broken of course, she begged them..."

"Them?" Towa questioned.

"The Gods of the netherworld; begged them to spare her baby. They would not hear of it so she agreed to give you up; at that time she didn't know she was going to have twins. You two were found by Sesshomaru near the tree of ages."

"That sounds a bit far fetched." Setsuna interjected. "You're making this up right? I mean come on, a wind goddess? How was she able to....conceive if she were a goddess?"

"The wish they granted her made her human again...if only for once a year."

"Say it's the truth, why didn't she come back the following year?" Setsuna asked.

"Yeah," Towa added.

"She was forbidden; she was no longer allowed to roam in her human form as what she and your father did went against their laws. She accepted her fate with a heavy heart and left instructions with you two; she did not want you to know until you were ready to accept the tale."

"Well I don't." Setsuna got to her feet. "This sounds like bull; why are you making this us mother?"

"I told you, I'm not your mother; I know this seems hard to believe."

"It is."

"Wait!" Towa called as Setsuna walked out.

"Towa." Rin called. "What about you....do you believe me?"

"I....don't know." She left, chasing after her sister.

#kagura x sesshomaru #fanfic

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divno · 2 years

Text

The poets at a wedding

anderperry wedding I guess?

Knox

would definitely cry at the wedding

would be in almost every picture

I feel like he would be the wedding planner and be very passionate about every choice

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PASTELS WON'T BE THE BEST COLOUR PALETTE"

"omg I love this song! let's dance!"

"you said that about every song"

"shut up and dance with me"

would be drunk sobbing even more by the end of the night

("there there knoxy poxy"

"but they are so beautiful. they grow up so fast" *sobs hysterically*)

Cameron

designated driver honestly

would probably have to carry someone home

he would be the only one who isn't a mess by the end of the wedding and has all his clothes on

("for the love of god Charlie please put back your pants"

"OH MY GOD NEIL NOT HERE DO THAT WITH TODD WHEN YOU GO HOME"

"knox....that's not where your tie should be")

would help calculate the budget

I don't think he would be grumpy. as a matter of fact I think he would really enjoy himself and cheer super loudly

he would probably play the clarinet too!!

and give a huge speech before the song

(and in the end, just as everyone would want him to get on with the song, he would say "this goes out to Neil and Todd. Quite literally, for this was the song I used to play as loud as possible so I won't hear Todd and Neil in the next room" and all the poets would hoot racously while a mortified Todd buries his head in Neil's neck)

Pitts

He is the minister (he lost a bet and no, he will not elaborate) and is just grinning broadly as he marries his best friends and trying not to wolf whistle

He and Meeks would be in charge of the music for sure

He would help select the venue and set up the tent too

He is the one who carries in all the chairs and tables and runs back and forth while Cameron and Charlie argue on where things should be set

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,LEFT OR RIGHT. IF YOU BOTH DON'T AGREE I WILL DROP IT ON YOUR HEAD"

would make the cute ppt!

He would light up like a candle when he sees spaghetti and meatballs

"SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS"

he would have to keep bending for photographs or stand in the back

he would also give piggy back rides!

Charlie

chaotic dumbass

he would get drunk and dance on the tables so exhuberantly people would move away in fear of injury

"TO INDEED BE A GOD"

("in the name of all the poets, please stop flirting with the chocolate fountain and get down charlie"

"PISS OFF THIS IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE"

"I thought I was the love of your life"

"sprout out chocolate like a human hosepipe and then we'll talk")

Neil's best man

his speech....would be SO obscene

like literally every parent would look horrified

Neil would do everything in his power to not laugh while Todd would probably spit out his champagne on the nearest person's face

would take credit for calling on anderperry before anyone else

( "Thank you for playing but I'm afraid that was me, Mr. Dalton"

"No way,captain. I called it the moment their eyes met. my antennae is superior. I have a love radar built in to my system"

"Charlie, it took you so long to realize Ginny and Chris were together"

"they are WHAT")

would wolf whistle when Neil walks down the aisle

he would play the sax!

Meeks

I feel like he would be Todd's best man

and he would be so honoured

would be beaming the entire time

help with the music (would probably play it on the radio he and Pitts were working on!)

and the ppt

he would also take SO MANY PICTURES because he would be the best photographer who knows how to operate a camera without breaking it

the golden one would be of Charlie falling off the table

he would print it out and label it "modern icarus"

I don't know why but I picture Meeks to be really good at baking and would probably bring cupcakes for everyone

he would criticise the desert as if he were a judge in a bake off

("ugh what is that lemon-y taste"

"Uh, lemon? this is a lemon meringue, Meeks. Will you only read labels if they are in Latin?"

"What if I will?"

"OH, then I should probably get a Latin phrase tattooed on my-"

"hands so they look aesthetically pleasing when you read the Bible, yes")

Chris

would be dancing so much

and get red faced from the drinks

I feel like she would dance on the tables along with Charlie until they accidentally kick a pyramid of wine glasses and need to be dragged down

she would set up a lovely photo booth

would be SO lively and cheerful

giving everyone hugs

stomp her feet and scream happily anytime any dirty song comes along and would dance the craziest, dragging Ginny to the dance floor

would start a dance chain where everyone grabs the shoulders of the person in front and hop around the dance floor. All the poets would have their ties around their heads

Ginny

super happy for Neil and Todd because she knew Neil was in love with Todd the moment she heard him talk about his lovely roommate during midsummer rehearsals

would be dancing so much with Chris, grinning and laughing all the while

Chris can't take her eyes off her

and the way Ginny looks at Chris OH MY GOD GET A ROOM

The only person who could dance as much as or more than her would be Knox.

She would probably make a replica of Puck's crown and make Neil wear it in the photobooth

would admire the decorations

would take so many pictures of her friends

she would be an amazing photographer too

would probably wear the jazz hands pose during pictures

and when she gets drunk she says things things to Chris that make her look like she is going to combust

Keating

would walk Neil down the aisle

would cry because his heart feels so full

would recite a poem as he dances with the poets

would lead the poets and scream YAWP

he reminds them all of love, love and love

they would all lift him in the air too like they did in the football pitch

He would feel so happy and proud

"Mr. Anderson are you a man or an amoeba"

he would take a picture with all the poets and keep it in his pocket

he would dance with everyone and then eventually just chill by the drinks counter,making everyone around him laugh or feel inspired (or both)

and of course

Neil

can't stop grinning

would be SO happy honestly

the soft looks he would give Todd the entire time OMG

would swoon at the sight of Todd in a suit

would mouth "I love you" when he walks down the aisle

his vows would make Todd laugh and cry at the same time and the sight just warms Neil's heart

He would be dancing with EVERYONE

everyone moves out of the way in a hurry when he dances with Charlie

would be hooting and screaming while dancing

His face would be red - either from dancing or drinks or laughter or because of the things Todd is whispering in his ear

would take so many pictures of and with Todd

his dance with todd would be like a fairytale. people would honestly be awestruck because they are so gorgeous and they are proof that love exists goddammit

and while dancing he would keep telling Todd how beautiful he is and some other things too that makes Todd either trip on his dress shoes or give that certain grin that Neil is pretty sure would bring him to his knees

he would make sure Todd feels comfortable and at peace and he knows he is by just looking at his face

Todd

so happy

nervous excitement ofc but he is at bliss and he has that adorable giggly grin on which is so contagious

his vows bring everyone to tears.

he recites a poem that renders everyone speechless

he is slightly crying and laughing at the same time at Neil's vows

he sways dreamily and people aren't even sure if it is because of the drinks; he is in the moment and he is revelling in the bliss and the euphoric realization that this is all real

and when he feels jitters, he squeezes Neil's hands and his heart immediately falls at ease and fills with warmth when Neil pulls away from the crowd and stays with him

He dances with everyone too, and nearly falls when Charlie spins him but he does a neat but accidental trick that makes the whole thing look so swuave the only thing that ruined it was his adorable look of surprise

he would keep telling Neil how much he loves him and how proud he is of Neil

he dances with Keating too and it's the most precious thing

dancing with Neil is one of the best moments in his life and he wants to stay there forever until Neil whispers something that makes him want to find the nearest room

he would smile at guests and honestly he doesn't have to say much. his dazzling smile says it all

when he drinks and gets in the mood he is so sweet and lively and he has so much fun with all of his poets, talking and dancing and laughing.

he would also say something super sarcastic

("Neil, your husband is being mean"

"I know"

"ew I should have known you would be into that"

"Hey-no- *looks at Todd for support*

*Todd grins, looks away and shrugs*)

he tells everyone how much he cherishes and loves them and his heart feels so full

he feels loved and at home

@aedan-mills @inahallucination @pittsiesmeeks @ameliterature

#dead poets society #dps #anderperry #john keating #mr keating #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #gerard pitts #richard cameron #steven meeks #chris noel #ginny danburry #headcanon #anderperryheadcanons #anderperry wedding #dps wedding #dead poets society wedding #dps headcanon #dead poets society headcanon

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

Text

Horse Thieves

Summary: The Shelby siblings are still building their imperium, and they need a horse to do it.

(Gif by @madshelby)

A/N: I asked around a bit and people wanted to read a lot more about Teddy, so I decided to use this request by one lovely anon: Hello! I've never done a request for a fic before so please excuse me if this isn't the right way to do it 🙈 But I noticed your requests were open and read the prompts list you linked to for Shelby sister prompts - so can I request something that incorporates 7.“car. Now”, 8.“what story do you want tonight” and 14.“your heading the right way for a smacked backside”. Thank you! I decided to base this on this idea I had in the longer Teddy series, where she refers to a time when she stole a horse with Tommy. So see this as a prequel if you will, set before the series. Words: 2773

*** “Whatever you do, you’re not using Finn.” “I won’t…” “I mean it, Thomas,” Aunt Polly warned, “You’ve only been back for five minutes from France and I will not have you endangering my nephew, after I’ve kept him safe for fucking four years.”

