#it's a few weeks old at this point but i drew it at the same time i drew those other dca expressions.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

judeswhore · 6 months

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this video sparked something inside of me

18+, minors dni

“missed you so much,” levi’s voice was strained, his tone a little lower in pitch as he sunk his cock into you for the first time in three weeks, pressed his hips forward until he was buried balls deep in your warmth. he stilled for a few moments, panted heavily in your ear and you knew he was fighting for composure, the muscles in his arms flexing when you ran your hands over them. “forgot how fucking good you feel.”

his words went straight to your pussy, sent another flood of wetness over his cock and pulled a soft whimper from your throat. three weeks apart was making everything more intense, had your body feeling extra sensitive beneath your boyfriends and part of you knew neither of you were going to last very long. levi drew his hips back, only pulled halfway out of you before pushing back in and the moan you let out was almost drowned out by his deep groan.

“baby,” you keened, nails sinking into his shoulders, head tipping back into the pillows as he adopted a slow, toe curling pace. the drag and pull of his cock against your walls was almost lazy, he was taking his time, letting you adjust to the dull ache that came with him stretching you out. your pussy clung to him, reshaping to take his cock fully and the way his tip nudged at your cervix had your breath hitching. you’d half forgotten what it felt like to have him so deep inside of you. “you’re so big.”

levi’s head lifted from where he’d had it tucked away in your neck and his wrecked expression almost knocked the wind out of you. the knot of pleasure between his eyebrows and the dark of his eyes was stupidly attractive, made your tummy dip and your clit ache, hips shifting upwards in search of more contact. he kept up his slow thrusts, one hand coming up to cup your jaw and tilt your mouth closer to his. he kissed you softly.

“i know, sweetheart, but you’re taking it so well. missed how good you are f’me.” he licked into your mouth, tongue urging your lips further open and you swallowed his low moan eagerly, desperate to hear more. you’d had nothing but your imagination and old videos for the last few weeks, the occasional dirty phone call here and there that just wasn’t the same. you’d missed how good he felt, how pretty he sounded when he got all whiney and you were determined to have him whimpering in your ear.

the tip of his cock nudged your sweet spot on a particularly good roll of his hips and it was you who gave a pathetic whine, back arching from the bed until your tits were pressed firmly against his chest. he gave a quiet grunt in reply because your cunt had squeezed tight around him, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his cock and dripping down onto his sheets. you were ridiculously wet, soaked to the point your boyfriend could fuck into you with little resistance, the slick noises of him filling you up bouncing around the bedroom.

“fuck, do that again, baby. you’re- fuck - you’re incredible.” he whimpered against your lips, eyes falling closed as that crease of pleasure got deeper between his brows. you did as you were told, tightening your walls around him, pussy sucking his cock back in each time he drew his hips back, desperate not to let him leave. “yeah, just like that.”

the sound of his hips hitting yours and the echo of both of your moans grew progressively louder, a clear sign you were both hurtling closer to the edge. levi’s cock twitched inside of you, the arm resting beside your head starting to tremble with the effort of keeping himself up. the angle of his hips shifted and he lifted himself up a little more, pressed his free hand against your thigh to pin it further open. then his head was dipping and you knew he watching his cock sliding in and out of you. a deep moan vibrated in his chest, his pace picking up just slightly, tip of his cock bullying against your sweet spot until you were trembling beneath him.

“look how pretty you are, baby. pussy looks so fucking pretty, she’s just making a mess of my cock, bet she missed me, hm?” he was starting to ramble, babbling praise about how pretty you are and how good you’re taking him, his hips faltering ever so slightly as his orgasm started to build. your own wasn’t far away, thighs shaking when levi let go of the one he’d been holding and instead snuck his hand into the minimal space between your bodies.

the rough pad of his thumb found your clit and you swore, head tipping back and levi used the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat. teeth scraped across the soft skin, bit down and sucked marks that he soothed with the warmth of his tongue, each action making it harder to think. pleasure coiled in the pit of your tummy, grew tighter with each expert circle of your boyfriend’s thumb on your clit and each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls.

“y’gonna cum f’me? cum on my cock and make me proud.” he let out a string of moans and whimpers against your jaw, his lips working there way up to yours and he kissed you just as the dam of pleasure broke. you came around him with a soft cry, nails biting into his skin and most definitely leaving marks, back arching as you trembled. he fucked you down into the mattress, hips picking up their pace as he chased his own orgasm, desperate now to fill you.

levi’s mouth hovered over yours, lips parted as he drank in your wrecked noises, the pleasure too much for you it was impossible to keep kissing him. words of praise left him, compliments that only seemed to prolong the aftershocks of your orgasm, made your body flush and your pussy clench, so warm and wet and tight around levi’s cock that it took only moments before he was twitching and fucking you full of cum.

he dropped his face back into your neck, his whimpers sending goosebumps across your skin as you held him, rubbed his back as he shook on top of you. he’d almost completely collapsed onto your body, bones weak as he emptied himself into you with slow lazy pumps of his hips. you left wet kisses over his shoulder, tried to catch your breath as he tried to come back to earth, both of you so wrecked it was impossible to speak.

#levi rambles🧸#leigh’s baby blurbs #sinclaiirs baby blurbs #levi colwill #levi colwill fic #levi colwill smut #levi colwill blurb #levi colwill one shot #levi colwill x reader

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queer-little-demigod · 5 days

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Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #x fem!reader #first request #requested #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #you got an artist inside you #fluff imagine

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goldsbitch · 3 months

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That one taxi drive

part 8 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Thanks for coming.

warning: pure angst this time and tiny smut (no minors), cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

I managed to delete one full draft of this and I'm still not ok with it. Save your drafts, kids.

"Just be cool and act like you belong," was the last text Y/N received from Lando. It was meant more as an encouragement rather than anything else. He sensed from Y/N's hesitant replies that nerves were getting to her.

Y/N was supposed be with her father this week. Instead she was standing in yet another hotel lobby, this time in the middle of Barcelona. It was a strange feeling, her name being secretly listed on his room with the knowledge of the hotel staff and his assistant only. Adrenaline running high. Dirty little secret that had to be kept hidden away - now why was this turning her on?! She felt a bit like a hooker, bit like a fan and just a little bit like a girlfriend. Her and Lando were nowhere near the last option yet, but the thoughts had started creeping in lately in Y/N mind. They'd rarely go few hours without texting and few days without a facetiming. Lando was yet to come to his own room, as he had some media duties to fulfill. And there was no way he would greet her downstairs with the photographers waiting outside the entrance.

She waited at the counter, big glasses and big hat, clothes that she did not normally wear. It was all a little too intense around the official f1 hotel. Dirty little secret. She could have some fun with that. An overly annoyed receptionist lightly nodded once Y/N said her name. She felt some disapproving looks from the girl behind the counter. What was that - disgust? Nevertheless, she received a room card and a huge bouquet with a card.

"This was left for you, you will probably know from who," the receptionist was really not afraid to put in her own opinion, hidden in the way she spoke to Y/N, who found it quite amusing. Y/N panicked a bit. She and Lando both agreed that confidentiality was the top priority for the good of them both, so what the hell was this. Y/N shared one fake smile with the receptionist, grabbed both of the things and headed straight to the elevator, not wanting to hang around too long with a giant bouquet that drew attention.

"Wait miss, the breakfast starts at-" yelled the receptionist after her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, thanks," cut her off Y/N, thinking to herself how in the hell could such a prominent place have such tragic receptionist. Only once the elevator doors closed, she relaxed a bit and finally took a look at the flowers in her hands. It is hard to resist the power of a bouquet. Y/N never received one before from a guy, only from her grandpa, who was an old school gentleman. Smile crept to her previously serious face.

Card read "Thanks for coming" - and Y/N knew she'd be keeping it forever.

All her fluffy thoughts were sharply interrupted by the elevator floor opening at the first floor, extended lobby and conference rooms. Joining her in the elevator were two random people in different team attire, but Y/N attention was immediately caught by the one and only. Oh, and his teammate. Brilliant. It took Lando less than a millisecond to recognize her. One smile sneaked in before he came back to his senses and regained control of his face and gestures. Their eyes locked. Y/N's body shifted. She became anything but relaxed. Lando was in a middle of a conversation with Oscar and had to ask him to repeat his last point after getting over his initial shock. They all entered and Y/N paid attention into which floors they were heading. Oscar was the only one heading to the same flood and Lando and her.

Oscar was blabbering unusually today and was not planning on stopping it. Lando could care less. She was right there. He wanted to kiss her so badly, Oscar and all the others be damned. He would love to comment on the hat. He would kill for taking her by her waist and biting her lip just a little bit. It's been a little too long since Italy for impatient Lando. Their looks met for what must have been the seventieth time during this elevator ride. Lando shot her one quick cheeky smile, which almost broke Y/N. You could cut the tension between them with a kitchen knife. The longest elevator ride in the history of elevator rides.

"Oh yeah, and why do you think that is?" he tried to trick Oscar into talking so that he could shut off. Elevator stopped, people left, leaving the trio in elevator alone.

Y/N was panicking for real this time. It would be too obvious to get of at the same floor as they would, right? There must have been very few rooms on the very top. A decision was made and she pressed the button leading to the floor below that. Her awkward movement caught attention of the second McLaren driver for a moment. She smiled awkwardly and avoided any additional contact. Lando was a bit confused by her actions, his impatience growing by the second. She confidently got off one floor than she was supposed to go, leaving Lando bewildered. He and Oscar continued upstairs.

"I think we need to talk more about how to approach the engineers together, Lando. Do you have time now?" Lando had lots of things right now and time for his teammate was not one of those.

"No, sorry man. Gotta prep....Oh, and I forgot something downstairs. Stupid head today," he mumbled, went back to the elevator and waved at Oscar while pushing the button as Y/N had.

The door opened. Lando and Y/N's looks met once again, this time with no prying eyes.

"Got lost?" Lando remarked.

"Just wanted to avoid Oscar. He's not my favorite McLaren driver."

"Oh. That brings up a question who is your favorite driver out of all of the teams."

She smirked and walked all the way to him. Lando hit the elevator button and bit her upper lip. Then he kissed her so deeply one would think it was impossible to untangle them apart again. Y/N melted in his embrace. Any all thought leaving her mind leaving her completely locked in the present moment. Shame that elevator rides had to end sometime.

They left the elevator checking all the hallways for any people passing by.

"Thank you for the flowers and the card," Y/N chatted casually.

"Ha, the card needs to be deserved though," smiled Lando like a teenage boy.

"Does it now?" she asked.

"Uhm...You get to keep that only if you come," he continued with a wink. Her cheeks went red.

She could not help but objectify his body quietly. As summer approached, he had more of a tan, highlighting his toned muscles. They reached his suite quietly, she walked past him, exploring the way light hit the back of his neck. His hair in perfect disheveled state. There are just some details that can't a Facetime call does not catch.

The room was in complete stillness in contrast to the buzz of the hotel lobby. Lando was nervous in the best way possible. She was here. To be with him, to watch him race and he only wanted to make her proud. And satisfied. He let her walk to explore the place, admiring her from behind the same way she had just second ago. Y/N heart went to normal heartbeat once they were finally alone and together. Which was the precise moment when Lando's went up. Her perfume filled the room and he knew he'd be secretly checking out the brand and take a note of it. It felt strangely familiar and other-worldly at the same time. As she stood by the large window, Lando noticed the strap slipping down her shoulder. How was he supposed to stay still? He approached her and hugged her softly from behind, kissing the shoulder which called for him. He felt proud when her he saw the goosebumps he created.

"Like what you see?" he whispered to her ear and bit it lightly. Y/N felt like he had a talent for finding all the secret spots on her body.

"I like what I feel," she sighed and closed her eyes.

"This is merely a starter," he smiled to his kiss.

"I have airport sweat all over me. Would mind helping me wash up?"

His voice went really up with excitement escaping his body. "I would mind being excluded from that, honey."

The shower would have been big enough for five people. But Lando and Y/N stood so close to each other you'd think there was room barely for one of them. He had undressed her painfully slowly, enjoying the hungry look she obviously could not control. Whenever she reached for his own McLaren shirt, he'd reply with something along the lines "Ladies first." Y/N really wanted to look him in the eyes, but how was she supposed when the water falling on his skin made it all wet and shiny. She reached for his shower gel and rubbed it on his chest, making a detailed map of his muscles to imprint in her memory. There was nothing to hide, she felt Lando's erection pushing on her body. He was in a particularly raw mood ever since he saw her today, built up energy coming out. No time for sweet gestures. His left hand gripped her ass and the right one traced the the line from her boobs, squeezed her nipple just a little harder than ever before and it was sending Y/N to a different dimension. Somehow, he got even closer to her than before, pushing her until she was pressed against the shower wall. Water mixed with saliva when their tongues touched and they both got lost in each other. Her hand in his hair and his pressing her neck like nobody who would call her a friend would. She could come right then and there. It was passion mixing with supressed feelings, both of them being really honest only when they did not speak. He squeezed her ass again and pulled her legs up and around his on waist. She opened her eyes only to meet his hungry look. She sensed a question and without needing to hear it being asked she nodded in agreement. He was strong enough to give her full support and felt a little too proud when he saw her give in completely in his direction. He was slow when he first entered her, giving her time to adjust, making sure he was careful enough to keep going. It was a relief to feel him inside, finally after some many wishful nights. Once you taste the sweetest candy, it's impossible to go back to the usual stuff. And together, they were the premium shit. Lando soon found a steady rhytm and her soft moans echoed through the bathroom. She fell completely into his embrace, letting him lead and do anything he wanted - because his instinct was apparently set on the exact setting designed for her body. He wished she hadn't heard his phone ring. And in a way she did too. But he felt her body tensing with every beat of his ringtone. "Lando..." she said in a tone that suggested that the moment was over.

"Just a moment more, honey," he pleaded. Seven thousand moments was what he was really asking.

"We can't...you need to be at places." He did not give a shit - but she did, so he stopped. For a moment they were both catching up with their breath. She smiled at him and kissed him. Lando's erection was not going away easily. "We'll finish later," she promised.

He smiled into their kiss: "Don't think you'll get away so easily next time." Their shared last look, before he reluctantly left the shower, cursing his PR manager who just had to book another interview for this afternoon. It got real quiet for Y/N right after he left. She stood in the shower for sometime, gathering up her thoughs. She has had some pretty stressful couple of days finishing her course and had some deadlines to meet. Managed to get everything in check for the end of the year, but every free minute she had was occupied by the guy, who just left minutes after she came to see him. All of a sudden, it was hard to feel excited about this whole thing. Yes. She understood, or at least tried, the level of responsibility he held. Hell, she even told him to go work. So why where was this irational come down coming from?

She left the hotel room hoping she picked a time when most of the crew would already be working and headed to the grid in time for qualifying. They'd agreed that normal VIP pass would be the right decision at this stage, no paddock or McLaren base. It all seemed just a little too intimidating. NDA was sent to Y/N email for her to sign the minute she jumped on the plane. She signed it with a strange bitter feeling in her stomach once Lando left their room, still not sure how she felt about it, not sure if the fact this had been dealt with completely by his assistant, instead of him bringing it up, was alienating her. So she sat on the grandstand, alone once again. Only this time it hurt just a bit more to sit there by herself. It was all or nothing with Lando. Up and down. Stale than suddenly full speed. Don't be seen. Don't stand out. Don't be crushing so obviously. She gathered intrusive thoughts who kept her company while people around her screamed with joy and anger depending on the situation. She never expected to feel to strange in Barcelona. Hell, she'd been looking forward to it for days, so why was it like this?

Lando was over the moon and head over heels. Everything clicked - his car, the team and Y/N was watching him from right here in on the track. He felt proud. Showing off was his normal personality trait, but that had skyrocketed this week to abnormal heights. There was just something in the air making life intoxicating. He was handing out smiles as it if was oxygen and the crowds absorbed as if their life depended on it. He took all he had and gave everything to the quali. Got in the zone and the wind flew in his direction.

"P1, Lando, P1. Congrats." were dry words his engineer said as soon as everything was set. Lando could carry the whole team excitement wise in that moment, so he didn't need encouragement from him. "Yes!!! Yes, baby, Yes, here we go! I can't believe it!" He beat them all. An achievement he needed so much after all that hard work. P1 meant at least a chance of a podium. He was quick and a good driver - and he finally believed it again.

