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f1byjessie · 29 days

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part twelve.

The first coherent thing you say the morning after, as you tug your sweatshirt back over your head and resolutely ignore the sculpted planes of Lando’s abdomen while he lounges in bed and watches you, is: “This can never happen again.”

He makes an inquisitive sound. “Can this maybe wait until I’m actually awake?”

You look over your shoulder just in time to catch him yawning into his elbow, and for half a second find the drowsiness to be endearing━ the way his knuckles rub languidly at his half-lidded eyes, his scratchy morning voice, and the wild case of bedhead that’s got his curls sticking up in every direction. It’s only when your gaze finds and latches onto the dark bruise sucked onto his collarbone that you remember you can’t be entertaining this anymore than you already have, adorable sleepy morning habits be damned.

“Lando.”

At his name, he opens his eyes again and meets your stare.

“This━” you gesture between yourself and him, “━can never happen again.”

You do feel sympathetic for trying to have what’s intended to be a serious conversation so early in the morning, especially when he’d really only been woken up by you practically throwing yourself out of bed, but the gravity of the situation had slammed into you the moment you’d opened your eyes to see his peacefully slumbering face across from yours.

There isn’t actually a clause in your contract that forbids you from entering a romantic relationship with anyone else on the team━ technically, there aren’t any mentions at all about anti-fraternization rules━ but just the thought of how badly this could fuck things up for the both of you has you preemptively planning to take an ibuprofen or two the minute you make it back to your own hotel room in preparation for the nasty headache you’re sure to get.

Firable offenses aside, McLaren could just as easily cite some other reason to decide not to renew your contract at the end of the year if they deem the “partnership” between you and Lando to be too detrimental to his performance ability. You might be a good photographer, but Lando’s a great driver and he’s certainly more valuable to the team than you are. He’s a one of a kind, and you’re one of plenty in a market saturated with young talents desperate for a chance to make it big.

On top of that, you’re not even sure how ethical it is to sleep with your coworker, all things considered. It’s your job to follow him around every week and take pictures that you plaster all over social media. You’ve already gotten a glimpse of how difficult things can be in the midst of an argument, but if things turn serious━ assuming, of course, that Lando is after something serious and that this isn’t just a bit of fun meant to keep him entertained with the added convenience that you’ll be traveling with him for the foreseeable future━ what sort of added ramifications would an argument have then? You’re not sure the professionalism the two of you have managed the last few weeks prior to making up would be able to survive a messy breakup.

“You’re spiralling,” he comments, sliding out from beneath the covers of the bed. He’s very nonchalant about his nakedness.

You avert your eyes.

“So maybe it’s morally grey territory,” he continues, leisurely collecting his clothes from where they wound up strewn across the floor after being discarded amidst the night’s activities. “But we’re both consenting adults━” he tugs his sweatpants back on, “━and so long as we both stay consenting adults I don’t see what the problem is. I don’t really have any plans to be magically turned into a baby anytime soon. Unless you did?”

You stare at him incredulously, ignoring the fact that he’s still shirtless and now that he’s standing and facing you it gives a clear view of all the hickeys painted across his skin. Hickeys that you left there, and that you can remember leaving there despite attempting to shove the memories down and forget them.

He stares right back.

“In case you suddenly forgot, I’m supposed to be in a committed and exclusive relationship with someone else,” you hiss.

“Yeah, but it’s not real. You aren’t actually dating him,” he answers back with a shrug. “It’s a PR stunt, you said.”

You don’t actually care about Garrett Ward or the fake claim of faithfulness between the two of you. If there weren’t guaranteed to be nasty consequences for you, you’d let the staged relationship crash and burn in a blaze of vengeful glory. But that’s exactly what’s stopping you━ the consequences. It isn’t just your reputation on the line like it would be if you were some no-name fan who somehow managed to score lucky. If you go down, your career goes with you and that also means waving goodbye to Lando and Formula One as a whole.

Even if you managed a miracle and didn’t lose your job, the media would not look favorably upon you. At best, there would be a smattering of fans from people like Jack and Lando speaking up on your behalf who would defend you for a month or two, maybe a media outlet with a more present stance on women in sports would try to lessen the blow if the right people said the right thing. But the reality is that you could sit down and regale the whole story about Garrett’s blackmail━ starting from the very first call asking you to dinner and detailing the proof of his threats and manipulation━ and there would still be people out there painting you as the villain in his story.

You’d be designated another “bitch” who ruined the career of a perfectly good athlete, and they’d speculate into your motives, into why you chose to tear him down. It would discredit the actual wrongness of Garrett’s own actions and instead pin the blame on you and your jealousy. Or, whatever else they’d attribute it to.

So no, you don’t care about Garrett Ward or his rotten excuse for a heart. His feelings can go fuck themselves for all you care. But even still…

“The public doesn’t know that, Lando,” you start to explain. “I can’t be seen with you because, fake or not, do you know how horribly it would end for me if I were painted as some adulterous slut? They already tore me to pieces just because I was with him in the first place, can you imagine how bad it would be if it got out that I’d supposedly cheated on him? Do you know how much meaner these people would get if they somehow believed they’d been proven right about me? That the things they were saying were right all along?”

He’s silent now.

“There’s a reason I haven’t tried to get myself out of this situation already,” you continue, beginning to pace the length of the hotel room. “Like I told you yesterday, even if he makes his claims and I manage to prove him wrong, the damage to my reputation would ruin me. I’m lucky that I had McLaren to come back to and that’s what made it easier to push back on his demands, but can you imagine if I didn’t have anything lined up after that City gig? I would’ve been even more desperate to get any sort of work and Garrett absolutely would’ve capitalized on that. And I can’t keep banking on the fact that McLaren will save the day because what if one day they don’t?”

Lando crosses the distance between you and rests his hands on your shoulders, bringing your harried pacing to a stop. He looks like he’s about to give you a pep talk, and the absurdity of the thought is almost enough to make you forget about the seriousness of this entire situation and laugh. Almost. You are, unfortunately, still painfully aware of the line you’re now walking and how terrifyingly thin it is.

“McLaren would never get rid of you, so you don’t have to worry about that,” he says after a moment.

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, shaking your head and pulling free from his grasp to resume your nervous treading in another section of the room. “You can’t know that. Honestly, the backlash this could have would probably be enough to get McLaren to fire me on the spot. If not immediately, then there’d at least be enough harassment from Garrett’s fans for them to eventually decide letting me go would be the best course of action for the sake of their own reputation.”

He crosses the distance between you again, and this time pulls you into his arms entirely. He’s still warm from being beneath the covers and you soak up the comfort as much as he’s allowing you to, burying your face into the crook of his neck and reciprocating his hug by wrapping your own arms around him and grabbing at the back of his shirt.

“Obviously, this is something you’ve thought about a lot,” he starts, running his fingers up and down your back soothingly. “And it clearly stresses you out. But I really like you, Y/N. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. I’ve fancied you since I met you. You walked in and it was like one of those dumb romcoms you’ve made me watch. I just… I just knew. And I wanted you to like me, too.”

You hum in acknowledgement and sag deeper into him, clutching tighter at his shirt. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because you hated me,” he answers simply with a tiny shrug. “Or, at least, I thought you did. And then you didn’t, but we were still so new to being friends that I didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. I got so anxious thinking about what would happen if we broke up. It would ruin the friendship, but it would also potentially ruin your career if we couldn’t both do our job and I didn’t want to fuck that up for you. So, I was content to just have you close, honestly. That was enough.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

He sighs. You feel the rise and fall of his chest more than you actually hear it. “Garrett Ward is a raging prick and I stand by all the things I’ve said about him, but maybe some of it was influenced by me thinking he’d taken you away from me. And, when I called you that night piss drunk at Daniel’s, I was projecting the anger I felt towards myself onto the people around me. I didn’t take any risks, and because of that I was convinced that I’d lost you in every way that mattered.”

He holds you a bit tighter, “And we know how I handled that.” It’s quiet and he sounds miserable. You pull back just enough to see him looking piteously out the window, a pained look painted across his features.

You release your hold on his shirt and trail your hands across his body until you can grab his face and turn his gaze back on you.

When he’s staring into your eyes, you say, “I want this, Lando. You and me. I really do, I promise. But I can’t.”

His face falls. “If you let his influence over you control every aspect of your life, then hasn’t he already won? He’s gotten what he wanted. He doesn’t need you to be desperate for a job, because he has control over you anyway.”

If it were said in any other context or by any other person, you’d bristle at the accusation that you’re letting Garrett take whatever he wants without at least attempting to put up a fight. You’ve pushed back where you can, where it’s safest, but you have to prioritize your livelihood too and if that means asking how high when he says jump, you’ll do what you must. Not that it feels good to bend to the whims of a man who gets what he wants through fear.

“I just mean━” he hurries to correct himself, as if sensing you offense, “━you shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything that brings you joy just because you’re afraid of what he might do or how the media will perceive it due to his presence in your life. You have every reason to be hesitant to fight back against the power he holds over you, you just shouldn’t have to be.”

You pull him back in and sink into his arms again, pressing your face into his chest to hide the shine of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t promise that there won’t be backlash,” he continues. “But I can tell you that McLaren will stand behind you. I’ll make sure of it. And if they don’t, I’ll walk.” He says it likes it’s nothing━ like he isn’t saying he’ll give up everything he’s worked for just for you. “I can get you a really nice lawyer, too. If you’d want one. Or, you know, if you’d want to come out about what all Ward’s done.”

The idea sounds impossible and yet it’s so close━ close enough that Lando is practically offering it to you on a silver platter. The idea of just coming out with it all and exposing the horrible things Garrett has done. You know on top of Lando’s support, Jack and the other Manchester City boys would side with you, too, and the other members of the team behind the scenes who you worked closely with throughout your time at Etihad Campus. It’s a lot of people, and by proxy you’d probably have a large amount of their fanbase as well.

It seems too good to be true.

But Lando’s offering you the chance to make it a reality.

“I’m supposed to still be mad at you right now,” you mumble into his shirt.

He huffs out a laugh, “Being mad at someone and being in love with them aren’t mutually exclusive feelings.”

“Who said anything about being in love with you?” You tease, though you’re practically melted into his arms.

“I mean,” he starts, and just from the sound of his voice you can tell he’s about to say something stupid and cheeky and it’ll make you want to slap him upside the head. “The way you treated me last night kind of implies that you at least like me pretty seriously.”

You groan in feigned annoyance, pulling away from him just in time to catch the dazzling grin splitting his face. It’s a beautiful sight that you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of no matter how many times you see it. You recall the caption of a post made what feels like ages ago, but the words ring just as true now as they did then, and you stand by them. A smiley Lando is the best Lando.

“If we’re really doing this,” you start, somberly after another moment, “we have to be careful. Like, really careful. No PDA in public. No PDA anywhere unless we know for a fact that we’re alone and there aren’t any cameras. And no telling anyone unless we absolutely have to for health or security reasons, or something. We can’t have this blow up on us, because if they catch you you’ll be just as much of a target for the hate and I will not have you get caught in the crossfire with this, Lando.”

He finagles around a bit until your hands are held in his and he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I promise,” he whispers against your skin.

It feels like the start of something perfect.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 561,816 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward, a victim of infidelity?! Ward and his girlfriend Y/N L/N first revealed their romance to the world on the 5th of January. Since then, they’ve regularly shared photos of one another across the social media platform Instagram, and have been sighted on dates around Manchester and London. Though the couple have not recently shared any new posts of one another, fans believed this was due to schedule differences, as nothing has been said to indicate an end to their relationship. With the Champions League back in full swing, Ward has been constricted to a busy schedule of matches in Europe, and similarly as a photographer for Formula One team McLaren, L/N has been traveling across the globe. However, she’s apparently more than just friends with McLaren driver Lando Norris! Pictures from the 24th of March at the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne reveal L/N and Norris sharing an intimate moment. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

view all 19,815 comments

user oh… that’s not….

user that is NOT garrett ward for sure 🫢🫢

user honestly a cheating scandal was not on my 2024 bingo card

↳ user i mean i’m not surprised but i definitely thought of the two of them it would be ward tbh 👀

user WHAT DID WE FUCKING SAY

↳ user WE ALL SAW THIS FROM A MILE AWAY

user fucking slag 🙄

user ugh!!! us REAL garrett ward fans KNEW this would happen but everyone called us crazy!!! 😠😠 he deserves someone who ACTUALLY cares about him and we knew from the beginning that she wasn’t it!! honestly just the thought that anyone could POSSIBLY do this is SICKENING!!! garrett is such a loving person and he deserves the WORLD!! i hope he doesn’t let this stop him from finding REAL love some day!! 🥺🥺🫶🫶

↳ user ikr?!?! it’s so not fair that he’d choose her when she’d just use and abuse him when he has so many loyal fans that would treat him so much better and would actually love him and all he has to offer. she totally must’ve manipulated him or something!!

user damn… i wasn't l/n’s biggest fan in the beginning but i kinda hoped she’d prove me wrong… yet here we are…

user this is seriously so disappointing to see

user SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬

user long distance is not an excuse to cheat and this is such a horrible thing to do to a partner. garrett ward has been exceptionally nice to her, and this is what she gives in return? so many ppl tried to warn him about her closeness to lando norris too. i’m disappointed but not surprised that this was the result. girls like this truly have no shame and no dignity. they don’t know loyalty at all.

↳ user we tried to warn him and this is what happens? like we tried, but you ignored us and called us crazy. make it make sense 😮‍💨

↳ user the fact that he was genuinely so sweet by taking her on dates and posting her on his socials and she turns around and stabs him in the back like this… my heart hurts for how upset he must be right now. and honestly, this lando norris guy is just as much to blame for garrett’s pain too.

↳ user i’m willing to give norris the benefit of the doubt if only because we’ve seen girls like this before who manipulate athletes into giving her what she wants and if they don’t then they move onto the next. obviously ward wasn’t going to just roll over for her every whim, so now she’s moving onto the next guy and is trying to manipulate him the same way she did ward. norris is as much of a victim as ward is.

user WHORE BEHAVIOUR I CALLED IT FROM THE GET GO GUYS

user she really said “hold my beer” and went to go prove us all right about our initial assumptions 👀👀

user knew i should’ve trusted my instincts when they told me she was bad news…

user AINT NO WAY INFAMOUS WOMANIZER GARRETT WARD, AS IN NOTORIOUS CHEATER GARRETT WARD, GOT CHEATED ON BY THE FIRST GIRL HE WAS IN A SERIOUS COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP WITH 😂

user lowkey had high hopes for them bc i gen thought ward garrett was changing his ways and was trying to settle down

↳ user me toooooooo i thought she was gonna be a good influence on him 😔

user can you blame her tho?? you try moaning “garrett” in bed and see how that goes for you

user just because they haven’t said anything about ending their relationship doesn’t mean they haven’t ended it privately! honestly who are we to judge them for not telling the public every detail about their personal lives? this was obviously not a moment intended for us to see and was meant to be shared between l/n and norris, and i honestly find this account in general to be incredibly invasive as most if not all of the photographs the articles are written about are from paparazzi and look as though they were taken without the consent or knowledge of the people in them.

↳ user THANK YOU!! 🙏 i’ve been trying to say that for so long!! speculation is so dangerous and harmful to the very real people that are involved and it can have consequences on them and their careers. these pictures do look very damning, but we’re lacking context into l/n and ward’s lives and we shouldn’t judge anyone involved in this before we have the full story. for all we know, the relationship was ended and this is l/n’s new partner, in which case we should be respectful of her choices to be with someone else and should also respect their privacy and take into consideration the fact that there was probably a reason her and ward didn’t announce a split.

↳ user the only comment of sense on this entire post. istg, some of these ppl just have too much time on their hands and spend it all worrying about the love lives of celebrities that don’t even know they exist. y/n and garrett are both adults and can make decisions for themselves without needing the support or backing of people who don’t actually know anything about them beyond the persona they put on for the public. even if she did cheat, garrett’s a big boy and can take care of himself. he doesn’t need an army of women and girls either half his age or double it coming to his defense. be so fucking for real and maybe go touch some grass while you’re at it.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: we are back in business! i am very happy with this part and how it turned out. there's a bit of a time skip between pre-season testing and the australian grand prix obviously, but all questions shall be answered in the next part! thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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stnexus · 4 months

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the way gojo sleeps headcanons…!

gojo satoru + mentions of black!fem!reader

general audience + SFW

cw: none really, sfw, fluff mostly, pet names, use of “i love you”

names used(?): princess, babe, pretty, pretty boy

gojo seems like the type to sleep with his hands tucked below the waistband of his sweatpants.

if he does not have them tucked into his sweats, sleeps with his hand underneath your shirt, with no sexual intent.

he sometimes randomly squeezes at your hips unintentionally as he sleeps.

gojo grumbles and talks in his sleep, sometimes you can make out full sentences.

he jumps in his sleep, wakes up the next morning and claims he did not have a nightmare and has no clue of what you are talking about.

on cold mornings, gojo is nearly suffocating you with how he has you pulled against his chest. + blankets wrapped around the both of you so tight you couldn’t move even if you tried.

on hot nights, he eventually kicks the covers off of you both entirely. just so he can keep you close without the possibility of you both overheating.

gojo will get you extra comfortable on top of him just to wake up less than an hour later and state that he has to pee.

though if the shoe were on the other foot, and he was asleep when you have to pee, it’s like he has an iron grip on you as he grumbles absolute nonsense.