Tommy sighed, “Yes, I understand.” Polly looked at her nephew with a distrustful gaze, “Why do we need the horse?” “Betting’s down,” he slowly lit a cigarette, “We need our own. A horse that looks good. Convinces people to lay a bet.” She had to agree with that, “Where will you go?” “To the place where people most expect a horse to be stolen.” “Why?” “Hide in plain sight,” he pointed, “you taught me that.” “I thought I taught you everything…” Polly mused sternly. Tommy nodded slowly, “Maybe. And now I’m acting on it…” After a short pause, he said, “I’m gonna do it, Pol. I’ll make this family rich. Trust me.” “What about the little ones?” “I’m doing this for them, alright, so that they won’t have to grow up like we did!” Fire was burning in his eyes when he spoke, but Polly had never seen him quite like this. He was different these days. After pondering for a while, she said, “So tell me where.” Tommy took a deep breath, knowing she’d disapprove, “The fair.” “For fuck’s sake, Thomas!” *** “WELCOME TO THE FAIR!” Arthur bellowed, which scared most people in his vicinity away, but it made Teddy, who was used to it, literally jump for joy. Arthur grinned broadly and lifted his little sister up onto his shoulders, shouting, “Now look here, sweet girl, this is where we bloody come from and don’t you forget it!” “Arthur, can I have a candied apple?” Teddy asked him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse her anything when he was in a mood like this. “You can have all the apples, Teddy!” he replied with a grand gesture. John came walking besides them and quietly said to his brother, “They’re here.” “Good,” Arthur said uncharacteristically gently, and he lifted Teddy off his shoulders again, “Tommy’s in place.” “What about Finn, Arthur?” he said, playing with his toothpick. Arthur winked at his suddenly much younger brother, “Don’t worry, brother. He’s off playing with the Boswell kids. He’ll be no bloody trouble.” John grinned down at Teddy, “Unlike this one!” “You know why, John?” Teddy asked cheekily, “Because Finn is like Arthur, but I am like you!” John laughed manically out loud and Arthur bellowed, “She’s fucking right!” “How about that apple, Arthur?” Teddy asked innocently, quickly adding a, “Please?” “Wait here, princess.” As they continued walking, John took Teddy’s hand in his and said to her, “Look at all the horses, Teddy. Maybe one day you could have one of your own.” “But I already have the pony you gave me when you came back,” she looked up with adoring eyes. It was no secret that Teddy had four heroes in life, and those were her brothers. He looked down, “Yeah, but one day you’ll have a horse. Promise.” “John?” she asked, suddenly serious, “You won’t go away again, will you?” “Go where? Why would I leave my favourite little girl!” “You did before…” John stopped and turned to her, “Listen, that was the war… You know I don’t like talking about that…” “I know…” “But the war’s over. No more fucking mud for us, alright?” he said earnestly. He tried desperately to hide the pain he felt. Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry,” John blurted out all of a sudden, “I’m sorry we left you. We didn’t know… what it’d be… we thought it would be…” he simply couldn’t find the words. “I know,” she interrupted him in a high voice, “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, alright?” “Alright,” he smiled. Then he changed his tone again, happy to switch subjects, “Now, what story do you want tonight?” “One about a horse!” “How about we get you a real one?” John suggested light-heartedly.

Teddy giggled because she thought he was joking, slipped her hand into his again and started skipping. Then she looked over at Arthur, who was just in the process of stealing an apple for her. It was good to have her brothers back again.

“Teddy?” John asked, “think you could do something for me?” “Like what?” “Tommy needs our help.” “With what?” her eyebrows shot up. John coughed once and waited for Arthur to join them, “Eat your apple. And listen, Tommy needs us to help him with something.” Mouth full of candied apple, “whaff kinf of somefingff?” “Just do as we tell you to,” John explained, “and then Tommy’ll tell you what to do.” Arthur nodded, “He’s already instructed us.” “Arthur,” John became unsure, “Are we really involving our eight-year-old sister in this?” “She’ll be fine, John-boy! She’s fucking smart, she is.” “I am,” Teddy replied proudly. The candied apple was nearly gone already.

“Alright, Teddy-girl, you listen to me, yeah?” John bend down to her level, “I need you to pretend you got lost, or maybe ask for help, or cry! Can you cry?” Teddy sniffled a little, “I’m not sure,” she then said in her normal voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t! Just scream a lot, alright?” “Wait!” she said, “Give me a second….” And she pouted her lips again, scrunched up her nose and suddenly tears were falling down her cheeks. “Bloody hell…” Arthur mumbled, as he turned to John, “you fucking created a monster.” “I’m crying!” Teddy said triumphantly through her tears, “Now what?” John shook her head to banish the emotions he felt over seeing his baby sister cry, “Go to Tommy.” Teddy quickly darted off and went in search of her other brother. When she found him, she announced herself with, “Look, Tommy, real tears!” “What the fuck?” Tommy replied in shock, “What happened, tell me now!” “Nothing!” she quipped, “John made me.” “I’ll fucking kill him,” her brother said automatically, “Did he throw you up in the air again?” Teddy grinned, “No, and besides that doesn’t make me cry…” “It did when you broke your arm.” She waved a disinterested hand, “Fine. But I mean he told me to cry because you needed a disattraction! “Distraction.” “Yes!” Tommy knelt down and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, first things first, you can never, ever tell Aunt Polly about this, do you hear me?” Teddy nodded obediently. “I mean it Teddy. She’ll have my fucking balls…” A high voice replied, “Which balls?” He sighed deeply again, regretting his words intensely, “Listen to me, eh? Don’t tell Aunt Pol.” “I will,” but a vague twinkle had come into Teddy’s eyes the second she realised her big tough brother was scared of Aunt Polly too.

Tommy lifted up Teddy and she rested on his hip, hugged close by his arm. She could vaguely smell his hair, his cigarette and a whiff of horse on him. This was her brother, who’d been gone for two whole years. She was only little when he’d gone, but Teddy remembered she cried a lot. All she ever wanted at night was for John to play with her and for Arthur to sit with her and for Tommy to tell her stories. She and Finn used to curl up together and cry. But now he was home, not the same, but still home.

“See them?” Tommy pointed, with a smile playing about his lips like he used to have all the time before the war, “See that family?” Teddy followed his hand with her eyes, “Yeah, the ones with the man with the blue scarf?” “That’s the one,” he nodded, “I need you to distract them.” “Why?” “So I can take their horse.” Teddy turned to face Tommy, and as she grinned, his face lit up as well, “Are we going to steal the horse, Tommy?” Teddy whispered excitedly. “Yes.” She lowered her voice even more, “just you and me?” Softly, he planted a kiss on her head, “Can’t do it without you…” Couldn’t do any of this without you here, he thought, but didn’t say it. “Alright,” he continued, “I’m going to talk to the man with the scarf. Meanwhile, John and Arthur are going to pick a fight with some other men, over by the candied apples, you see?” “That’s why I got an apple…” Teddy mused, slightly disappointed. Tommy quickly got her attention back, “I’ll be talking to him about this other family I know,” he waved a hand, “it’ll be something useless, but I’ll get him to walk away. John-boy is itching to punch someone, so he will, don’t get scared, alright?” Teddy frowned, “I’m not scared of John.” “Now, you see that horse, the black one, by the water?” She peered through the crowd of people and finally caught a glimpse of the beauty. Her eyes lit up in a way that only the Shelby’s eyes light up when looking at a horse. “There’s two boys with him. I need you to go to them. Make sure they walk away from the horse.” “Tommy…” Teddy thought out loud, “Won’t they know it was us?” He smirked at his sister’s intellect, “No. They don’t know us. Besides, they’re feuding with another family here. There’s a war coming, but we won’t be involved this time. Don’t worry about it, eh?” “Why are they fighting, Tommy?” she was not letting it go so easily. “Because I made it happen.” Then he walked a few feet so that they were both hidden from sight, “Now, I need you to distract the boys, and maybe some of the women as well. Cry, if you can, and if anything goes wrong, scream. I know you’re good at that…” “Who will take the horse?” “Johnny Dogs will. He’s close by,” Tommy leaned his forehead onto Teddy’s, “Think you can do it?” “Yes!” “Not too scared?” “Never!” Teddy replied enthusiastically, which slightly worried Tommy, but instead he said, “Go on.” So Teddy walked out behind the tent on her own and started thinking sad thoughts, just to make the tears come easily later on. There wasn’t much need for them though, because as soon as she approached the boys who were washing the horse, one called out, “Piss off!” “Fuck you!” Teddy replied in a flash, “This is free land and I’m a free woman!” she heard Aunt Polly say that once, “I’ll go where I fucking please!” One of the boys pushed her and angrily Teddy shoved him back. Then the second one came for her, and Teddy suddenly remembered her mission. So against all of her instincts, she let herself be pushed to the ground and started howling as soon as she landed. Immediately heads turned and Teddy cried like she hadn’t done in two years, “They pushed me!” But somewhere from out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur arguing with someone and John landing a punch, almost in slow-motion, and she knew everything went according to plan. “Did not!” the boy protested nervously, “she started it!” Teddy curled up a little and held onto her leg like it was hurting, while trying to make herself as small as possible, “It hurts…” “What have you done!” a strange woman called out to one of the boys, who shrunk visibly as soon as he heard her voice, “fighting little girls now, are you?!” “I didn’t, ma! She started it!” but before he could finish his sentence, he’d gotten the first smack around the head. One down, one more to go. So Teddy upped the tears and it worked beautifully: the second boy didn’t wait for his mother to hear, but decided to run instead. Slowly, Teddy started to calm down, because if she just stood up now and showed it was all fake, everything would’ve been for nothing. She made that mistake once with Finn, and she wouldn’t be doing so again. After about a minute, chaos had descended on the fair. Men were fighting, Tommy was making an already nervous man simply anxious and this side of the camp was almost deserted. But where was Johnny? Teddy got up and hid near the beautiful horse. And then she saw him: somehow Johnny had ended up in the middle of the fight as well. This could ruin everything! “Come,” Teddy beckoned, “Come here! I promise I won’t hurt you…” and much to her own surprise, the horse obeyed. She untied the reigns and like he’d always been hers, he followed her down into the river. Teddy swam a little, wondered for only a second what Aunt Polly would say, and then climbed up onto the horse’s back in the water. From there on, she made a quick decision and urged the horse on. The river was low and couldn’t be seen all the way from the camp, so she kept the route of invisibility. After a while, she spurred the horse on and he climbed the riverside, with the tiny load still on his back. From this distance, Teddy could still see the fair, but because of the trees she was certain they couldn’t see her. “Now what?” she asked the horse, because she hadn’t really thought this through. In reply it neighed. “Shh!” Teddy scolded, “you want me to get caught?” So she steered the horse by its manes and made her way to where the family car was parked. With some luck, everyone else would still be too busy fighting. *** “Teddy!” Teddy turned her head and saw her brothers running, with sheer panic in their eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” Tommy demanded. Teddy shrunk a little at the anger in his voice, “I didn’t know where to go so I went here…” “Car. Now!” Tommy fumed. “That was actually smart, Tom,” Arthur defended her. Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I thought something happened to you… That’s why I tell you not to leave my fucking side!” “I’m sorry…” she whimpered and tears started forming in her eyes again. “Don’t even try that,” John joked, “We know you can pretend now.” Looking caught, Teddy tried to hide the smile she shared with John. “That’s it, Tom,” Arthur walked back and forth to get rid of the adrenaline still coursing through his body, after they found there little sister was missing, “We’re not using our bloody sister again, for anything!” “Agreed,” Tommy said at once. “I thought you wanted the horse?” Teddy questioned. Again Tommy sighed and he lit another cigarette, “No fucking horse is worth losing you over, Teddy.” And that’s when she realised he wasn’t angry, just worried. “No fucking horse,” Arthur agreed. “But…” she started. John interrupted, “Forget about the horse, Teddy, we’re just glad you’re okay.” “But…” “Besides, we can get a horse some other way, eh?” Tommy continued, “Might even pay for it…” “But…” Tommy held up a hand, “Stop interrupting me, Teddy.” Instead Teddy interrupted him, “But the fucking horse is fucking here!” she pointed beyond the car at the woods, “Look! I rode him here after Johnny didn’t show up!” “I’ll be fucking damned,” Arthur blurted out, “she rode the fucking horse here.” John burst out laughing and simply high-fived Teddy, but Tommy looked as stunned as Arthur did. Anxiously, Teddy waited for Tommy’s reply, occasionally saying things like, “Johnny wasn’t coming,” and “my tears were almost dried up,” and “it wasn’t really my fault, the horse just followed me!” “Teddy Shelby,” Tommy said finally, “you little horse thief…” “You told me to,” Teddy said pointedly, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in her voice. “Oh, so this is our fault, eh?” Teddy shrugged and put on an angelic face, “Well, Arthur taught me how to steal, John taught me how to cry and you told me what to do…”