Y/N wondered for a moment if this was what if felt like being dead. Watching and not interfering. She immediately slapped herself mentally for being so overly dramatic. Just like Lando, she also had big dreams of her future and it felt like a privilege to be there to see her crush crushing his. No, this was crazy, she was overhelmed by the energy the crowds around produced and by the obvious joy that streamed out of Lando during post race interview. She chucked and yelled a loud "Oh come on!" when he said that that the result was great, but the real battle was tomorrow. If only he could stop sometimes for a moment and enjoy it while it lasted, she thought. There was just a tiny tiny part of her, that wished this had happened the race before. Just so that she could have more time with. Surely he was suppose to have meetings and getting ready and stuff. Not exactly an envinroment for late night fucks and talks.

He joined her in his hotel room later that evening. Overjoyed, excited, slightly nervous and repeating his jokes about Leclerc 2023 season and how he will surely follow his steps a bit too much. Y/N sat there, listening and having Lando explain to her the whole deal, as she was quite new to this stuff. He was wrapped in his own head, for very obvious reasons. Y/N felt as if he was and also was not there at the same time. She was quiet and let her anxiety out only once he fell asleep. Honestly, what was the point of her being here. The unspoken hope about their potential future she held deep inside was slowly slipping away. She felt selfish, hated herself for it and yet knew her needs were valid. The initial excitement with which she arrived here leaving like a long distance friend on a Sunday afternoon. Lando's mind would usually run wild before a race. This time it was Y/N. She was happy to be the one to share his afternoon and night. Her skin just crawled when the thought that this was just a casual hook up for him entered her mind. Who was the one keeping him company on the next race?

Once Lando kissed he goodbye and quickly left for his pre race work, she buried herself in her phone, doomscrolling endlessly. At one point she debated not going to the race. Nobody would notice. But she would feel like an absolute idiot if she stayed there. What exactly were the expectation coming here? That he would have all the time for her? She picked herself up and went, now really wanted to slap herself. She was in Barcelona on a F1 race for god sake.

Once again she went and this time tried to sink in the atmosphere of the grandstands and focus less on what might be happening in the paddock and around Lando. When she opened up more the the world around, the world responded and threw a group of young Spanish fans in her way. They took her as her own - and there was no one to complain that she spend her time at the race with Alonso fans.

Podium. Podium when he knew that she was there watching. Was there more to wish for? His team surrounded him overjoyed, the fans were ecstatic and ever the journalists seemed to be on his side for this once. There was a post race interview, then Netflix and lots of autographs. Lando felt truly rewarded for all the hard work he put into his racing. The team insisted on Lando joining them at the club, it would have probably been impossible to avoid it, they were determined to celebrate. He barely found a moment to breathe - let alone check his phone, where a celebratory text from Y/N was sitting among 70 other texts.

Minutes turned into hours and usually patient Y/N was losing it. There was nothing else for her to do than join her newly found pack at the bar in the city, where they continued after the race. They were typically Spanish in their ways, so the energy was high and contagious. She shared her frustrations without revealing Lando's identity, because she just had to get it out somehow. Two shots was the maximum she allowed herself in order not to start drunk calling and throwing away her last piece of dignity she felt towards herself.

"I don't wanna know. I don't need to see him on instagram wrapped around someone else. Just tell me if he texts me back," she said and handed her phone to one of the girls, the one that seemed to get it the most.

It was intoxicating to watch his usually stressed teammates and crew finally relaxed and happy. He'd been at the team for a good chuck of years now, these people were family. Few times during the night a thought entered Lando's mind. He should have just brought Y/N here. It would have been fine. So there would be some headline tomorrow. Then his memories of his exes crying at the horrific comments his "so called fans" were capable of leaving nonstop. He read her text after three or something hours, not making anything out of his response time, deciding to wait for a proper quiet moment to record a voice message.

"I only smoke when I want to feel bad," she laugher while sharing a cigarette outside the bar filled with singing people.

"Chica, you have a voice message!" her designated phone guardian exclaimed. Received 28 minutes ago. Great.

She listened to the message for two times, having trouble deciding whether she felt happy or angry. Nothing personal, nothing specific, just a happy Lando talking in the same tone he uses for interviews, she watched him enough to see the difference, asking about her whereabouts, making it sound like he just assumed that she is back at the hotel. His James Dean smile felt bitter in her memory. Her own joy that she felt when listening to his voice was the thing making her mad. He just had such an upper hand.

She took a few minutes to reply. Why the hell not. "I'm in the centre of Barcelona with some people." was the only thing she wrote. Her dirty little secret fantasy turned out to be sad undermining dream. She was leaving tomorrow evening and felt as if Lando hadn't even asked her how she was doing in the two days she'd been here. Somehow, she felt further from him than when there were miles and oceans between them.

It's hard to tell the note from a text sometimes, but Lando has shared hundreds of texts with this girl. So he knew something was up.

"Can I come and see you?" he asked straightforward.

"If you want to...but there are like people here, so..?" she replied after another pause and sent her location.

The taxi drive dragged for minutes and Lando sighed demonstratively to let his annoyance out of the system, having little to no care of what the driver thought of him.

"I'm right outside the bar, in the alleyway," he finally sent once he arrived and got a photo of his POV. She took her time, letting him evaluate what had been happening even more. Was the magic gone? Did she stopped caring? Or worse, did she never start?

He was not exactly relieved when he spotted her coming his way. There was an uncharacteristically strange look on her face.

"Hey," she said with no clear emotion for Lando to read.

"Hey," he replied passively and carefully.

"Congrats again," she said quietly. "Sorry I dragged you out of the party," she said honestly. There was a sudden wave of guilt making her feel very small. She stopped unusually far away from Lando, not exactly where a person who has shared his bed that night would. They stood far away from crowds, but blended perfectly into the street life scenery. Just a guy and a girl.

"Is everything like, alright?"

"I don't know. It's just...guess I find it harder to stay behind and pretend I don't know you than I thought I would," she managed to slowly voice her biggest concern. There was a part of her that was proud for that.

"Ok. I'm sorry it's so unfortunate. I guess I act a little different when I'm afraid of being watched." She had to admit he was right, it he had stepped out of the alleyway, there would be a crowd immediately. that must have been really suffocating at times.

"No, you don't have to say you're sorry or anything. I get it. I'm a regular girl, just some student. No model or a daughter of a driver or whatever. I obviously don't fit into your life. It would be crazy of me to assume that anyway. And I got carried away with my little crush on you. It's my own expectations that let me down, not you or anything. I get it, I just need some time to process and get over it." Her voice was sweet and honest with no other undertones. He had not seen this emotion on her face before. He found it fascinating that the more he saw her, the more types of expressions he was allowed to observe.

In that moment, Lando was more than sure of where he wanted the conversation to go. There wasn't a thing that would make his second guess. This realization makes one nonchalantly braver than usual. "But I don't want you to get over it. The last you are to me is ordinary. Or some fucking shit like that." The concept of her thinking this was really fucking up his own head.

"Lando, I can see this thing we do is making me someone I don't want to be. An insecure sucker for a drop of your attention. It's honestly embarassing," she stated. "I like Lando, don't give a fuck that you happen to be Lando Norris."

He was shocked how she managed to hit him where it hurt without even realizing it.

"But that's the thing. I'm obsessed with you. Me, Lando. But Lando Norris does not leave when you enter the room. I know the price of that better than anyone and I just want to protect you for as long as I can. The thing I'd love to do the most is to introduce you to my friends and definitely not talk to them about how amazing time I have when I'm with you."

Y/N took a moment to take in what he was trying to say to her. She was took busy getting through her own thoughts that she almost did not listen to his. Lando took a step closer to her, knowing that if he fucks this up, they will hardly see each other again. There was no room for any cat and mouse games. Destiny set them up for the level hard. It's not like they will bump into each other in the paddock.

"I want to enjoy what we have in private for as long as we can. I want to get to know you and have the space to do so. I'm terrified of someone giving you any hate," he whispered. Y/N has probably never felt as stupid as she had then.

"I don't know why I'm so weird. And overreacting."

"You're not," he said firmly, kicking himself mentally for not taking more of an effort when he had her here. "I'm sorry for neglecting you. And for hiding you. It's definitely not because I find you not enough," he said, disgusted with the word enough leaving his mouth.

Once some barriers are broken, it's impossible to take a step back.

"We don't need to parade around, Lando. I get what you're saying and all," she said.

"Yes. Not until we both feel ready, if that's ok."

"Great, " she smile. There was silence for a moment. Lando's mind was suddenly clear as a day.

"Y/N. I want to see you again. And more often. Not as a fuck buddy or a special friend. How do you feel about that?"

"Like what...like dating or something?"

"No," he smiled, seeing how it made her all awkward and tight. "Not something. Proper full on dating, all in. Let it flow and see where we end up." It was like a weight she had no idea she carried lifter of her.

"Yes," she replied and bit her lip to hide her excitement.

He smiled back. "Ok, honey". With that he kissed his newly found girlfriend. New set of slightly different butterflies entered the chat.

"So I guess I'll have to change your contact name, huh?" he asked with his signature cheeky grin.

"To what?"

"How did you put it, sucker for my attention?"

She hit him playfully and he responded with another kiss.

epilogue p1

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @starmanv @formulaal

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milo-manheim-luver · 11 months

Text

Girls Weekend- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

summary: in which reader has her high school best friends come and visit her new place in Charleston and they finally find about about her secret lover.

warnings: angst? lots of fluff, and a bit of implied sexual content/comments. ENJOY! 😽

A/N: i’m def basing the two besties off of my besties hehehe 🤭 also, i suck at writing so please be nice 😭 ps this is my first drew starkey fic so feedback is defs welcomed 🫶🏻

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it was a late tuesday night in the beach town of charleston, south carolina when Y/N phone had started to buzz lightly. she was curled up on the couch, lamp on, reading one of her boyfriends many books he had acquired throughout the years. she found a stopping point in her (drew’s) book and placed the marker in it, before picking her phone up. she had a few texts from the ‘hometown girlies’ groupchat, immediately smiling, at the thought of her lifelong best friends.

ophelia: hey luvs, so martha and i were thinking maybe we could fly out to see you and your new place sometime soon?

ophelia: like maybe make it a girls weekend?!

martha: we miss you so much! we haven’t seen you in almost a year!

martha: just let us know when would work best for you! <3 xoxo

Y/N: omg! hi my babes!

Y/N: miss you girlies so fucking much it hurts 😢

Y/N: let me look at my schedule real quick! i’ll get back to you in about 20!

“hey, babe, my girlfriends from back home wanna come out and visit sometime soon, like have a girls weekend. are you still going to your mom’s the first week of may?” Y/N asked her boyfriend, drew, who sat close beside her, book in one hand, and his other gently rubbing his thumb across her shin, as she had her legs laying across his lap.

“uh, i believe so, unless someone cancels. why? am i not allowed to be there for girls weekend? oh wait! is this like where girls spill their darkest secrets?” drew rambled on as he looked up from his book, now intrigued by Y/N question.

“well, it’s not that i don’t want you here. it’s just they don’t know about us and i wanted to keep it that way. only the cast knows, and not even all of them know” Y/N let a sigh escape her plump lips. she wanted her best friends to know, yes, but at the same time she really liked the secrecy. not even her family knew about her and drew and that’s how she wanted to keep it, at least for now that is.

“i know i know. i will let you know if it gets canceled. but seriously what do girls do and talk about during a girls weekend?” drew asked with a confused expression plastered onto his face.

“that’s for us girls to know and you men to never find out. also thank you for always being so understanding and caring like all the time. i love you hunny” she cooed to her boyfriend who sat close to her on their shared couch.

“i love you too, angel” the tall, muscular man spoke as he leant over and planted a soft and gentle kiss to his girlfriend’s plump lips.

it had been three long weeks, of pure excitement and no patience. Y/N had just picked her two high school best friends, ophelia and martha, up from the airport and was headed back to her and her lovers’ place.

“i can’t believe you live in south carolina. like don’t you miss good old nebraska?” martha asked her best friend she hadn’t seen in almost a year.

“uh no, not really. i feel like i’m thriving here. i have a good job, a nice place, some friends. but don’t worry they won’t replace you two babes” Y/N giggled as she smiled.

“i mean, yeah you’re totally thriving here. wait! did you ever learn how to surf like you’ve always wanted to? or golf?” ophelia, who had been sitting in the passenger seat the whole ride back, spoke with pure curiosity.

“uh, yeah? kinda. one of my friends, chase, actually taught me how to surf. the guy knows how to do pretty much anything. i mean he grew up along the coast so he’s been doing it for awhile now. and as for golf, i definitely have had some lessons by another friend but he’s not the best teacher out there. like he ge-“ Y/N was cut off by her phone buzzing, notifying her that she had received a text.

without even thinking twice she then asked “hey ophelia, can you tell me who just texted me? i don’t wanna look while i’m driving because this traffic is horrible” she softly spoke.

“yeah, well it only has the name, woah who’s ‘joseph WITH A SWOONING EMOJI?!”

“DID YOU GET A LOVER FINALLY?!” martha screamed from the back seat of Y/N car.

“okay, for starters chill out. like bring down the volume i’m trying to drive here. and also, no that’s just my friend who i work with. the emoji is an inside joke. he’s actually the one who’s been trying to teach me how to golf. like i said he sucks at teaching” Y/N spat out about her secret lover.

“wait what do you do again? how do i not remember this?” martha asked, embarrassed she couldn’t remember what her best friend did for a living.

“dude she’s a makeup artist for some netflix show, right?” ophelia asked Y/N for confirmation, who hummed in response.

the three girls had just pulled into Y/N and drew’s apartment complex, which was near the beach per Y/N request as she had always loved the beach and longed to live near one at some point in her life. she just got lucky to, living with her soulmate near the beach. it’s everything she could’ve asked for and more.

ophelia and martha grabbed their carryons as Y/N tried to help the two women she’d called her best friends for over five years with their luggage. but her best friends of course declined the offer for help. once ophelia and martha gathered their luggage Y/N locked her car, and lead the way up the stairs to her and her lovers’ humble abode.

“the apartment is on the third floor, so my apologies for how tired you two will be when we finally make it to my floor. but hey, at least the view is great!” Y/N exclaimed, beaming with pure joy at the thought of spending the weekend with two women she’d been friends with the longest.

“are we almost there yet” martha huffed out as she trudged her way up the last set of staircases. she was tired already and just wanted to take a seat in a chair or on a couch. it didn’t matter which one at this point.

“yes, marti, it’s right here” the young makeup artist beamed as she unlocked the apartment door, pushing the door open, letting her friends go in first. they made a bit of noise, rolling their luggage on the wood floor as they entered the place, notifying a certain someone, that his lover was finally home.

“babe, you’re back! i tried texting you, anyways i’m about to head out to go shoot some hoops with J.D. an- uh hi?” drew spoke from your guys’ bedroom, as he entered the living room and kitchen area, only to met with three sets of eyes instead of one. as soon as he entered he finished pulling his shirt on, a light blush filling his cheeks as he had not expected to see two extra pair of eyes on him.

“joseph andrew! what the hell are you still doing here? i thought you were visiting your mom this weekend?” Y/N huffed out shakily, not really prepared to be interrogated by her two hometown girlfriends. she looked down at her feet as she felt her lovers’ and best friends’ eyes on her, wanting answers.

“first off, not a ‘hello, my love’ and yeah i texted you, told you my mom had to cancel because she had to work. something about wrapping up for the school year. i’m not really sure. plus, she wanted you to come as well” drew smirked as he walked past his girls’ best friends, lifting her chin up to look into his bright blue eyes. he could tell she was nervous. “why are you so nervous?” he spoke softly, as her friends looked at her.

“um… what’s going on here? WAIT! is THIS the guy who texted you earlier?” martha exclaimed in excitement.

“OH MY GOSH THIS IS THE GUY WHO TRIED TEACHING YOU HOW TO PLAY GOLF!” ophelia belted out with the realization who the guy had texted Y/N earlier was.

