Tumgik
#I'll get around to sending you another eventually
2d-reality · 2 days
Text
Little Things (The Prince of Demons)
Tumblr media
characters: Diavolo, GN!MC navigation: Diavolo | Barbatos | Simeon | Solomon | Luke | Thirteen content/warnings: little things you do, out of love. dateables edition! fluff. could be read as platonic but why would u word count: 862 notes: Alas, Dia is the only one I have finished as of now on account of how my work/life balance has been absolutely wacked recently. I'll get around to the rest eventually, I promise! I have bits and pieces here and there but the dateables don't flow as easy as the boys. Mephis will likely not be included bc I'm not even vaguely familiar with his character, and because we are both horse girls and he is my bitter rival on principle. I stared at this piece a lot but did I edit it? no
Tumblr media
Diavolo was a lonely man. He knew a lonely childhood, tucked away in the Demon King’s palace with only the grounds staff as company. He attended lessons alone as he grew up learning what it would take to shoulder his father’s throne once he came of age. When the reigning monarch fell into his dreamless slumber, Diavolo had effectively lost yet another lifeline to anything resembling a normal existence-- a parent. As a young man (or, rather, the demon equivalent of a young man), surrounded by nobility of all kinds vying for his attention, he knew they only saw Diavolo, the Crown Prince. Even the brothers, who were the closest to being considered his friends, played along with his antics out of duty. No doubt Lucifer drilled it into them to be accommodating. 
Sometimes he felt as though he was cursed-- paying for his original sin by bearing his existence, at the end of the day, alone. 
That was, at least, until you came along. You, so small and fierce and human. You, who upon meeting him at the beginning of your tenure as an exchange student, held his gaze squarely and didn’t back down, even when he could practically smell your fear.
You, who for whatever reason, be it ignorance or sheer, unmitigated gall or something else entirely, didn’t for a moment treat him any differently than any other demon you met. Once you were comfortable living among magical beings, it was as if the floodgates opened. Despite horrified reactions from Lucifer and gentle chiding from Barbatos, you told him when his jokes were stupid (even if you still laughed), slapped his arm companionably when greeting him, and called him by a myriad of silly nicknames. 
Your friendship is the most precious thing Diavolo has ever received in his long life. You aren’t one of his subjects, born to defer to him whether you wanted to or not. You aren’t an angel, who gave him a cautious respect for the good of your realms’ relations. You didn’t even know he existed before you came to the Devildom. You chose not to see the heir to the throne, and instead saw Diavolo-- a gentle giant with more love in his heart than he was born to carry. Diavolo, who would go to the ends of all three realms for those he cared for. Diavolo, who was loud and boisterous and always wanted to be involved. Diavolo, who liked cigar cookies and video games and could be a bit of a goofball. 
He cherishes every aspect of your relationship. He loves when you send him blurry photos of various pairs of objects or animals you see when out and about, with the caption "us fr <3”. He loves getting links to dumb memes in the middle of the night, followed by laughing emojis or “this u??” You poke fun at him, bite back with quips when he makes jokes at your expense, and play silly little pranks on him. His favorite is when you gesture to something on his coat, only to flick the tip of his nose when he looks down to investigate. He’d long since caught on to that ruse, among others, but your bright smile and chirping laughter when you teased him for falling for it yet again are too precious to him to not play along.
He even appreciates the times that you turn down his invitations to spend the weekend at the palace with him, citing exhaustion from the brothers’ antics or pressing schoolwork from RAD. You’re not automatically agreeing simply because you have no choice-- you spend your limited, precious time on him because you want to. More often than not you made up for declining by showing up entirely unannounced some time later, cloaked beneath a spell to shield you from Barbatos’ sixth sense for his Lord getting up to shenanigans, beckoning him to sneak out with you to suck on thick milkshakes in some cramped corner booth and giggle conspiratorially like a couple of misbehaving teenagers. 