He pointed at her, “You’re heading the right way for a smacked backside...” Again Tommy looked at the horse and then he coughed a short laugh, “Alright, you win. We’re all horse thieves. Go get your horse.” “Mine?” “Yours.” As Teddy got the horse, the brothers still couldn’t get over the fact that she just did all of that. “Before we go home, there’s just one more thing, Teddy,” Tommy said, “Tell me again what I made you promise.” “Don’t tell Aunt Polly about this.” “Or?” he said menacingly, hoping he still had some authority over her by usually being the one who punished her, when he wasn’t teaching her how to steal that is… “She’ll have your balls.” Tommy eyed his two brothers who doubled over in laugher, but decided to ignore that. “Good girl.”

*** Masterlist

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

just for laughs

pairing: chris evans x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mention of a shitty ex, mentions of insecurities

requested: nope

word count: ~1.2k

summary: chris helps y/n overcome an insecurity of hers

author's note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

Chris was upset.

Chris was upset because his girlfriend was upset.

Did he absolutely know she was upset?

Nope!

But she had to be because she wasn't laughing at any of his jokes.

"Hey hey hey, look at this one I found—" he chuckled as he looked up, just as she turned her head towards him. "What is it?" Y/N grinned. "This pick-up line from the show Wild n Out. It says, girl are your parents beavers? 'Cause you built like DAYUM," Chris said and Y/N grinned hugely, causing his face to fall. Nope, didn't work yet again. "Hah, that's hilarious! If you had said that to me I'd have accepted it."

"Yeah," he mumbled and continued scrolling, leaving Y/N to do whatever she was doing (which was trying to fall asleep because it was very late at night).

Chris and Y/N had started dating a month ago, and they were extremely happy in their relationship. Chris loved almost everything about her— almost, because the only thing he hated about her was the fact that she never laughed at any of his jokes.

She'd verbally confirm that the joke was good but she'd never, ever laugh. He only got smiles or grins from her and he couldn't understand why. Some of the jokes he made caused whole rooms to erupt into boisterous laughter but he never got a laugh out of her. And that made him very sad. If she liked his jokes, why did she never laugh? Turning towards her, he smiled when he saw her fast asleep.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Keeping his phone away, he lay down next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist from behind, spooning her. He fell asleep just minutes later.

---

"Okay, that's it! That's it! I have to ask you!" Chris slammed his hand on the desk in front of him, startling Y/N. 8 months had now passed since they started dating and Chris was tired. Tired, because for 8 months she hadn't laughed at any of his jokes. Not one. Not even a tiny chuckle or a giggle or a titter. Only a smile and, "the joke was hilarious!" Why was she not laughing? "Chris, is everything okay?" He shook his head.

"Nothing is okay. I'm going to be blunt here— why don't you ever laugh at any of my jokes? I'm dying to hear you laugh, sweetheart, you always tell me my jokes are good but you never ever laugh! Wouldn't a laugh be a much better and quicker way of telling me you think I'm hilarious? It's just— it's been 8 months…" Y/N pursed her lips and looked down, scratching her arm.

"No, Chris, your jokes are awesome, I swear," she began, "It's just— I haven't— it's been a long time since I've… actually laughed. It's not you, it's me." Her confession shocked him. He went to the couch and sat next to her, taking her hand in his. "How long has it been…?" he whispered, quickly regretting his outburst as a tear slipped down her cheek. She turned and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "A few years."

"Years?! You haven't laughed in years?" he blurted out, his heart shattering into two as Y/N sniffled and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Chris," she sobbed and Chris pulled her on his lap, shaking his head. "Don't be sorry, love, we can talk about this." She curled up into him as he wrapped his arms around her middle, her head now resting on his shoulder.

Both her legs were thrown on one side of Chris' legs. "What do you want to know?"

"Why."

"It's just—" Her arms tightened around his waist. "I used to date this g-guy and when we broke up he said some very v-vile things to me and it took me years to get rid of my insecurities but what he said to me about m-my laugh— it never left me. I eventually just— forgot how to laugh. I'm so sorry, Chris, you have to go through this because of him—" Chris saw red. Someone told her her laugh was ugly?

How can people even have the nerve to say such things to another being? "He told you your laugh was ugly?" Chris asked quietly, letting out a growl when Y/N nodded. "How fucking dare he?! Tell me his address, I'm gonna go over right now, punch him in his stupid fucking face and maybe kick him a couple times in the balls, then we'll see whose cry is ugly, fuckin' asshole!"

Chris' angry outburst made Y/N pull away from him as she cupped his cheek, shaking her head. "Don't do it, it's not worth it. I'll work on it for you, I promise. Besides, I don't even know where he lives," she smiled and Chris let out a chuckle, holding her face in his hands just like she was holding his. Then he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you so much, darling, just want you to remember: no one's laugh is ever ugly. Because what is a laugh, anyway? A sound of excitement, a sound someone makes when they're so happy they can't contain it. It is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world, a person being so elated they just have to let the world know that they're super happy. And I bet you have the best one. We're going to work on it together."

Y/N was in tears once again because what he was saying was true. It was a sound of joy, and someone being joyful isn't a bad thing at all. "We will," she agreed and Chris smiled to himself as she cuddled into his arms again.

He couldn't wait to hear her laugh.

---

"And then he was like that's too hard and you know what I said? You'd know about that, you're the expert on hard things!" Chris wheezed as he finished telling Y/N an incident that had happened that day. Instead of smiling and saying anything, Y/N laughed loudly, surprising both herself and Chris. She covered her mouth with a shocked look on her face as Chris let out a triumphant "yes!", pulling her into his arms.

"I laughed," she whispered, a broad smile showing up on her face, "I actually laughed! Chris, I did it!" She squealed and gave him a big smooch on the lips. He grinned broadly and pulled her in for another short kiss. "And I knew your laugh was going to be the best sound in the world! You mean to say I've been missing out on that for a year?! Man, now I wanna beat up your ex even more badly—"

Y/N chuckled and patted his chest, stopping his rant. "Chris, leave it be. In Elsa's words, the past in the past." He only rolled his eyes and kissed her again. "I love you so much," he whispered and she gave him a tiny smile, snuggling into his chest. "I love you too, you helped me come over an insecurity of mine, how can I ever thank you?" He smirked suggestively at her and she laughed again, shaking her head.

"Christopher Robert Evans, you incorrigible man!"

"I'm just saying!"

"Fine, come here."

"Wait what—"

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #captain america #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Text

Have I Been Bad, Officer?

Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Handcuffs Oneshot

Nesta surprises Cassian for a little Anniversary fun. Turns out, real handcuffs work better than sex-shop knock-offs.

Written for Nessian Month @illyrianet

Prompt: Handcuffs

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Police/Handcuffs

4102 words

*******

Cassian watched as another car approached his police cruiser, spotted it, and abruptly slowed down to pass him. Even pulled off on the shoulder of the road, the logo of Velaris PD stood out on the side of the car.

He rolled his eyes. Normally he would have cared more, but that was the only car he’d seen in the last ten minutes and he was already in a bad mood; he decided it was best for everyone if he didn’t take his frustration out on whatever poor driver had the bad luck of getting his attention.

He shouldn’t be sitting in his patrol car waiting to pull people over for speeding. He should be at home with his beautiful, devious wife, celebrating their anniversary.

Cassian had made a point to ask for the day off. The next two days off, actually. He wasn’t going to rush any of their anniversary plans. But then an officer called in sick, and another had a family emergency, and suddenly Cassian was being dragged into work because a personal day took less preference, unfortunately.

Nesta understood. At first, she’d threatened to go down to the precinct and tell his chief exactly what she thought about the decision, but Cassian convinced her that if she did that then he’d be fired and would consequently have every day off. It sounded good until he reminded both of them that being fired means he wouldn’t be making money, and it turns out you need money to live.

And although Nesta understood, she certainly wasn’t making it easy on him. Every fifteen minutes his phone chimed with a new message from her.

At first, it was just an ‘I love you’, and ‘Happy Anniversary’, but that soon turned into her explaining all things she was going to do to him when he got home.

And all the things she wanted him to do to her.

Then the pictures started.

Each new picture showed Nesta in a different outfit. A few were of her in different lingerie sets, a couple of them, Cassian noted excitedly, were ones he hadn’t seen before.

Another picture was of her in just his shirt, kneeling on the ground, back arched with her nipples pressing through the fabric.

The latest one was of Nesta in nothing but his uniform’s hat, and bright red lipstick.

Groaning loudly, Cassian rubbed his hands over his face. He willed his cock to calm down and counted down the seconds until he could get home and follow through with some of the requests she made.

The next twenty minutes passed without any more cars driving by and without any more of Nesta’s texts. Good, he thought, she was done torturing him when he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Cassian noticed a set of headlights approaching in the distance. Still mostly hidden from view, he watched as the car sped past him. Speeding. He rolled his eyes and watched for more cars.

He didn’t have to wait long. A minute later a car sped by him going the other direction. Cassian sat up at full attention; it was the same car, but this time it was driving even faster.

He watched as the car took the next exit, turned around, and drove back towards him.

Confused, Cassian waited until it was almost to him and then he turned on his lights and sirens and pulled out into the road behind the strange car.

Almost immediately, the driver slowed and pulled off onto the road’s shoulder.

In the shine of his headlights, Cassian could easily read the license plate of the familiar-looking car he stopped. He recognized it as easily as he knew his own.

It was Nesta’s car.

And she had driven by more than once to get his attention. Chuckling to himself, Cassian slowly got out of his cruiser and strutted over to her driver’s side window.

He shined his flashlight in her face, careful not to blind her with the harsh light, and smirked broadly as he leaned his elbows against the open window. Her hair was loose in waves down her back—his favorite look on her—, she wore a long coat with a belt tied around her waist and the top two buttons open allowing him a peek of her cleavage when she leaned closer. She also had on bright red lipstick that Cassian couldn’t wait to attempt to ruin; Nesta had long since started buying smudge-proof lipstick, but Cassian always like to test the limits of her makeup.

He didn’t say anything at first, instead, waiting for her to explain what she was doing. But she just blinked up at him innocently and smiled with her blood-red lips.

She was up to something, but Cassian thought he was going to enjoy whatever she had planned, so he played along.

“Are you aware that you were speeding, miss?” Cassian asked in his best authoritative voice. He had perfected a lot of voices when it came to Nesta. The soft voice he used when she was reading and he didn’t want to disturb her; the charming, cocky voice he used when flirting with her; the rough, low voice he used whenever he wanted to make her particularly wet; but this one, his ‘cop-voice’ was one she loved to hear when he was in control.

Her smile slowly morphed into a smirk.

“I absolutely was speeding,” she paused and leaned forward, the neck of her jacket opened further and Cassian could see the swells of her breasts as she said in a low voice, “Officer.”

He suppressed a groan. She knew what that did to him. And if the satisfied look in her eyes was any indication, his own had turned dark and hungry at her tone.

If this is how she wanted to play, he would gladly oblige her.

“You were driving real fast. Very dangerous.” Cassian’s eyes remained locked with hers. “I’m not sure if I can let you go with just a warning. You seemed pretty determined to catch my attention.” Cassian’s smirk grew.

“Are you going to write me up? Give me a ticket?” Her gaze dropped to where his notepad was stuffed into his belt and slowly raked her eyes back up to his. “Have I been bad, Officer?”

Fuck. He chuckled wickedly and made a show of looking around the dark, empty road. He hadn’t seen another car pass by for a while and he doubted there would be anyone for a while.

“Nes, sweetheart.” This time, when he leaned down his gaze lingered on her open collar. “I’m not going to give you a ticket.”

Nesta’s smile turned feline, and Cassian felt like he’d walked right into her snare.

“Then I guess,” her voice dropped low and she looked up at him through her eyelashes, “you’ll have to punish me some other way, Officer.”

This time, Cassian didn’t muffle his groan of approval. He pushed himself off the car door and shot her a broad grin before schooling his features into a stern, disapproving mask.

“I’m gonna need you to step out of the car.”

Still smirking, Nesta slowly opened the door. As she brought one leg out and then the other, setting them on the pavement, Cassian noticed that her coat exposed her bare thigh and he wondered what exactly she was wearing underneath. Or not wearing if he knew Nesta—and he prided himself in knowing Nesta.

She stood up and shut the door.

Cassian took a moment to look her up and down. He took in her long tousled hair, red lips, trench coat—he realized now—and the pair of black patent leather stilettos. He didn’t hide his desire; he knew his face must look ravenous, and he could feel where his pants were stretched tightly, showing her the shape of his hard cock.

A slow smirk spread across his face.

He motioned for her to walk around to the other side of her car. The side farther away from the road and the scarce light.

“Turn around.” He ordered.

She turned, pressing her front into the car’s frame, waiting until the last second to tear her eyes from his. He stepped closer to her until he was almost pressed against her and pulled her hair away from her ear to say, “I need to pat you down. Gotta make sure you don’t have anything dangerous on you.”

She shivered as his breath hit the arch of her ear.

His hands rested on her shoulders before slowly trailing down her arms.

“No knives,” His hands came back up and then tracked down her back, running a finger along the curve of her spine.

“No guns.” His fingers gripped her waist and in a quick motion, pulled her hips flush against his so she could feel exactly how turned on he was by her little game. He felt her ass rub up against his erection and held in a groan.

“No pepper spray.” He used one foot to kick her legs apart. One hand pressed on her upper back, making her lean further into the car. With her ass pushed out and feet spread apart, he gave her round backside a quick slap that caused her to gasp in surprise and gripped her hips to hold her in place.

“Don’t move,” Cassian commanded gruffly and he thought he heard a soft moan escape Nesta’s lips.

He pressed his body into hers, keeping her in place while he moved one hand to her hip as the other snaked its way around to grip her throat. Not too constricting, but just enough that she knew who was in charge

“What was that you said about punishing you?” Cassian’s hand on her hip moved down across her ass and then lower, taunting her with his touch. When she didn’t answer, just let out another low moan, he tightened his grip on her throat and cupped her through her panties.

Or, he would have if she’d been wearing any.

He moaned at the feeling of her warm, slick cunt against his fingers. Nesta’s words were cut off by a strangled gasp.

“Punish me.” She urged and tried to force her hips backward as he slowly moved his fingers along her slit, coating them in her wetness, before moving them up to circle her clit.

He hummed, considering. “You want me to punish you? I know you do, you’re so wet for me already,” he spoke into her ear, reveling in the sounds he was pulling from her.

“More, please,” Nesta gasped as his finger ghosted over her opening. “I’ve been bad, Officer.”

“You have.” He agreed and shoved two fingers into her soaking pussy.

She moaned loudly and splayed her hands across the top of the car trying to get a grip as he thrust into her relentlessly. His hand around her throat moved to reach into her coat and grasp one of her breasts.

Gods, she wasn’t wearing anything under her jacket.

He pulled his fingers all the way out, loving the whimper she made at the loss of sensation, only to add a third and resume his thrusts.

She moaned even louder as the hand at her breast rolled her nipple between his fingers and tweaked it harshly.

“Cass, please.” She begged. He loved it when she begged.

He grunted and pulled his fingers from her. Before she could protest, he spun her around so that her back was leaning against the car and she was staring at him with hooded eyes, breasts heaving as she breathed heavily.

He held her gaze as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked every last drop of her arousal from them.

“Was that my punishment?” Nesta panted, frustrated that he didn’t make her finish.

Cassian stepped up to her and raised a brow.

“If you think that was your punishment, then you’ve got another thing coming, sweetheart.” He winked and leaned down as if to kiss her, but ducked his head at the last second to attach his mouth to her neck, sucking small bruises along her collar bone and throat.

Nesta reached down and untied the belt holding her jacket together. With a few quick movements, she had it open, off her body, and flung to the ground several feet away from them. Now she was leaning against the car wearing nothing but her heels.

“Then finish the job, Officer.”

With a growl, he gripped her face and kissed her fiercely. It wasn’t tender or loving—those kisses were for later. This was hungry, ravenous, filled with uncontrolled desire.

It was teeth and tongues clashing, claiming the other as best they could.