“ ‘toru, let go i gotta pee.”

“shhh, princess, it’s time.”

“time for what? don’t play with me right now…”

falls asleep on top of you sometimes, the weight of him being on top of you grounds you a bit.

his face buried in your neck as he plants a kiss on your neck from time to time.

don’t worry, if you wake up with a full body ache he will definitely start massaging you immediately.

has had nights where he has knocked your bonnet off completely, but you both just chalk it up to constant movement. clueless to what actually happened.

⧼ bonus ⧽

“babe…” satoru’s voice trails into a bunch of jumbled nonsense. somehow you could still manage to make out him calling for you, though with your back to him you are unsure if he is awake. your hand rubs over his arms that are wrapped around your waist, his hands tucked under your baggy shirt.

“huh? i’m still awake,” you speak softly into the quietness of the dark bedroom, knowing your stillness may have left him confused on whether you were awake. your eyes still closed as you try to drift off to sleep. taking in gojo’s breath fanning softly over the back of your neck.

“…mmm, maybe,” he grumbled again as if he was having an entirely different conversation with you. your brows furrowed until you realized he had fallen asleep. his words were a mess but he managed to throw out another coherent thought, “ mhm, ‘love you, pretty.”

the sentence brought a lazy smile to your lips, as your eyes stayed screwed shut, but you responded — hoping he would hear you in his dream.

“love you too, pretty boy…”

#✧ read along #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x black!reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo jjk #gojo jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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frannyzooey · 1 year

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Short Days, Long Nights: 2

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: none — I’ll change it to E when we get there (slow burn, forced proximity, age gap — no age actually mentioned but rather more implied through lack of life experience, competence kink, hunting)

Summary: Part of a band of travelers, your party is slowly picked off one by one, until there are only two of you left. Finding an abandoned cabin in the woods, you decide to make camp there until you figure out your next move. As the seasons change, the nights get longer and longer…..

A/N: a truly endless amount of thank you’s to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who took SO MUCH TIME to make this actually coherent, and @mourningbirds1 who always asks the best, most inspiring questions. I love you both ❤️ Enjoy!

Chapter One

He shouldn’t be encouraging this.

He shouldn’t.

His head bowed, his steps careful as his eyes scan the forest floor for animal tracks, he had thought the wide open forest and a temporary relief from your close presence would help clear his head, but it doesn’t.

The bright optimism in your eyes flits through his mind, the confidence in how you told him about the various plants you chose to start with and why, the content smile on your face as you went about your tasks this morning. Cleaning out the old pots, filling them with fresh soil, setting up an area in the kitchen near the window to keep them safe.

He should have said something then, but he didn’t.

Should have said no to begin with, but he couldn’t.

The night you had suggested the garden, he watched you leave the room and felt the urge to call you back, but like many urges he has where you’re concerned, he resisted. Hated himself for immediately shutting down your idea, but reasoned that you were too naive for your own good anyway.

It makes him angry, your hope. He wants to stomp it out of you, harden you like he’s been forced to harden, solely because it will give you the best chance at survival in this world.

That’s what he should do, but the second he had found himself unable to say no, he laid bare a dormant part of him that he had been denying for a while: another piece of him that wants you to keep that innocence. Unable to fathom how you’ve kept it this long, he wants to protect it, like those seeds. Keep it tucked away from the ugly world, save both it and you from waste and ruin.

He hears the whisper of ferns brushing against each other, sees them moving out of the corner of his eye, and he crouches low, listening. Reaching back, he pulls an arrow from the pack he has on his back and, keeping his eyes on the bush, notches it in his bow.

He waits, still and silent.

He had stayed awake long into that night, thinking about how you were right. Every settlement is a nightmare, FEDRA no better than the free cities, smuggling a dangerous game that would most likely end in death the longer he kept on doing it. It’s not something that had really bothered him before – the thought of dying – but that was when it was just him.

For you, it didn’t sit right.

For you, he can’t let that happen. He won’t.

He had gotten up from the couch to pace, mindlessly scanning the bookshelves as his brain ran through every scenario. Stopping on a gardening book, he had decided that if you wanted to make it work, then he was going to do it right. Keep some of that innocence of yours while also being smart about it.

It’s not that you couldn’t hold your own. He has seen it before, but there is still so much that you don’t know. The sole idea of staying in this cabin betrayed your naivety, highlighting what he had already been fighting with himself throughout this entire trip: teach you, so you’d be ready, or keep you from it, so it wouldn’t be your burden to carry.

If you are going to stay here, that changed things.

He should teach you basic skills: how to hunt, how to set traps, how to properly handle a gun if you need to. You could do it if you had to, but you aren’t great. Inexperienced, at best, and as he waits there in the grass, he makes a mental list in his head of the topics he should cover.

Maybe if he focuses his energy on teaching you those things, he can stop thinking about what it would be like to teach you other things. Not that he knows if you need teaching in those areas, but the idea had taken root weeks ago in his dreams and refused to let go.

Waking up hard and aching every morning, trying to close his eyes and will it away — being ashamed of those thoughts though unable to stop them from happening, he shoved them down deep, just like he shoved you away.

Or tried to, anyway.

Impatient, harsh, taking advantage of how intimidated you are of him, he’s been gruff and dismissive, but you followed him all the same. Sticking to him like a shadow because of the protection he offers and he knows that’s part of the problem. The real reason you bleed into his dreams every night, because you’re constantly around him and on his mind every hour of the day.

A sort of misplaced attraction due to proximity alone, just like your own is due to his protectiveness - that’s all.

He has protected you, and he still does. He will protect you from what’s out there, including himself.

He sees the flash of shine, the animal’s eye catching the sunlight, and his fingers react on instinct, letting the arrow loose.

Finding its target, the plant stops moving.

–

“I was good with my hands, but I was never good at that.” Joel gestures at the pot in front of you, leaning against the wall as he watches. “I always killed ‘em all.”

You laugh, gently tamping down the cool soil with your fingers. “You? Big bad Joel Miller? There’s something you’re bad at?”

You haven’t seen it. Not yet, anyway.

A small smile curls under his mustache. “Hard to believe, I know.”

Late afternoon sunlight streams through the now clean windows, and you shake your head at him, reaching into the bucket next to you. Pulling out another fist full of loose soil, you sprinkle it over the surface of the pot.

“Well, good thing I was always good at it.”

You were. Had once thought it a relaxing, mindless hobby. Houseplants all over your apartment, you had found it fulfilling when something bloomed and blossomed and grew. Loved the delicate sloping vines, the broad leaves that reached for the sun, the endless shades of green.

This new version of the world holds growth as well, but it isn’t the same. It is chaotic and overwhelming, plants and roots and whole trees sprouting from beneath the concrete, overtaking whole structures as it takes back what once belonged to it. You find beauty in it still, but sometimes the growth is disgusting and horrifying – when it’s the unnaturally colorful warning of fungus instead of plants, and when it’s a body buried underneath instead of a building.

Pouring a little water into the soil, you think about the tiny red watering can you had, the reminder of the mundane action that used to bring you so much joy weighing heavy on your chest for a moment as your hands wipe together to brush off the dirt.

He pushes off the wall and steps closer — always stays close, even inside, just in case.

The swirl of his protective presence is a heady one, and you’ve become so used to it that you feel a perceptible absence when he’s not in the cabin. The same orbit pulls you unconsciously into his direction now, tilting your body to the side so he can get a better look.

“This one should bud fairly fast, according to the packet,” you say, trying hard not to noticeably breathe in his warm scent. He doesn’t often get this close, and you hold as still as possible to encourage him to stay. “Then we can move it outside.”

He says nothing, his skepticism apparent through his silence, and you turn your head, looking at him. The wiry patch of gray that gathers at the edge of his jaw calls out for your touch, the light strands threaded among the dark, and you keep your eyes on it for a moment, tearing them away when he looks at you. His eyes focus on yours, a pull of something filling the air between you for a weighted beat, and then he shifts his gaze back to the pot.

“We’ll see.”

You roll your eyes at his ever-present pessimism, opening your mouth to ask him what he had meant about being good with his hands before since he’s never talked about before with you, but he stands, talking first.

“I was thinking this morning,” he starts, leaning against the wall again. “I should teach you how to hunt.” He pauses, his expression shifting into something more resolute. “I’m going to teach you how to hunt.”

You look up at him, wide eyed and questioning, and he meets your eyes again for a moment before looking away, directing his words at the floor.

“You should probably know how to do it, if we’re gonna stay out here. Just in case something happens to me, and I can’t do it.”

Your face goes still at the thought, and he backtracks, “Like if I get sick or something. Can’t get outta bed.”

“Knowing you, old man, you’ll be faking. Anything to stay in bed longer.”

He huffs, amused. “It’s a pretty comfortable one, I have to admit. It’s been nice not sleeping on the ground.”

The beds are better than the ground for comfort, but you liked the ground for safety. Better to have him close should you need him, and you assume he feels the same way, given the way he conveyed his displeasure with the distance wordlessly, insisting the doors stay open at all times.

“We better go before the sun goes down, try to get more than I got this morning.” His eyes flick over to the hallway. To your open door, the privacy of your room just beyond.

“Sure. Just lemme get dressed.”

Standing to carry the pot over to the window sill, you arrange it just so, right next to the other seedlings, and when you turn to head towards your bedroom, you feel his eyes on you until you’re out of his sight.

–

Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk behind him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you follow without question. You’ve followed them for months now, those shoulders ones that you’ve seen damp with rain, covered under the taut drum of his flannel, tight and tense in unfamiliar territory and now, relaxed and loose, as he walks over to the now still bush.

“Did you get it?”

He nods in your direction, crouching with a soft grunt. “Yea. I got this one, next one is you.”

“You’ve always done it,” you grumble to yourself, watching the path. Your heart aches for the animal, but you’d never admit that softness to him. You know you have to eat, but to see it happen, to be the one who kills something so innocent - that’s a whole other matter.

You should be used to it by now. But while you have been able to justify killing people as a means to survive, knowing they would do the same to you if given the chance, you still get slightly squeamish about doing it to animals just minding their own business.

“You wanna stay out here, you’re gonna have to learn sooner or later.” He reaches down, grabbing the small, limp rabbit by the ears, and it hangs dead in his grip, not as heavy as he hoped. He stands and turns, leading you deeper into the woods.

Your fingers catch on the feather light branches of ferns, everything a wash of muted color as dusk descends, and it’s peaceful in your mutual silence, the woods around you alive with its own sounds.

“We can wait here,” he says, stopping at the edge of a small clearing. The leaves of the trees rustle in the wind, a rabbit popping out long enough to hide behind some tall grass nearby, and he crouches low, your body automatically following his lead.

“Normally you wanna keep walking. You can scare em’ out of the bushes that way. Rabbits, you let em’ know you’re coming. It’s deer you gotta stay silent for.”

You plant a knee in the moist earth, dampness creeping through your jeans, and he fixes something on his bow. Your eyes rest on the skillful way his fingers move along the bow string, the size of them compared to the delicate wood.

Satisfied, he holds it out to you with an expectant look.

“Show me how you’re gonna hold it.”

Unsure, you hesitate before you take it from him, but he waits patiently all the same. You’ve never held a bow before and when you look down at it for a beat too long, he shifts until he’s right next to your side.

“Like this,” he says quietly.

He positions your body how he wants it, the practiced weight of his hold guiding you into place, and you let him do it, trying to ignore the increasing thrum of your heart. Something stirs deep in your belly, arousal beginning to bud and unfurl, and then his calloused hand is sliding down your forearm, wrapping your fingers around the bow.

“Hold it up, and look with your dominant eye. Like when you shoot.”

You test it out, closing one eye and then the other, the tip of the arrow visually landing directly in the middle of a thicket of tall grass.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his drawl curling low in your ear and a shiver rolls through you under your jacket, your fingers starting to tremble. He sees it, placing his hand on top of yours with a reassuring squeeze, and you hold your breath.

“They always come out at dusk,” he says softly, the husk of his voice matching the low lit setting. “That and right away in the morning.” He glances at you with a smirk. “Thought you’d prefer this with how you like to sleep in.”

You can’t turn your face to look at him, lest your mouth brush his, and so you breathe out a laugh instead.

“Very funny,” you whisper.

Your leg cramping slightly in your tense position, you shift a little and he places his hand on the small of your back to steady you.

“You wanna look for something shining in the dark. Their eyes, you’ll be able to see them. They reflect whatever light is around, and you’ll see it flash if you’re patient.”

You keep your eyes trained on the spot, a slight rustle to the brush, and focusing there with intensity, you wait, slipping into a sort of trance. His closeness is intoxicating, the solidness of his hold still pressing lightly into you, his voice a gentle, guiding murmur as the woods grow darker around you.

His voice lingers in your mind, catching on every ridge, embedding itself and playing on a never ending loop. He’s spoken more to you today than he ever has, and every word has been a piece of useful information - things you’re trying hard to hold onto, but he’s making it difficult with how overwhelming his presence is. The way he’s guiding you with that soothing, low voice makes you think about what other things he can talk you through in the middle of the quiet night.

You swallow hard, your mouth dry, and he looks from the bush to you, a frown pulling between his brows.

The grass rustles again, and between the blades of ferns, you see it - a sudden flash of something shining.

“There,” he whispers urgently, prompting you to let the arrow loose, but you don’t. Instead you find yourself hovering on the edge, hesitating just long enough for the animal to sense you, and it moves suddenly with a thrash, bounding away.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What happened? Why didn’t you shoot?”

You look at him, the words pulling you from your head. Your eyes are hooded with want, your mouth slightly parted and his own gaze narrows in something akin to recognition, but it disappears from his face before you’re sure. He stands, getting some distance between the both of you.

“Nevermind. It’s fine.” He won’t look at you, instead letting his gaze rest somewhere out in the field, and your head clears as the thick tension you felt earlier dissipates into thin air, vanishing into the twilight.

“I think you’ve had enough for today. We can uh – we can pick up tomorrow. It’s getting dark anyway.” He stands there for a moment, weight shifting from one leg to the other while he taps the edge of his thumb against his thigh, and then he’s gone, leaving you sitting there alone.

–

Choosing to dress the rabbit he shot earlier alone down by the water, you prepare everything else inside. You watch him make the pit, his thighs taut in their crouch as he prepares it to burn hot and low, and when he’s done cooking, you eat together in relative silence.

He hasn’t said anything about your lesson or about picking it up tomorrow, but the way he won’t meet your eyes has embarrassment and shame coursing through you. Becoming a burden to him is something that you can’t afford and taking his avoidance of the topic as disappointment, you are stewing on apologizing when he clears his throat, sitting forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

“I’m gonna set some traps tomorrow. I think you should help me, so you know where they are.” He brings his eyes up to yours for the first time since he’s come inside. “And so I can show you how to set them.”

Relief washes through you, and you nod, agreeing “I’m sorry, by the way. About earlier.” He frowns in confusion, and you clarify. “With the rabbit. Sorry I didn’t shoot. I’ll – I’ll try harder next time. Focus, like you asked.”

You had been focusing, just on the wrong thing, and his frown gives way to a look of understanding.

“Don’t worry about it. Your first time holding a bow, wasn’t it? Wasn’t expecting you to actually make a kill or anything. Just wanted to get you used to it.”

Second chances are something you aren’t often afforded, but here it’s different. Here, you can take your time and learn without the pressure of death as a consequence for your mistake, and it’s like he knows it too, with how understanding he’s being.

He stands, preparing to do his usual checks for the night while you gather the dishes and place them in the sink for washing tomorrow. He grabs his rifle from the counter, leaving the cabin to walk the perimeter and then comes back in with a stomp of his boots on the rug to check every lock, scanning the forest through the window before he tells you he’s going to turn in for the night.