“u-uh y-yeah. guys this is m-my boyfriend? drew i’d like you to meet my best friends from back home, ophelia and martha. martha, ophelia, meet my lover, drew” Y/N stuttered out, feeling drew squeeze her hand, in a comforting way to let her know it’d be okay. he knew she didn’t want to tell them yet, but here she was, spilling her biggest secret to her girls. “and yeah, this is the guy who can’t teach me golf to save his life” she chuckled out lightheartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

“it’s not my fault you wear a short skirt every single time” drew mumbled out louder than he’d thought, as Y/N swatted his chest and her two friend chuckled lightly.

“whatever you say. now go play basketball with J.D. because i don’t wanna be blamed for you being late. i’ll never hear the end of it on set” Y/N smiled sweetly up at her lover, who’d bent down and pecked her lips softly, briskly walking out the door. “love you!” drew shouted from behind her” “love you too dumbass!” Y/N hollered back. and with that, drew was gone for the next few hours, leaving Y/N with ophelia and martha.

“i’m utterly speechless!” ophelia exclaimed loudly, not being able to control herself anymore. she’s waited for the day her best friend would find her significant other. and in all honesty, she was worried she never would. mainly because Y/N had a hard time opening up to men and trusting them with everything.

“you know we’re gonna get the dirt about everything out of you later tonight, right?” martha quizzed Y/N as she just giggled in return shaking her head in disbelief.

as the three girls got done eating and slightly catching up with each others lives, the front door opened, revealing none other than a shirtless, sweaty drew. the door opening had brought all three women’s attention to who had just entered. “drew, put a shirt on, better yet go take a shower. you smell. i can smell you from here babe. ew. what did you and J.D. do, run suicides?” Y/N scrunched her nose up as her boyfriend came closer to her, wafting his sweaty-smelling self to her.

“actually we didn’t do that. we just played a one-on-one game of basketball. and J.D. was losing per usual and came up with the dumbest rules that aren’t even real! i mean come on, i would know if those rules were real or not. mans a sore loser for sure” drew rambled on, ignoring his girlfriend’s statement to put a shirt on or take a shower request.

“okay, drew, so do you like know every sport or?” martha questioned her best friends boyfriend, eyebrows crunching up with the questioning look she’d given him.

“well, martha, if you’d like to know. i don’t know every sport. i try to act like i do but i typically just stick to mainly basketball and golf because that’s what i’m familiar with. however, i do think i’m a basketball pro” drew grinned cockily, as he rested his hands on Y/N shoulders from behind as he’d been standing behind her dining room chair.

“don’t even” she sighed, letting a giggle escape her mouth, as she spoke to her two friends. it was more of a warning to them, as drew could go on for hours about basketball and all the rules. “babe, go shower please. you smell like a sweaty pig” Y/N bellowed out again to her boyfriend once more.

“fine” drew puffed out, kissing her cheek and walking into their shared bedroom, shutting the door.

“okay i think we need to play for the girls card game and hope we get all the dirt out of you about mr dreamy and you!” ophelia let out, walking to her suitcase and digging the card game out.

“i can make the cocktails while you set up, if you don’t mind showing me where everything is!” martha told Y/N sweetly with a big smile that happened to be very contagious.

“okay fine, the alcohol is in the top right cabinet as well as the glasses. let me clean up the table and we can get started i guess” Y/N smiled nervously as she knew they wouldn’t stop until they knew each detail.

as soon as the three girls sat at the table, the game began. of course Y/N got picked first, picking up the card which was a truth.

“have you ever sexted someone? if so, who?” Y/N read out before continuing “what’s considered sexting?” she blushed lightly as her two best friend started to lightly freak out.

“really? if you have to ask then you totally have. actually it’s you we’re talking about you’ve never talked about doing sexual things through text” ophelia giggled as martha nodded her head in agreement.

“so NOT true. the answer is yes, and as for who, that smelly man is taking a shower. now it’s your turn ms ophelia” Y/N stated matter of factly, leaving her two friends with gaping mouths.

“shut up! no way! wait real quick how old is he again?” martha asked bewildered.

“well i’m 22 and he’s 7 years older than me so that makes him 29” Y/N stated in a smartass tone, sassily.

“WAIT! he’s almost THIRTY?! the guy doesn’t look a day over 24!” ophelia spat out to her girlfriend.

“tell me about it. i thought he was in his mid twenties and was flabbergasted when i found out hes almost thirty” Y/N chuckled out as she ushered ophelia to draw a card.

“give this card to the most likely to have had the most hookups. whelp, looks like i’m keeping this card. i’ll admit it!” ophelia sheepishly shrugged her shoulders. next it was martha’s turn, who had picked up a dare.

“dare. text your partner and tell them you’re pregnant. oh fuck. chad is not gonna like this. hell i don’t even like this” martha huffed out as she texted her boyfriend back home that she was pregnant. now it was a waiting game. “okay your turn ms innocent” martha gestured to Y/N who sat next to her.

“i’m telling you right now, if i get another stupid fucking truth i’m gonna lose it” Y/N grumbled as drew opened their bedroom door, walking out, freshly cleaned and with a fresh set of clothes. he had on his coors lite tshirt that hugged his biceps just right and a pair of blue jeans. it’s almost like the guy couldn’t go anywhere without a pair on. even if he was just chillin in the comfort of his own home.

“language m’lady!” he chirped to Y/N as she got done complaining about what kind of card she’d pick up next. “did you save me any of your homemade cooking?” drew asked her sweetly as he came up from behind Y/N chair again, softly massaging her shoulders, her leaning her head on his right arm in return.

“mmm of course i did my love. it’s in the microwave. hey before you go will you make me another cocktail? maybe a hurricane?” Y/N tilted her head back to look up at her extremely tall boyfriend, with a buzz cut still on show. she really did like that buzzcut and she hated to admit it, but it did things to her. she gently put her left hand on his right which was still sat on her shoulder, running her fingers across the cold metal that adorned them. “hey, you put your rings back on” she mumbled to herself as she played with them some more, waiting for an answer from drew about her cocktail.

“of course i’ll make you a hurricane. anything for you, quite literally” he smirked, bending down and planting a chaste kiss to her jaw, picking up her empty glass.

“Y/N girl pick up the card already” ophelia urged Y/N to pick up the next card. Y/N was praying it wouldn’t be another stupid truth, but of course the gods didn’t listen to her pleads.

“ugh! you’ve got to be kidding me! another truth. oh god. didn’t want to give this out” she huffed and puffed as she kept rereading her card. drew on the other hand wasn’t listening, minding his own business. he’d opened himself a beer, and began making Y/N her cocktail.

“read it!” martha started chanting to her now south carolina native best friend.

“are you a virgin? if not tell about your first time” Y/N mumbled out, getting drew’s attention, as he spat his beer out of his mouth all over the counter. he started to cough in the process, suppressing a laugh. he knew the whole story because he was the one who took it from her. and boy what a story that was.

“you gonna answer it? actually we both know the answer already” ophelia giggled because Y/N had always said she wouldn’t give it up til marriage.

“not true, also drew babe you good?” Y/N blurted out before she could even process her own words, leaving her two best friends utterly shocked.

“i’m peachy. just choked on my beer because i was definitely not expecting this to be that kind of game you girls play on a girls night weekend whatever it is. but yeah, not true” drew winked to his girlfriend’s two best friends.

“spill. answer the card. do it. right now” martha pressured Y/N to spill the details.

“ugh! okay fine. no i’m not a virgin anymore okay?” she blushed profusely, as drew walked over to the table with her freshly made cocktail in hand. he gently sat it down in front of her, going back to grab his dinner from the microwave as it went off.

“okay and? you gotta answer all the questions babes!” ophelia squealed out, taking a sip from her mimosa.

“like was it everything you dreamed of and more?” martha questioned seriously.

“ahh, don’t you even think about it!” drew warned his girlfriend from telling the somewhat embarrassing story of their first time as he sat down at the island near the table.

“hey mr party pooper it’s the rules of the game!” martha blurted out to drew from across the way. drew just laughed lightly, knowing she was right.

“this is awkward. i don’t like that drew’s staring at me! babe stop looking at me with those stupid fucking ocean blue eyes of yours!” Y/N screeched as she giggled, feeling tipsy already.

“babe, i’m just waiting for you to answer the question. that’s all” he chuckled with a smirk plastered on his face as he continued to eat his dinner.

“ugh so it was probably i don’t know 7 months ago. we had just wrapped up filming and we’re all partying. i kinda got a bit tipsy but don’t worry drew was too so don’t go hounding him on this. anyways we went back to his place he’d been sharing with austin, another costar and long story short we thought we were alone but turns out austin had come back early from partying and was actually trying to sleep in the next room over. also don’t worry drew kept asking me if i was sure and blah blah blah. very annoying by the way because i said i was sure and you kept on asking!” Y/N spoke out with hardly any breath left over, glancing at drew who cringed at the thought of his roommate hearing the both of them making love to one another.

“hey now, sorry for trying to make sure you wanted to” drew jokes back to Y/N who just smiled sweetly at him from across the way. “also, all i’m saying is if you weren’t so vocal he wouldn’t have known” drew smirked cockily at you, standing up, carrying his dirty dish to the sink.

“JOSEPH ANDREW STARKEY SHUT UP!” Y/N yelled playfully at him as she walked over to him, smacking his chest, making him let out the biggest laugh of the night.

“drew come draw one card!” martha urged her best friends boyfriend to play one round of their game.

“ugh, fine” he chuckled as he picked up a card, laughing when he read it in his head, before he began to read it out loud. “never have i ever had sex in public…”

“so? have you?” ophelia started to grill not only drew but her best friend, Y/N as well.

“i mean yeah? is that weird? have you guys not?” drew laughed nonchalantly, face plastered with a cocky smile, as if his answer wasn’t a big deal. martha and ophelia sat there, with their mouths wide open in shock.

“stop, wait really?! wait where?!” ophelia, the nosier friend of the two pried.

“the beach at like dusk and also at dawn oh and the communal bathrooms at the tennis court” drew blurted out, causing his girlfriend to scoff at him spilling the details. this just caused her two best friends to giggle.

“so, this, this is the guy that cracked the Y/F/N Y/L/N? some tall guy, who’s super cocky, and who’s by the way WAYYYY better looking than any other guy we went to school with?” ophelia spoke loudly, in shock that her best friend who had said for all these years she’d wait until marriage, cracked.

“yes, what can i say, he’s the sweetest, goofiest and between us three the nerdiest guy i think i’ve ever met in my life” Y/N chuckled happily as drew had his chest pressed against her back, thick arm wrapped around her body as he gazed down at his girl lovingly.

“hey, i’m not that nerdy!” drew attempted to defend himself but failed majorly. “babe you double majored and read very old books in your free time. you’re very nerdy” Y/N smiled up at him, gently scratching his scruff covered jaw.

“wait hold up hold up! he DOUBLE MAJORED?! i couldn’t even succeed with that and you know me. i’m like pretty smart. i’m intrigued. like i was not expecting this at all” martha spoke still flabbergasted by the whole situation.

“uh yeah i did double major. not that big of a deal. also hey babe before i go read my new book, tell me, did you ever finish east of eden?” drew looked down at Y/N quizzically.

“almost. i have like three chapters left. once i finish i promise i’ll talk to you about my thoughts on the book” Y/N smiled sweetly, pulling him down so she could give him a passionate kiss. “love you” Y/N mumbled against drew’s lips, as his hands cupped her waist, as she stood on her tippy toes. “i love you too. don’t stay up for too long. i need your cuddles to sleep” drew smiled shyly down to his girl, before he strolled his way to their bedroom.

“so tell me, was he big?” ophelia raised her eyebrows wanting to know all the deets on her besties new man.

“don’t you even fucking dare answer that baby” drew yelled, turning his head back, smirking, as he approached the bedroom door, opening it and entering. just in time for Y/N to whisper out a response.

“have you not seen how tall and muscular he is? hes a big boy, you do the math. hes definitely not small” Y/N winked at her two best friends who started to squeal out. drew, who had just sat down on the bed, back against the wall, just smirked to himself, shaking his head as he heard his girl gossip about him, not having a care in the world that she just spilled some personal information. he really enjoyed hearing her gossip and flaunt about him. he always had. and always will.

#drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x fem!reader

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subskz · 1 year

Text

pay attention - h.js

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub jisung, dom reader, jealousy, brat-taming (sorta), jisung is very childish, use of vibrators, edging, orgasm denial, slight exhibitionism, lots of begging, very light degradation/humiliation, reader’s sex is unspecified

word count: 5k

A loud, exaggerated huff met your ears for what must’ve been the thousandth time that day, and for the thousandth time that day, you ignored it.

Jisung was seated across the room at the kitchen table, his meal untouched and long forgotten in front of him. Instead, his eyes were locked on you, inwardly begging for you to just spare him a glance as you strolled around the kitchen, fully immersed in the phone call you were having with your coworker.

You had a major project due in just a few days, and you’d spent the better part of the past two weeks talking with your team members over the phone and meeting with them to work on it. Jisung hadn’t minded how busy you were at first. He was happy seeing you get along with everyone so well and working hard on something you were passionate about. At some point, however, that happiness had started to waver.

More specifically, the exact moment he came to realize just how often you seemed to be talking with a certain member.

Every time Jisung came across you chatting on the phone, it was with the same guy. He couldn’t help but begin to wonder irritably why a group assignment would require so much one-on-one interaction between the two of you, and he often found himself listening in on your calls with a bit more interest than necessary when you were nearby.

Things had only gotten worse from there, when he ended up making yet another unwelcome discovery to add to his sense of unease—that being, how often you tended to break out into laughter while talking with the other man. Jisung had grown used to being the sole object of your affection, with all your fond grins and playful eyerolls directed at him. As much as it wounded his ego to admit, it bothered him that there was someone else who could draw out your laughter the same way he could, the same way he prided himself on.

“He must be pretty funny,” Jisung had commented one day after you’d ended your call, trying his best to appear nonchalant.

You’d put your phone down with a faint smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Not funnier than me though, right?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think to stop them, and he nearly cringed at himself for sounding so blatantly insecure.

He was met with a disbelieving snort from you, as if the thought wasn’t even worth considering. “No way,” you’d hummed.

That, coupled with the affectionate poke you’d given his cheek, had instantly made him relax. Jisung was grateful, as well as a bit ashamed, that you hadn’t caught wind of the thinly-veiled concern in his question. It seemed you had more faith in his maturity than he probably deserved.

As the week continued and your deadline drew closer, that brief period of reassurance had faded away little by little. Every time you left Jisung to go meet with your team members for hours on end, or took another call in the middle of what precious little free time you had with him, he felt more and more neglected. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t ignore the undeniable pit of jealousy that had been steadily building up inside him. It was like a constant, nagging itch that he couldn’t quite reach himself—you were the only one who could scratch it for him.

He would give anything for you to talk to him for longer than just a few minutes at a time or hold him in your arms without using your other hand to type away at your laptop. And on a deeper level, he craved the familiar comfort of your touch and your addictive words of praise in your more intimate moments together. Every part of his mind and body were crying out for your attention. To focus on him and only him.

He was, after all, every bit as needy as you liked to tease him for.

It was for that reason that when your phone had rung in the middle of your lunch, interrupting the first meal you’d been able to share together that week, Jisung had done away with his last shreds of common sense and decided that he’d reached his limit.

“Your food’s getting cold,” he called out, still not taking his eyes off of you.

You paused to glance over at him, and he felt his spirits lift just a bit as you flashed him a quick, sweet smile. “Just a second, Hannie,” you replied. “I’m almost done.”

The warm feeling in Jisung’s chest fizzled out as soon as you returned to your call, turning away from him and continuing to discuss the seemingly endless details of your project. He lifted his chopsticks to prod at his food half-heartedly, letting out yet another annoyed huff for no one to hear but himself.

Just as he was about to give up on convincing you to join him, the sound of your laughter filled his ears again, making his skin crawl with that same jealousy that had grown far too familiar for his liking in recent weeks.

Jisung stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back faster than he’d intended and creating a harsh squeaking noise that instantly caught your attention.

“Seriously,” he complained, not bothering to watch his volume. “Just hang up already.”

Your eyes widened at his outburst, and you pointed to your phone urgently in an attempt to get him to lower his voice. He made no effort to, however, a hurt pout forming on his face instead. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me, right? Tell him you have to go, I can’t wait any more.”