He broke away and smirked again.

“With pleasure.”

Then he dropped to his knees and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. From his position, he noticed the underside of her stilettos was a bright red that matched her lips. He ran his hands up either side of her legs and watched Nesta shudder with anticipation before dipping his head between her thighs.

The sound of her moan and her head falling back to land on the car were almost as delicious as the taste of her on his tongue.

Cassian was relentless. He savored her taste and her moans as he devoured her. He knew exactly what she liked and she was already so close to the edge from the way his fingers had fucked her moments before.

Her moans grew louder and she fisted one hand in his hair, keeping him close. If he could, he would laugh; if she thought he would willingly abandon her soaking pussy right now she was insane. He would finish what he started, and then he’d make her beg for more

His tongue moved from where it was spearing into her to circle and suck her clit. He used two of his fingers to replace where his tongue had been inside her and curled them just right.

“Cassian!” Nesta’s head flew back and she shuddered as release barreled through her. The hands in his hair became almost unbearable tight, but he continued to eat her out slowly as she came down from her high.

When he was sure she’d ridden out the last wave, he stood up and held her gaze as he licked his lips. Her smoldering, lustful gaze heated further and she grabbed the back of his neck to pull him against her. Nesta tasted herself on Cassian’s lips and moaned.

She kissed down his jawline. She was so turned on knowing she was completely naked and he was still fully dressed.

Cassian grabbed her and reached for something on his belt, but she was too distracted to notice what it was. His hands ran down her arms and the next thing she knew, her own hands were behind her back and cold metal encircled them.

She broke the kiss to see his satisfied face. Raising an eyebrow she tested the stretch of the handcuffs he’d put on her.

“These are strong.” She commented on them, smirking, trying to pull her wrists apart.

Cassian flipped them around so he was now against the car. “They’re the real deal, baby.” Then he chuckled and unbuckled his belt.

Nesta watched hungrily as his fingers unbuttoned his pants and Cassian’s hard cock sprung free, desperate for attention.

He stroked himself a few times, loving the way her eyes were glued to his moving hand. “Now be a good girl and get on your knees.”

Nesta kicked off her heels and lowered herself to the ground, all the while looking at Cassian from beneath her eyelashes.

“Now what, Officer?” She goaded him innocently.

“Now show me what that smart mouth of yours can do.” He ran a hand through her hair before fisting it and bringing her face closer to his rock-hard cock. “And maybe it’ll make up for the way you behaved.”

She gave him one last smirk before leaning forwards and taking the tip of him into her mouth. He moaned at the feeling of her hot, wet mouth wrapped around him.

She sucked lightly, swirling her tongue over the slit. Cassian hissed a sharp breath and tightened his grip in her hair. She looked up at him as she started bobbing her head up and down.

“That’s it,” He groaned again as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked deeply. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Then she pushed forward until her nose hit his pelvis and Cassian let out a loud groan.

She pulled away once to take a breath and then he was pushing her back down, using his grip in her hair to move her head up and down. She gagged as the tip of him hit the back of her throat but Cassian kept her head moving.

“Fuck.” He choked out, “ You’re perfect. Your tight little throat takes me so well. Can’t wait to fuck your dripping pussy.” He met her watering eyes and felt the moan she released at his words vibrate around his cock. “Look at you, on your knees, hands cuffed behind your back, ugh, Nes—”

The vibrations of her moans combined and the feeling of his tip brushing the back of her throat sent him over the edge. He went rigged and loosened his grip on her hair as he released down her throat. She took all of him, swallowing every last drop. Nesta leaned back on her heels and slowly released him with an audible pop.

He helped her get to her feet so she wouldn’t lose her balance since her hands were still locked behind her back, and swiped his thumb over her red, swollen lip.

He dragged her towards him for a bruising kiss.

“Gods, I love you.” He groaned against her mouth.

She pulled away to smile, “I love you too. Now take off your shirt.”

Cassian threw his head back and laughed but obeyed.

Once his own clothes were on the ground with hers, he opened the door to the back seat of her car and nudged her towards it.

She raised a brow at him and gestured with her still-bound hands. “Are these staying on?”

He stepped into her space and kissed her neck, sucking on the spot between her shoulder and neck that had her whimpering. “Do you want them to stay on?”

Nesta had a hard time responding once he moved to the seat behind her ear. “Yes,” She gasped, her head falling back. “Yes.”

She felt him smirk against her skin.

“Then they stay on,” Cassian commanded roughly.

She sent him another sultry smile. “Whatever you say, Officer.”

Cassian pulled Nesta as close he could get her with her hands cuffed behind her back; her back against his hard chest. One of his large hands wrapped around her throat and the other started rubbing soft circles over her clit. Nesta’s head fell back against his shoulder.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” His voice was rough. “You’ve been driving me crazy with your texts and those fucking pictures. When we get home I want you to show me all those new sets of lingerie.” He nipped at her ear, his fingers moving a little faster. “But maybe you should start with your least favorite because I think I’ll just rip it off you.”

She groaned as he eased one finger inside her. “Oh yeah, you’re ready.”

He removed his finger and bent her over. Her face was pushed into the leather cushion with her knees spread resting on the seat, ass in the air.

Cassian ran a possessive hand over her spine and slapped her ass forcing her to moan into the seat. He stepped up behind her so she could feel his hard length press between her ass cheeks.

“Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.”

And then he pushed into her dripping cunt with one quick thrust. They both moaned loudly as they got used to the feeling. When Nesta moved her hips back trying to gain some friction, he gripped her hips and kept her still.

“Oh, gods, Cassian,” Her moans were muffled by the leather seat.

Chuckling, he started to move. Each thrust brought pleasure surging through him. By the sounds Nesta was making, he knew she was feeling the same.

“Faster.” She demanded. “Harder.”

He grunted and grabbed her hips with both hands, trying his best not to shove her face into the seat but still doing what she asked.

He planted his feet better and then fucked into her with everything he had.

There was a cacophony of sounds; Cassian’s grunts, Nesta’s incomprehensible moans, the wet, vulgar sound of skin on skin, and the rhythmic creaking of the car shaking.

He shifted Nesta’s hip and hit a spot that sent her squealing,

“Yes! Cass, right there!” She screamed and he made sure to hit that spot with every thrust.

Soon enough, he felt her walls clenching around him and he gritted his teeth as she screamed his name as she orgasmed.

Cassian made sure to keep up his pace throughout the entire thing.

When he felt her stop pulsing with the aftershocks, he used an arm to wrap around her middle, pulling her up against him as best he could with her hands still bound. Still inside her, he moved a hand up to fondle her breasts and tweak her nipples, switching between her breasts at random.

His hips sped up, every thrust coaxing a new moan out of Nesta. He wanted to memorize all the sounds she made.

“Please, Cassian.” She gasped, already feeling another orgasm start to build in the pit of her stomach.

Cassian turned her head towards him and planted a surprisingly tender kiss to lips. He felt her smiling and he couldn’t help but smile against her lips, too.

Then the hand at her breasts moved to grip her throat, squeezing tightly until she choked and he lessened his grip a fraction. His other hand, the one wrapped around her waist moved down to rub furiously at her clit. Cassian kept his thrusts hard and fast. Just how she liked it.

Nesta let out a high-pitched squeal at all the sensations. Her mind was fuzzy from the pleasure—every single nerve ending was on fire from Cassian’s touches.

“Come for me, Sweetheart.” He murmured in her ear. That was all she needed, and she exploded. She screamed loudly, head thrown back onto his shoulder giving him perfect access to kiss and suck her neck, and her whole body shook from the reverberations of her release.

The feeling of her pussy clenching like a vice around his cock sent Cassian plowing into his own orgasm and he spilled inside her. She continued to shake as the aftershocks coursed through her body.

Cassian held her against him until they both recovered, hands running soothingly over her body. Then he slowly pulled out of her and she loosed a soft whine.

He chuckled but dug around his discarded pant’s pocket for the key to his handcuffs. He quickly unlocked them and winced at the bright red marks on Nesta’s wrists. She sighed in relief as the metal was removed and gently rubbed her sore wrists.

Instantly, all remaining lust faded away and Cassian was filled with guilt as he gently took Nesta’s wrists in his hands and kissed the tender flesh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

Nesta cut him off, “Cassian, it’s okay.” She lifted his chin to meet her hazy, post-orgasm eyes, “I liked it, don’t worry.”

He just stared at her wrists, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the back seat of the car with her. She gently pushed him against the back and laid down next to him, grabbing the spare blanket tucked under the driver’s seat and tossed it over them.

Nesta ran reassuring hands over Cassian’s guilt-ridden face, as he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close to him. “Really, Cass. If you ever want to bring those home with you, feel free.”

At his raised brows she added, “The ones we already have don’t feel as authentic.”

He searched her face for any discomfort and finding none, laughed. He pulled her even closer and she sighed contentedly at his warmth as his arms tightened around her body.

“I’ll see what other toys I can bring home, too.”

She kissed his chest and he rested his chin on top of her head.

“Happy Anniversary, Babe,” Nesta whispered, smiling into his skin.

Cassian chuckled into her hair and pulled her tighter against him. “Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.”

*****

Taglist:

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ladybookstan · 3 years

Text

One-Shot Viviane and Kallias -

The birth of a Baby✨

Masterlist ✨

The sole purpose of this post is to give an appreciation to Viviane and Kallias. I did something simple.

Word count: 2.861

Kallias was in a routine meeting with the Winter Court Council. Even after the war, some councilors were wary about the alliance with the Night Court. Nothing that the quiet and cunning Kallias could not handle.

But the real excitement was in the Royal Palace, Viviane was helping Briar prepare for her to begin her Valkyrie Training. Ever since Azriel and Feyre rescued Briar and Viviane took her in, their relationship had become a strong friendship.