When he’s around you, Diavolo feels like he can breathe. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. You aren’t looking for political sway, or funding, or an elevated social status. For the first time in his life, he can set aside his heavy burden and feel... normal. He can ruffle your hair, and only half-heartedly hold you back from practically climbing him to dig your knuckles into his scalp and return the favor. He can laugh when you swat at his hand as he reaches across your plate to steal a few of your fries. He wears the friendship bracelet you braided for him at all times. He considered charming it to never fade or fray, but when it finally falls apart from wear, your mock exasperation when you tell him you’ll make him another makes him feel so real. 
Diavolo was a lonely man. But now, he has a friend. A genuine, honest-to-goodness friend. You have matching contact photos, and inside jokes. You don’t call him my lord when he comes up in conversation; it’s always my friend. Now, thanks to you, he isn’t lonely anymore.
95 notes · View notes
gallawitchxx · 2 days
Note
hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖
ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏
sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx
- - - - -
send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚
- - - - -
#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.
Ian hasn’t slept in days.
It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.
His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.
Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.
Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.
Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.
He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?
The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?
Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.
Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?
He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.
The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?
He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?
Another clench: Indica
Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?
There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.
Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.
Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.
On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.
The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.
Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.
Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.
Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.
Jesus, he needs to sleep.
“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.
Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.
Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.
Wants him to stay the night.
Forever, maybe.
Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”
That’s the last thing Ian wants.
“Not tired,” he fibs.
Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”
It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.
“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”
Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”
Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.
69 notes · View notes
twilightarcade · 10 months
Note
What is your favourite punctuation?
. , : ; - () ! ?
Im quite fond of parenthesis though I've been on a heroic quest to get myself to stop using them so much (absolutely miserable.) I love commas actually and they're like. My best friends. Hate semi colons we could have been best friends if not for the rules of grammar however. They require more forethought to use than I would like; but look I just shoved one in here isnt that cool. (a comma would have worked there I believe. since i put "but" in.) I'm sorta number one hater of sentence structure it was pretty cool, and I technically need to live with it, but im killing that guy first chance I get. I was never particularly good at articulating my thoughts, much less conforming to a system of grammar. Lots of run on sentences coming from this guy.
I've gotten into a habit of horribly abusing punctuation for toning (you have probably noticed honestly) which doesn't translate horribly well to professional writing.. some examples of absolute crimes against grammar include making ellipsis with commas instead of periods (,,) to be like? A slightly faster pause. Trailing off without completely walking into the void. Another is mashing together ending punctuation (word,? , word.! , word,! , etc) for some freaking reason. Putting some sorta? Buildup?? Slight pause? And there's probably more crimes against grammar I'm forgetting.
Its not really... punctuation. But I also kind of love italics. One of those things I sort of force myself to just not use even though it can add a lot of? Character or whatever. Mainly to stress a certain part of a sentence. I know there's a post about this floating around but like "we don't need to shoot him" vs "we don't need to shoot him" vs "we don't need to shoot him." Emphasis placed on different parts of the sentence, giving the sentence different subtext or whatever I forget words.
10 notes · View notes
ohbother2 · 3 months
Note
Okay….Adam sfw and nsfw headcanons? I cannot believe I have begun to simp after this trashbag DAMN YOU ALEX BRIGHTMAN-
I have an admission... I fucking love Adam pls keep sending Adam requests in I can't get enough of this man
Also, sorry I've been MIA, I've got a lot of deadlines coming up so updates will be more spaced out over the next few weeks :)
I love Adam but he's quite difficult to write, so pls lmk what you guys think! I tried to keep him in character! (This was far longer than planned lol I just love this man)
NSFW - Minors DNI
---
Adam x f!reader - General Headcannons
SFW
You'd been in heaven for many decades, possibly even centuries, before you had ever even entered Adam's radar
He was the 'original dick', as he liked to constantly remind everyone within shouting distance, and spent all of his time surrounded by the higher-ups of Heaven, attending meetings, court-hearings, and dealing with training his danger-tits army for the next extermination
It would take a lot to enter his radar, having to work your way into the correct circles, gain the right connections and attend the right events
But once you're in the circumference of society he haunts, you're on his radar immediately
He's a man with fine tastes, look at his previous wives, he has a type ("fucking bombshells" as he would describe them) and as soon as he sees you in his peripheral one afternoon he's zoned in and absolutely entranced
No one has ever said no to him before, so when you do, he's taken aback. Hiding his confusion and deep-rooted offence with a flippant comment "Oh, playing the hard to get game, babe? Lucky for you I fucking love the chase."