“Goodnight,” you say, settling in to read on the couch.

Delighted to find a bookshelf in nearly every room, you had spent the last couple of days going through the titles, selecting the ones you wanted to start with and reorganizing the shelf in your room to store them.

Assembling your own personal library, Joel’s face had been amused as he watched you, and you had thought maybe he would say something to discourage it. At the very least make a teasing comment, but he had held back.

Victory was yours later when you spied a worn western on his bedside table, the paperback lying open, face down.

You read for about an hour, your eyes eventually burning with tiredness in the low, flickering light of your lantern, and deciding to also turn in, you glance at that western when you pass by his bedroom.

Stopping in the shadowed doorway, you look at him for a moment.

His broad back facing you, his shoulders are a steady, slow rise and fall. He shifts, rolling onto his stomach and the t-shirt he’s wearing strains tight across his torso as he bunches his pillow, adjusting it under his head. You see a sliver of his back in the darkness, a slice of it beneath the hem of his shirt, and the dip of his spine leads downwards, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Crawling into your own bed with your door open, you lie in the darkness and concentrate on the sensation of warm, firm velvet skimming under the pads of your fingers, his back still on your mind.

Crawling into your own bed with your door open, you lie in the darkness and concentrate on the sensation of warm, firm velvet skimming under the pads of your fingers, his back still in your mind.

Stopping in the shadowed doorway, you look at him for a moment.

Satisfied that he seems to be okay, you crawl into your own bed and with your door open and lying in the darkness, you drift off to the sensation of firm, warm velvet skating under the pads of your fingers, his back still in your mind.

#joel miller/reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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kissesforsatoru · 10 months

Note

Good morning/afternoon/evening :)

I'd like to request some headcanons for Mikey and Izana where the darling had a one night stand with them as a revenge on their cheating boyfriend. The darling planned for it to be a one time thing and never see the boys again but unfortunately they get attached.

MIKEY AND IZANA x READER (separate)

₊˚⌗ darling thinking they're having a one-night stand, but unfortunately, izana and mikey get attached.

⤷ cw : NSFW 18+, general yandere themes, possessive behavior, drugging (mikey; only sleeping pills), kidnapping (mikey), use of pet names (baby, pretty baby), coercion, reader is implied to be weaker than izana, gn!reader for mikey and implied fem!reader for izana (no pronouns though, reader just has a pussy).

note : i have a candle that smells like whiskey and coffee and i honestly think that the scent fits mikey a lot; if you don't think so i don't care >:( it smells good

mikey doesn’t take it well when he realized you actually planned to never see him again. he thought maybe his dick would be enough to make you wanna stay, if not his sweetly strung words and the way he cared for you as he fucked you. he’d just gotten done cumming on your stomach when you sighed, utterly spent, and told him that you would be gone by morning, and thanks for the help. what a joke. too bad for you, mikey slipped a drug in your mouth while you were asleep so you wouldn’t wake up when he took you.

you wake up groggier than you thought you would have, your head clouded and your eyes feeling heavy with tiredness. you groan and roll over in the bed onto your back, pulling the covers down from your body when you realize how hot it is. the cool air feels nice, and finally after being a wake for a few seconds you will your eyes open. you're so out of it though that you don't even notice you weren't in the room you fell asleep in until a door clicks open, sobering your hazed thoughts.

you jolt up in bed and look around the room, which is not a hotel room. the scent in the air is of coffee and whiskey rather than the refreshing, clean smell of the hotel room you were in. smells like mikey, you realize when the memory of you clinging onto the man from last night because of how delicious he smelt floods your thoughts.

speaking of, the very man you'd spent hours with last night steps into the room, closing the door behind him when he does.

"mikey...?" you call meekly, and he snaps his head up to look at you.

"oh, hey baby. didn't think you'd be up for a few more hours," he says casually as he walks towards your disheveled form on the bed. you look at him with a blank expression because you're not quite sure what to say, or think for that matter, but you know that this should not be happening—something isn't right.

"uh, where... where am i?" you ask hesitantly. is that something you should ask someone who potentially kidnapped you? maybe not, but your head still feels all fogged up which makes your coherency and rationality not all here at the moment.

"my house," he says simply, and your only rection to the confirmation that you were literally kidnapped, is a small pout and slump of your body. maybe it's how casual mikey is about the whole thing that keeps you at ease, or maybe it's the fact that he fucked you so well that you can't possibly think he would kill you; either way you aren't entirely scared, just... confused, and maybe a little bit concerned.

"okay... well, why am i here?" you ask him, pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard of the bed you're laying in. you pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them for a little bit of security when mikey sighs frustratedly and crawls onto the bed towards you. maybe you were wrong and he actually will kill you??

"listen, pretty baby," he tells you lowly, pulling gently on your ankle to make you fall back into the bed. he crawls over you and presses himself between your legs while pinning your wrists above you with one of his hands. "i don't know where you get off trying to leave me, but you need to get one thing straight in that pretty little head of yours: you belong to me now and i'm not fuckin' letting you go."

izana knew you were being serious when you told him. you had asked him many times if he was sure he didn’t mind being used for revenge after all. he said sure, but he didn’t really mean that it was okay. you can try to leave him, but what does poor, little you think you could really do against him? he can easily overpower you. if you want to leave, good luck trying.

"mmh– izana?" you call for him when he continues thrusting inside of you after both of you have already climaxed. you agreed on one round, and then he would take a video of you as he came for your boyfriend to find later, but nothing else after that.

a low grunt reverberates against your neck where his head is nuzzled tightly into, his tongue lapping where he'd been nibbling and kissing for the past few minutes. he pulls out of your neck and runs his hand through his tousled hair as he looked down at you, and upon seeing your confused expression, he smirks.

"awe, look at you. shit, you're so cute like this," he huffs out hotly, tilting his head down at you as he leans back over you, caging you under him once again. his hands are digging into your thighs as he holds you against his hips that are lazily humping into your sensitive, sopping cunt. you whine weakly, your eyes watering from all of the confusion and stimulation.

"what're you doing? we agreed–hngg–" you're cut off when a particularly rough thrust makes you choke and gasp for air, your eyes rolling back and your hands coming to hold onto his shoulders.

"i didn't agree to anything, baby, you just assumed i did. y' really thought i was just gonna let'ya go?" he asks you, a raspy laugh falling from between his lips when you whine and look away from him. he grabs your chin and gently drags you to look back at him, and then his lips press to yours, and he groans into your mouth as you hesitantly kiss him back and pull at his shoulders to bring him closer to you.

"nah, i would never. you're too fuckin–shit, hah–too fuckin' good to give up just like that," he drawls after pulling away from the kiss, "could treat y' better than your man does anyway. i know he doesn't fuck this pretty little pussy as good as i do, so just stay with me, yeah?"

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finalgilmoregirl · 6 months

Text

thanks for all the love on my last two posts, here’s an idea i thought of the other day that i actually was able to fully flesh out

☆ a growing relationship between fnaf movie!mike x fem!mall worker!reader would include :

- pre fnaf movie events

a/n : i made this in head cannon form to save time but i might make a blurb series. ALSO IMPORTANT : i try to make the reader in my fics as physically non descriptive as possible which means i try to stay away from words like “tall, short, pale, thin” etc… if there is ever an explicit description, it’ll be in the title (like how i put “fem!” or “latina”) okay that being said, enjoy!

- movie takes place in 2000s so naturally reader would work in retail whilst in college (movie!mike is thought to be in his mid-20s so i’m also making reader around that age)

- i think the first interaction between the two would be at her place of work, on a particular slow morning

- he’s only had his security job at the mall for about a week, and his employers had him bouncing around different stores, trying to find his place in the building

- which is how he ended up standing at the front your store at 10am

- he’d spoken to the assistant manager for a moment right before opening but it wasn’t until almost an hour into his shift that he’d noticed you

- he’d just failed to stifle his tenth yawn in the last few minutes when he heard your voice, snapping his brain into high alert

- “excuse me?”

- he turned his head in your direction and widened his eyes a bit before trying to relax

- you were talking to him, and you were beautiful

- “uhm, yeah?” he replied, instantly cursing himself in his mind for not replying more politely

- you obviously didn’t mind his response as you smiled sweetly, reaching an arm out, which is what made mike take notice of the to-go cup in your hand

- “sorry, i just thought you could use this.”

- oh! this surprised the man, and you took notice of the look on his face.

- to be fair this was weird, at least a little bit. you’d never given the other security guards coffee. you were always polite to them of course, but you never went out of your way to try to make an impression ike this.

- but then again, none of the other security guards were this cute

- and you thought mike was very cute

- “i know, it’s a bit weird but i was over there stacking clothes and couldn’t help but notice how tired you seemed.” you pointed to where you were just a moment ago, before you’d gone to the back room to get mike his drink

- mike looked to the area you pointed out, taking notice of the pile of clothes you’d seemed to be in the process of organizing

- mike wanted to hit himself. he was so caught up in his own head and trying to force himself awake that he didn’t even notice that you had been a mere ten feet away this entire time.

- he then looked back at you and realized he hadn’t make a single coherent reply to anything you’d said so far

- he shook his head out of his thoughts and gave you a small smile

- “no no that’s not weird” he said, taking the coffee out of your hands and trying to ignore how soft they felt as his fingertips brushed against them, “that’s really nice of you, thank you.”

- you shrugged, playing with your now free hands while trying to ignore how your heartbeat had started to quicken

- “it’s no big deal, i just thought it’d be best if you were awake in case anyone tried to rob us” you joked, earning a chuckle from mike.

- “i’m y/n by the way” you held out your hand to him

- “i’m mike” he said as he took it, giving it a light shake and reluctantly letting go

- you looked into each others eyes for a moment, and warmth started to circulate your bodies

- unfortunately, the moment was gone too fast as one of your coworkers called you over, asking for your help in taking down some boxes

- you looked back at mike, who still held the smallest smile

- “i guess i’ll see you around.” you shrugged, walking away

- as the day went by and the store got increasingly busier, you and mike failed to have anymore interactions and soon, he had to leave, saddened by the fact that he couldn’t say goodbye but also hopeful at the thought that he might see you again

- it wasn’t until a week later that he did

- he unfortunately got stationed at a kiosk near the entrance of the mall, however that didn’t stop him from walking by your store on his breaks in hopes to catch another glimpse of you

- he did this for three days until this routine paid off.

- you were working the cash register, conversing with a young girl and her mother as you bagged their clothing

- “have a good one!” you smiled brightly at the pair as they walked out of store, which is when you saw mike approach the entrance

- he walked in shyly, hands in his pockets

- he’s wanted to see you… but what did he even plan to say?

- “hey mike!” you called out to the brunette as he walked in

- he responded with his own “hi” as he walked up to the counter

- “what are you doing here?”

- “you know, just…taking a walk”

- he looked down for a moment, nerves creeping up on him. well, he thought. i might as well take advantage of this moment. i mean, you’re right there.

- with a sudden surge of confidence (and despite the sweat now pooling down the back of his neck) he looked back up and said : “i actually just realized.”

- you looked back at him expectedly

- “i never got to repay you for that coffee.”

- when asked if you’d like to cash in that debt you replied a bit faster than you would like to admit, and a date was set for the same day

- where mike had four more hours to go after his break, you had three. which you thought was more than fine, just more time to prepare for this date

- you would meet at the coffee place across from the food court after both of your shifts

- and when you did, it was like something out of a movie

- mike of course, as guarded as he his, tried his best from dumping any trauma on you and steered clear from anything he thought was too personal in fear of scaring you away. however after picking up bits and piece from your life, he had a feeling you wouldn’t judge him

- despite you basically being a stranger, he felt more relaxed than he had in years, him learning about you was enough to distract him from whatever nightmares plagued him at all hours of the day, just for a little while

- as time went on and you both kept in touch after your first date, mike began to open up a bit more

- after the first few weeks he told you about abby, more so about their situation

- you sympathized with him a bit, offering advice if he needed it and a helping hand if any issues with their current babysitter came up

- your selflessness solidified his thought that this could be something good, which led to your first kiss after your fourth date

- you figured it would take a while, you sensed from the first date that he would be a tough book to crack open, but you really liked him and were more than happy to be patient.

- back to abby :

- as much as he was okay with talking to you about abby, he hadn’t planned to tell abby about you. not knowing how she would react to adding a random woman to possibly be a part of her life after their mother

- this of course became a small issue when she began to notice how much more time he spent on the phone

- phone bill be damned, he would still lean against the kitchen wall, twirling the phone cord around his finger for at least half an hour while he talked to you

- “who is it?” abby asked one late afternoon.

- where she was supposed to be in bed already, she came out to get a glass of water, catching her brother talking in a hushed voice.

- “don’t worry about it” mike would tell her.

- “what are they saying?”

- “abby can you please just go to your room”

- she would very soon find out about your existence when one evening mike put the phone down for a second to go look for a book he wanted to tell you about

- as soon as he walked out of the room, abby jumped from her place on the couch and snuck to the phone

- “hello?” she whispered, cupping her hand over the transmitter

- “hi” you smiled, picturing the young girl that mike had described to you before

- “who is this?” abby asked, almost aggressively, confused as to why her brother has been talking to a woman

- “i’m y/n” you told her, trying to suppress a laugh

- something clicked in the child then

- gasp “are you mikes girlfriend??”

- it was just then that mike had returned, and with a face of anger and horror her snatched the device from abby’s grasp and lightly shoved her away with a light scolding “abby what the hell did i say?”

- you laughed harder at his tone

- “i am so sorry about that. what did she say to you?”

- “oh nothing” you sighed, “she just asked me if i was your girlfriend.”

- he mouthed a god dammit as he looked to the ceiling

- he wasn’t embarrassed that abby had asked, he was embarrassed that he hadn’t asked you yet

- there’s no protocol to dating as an adult. “will you be my girlfriend?” sounds too childish and when that’s out of the question, where do you go from there?

- “well…” mike shut his eyes tightly as he asked, “what did you say?”

- “i didn’t get to answer. what do you think i should have said?” you said, lighthearted but pointedly.

- swallowing the bile he felt creeping up his throat at the nerves he rubbed his hand to his sweater clad chest

- “i mean…” you continued. “do you want me to be?”

- my god yes he desperately thought but tried his best to sound casual “yeah, i’d like that”

- “well then, i suppose i am your girlfriend. maybe i can actually tell her next time”

- he sensed the teasing in your voice and gave a mixed of a chuckle and a sigh at your answer, the weight the nerves left on his chest lifted.

- “next time” he said softly, “sounds good”

☆ might start planning a part two

#kelly : mike thoughts 💭#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson

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shadowbriar · 10 months

Text

Regulus Black - Supermassive Black Hole IV

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Selwyn!Reader Word Count : 4.2k Warning : Food. Height. Fluff. Synopsis : A simple arrangement turned into an everlasting one as two naïve children try to figure out their heart. Notes : I'm sorry it's taking forever for me to post this, I had a change of heart of how the plot should go and tbh I still dk how to end this story so bear with me please. If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please comment or reblog so I can add you to the tag list. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Taglist: strikethrough means I could not tag you. @lostarc24 @hogwartshouse @milivanili99 @stelleduarte @40rimm @lilmaymayy @mischiefmanagers

↞ Part III

Regulus rolled over to the other side of the bed for the millionth time now. His eyes were staring at the clock by the bedside table, watching as its hands moved and ticks with every second passed. He knew that he had to get up, sooner or later, be it from the knock on his door or the unbearable hunger in his stomach. He barely ate last night. His head was spinning, heavy from the unpleasant memories and regret of his once again apathetic gesture towards her.

It must’ve been her worst birthday party. He spoiled it all the moment he walked in on her and Rosier. Perhaps he should have minded his own business. She has all the right to kiss Rosier if she wanted to, it’s the least bit of freedom he could give to her, but Regulus couldn’t help but feel a little bit triumphant when she seemed to be uninterested in him. That she too finds the idea of kissing Rosier to be baffling.

A loud groan escapes his lips when the next memory floods in. Regret beyond imagination is sticking to his skin like a muck. He wonders what would happen if he did what she asked him, if he would just lean in and kiss her. Would that be a great gift he could’ve given to her? Or would it’ve been a one way ticket to hell for him?

Reaching for his jumper, Regulus finally stood up and walked out of the room. He figures it would be worse to have her knocking on his door than to face her willingly. He could perhaps piece some words to meet her with a cool head than to have him caught red handed.

“Morning,” He greets her as he reaches the dining table.

She looks up to see him, her shoulders slightly tense and it makes Regulus bite his inner cheek a little harder, “Morning.”