"Come on, in position, no slouching!" Viviane shouts amusedly above Briar, slumped on the ground. The two felt that basic training before the Training with the Valkyries was necessary. Briar had not spent much time away from the ground.

"How can you do that?! You're pregnant and the baby is coming!" She speaks indignantly. Viviane was late in her pregnancy and was still agile and skilled while fighting.

"I'm pregnant, not sick and on top of everything, I and my little prince are excellent warriors." She lovingly strokes her swollen belly and smiles as she nudges Briar, who is now sitting on the floor.

"Stop insisting that the baby is a boy, I'm with Kallias on this, we are expecting a girl." Viviane crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows defiantly:

"I am the mommy, thank you and I know I am expecting a beautiful strong, and powerful boy like his father." Briar snorts and stands up. Viviane feels a twinge in her stomach, just like the dozens of others she has been feeling over the past few days, but again, she just strokes her belly.

"Okay, I won't argue with my High Lady anymore." Viviane smiles triumphantly:

"Wise choice. Now, get ready!"

Later, after practice, the two were in the living room, Viviane was finishing writing a letter to Mor, who was out of Prythian this week, and Briar reading a book.

Slowly, the baby begins to move, as Vivi's belly tickles, small satisfying and intense shocks. She smiles broadly and wishes that Kallias was with her at this moment instead of at a meeting. He loves to feel the baby kick against his hand and now that the birth is so close, the baby has become more agitated. Something that doesn't bother Viviane. She knows that Kallias will be with her at all times and in the end, all the pain will be worth it, although this does not mean that she is not a little afraid.

Rocking herself on the couch, Vivi tries to find a more comfortable position to accommodate her and her big belly. A servant, Leni, enters the room and brings a tray of juices and cookies.

"Do you need anything, Lady?" Vivi smiles at her:

"I'm fine, I just... need to find a... better position." Léni and Briar help her settle down between the pillows.

"Do you want us to call Kallias?" Briar asks worriedly.

"No, just the usual contractions. Kal is busy right now." Viviane spoke quietly, but she felt the contractions getting stronger. A crease formed between her eyebrows. Did the baby already want to be born? Everything was fine, but they thought they would have more time.

"Lady, the best thing is to call the healer, just in case." Léni suggested softly. Briar agreed, but Viviane did not:

"No, it's okay, we'll just call the healer when it's time... Contractions are normal now, the baby is in the right time... No worries, please." Léni and Briar nodded and after making Vivi comfortable on the couch with cookies and juice, they sat nearby. They were not about to leave their High Lady alone.

After a few more hours, night had come and Kallias was still with the Council. Viviane's contractions were more rhythmic, but the discomfort was minimal. Now she is listening to the representative of a village in the Court, Crev, the male with black eyes and short white hair; a gentle and calm person.

"We are without water supply, Lady, this has been going on for a few weeks, we have some ideas to solve this, but we need your approval." He is sitting in front of Viviane, the two of them are on the balcony, at a small table.

"What ideas?" Leaving her cup of tea on the table, Vivi pays attention to Crev's words. He begins to present the plans that the villagers themselves have made, excellent ideas that Viviane approves of.

After listening to Crev, she listens to four more people and looks for solutions to their problems. Briar and Leni stay with her the whole time. The contractions don't stop and increase more each hour. When Vivi finishes talking to the people, she is exhausted and worried about Kallias, who has not yet arrived. It is exactly 9:00 at night and her mate is still with the accursed Council and no soldiers have heard from him.

"Leni, I need to take a bath, can you prepare for me, please?" Vivi strokes her belly as she speaks, this has become such a natural thing in the last nine months, even before her belly starts to grow.

"Of course, Lady. I gonna prepare a warm bath with natural oils, perhaps that will ease the discomfort a bit."

"That will be great, thank you." Léni bows and leaves the balcony. Briar runs her hand over Viviane's back.

"Since 1:00 this afternoon you have been feeling the contractions. Let me call a healer." Vivi shakes her head:

"Just one more hour and you can call. If the baby is born today, I want Kal here." Her eyes start to glaze over. Damn hormones.

"He'll be here, I know he will." Vivi nods and mentally thanks her friend for being here.

"Now let's talk about you doing all those activities in labor, is that some kind of superpower?" Briar is trying to get Vivi to relax, they both know it, but it's working.

"I am a Lady, dear." The two fall into laughter.

The familiar icy wind blows Viviane's hair, she raises her hand and picks up a snowflake, wondering when her baby will be able to do this too. A few minutes later, Leni says the bath is ready, she and Briar ask Viviane if she wants to help, but the High Lady of the Winter prefers some time alone in a relaxing bath.

In the bathroom, after taking off her clothes, Viviane gets into the large white marble tub. Yes, contrary to what many people think, not everything in the Winter Court is made of ice and they have hot baths too.

Viviane takes a deep breath as she feels another intense contraction. More uncomfortable, rhythmic, and constant contractions are coming. She has known she was in labor for some time. For each fae female, it is a different process, somewhat similar to human females.

Vivi tilts her head to the edge of the tub and feels the comforting warmth envelop her body. She tries not to think too much about the fact that it had been nine hours since she had actually started labor, that her mate had been gone all day and she had had no news. She tried not to think about the fact that she was afraid and she breathed, breathed again, and spent a long time inside the tub. She would try to stay calm, she was safe in her Palace and could feel Kallias by the bond. Everything was fine.

After the bath, Vivi put on a white lace nightgown and then ate her dinner, which had been brought by Leni.

A knock in the High Lady's room startles the three women. Viviane's heart beats too fast and as an involuntary reflex, she strokes her belly.

Leni opens the door, a soldier of the Court is standing there, Elek. Viviane runs to stand in front of him.

"My Lady." He bows.

"Where is he, Elek?" Vivi is trying to keep calm, as much as she can, but this has become something particularly difficult.

"The High Lord is on the southern border, after the meeting with the Council he received a call from Summer Court, The Naga. They have done great damage to our border. Tarquin and Kallias managed to finish them off, but they stayed on the border to sort out the damage done. We have had some deaths, Lady. A messenger was sent to tell you about what was happening, but we don't know what happened to him. So the Lord sent me, he will come soon. He is still with Tarquin." As Elek spoke Viviane tried to keep track of all the facts.

"The Naga? How long has it been since we heard anything about them and now they were on our border?" Elek nods in confirmation. Okay, Kal and Tarquin are done with them. Kal was fine.

"My Lady, everything is fine?" Viviane couldn't pay attention to what Elek was saying. She was dizzy, the contractions only increasing. Briar holds her arm, killing her standing up.

"She's been in labor for almost twelve hours now and she was working out Court's problems, pacing back and forth, climbing stairs, and acting like nothing was happening." Viviane looks indignantly at her friend:

"I wasn't going to lie in bed just because I was feeling uncomfortable contractions, I talked to the midwife a lot and I know my limits."

"Okay, I get it. Can we call the healer and the midwife now?" Briar pushes Vivi away from the door, Leni helps while Elek stands in the doorway uncomfortably.

"Do it." Kallias' firm, loud voice resonates through the walls of the room. Viviane looks over her shoulder and disentangles herself from Briar and Leni to run into the arms of her mate. Kallias holds her tight and kisses her temple.

"You two, call Olea and Veronica. Elek, take some more soldiers to the southern border, I want reinforcements there just in case." The three bow and go to carry out their High Lord's orders. Kallias and Viviane are left alone in the room.

"My love, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what happened today. Tarquin and I were a little busy." Tears begin to fall uncontrollably from Viviane's eyes and she squeezes Kallias' waist tighter.

"Love? Even if you didn't hear from me, you could still feel me through the bond, why are you crying?" Viviane broke free from his arms in exasperation, leaving him confused.

"Why am I crying? Because I'm pregnant and my hormones are a mess, because I was worried, because I'm scared, because my baby will be born soon and I haven't heard from you, because I'm starting to feel pain! Are these reasons good for you? You big idiot!" She snorts and then sniffles.

Kallias is slightly surprised and tries to hold back a laugh, failing miserably. His mate is the most impressive woman in the world and is the most adorable when she is angry.

"And you have a lot of dirt on your shirt." She points. The day has been really hectic for Kallias, the marks on his shirt make that clear.

He takes off his boots and mantle, unbuttons his shirt and pants, and goes into the closet, listening to Viviane's grumbling about how he is fucking showing off.

After putting on a clean pair of pants and shirt, returning to the bedroom, Kallias pulls her to him again, she tries to resist, but purposely fails.

"I am so mad at you." She mumbles against his chest.

"Why, my love?" he runs one hand down her back while the other lovingly caresses her big swollen belly. The part of Viviane's body that he has come to love the most in the last few months. The place where she carried his daughter. Their daughter.

"I don't know." Kallias' laughter could be heard all over Court. Viviane hits his chest, angrily, but soon begins to laugh as well, but a sharp, piercing pain goes through her belly. Viviane lets out a groan and holds her belly with both hands. Kallias holds her up.

"What is it? What are you feeling?" Viviane grabs his hand.

"The baby. The time is coming." She starts trying to breathe calmly, as the midwife had taught her. Thinking about it...

"Where is Olea, hell?" Kallias growls.

"Maybe she's in another labor." Viviane shudders with another strong contraction. Before Kallias can start describing the thousand ways he will kill Olea if she doesn't come soon, she arrives, Briar, Leni and the healer, Veronica, with her.

"To bed, Lady, forgive my delay, my husband is one of the soldiers returning-" She bows and stops talking when she notices the blazing gaze of Kallias, who is now leading Viviane to bed.

"Your High Lady needs you.And when she needs you, you come." Viviane tugs at his shirt sleeve in rebuke for his sniggering tone of voice. The other women present are surprised and slightly startled.