Inwardly, he's fucking fuming, why on earth would you reject him? Alas, he's sure he'll win you over eventually... right?
He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's a self-entitled piece of shit, but he's also determined, passionate, and is anything but a quitter
You will not know peace for months after your reject him
He'll storm into your office whenever he feels like it - which is whenever he has enough free time to do so - bugging you relentlessly as you try and finish your work. He never stops asking questions about you: your day, your hobbies, your love life, what're you doing after work tonight? He's free, he could take you somewhere nice, show you a real fun time
When you stop answering he starts bitching about his day to you, about the local gossip, about some Seraphim that pissed him off, about some bitch at the bar, which he could totally take you to, did he mention he was free tonight?
He doesn't just hound you at work, and you often find yourself coming to a screeching halt in the street and abruptly turning the other way when you spot his iconic mask - he's a tall man, his horns poking noticeably above the crowd as he tries to find any excuse to find and talk to you
When he gets really desperate, after months and months of unsuccessful attempts of gaining your attention, he finally turns to Lute with the all too familiar question "You're a woman, right? What do you-"
The advice she gives is not one he is happy to receive, 'stay away and tone it the fuck down', but he listens, ego taking a massive hit as he watches you carry on as normal
Funnily enough, you start to miss the annoying dick, and you begin to look forward to his far less frequent visits, which mainly consist of you both bumping into each other at work and making polite conversation
When he really can't take it anymore, and he happens to hear rumour about another man planning on asking you on a date, he practically breaks down your office door with a bouquet of flowers, thrusting them unhappily into your hands and asking incredibly politely for you to please go on a date with him
You're both surprised when you agree, and he can feel his face heating up beneath his mask as he whoops, calling a "I knew you'd come around babe, I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Can't wait to see what you wear." over his shoulder as he bustles back out of your office, practically vibrating until he can tell Lute the news
He's 'The Original Man', and once you become his girl there is nothing he wouldn't do for you - he's constantly swinging by your office and pulling away the less important paperwork, commenting that he can get one of his workers to do it and freeing up time for you both to hang out; he's constantly flying through your balcony with bags of some new takeaway and chatting about this amazing new food place he found as he drops the heavy bags on your counter; someone causing you trouble? If he can't personally deal with it due to some 'relationship' he has to upkeep, he's sure to inform Lute who will have the situation handled before sunset that same day
Basically, he has authority in Heaven, and he's going to use that to make your life as easy as possible
Having a bad day? He can fix that. Oh, not in the mood for sex? Well, he's an amazing cuddle buddy, and he has the softest wings, let him just grab some snacks from the kitchen and then get ready for a night on the sofa wrapped in his strong arms and soft wings
His wings are insanely soft, and big, and despite his best efforts, no matter how long you've both been dating, they will flutter if he hasn't seen you in an extended amount of time, or if you're wearing something particular nice - he can't control it and it thoroughly ruins his bad-boy persona
You're the only other person beside Lute who he feels comfortable with letting preen his wings, and after you start officially dating he only comes to you with the issue, batting his eyelashes and pleading with you to 'take care of him'. You do, and he always breaks his promise not to 'make it weird' until you give him a firm smack on the back of his head - he's fallen asleep more times than you can count with your hands in his wings