His whine echoed throughout the kitchen, and you covered the speaker of your phone with your hand, trying to mask the sound of it. “Jisung,” you scolded under your breath. “I told you, I’m almost done. This is important.”

“More important than me?” he mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused as to why he was being so difficult over something as silly as your lunch. Before you could say anything else, your coworker spoke up again through the phone.

“You there?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied, giving Jisung one last concerned look before preparing to continue the conversation.

Jisung’s pout morphed into a full-blown scowl as you brushed him off yet again.

“You don’t like me anymore,” he announced loudly.

Your head darted in his direction to give him a warning glare, but he held your gaze stubbornly, puffing his cheeks out in a way that would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for his behavior. A part of Jisung knew exactly how unreasonable he was being, but it paled in comparison to the other, which had become far too consumed with pettiness to care.

“Hey, give me a minute,” you told the man on the other line, quickly muting your phone.

Jisung shrank slightly into his hoodie as you made your way over to him, the exasperation evident on your face. “Jisung,” you began. “What’s up with you?”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving a tiny, irritable shrug. “You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m not,” you retorted. “You know how busy I am this week, but it’ll all be over in a few days. Just be patient, babe.”

There was a pause, and Jisung looked conflicted, making you think for a moment that you may have gotten through to him. It was short-lived, however, as he furrowed his brows immediately after, unsatisfied with your reassurance.

“I don’t want to be patient anymore,” he grumbled. “You’re always with your team members, especially that one guy. And what’s so funny, anyway? Why are you always laughing with him?” Jisung’s voice rose in pitch, his habit of speaking too fast kicking in and turning his words into one, indecipherable ramble. “Seriously, you can’t even stop talking to him to eat with me.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling a faint tinge of guilt as you realized there was some truth to what he was saying. Though you’d certainly had your work cut out for you on this assignment, there was no need to let it take up your time to this degree, especially considering the fact that you had a whole group of people to help you out. On top of that, it was no secret how much Jisung thrived on your attention, and receiving so little of it for the past two weeks was bound to have taken a toll on him.

It was just like him, really, to feel like his place was being threatened over something as harmless as a work project.

Though you understood his feelings, you held your ground, too annoyed by the fact that he was being so ridiculously childish about it.

“Don’t be silly. We’re covering the same section, that’s why I have to talk to him so much.” You crossed your arms. “You know I’d rather be spending time with you than working.”

“Then pay attention to me.” Jisung whined, not missing a single beat. He reached out to tug at the sleeve of your shirt, and the needy gesture accompanied by his unfairly cute expression nearly made you falter.

You sucked in a deep breath, using all your willpower to resist his doe eyes. “As soon as I’m done,” you said sternly.

Jisung made a noise of protest as you brought your phone back to your ear, ready to unmute it. Without thinking, his hand flew up in an attempt to snatch the device from you, causing your thumb to miss its target and accidentally end the call.

Your face dropped as you realized what had happened. With an alarmed squeak, Jisung let go of your hand and backed away, immediately sensing that he’d gone too far.

You shut your eyes for a moment, gritting your teeth in an attempt to contain your frustration, and when you opened them again, you were met with Jisung’s guilty stare. He looked apologetic, but you didn’t miss the tiniest flash of gratification that crossed his features. The corner of his mouth twitched just slightly, almost as if to fight back a smile—almost as if he had secretly been hoping for this exact outcome.

He held his breath in anticipation as you eyed him with growing understanding. Jisung was so desperate to be noticed by you, to have your thoughts occupied with him for more than just a fleeting moment, that even your disapproving glare was enough at this point.

Something clicked inside you. Still, you studied his face a moment longer, just to ensure that you were reading the situation correctly.

“You want attention so bad?” you began slowly.

He nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip in a way that made your heartbeat pick up.

“I need it.” His emphasis on the word was fully intentional. If you hadn’t gotten the message before, you certainly would have now.

You glanced down at your phone to check the time, then locked it with a heavy sigh that masked the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Fine.”

You took hold of Jisung’s wrist, hardly giving him the chance to react before guiding him to the other room. He stumbled after you with little resistance, and when you came to a stop in front of the bed, he gave you a look that was all too eager.

“Undress,” you ordered.

Jisung hesitated, cheeks flushing at the sudden request.

“What’s the matter?” You tilted your head. “Since you’re so shameless today, go ahead and show yourself off for me.”

The scorn in your voice compared to your gentle reassurances from earlier made Jisung’s stomach flutter. His hands quickly reached down to grab the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head and tousling his hair in the process. He was wearing nothing else underneath, and you admired his lean frame with a quick onceover before motioning for him to remove the rest of his clothes as well.

Jisung’s fingers began fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, only for him to pause again. “Help me?” he asked with a pout.

You refused to let that pleading look of his get to you a second time. “Be a big boy and do it yourself.”

Your chiding earned an unhappy hum from him, but he complied nonetheless, pushing down his shorts and wriggling out of them along with his underwear.

“So worked up already,” you commented, shaking your head. “Does it get you off, acting like this? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

Jisung’s blush grew deeper, and he instinctively moved his hands to cover his half-hard length. He braced himself as you came closer—half-expecting you to touch him like he’d ached for so badly for days now—only to yelp in surprise as you gave his chest a light nudge that made him topple back onto the mattress.

“Stay just like that,” you commanded.

He sat up on his elbows, looking ready to object, but you didn’t bother to stick around and listen.

You headed towards the closet, already set on how you were going to deal with Jisung. He was going to get his wish, but you planned to grant it in a way that would leave him even more frustrated than before.

After some digging around, you were able to find what you were looking for—a hitachi wand and vibrating plug. Grabbing them along with a bottle of lube, you quickly made your way back to the bedroom where Jisung was shifting his weight anxiously from side to side. He parted his lips in surprise as he saw the toys in your hands, a nervous sort of arousal building in his chest.

“What are you gonna do with those?” it came meek, completely unlike his earlier, childish demands.

“What you wanted.” You popped open the cap of the lube bottle. “Hannie needs all eyes on him, right? So I’m gonna sit back and watch while you entertain me.”

The whimper that left Jisung only solidified your decision, and he lifted a hand to paw at you. “Th-that’s not—” he began, cutting himself off when you moved out of his reach. “I…please, want you to touch me instead.”

“Such a greedy boy,” you clicked your tongue. “You should be quiet and take what you can get.”

Jisung let out a small, miserable noise before laying back down in defeat. Despite his protest, his cock hardened fully against his stomach as he watched you squeeze the lube onto the plug, lathering the toy until it was thoroughly coated.

“Spread your legs for me,” you directed.

He did so instantly, parting his thighs and raising his back off the bed just slightly to make things easier for you. Carefully, you lined the plug up with his entrance and prodded at it. Jisung exhaled heavily, trying to relax his body as you began pushing it in bit by bit. A shiver ran down his spine from the familiar sensation of being filled up, and he couldn’t bite back the soft, satisfied moan that escaped him.

Once it was fully inside, you gave Jisung’s cheek an approving pat. He squirmed around in the sheets as he adjusted, hissing lightly when the toy brushed against his prostate. You motioned for him to sit up, watching closely as he complied. It was exactly the kind look he’d missed, a look that made him feel like he was made for your eyes only.

As soon as he was upright, you brought the hitachi wand to hover above his length, making his breath hitch. “Please,” he squeaked as you pressed down on his already dripping head, smearing the droplets of precum around. “Don’t tease me.”

“You think this is teasing?” you hummed. “You’re in for a rough time, then, baby.”

At that, you pushed the button on the wand and it buzzed to life, earning a sharp gasp from Jisung. His whole body jolted as the vibration rippled through him, and you once again found yourself marveling over how sensitive he was.

You kept the vibrator steady, holding it against his tip just long enough for him to grow restless before beginning to move it in small, deliberate circles.

“M-more,” Jisung whimpered almost immediately. “Want more.”

“You’re hopeless, Hannie,” you scolded.

The boy groaned, pushing his hips up to emphasize his plea. You rolled the toy around his head as slowly as possible, taking pleasure in the tiny, frustrated noises that slipped out of him.

Without warning, you slid the wand along the underside of his cock, brushing against a particularly sensitive spot and making Jisung hiccup weakly.

You held it there for several seconds, focusing on the delicate area before pushing the button on the vibrator once again to increase its strength. Jisung’s hips fully bucked this time, the burst of stimulation catching off guard.

“A-ah!” he cried out.

“Is it good?” you asked innocently.

Jisung’s hands gripped the bedsheets, and he swallowed hard before mustering up a reply. “Hah...y-yes,” he mewled. “Touch me, please.”

“I don’t think so,” you drawled. “This is all a brat like you gets.”

You were met with another pitiful whine, and it only grew louder as you moved the vibrator away from his sensitive spot and down to the base of his dick. The toy pushed Jisung’s length against his stomach, smearing some of his precum against his skin.

“Please,” he tried again. “Wanna f-feel you. Miss you.”

For good measure, he blinked his eyes open to hit you with that irresistible gaze, embodying innocence even in moments like these. Still, you managed to hold on to your resolve.

“You asked for attention, and now you’re getting it.” you said simply. “If you keep complaining it’ll only get worse for you.”

Before Jisung could respond, you used your free hand to grab the remote control for the plug. A choked noise escaped him as you pressed down on the power button it began to vibrate inside him. He arched his back sinfully, the combined sensation of both toys making his head spin.

“Ah! Wait!” Jisung gasped. “So good…m-more,”

“Hm...which is it? You want me to wait or not?”

He shook his head frantically, squeezing his eyes shut. “No! P-please,” he whimpered.

“Poor baby can’t even think straight,” you cooed. “Is this too much for you?”

“Please,” he begged, louder this time. “Don’t stop, I’m almost—”

Jisung’s words morphed into a broken moan, and when his arms began to tremble, you knew that his high was already creeping up on him. Listening carefully to the sound of his breathing, you slid the vibrator back to the head of his cock to toy with it some more.

A shiver ran down his spine as you passed over his most sensitive spot once again, causing his whole body to quiver with effort. The moment you noticed him tense up, you pulled the wand away, earning a cry of protest from Jisung.

His eyes fluttered open in alarm, trying to process the sudden drop in pleasure in his scrambled mind.

“N-no...why’d you stop?” he mewled, adorably disoriented. “Was about t-to—”

“What’s wrong, Hannie?” you faked a pout. “I’m just trying to spend time with you for as long as possible. I can’t do that if I let you cum so soon.”

Jisung hiccuped miserably in response, grinding down on the plug vibrating inside him in an attempt to draw out his orgasm. “This isn’t f-fair,” he stuttered out. “You’re being so mean.”

You didn’t bother to deny it, instead watching in delight as he squirmed around, the desperation growing more and more evident on his flushed face. He shut his eyes again, trying to focus on the feeling of the toy pressing against his walls. With a frustrated whine, Jisung released his grip on the sheets and brought a hand up to length. You raised an eyebrow as he wrapped his fingers around it and began to stroke almost mindlessly, determined to do whatever it took to make himself cum. His hand moved at a rapid pace, and just as you were about to scold him for acting without permission, another strained groan spilled out of him.

“N-not enough,” he slurred. “S’not enough…I need you. Please, please, touch me.”

You reached forward to cradle Jisung’s face in mock sympathy. “It’s just not the same, huh, baby?” you murmured. “Maybe if you'd been a good boy, I would’ve played with your needy little dick for you.”

His moment of disobedience ended as soon as it began. With a mewl of defeat, he released his cock from his hold and dropped his hand back onto the mattress. You gave his cheek a condescending pat, satisfied with his quick surrender, and leaned back once more.

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat as you brought the vibrator to tease his tip once again. You gave the toy another click, changing the setting from a constant vibration to short, rapid bursts. Jolts of pleasure shot through him with each one, and he shot his hips up eagerly in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Hah—fuck!—please,” he gasped. “F-feels so good,”

Jisung was writhing again in no time, simultaneously trying to push forward into the wand and press down on the plug inside him. “Lemme cum, please,” he begged. “C-can’t take it. I’ll seriously go crazy.”

“That’s no good, angel,” you frowned. “I’ve only stopped once. Are you really gonna disappoint me? I thought you wanted to put on a good show.”

Your voice was sickeningly sweet as you taunted him, making Jisung lower his head in shame. “N-no,” he objected feebly. “Wanna be g-good. But I—”

“At least try to hold out after causing me so much trouble,” you cut him off, moving your wrist to roll the vibrator around the head of his cock. Jisung’s body jerked at that, and a loud hiss escaped him as the plug brushed against his sweet spot, sending him dangerously close to the edge again.

His mouth fell open when you pulled the toy away a second time, leaving his length to twitch uncontrollably against his stomach. “N-not fair,” he whimpered. “Good boy, ‘m a good boy, p-please.”

You simply grinned as Jisung’s high slipped away from him again, waiting patiently for his pants to die down so you could go right back to teasing him.

Suddenly, the sound of a third object buzzing filled the room, and you realized with a start that your phone was ringing against your thigh. You slid your free hand into your pocket and retrieved the device, your smile only growing when you read the Caller ID.

Jisung blinked his foggy eyes open curiously, his interest piquing when he noticed the delighted look on your face.

It was your coworker—probably calling to see why you’d hung up out of the blue earlier. A wicked idea came to mind as the phone continued to vibrate in your palm, and you locked eyes with Jisung.

“If you’re such a good boy, let’s see if you can behave for me this time.”

His expression morphed into one of pure alarm as your intentions became clear to him, and before he could say anything, you accepted the call.

“Hello?” The man’s voice rang out as you hit the speaker button.

“Hey,” you answered casually.

Jisung stiffened as you moved your other hand to ghost the vibrator over his cock. He gave you a panicked look, silently begging for you to show him some mercy. You contemplated for a moment before lowering the setting to a softer vibration, solely so that the sound of it wouldn’t be too obvious.

“Sorry about earlier,” you told your coworker, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice as you pressed the wand against the underside of Jisung’s dick. “My connection got cut off.”

Jisung gritted his teeth in an attempt to suppress a moan, and you gently began dragging the toy up and down his length.

“No problem,” he assured you. “We were almost done, anyway. But I just wanted to double check how the last few slides are gonna be presented.”

“Sure, what’d you have in mind?”

Your words were immediately followed by a poorly muffled whimper from Jisung, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized how loud it’d come out. Despite the fear of being caught, however, he couldn’t ignore the way his arousal skyrocketed over the possibility of being heard like this.

“Well, since we’ve got two more major points to cover—”

He was interrupted by another strained gasp from Jisung, and this time, it was noisy enough for him to hear. “What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” you feigned obliviousness, grateful that he couldn’t see your eyes glinting with hunger as you took in the sight of Jisung. He was biting down on his lip like his life depended on it, the muscles in his abdomen flexing and unflexing in a desperate attempt to control his movements.

“P-please,” he whispered, struggling to manage his volume. “Can’t hold b-back, please.”

You tilted your head at him innocently before turning your attention back to your call. “So you want me to take one and you take the other?” you asked the man on the other line.

“Yeah, I think that works,” he agreed.

You listened absentmindedly as he continued with the details, sliding the vibrator back up to Jisung’s weak spot. His back arched suddenly, and when he clamped his jaws shut to hold back an especially loud cry, you wasted no time before pulling the toy away once more.

The choked sob that escaped Jisung didn’t disappoint, filling you with satisfaction as it echoed throughout the bedroom.

Your team member paused, growing silent on the other end. “Are you hearing that?”

“Hm?”

“Dunno...just heard a weird noise,” he said slowly.

It took all your willpower to keep from giggling as Jisung gazed at you hopelessly, chest heaving and lips trembling. “Oh, it might just be my boyfriend calling for me,” you dismissed. “He’s in the other room.”

Another pause. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t miss the way Jisung’s features lit up adorably at your mention of him, even in a less-than-ideal situation like this.

“Oh. I’m surprised I haven’t met him before.”

“Well, he’s a bit shy.”

Jisung’s stomach flipped as you began inching the vibrator closer to his cock, prepared to mess with him yet again. “Please,” he whined, voice growing higher in pitch. “Please, please, please,”

You felt goosebumps form on your skin, your own adrenaline spiking over how shamelessly he was begging when he knew how easily he could be heard. You hesitated for just a moment before pressing the wand against him, teasing the underside of his length once more.