Regulus kept his lips in a tight line. He took a seat opposite of her. His fingers locked to each other, an attempt to soothe himself as his brain tries to make some coherent explanation. It proves to be a harder task to do each day whenever she is in the equation.

“Listen, about last night—”

“You’re right,” She cuts in “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying so if we could just.. Forget about what I said, I think that would be best for us all.”

Regulus opens his mouth, wanting to argue with her but finds himself nodding and turning silent, trying to ignore the loud cracking of his heart. Her words twisted a knife in his heart. Somehow he hoped that his words were lies, that she was sober and she really wanted him to kiss her. It wasn’t like he saw her drink anything, anyway. But who was he kidding? There would be no chance in this universe that she would want him to kiss her. No chance. None.

She flashes him a small smile before looking back down to her toasts.

Now what? Regulus thought. Where does it leave them at? He knew that he still owes her an explanation. About the Greengrass, about Rosier, about everything, but is right now the best time to bring it up? And what could he say about it? The truth? Would that do them better or worse?

“Do you have any plans for the day?” Regulus finds himself asking.

She pinched her brows, shaking her head, “I don’t think so, no.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“Well actually, there’s this theme park I wanted to go to with Sirius.”

Regulus nods, finding himself to be more heartbroken, “Right.”

“But if you’d like to come—,”

“Yes.” He says, a little bit too excited for his liking.

“—I can cancel on Sirius.”

Regulus clears his throat, attempting to conceal his embarrassment as her brows rise. His excitement was surely out of character. Something the reserved, quiet, and collected Regulus never does. But then again, he could never be his usual apathetic self whenever it comes to her now, could he?

He wonders what her pinched brows and confused eyes mean. Was it really that appalling that he wanted to go to the theme park with her? Was it wrong of him to show excitement for her offer?

She blinks. Seemingly taken aback to his agreement but her smile slowly blooms. A sight that would be replayed in his head repeatedly before he sleeps tonight, “Alright.”

—-

She finds her teeth slightly chattering from the cold. The weather was playing with her. It was bright and hot when they first came out of the house, but now that the sun is slowly retreating, the wind blows stronger and colder. She was never good with coldness in the first place but she certainly didn’t think it would be this cold tonight. Her thin layer of flannel did not help to preserve warmth and she knew she was pretty much screwed for the rest of the night.

Her knuckles were turning white, body shuddering as she tried to gain some warmth. She could see Regulus glancing at her every once in a while but he never said a word. She knew that he could tell that she was freezing. Hands burrowed deep into the pocket of his coat, Regulus is warm and cosy under his thick layer of wool coat and it's surely shredding all of her dignity to say it but Regulus was right, she should’ve brought a coat.

“Quite the gentleman, you are.” She remarks between her chatter.

“One warm gentleman, indeed.” He says, snuggling into his coat as he sighs “The weather is so nice tonight.”

She glares, certainly not appreciating his sarcasm.

“I’ve told you to bring a coat,” He says as a matter of factly “I’m not going to give you mine, just because you’re cold now. Even if you’re freezing yourself to death and begging me for it.”

“Oh just how chivalrous of a man you are, Regulus.”

He shrugs, buttoning his coat and snuggling deeper to it.

“I am not cold and I most certainly will not ask for your coat.” She replies, her anger giving her the slight raise of temperature “Don’t worry your infuriating little mind about me, Reg.”

Regulus smiles jubilantly, nodding.

She turns to look away, finding herself conflicted once again with his charms. On one side she wanted to slap that enchanting little smirk off of his face but a bigger part of her wanted to take a picture of him and keep it in her pocket.

Regulus has been smiling a lot today, so she noticed. He was beautiful. More beautiful than she remembered him. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she could stare on his face straight on instead of stealing glances like she used to or perhaps Regulus has just simply been enjoying their time, she couldn’t really tell. All she knew is that he looks beautiful this way and she hoped he would show this side more to her.

Now they’re standing in line, waiting for their turn to try on the rollercoaster. Regulus notes lazily that it wouldn’t be much worse than flying for quidditch. He’s played some of the most brutal games as a Slytherin quidditch player, but James said that rollercoasters are worse than flying and she told him exactly that.

“You can hold my hand if it’s too scary for you.” Regulus said as they put on their seatbelt.

If he didn’t have that mocking smirk on his face she would have let herself blush and enjoy the butterflies in her stomach, but instead she rolled her eyes, “You wish.”

But boy, how right James is.

Regulus seemed to be having the time of his life through the loops of the track as she screamed her lungs and clung onto him for dear life. He was laughing, happy cheers escaping his lips. If she wasn’t fighting for her life she would’ve been hypnotised by the happy scream Regulus was shouting. Funny how the one time Regulus truly enjoys their shared moment is when she’s trying her best to not shat her pants.

When the cart stopped, Regulus turned to see how tightly she’s been holding his hand. He smiled at the sight but bit it down and turned the other way before she could see it. She was still panting from the adrenaline but a bright smile was evident on her face. She too seemed to be enjoying the ride.

“Shall we go for another round?”

“I’d love to, but I’m not a big fan of the queueing line.” She says, peeking out “It seems to be longer than before.”

“Well, that’s why we’ve got wands, isn’t it?” Regulus says as he takes out his wand from his coat pocket.

“Regulus, what are you doing?”

Before he could utter the spell, she hurriedly pushed his wand away, widening her eyes in disapproval as Regulus kept his nonchalant self, “What?”

“You can’t use magic in the presence of muggles.” She scolds “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“You said you didn’t want to queue. We could just do a little confundus charm and they wouldn’t know a thing.”

Her jaw dropped, completely horrified at his mischief.

“Just relax.”

“No,” She said before he could take out his wand again “You’re not going to use your magic here.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“Will you two get off? We have a long queue.”

Regulus' glare was certainly terrifying that it made the operator step back, looking intimidated. The boy didn’t look much older than them which made her feel even more sympathetic that she pulled Regulus' arm, dragging him out of the cart with angry steps.

He followed her, a small smile was still tugged on his lips as he watched her. She was evidently seething, for whatever reason he couldn’t understand. He only wanted to make her happy. She said she wanted to go for another round and didn’t want to queue, so what exactly is the issue with doing a little confundus charm? It’s not like anyone would know.

“Alright, ground rule for the rest of the night.” She says as they stopped, turning to face him “No magic. No matter how simple the spell is, or how insignificant it is in your eyes, no magic is allowed.”

“Why?”

She widens her eyes, appalled, “You know why!”

Regulus couldn’t contain his laughter now. Her reaction warms his heart. He finds it adorable how she’s so worked up over little mischief he’s sure no one would bat an eye for. It fascinates him how for once he’s finally the troublemaker instead of the voice of reason. Being in a trio with Rosier and Crouch, Regulus has always been the moral police instead of the third rascal.

“Fine,” He says, messing her hair “No magic for the rest of the night.”

She was stupefied then. His beautiful smile, the tender noise and his gentle gesture, it feels like the Regulus she’s always dreamed of is finally hers. Her cheeks were turning rosy, flustered by the enchanting side he’s showing at the moment.

“Don’t do that,” She says, slapping his hand away from her head “No messing my hair either.”

“You’re blushing.” He remarks with a satisfied smile.

“I most certainly am not.” She argues “It’s from the cold air.”

“Oh, so you admit you’re cold now?”

She glares, not saying a word.

“I’m still not giving you my coat.” He says.

“I did not say I was cold nor was I asking for it.” She spat with evident vexation “Has anyone ever told you just how much of a pain you are, Regulus?”

He shrugs, “Only on my good days.”

She rolled her eyes, taking steps away from him.

Regulus was toying with her, she knew it, and as much as she tries not to give the reaction he’s craving for, she couldn’t help but to give it. He was always right, always so perfect for her to ever be truly angry. The fact that he’s being so lovely tonight makes it impossible for her to hold a grudge longer than three seconds.

“So where to next?” He asked, matching his pace with her.

“We’ve ridden all of the rides,” She says, looking around the park “But one.”

The rogue on her cheeks turn darker as she stares at the Ferris wheel. The stories of her muggleborn friends about how romantic Ferris wheel rides are, echo in her head. She didn’t understand what was so special about the ride. They could certainly just get on their broom to go up and see the city lights but muggles seem to romanticise the ride a lot and she couldn’t help but to hope to feel such romantism with him.

“Alright, shall we go then?”

She turns to meet eyes with him, nodding.

Now they find themselves sitting in one of the cabins. She couldn’t find it in her to see his face because she knew she would be blushing hard once again. The excitement is building up, making her giddy and skittish. She could only hope that the tapping of her feet wasn’t that obvious for him to notice.

“You alright?”

She nods, not facing him, “Yes.”

“Okay.”

Regulus finds it odd how she’s suddenly looking away, not sparing a second to see him ever since they headed to this ride. Was she still angry about him taking out his wand? Was it about him messing her hair? Or was it about something else?

“It’s nice up here,” He comments, trying to break the ice.

She hums.

“Reckon we can see your house from up here?”

“Maybe.”

Regulus frowns. Her sudden coldness was something he didn’t expect to see. Everything was brilliant just a minute ago. He enjoyed their time, feeling as if it was a proper first date for them to have, and he thought that she felt it too. Now he wasn’t so sure.

His finger taps on the metal cart, biting his lower lip as he thinks of the moment things went downhill. She still had that smile when they began walking. It only disappeared when she pointed at this ride, a ride that doesn’t look half as interesting as the others. Compared to the rollercoaster, Regulus would argue that this ride is dull and dreary. Is that really the cause of her sudden change of demeanour? That she didn’t really want to go up this ride?

“Can I ask you something?” She asks, suddenly facing him.

Regulus nods.

“Do you have any muggleborn friends, Regulus?”

He frowns, shaking his head, “No, not really.”

“Right,” She nods, muttering to herself “That makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“Nothing,” She lies “I just remembered that I’ve only ever seen you with Rosier and Crouch.”

Regulus clenches his jaw. Is that it? Is that why she’s suddenly distant now? That she’s thinking of Rosier?

And he thought she was having fun with him. Apparently not.

“Is there something you wanted to know about?” He asked, digging his grave deeper “Do you want to know about my friends?”

“If you want to talk about them, I’m listening.”

Regulus bites the inner of his cheek. It hurts to know that she wanted to know about his friends better, that she was even thinking about them, when they’re literally on a date. Well, she didn’t say it was one but it should certainly be called as. What else would you call this? This certainly goes beyond what a friendly hang out is.

At least in his dictionary.

“You gave a rule earlier, so can I give one too?”

She nods, her brows furrowing a little at his question.

“Can we not talk about anything else but ourselves for the rest of the night?” He asked “I know I owe you a lot but I really hope we could finish the night with just the two of us.”

Her expression changed. There was a hint of tenderness Regulus couldn’t really put a word on. As if she was touched over his words. Like she didn’t expect him to want to spend the rest of the night with just the two of them.

She smiles, nodding, “Alright.”

They turned silent once more. But the air is certainly different now. Tension and awkwardness no longer linger around them, only comfort and mutual understanding that they both wanted to bask in this moment while it lasts. It fills both of their hearts to know that they’re enjoying their time spent together. If only they would say it aloud, they would’ve amplified their happiness by tenfold.

But after a couple minutes of silence, as their cabin got to the peak, the wheel suddenly stopped. The sudden halt was making her panic, squealing in fear as Regulus put his arm protectively around her. The engine stopped.

“Looks like we’re stuck here,” Regulus said, looking down to see people trying to work the machine “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” She said, still clinging on his arm “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

Regulus shrugs, “How should I know? I’ve never been to these kinds of parks before.”

She frowns but remains quiet.

Regulus closed his eyes, feeling the light breeze of the wind as he relaxed his feet. It was refreshing up here. Quiet, calming, serene. It reminds him of his night flies around the castle whenever he needed to get some peace of mind and tranquillity. Perhaps he could go and find more of these rides some time.

One of the things he loved most about this moment is how she’s still holding his arm tightly. He smiles at the thought, how much more comfortable they are with each other over this date. Perhaps he should’ve done this years ago.

“This is nice.” He comments, still with his eyes closed.

Silence.

Regulus opened his eyes, turning to see her who has her head now resting on his shoulder, “Hey, you alright?”

“Do you think it’s still gonna be long until the engine comes back on?”

“I don’t know,” He says truthfully, pulling away to see her better “Are you okay? Should we just disapparate?”

“No,” She says fast, finally looking up to him “No magic, remember?”

“Well you don’t seem to be enjoying this ride.” He points out “Surely we can make an exception.”

“It’s not the ride that’s the problem,” She says, her teeth chattering a little “I’m cold.”

Regulus bites his smile. He wanted to rub it on her face, how he’s right from the beginning and she was just too stubborn to admit it, but the tormented look on her face made him think twice. She seemed to be really bothered by the coldness that to be fair, was nothing for Regulus, but still, he wouldn’t give his coat.

Instead, Regulus unbuttoned his coat and took off one side of it, gesturing to her to come closer.

“We both can’t fit inside, Regulus.” She notes.

“Well, I told you I’m not giving you my coat, so either we squeeze in or you freeze yourself to death.” He says with a nonchalant shrug “Your choice.”

She looks at him with disbelief. As if she couldn’t believe that the man sitting in front of him, acting cheeky and playful, was Regulus Black. Everything about him today just doesn’t make sense. From the moment he volunteered to come to the theme park, to asking her to snuggle close to him to share his coat now. Whatever happened to the apathetic Regulus Arcturus Black?

But she knew better than to complain about it. She enjoys every passing moment of the day. Every bicker, every annoyed remark, every feigned anger. She wouldn’t wish for any other way to spend the day.

And so she snuggled closer to him, encircling her arms around his body like a koala to a tree. His body warmth was comforting, along with the smell of his perfume. Regulus put the other part of his coat around her, trying to cover her as best as he could.

“Is this okay?” He asks. She could hear his heartbeat from the close proximity.

“Yeah,” She whispers, not looking up cause she knew her cheeks must be as red as tomatoes “Is this okay for you?”

Regulus hums, resting his chin to the top of her head.

“This is nice,” She says “I might actually fall asleep on you.”

He smiles, “Just don’t drool on my shirt.”

“No promises.”

—-

Regulus couldn’t recall the last time he woke up with such a light heart. The memory from last night still intoxicates him. How they spent hours waiting for the wheel to finally turn, to get them to the ground, yet neither of them were complaining. Matter of fact, he hoped that it would’ve lasted longer. He wouldn’t mind spending forever stuck in that cabin with her.

When he came down to the dinning hall though, a frown bloomed on his face. She was absent. Her plate was empty, cup cleaned as if she hadn't even used it. Only Sirius was present with a stack of toasts on his plate.

“Where is she?” Regulus asked.

“Resting,” His brother said “Where the hell did you go last night? Why did you come back so late?”

Regulus sniffled, taking a seat and fixing himself a cup of tea, “We just hung out, went to the park in the city.”

“Why did you come back so late then? There’s not much of a ride there.”

“We got stuck on the Ferris wheel for hours.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “Why didn’t you just disapparate?”

“She wouldn’t let us use magic. I don’t know, ask her.” He said, defensive “Why is she still resting? Isn’t it late already for her?”

“She’s sick, that’s why.”

“Sick? What do you mean she’s sick?” Regulu asked, feeling guilt to seep in “She was just fine last night.”

“She caught a cold. Fever and all,” Sirius said as he put a toast in his mouth, standing to leave for his room “Next time you go out with her, tell her to bring a coat, will you?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “You think I didn’t tell her that?”

Regulus’ words were met by silence as Sirius entered his room. He begins to wonder if his banter of not giving her his coat was wrong, if their play stubborn was too far that it made her fall ill. It might just be one of those light colds, sure, but Regulus has never made anyone sick nor has he ever taken care of anyone unwell.

Should he even be taking care of her? Supposedly, yeah, seeing that he is her husband and the kind gesture she did the other week when she brought him his breakfast, but such action is strange for him. Where does he even start? How does he even do it?

—-

It was noon now and Regulus sprinted out of his room the moment he heard some noises in the kitchen. He saw Sirius left for whatever business he has so the only cause of such commotion would be her. He skipped down the stairs, feeling relieved to see her that is now enveloped under layers of blankets.

“You look awful,” He comments.

“Wow, thank you,” She retorts, sniffling “What a pleasant compliment, Regulus.”

Regulus bites down a smile, taking a seat opposite her, “Have you taken any meds?”

“Yeah, not much of a help so far, though.”

“Well, at least now you’ll remember to bring a coat whenever you go out.”

She glares at him, “You’re a prick, Regulus, do you know that?”