"It's okay, guys. Now, can I get some help here? The pain only increases." Viviane speaks through clenched teeth.

Kallias helps her lie down on the bed and sits on her side, Briar goes to the other side and holds Viviane's hand. Olea and Veronica prepare to examine her.

"Lord, are you staying? This is a women's exam and it will still take a while for the baby to be born." The midwife asks Kallias. He looks at the woman as if to turn her into an ice statue.

"Of course I will stay. I'm not leaving her side."

And he didn't leave. Not for the next few hours when the exams were done, or when the day dawned and the severe pains started and Viviane started screaming and squeezing his hand almost to the point of breaking. Kallias stayed by his mate and wife's side as she put all her strength into bringing their baby into this world. He brushed her hair out of her face and ran a wet cloth over her neck when she was tired and drenched with sweat. Kallias kissed Viviane's temple every time she blamed him for getting her pregnant and kissed her again every time she took it back.

And when Vivi collapsed onto the pillows and said she couldn't do it anymore, Kallias sat behind her, fitting her between his legs and beginning to massage the strained and aching back of his mate, who rested her head on his shoulder.

"You can, my love." He murmured in her ear. Viviane's skin was shiny from sweat and glistening from the rays of sunlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"My Lady, just one more push! Just one more!" Olea lifts her head to speak to Viviane and turns her attention to the middle of the High Lady's legs.

Viviane musters all that is left of her strength and in a grunt, she pushes, again and again. Finally a slight relief runs through her body, and she falls back against Kallias.

A sharp, desperate scream sounds through the walls.

"Congratulations, my Lady, she is a beautiful baby girl." Olea hands the baby to Veronica, who confirms that she is healthy and wraps her in a blanket.

The healer hands the baby to Viviane, who is already holding her arms outstretched.

When she receives her daughter in her arms, it is the happiest moment of her life. Something indescribable. A perfect and so precious moment. Instructed by Olea, Viviane takes her breast into the mouth of the little baby who begins to suckle eagerly. Vivi closes her eyes and gives her daughter a gentle kiss on the head. The other women leave the room to leave the family alone, Briar giving Vivi a huge smile.

"I am so proud of you, my love." Kallias whispers in her ear, looking fascinated at their baby over Viviane's shoulder.

"You were right all along. We have a little girl." Kallias kisses her shoulder as she sighs extremely tired.

"A little girl just like her mother. Thank you for that gift, love." As if in response to her father, the baby sucks Viviane's breast harder.

"Oh, she has strength." Viviane moves between Kallias' legs and puts the baby in a better position.

"What will be the name of the Heiress of Winter Court?" Kallias does not hesitate to answer:

"Ayanna. Because she is our Beautiful and Eternal Flower." The baby makes a delicate, soft sound and Viviane smiles.

"I think Ayanna likes it." Kallias can't stop looking at his daughter. Bountiful white hair fills her little head, her face still flushed and with some remnants of childbirth, but you can already see the resemblance to Viviane and to him.

Kallias wonders how he can already love so much a little being that has just arrived in this world, because his chest feels like it is going to explode with happiness at any moment.

Because here, with the two most important women in his life, Kallias is more than complete.

And this kind of happiness? It cannot be bought. It is a gift received to be kept and protected. And Kallias would destroy anything that threatened his family.

"Welcome to your home, daughter." Kallias whispers as he finally takes his daughter in his arms.

#apreciation viviane and kallias #kallias x viviane #vivillias acotar #viviane high lady of the winter court #viviane apreciation #kallias #high lord of the winter court #high couple of winter court #baby vivillias #acotar #acosf #acowar #sarah j. maas #my one-shot and my edits

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kythed · 3 years

Text

“you can hear it in the silence” - a collection of conversations between you and futakuchi kenji.

1. april 14th, 7:56pm.

“it’s terribly boring, isn’t it?” the voice comes from right near your ear. you start, turning to see a young guy dressed in jeans, a tee, and a baseball cap, slouchy and messy in the most attractive and purposeful way. “the movie, I mean.”

you turn your eyes back towards the screen — some spanish neo-noir retelling of the same old “sexpot femme fatale turned domestic by a dashing hero with a horse” plotline. “yeah, it is. I only came so my film major friends would finally respect me.”

“that’s valid,” he whispers with a snort. an older man sitting beside him shushes him. “I only came so I could make fun of the people who only came to impress their film major friends.”

“oh, ouch,” you say, grinning. “way to attack like 90% of the foreign film audience.”

“I’d say it’s something more like 97%, actually,” he says, briefly glancing at the movie. the dark haired, sultry love interest is batting her lashes at the brooding protagonist, nightgown slipping off her shoulder. “the remaining 3% is horny teenagers who can’t yet figure out how to erase their search history.”

despite being in the middle of a crowded theater, you laugh, giggle echoing off the walls. several people turn around to shoot you dirty looks, and you immediately clap an apologetic over your mouth. oops.

“I’m kenji futakuchi,” your seat-neighbor whispers, extending a hand. “unprofessional film critic, engineering major, and thai tea hater. I’m willing to take you out for boba on our first date, but if you order thai tea it will also be our last.”

“bold of you to assume we’ll even have a first date,” you say, shaking his hand with another quiet laugh.

“oh, we will,” he says with what can only be described as a bona fide smirk. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier.”

before you can respond, the curmudgeonly old man beside kenji leans over and scowls. “if you kids want to keep flirting, do so outside. some of us are here for cultural enrichment.”

kenji glances at you, face spelling out mischief. “you heard the man. shall we?”

for a moment, you consider saying no. but then reason kicks into gear and you stand up, dusting popcorn off your lap. “we shall.”

(discovery number one: your hand fits perfectly in his.)

2. may 2nd, 11:17am.

“you know, this actually isn’t so bad.” kenji takes another cautious sip. “still can’t hold a candle to jasmine.”

“I respect that,” you say, offering him a taste of your drink. “I feel like everyone who hates thai tea is just jumping on the bandwagon. it’s pretty decent.”

“you’re pretty decent,” he says petulantly, snatching your tea and replacing it with his own.

you roll your eyes. “your comebacks suck. still can’t believe I agreed to go out with you.”

kenji feigns a look of surprise. “oh, are we going out? I thought this was a platonic thing.”

you send a pointed look at his hand resting on your thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles in your skin.

kenji follows your gaze and suppresses a smile, shrugging. “friends do that.”

it’s a cool spring day, the air smelling of his cologne — vanilla, coffee, and burnt orange — and the eucalyptus growing in front of the cafe. the sunshine is fresh and pale, casting a glowy halo over kenji’s brunette mess of hair. he smiles rather angelically, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“and do friends do this?” you say softly, leaning forward so your nose is just centimeters from his.

kenji gulps, adam’s apple bobbing painfully in his throat. his voice cracks with his next words. “y-yeah. I do this with my buddies all the time. no homo.”

you slowly bring your hand up to cup his jaw, letting your eyes linger on his lips before glancing back up and smiling. “oh, good. ‘cause I do this with my girls all the time, too. full homo.”

“yeah?”

“mhm,” you purr, trying to channel some of that femme fatale energy, leaning even closer so you can feel his warm breath on your mouth — and then you pull away with a cackle, leaving kenji blinking down at you with reproach.

“women are so cruel,” he sighs wistfully, fanning his shirt and running a hand through his hair.

“sorry,” you chirp, not sorry at all. “I don’t kiss on the first date.”

“you don’t kiss on the first date?” kenji repeats. “so what’s the timeline — we hold hands today, and then you let me hug you next week, and then we kiss in a month, and then in like fifty years we finally fu—”

“kenji!” you say, whipping around. you’re scandalized. there’s a family with primary school aged kids sitting at the other table, shrieking with laughter and bouncing around like pinballs on a boba-fueled sugar high. “keep it PG.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything bad,” kenji complains. “I was just gonna say that in fifty years we finally, uh… furbish the condo we purchase together.”

“sure you were,” you say, and kenji just laughs. there’s something in the way he looks at you… something soft and affectionate that makes you think he might actually intend to stick around for fifty years. it scares you a little — but in a good way.

later that day, when kenji drops you off at your front porch, you lean forward again. usually you keep your word, but today’s an exception.

(discovery number two: he tastes like colgate and thai tea.)

3. august 21st, 8:02am.

“what the hell,” you cough, squinting through the smoke. you can barely hear yourself over the shrill beeping of the fire alarm resounding around your apartment. “kenji?”

kenji emerges from behind the fridge, nonchalantly leaning on the wall with a nervous smile. “hey, baby. sleep well?”

“don’t you ‘hey, baby’ me, mister,” you say, marching forward, fanning the smoke away with your oversized sleep shirt. (well, technically it’s his shirt, and that’s why it’s oversized. it fits perfectly fine on him.) “what in the world did you do?”

“why is it that when something goes wrong you always automatically blame me?” he complains, coughing.

“because it’s always your fault,” you say, gently but firmly pushing him aside to reveal, sitting innocently on the counter… a smoking toaster with two pieces of bread (burnt nearly completely black) resting in the slots. oh lord. “kenji. babe. darling.”

“ooh, keep going, please,” kenji coos, yelping when you lightly pinch his elbow. “hey!”

he’s about to retaliate before you double over in laughter, holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. you choke out giggles between breaths, hardly able to keep balance. “you — (wheeze) — you nearly burnt down the kitchen — (wheeze) — trying to make toast?”

“it’s not as easy as it looks,” kenji insists, gingerly picking the slices of bread (although they’re more like crackers now) out from the toaster. “I’m sorry that I wanted to do something nice for my beautiful girlfriend. and I’m sorry that the only thing I could handle was toast and coffee. well, technically just coffee, I guess.”

he picks up a mug from the counter and offers it to you. “it might be kinda cold now. sorry. I tried.”

he’s so earnest and adorable and lovely in that moment — standing in the middle of the clouded kitchen in just mismatched socks and an old pair of boxers, holding the coffee out for you to see — that you can hardly contain yourself.