“Anything else you wanted to cover?” Your question barely masked the way Jisung cried out your name, so intensely that it made your own heart skip a beat.

“Hmm...no, I think we’re good for now!” your coworker answered.

“Gotcha. Talk to you later, then.”

“Right, bye.”

At that, you ended the call. Jisung let out a long, filthy moan the very instant you did, and you finally allowed the snicker you’d been holding back to slip free.

“Hm...you did a pretty awful job at keeping quiet, baby boy.” you remarked. “Any longer and he definitely would’ve been onto us.”

You clicked the button on the vibrator to increase its strength once more, leaving Jisung unable to do anything but squirm pathetically. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to show him that you’re mine.”

Despite everything, his face flushed impossibly more, and you knew you’d hit the nail on its head. His thighs began to quiver weakly as his climax drew near, unable to contain the pleasure that shook his body any longer. Deciding that Jisung had suffered enough, you kept the vibrator pressed steadily against his cock, urging him to finally come undone.

“G-gonna!” he warned breathlessly, throwing his head back. He rocked his hips into the mattress, grinding down on the plug until he felt the hot tension in his core snap at last. “Cumming!”

He hardly got the words out in time before he was emptying onto his stomach, splattering the tan skin with pearly ropes of cum. Moan after moan spilled out of his parted lips as he was finally granted his release, sending waves of bliss all throughout his body.

Jisung continued squirming for several seconds, and you only pulled the vibrator away once the last few spurts of his seed had shot out of him and his calls of your name faded into quiet mewls.

You drank in the sight of him, admiring every inch of his spent form before reaching for the plug’s remote and powering it off. A long, content sigh escaped the boy as you did so, making you soften.

As soon as he managed to catch his breath, his hazy eyes refocused and met yours. You gave him a small smile, patting your thighs to beckon him over. “C’mere.”

He obeyed right away, crawling unsteadily into your lap and slumping his full weight against you. Careful not to disturb him, you reached down and began to pull the plug out little by little. He made a small noise of discomfort as you did so, and you murmured gently in his ear in an attempt to soothe him.

Once you’d fully removed the toy, you leaned over to place it on your nightstand, grabbing some tissues to begin cleaning his seed off his stomach. Jisung let out a sweet hum, nuzzling his face into your neck as you delicately dabbed away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “About...how I acted. I know you’ve been working really hard.”

You raised your other hand to cradle his head. “It’s alright, Hannie. You were feeling lonely, weren’t you?”

Jisung whined quietly in agreement, clutching on to your shirt as if you might slip away from him. “You’re not mad?”

“No, angel,” you answered honestly, planting a kiss to his damp hair. “I missed you, too, y’know.”

There was a pause, then you continued playfully. “But next time, don’t be such a baby about it.”

He lifted his head at that, furrowing his brows and curving his lips into an irresistible pout. “I’m your baby, though,” he huffed.

Your fond giggle filled Jisung’s ears, and he felt more ridiculous than ever as he noticed for the first time how your eyes sparkled when you laughed with him in a way they never did for anyone else.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!jisung #dom!reader #jisung smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader

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flowerandblood · 7 months

Text

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (11) (End)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, drinking blood, violence ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Their nuptials in a small church in London were modest and without many witnesses, only in the presence of Criston and her parents. Mr Whaterfield was not thrilled about this, he had hoped that with the kind of fortune he owned the arranged ceremony would be held with pomp so that he could later boast about it to his friends in Mantfield.

Aemond knew, however, that even such an amount of people around was frightening to his future wife.

Her mother thought she was pale from stress and fear, but they both knew that the reason was different. He felt a kind of pride when he looked at her, pride that she had fought so bravely against herself and her desire. She had a stronger will than him, he when he was going through the same thing as her murdered anyone who stood in his way.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a bright Victorian gown with buff sleeves, her hair pinned back in a tight bun with braids either side of her head, daisies tucked into her curls. She wasn't looking at him, just at some point in front of her, absent-minded and thoughtful.

He suffered looking at her, suffered knowing that this was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, that she was supposed to be a mother and a wife, she was supposed to be able to grow old and pass away in peace, and she was condemned to an eternity filled with an everlasting, monstrous, never-quenching desire.

She was condemned to it because of him.

Nevertheless, she spoke the words of her vow. She looked into his eyes then, and he saw pain, suffering, regret in her gaze. He understood each of these feelings and took them in, hoping in the back of his mind that perhaps in a few hundred years she would forgive him.

After a short wedding dinner they went upstairs together, but their wedding night had been a bloody one, after a day in which his, now Mrs Targaryen, had had to clench her teeth to avoid killing anyone, she had literally thrown herself at him as soon as the door closed behind them, pressing him to the ground, digging into his neck so brutally that he hissed in pain.

He squeezed his eyelids shut, stroking her hair, her neck, whispering that it was all right now, that she was so brave, that she had done so well. He could feel her tears on his skin, could feel her sobbing between raspy, loud gulps. When she finally released him and rose on her knees, looking up at him, her entire chin and her white gown were in blood.

It was a truly gruesome sight, but one that for some reason aroused his desire.

She felt it as she sat on top of him, felt his manhood pulsate beneath her hungrily, clamouring for weeks to get closer to her, yearning for her touch.

He drew in a loud breath and groaned throatily as he felt her hips begin to press against him, massaging him with back and forth movements, slow, deliberate, her mouth slightly open.

"I need this." She whispered helplessly, her cheeks wet with tears.

Their rapprochement was a mixture of their wetness and blood, biting each other and then drinking their blood from each other's mouths, licking and sucking their lips together, her thighs in his hands responding to each of his aggressive thrusts that stretched her fleshy, throbbing walls. They were both panting, aroused by this macabre act, her hands clenched in his hair drawing him close.

"− I want to drink only you − cum only in you −" He breathed out into her throat between the dance of their tongues and teeth, licking a trickle of his own blood from the corner of her mouth.

She moaned loudly at his words, felt her walls clench tighter against him and he made an almost animalistic, low sound, rising up on his knees, fucking her with all the strength he had in his hips with a loud click of their shared moisture.

"− husband should care about his wife − about her fulfillment − don't you agree, Mrs Targaryen? −" He hissed accelerating, her body arched backwards in front of him, the old wooden bed creaking loudly with each of his thrusts.

"− yes −" She mewled, even if she wanted to hate him, right now, at this moment, she couldn't do it, she longed for him and the pleasure he was giving her, her insides clenching tighter and tighter against his length.

"− fuck −" He growled, feeling her sudden, intense fulfilment, she cried so loudly that he had to cover her mouth not wanting it to be heard by her parents sleeping a few rooms away.

Although it was their wedding night, he wasn't sure if they had ever experienced anything similar to what he had just endured with his wife.

"− god − yes −" He exhaled as if relieved, letting go at last and coming inside her, his thrusts messy and sloppy from their shared juices running down her buttocks onto their sheets.

When he finally stopped moving he looked up at her, breathing deeply. She stared at him, her lips parted, her gaze impenetrable.

"Tell me what you're thinking about." He whispered, and she pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly.

Her trembling hand reached up uncertainly and touched his cheek, he hummed with delight, closing his healthy eye.

"That I can't." She said quietly and he opened his eyelid immediately, feeling a squeeze in his heart and an uncertainty filling him, his heart began to pound like mad in his chest.

"You can't what?" He asked lowly, her bottom lip trembling before she spoke the words.

"Hate you." She whispered and he felt a dryness in his throat, his eyebrows twisted in pain, he felt his eye turn burning and red. "I can't."

He kissed her greedily, tenderly, passionately, the taste of their shared blood melting over his tongue. He felt fulfilled at last, her blood quenching his thirst, he felt that now his mind was clear and sharp as crystal, that he had never been more human than now, with her.

"Don't be in a hurry. Give yourself time. I'll be waiting for you."

They both decided to stay in London. Criston left them after a few months when her condition had improved enough that she could even go out with him for walks among the crowds now. Admittedly, she had to drink his blood before going out, but this gave her a few hours of peace from thirst.

It seemed to him that the better she controlled herself the more often she smiled, joy and contentment returning to her face again. Although she was uncomfortable in the sun and they walked more at night, she tried not to fall into despair.

What comforted her most was the fact that she had not killed any man.

Apart from his blood, she only drank the blood of animals and those that were already dead.

She had come to terms with the thought that they would have no children, that they would spend eternity only with each other, but there was something reassuring in that thought.

It felt as if they both slowed down, enjoying the small things, focusing on the beauty of details and moments, enjoying every second spent with each other. They read together, played chess together, practised fencing.

When her condition was good enough for her to travel somewhere, they visited her parents, causing a huge fuss. They also paid a visit to Criston, who had to admit that she was coping very bravely with what had happened to her.

They went together at night to the chapel where she prayed every night, just as then she took a candle with her even though neither of them needed it anymore to see everything clearly. They sat down next to each other in one of the pews and began to pray together, he taking from his coat pocket the tiny Bible his mother had given him.

He felt his wife lay her head on his shoulder, thoughtful, after a while. He slipped a ribbon into the place where he had finished reading and closed the book, glancing at it out of the corner of his eye. His cold hand touched her skin and she hugged him tighter.

"I knew from the moment I saw you here that you would change my life." She whispered, and he murmured under his breath and kissed her hair, her pleasant scent filling his nostrils.

"I thought the same thing when I saw you, when I smelled you. I nearly killed you then, when you approached me with your candle, that's how great my desire was." He said quietly, playing with her curls, and she lifted her bright eyes to his and smiled. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, parting it slightly, looking at its soft, fleshy texture.

"Your kisses are as sweet as your blood."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn’t tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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lace-coffin · 10 days

Note

Hi im that person that asked for the stufed toy thing and oh my god i loved it so much i loved everything and onece your requests are open sorry im asking while they are shut i had this sudden idea for a request sorry😭😭 ive also kinda got 2 ideas soooo sorry😅

But like a reader that is obsessed with drawing and loved to draw cute and sweet drawings to give to asa to do with their hyper fixation or every time they are with him they start ranting to him about it or them i dont know but he would be so educated on their hyper fixation unless its bugs then he would already know everything haha

Or idea 2

The reader likes to lick things randomly for no particular reason they just like to do it or they love physical touch and cant get enough of it always cuddling with asa at night as close as they can and just imagine them cuddling and they just lick him then he just gets confused that would be so funny to imagine😭😭

Or the reader for the same type of thing as the plushie one but instead music to calm them down and they would have like a tiny crying fit for their headphones bc i have had alot of meltdowns over not having my headphones its crazy i love your writing so much hope u have a good day❤️

Asa Emory x Autistic!Gn!Reader with a new hyperfixation

Requests are open!

Hi I hope you like this! I totally crammed my last two fixations into this < 3

Call Asa old but he wasn’t exactly up to date on video games. He defiantly was now at least, not that he had much choice. You were always flipping between interests, intensely talking and interacting with one topic for weeks or months at a time and then switching to another that catches your interest. It’s been Sonic The Hedgehog for atleast 3 weeks now.

He didn’t exactly picture his desk to be filled with pictures of anthropomorphic hedgehogs but here he is, he kinda signed up for this when he stuffed you into the trunk, knowingly or not. As long as you’re happy then he’s happy, even if he thinks you’re spending a little too much time on that GameCube you begged him to bring to hotel..

A few weeks pass and it’s now the Saw franchise. Victims being “tested” in disgusting gory traps by a man that fancies himself to be god? This is more up to his speed..pun unintended.

A series of excited knocks sound from the door of your masters workroom. Stretching his taught shoulders and neck he takes inventory of his aching muscles, he supposes he can take a break to spend some time with his puppy. Slumping back in the chair and swinging it to face to door Asa calls you in. “Enter”

Keeping your eyes pinned to the floor until given further permission you enter the room, shuffling over to drop to your knees in front of your owner, waiting for the order. The currently unmasked man drinks in your appearance, oversized jumper falling to sit on your neatly pressed together thighs and the collar he places on you every morning slightly twisted, the tag not where it should be.

“Eyes up pet” he says firmly, snapping his fingers to emphasise the point. Jumping a little at the suddenness you snap your eyes up to meet a fond look on master’s face, you relax a little, letting out a sigh.

Shuffling to prop his chin up with his fist in interest, Asa continues.

“What can I do for you pet?”

Visibly perking up and practically vibrating on the wooden floor you push the paper into Asa’s face, defiantly too close, there’s no way he can actually see it like that. Realising this you settle to put it in his lap and stare back at him hopefully.

“I drew more pictures! I wanted you to see..” you reply a little shy, suddenly realising how loud and excitable you had been, insecurity creeping in. Asa recognises you shrinking in on yourself and tuts. “Can I see, cricket?” He adds softly, prompting you to show him what you’ve been working on, he never wants you to feel ashamed about you’re passions even if you’ve been taught in the past to ‘tone it down’

Asa wants all of you, he accepted that from the moment he hoisted you into the box, to the moments when he firmly settles the collar around your throat every morning.

Soft smile settling onto your face you hand over the paper, not ignoring the way your knuckles brush against your masters during the exchange.

You wait with baited breath as he looks the paper over, you know he would never say anything demeaning about your art but you can’t help feel a little anxiety when letting someone in on something special to you. Todays drawing is a rough sketch of your for a saw trap, it’s grisly and frankly disgusting, you don’t envy anyone that would end up strapped down and desperate on the other end of it. Obviously you have no need for a contraption like that, but it’s only an (admittedly) sick fantasy.

After flicking through the diagrams and reading the notes as best he can (it’s not your fault he can’t read you’re handwriting well 🙄) a strange look crosses his face..it’s almost like you can see the cogs working in his brain. this could either be fantastic or a disaster, Asa isn’t one to do things half assed, it’s always all or nothing.

“Can I use this?” The silence is suddenly broken, his sclera eyes raising to meet your own, not any less eerie than when hidden behind his mask.

A strange feeling begins to pool in your stomach, should you feel exited? Proud that he wants to use your plans? Or disgusted? Sick to your stomach that the plans you never envisioned actually coming to fruition will be used to torture some poor individual? Unsure how to feel or respond you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as if trying to muster something up.

“These are wonderful cricket, they may need a little tinkering to make them functional but regardless this design is…fascinating.” A sickly sweet smile sits on your masters lips as he hands the paper back to you, ruffling your hair and placing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

Stunned and with a pit in your stomach you nod dumbly, leaning into the affection and practically purring. The idea that you’ve just essentially sentenced someone to their painful and unethical demise is soul crushing…but also a little thrilling? Has your owner really rubbed off on you this much? It’s not like you don’t know what he does day in and day out but it’s never been this..personal.

Asa slaps his knees (like the old man he is) and rolls back over to the desk, pushing away his current projects and random hardware to make room for your (his) new trap.

“Can you bring me the paper please, doll?. I would like to get started as soon as possible.”

Shaking off the ever building dread you pull yourself up, a little unsteady due to the burning in your thighs from sitting in one position so long. Placing the paper on his desk you stare back at him, waiting for further instruction. you’re not sure when he ended up ingraining that response into your mind but at this point it’s not worth questioning, it’s not hard to see that the pair of you are living in your own little world outside of normal society by now.

“You’re welcome to either sit by me as I work and give input considering it’s you’re design or you may sit on your bed and wait for me to finish”

You glance over at the cushy pet bed across the room from Asa’s desk…a lay down does sound ideal right now, maybe a nap will help clear your head? Or swallow the guilt.

“I’m gonna lay down sir, maybe nap a little, promise I won’t snore and distract you” you tease, giggling and feeling a little better in yourself.

Asa huffs out a chuckle at your joke. “I’ll be sure you don’t little bug.” He says, smiling gently at you. You turn to leave before being stopped in your tracks.

“One more thing, pet”

Cool gloved hands slide around your neck making you shiver at the contact, the small misplaced silver tag is slid back into its original place, proudly stating your name and owner on the front like a brand.