Regulus grins.

He watches as she fixes herself a cup of tea. One and a half teaspoon of sugar, no milk. He finds himself noting the small details of hers he didn’t know before. Like how she leans more on sweet kinds of breakfast instead of savoury ones, or how her brows are more often pinched than not whenever she’s thinking, or how the scent of rose from her was not from her perfume but her hand cream— her perfume was patchouli based.

“Do you not have any plans today?”

“No,” Regulus shakes his head “I prefer to stay in and read. I don’t normally go out.”

She hums in acknowledgement.

“Did you have plans for today?” He asked in return.

“Not really,”

Regulus nods, turning silent.

The only noise between them now was her sniffling. She taps on her cup, looking as if she has something she wanted to say but is still debating to utter it. Another thing Regulus takes note of— she fidgets quite a lot.

“Will you read for me?”

“No.” Regulus answers firmly.

“Oh come on, that’s the least you could do!” She whines “You got me sick!”

“You got sick because you’re too stubborn to listen to me.”

She huffs, “I wouldn’t be sick if you had given me your coat.”

“But then I’d get sick if I did.”

“Yes, but I’ll make you soup and read you a book, so you owe it to me.”

“You will not make me soup,” Regulus snorts, mocking “I doubt you even know how to turn on the cooker.”

Her mouth agape, offended, “That is beside the point, alright!”

“You don’t look sick enough for me to owe you a reading,” Regulus remarks, standing up from his seat “Feel better soon though. You look ghastly.”

“You—,” She said, throwing him a ball of tissue “And whose fault is that?!”

“Yours.”

“Regulus!”

Regulus chuckles, turning and heading back to his room. At least her anger is still intact. He could lose the bigger weight of guilt he’s feeling over her cold from the knowledge. Another thing to note, bring her coat for her the next time they go out.

↠ Part V

#regulus black #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #regulus black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black scenario #regulus black scenarios #regulus black imagine #regulus black imagines #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x oc

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kindlingkeen · 14 days

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I think something that annoys me the most about quite a few Joker Dies/Jason Comes Home fics is that they think that as soon as the Joker is dead, Jason will stop killing. Like, doesn't matter if he's the one to kill the Joker or not, as long as the Clown dies, that's it, problem solved, Jason can go home with no issue because obviously he has no more reason to kill!

and it always has me ???????????????? the Joker is not the reason Jason kills? the Joker dying takes out a massive threat to the citizens of Gotham and I don't doubt it would make Jason personally feel better just in general, but there are still horrible, horrible people around and doing things that Jason believes means they don't deserve to keep living? Just because the Clown's dead doesn't mean all the other issues Jason deals with as the Red Hood are going to disappear wtf

Anon, I’m so sorry it too me forever to answer this ask!! Tumblr disappeared it from my inbox after I read it initially, and then it just reappeared this morning! I hope you’re still around to see this.

That narrative has me going ???????? right along with you. I don’t understand it. I’ve thought about it a lot and the best I can come up with is that sometimes authors are more interested in telling a story about Jason reintegrating with the family than they are in being true to Jason’s character. Because when you think about everything Jason’s been through, his motivations and perspective, the choices he’s made, it’s actually really hard to make him play happy house with the bats and keep his character authentic. If you’re out there in the void reading this and feel differently, reblog or leave a comment with your thoughts, I’d really like to hear them.

As I see it, here are two pieces to your ask: 1) Joker dying. 2) Jason killing.

First, Joker. Honestly, imo, focusing on the Joker dying completely misses the point. Canonically, if Jason really wanted Joker dead above all else, he could have killed him in Lost Days. He could have shot him in the face the first time he saw him in UtRH. It’s not about Joker. It’s about Bruce. Bruce’s choices, Bruce’s actions, Bruce’s feelings (or lack thereof). Taking it one step further, I actually think that deep down there’s a part of Jason that doesn’t want the Joker dead. Because once he is, that’s it. The possibility of Bruce making things right (right in Jason’s eyes, at least) is gone forever.

Second, Jason killing. I think Jason kills because, at his core, his priority is victims. He’s willing to take that final step because he sees it as necessary for existing victims and to prevent future victims in the making. I think it’s possible to put Jay in a scenario where he chooses not to kill for other reasons. But it’s not something he’s ever going to repent for, it’s not a ‘suddenly seeing the light’ sort of situation. I think these two panels from Detective Comics #975 are a good example of that. Although I take issue with the ‘I still have enough respect for this place’ line.

So, yeah, those are some of my thoughts on Jason, the Joker, and the Red Hood’s lethality. I’m still getting the hang of these meta rambles. Hopefully that was coherent enough, lol.

Thanks so much for the ask, anon! I really enjoyed thinking this through! 💙

#keen converses #batfam thoughts #character thoughts #jason todd #red hood #the inescapable tragedy of jason and bruce #the joker is really just window dressing

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lvyu · 2 years

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candy hearts and paper flowers; dreamwastaken x reader, georgenotfound x reader, wilbur soot x reader

— synopsis: he’s decided you’re it, you’re the one he wants to spend forever with.

with dream, he knows you’re the one the morning after he’s sick and he’s recovering. he’s a big baby when he’s got a fever, acting like he’s on the verge of dying.

you’re nothing if not kind, even teasing him for his dramatics. maybe it’s because he’s sick and a little delirious, but the way you dote on him makes him melt. you’ve dropped everything for the day to make sure he’s okay and he couldn’t feel more cared for and loved.

and dream’s nothing if not a hopeless romantic.

he wants to know your ideal proposal and recreate it, nothing more, nothing less. he wants it to feel magical, straight out of a dream (in his mind he wants it be equivalent to how he feels about you— how he feels he wished you into existence, how wonderful you are).

you can probably tell when he’s about to propose, he’s a little obvious, but he can’t contain himself. he’s planned everything out and the night before he stays awake all night— he couldn’t sleep, he was too anxious. realistically, he knows you won’t say no. you love him and given your previous talks, it’s not like you’re not ready for marriage. still though, he can’t help but be nervous to ask.

he shifts to face you, and he smiles, incredibly happy. he moves closer, gently placing his hand on your cheek, careful as to not wake you, and kisses your forehead.

i love you, he thinks, and his mind wanders to the ring in his bedside drawer.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

george was never sure of marriage.

it’s not like he’s had nasty experiences with marriage in the past, but he was also never bouncing up and a down, planning out the day he’d stand at the altar with his partner.

the realization comes in tiny bursts, found in moments that are meaningless, except to him. the first time it was after seeing you with a mess on your face from the pancakes you were eating. it was still early in your relationship, that stage where you’re still a little nervous to be imperfect. you made a stupid joke, clearly embarrassed, and he remembers your laugh. a sort of laugh he’s never heard before from you, just completely unfiltered and he likes it, very much.

he remembers thinking he was an idiot after that.

“what do you think about marriage?” he asks one day. it’s late, nearly two in the morning and you’re lying in bed, on the verge of sleep.

he knows he shouldn’t ask now, and he meant to ask hours earlier, but he couldn’t muster up the courage. you groaned, pulling the sheet up to your nose.

“i dunno, it’s something, i guess— this is kind of a big topic, huh, georgie?” you slurred, scooting closer to him. “why? thinkin’ of marrying me?”

“dunno, would you say yes?” he smiled at the thought, hesitantly asking. it wouldn’t be a very coherent answer, he knew, you were too tired to give a proper answer.

“if you let me pick the venue,” you mumbled.

the joke made him laugh, and he wrapped an arm around you, allowing sleep to take him.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

the type of guy to google “cute proposal ideas” because he’s completely lost at first.

you’d be together a fair time before wilbur decided to propose to you— he’s not one to rush into things, at least not something as important as marriage.

he had to stop himself from focusing too much on the future where you say yes (to be fair, you wouldn’t say no), and force himself to focus on the present and actually asking you first.

he knows he wants to marry you, he just doesn’t really know how, hence the googling. he’s so anxious coming up with ideas— because holy shit, he’s really doing this— eventually he does decide to keep the proposal a bit more intimate and small.

(it took him so long to figure it all out though, lord.)

the morning starts out as usual, though later he says he is wants to take you out for lunch at that diner near the park you always used to walk through. so you do, and it’s nice, it brings a sense a nostalgia and fills you with warmth.

when you get home, he starts preparing dinner too, saying he wanted to try something new today. it would be suspicious, but this is wilbur, it’s something completely within his nature, if you’re being honest.

you don’t know it, but he’s been practicing the dish at his friend’s house for a while— it’s your favorite. another thing you don’t know: he has the ring in his pocket, fully prepared to get down on his knee after dinner.

he has an entire speech written out, filled with sweet memories and probably a billion reasons as to why he loves you. the man has a talent with words, you’re crying by the end of it.

the second he sees you crying, tears start forming in his eyes as well. he falls back, losing balance as you nearly fall yourself to hug him. in his right hand he’s still gripping onto the ring, his arms holding you tight. never before has he been so happy to hear the word ‘yes’ and having you in his arms is only confirmation that yes, you are his and he’s yours, and it’ll remain that way, forever he hopes.

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feverishly-kpop · 4 months

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Yunho & Ateez - Feverish & Disoriented - Part 2

“You’re feeling pretty swollen, Yunho. Are you sure you were feeling okay this morning?” Seonghwa asked, gently feeling Yunho’s lymph nodes as Yunho sat with his knees pulled into his chest on the closed toilet seat.

Yunho fought through the fog in his brain, past the unpleasant ride home with Seonghwa that sent his stomach spinning in circles, past the 15 minutes he spent woozily wandering the halls at the company trying to remember which studio they were practicing in, and even past the moments in the studio where he was shivering so violently that he couldn’t see straight.

That morning? No, he felt fine. He was sure of it. There was no sign of the fever that had left him struggling to put together a coherent thought, the dull nausea that prompted Seonghwa to urge their driver to take the curves slowly “just in case”, or the headache that he hadn’t even told his hyung about yet, knowing that Seonghwa would only worry more if he knew.

“No, I really was okay, I swear” Yunho responded as he laid his cheek on his knee. Seonghwa got the hint quickly and finished wiping his dongsaeng’s overheated face with a cleansing wipe, not wanting to put him to bed with dirty skin that would ultimately lead to a breakout and make Yunho even more miserable.

“I know you’re ready for bed” Seonghwa said softly as he applied a touch of Yunho’s moisturizer to the half of his face that wasn’t resting on his knee, wincing at how feverish he felt to the touch. “But can you lift your head for just a second so I can finish up?”

Yunho did his best to comply despite the fact that his brain felt like it had been turned to lead. Seonghwa noticed him struggling and placed a soft hand under his chin to help. “All set - let’s get you in some pjs and off to bed.”

*~*~*~*~*~

Yunho could see Seonghwa’s lips moving and could just barely hear his voice but he couldn’t actually make out a word he was saying. He stared blankly back at Seonghwa until he stopped talking, offering a sad smile before leaving momentarily and returning with a bucket that he held up before placing it at the side of Yunho’s bed. Yunho cringed inwardly knowing that it was only a matter of time before his nausea gave way but he was determined to delay the inevitable for as long as he could.

“Hyung” Yunho managed to croak out, grabbing Seonghwa’s attention. “You don’t have to stay here. You can go home. Or back to practice.” Nobody liked being sick, but Yunho hated feeling so vulnerable on top of it. The thought of being a bother made him more uncomfortable than his fever or nausea ever could.

Seonghwa sighed, taking a seat on the bed next to Yunho. “Hey, listen,” he said softly, placing a hand to Yunho’s cheek in an attempt to help him focus as he had realized almost immediately that Yunho hadn’t taken in a word he said earlier. “I’m not going anywhere. And that’s my choice, okay?”

Yunho nodded in response as his eyes drifted closed. Between Seonghwa’s cool touch and the soft lilt of his voice, Yunho couldn’t fight sleep any longer.

*~*~*~*~*~

“He’s asleep. But he’s burning, Joong.”

Yunho could hear Seonghwa’s voice outside of his bedroom door as he slowly came to.

“No, he hasn’t been sick yet but he was queasy the whole way home. I have a feeling that it’s more of a matter of ‘when’ than ‘if’ unfortunately. Poor kid…”

He tried to reach for the bucket but his arms felt weak.

“Seonghwa-hyung” he called out as loud as he could, followed by a sickly cough.

“I’ll let you know if - sorry gotta go…” Yunho heard, followed by footsteps running toward his door.

“It’s alright” Seonghwa said as he helped Yunho sit up and put the bucket in his lap as another cough escaped Yunho’s lips. “You’ll feel better if you stop fighting it and just let it happen, Yunho.”

And with that Yunho leaned over the bucket, letting out everything he had managed to eat that morning before his body decided to betray him. Seonghwa sat quietly rubbing his back, occasionally pushing his hair out of his eyes. Once Seonghwa was confident that Yunho was finished he took the bucket to the washroom and returned with a bowl of cool water and a handful of cloths.

Yunho whined at the sight. He had just managed to warm himself up enough to put a temporary stop to the incessant shivering and now his hyung was about to ruin it.

“Hyung, please, no” he said, pulling his blankets over his head petulantly. Seonghwa sighed, taking a seat at the edge of Yunho’s bed and setting a hand on his hip over his blankets.

“None of that, jagi” he replied. His heart went out to his dongsaeng, it truly did. He hated seeing Yunho so sick, but he was far too feverish to be buried under the covers like that.

Yunho peeked his eyes out in response. “I don’t want to be cold” he said with a pout. Seonghwa carefully pulled Yunho’s blankets down under his chin and placed a compress across his forehead, sending a visible chill down Yunho’s spine.

“I’m so sorry. I know it’s uncomfortable. But hyung’s got to get your fever down, jagi. I’ll do all the work, you just close your eyes and go back to sleep, okay?”

Yunho nodded as Seonghwa dabbed his cheeks and neck with another cool cloth. “I’m sorry, hyung” he added, regretting the fact that he had given Seonghwa a hard time.

“Shhh” Seonghwa replied with a soft smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Just relax.” Seonghwa nodded approvingly as Yunho closed his eyes and dozed off again.

*~*~*~*~*~

Not again.

It only took Yunho a few seconds to realize why he had woken up again.

Letting out a pained whine he struggled to his feet before stumbling out of his room. The world around him spun relentlessly as he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, guiding him to the washroom and helping him settle in front of the toilet.

He was surprised when the voice coming from behind him was not Seonghwa’s.

“Hyung’s here” Hongjoong said softly, his hand traveling up and down Yunho’s spine. “Just try to breathe through it.”

It took a few minutes of quiet encouragement for Yunho to relinquish some control and allow himself to vomit again. He was exhausted and dizzy but the nausea was too much to continue to fight back.

“He’ll be fine, Mingi,” Yunho heard Hongjoong whisper as he settled down, crossings his arms across the toilet seat and resting his head on them. “But he needs some privacy, okay?”

Yunho groaned at the sight of his best friend leaning in the doorway with a look of fright on his face.

“Mingi” Hongjoong repeated with a bit more force this time. Mingi quickly nodded, leaving Yunho with Hongjoong and closing the washroom door behind him.

“Feeling a little better after that?” Hongjoong asked, resting an hand on Yunho’s cheek. Yunho only shrugged, honestly too disoriented to know if he felt any better than he had prior to vomiting.

Just then there was a soft knock on the door followed by Yeosang entering with a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Yeo” Hongjoong said as he grabbed the bottle from him, coercing a few sips into Yunho. “I know it’s tough, Yuyu, but I don’t want you getting dehydrated on us.”

*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The members were in and out of Yunho and Yeosang’s apartment, nobody wanting to leave Yeosang alone to look after Yunho is his current condition.

Yunho vaguely remembered Jongho coming in and helping him change his shirt when his chills gave way to the suffocating discomfort of his raging temperature.

“Just calm down, hyung, I’ve got you” Jongho said gently as he pulled Yunho’s hoodie off and replaced it with a t-shirt.

He also just barely remembered Wooyoung and San unsuccessfully trying to get him to drink a cup of tea and take some fever reducers until Seonghwa came in and took over, finally opting to place the tablets on Yunho’s tongue himself before Yunho was forced to take a few sips of the now-lukewarm peppermint tea to wash them down.

*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t until around 9:00 PM that evening that Yunho woke up again with any semblance of coherence, finding Mingi curled up like a cat at the foot of his bed.

“Min” he managed to whisper, his throat uncomfortable from vomiting. Mingi slowly stirred before sitting up.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Mingi asked as he moved up toward the head of the bed, taking a seat next to Yunho and resting a hand on his forehead, finding it still warm to the touch.