“god, I love you,” you say without thinking, the last word catching in your throat as you look up. oh. oops. kenji’s staring at you, unblinking, big brown eyes filled with… surprise? “I mean, I meant —”

“you love me?”

“I, uh,” you falter. this isn’t you; you’re supposed to be the calm and collected one. “this isn’t how I wanted to say it, but—”

“but you do, right? you love me?” kenji sets the mug back down and pulls you in by the waist, grinning broadly and resting his forehead against yours. your heart is pulsing erratically, but a smile big enough to match his somehow finds its way onto your face. you nod, and kenji immediately kisses you hard, tangling his fingers in the back of your hair.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly after finally parting. you feel the uncomfortable warmth of your face and the swollenness of your lips... but you can’t quite bring yourself to care. “I love you a lot.”

“you love me so much that you even tried to make me toast,” you laugh. “and you brought me cold coffee in my second favorite mug.”

“no, wait,” says kenji, glancing back towards said mug. “that’s your favorite mug.”

“no, my favorite is the green one with the—”

“—with the orange flowers,” kenji groans in realization, slapping a limp, penitent hand to his cheek. “I’m a failure of a boyfriend. I deserve to go to boyfriend jail.”

“you do,” you agree, nodding solemnly. “but lucky for you, I have a get-out-of-jail-free card right here.”

“oh?” says kenji, a devilish smile quirking up the corners of his lips.

you hum and offer him your clenched fist, like you’re about to place something in his palm. but when he extends his own outstretched hand, you interlace your fingers with his instead. “yep. right here.”

“you think you’re so clever,” kenji sighs, nonetheless bringing your hand up to press a brief kiss to your knuckles.

“I do.” you shuffle towards the counter to take a sip of the coffee — sure enough, it’s cold. (but he still made it exactly the way you like it.) “c’mon. breakfast.”

(discovery number three: burnt toast doesn’t taste so bad when you eat it with someone you love.)

4. november 1st, 10:38pm.

the commute across town from your university to your apartment is on the longer side, around forty minutes. it feels even longer late at night, though, on your way home from your part time job.

the subway rattles on its tracks as it slows to rest at a stop (but not yours) and a handful of sleepy passengers stumble out, swinging briefcases and pulling their scarves a little tighter. you stifle a yawn, slumping back into your seat.

“you okay?”

you smile. ever since you got hired a couple months ago, kenji’s insisted on coming to “pick you up” from work to take the train back with you, even though he works all the way across town. (he’ll probably stay the night — he has a drawer full of his things at your place these days, complete with a dozen wrinkled t-shirts, old soccer shorts, and a bundle of irreparably tangled chargers. he hasn’t bothered to bring his own shampoo over yet, though, claiming that “yours smells so nice and fruity” and “men’s shampoo just smells like nondescript testosterone and insecurity.” he’s right of course, but all the same, you’d rather he not use up all of yours.)

“yeah, I’m okay,” you sigh, taking his hand and feeling him begin to rub circles on your palm. you close your eyes. “just tired.”

“hi ‘okay-just-tired,’ I’m dad,” kenji says slyly, and you open one incredulous eye.

“did you really…?”

“I really did,” kenji says, puffing up his chest. “you walked right into it.”

you groan and fall on top of him dramatically, burying your face in his thick fleece jacket. “I’m too dead for this. I’m like frankenstein before he was reanimated — just a bunch of limbs and organs in a useless, fleshy pile.”

“technically, he’s frankenstein’s monster,” says kenji, petting your hair absentmindedly. “frankenstein’s the name of the doctor. cute literary allusion, though.”

“do you ever shut up?” your voice comes out muffled by kenji’s coat, but not at all devoid of its intended irritation.

“occasionally,” he says as you lift your head. he pulls you closer with one arm until you’re practically sharing a seat, legs interlocked, your temple resting on his shoulder and his chin nestled in your hair. “when I’m sleeping. when I’m eating — well, sometimes. sometimes I talk with my mouth full.”

“yeah, I’ve borne witness to that,” you say, wrinkling your nose. you’ve tried to improve kenji’s table manners countless times (especially in light of your family’s thanksgiving dinner soon approaching), but it’s all been in vain. most likely because he enjoys seeing you get worked up about his not using a coaster, etc. “disgusting.”

“when I’m concentrating on physics,” he continues, as if he hadn’t heard you. “when I’m in the library. when I’m kissing pretty girls.”

he bends down and tries to give you a peck, but you gasp and dodge it. “girls? plural? you’re out here kissing pretty girls other than me?”

“when I’m kissing one specific pretty girl,” kenji corrects himself, grinning.

you feel your own grin stretch across your face. “and which pretty girl is that?”

“my pretty girl,” he says smugly, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

you scoff. “corny.”

“you like it.”

you chew on your inner cheek, trying and failing to suppress your smile. “you know I do.”

the train’s speakers crackle alive, a cool automated voice emanating from their unseen perches: “approaching hiwamari station. projected arrival in: 1 minute.”

“alright, time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” kenji huffs, lugging you onto your feet. you hang limp in his arms like a rag doll, unwilling to bear your own weight. “you are perfectly capable of standing. shape up before I alert the authorities, you hooligan.”

“hmm,” you groan, finally arighting yourself with some difficulty. you want to ask where in the world he learned the word ‘hooligan,’ but your brain can hardly afford you even the most basic cognition right now. “it’s too late, and my knees hurt, and I’m tired, and I saw an ad for that new vietnamese place at the last station, and now I want banh mi. but I can’t have banh mi because there’s none on this side of town, and that irritates me.” you take a deep breath. “also, I’m cold.”

kenji laughs and slips a loose arm around your waist as the doors slide open, gently guiding you down onto the platform. the night air bites at your skin, painting goosebumps in its wake. you’re about ready to just sit down on the ground and curl into a frustrated, exhausted ball when he crouches down, fingers straightening and smoothing the lapels of your coat. “well, I can’t really help with the sore knees and the hankering for banh mi part, but I’m pretty sure you’re cold because you’ve had your buttons undone this entire time. dummy.”

he buttons your jacket quickly and deftly, careful to avoid pinching you in the process. a particular kind of warmth bubbles up in your chest at his concentrated expression — kenji likes to maintain his effortless, reckless reputation, but when it comes down to the bare bones of it all, he’s still the type of guy who’ll button his girlfriend’s coat for her. on the walk from the subway to your apartment, his arm doesn’t leave your body once, keeping you close to his side and shielded from the wind.

“I’m not a dummy.”

“sure, dummy.”

(discovery number four: body heat — specifically, kenji futakuchi’s body heat — is by far the most effective way to stay warm.)

5. december 23rd, 12:01pm.

“who’s your best friend?” the question pops into your mind and out of your mouth almost instantaneously. kenji, who’s lounging on the sofa next to you, turns, eyebrows furrowed. there’s a small douglas fir in the corner of the room, minimally decked with what ornaments you could “diy” from around the house: snowflakes made of sticky notes, bedazzled plastic utensils, etc. several small packages have been haphazardly tossed around the tree’s base, yours neatly wrapped in red tissue paper and string, kenji’s covered in newspaper and excessive scotch tape. (he tried. maybe not his best, but he tried.)

“depends,” he says, turning off his phone and tossing it onto the carpet. “what’s your definition of best friend?”

“you know,” you say, helplessly splaying your fingers. “monica and rachel. frodo and sam. taylor swift and karlie kloss.”

“hold on,” kenji says, holding up a hand. “didn’t taylor swift and karlie kloss have a falling out?”

“yeah, but for the sake of the argument,” you insist. you narrow your eyes. “wait. how do you know about that?”

“you talk about it every time you listen to that one album, which is at least once a month,” kenji says with a grin. “probably more like twice, actually.”

“oh.” you flush, making a mental note to use earbuds more often. “anyways. answer the question.”

“wait, but you just gave me a bunch of examples,” kenji complains. he glances briefly out the window, which is iced over like a sugar cookie, obscuring the snowscape outside. mariah plays faintly in the background, jingling and whistle tones echoing through the halls. “you didn’t define anything.”

“a best friend,” you begin, faltering and taking a moment to think. a best friend… what is a best friend, really? you frown for a moment before smiling brightly. “a best friend is a commitment. it’s when you commit to being there for somebody when they need you. and it’s when you commit to finding that person when you need them, too.”

kenji lets out a low whistle. “okay then, socrates.”

“it wasn’t that deep,” you say with a laugh. “so. who’s yours?”

kenji grins boyishly, face lighting up like a christmas tree topper. “easy. you’re my best friend.”

oh. you weren’t expecting that. your chest gives an involuntary little thump of pleasure. “me? what about kamasaki?”

“mmm,” kenji muses, counting on his fingers. “he’s, like, my fourth best friend. maybe third on a good day. but you’re the one I go to first.”

you have the sudden urge to wrap your limbs around him like a koala and never let go; only your dignity keeps you from tackling him right then and there. you clear your throat, praying he can’t hear your thoughts — he’d never let you live it down. “you’re mine, too.”

kenji doesn’t respond, just smiles and rolls off the couch onto the floor with a thud, spreading out on the carpet like a seastar. the silence doesn’t bother you, though — silence (what little you can get of it) is comfortable with you two. plus, it’s never really silent. there’s always something there, something very undefinable but very real.

(discovery number five: you are in love.)

#you guys seemed to really like the last of these so I might make it a series??#cackles #also ly if you see this the last one was supposed to be for the event #I'm sorry it's so late #also I got carried away and made it a whole thing #I hope it still counts T-T #futakuchi kenji #futakuchi kenji x reader #futakuchi #futakuchi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #hqcorenet

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