He returns the favour, of course, and he sticks to his word like a gentleman, hands remaining firmly against your wings and not daring to wander. He's not a saint, however, and he will whisper less-than-holy things in your ear as he works - he'll stop if you don't play along, and finds himself enjoying the innocent intimacy of it. If you do play along? Oh, boy, his hands don't stay on your wings for long
He uses his wings a lot in his body language, and in your initial stages of courting he'll constantly puff them out to make him seem bigger, trying to impress you with his sheer size - embarrassingly for you, it works
PDA is not approved of in heaven, so he has to maintain his distance from you in public but that is a completely different matter in private
He will take every opportunity to touch you, innocently, whether that be a had on your jaw to bring your attention back to him or to guide your gaze wherever he wants you to look, a hand on your bicep to pull you this way and that, a large hand between your shoulder blades if you're being too slow
In public, completely subconsciously, whichever wing is closest to you will outstretch, barely noticeable to the majority of people, corralling you in closer to his side, and protecting you from whatever might happen - there's no danger in heaven, but still, he likes to know you're safe, and his wings reflect that desire
In private, he's constantly got a hand on you, oftentimes both, on your arms, your shoulders, your waist, the small of your back, your thighs, fucking anywhere - he likes having you on his chest on the sofa, and he finds it funny when he tries to do the same and crushes the air from your lungs
He loves when you cook and he can just stand behind you with his chin propped on your head or shoulder and his arms around your waist. You constantly have to tell him off for whispering foul things in your ear, but he quickly shuts up when you threaten to send him away, his grip tightening against you as he pouts playfully and watches silently
He will actively stretch out his wing when it's cold or windy or rainy, shielding you from the elements with his large wings and loving the excuse to pull you close. "What're they gonna say babe? I'm just keeping you dry."
The biggest difficulty in your domestic lives is the housework, he's an old fashioned man and he's never really had to do housework before. He's gotten better throughout your relationship, but he still absolutely hates washing dishes, but he'll happily sit in the kitchen and keep you company and talk mindlessly as he watches you work. He always thanks you with a kiss
If you ever make him do it, expect to be sat on the counter right next to him and no you cannot leave until he's done and yes you will listen to him complain the entire time and yes he will always slap your ass with a wet hand as payback, cackling as you yell half-heartedly
Deep down, incredibly deep, oceanic levels of deep, past the many many levels of crude jokes and brash humour, of over-compensating confidence and attempted witty one-liners, past the smirk and the puffed chest and the domineering presence, is a man who is cripplingly doubtful and insecure - two of his wives have left him for the same man, and he's absolutely terrified (but would rather burn in the fiery pits of hell than ever admit it) that it's going to happen again
He can seem rude and brash and uncaring, but he really is trying his best, and he's desperate to prove to you, in his own way, how much he really cares (He's scared to admit even to himself how much losing you would crush him)
Because of this, no event is ever half-assed - it's your birthday? He's got the biggest cake he can find and he's made some of his exterminators set up a surprise birthday party for you. It's your anniversary? He's pretending he's forgotten until the morning of and suddenly you've got a reservation at one of the nicest and most in-demand places in all of Heaven
"Come on, sugar," He'd reprimand you mockingly, shit-eating grin on his face at your excitement "you really thought I'd forget my special girl?"