“There we go, much better”

Blushing a little you thank your owner and wonder off to the dog bed, curling up and lazily watching him work from afar.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher hcs #slasher horror #horror fan #horror

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automaticpizzahologram · 1 year

Text

"Falling For Bill"

You've been a fan of Tokio Hotel for years, and you finally have the opportunity to meet them backstage at one of their concerts. As you wait in line to meet the band, your heart starts racing with excitement. You can't believe you're about to meet Bill Kaulitz, the lead singer of the band and your biggest crush.

When it's finally your turn, Bill greets you with a warm smile and you can hardly contain your excitement. You tell him how much you love their music and how you've been a fan for years. He responds with kind words and even thanks you for your support. You can hardly believe it.

As you continue to talk, you can't deny the intense chemistry between you and Bill. His every smile, every laugh, every touch, makes your heart beat faster. Before you know it, you're laughing and talking like old friends.

The concert ends and you go home feeling elated, your mind buzzing with thoughts of Bill. Over the next few weeks, you can't stop thinking about him. You start watching all of their interviews and music videos just to feel closer to him.

It's not until a month later that you receive a message from Bill himself. He found your social media and wanted to message you personally to thank you for being such a great fan. You can hardly believe it. From that point on, you and Bill became inseparable. You texted each other every day, talked for hours on the phone, and even started video chatting.

One day, Bill surprises you by showing up at your doorstep. It was a complete shock. You had no idea he was coming over. When you opened the door, you were speechless. Bill stood in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled.

"Bill! What...what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to fight back the butterflies in your stomach.

"I just couldn't wait any longer to see you," he said, holding out the flowers. "These are for you."

You took the flowers and thanked him, feeling like you were floating on air. Bill came inside and you two talked for hours, laughing and sharing stories.

As the night drew to a close, Bill stood up from the couch and walked over to where you were sitting. He took your hand in his and looked into your eyes.

"Y/N, I have something to tell you," he said, his voice low and serious.

"What is it?" you asked, heart racing.

"I think I'm falling for you," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Bill was falling for you - the same way you were falling for him. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him. It was the most magical kiss you had ever experienced.

From that night on, you and Bill were inseparable. You went to every one of his shows, and he would always dedicate a song to you from the stage. You became his muse, the inspiration behind his music.

Looking back on that day you first met, you never could have imagined that your crush on Bill Kaulitz would turn into something beyond your wildest dreams. But there you were, falling in love with the man who had captured your heart from the start.

#Bill Kaulitz x reader #Tokio Hotel

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bluebayousblog · 8 months

Text

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 10)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: isobel & drew and their families attend the company business cocktail

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART NINE

“You should’ve seen the look on her face when she saw it was me in storage room and not you.”

Drew was doing his best to act disinterested as his younger brother Chandler rambled on about Isobel. He didn’t even have to initiate the topic of conversation, as soon as he slipped into his truck Chandler was detailing every part of the interaction he had with her earlier in the day.

He wasn’t expecting to be driving the two of them to the cocktail tonight, but internally he didn’t mind his brother’s company if it entailed Drew listening silently while he talked about the girl racing through his mind. It felt like she was running through his veins, coating the tip of his tongue, and embedding herself into his brain. For the past two weeks his mind and body had been consumed by her, and after leaving that room he swore he could see a glimpse of her each time he closed his eyes to blink.

This wasn’t the first time Drew had liked a girl, he’d experienced the first fleeting moments of a crush when all of his thoughts consisted of them, but those were physical relationships. Situations where he wasn’t looking past a hookup and women he hadn’t cared about.

Hearing that Isobel was looking forward to seeing him at some point before their impromptu meeting in her bedroom warmed his heart in way he’d only felt with her. In the same way that he felt hearing her tell him that she missed would have. He feigned for that warmth from Isobel, it was something he wanted to chase to the ends of the earth—like a drug addict trying to chase that first high from the most potent drug.

“You have my girl under a spell-“

“Your girl?” Those were the first words Drew had spoken since he put his car in drive. Now they were exiting the vehicle in the parking lot of the C&S building.

Chandler’s grin was wide as they rounded the front of the truck to step onto the sidewalk that led to the entrance of the event. He knew he shouldn’t be reacting to to an eighteen year old’s words that held absolutely no weight, he was also aware that he should probably shut the conversation down because they were literally standing a few feet outside the family business—but here he was anticipating his brother’s next words so he could crush whatever fantasy he had playing in his head.

“Yes, Drew, just because you’ve somehow convinced her to want you doesn’t erase the fact that I’ve wanted her for two years.” Chandler looked smug as he spoke making Drew’s eyes roll in annoyance at how juvenile his logic was.

He rested his arm on the hood of his truck and swallowed down the irritation in his throat, “I didn’t convince Isobel to do anything.” The look on Chandler’s face was incredulous as if hearing the words out loud made it even more unbelievable.

He still hadn’t explicitly admitted to being involved with Isobel, Chandler just assumed and they now went on as if it was an understood thing. He didn’t owe any explanation to anyone, and especially not to him. What he and Isobel had came naturally, an unexpected thing that was almost ten years in the making and knocked his world sideways.

She was a beautiful woman in ways he hadn’t found beguiling in someone he was attracted to until he saw those qualities in Isobel. Her outer beauty was captivating any man could see that, but it was what she showed him on the inside no matter how stubborn she was that made his heart pound in admiration. Isobel was sweet to people who didn’t deserve her respect, resilient in moments where most would lose control, and willing with her heart when it came to him—a man who took years to notice her.

She got her heart broken the first time she braved herself to give it to a man that took her for granted, but on that random afternoon in December she was fearless in giving a piece of herself to Drew.

“So you’re telling me after all this time she just willingly gave you of all people a chance?”

Drew smiled at the thought of it, in simple terms that had been exactly what happened between them and he wouldn’t ever take that for granted. He couldn’t shake the smile as he began to walk down the sidewalk, giving him a shrug before mumbling, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, buddy.”

Chandler jogged behind him, the sound of his leather dress shoes hitting the pavement as he caught up with him within a few steps and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. One notable attribute about men in their family was their height, and somehow his younger brother had a few inches on him. It was nothing any one loosely observing would notice, but a fact two brothers realized when he eventually surpassed him last year.

“Well, at least tell me who made the first move.” He grabbed Drew’s arm so he would stop his trek into the front doors, “Just put me out of misery so I don’t have to wonder.”

His mind reeled at his question, immediately going back to that first intimate moment with her. When his eyes drunk her in as she lounged comfortably on the sofa with her face bare of any makeup in her most natural state, and that switch went off that made him feel like he had to have her. That made him want to touch and graze every inch of her with his hands, and kiss her until the feeling of her sweet lips was imprinted into his own.

His desires felt so dire in that moment when he gave into them and stole that kiss from her mouth. Looking back he realized everything felt purely physical in that moment, it was spontaneous as they both clung to the high of a first hookup, but as he reflected he just appreciated that she could trust him enough to let him in.

Drew just kept his gaze neutral as he stared back at his brother who looked desperate for an answer that wasn’t coming, but he did offer him a look that made instant relief wash over Chandler’s face. A simple raise of his eyebrows and cock of his head was enough to satiate his curiosity, “Of course! That’s all I needed to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Chandler?” Drew questioned. He was now the one stopping the other from entering the cocktail, and once again anticipating his next words.

A chuckle rumbled from Chandler’s mouth obviously finding this situation amusing more than devastating to his ego, “It means I didn’t see it at first, but after figuring this all out ever since you’ve gotten back the look on your face looks like someone who accidentally struck gold.”

Isobel’s inappropriate actions in the last hour forced her to ruin the impending outfit reveal she had in store for her mother. Lora was the only person in the household who cared enough to own a steamer, and unfortunately she had insisted to be the one to get the wrinkles out of the dress.

The dramatic gasp she let out when she saw the dress hanging on her wardrobe door wasn’t as entertaining as it would have been if she saw it on her body when she made her way down the stairwell. Isobel had always hated being the center of attention, but she couldn’t deny that she loved the moments her mother looked at her as if she was the center of her world.

Someone looking at you that way made a feeling of pressure wash over anyone to continue to be the person who deserved to be perceived that way. With a mother that type of love was unconditional, she knew Lora would gaze at her that way for the rest of her days—but with a man that wasn’t guaranteed. So when she looked at Drew whenever his blue eyes fell on her in admiration or simply just to look at her and she saw that familiar twinkle it unnerved her.

She’d been stupid enough to put someone on a pedestal like that once in her life, she knew that she was capable of feeling for someone that intensely. Her last relationship had even taught her someone could mimic that stare that made her feel whole and wanted, but she wasn’t scared of Drew deceiving her, it was that she could do something that didn’t live up to this idea of her he displayed so clearly in his eyes.

She finished doing her makeup and unrolling her hair until a mass of silky curls framed her face while her mother steamed her dress to perfection, and when she finally stepped into the event clad in the white dress that made Lora so happy with a pair of four-inch heels tapping the glossy floors each step, she felt amazing.

Her father, more formally known as Richard Cooper, approached them just as the nice attendant checked her coat, “My, my, my, my don’t my girls look beautiful tonight.”

He smoothly kissed their hands before gently grasping and lifting them up to twirl her and her mother around. Lora was wearing an elegant and dazzling, black gown that gracefully flowed down her body and showed off her bronzed shoulders. Richard always looked at Isobel with great esteem from when she was an impressionable little to girl to now as a well-rounded young adult. That look had always made her feel special and seen, it was different than how she felt with her mother. The difference wasn’t major, but it was something she took note of as she got older. She’d never met anyone else like her father and there would never be another man that could come close.

She loved the feeling of being around family, the only word to describe that feeling that would encapsulate it would be that it felt like home. It was something she could only hope to find in a lover. She knew it was out there somewhere, but she also knew that it was possible to find that feeling in the wrong places.

She stood aside when he turned to give his full attention to his wife, wrapping his big, burly arms around her as they took each other in. Isobel admired her parents for about a minute before her eyes began to wander around the crowded ballroom looking for one man in particular.

“Isobel you look stunning this evening.” The voice sounded like Drew’s but this one was deeper and well seasoned with age. She twisted around on her feet to face Charles Starkey, her father’s business partner and Drew’s father. A smile she could never seem to fight when it came to him broke onto her lips.

She said she’d never met another man that could compare to all that her father was, but Charles came pretty close, “Thank you, Chuck, that means a lot coming from the fashion police.”

When she was in high school Charles would be at the house on occasion working with her dad and whenever Isobel would go out with friends he would be sitting with her father downstairs chiming in as he taunted her about her choice of dress. Richard would never tell Isobel what she could and couldn’t wear, but always made sure to share his opinion. It became an ongoing joke between the three and even at the age of twenty-two they still acted as if they needed to give her outfits their stamp of approval.

“Hey you know I always have your best interest,” his words trailed as his attention seemed to veer off onto something behind her, when his eyes settled in one general direction he spoke again, “Remember when I used to tell you no boy would ever be good enough for you? Don’t you ever forget it.”

Charles was still looking past her until Richard called him over and he sauntered off without another word. For such a short interaction it left her feeling slightly perturbed, and when she turned to look behind her there was Drew. His face contorted in deep thought with his eyes trained on his father and Chandler standing beside him running his mouth.

His glare was cold, she felt it in the first second his gaze slid to meet her brown eyes then in a blink they warmed. The grey suit on his body did wonders for her imagination especially since he’d been clad in it when he was pressed against her. Isobel has seen Drew in a suit more times than she could remember, but now this was the best he’d ever looked—he looked like a man. His muscles bulged in his sleeves, and his slacks hugged his thighs in the most delicious way that made her want to run her hands up the expanse of them.

Just looking at him brought all there intimate moments to the forefront of her mind, making her dress feel tight on her skin.

Drew felt paralyzed as if his feet were glued to the polished floors. His father’s glare always had the ability to pin him in place from a young age, it was the sharp edge that was always there reminding Drew he was also in the know—that he could sense something was different. And even with his eyes now on the girl who made him feel invincible like he could prove he was good enough, he still fell static.

She watched him for awhile before strutting over in those heels she loved to wear, they made her legs look like they could go on forever. He quickly assessed her, noting the wrinkles he’d caused in the fabric of her dress were no longer corrupting the flow of the material—but the memory stained the dress with the little sounds she made, how she perfectly she fit against his body, and the things she always divulged whenever he touched her.

You just make me want to be bad.

Isobel’s words while they were in that compromising position went straight to his dick. He’d never wanted another woman as much as her, his body fed off her every movement and word, anticipating the moment he could get closer to her—physically and mentally.

Then the unintended implications of her statement settled as it replayed in his head. She was the good girl that they both knew he shouldn’t be touching, the guy who could break her heart again cause that’s what he did with other girls. Drew liked the forbidden aspect of the relationship, he also didn’t mind keeping it a secret between the two, but hearing her verbalize her want for him in that light unsettled him.

Because despite the secrecy, what he had with Isobel was pure and good—that’s what he wanted to remember the start of Isobel and Drew as.

“Chandler go get Isobel a drink.” Drew ordered when Isobel finally stopped in front of them with a smile, though a look of confusion consumed her features when he spoke.

Chandler’s enamored eyes moved away from Isobel’s dazzling appearance, “Dude, she’s not drinking-“

“Get her a water.” He cut his brother off already knowing the excuse he was about to give, squeezing his shoulder tightly, he’d done this as long as he could remember when he wanted Chandler to do something, and it worked for the most part.

He exhaled dramatically before rolling his eyes and walking off, grumbling profanities under his breathe. “Drew I’m not thirsty.” Isobel giggled, she’d always found their brotherly back and forth to be amusing.

“I know I’m just prepping you in case you decide to indulge.” He smiled as he got lost in her beauty, but he really just wanted a moment alone. Her nose scrunched at him poking fun at her low drinking tolerance before she let a smile form on her lips and rolled those beautiful dark eyes.

“Stop teasing me, Drew.” She chided with attitude though her cheeks were slightly pink, he loved when Isobel got shy even when they were growing up. Embarrassing and teasing her until that shy smile and blush bloomed on her face was his guilty pleasure and now it just captivated him more.

That reaction was intimate and vulnerable and he longed to see her in the ways she tried to hide from the world.

Drew made Isobel feel warm, she didn’t distinguish the feeling at first because it was overshadowed by racing hormones, but thinking back on all their moments together that consistent feeling of warmth always remained. In such little time she’d become in tune with his moods and body language—so much so that the slightest shift caught her attention—so when his eyes dimmed a fraction her body buzzed with concern.

“What were you and my dad talking about over there?” He sounded tense as if asking the question was a physical struggle.

And in his eyes, that he vividly expressed himself in despite how much he revealed when he talked, the vibrant blue muted to a duller shade. She felt strange about the brief conversation with Charles in the moment, but it hadn’t made her overthink until she saw the look on Drew’s face. “Nothing out of the usual just being the same old over protective, Chuck—Why?”

She wanted to reach out and just touch him, to place her hand on his arm to distract him from whatever was bothering him—but she couldn’t—she’d insisted on that. Drew and his father had a bumpy relationship when he got older, she’d always viewed their little spats as rudimentary, but in this moment it seemed to be so much more.

“It’s nothing, just wondering why he always has to look like an asshole.” Drew mumbled.

Usually she would scold him for calling his father out of name, but it felt justified—especially after this mood he’d just fallen into. It was little things like this she didn’t realize would change, the internal aspects of herself—it was scary to think about the change inside of her that was happening without her knowledge.

“Isobel, I know you don’t like sparkling, so I went and got you a glass out of the kitchen.” Chandler pushed a cup of water that was sloshing around in a clear glass in her direction, his sudden appearance making the both of them jump, “Also Lora wants you to come over and meet someone.”

Drew watched in silence as Isobel’s eyes visibly lit up in appreciation, and he was instantly jealous he wasn’t the one to do that for her, “You’re such a kiss ass, Chandler.” He insulted as she walked away after giving his little brother a hug that left him swooning.

Part of him envied the way Chandler got to parade his fondness for Isobel so openly and how it was viewed in such an innocent light.

That damn dress could very well be the death of him, but in truth anything she wore could send his eyes boggling, it was her beautiful body that made every single thing she wore sin. Even seeing her in an apron had him on edge just a night ago.

The group of people she approached consisted of Lora, Catherine, and another woman with a younger man who looked to be her son from the similarities he could observe from across the room.