Yunho evaded Mingi’s question, not wanting to admit that he was still poorly after an afternoon of doing nothing but sleeping. “What are you doing here still?”

Mingi looked surprised that Yunho would even ask such a thing. “Everybody is here. You were scaring us. Seonghwa-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung tried to send us home but nobody wanted to leave you.”

“I’m okay. You don’t need to stay here” Yunho responded, clearly distraught at the idea of inconveniencing the members and making them worry.

Mingi looked at Yunho for a moment before rolling his eyes. “You really never learn, do you? Now make some room for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

#kpop sickfic #kpop fluff #sickfic #ateez fluff #ateez sickfic #yunho sick #yunho fluff #Yunho sickfic

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Static.

Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!OC x F. Reader.

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Non/Con, Use of Sedatives/Paralytics, Prolonged Imprisonment, Mentions of Kidnapping, Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior.

The first thought you managed to put together after waking up in a room you didn’t remember falling asleep in, the back of your head throbbing and your mouth dry as bone, was ‘fuck’.

The second, coming a few seconds later when you recognized the bitter taste spread over your tongue, was that you would never drink anything Malcom gave you again.

For a few seconds, it was all you could do to blink, to press your tongue into the roof of your mouth, your mind still lapsing behind your body. Eventually, you were able to let your head lull to the side, to acknowledge the space around you as something other than a vaguely pink mix of blurred light and confusion, but even then, it didn’t make much sense. Red walls sprouted from carpeting as black as void, and furniture was limited to the bare essentials: the bed you were lying on, a standing wardrobe pushed against the furthest wall, a considerably tall stack of those old-fashioned, box-shaped T.V. monitors – every screen switched to buzzing static. You were thankful, despite the dim, reddish-grey it bathed the room in. You’d found one of his poorly hidden cameras in your shower stall a few weeks ago, and you didn’t want to know where else he was able to spy on you.

You felt something strange brush against the side of your knee, then your thigh. Blearily, you turned towards the source of the sensation and immediately found Malcom, wearing a sheepish smile, kneeling between your open legs. “Good morning, love,” he mumbled, a little less apologetic than he should’ve been. “I… uh, I didn’t think you’d wake up so quickly. I’ll have to get find another sedative – you might be starting to get used to this one.”

He sighed, his smiling taking on a swooning drawl. Leaning forward, he took a moment to stare down at you before letting his lips ghost over the corner of your jaw, then the curve of your collarbone, trailing hasty kisses over your chest, your midriff. He only stopped to laugh – the noise light, delicate, as painful to listen to as nails on a chalkboard or windchimes, half-melted and crudely beaten back into their proper shape. “I’m not mad, though! If I had my way, you’d always be awake when we spend time together, but you can just be so fussy, sometimes. I’m not sure if you remember, but last time I had a chance to actually ask you for a kiss, you called me a ‘pathetic kidnapper’ and tried wrap your hands around my neck, and I really didn’t—”

“Shut… up,” you managed, eventually. It still caught you off-guard just how much he could talk, sometimes, just how often he seemed to fall into mumbled, half-coherent tangents. You’d gotten lucky, if anything. He was usually harder to cut off, or more willing to stuff something in your mouth the first time you tried to. “Why are— Get off of me, I can’t—”

“Move?” He paused, laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t mind taking care of you, just this once.”

Of course. You weren’t sure why you’d expected anything else.

He’d clearly stopped listening to you, but to be fair, there was a good chance he never had been.

At least you were still wearing what you had been when you’d passed out – or, most of what you’d been wearing, at least. Your shorts were gone, but he’d let you keep the loose, ill-fitting shirt you’d found below the piles of lingerie he’d stocked your closet with. Even that was a temporary comfort, though, one you knew he wouldn’t let you hold onto for very long. His hands were already slipping under the thin fabric, following the curve of your waist. Your fingers twitched, and you tried to lift your arms, to shove him away, but it was all you could do to ball his satin sheets in your fists, to grimace as material pooled above your chest. Carefully, with a painstaking kind of gentleness, he pulled your shirt up and over your head, chuckling softly at your failure to resist. Your bra was next, discarded with little more than a slight hum and a lingering kiss pressed into the valley between your breasts. He must've been in a romantic mood. He wouldn’t try to make himself seem so doting, if he wasn't.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it when you’re feisty. It’s just nice to be able to spend some quality time together without having to worry about ropes or handcuffs or the knife you’ve been keeping under your pillow, recently.” You cursed under your breath. He wasn’t supposed to know about that yet. “It’ll be like we’re kids again! You know, before it took a mug full of extra-strength barbiturates just for us to have a decent conversation.”

His tone was light-hearted, teasing, but the mocking lilt in his voice made something in your jaw begin to ache. The version of Malcom that loomed above you right now was nothing like the shy kid you’d known, and even if he had been, the three or four conversations you’d had with him two decades ago wouldn’t have justified what he’d done to you, how easily he’d come to terms with the idea of paying his family’s security detail to drag you to some dark, damp hidden bunker buried in the middle of god-knows-where and locked from the inside. You opened your mouth, but once again, your protests were drowned out as his lips slotted gently against yours, swallowing down any complaints you might’ve been able to spit out. When he pulled away, he was still smiling. You doubted he’d stop before he got what he wanted.

“I know, I know, I’m talking too much.” He shook his head. With a slight squeeze to your waist, he straightened his back, pulling away and kneeling between your legs. “I can’t help it. You’re just so beautiful, and you make me so happy, I feel like I have to—” He cut himself off quickly, too still lucid to say anything that'd scare you. His grin pressed into the inside of your thigh, and if he noticed your weak attempts to shake him off, he was too lovesick to care. “All I ever think about is you. It feels like I have to say it as much as I can or I might, I don’t know... rot from the inside out?”

With an airy sigh, he bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the junctions between your thigh and your hip. For a moment, you were just thankful he’d stopped talking.

Then, his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, and you could only curse yourself for forgetting that there were worse things than his inane rambling.

This part, he seemed content to draw out. He picked out everything you wore, leaving lingerie sets and the fur-trimmed robes for you to find every time he came back to the bunker, and yet, Malcom still felt the need to smile down at you, to run the pad over his thumb over your silk-clothed slit with an almost giddy chuckle. He seemed to like you dressed up – smothered in lace and velvet, forced into panties with white bows stitched to the front and button-ups that hung off of your shoulders and tended to disappear when worn too frequently. All expensive things, fine things. All things he’d wear, because if there was one thing you knew about Malcom, it was that he couldn’t imagine a world where you wouldn’t want to share everything with him.

Surprisingly, he didn’t bother taking your panties off. Instead, they were only pulled to the side, obscured just enough to let him drag the flat of his tongue over your slit, the bridge of his nose nudging clumsily against your clit. Letting your head lull back and your eyes fall shut, you tried to let the sensation roll over you, to put yourself at a distance from the man between your thighs and the feeling of his tongue drawing circles into your cunt. This wasn’t new, as much as you wished you could still be disgusted by the lengths he was willing to go to in his attempts to force his twisted affection onto you. You couldn’t count how many times you’d woken up sore and disoriented, carefully tucked into your own bed when you could only vaguely remember falling asleep in the bunker’s cramped living space. You had bleary, fogged-over memories of Malcom’s chest pressed against your back, his teeth at your throat, drooling and snarling like some awful, distorted beast, but it was easier to take when you could write off your drug-addled encounters as half-forgotten nightmares, things that couldn’t have really happened because if they did, you would have remembered them, and you refused to remember those little slivers of carnality that laced your every waking thought.

This was obviously harder to deny. You could pretend that it wasn’t real, that the strange hollowness in your chest and the way your fingertips seemed to pulse meant you were still on some level of unreality and you’d wake up any moment, dizzy and gasping for air, but that wouldn’t get rid of the hands on your hips, the lips now sealed around your clit, sucking gently. Even if this was just a nightmare, it was a nightmare you seemed to be trapped in, a nightmare you couldn’t shake off just by biting the inside of your cheek and willing it away. If you’d ever been able to get rid of Malcom that easily, you never would’ve ended up in his bunker to begin with, never would’ve ended up in his bed, underneath him, choking on a cracked moan because you’d rather die than give him a reason to dig himself further into his delusions than he already had. You never would’ve ended up here if there’d been a way out at all.

His tongue thrust into your cunt, and in a matter of seconds, you were too busy trying to keep your hips from bucking into his mouth to hate yourself for letting him get so close to you. It was unfair – you were numb, paralyzed, barely able to feel his nails digging into your waist, and yet, every little thing he did to you felt so much worse than it should’ve, so much more intense. Pure heat rolled over you in waves, something hot and viscous settling in the pit of your stomach as spots of wavering darkness began to gather around the edges of your vision. Your reactions were muted, subtle – all twitching thighs and nails burrowed into palms – but Malcom seemed to drink it in regardless, moaning unabashedly into your cunt as he fucked you open with his tongue. He dragged you downward, towards him, and your self-restraint faltered, a stifled whine slipping past your lips, your body going rigid as you clamped down around his tongue.

It was agonizing, tense and slow and unbearable, but Malcom was either too oblivious or too cruel not to draw your climax out, not to keep going until the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in and you found the strength to lift your arm, to tangle your fingers in his hair and shove him away from you. Even then, he only fell downward, his mouth latching onto the inside of your thigh to suck harsh, pulsing bruises into your skin. You didn’t try to stop him. If he was distracted, you’d have a few seconds to catch your breath, and a couple hickeys were a small price to pay for the only moment of peace you’d get until he was finished for you.

Eventually, he seemed to snap out of it, straightening his back and moving to your neck. “You’re just so—” He spoke hastily, whenever there was enough room between his mouth and your skin to do so, barely managing to spit out whatever he had to say before diving back in to nip at your throat. “It’s torture when you’re gone. I don’t know why I thought I could ever live without you.”

His teeth found the tender spot along the curve of your neck, just above your jugular. Before you could brace yourself, before you could shove him away, he bit down.

For the first time, you were grateful for the paralysis, the numbness. If you’d been able to feel anything, really feel anything, you might’ve screamed.

He pulled away quickly, but the damage was already done. You felt a thin trail of warm, thick blood run down your neck, dripping onto the sheets below, only interrupted by Malcom’s tongue, running over your torn skin with a throaty groan. Something cold and biting ran down the length of your spine, revulsion in its purest form, but if Malcom noticed how you tensed up underneath him, the way you shrunk into yourself a little further with every sound he made, it wasn’t enough to stop him. He only drew back, pulling you into a shallow, one-sided kiss before sitting up, cupping your cheeks. “Sometimes, I think about cutting open your skin and crawling under it,” he admitted, letting out an airy laugh. Silver, bleach-damaged bangs fell over his eyes, but that did little to make his gaze any less prying. “That way, we’d never have to spend a minute apart ever again.”

Somehow, you didn’t find the idea as appealing as he seemed to.

But your distaste didn’t matter to Malcom. He was already distracted, undoing the belt of his velour robe with one hand while the other pulled at the fabric over his chest, trying to rid himself of what little he was wearing as quickly and as desperately as possible. It was a feeble effort, clumsy and awkward, as weak as it was hopeless, but you attempted to push yourself up, to drag yourself towards the side of his bed. All Malcom had to do was press his palm into your shoulder, force your cheek against the mattress with all the strength it would’ve taken to subdue a half-dead insect, or a rabbit that’d already gotten its leg caught in a snare. In a few seconds, you were pinned underneath him, your chest pressed into his sheets and your legs folded underneath you. There was another soft laugh, another kiss pushed into the nape of your neck, but it did little to distract you from the feeling of his cock tracing over your slit, gathering your slick. “It’s good to see you so eager,” Malcom chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your back. “And to think I was worried that you might not enjoy yourself.”

You bared your teeth, nearly snarling. “Don’t fucking touch—”

Without warning, he thrust into you, and your voice gave out in an instant.

It felt wrong. That was your first thought as he started to move, rolling his hips against your ass. It was too slow, too delicate to be anything Malcom was capable of. You felt his hands spread over your lower back, his lips ghost over your skin, but all of it was so far away, blunted by shock and pushed to a distance by your own unwillingness to believe it could be happening at all. You knew that he was experienced – you’d wasted more time reading about him in cheap, provocative tabloids than you ever could’ve spent talking to him in-person – but it was hard to believe that after everything he’d put you through, hard to associate the shy boy you’d known or the picture-perfect playboy son of your country's wealthiest family with the obsessive kidnapper who'd taken you away, with the delusional monster who liked to steal laundry and watch you change through grainy security cameras. With the man above you now, too selfish to do so much as stop talking while he fucked you.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes until your vision blurred, until you heard a slight coo and Malcom reached down, swiping the pad of his thumb swipe across your cheek before bringing it to his lips and letting out a soft grunt. “You were always so sweet,” he muttered, only half-audible. “Even sweeter, now that you’re all mine.”

You opened your mouth, attempting to protest, to curse him out, but all that made it past your lips was a long, wordless whine – trembling and uneven. Despite everything, that seemed to snap him out of his daze, if only enough to grin, to fall into a real pace, just steady enough to give your poor, overstimulated cunt some relief. His voice was just a little stronger too, as he went on, even if his tone was still soft, dream-like. You doubted he’d give up on that anytime soon. He seemed to think he could convince you that he was anything but a deranged stalker if he just treated you with enough care, and you didn’t know if there was anything you could do that’d make him show his true colors. As if that’d be any better. “I know this isn’t the best time, but… have you ever thought about kids, love?”

Unable to speak, you shook your head frantically, making another weak effort to push yourself up. Malcom only laughed, thrusting sharply and reducing you back into a sobbing, crumbling heap of yourself. “Right. It’s probably too soon to talk about something like that, but…” He trailed off, shook his head. “I want a bigger family – have I ever told you that? I just— We spent so much time apart, and really think you'd be—”

His voice hitched. You felt him twitch inside of you, and he threw his head forward, let out a gasping breath. “I think it’d be sweet, if we had a little family,” he admitted, seeming to overlook the way you started to tremble in response. “Then, you wouldn’t be able to get so stubborn about loving me back.”

His nails dug into your sides, his chest coming to press into your back. He held you like that for a second, motionless and panting shallowly, then without warning, he pulled out, releasing you completely, letting you collapse onto the mattress without the aid of his support. You tried to take a deep breath, a subdued sort of disappointment filling the empty space he’d left inside of you, but you only had so long to let yourself be so weak. He was already taking you by the sides, already turning you onto your back, thrusting back into you with only an apologetic smile and a certain lust-filled glaze cast over his eyes. It was almost sweet. If he’d been anyone else, if you’d been in any other situation, you might’ve mistaken his obsession for affection. Might’ve.

His gentle façade waned, and before you could brace yourself, his hands fell to your thighs, hauling your legs upward until your knees pressed into your chest and your ankles rested on his shoulders. Instantly, you regretted any ever feeling disappointed, ever doing anything but wishing he was as far from you as possible. He’d been able to fill your pussy before, but now, it felt like he was bottoming out with every stroke, trying to fuck your cervix rather than your pussy. It was all you could do to let your head roll back, your eyes falling to the ceiling when you couldn't stand to look at Malcom – panting, moaning, red-soaked Malcom – for another second. It didn’t hurt, but you wished it would, that he’d dig his nails into your chest and start to tear. At least then, you wouldn’t have to feel so conflicted.

“God, you— you’re so pretty, and so soft, and—” You could hear his skin crashing into yours, feel the strain in your hips as he leaned into you. Blue eyes burnt into your skin, but the sensation that followed was chilled, cold enough to leave you shaking beneath him. He didn’t seem to notice. You doubted he’d want to, if he could.

“I love you,” and then, again, “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you—”

There was a hitched moan, cut off by his bruised lips crashing into yours. You felt his pace falter, and without so much as a cursory to pull out, he came inside of you – filling your cunt until something warm and awful began to stain your thighs. You weren’t far behind him. Your back arched off the mattress, your visioning burning pure white. It would’ve been useless to try to hide your reaction, so you didn’t, mewling unabashedly as he began to slow, to pull away from you, to finally pull out. It was too late, obviously. The damage was done, but still, you were thankful for the distance.

You didn’t bother trying to leave. You just lied there, motionless and silent as Malcom pulled himself to your side. He fell next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and drawing you into his chest, nuzzling into you despite your daze. He must’ve been used to this. Even as you were now, limp and unresponsive, you were more conscious than you'd probably ever been with him, before.

It was soft, saccharine, laced with the kind of curling affection that still made you sick, even after months of reluctant exposure. “You love me too, right?”