“That’s definitely a set up.” Chandler said smugly while also staring over in her direction as she shook the unknown woman’s hand. Drew’s words caught in his throat the next second when the man who looked about the same age as them pulled Isobel into a hug. Isobel stiffly obliged as he watched one of her arms wrap hesitantly around his torso, but his hands were anything but modest taking the opportunity to place both hands on her waist. “What do you mean?” He asked without looking away but to his relief the hug was short, with Isobel being the first to pull away.

“Come on don’t be delusional, Brother.” Chandler sighed and clasped his hand on his shoulder as if he was consoling him.

But he needed to be delusional in this moment because if he entertained the idea of anyone thinking they could have Isobel in anyway he would march over there and ruin the entire evening. It had always been hard for Drew to accept the idea of her with another man, before it may have been him being protective but the feeling was so familiar he just may have been being unknowingly possessive over her.

Now he wanted every part of her to be his even if it was just merely her attention, he wanted her mom to know that she didn’t have to set her up because she already belonged to him—he just wanted to be a fucking consideration in their heads.

His nails pierced into his palms as his left hand tightened into fists while his other squeezed the base of the glass tumbler resting in it at the sight of the guy leading Isobel over to a vacant table. Mystery man’s movements were labored and slowed like something was impairing him from moving coherently.

They talked for a while and Drew watched, staring bullet holes into the side of the man’s head so intensely he was surprised he couldn’t feel his presence. Isobel obviously did as her eyes locked on his glare like a latch, she gave him an eyebrow raise and soft smile, but it did nothing to alleviate his nerves. All he could manage to do was stare back and purse his lips, harshly clenching his jaw in discontent.

Her courter must have noticed she was no longer paying attention and his wavering eyes tried to follow her line of sight but never landed on him—then Drew’s entire body stiffened, watching him round the table and block off her entire body from him. Anxiety swarmed in his gut at not being able to see her, he was now squeezing his cup so tightly it could break into a thousand tiny shards from the pressure until there was one second Drew couldn’t see her and the next he saw her step back as she forcibly yanked her arm away from his grip.

Within his next intake of a breathe he was storming over to her, “Drew, wait!”

He heard his brother voice, but it was useless Drew was going to get to her no matter what chaos ensued. He had tunnel envision, but before he could close in on the two a hand grabbed his shoulders and held him back. He turned to see his father standing beside him, and in a blur Richard rushing over in long strides to shove the man away from his daughter with just one arm movement.

Isobel immediately attached herself herself to her father as he wrapped a protective arm around her, Drew’s body jerked to go to her at the look of distress on her face but his father’s hold restricted him. He looked over to Charles again but this glance halted any further struggling. His face held an indifferent look, but in there somewhere in those blue eyes he’d passed down to him there was pride and understanding.

And for the first time in years, in his father’s embrace, under his heavy gaze, Drew exhaled.

Table of Contents:

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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reds-writings · 17 days

Note

hii!! can i request

10. lashing out even though they know they will regret it from the angst prompts for rust

here's some sunny and rust angst! felt like it was fitting for when she first starts helping rust!

The pointed silence bleeding from you was more unnerving than Rust thought it could be. He had lashed out, shamefully so he’d regretfully admit. Marty had pissed him off a great deal earlier today and the fact that he always had to be hovered over one way or another was igniting a frenzy of feeling particularly fucking agitated. He loathed feeling so helpless. Whether it was a fragile sense of masculinity that had been subconsciously engrained within him or he was just being a dick because he could would be a question for the ages.

The clinking sounds of dishes that the flow of sink water couldn’t drown out made him feel guiltier by the minute. It was the lack of routinely nonsensical humming during any simple task that made an impact. Your spark had been put out for the afternoon.

And he was the rotten asshole who did it.

Over what? All because you had to help him eat due to muscles of his own still on the mend from being stuck in a shitty hospital bed for weeks on end? There was certainly no need to harshly shove you away along with the plate of carefully crafted lunch you prepared to the floor in a heaping mess with spiteful curses. His resentful act had you frozen in place. Rust wasn’t the first patient to be so callous when you were just trying to do your job but it hurt all the same. He was a tough nut to crack so far in the two weeks you’ve been with him but today it was made clear your efforts might not ever be valued.

The minute wobble of your lower lip was nearly imperceptible but the glaze that took form over your eyes sure wasn’t. Hating to be seen so emotionally exposed, you wordlessly stood up to grab a few paper towels to hopelessly clean up Marty’s rug. There’d be a big stain but you were sure Rust was due for more of a verbal lashing than you would be once you relayed the day’s events.

God, this job didn’t pay nearly enough as it should with some of the crap you had to put up with.

Rust kept his uneasy gaze on the TV in front of him. Old football highlights sounded foreign to his ears as he had trouble fighting away wanting to grovel for his mistreatment towards you. The most undeserving of receiving anything in the shape of cruelty. Marty would have him by the fucking ear, that much was true, but that bothered him less than his current predicament of trying to formulate a formal apology. One that wasn’t tinged with predictable apathy or a mashup of bumbling words.

The sound of water suddenly shut off and the soft padding of your feet drew close again. His eyes darted towards your choice of socks for the day. Adorned with cartoonish succulents, a joke scrawled out near your calves: ‘What’s up succas?’ They were awful, but you had been excited to present them as soon as you stepped through the door this morning. It just made him feel more shitty.

“Would you like for me to leave early today? I can have someone else come in for your night doses and bandage dressing.” You’d never sounded so prim. It was jarring.

He fumbled for a strong answer, “...N-no.”

“Would you like me to sit away and give you space for the remainder of the day?”

Your posture was set in a stiff cast. Unease infiltrated the room, growing thicker by the second as his brain wracked through all its confusion and veining remorse. You were like a different person. Forced into the protocol of taking residence as an even-keeled, unfeeling nurse. You wouldn’t allow him the image of being thrown off-kilter by his meanness. You could only let people walk all over you for so long in these instances even if shoving away instinctual kindness and immediate forgiveness hurt.

“No.” He tried and failed at sounding more resolute. What was wrong with him?

You didn’t say anything, visibly deflating as you pressed a thumb to the space between your brows. It was clear he had you at a loss of what to do but he couldn’t hold you as an awkward hostage any longer.

“I’m sorry.” It felt as if he had to force it out of his windpipe. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Okay…”

“It was rude of me to-...behave as I did.” His eyes were everywhere but yours. If you weren’t so drained you’d giggle at the absurdity of Rust looking so timid. You straightened up to do your best at upholding your firm resolve.

“There’s no excuse for it. It won’t happen again.” He pushed out and you just nodded. A teeny smile teasing the edge of your lips. You were getting a kick out of this.

“You’re not bad to…” He hesitated and you waited.

That spark was coming back.

“...have around.” It might’ve been impossible for him to look more embarrassed than he did from his spot on the couch. You put a hand to your mouth to suppress your growing grin, turning to the side in mock thought over his apology. It wasn’t the most graceful but you figured it was something coming from him. Turning back to him you yielded,

“I will humbly accept this apology. But we have to watch whatever I wanna watch before I leave tonight. The girliest of picks to make me feel better.”

He mulled it over but knew there was no winning right away, “Sure.”

You wiggled in a mini burst of victory before plopping down on the couch, still conscious of his need for space, and smiled as you got comfortable.

“I’m thinking along the lines of Pretty in Pink. Oh! Maybe Roman Holiday-...” You rambled on about the movies you planned on torturing him with that he’d positively pretend to sleep through.

He was going to need help from whatever higher power was willing for him to navigate the colorful force that was you.

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #anon ask #writer blog #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #blurb #drabble #sunny universe #request

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seehowsupplethespineis · 9 months

Text

Fury in the Silence

(This was originally going to be for Megop Week but at some point I realized I’d totally forgotten the prompt I was going for, so here’s a plain-old Megop fic several weeks late from when I meant to post it. Whoops.)

(Warnings: Unjust imprisonment)

The buzz of the prison bars grew steadily more irritating. Aside from the constant hum of those energy beams, all was silent within the cell. From afar, occasional outraged shouts could be heard. A few of the voices sounded familiar to Megatronus, and his face twisted in a proud smirk. He resolved that those who spoke loudest would receive his commendation later. Straining his audial receptors, he sought out one particular voice. It was a quiet voice, so it was very likely to be drowned out. When he didn’t hear it, Megatronus didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Pacing in his cell, he tried to calculate his next move. The incessant buzz of the prison bars sabotaged this attempt, however, and he snarled his frustration to the lonely cell.

As leader of the rebellion, Megatronus had been separated from his forces and isolated in a private cell. He would have been flattered if he wasn’t so peeved. It wasn’t so much his arrest that troubled him; he’d expected this for some time, and his public protest had made it reality. It had been a peaceful protest, though- a demonstration to call attention to lower class injustices. That was what made Megatronus so mad. If he was going to be arrested, let it be justified. Let it be because he well and truly crossed a line. Let it be-

“Megatronus!”

A low yet urgent voice called out to him. If it had been anyone else, the disruption would have infuriated the gladiator. But it was the voice he’d been listening for. He’d come.

“Orion.”

The prison guard who’d let the archivist in voiced a warning, but Orion Pax utterly ignored him as he darted over to the prison bars. His wide, blue optics studied Megatronus, a frown creasing his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently, “Were you injured in any way?”

The concern cooled some of the fire in Megatronus’s spark. Stepping into the dim light cast by the prison bars and the light fixtures above, he nodded once.

“I am unhurt.”

His tone was guarded and impassive, though only because there was an outsider present. Orion knew this and turned to the guard.

“Is there any chance we can speak in private?”

An incredulous huff met his words, “Not going to happen.”

Orion’s brows drew together at the dismissive tone. They relaxed when Megatronus addressed him again.

“Orion, what are you doing here?” He couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved to see the archivist. He hadn’t known what became of him when the rebels had been rounded up, hence why he’d listened for his voice among the other prisoners. Still, he wished Orion had stayed away. This wasn’t a safe place for Megatronus’s supporters. If he disclosed too much, the guard would very likely throw him in a cell, too.

“I had to ensure you were safe,” Orion responded. The blue of his optics intensified in the glow of the prison bars, “I was unable to find you when-”

“As I have already told you, I am fine.”

At Megatronus’s interruption, Orion clammed up. If he sensed he’d been about to reveal too much, he didn’t appear concerned, only continuing to stare at Megatronus with a resolute expression. It was the stubborn face Megatronus had come to adore- the one that told the world this little archivist was unafraid to speak his mind. Right now, though, the gladiator wished Orion would stand down for once.

Orion Pax…Megatronus resisted a sigh, What am I to do with you?

He realized he’d drawn closer to the prison bars as they spoke. If he moved half a step further, he’d be burnt. On the other side, Orion had pressed as close to the bars as he could.

So little distance between them, yet out of reach all the same.

Orion’s gaze flickered over Megatronus, who remained impassive despite the rapid pounding in his spark. At last, Orion tore his gaze away to face the prison guard.

“How long until he and the others are released?”

The guard shrugged, “How should I know?”

Megatronus resisted another snarl. Thankfully, Orion was much calmer.

“Who can I ask for this information?”

“My superiors.”

“Where can I find them?”

“You can’t,” the guard answered firmly, “They don’t like to be disturbed.”

From his angle, Megatronus couldn’t see Orion’s face, though he knew it had set in a dangerously stubborn line, “They will have to make an exception.”

“Orion-” Megatronus began warily.

“Megatronus,” Orion responded in a tone clearly meant to convey “Let me handle this.”

But how could he? As dedicated as Orion was to Megatronus’s cause, he’d never been in the thick of it before. He was still the sheltered prodigy of Alpha Trion. He had no idea of the trouble he was inviting.

“There is nothing you can do for me,” Megatronus chose his words carefully, “You will do no good by accompanying me into trouble.”

Orion didn’t respond.

“Listen to your friend,” the guard jumped in, “You don’t want to be associated with his kind.”

The words were stated flippantly, without an ounce of regret or shame. Megatronus’s optics blazed. A familiar rage surged in his spark and spread throughout his entire frame. It was all he could do not to let it spill over. He had no idea what he’d do if he did, but for Orion’s sake, he kept it in check. Instead, he clenched his servos firmly behind his back, where they trembled violently.

Orion still didn’t turn to face him. There was tension in his shoulders, though his expression was now unreadable to Megatronus. Still caught up in his own ire, Megatronus was too late to prevent Orion from speaking.

“I already am,” the archivist stated calmly, “I was there at the protest. I am Megatronus’s most loyal supporter. You should lock me up as well.”

The guard was taken aback by Orion’s frankness, though not nearly as much as Megatronus was. His spark squeezed and suddenly burst back to life as he drew as close to the bars as he could, feeling the lasers singe his chest and face.

“Orion!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Megatronus,” Orion replied smoothly.

Once the guard had recovered himself, he gestured toward the door, vague confusion still painted on his face.

“Follow me...”

Orion nodded once and accompanied the guard out the door, leaving Megatronus in agony behind them. He wanted to shout after Orion but knew that, yet again, his words were useless. Once the door was shut, Megatronus couldn’t hold back anymore. He slammed a fist into the wall of his cell. It didn’t leave a mark. The walls were thick.

A roar of outrage surged from his voice box as he struck the wall again and again. He felt his digits crack and pain lance through his servos but he didn’t care. He just needed to leave a dent. Just one dent to prove that even if his voice was powerless, his fists weren’t.

When he at last recoiled, taking two shaky steps back, there was a dent. It was small - too small - but Megatronus couldn’t muster the energy to continue. He was exhausted, though his fatigue felt more emotional than physical. He collapsed onto the bench at the far end of the cell and held his face in his servos, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

The prison bars continued to hum.

Eventually, the door opened again. Silence suddenly permeated the cell. The hum had stopped.

“No room in the other cells. Play nice, you two,” The same guard of before spoke, a note of trepidation in his voice. The hum resumed not long after. At last, Megatronus summoned the will to look up.

Orion stood before him, now sealed behind the bars with him. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked over to sit beside Megatronus, who watched him with a detached, indecipherable expression. Orion looked unbothered, however, and regarded his companion with calm resignation and resolve. Unable to stand it, Megatronus let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Orion…”

“Megatronus.”

Another bout of silence ensued during which Megatronus studied Orion, who remained unflinching- as always. Before Megatronus could even begin to think of what to say, or how to say it, Orion broke the quiet tension.

“Do not be angry with me, Megatronus,” he spoke calmly, though his voice was soft, “I could think of no other solution.”

Now Megatronus knew exactly what to say, “What solution? How do you hope to solve anything while trapped in a cell with me?”

“I am an archivist in the Hall of Records and an apprentice to Alpha Trion. Perhaps my imprisonment will draw attention to the unjust capture of your followers and yourself.”

“Perhaps?” Megatronus almost laughed, but in the end, there was nothing funny about any of this. He drew himself up and turned piercing optics on Orion. Even sitting down, he leered over the archivist

“Who do you think you are, Orion Pax?” he hissed, prison bars glinting off pointed teeth, “You’re nothing- an insignificant little archivist with nothing but Alpha Trion’s favor to your name. You have accomplished nothing. Your sacrifice means nothing. No matter what you do, you will always be nothing!”

On the last “nothing,” something within Megatronus caved. He turned away, gaze burning like the laser beams imprisoning him. He shut his optics.

They opened almost immediately when a gentle servo rested itself on his tightened fist. The touch became more solid as small digits fastened themselves around his hand, effortlessly prying his clawed digits open. The servo then rested itself in his. Reflexively, Megatronus closed his digits carefully around it.

He still didn’t turn back, but Orion spoke all the same.

“I do what I can. That is not nothing,” He gave Megatronus’s servo a squeeze, “You give all that you are. That is not nothing.”

A weighted pause followed his words. Unable to resist, Megatronus turned to him again. A smile graced the archivist’s gentle face. Megatronus was captivated by it. Under the gladiator’s spellbound gaze, Orion drew strength and sat up straighter.

“You have a voice, Megatronus, and it amplifies the voices of those around you. You inspire others to speak up for what is right. I could not have made the decision I did today without your example.”

A small sigh escaped Orion as he glanced down at their conjoined servos, “Maybe it was a foolish choice. Maybe nothing will come of it…But if I did not try, I would be unworthy to stand at your side.”