You didn’t respond, but he hummed as if you had, kissing the dip above your collarbone. Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away.

It wasn't like it would've made a difference, even if you'd still had the strength to.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yanderecore #yancore #yandere commission #commission

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sunnynwanda · 1 year

Text

Wedding date: Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

As Hero waltzes towards them, Villain takes the few seconds to collect themselves and form one coherent thought. Yet all they can muster is the dumbest question in existence.

“Where did you go off to?” they regret asking this the moment the question rolls off their lips. Shit.

“Why, miss me already?” Hero’s grin looks like it should hurt their cheeks.

“Oh shut up,” Villain says over their glass. Their rival seems to hesitate for a moment before speaking. If Villain didn’t know better, they’d say Hero is skittish. You wish they were, Villain’s inner voice chimes in, uncalled for.

“I might if you dance with me,” Hero mumbles, a part of them hoping Villain won’t hear them over the music. The other part is begging for them to catch on. Why is the final step so hard?

The invitation registers in Villain’s brain with a delay, making Hero twists their fingers and Villain themselves choke on their wine, coughing violently as they attempt to speak. “I.. what?”

“Me. You. Dance.” Hero explains, shifting from one foot to another. Their entire frame looks ready to shrink into nothingness to avoid Villain’s curious gaze. “That’s what couples usually do, isn’t it?”

“We’re not a couple,” Villain starts but is interrupted as usual. They should have picked someone less impatient and less adorable. For the sake of their sanity.

“Right now we are,” Hero’s confidence seems to be back with renewed vigour when Villain stands up. Hero places their hand on the small of their enemy's back, leading them to the dancefloor. Villain’s head is empty for a good minute as they process the heat of Hero’s body against theirs. They don’t have to stand this close, yet they make no attempts to keep their distance.

“Tough conversation with Supervillain?” Hero fails to mask their curiosity, speaking in a soft voice as they lead. “Sorry, with your grandmother.”

“Ah. Not really, no,” Villain beams at them, grateful for the distraction from the proximity of their rival. Their eyes are so bright Hero has to bite down an ‘Aw’. “It was pretty nice.”

“See?” Hero almost giggles and considers vanishing from the face of the Earth for good. “Told ya she likes me.”

The cocky tone makes Villain chuckle lightly. They shake their head as Hero spins them around the dancefloor. The stares soon get the best of them, making Villain stumble over their feet and Hero’s grip around their waist - tighten. Why is there no air in this godforsaken place?

“You’re... graceful,” Villain states the obvious, earning a pointed look from their partner.

“Huh. And to think you would have noticed that during our fights,” Hero teases, amusement filling their voice like warm honey. “Don’t you pay attention to me?”

“Hey, I do,” Villain resists loudly before a sudden idea comes crashing through the train of their thought. “Wait a minute. Are you flirting with me?”

Hero nods way too quickly. They freeze, breath hitching in their throat. Too late to back down. “Have been for the past several months, actually.”

“I... did not have that information,” is all Villain manages to squeeze out before their brain short-circuits. Hero laughs at that, bending their partner back dramatically. Some of the guests applaud, enjoying the show. Villain couldn’t care less.

“Now you do. What are you gonna do about it?” Hero asks in a small voice. They’re breathless, but the dance has nothing to do with it. The room is spinning at a ferocious speed. They should probably stop moving.

Villain takes their time processing the question, no longer oblivious to their rival’s state. “What can I do about it?”

“Well, there are two options,” Hero claims with the most serious expression on their pale face.

“Do elaborate on them,” Villain requests as Hero comes to a halt, letting go of their waist.

“Let me remain your fake date for the rest of the evening, then go back to being enemies in the morning,” Villain hums, but before they can reply, Hero continues with the second option. “Or, leave the party and enjoy my company for the rest of the night and, preferably, the entire weekend.”

Villain takes Hero’s hand, guiding them to a secluded area behind a column. Hero leans against it, their breathing is laboured as they speak. “Don’t get me wrong, both include making out, but I’d much rather you pick the second path, so I can have a chance to properly take you out.”

“What does the choice depend on, again?” Villain takes a step closer, enjoying every second of Hero's agony. They look ravishing in the bluish light, and Villain wonders how they’d look on a rooftop under the night sky with their lips swollen from rough kisses.

“Whether you like me back or not,” Hero toils through the sentence, unable to meet their eyes. Villain closes the remaining distance between them, cupping their cheeks and covering Hero’s lips with their own.

Hero all but dies on the spot. Their heart hurts in their chest, threatening to crack open. Dear God. They don’t realise when or how their hand moves to grab the back of Villain’s neck.

“Hero?” Villain is panting and blushing furiously, but that fades in comparison to the deep shade of red on Hero’s cheeks. Hero finds themselves unable to speak, opting for a weak nod. And to think they were the one flirting. Damn, Villain.

“Take me away from here.” Villain smirks, satisfied with the effect they have on their 'fake' date.

It takes Hero exactly 49 seconds to regain their composure, lace their fingers with Villain’s and drag them away with the silliest smile ever.

Mission Report #1963 Agent: Hero Mission: Accomplished P.S. Thank you, Supervillain.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

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siriusly-addicted-to-writing · 3 months

Text

[Y/N] Picks…

Pairing: [Y/N] x Sirius & [Y/N] x James (@ different times)

Summary: [Y/N] needs to decide between James & Sirius, but she doesn’t know who to pick.

Warning(s): cussing, sexual implications, make-out (kinda detailed but nothing too crazy), unedited,

A/N: hey everyone. wow, i didn’t expect to ever be back honestly… but here I am. i’m going to be upfront and tell you that this will be ROUGH because i haven’t written anything from this world in almost two years. i also wanted to try something a little different, so it’s a chose your own adventure. at the end, you’re able to pick where you want your path and it will take you right there! anyway, i hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

——————

Of course, [Y/N] didn’t expect to fall in love with two guys. Nor did she expect them to fall in love with her. Stuff like this isn’t planned. It just happens.

First, there was Sirius. Yes, Sirius Black. The boy of about everyone’s dreams. From his charisma to his style, there was nothing to hate. Well, besides one, minor detail.

He was a player.

Simple as that. Sirius Black was a player. He talked to the most girls, or well, that’s what everyone thought. The people who actually knew him, knew differently. If you asked someone who actually knew him, they’d tell you that he didn’t like most of the girls in his year… besides roughly three. Those were the ones he talked to.

Although, if you continued asking questions, you’d find out about the older girls. Of course Sirius Black was a sucker for older girls, especially the ones in the year above him. It always started with a conversation, but with Sirius, it was never just a conversation. When given the chance, he would make sure to give them a good time.

So when [Y/N] started catching feelings for him, she knew it wasn’t going to be good.

And, well, it wasn't.

-------------

One year ago...

-------------

The moment [Y/N] caught feelings for Sirius, it was like a blow to the chest. The whole world around her was quaking. It had to have been the fact they were in the same house. It had to be.

The days when she would get up in the morning on Saturdays and he would tell her how great she looked in those jeans or that shirt. She knew it was just him being friendly, because how many girls has he said that to? …but she couldn't help the butterflies in her chest.

It wasn't just that; it was also the fact that he would talk to her the most, and even though she was awkward with almost everyone. He could get her to have coherent sentences come out of her mouth. And damn she was thankful.

[Y/N] saw a side of Sirius he didn’t let that many other people see, or at least that’s what she thought. She isn't sure who saw this side of him, but she hoped it was just her.

In the beginning, liking Sirius wasn’t that bad. No, it was actually pretty great. Nothing changed. Their friendship was as strong as ever.

But then a few months past.

[Y/N] had liked Sirius for FOUR months now, and he didn't show any interest. There was nothing concrete that convinced her that he had feelings. It didn’t help that all of her friends said the feelings were mutual. [Y/N] didn't want to get her hopes up, so she said it was just him being nice and as friends. Although, she couldn’t help the desire in her heart that her friends were right.

But then summer came, and the perfect opportunity for her to get rid of her feelings for him. Being a half-blood was a good thing. She could see muggle guys, and maybe move on from her five month crush.

Her goodbye was bitter sweet, but it was good. It was healthy.

What wasn’t good, however, was the fact that Sirius would send her messages by owl constantly. [Y/N] would stop whatever she was doing and immediately read and respond to the letters. It was fine until the owls started arriving hourly. Hourly.

Now, hourly wasn’t a bad thing, but it did make things a little more complicated. How was she supposed to get over Sirius now?

-------------

Two months later

-------------

Summer went by quickly for [Y/N]. Between hanging out with her muggle friends, including a few cute guys, and writing to Sirius, the time flew by. Although it meant saying goodbye to her friends and family, she couldn’t wait to get back to Hogwarts to start her 5th year .

Something felt different in the letters Sirius had written. There was a shift sometime in the middle of July. The letters started to feel fueled with longing. He would tell her how he missed her: her smile, her laugh, her presence. The last letter he wrote to her was to tell her he couldn’t wait to see her.

Now, [Y/N] wouldn’t lie to herself, she did have a little fun over her summer break. There were a few wild nights that ended in kisses under the stars, but nothing too far. She didn’t doubt that Sirius had some fun too, but despite with being with other people, she felt like her and Sirius were going to go somewhere this year.

Once [Y/N] got back to Hogwarts, everything would be as it should be. Her and Sirius would finally get together, and this would be her year to shine.

Except, there was one minor problem she didn’t bother to take into account.

Head in clouds, beyond excited, [Y/N] walked onto the train looking for Sirius. Maybe he had a spot saved for her, or maybe he was looking for her. Her eyes scanned the cabins, but as she got closer to the end, her heart stopped as she narrowed in on a cabin to her left.

There he was, in the arms of another girl.

It’s not like [Y/N] hadn’t seen it before. She had. Many times, but it was different this time.

Sirius’ eyes devoured the girl in front of him. He wanted her, all of her. With a flick of his wand [Y/N] heard the compartment lock and the blinds went down.

[Y/N] blinked.

She heard nothing as she walked away, with only the ringing in her ears to remind her it was real. That, yes, she just saw that. She was only vaguely aware that a strong arm reached out and pulled her into a cabin. She was only vaguely aware that the boy held her in his arms, rocking her back and forth the whole way to Hogwarts. She was only vaguely aware that he whispered in her ear that ‘it’s going to be okay’, over and over again.

[Y/N] blinked.

Her ears stopped ringing to allow her to hear this whispered phrase again.

“It’s going to be okay, [Y/N],” the voice said. [Y/N] thought to herself for a second before deciding that, yeah, it was going to be okay. Her eye’s focused on the male who held her in his arms.

James Potter.

Of course. She smiled at him before drifting off to sleep.

-------------

One month later

-------------

“James, stop it right now, or I’ll…” [Y/N] started. James was currently sitting on the couch next to her in the common room clicking his wand on the table. [Y/N] sat down about an hour ago to start her potions homework. James quickly sat down next to her to get a head start on his too. The first half an hour was entirely productive… that was until James started getting too distracted to focus.

“Or you’ll what?” James countered, wiggling his eyebrows at [Y/N]. [Y/N] scoffed and rolled her eyes.

James and [Y/N] have always been friends. They’ve always been study buddies, but they didn’t do much other than that. They hung out with their mutual friends during their fourth year, but James had been actively pursuing a girl named Lily and [Y/N] was crushing on Sirius. Although, James decided to give up on Lily over the summer and move on (like [Y/N] should have), and saw [Y/N]’s face when she saw Sirius.

Later that day, when James and [Y/N] were sitting in the common room, Sirius walked in announced his new girlfriend. [Y/N] almost threw up, but James’ firm hand on her knee kept her grounded. Sirius’ eyes drifted to [Y/N], then to James’ hand and his smile faltered.

For less than a second.

If [Y/N] hadn’t been so caught up in her despair, she might have caught it.

But James did, and he took care of [Y/N] from moment day on. The first few days were rough. [Y/N]’s heart was breaking all at once and it hurt. But as time went on, it got easier.

Over the next month, her and James became inseparable. They did everything together, from eating, to studying, to sneaking out to stargaze. They were each other’s partner in crime.

Although, Sirius was still there. He’d distanced himself (having a girlfriend and all), but he was still friendly to [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s pain settled into a dull ache after awhile. He’d smile at her every now and then causing that dormant pain to spark through her, but she was okay. James helped numb the pain too.

It was easy to see that James and [Y/N] had feelings for each other. Everyone could see it, but neither of them admitted it. Whether it was too soon, or they were scared, nothing happened between them.

Well…

“Oh never mind, just shut up,” [Y/N]’s face blazed pink as she buried her face back into her homework. Beside her, James fell quiet. She did dare glance at him because what she wanted to say was written clearly in her eyes.

“You better tell me,” James started. [Y/N] tilted her head to look at his face. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Or I’ll…” he continued.

“Or you’ll what?” [Y/N] said, fully facing him. James leaned toward her and nudged her chin with his thumb.

“Or I’ll kiss you,” James said, not waiting for a reply as he leaned in the whole way. [Y/N] had just enough time to close her eyes before his lips were on hers. Her hands reached up to grab his head, pulling him closer, to deepen the kiss. A surprised grunt escape James’ mouth before he reached over to reposition [Y/N] on his lap.

Now that she was straddling him, she kept his face close to hers. Nothing had felt this good in awhile. She could get lost in his kiss. She felt secure in his strong arms; it felt safe.

Seconds, minutes, or hours could’ve gone by, James sure didn’t know. He was too lost in completely devouring the girl he had sitting on his lap. That was until he heard a clunk.

Frightened, [Y/N] pulled away and looked over her shoulder to see a shocked Sirius. Sirius stared a second too long before bending over to pick up the book he dropped. When he stood up, he did not make eye contact with James or [Y/N] before walking up the stairs to his dormitory.

“Well, that was... wow,” James said, causing [Y/N] to regain attention on James. When she looked at him, his hair was a complete disaster, and not to mention his swollen lips. She smiled, thinking she probably looked just as ridiculous.

“Yeah,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, “it was”. James smiled at her before turning back to his homework.

“Now, what potion were we working on?” James asked as [Y/N] shifted off if his lap to sit next to him. She smiled at him as he started to flip through the pages of his textbook.

‘I’m happy. This is what I want. James likes me,’ she told herself. Although, that dull ache returned, bringing Sirius’ shocked face right along with it.

-------------

Present day

-------------

James and [Y/N] started dating a few days after that. He brought her a bouquet of roses and turned them from white to her favorite color. He presented them to her after a big quidditch match. She blushed profusely, and said yes in front of the whole party. She didn’t fail to note that Sirius left with his girlfriend shortly after.

James and [Y/N] fit together perfectly. They never argued, supported each other, and were best friends. It was safe.

Safe was the right word to describe it. What James and [Y/N] had was safe. There would be no heartbreak because they both knew they loved someone a little more, not that they would ever admit it. They would never call each other out on those one second too long glances, or those wandering eyes in the common room.

[Y/N] saw a future with James. She truly did. It was a simple one, but perfect nonetheless. They would live in a small cottage right outside of London with their two boys. It was perfect and happy future. She loved James a lot, and she knew he loved her.

And she knew they would grow to love each other completely. It would just take time.

Honestly, everything was entirely uncomplicated.

Until…

-------------

Later that night

-------------

[Y/N] and James were eating dinner in the great hall. It was James’ favorite meal, and [Y/N] rolled her eyes as he was literally stuffing food into his mouth.

“You know, this isn’t a race. The food won’t get up and run away from you,” [Y/N] said, nudging James in the shoulder. James turned his head and you barely caught the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, you know [Y/N], this is a school of witchcraft and wizardry. You actually never know when the food will get up and run away from you…” and with a flick of his wand the food started running all over the table. She laughed as the chicken sprinted through your potatoes, only to be silenced by a single look from one of your professors.

“JAMES POTTER,” a loud voice bellowed across the hall. James flicked his wand again to stop the running food; the chicken landed in the pudding. James turned and winked at [Y/N] before getting up and walking over to the voice. She blew him a kiss and watched him go.

She smiled as he reached out for the kiss and smacked it right in his cheek. Her stomach swarmed with butterflies.

She talked for awhile more before grabbing a cupcake and heading back to her room.

As she left, she didn’t notice that Sirius walked out the door moments before her. She definitely didn’t notice that he walked into a broom closet near her house.

Although, she did notice when a strong arm reached out and pulled her in said broom closet.

“What the hell?” [Y/N] yelled before a hand clasped over her mouth as she dropped her cupcake. She jumped back in surprise when her eyes landed on her captor face.

Sirius’ face.