He didn’t look up when he finished speaking, but kept his gaze trained on their servos. If anyone else had said these words, Megatronus would have assumed they were at best comforting him, at worst attempting to gain favor. But this was Orion, and Orion was the sincerest mech Megatronus had ever known. He was also the naivest.

“Are you willing to remain by my side,” he said at last, “Even if I fall?”

Orion immediately met his gaze, to see two, tormented optics imploring him for a response. The archivist tightened his hold on Megatronus’s servo.

“Until the end,” he vowed, “I am yours.”

Megatronus shut his optics as that grave promise washed over him. When he opened them again, new resolve glinted in their depths. He saw that same resolve reflected in Orion’s optics. The gladiator drew strength from that mirrored gaze.

With Orion Pax by his side, he would tear this world down and stamp on its remains. Together, they would build a new and better Cybertron. No one would dare treat them like nothing ever again.

However long it took - whatever sacrifices had to be made - Megatronus looked forward to it all with a cruel smile.

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #TFP #Orion Pax #Megatronus #Megop #Writing Entity #I'm not totally satisfied with how this turned out but I'm tired of staring at it.

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herotome · 8 months

Text

Finally-official-devlog #112

Also known as FOD112 hi-ho, Wudge here.

Gosh there's just. So much. I'm actually drafting this devlog a few days early so that I'm not suddenly overwhelmed on devlog Tuesday again. But without further ado-

This is the big cheese right here -- each character has their own layer, each character's clothes and expressions have their own layers, and there's a separate layer for the soft orange lighting on top of it all. 😭

On that note, here's most of the individual image files that create the CG with their powers (and my code) combined:

And since this is a cropped version of a BIGGER CG (featuring ALL the love interests sitting together), I had to tinker with the position code a great deal to properly feature these three goons Of course it was worth it of course twas merely at the cost of all my energy and sanity at the prospect of eventually possibly also adding in blinks and expression changes--

Mad props as usual to the sweetwonderfulamazing Remnantation who first completed this CG -checks watch- sometime last year! With some additional edits by me since then~

And, did you happen to notice something new in the lower right?

Tadah... a brand new click-to-continue icon animation! I made (mostly) all by myself! The lil sparkle burst is free from production crate, but I drew the star and added the rotation code... ... Honestly, the hardest and most time-consuming part of this was finalizing the design. Originally I was gonna make it rotate 45 degrees, flip, rotate 45 more degrees, flip, etc-- and messed with that concept for several hours before scrapping it for a simpler, more graceful idea. :| Part of the process, I gots to tell myself, part of the process...

Next up is Jade's powers, as you may have seen in the preview last week. Much like the CTC animation, I did a lot of research on other ideas - various glowing VFX like vertical veins across the cheeks and smoky rising from the eyes, as well as a bigger low opacity character zoom effect - before settling on something simple. Jade's power usage here is... pretty mild in context, and I figure I can always store the more dramatic animations for later in the story.

Here's a still of the effect btw:

Her eyes look like headlights lmaooo. Honk honk!

Do I have more to update with? Believe it or not, yes.

I made some icons, which took a fair amount of trial and error: on the left you'll see an earlier draft, on the right are my more final redesigns from the same day(...night. midnight. I worked on these until midnight).

I had to look up some guidelines because most of my previous icons did NOT look good or legible when sized down to 50x50 pixels. What I learned was, tadah, I had to draw with an unprecedented line width of 200 pixels! (For non-artists: I typically draw with a pen width of 12 pixels at most).

I also studied the icon styles of Persona 5, which saved me a lot of time - they had a cool stylistic choice of diagonally tilted color blocks and thick black outlines.

Here's yet another gif of icons in action...

Did you see them? Did you?? For a split second, in the upper right.... Still gotta adjust some of the text overlap, don't look at that.

Oh and the "How to play" page is brand new. I coded it from scratch... That also took all night...

... Oh. Oh. And remember your MC's phone?

This old thing? Yeah. Visual upgrade:

Also rendered and colored in by Rem <3 Where would I be without them...!

The text, though, can be updated in code!!!! I spliced the phone into layers, with the screen on top and code-generated text just below it, so I can update the caller ID at any point in-game without making any new images.

Took a little while to get it to work... honestly it doesn't look 100% centered... but it's fine. This is fine...

And then... more code. After much tears, blood and strife, I got a musical crossfade to work. It shouldn't have been challenging but it was a nightmare -- when calling the crossfade the second track would either not play at all or its volume wouldn't change and I was starting to develop a preference for eating gravel. But I persisted, found a much simpler code that actually works. After the tearsbloodstrife.

And...... lastly... I simplified this big block of code:

vbox: pos (269, 76) add "sprites/MC/mc[mc_number].png" hbox: if mc_number ==1: text "DEFAULT" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==2: text "LAVENDER" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==3: text "PETUNIA" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==4: text "SUNFLOWER" style "MC_label_text" else: text "TBD" style "MC_label_text"

...(not properly indented bc tumblr is mean 2 me)...

down to these lines, to make my future life easier:

default PrintMC = ["Default", "Lavender", "Petunia", "Sunflower", ""]

text PrintMC[mc_number] style "MC_label_text"

Two!!! lines!!!!!

🎊

Instead of typing out additional if/else lines, I only need to add new names to the PrintMC list. Won't really affect the player at all, but it's a HUGE quality of life update for me!

...Anyway that's it, thank you for checking in. <3

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

PS screw it I'm gonna queue post this early.

PPS have you listened to our composer's new single yet? No?!?!?!

youtube

Every click, every listen helps, and every song of his is a BOP that deserves recognition!

ok that's all for real now xoxoxo,

wudge (again)

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shade-pup-cub · 2 months

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Febuwhump 2024, Day 14: Mask(FD) & Link - Blood-Stained Tiles

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Mask seems to be the only one that can see what is going on with his big brother and he refuses to stand to the side when he could try to change it. Unlike his own Zelda, this era's doesn't show the same care. Their hero is only a tool.

CW: blood, injury, mild language

Link’s limp wasn’t hard to miss if you looked. His slight hitch in breath when he gave a slight laugh, drew in breath or spoke too much could be seen, if someone would look for it. His posture was guarded, arms stiff and hardly moved away from his sides. His smile was fake, pained and his eyes wanted to shut from the lack of sleep. All of this could be seen if someone just looked.

Mask watched from afar after the battle was over and had slipped the Fierce Deity mask back onto his belt. He saw Link get hit a few too many times and knew he would be kicking for not doing better.

A meeting had been called for in the castle to discuss the next move against Cia and Ganondorf the second the battle ended and Link was off the field. Mask cursed aloud when he lost sight of Link, crowds of people pushing and shoving. Being hip height had its disadvantages, but Mask was not above hitting kneecaps to get through.

It was the rare occasion that the eleven year old hero wished he had his sixteen year old body back. He could easily get through if he was taller, but he wasn’t. He scaled the nearest wall somehow undetected. He balanced his way across beams, careful not to fall into the swarm of bodies below. Living as a Kokiri was like living in one big playground, making this easy.

It still took much longer than he wanted it to to get across the castle, run down the halls to where Link’s personal chambers were. Mask jiggled the locked handle to the door. Link never locked it…

“Link! Open this fucking door!”

There was no answer outside of the shuffling of feet, something being tossed around and something breaking.

“Don’t make me blow this door off its hinges!”

When Link still did nothing outside of continuing on, Mask grew more worried. Link knew that Mask wouldn’t give idle threats, especially ones that included blowing things up.

“Cap, you’re worrying me… Please open the door.”

A few moments later, the door creaked open. “Worried? Now that’s a word I haven’t heard come from you before.”

Mask looked up at him, eyeing him curiously and cautiously. Something wasn’t right. Link had less dust and dirt on his tunic, meaning he had taken it off. He wouldn’t do that for any other meeting, especially with how urgent the Queen made it sound.

“Did you take a potion?” Mask went right to the point.

“No, I didn’t need one.”

“Did you wrap your wounds?”

Link furrowed his brow, “I didn’t have any.”

“Bullshit, I saw you take some hits today. There is no way you went unharmed.” Mask went to push on the Captain’s ribs, but his wrist was caught by Link. “If you don’t have any, why stop me from checking?”

To Mask’s surprise, Link’s expression cracked for a split second before he straightened up. “Because I do not have time right now. There is a meeting being held to strategize our next move. Even if I were injured, our supplies took a great hit today. We are short of most things. Small cuts are not worth my time worrying.” He let go of the younger’s wrist. “Stay here if you want, but I have somewhere to be.”

Mask flinched slightly back at his big brother’s became uncharacteristically angry with him.

Link deflated. “I’m sorry. I have no right to take my frustration out on you.” He took off his scarf, wrapping it around Mask snuggly. “Get some rest.”

Watching Link walk away hurt, but Mask had a job to do. He needed to figure out a way to get the good Captain to rest some. It had been three days since he slept anything more than two hours, a week since he slept five hours at one time.

He sighed with a groan as he walked into the somewhat large room. He went and sat on the bed, kicking his feet while his brain raced. He couldn’t think of a way to help his big brother and even if he did, no one would take him seriously due to his age. Well… he was just going to have to make them listen.

Looking around the room again, something caught his eye. Something white and red. ‘That bastard.’ He knew what it was before he reached it. It was old bandages that someone had tried to hide. That meant that Link had been hurt some time before and hid it from everyone.

Mask pushed open the bathroom door, wanting to take all the bandages out of there and hide them so Link would be forced to seek out proper help. What he wasn’t prepared to see was blood smeared across the marbled tiled floor. Several towels had been used hopelessly to clean up the mess and there were still small pools of blood that hadn’t been touched.

Mask’s breathing picked up as he took a few steps back. Horror gripped him like an icy hand around his middle. That was too much blood. How much was Link hiding? How much worse was he than Mask had originally assumed?

His anger roared back like a grease poured on an open flame. He folded Link’s scarf in a hurry, tossing it on the bed. He was on a warpath to where this so-called meeting was being held. He ran through people, not caring who it was. Many times he collided with the wrong people, all agitated warriors or nobles. A few pushed him away hard enough that he landed on the ground and nearly trampled. The others only spoke harshly towards him.

None of this stopped him from reaching the guarded doors that held the highest ranking officials in this Hyrule. He thought about blowing the door off the hinges, but that would cause too much destruction and bring too much attention from outside people. Direct approach it was…

Mask kicked and screamed as the guards tried to pick him up and throw him out of the castle for intruding. ‘This shit again, really?’ He managed to get a few good kicks to the door, calling for Link. With no one responding from behind the doors, Mask bit one of the guards and pulled the Fierce Deity mask from his belt threatening to put it on, backing up slowly, then literally kicked the door open.

“What is the meaning of this interruption?!” one of the nobles asked as everyone jumped to their feet.

Mask eyed Link as he tried to stand up fully without wincing. Link tried to keep eye contact, but sat down first with a hand holding his ribs.

Two more men went to snatch Mask, but he raced over to the way too oversized round table and climbed onto it. The Queen waved her hand for them to stop.

“Mask, what brings you here?” Zelda asked, calmly.

“Him!” Mask pointed at Link as he tried to catch his breath.

Link huffed, “Mask, go back to the room and get some rest, please. There is no concern here for you to be worrying over.”

“You don’t get to speak, Cap! Not after what I saw!”

Losing patience, Zelda also sat back down, prompting the others to do the same. “If something was wrong with our Captain, he would say something.”

“Are you blind? Are all of you blind to what is in front of you? He is injured, still injured from the battle before today, hasn’t slept in gods know how long, eating is a rare thing and he is refusing any medical treatment because he thinks it would be wasted on him when he should be the first person to receive it!”

“We are at war, child. There has to be sacrifices even if it comes to oneself.” A random nobleman said.

Swiftly turning, Mask gritted his teeth as he spat out. “No one was talking to you.” Looking at the Queen again, he asked, “How well do you sleep in your ivory tower, knowing that this war is all on Link? He has saved you, Impa, Lana, everyone in this room, this whole kingdom, but who is saving him as he drowns in his own thoughts of doubt and self worth? Who does he get to lean on when it becomes too much to carry alone on his shoulders? He isn’t some plaything from the goddess, he is a real person who deserves better than this. Heroes deserve better than this!”

The same nobleman decided to speak up again. “What would you know of a Hero’s job? You call yourself a hero, but how could an eleven year old understand the complexity of war and what Link is to uphold his part as the hero?”

Rage boiled in Mask’s veins, slowly turning back to the old man. “I took up the role of the hero at age nine, where I was sent to the future by sleeping until I was sixteen. I fought Ganondorf and his bloodthirsty monsters and I defeated him. When I was sent back to my original time as a nine year old, I did it all over again. I earned the title Hero of Time, though it came with many steep costs. I went to an unknown land called Termina, ridding it of one of the most powerful demons ever known to the world, Majora. I did both adventures alone outside of my fairy and the few that I could trust to point me in the right direction, but I walked alone.

“The work of a hero is damning and lonely, even if we aren’t alone. No one truly understands what we need or what we go through. I refuse to let another hero go through the hell I went through for the sake of his country. I don’t care if I have to do it from my grave, heroes from now on will never have to walk alone.”

The silence was interrupted by a puzzled Queen. “This still has nothing to do with you. Leave, Mask, we have work to do and every second that you waste by badgering us with things that are irrelevant, Ganondorf gets stronger. If Link has a problem or an issue, he knows how to deal with it. He is an adult, capable of taking care of himself.”

“Clearly not by the state of his bathroom! The tiled floor is stained in blood, fresh blood has pooled on top of it from where he tried to take care of himself and I’m surprised he’s even standing by how much was there! Do you not care for your Hero?”

“He is not my responsibility!” The Queen stood, matching Mask’s height where he stood.

“Mask, that is enough. This only makes matters worse. It doesn’t matter what happens as long as we win the war.” Link rubbed his face, elbows on the edge of the table. The lack of self preservation was overwhelming. Mask knew what it was like, but his big brother was being thrown to the wolves with no hope.

“See, boy, if our good Captain Link says he is fine, then why should we be listening to you? Now, run along and let the adults handle things.”

If Mask could have gotten away with it, he would have skewered that old bastard. Instead, he took the Fierce Deity mask, sighing, “Since you won’t listen to me, maybe you will listen to him.” He pressed the mask to his face with a scream. The scream wasn’t because of the pain like others thought, but because of the amount of emotion trapped inside with no way to release it except when Mask used them. Fierce Deity's hurt the worst.

“Mask no!!” Link hollered and scrambled to get to the youngest in the room.

The wooden table groaned under the weight of the god that now stood where the young Link was. The Deity knew why he had been called on, afterall he could go through the mask’s wielder's thoughts. His glowing eyes took in the room, landing on Link who was now doubled over and clutching his side, blood coming through the green tunic.

The Deity growled in disgust, “It takes a child to make you see what you already know, yet you call yourselves the responsible adults. I would have never treated my own men with such disregard.”

Much like Mask, his eyes locked on Zelda’s, lips pulled back to show all his teeth. “You, Queen Zelda, I would expect so much more from my sister’s blood than what you have become. You disgrace the goddess’s bloodline and all she believed in.”

Link took in a wheezing breath. “D-Deity…” He collapsed to the ground, head nearly slamming into the stone floor if it weren’t for the Deity’s quickness.

Large gloved fingers inspected the head in his hands, feeling for damage. He sighed when he felt the bump below the crown of the young man’s head. If he remembered correctly, Link got his with a shield there. Placing the man’s head on the ground softly, the Deity pulled the tunics and chainmail up, showing bandages soaked and hardly wrapped around him properly.

Almost like she cared, Zelda was at their side. “I had no idea… truly. We need to get him to the infirmary right away.”

“You will do nothing. You do not get the right to suddenly step up for him and care about his well being. I will take him to his quarters and watch over him. He needs rest, not people hovering over him. Besides, friends and foe are wearing the same colors nowadays.”

With Link in his arms, he made his way to the door, but stopped short to say one last thing. “If his body gives way and we lose him, my host will not fight in this war, I will make sure of it. You will do this on your own and you will lose.”

#ao3 writer #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #linked universe #hero of warriors #hero of time #lu mask #fierce deity #wow… I really behind #but I will finish!!!

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