“Please, let me talk first before you say anything,” Sirius said, slowly removing his hand from [Y/N]’s mouth. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. Sirius paused a moment before continuing. “[Y/N] what happened to us? I thought we had something going on over the summer, and then I see you in James’ arms on the way to Hogwarts and I…”

“Let me stop you right there. Are you trying to pin this on me? YOU were the one who was making out with another girl on the train. James found me after I saw,” [Y/N] said, interrupting him. For the first time, thinking of that memory didn’t bring pain, it brought anger instead.

“What? No.. I didn’t.. we didn’t…” Sirius started, but couldn’t form a sentence.

“You can try to deny it all you want, but I know what I saw,” [Y/N] said. “You know what else Sirius? I loved you. I wanted nothing more than to be with you. You crushed me when I saw you on the bus, and you crushed me again when you announced you were dating her. I don’t know where this conversation is going, but we have both moved on Sirius. I’m with James and you’re with…”

“No, I’m not with her. We broke up weeks ago. I broke up with her because I wanted to be with you. I only started dating her to make you jealous. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one making me jealous,” he glanced at [Y/N]. She had nothing to say, she was just watching him. Sirius continued, “[Y/N], I love you. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’ve loved you for awhile now. I’m sorry I’ve been such a fool and made a huge mess of things. I should have never done anything to hurt you. Damnit, I want a second chance [Y/N]. Please, give me a second chance.”

He took a step closer, and leaned forward…

Time seemed to stop for [Y/N]. She didn’t expect to fall in love with two guys. Nor did she expect them to fall in love with her. Stuff like this isn’t planned. It just happens.

There was Sirius, her first love. The boy who had her heart from the beginning, but then broke it into two.

Then there was James. The boy who picked up those two pieces and made them whole again.

But the more she thought about it, the answer was right in front of her.

Of course, the person she belonged with was…

James

Sirius

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oddballwriter · 4 months

Text

Werewolf! Moon Boys NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: Okay so now I'm really feeding the monster fuckers so watch out for mentions of knotting, heat, and animalistic sex, and size differences.

Author’s Snip: Time to really let my monster fucker hair down lol

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Marc Spector

Marc isn't against having sex when he's turned. I'm sure he's spent a few moments the morning after a full moon think about it. But he's scared that he might hurt you in the process

Because he's aware that he's bigger than his normal size, in both ways, so he doesn't know if maybe he'll be too big for you to take

Also, he might hurt you because he thinks that while in the moment he'll get to hyped up and he thinks that he might start doing the thing where dogs get really rough when their playing with something and that scares him

You honestly have to look at him and say that you're willing to take the risk for the sake of getting to smash

Okay but hear me out, what do you bitches know about heats and knotting (yeah we're letting the monster fucker freak flag fly today babes)

I don't think that Marc thinks that his dick is able to knot. He knows what it is, but he just doesn't make that connection in his mind that his penis can also knot similar to a wolf

Man has just never fully thought about it he's too busy being angsty and ashamed of being a werewolf. So when you finally get to fuck and he wakes up the next morning with himself still inside you he's like "Holy shit I actually can."

Sex is as animalistic and good as you think it is, and you will never complain. That thang does fucking WORK in there. It's hitting everything and then some

Marc worries about exhausting you when heat comes along but I mean... You're getting a huge dicking for like god knows how long every night

And the growling and snarling, and panting... bitch imagine

Steven Grant

Steven, bless his heart, was aware that having sex while in werewolf form might be something that would take a lot out of you, and at first refused the idea of doing it because he didn't want to hurt you or god forbid break something

But he's just a man, and he has a man's brain, and he can be a completely different size than you are. So at some point, he bites.

Steven insists that you do a safe signal and they he will try to stay coherent when in werewolf state so that he can notice it

But he finds out that you never use it

He was aware of the knotting and he was worried that it might hurt you, but you said it was fine and so he just, lets it happen

Afterwards he licks your face to give it kisses like how a dog would

Maybe clean you up like that too *cough cough*

The heat though, he genuinely wants you to stay away because he doesn't want to have you send all your energy just being his chew toy. Even if you insist that you're into that

He does hold himself back because he is still worried about hurting you though

Jake Lockley

Oh, he's thought about it. A lot. The whole thing

But he never mentioned it until you started showing interest in it because he didn't want to scare you or accidentally force you into it/make you feel like you have to

But upon hearing you suggest it he's on board. Bestie, he was already on the boat. Made the boat to sail, even.

He asks if you want him to hold back or go all out, and once you give your response he's like "Say less ;)"

I mentioned in the sfw version that Jake is mostly the one fronting during the transformation of both turning into a werewolf and changing back and probably just is the one fronting when they are a werewolf, so Jake has been able to be more conscious when in their state rather than being more animal like

So he's there when you're having sex, but he lets some of those instincts take control because he knows that's what you want

Also, he isn't afraid of heats either

Listen, he knows what the fuck you're here for. He's not going to be like Steven and Marc where they're scared and ashamed of having this part of them and the things they might do during sex and heats. He's not going to act like you aren't here for that shit.

Jake knows that you're down for getting split tf open and being it nonstop when they go into heat

Jake's nasty, you're nasty, you guys can get nasty together

Side note. All three of them are secretly into when you call them "good boy" in bed both when in their werewolf state and out of it, and sometimes as a kinky treat you can call them a "bad boy/dog" too

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #werewolf #werewolf au

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silverstonesainz-archive · 1 year

Note

rank the 2023 grid + danny, mick, and seb from least likely to most be a complete bridezilla like just nitpicking and micro managing the entire wedding weekend

okay so from least to most likely:

sebastian -> he is such a soft spoken guy and i think that he wouldn't care too much about the little details. its very much jim & pam where all that matters is that you're getting married.

fernando -> this man is so unserious. if he had it his way yall would've had a shotgun wedding in las vegas. he could careless about the details, he just wants to be married to you.

nico -> i actually am not sure if that man would have a coherent thought all weekend. he's just by your side, making sure you don't lose your mind.

guanyu -> very cool, calm, & collected. very zen. i just think he'd be would stay glued to his seat, waiting to go where he is needed and for everything to start.

daniel -> i think hed just be excited. nervous, but super giddy about everything. he just wants to see you walk down the aisle, and kiss you when all is said and done.

kevin -> i don't think this man ever gets nervous. he'd be your rock all weekend. super levelheaded, which is exactly what you need. he's just happy to be there with you and the people he cares about most.

checo -> this man is probably drinking some tequila cocktail, only worried about his prep. not even selfishly he just knows he would be no help on his own. hed very much be your rock, will be there and do whatever you need him to if & when you ask + give direction.

valterri -> valterri would be attached to you all weekend until he couldnt be. and that would be enough to keep you & himself calm. i think he'd try to take on some of the planning to keep you unstressed but nothing crazy.

alex -> he'd been helping you plan from day one, and something tells me this man has back up plans on back up plans in case something goes awry. a bit controlling, but nothing psychotic. he's just prepared.

lando -> nervous, but nervous because he is a child and cannot for the life of him keep still so he tries to get involved with the set up and all that. not a bridezilla, but he would be asking 'why?' a lot because he blanked out during the planning. so he's genuinely clueless.

yuki -> he'd be a mess of nerves which i think would make him a bit like bridezilla, but nothing a bit of food can't fix. he just wants the day to be perfect because he wants your memory of it be just that– perfect.

esteban -> he wouldnt be like crazy involved but very much on you like, 'how can i help?' or 'is there anything you need me to do?' so yeah. he'll only freak if you freak, and he is doing everything in his power so you dont.

oscar -> this child would just be confused. but i think he's thoughtful enough to know how you'd like to things so if he sees smth not being executed properly, he'd definitely speak up about it.

logan -> same deal as oscar me thinks, but a little more confrontational. he is a white man, a white man. the privilege would jump OUT if needed.

nyck -> he knows just how you want things, so he'd be right by your side making sure everything is perfect. you guys would be co-bridezillas HAHA

pierre -> he def planned the wedding with you, and he has bits of the weekend that are all his own vision. so i know that he'd be hovering, making sure the people setting up are doing it just as he pictures it.

carlos -> this mf would be so nervous and also cannot keep still i think he'd start doing some of the work himself. i think he'd freak out just a little bit, wondering why things are moving fast enough.

max -> another man heavily involved with the planning, but more so he sits back and listens to what you have to say and gives input where he sees fit. and since he knows the plans, you will definitely catch this man morning of, trying to take charge like he's the wedding planner himself.

lewis -> lewis definitely took part in the planning, and also has back up plans on back up plans. but theyre back up for a reason, so he is sure to make sure everything goes according to plan. you both had a vision, and he'll make sure that vision comes to life.

mick -> he just wants the day to be perfect. i think this man would genuinely shed some tears if something didn't go according to plan. but it comes from a very pure place, and also the fact that hes a perfectionist.

lance -> nepo baby has taste & a vision. lance would 100% up and at em the entire weekend, making sure everything is where it needs to be. and like he made sure that he could take part in the set up. he is the boss that day, so that you can try to relax and only worry about the day of.

charles -> this little mouse would be PACING. he'd be on the phone with people to make sure everything is going to plan, not wanting you to deal with any of the loose ends. and i just know for a fact he has mama on speed dial for extra moral support.

george -> i just think he'd be worried all weekend because he doesn't want you to worry. but that just means he would freak himself and everyone else out in the process. similar to charles where he'd be on the phone all day, and lance where he'd be very hands on.

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allthelittlecreepycrawlies · 1 month

Text

OK big thanks to @micchikureshima for letting me rant this concept out in discord because otherwise I probably never would have gotten it typed.

This is basically throwing together multiple ideas i've already posted (the meng yao has serious misconceptions idea and the tumblr post about the sect rejecting huaisang as heir and him leaving to keep from forcing mingjue between a rock and a hard place) into one vaguely coherent storyline.

Also it's gonna be long, so some of it will go under a cut.

Starting with that fic where Meng Yao wakes up to find Nie Huaisang burying a bird he couldn't save, slide to the left into a timeline where Meng Yao didn't go outside and thus never got his POV recontextualized. Having only his preconceived notions and gossip to go on, he starts quietly developing a resentment against Huaisang.

It kind of comes to a head when he's convinced to accept some local wine at a dinner and is so not ready for the paint thinner they drink in Qinghe. In vino veritas or a reversal of the 'confessing to a crush while drunk' trope where he says some very uncharitable things about Huaisang while plastered.

When he wakes up the next morning with a massive hangover and remembers what happened, he's mortified and convinced he's in so much trouble.

But... he's not?

In fact, his insults towards the sect heir seems to have actually gained him some popularity, even among disciples and soldiers who didn't like him before. And while Nie Mingjue isn't among the ones who outright thought it was funny, even he says his silly useless brother brought it on himself, and maybe he'll learn from it.

And Huaisang definitely learned from it, even if the only lesson he took was to avoid Meng Yao completely to keep from being further humiliated. The only time they're in the same room together after that is if Huaisang can't get out of it.

Like when Nie Mingjue sends Meng Yao along with the prospective students to make sure there are no Incidents, not caring how uncomfortable his brother is about it. Grow up, Huaisang, you're going to be dealing with people who don't like you your entire life, it's just a thing people expected to work in politics have to live with.

On the trip, Meng Yao notices that while he doesn't keep any, Huaisang seems to be able to charm wild birds with ease. It briefly makes him wonder about the aviary… but no, not important.

It's not enough for him to start questioning his earlier opinions.

Veering fully into CQL-territory for a moment, Huaisang gets home on time this go around instead of making the long detour because he doesn't want to be stuck with Meng Yao any longer than necessary, but the Yunmeng group still arrives with Xue Yang in tow, the Wens still show up, Meng Yao still gets injured, Xue Yang still gets freed, and the captain still gets killed.

When Meng Yao finds himself banished, he is caught off guard when Nie Huaisang is angry about it (this time entirely because he thinks it's bad form to exile someone who's still badly wounded, especially when they got that wound in the line of duty), but he correctly believes nothing will come of it when Huaisang says he'll talk to his brother, so he leaves while Huaisang is gone. Back to MDZS canon but with a bonus character, It's not until the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, when Jin Guangyao is having to put up with his family's general everything that the situation changes.

Shortly after his father has read him the riot act over the Jiang sect's behavior during the hunt, he comes across Nie Huaisang and Nie Zonghui quietly talking on one of the guest balconies.

"It's probably just different when it's family. Or else I'm just that much of a monster, if I'm less forgivable than someone like Jin Guangshan."

…Oh.

Jin Guangyao doesn't stick around to hear what Nie Zonghui says in response, but the short exchange haunts him as he goes back to his duties.

What has Huaisang done that's in any way comparable to his relatives' behavior?

Now that he's trying to actually think of anything, he can't find an answer.

In fact, he can't stop wondering if he hadn't been coloring Huaisang's behavior with Jin gold the entire time, his first encounter with his father's sect having tainted his opinion. He'll apologize, he decides.

But he doesn't get the chance before the conference is over, kept so busy by everyone's demands that he can barely catch his breath. and even after the other sects are gone, his father constantly has new tasks and orders and creepy little plots for him to carry out.

Before he realizes it, it's been almost a month.

And then his spies in Qinghe tell him about the inheritance chaos going on in the Unclean Realms.

And then Nie Huaisang is gone. Walked out into the night and vanished with only a letter to his brother left behind.

Nie Mingjue of course doesn't bring it up with him, why would he? Even if they've sworn brotherhood, they're still mostly on the outs. but he hears from er-ge that Nie Mingjue won't talk about it with anyone, not even him. Just keeping it all bottled up and boiling.

He should be relieved, even with this new source of tension. Now it doesn't matter if he apologizes or not.

That doesn't make the discomfort go away, though, because he's plagued by the same doubts as Nie Mingjue, wondering how much he contributed to public opinion eventually forcing Huaisang out.

Months later, just after Jin Ling is born, Jin Guangshan is already expecting to throw a massively extravagant hundred days celebration and has Jin Guangyao making all the arrangements and gathering all the necessary supplies.

His current assignment is to visit some merchants the Jin sect occasionally does business with in a little port town in order to arrange some expensive future kitchen deliveries.

There's a painter doing portraits for a tourist couple on one of the piers.

Nie Huaisang is almost unrecognizable. He's thinner, his clothes are plain and unadorned, his hair pulled up into a bun with no braids. If it weren't for the black and gold bird singing on his shoulder as he works, Jin Guangyao would have overlooked him entirely, and even then, it's only the green eyes that make him realize just who he's looking at.

He watches as Huaisang chats amiably with the couple, all bubbling cheer like he used to be whenever trying to win friends, and Jin Guangyao wonders if leaving the sect has really had any effect on him at all. And then as soon as they walk away, happy with their souvenir, the mask vanishes and he looks so tired and withdrawn, even as the bird comforts him by pulling at his hair.

Ah. Jin Guangyao knows all too well what it's like wearing that mask.

It looks like the apology will still be necessary.

Jin Guangyao manages to coax huaisang into at least meeting for dinner if only for a free meal, and it becomes clear as they exchange (mostly) meaningless small talk that while Huaisang has a lot of 'neighbors' because he does a lot of small clerical or scribing jobs here and there, he has completely given up on any actual social relationships and mostly keeps to himself.

And he doesn't really believe the apology, mostly because it seems everyone else agrees with Jin Guangyao's original opinions of him, so why would he walk it back? But he's grateful for the food anyway, so Jin Guangyao decides that has to be enough for now and he'll work on proving his change of heart in other small ways when he's not as constrained by having to conduct sect business matters on this trip.

With the hatchet sort of buried, Jin Guangyao will report on what he's seen to Nie Mingjue.

It turns out Mingjue hasn't even opened any of his brother's letters, though he's been keeping them all. He's convinced himself they'll just make him madder and he's barely holding it together as it is. But whatever Jin Guangyao tells him makes him finally read them, and when the last one mentions giving up on writing, he realizes it's been almost a month and a half since it was sent, when before, the letters had been arriving practically weekly.

Fuck. Huaisang really did give up. All he's been doing by keeping this bottled up is pushing his brother even further away.

He decides that a response letter at this point won't do, and besides, he wants to see for himself this new (difficult, if Jin Guangyao didn't lie) life Huaisang's been living.

The resulting…. not a confrontation, but not exactly a reunion in the seaside town is super awkward and uncomfortable for both Nie brothers, but at least it ends with them understanding each other a little bit better? At least they'll start writing each other properly, as will Jin Guangyao and Huaisang.

(And that's pretty much as far as I got on this idea, so it'll stay pretty open ended.)

#mdzs #ideas #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie sect #possible future sangyao? i mean not guaranteed but it IS me writing this

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