He can doubt himself sometimes, worrying about your feelings for him, but he hides his insecurities whenever you catch him in deep-thought with some lame sex-joke
He doesn't ever want to talk about his insecurities, and he'll never outright tell you what he fears more than anything, but you pick up on it after enough time together
You don't pry, but you do card your hands through his hair when you see his eyes go particularly glossy one afternoon, pressing a kiss to his temple and scratching at his scalp, making your way slowly to his wings and back and taking your sweet time. He closes his eyes and listens to you ramble about your day, which eventually turns into you rambling about him, how handsome he is, how hard he works, and how much you love him and how you don't know what you'd do without him
He doesn't realise it, but you say just the rights things he needs for him to regain that pep in his step and for his cocky words to have more meaning behind them
NSFW
He's the Original Dick, and you'd hope he had the goods to back up the talk with the amount of bragging he does
He does; he does have the goods, and some would say he's being humble because what the fuck
He's the oldest human in history - he's seen it all, done it all twice, and he's more than willing to share some of his tricks with you
He's too proud and self-centred to ever let you have complete control, but when he's particularly lazy he'll let you go on top (as rare as this occasion is) but he'll still guide you as best as he can, lifting you easily with his strong arms and sweet-talking you with his sharp tongue
The first time you ever see him without his god-awful mask is during an intimate moment - you're first intimate moment, where you downright refused to continue if he didn't take the cursed thing off his face
Again, he's insecure, and it takes a lot of reassurance and just the right amount of kisses on his jaw and neck for him to be convinced that taking his mask off was worth it
He lets you look at him for several moments, and then he's had enough and he took his mask off for a fucking reason and he's pulling you into his lap and kissing you properly for the fist time
You can compliment him later, he has other things on his mind right now, the main one being fucking you until you can't even conjure a coherent thought
After that encounter he slowly takes his mask off in private with you more and more, learning to appreciate how nice it was to be able to kiss your temple and actually feel you against his lips, as well as how nice it was to feel your lips against his cheek
Still keeps the mask on sometimes, especially when you ask so nicely
He absolutely loves receiving head, resting back in his office chair or against the back of the sofa and letting you get to work, grunts and groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your hair tightly and guide you exactly how he wants you
He will give head as well, he's not selfish by any means, but he much prefers kissing you as you fall apart beneath him - for him, he'd much rather swallow your screams and mutter dirty things in your ear as he brings you to release
Be careful with his wings, especially when he lets you preen them - gentle touches can easily be misinterpreted as passionate caresses and before you know it you're pinned on your back with a red-faced and disheveled looking Adam hovering above you, muttering about how you're a "fucking tease" and if "you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask, sugar. I'll never leave you wanting."
He knows the power of wings, and his heavy touches against your own when he needs to "Just sliding past babe, what's that fucking look for? Can't a man work?" are no accident. He loves getting you all wound up. He takes it as a personal challenge to do it in public, and his shit-eating grin remains the entire day before he's pressing you against the door of his office or your plush bed and muttering about how fucking needy you are.
He doesn't take being teased well, and he'll glare at you the entire time until he can do something about it - he'll have even less patience than usual, especially for people who aren't you, and often has to do damage-control after he's regained his bearings a few hours later
He's a big man, and he uses that to his full advantage, man-handling you with ease, positioning you exactly where he wants you, pinning both of your wrists easily with only one of his large hands, pushing your legs apart like butter
He can lift you easily, and he'll hold you against the wall, or countertop, or wherever the fuck you guys are, and he'll keep you there until he's done
Lute has walked in on you both far too many times, and she always hurtles back out of the door cursing at you both angrily
He likes pinning you beneath him, spreading his wings over your forms and completely shrouding you with his form - you're fucking his, and no one else will take that from him
He fucking loves dirty talk, and it's a challenge to get him to shut up - he'll carry on talking at you long after you're able to respond, and he'll just start talking about that instead: "Aw, look at you, can't even fucking say my name you're so fucking dumb for this c-"
As said before, he's insecure based on the way he lost his two previous wives and the reflects into the bedroom
If you do degrade him, he'll just challenge you, telling you you've obviously not learnt your fucking lesson and picking up the pace, desperate to prove he's the exact opposite of whatever had just spilled from your mouth - you'll pay for trying to goad him on, he won't relent until you're a babbling shaking mess, stuttering out apologies and taking back everything you had just dared to say to him
Any praise you offer him he absolutely laps up. Call him handsome, tell him your his, tell him there's no one else in the world who would ever compared to him, how good he's fucking you - he'll get so wrapped up in the praise he'll even stop talking, completely focussed on his task of making you feel good, making sure you know there's no one else who could give you what he does
Dig your hands into his wings and he becomes a groaning mess, and it'll only be a few seconds of you muttering those sweet praises in his ears and your nails digging into his wings before he's collapsing on top of you and panting raggedly, still trying to mutter out curses and praises through his gruff gasping
When he really loses control his wings will flap of their own accord, and you've had to completely clear your side tables because he kept accidentally smashing everything that was on them
He likes to rest afterwards, and he usually tries to encourage you into going another round.
He'll tug you into his sweaty side, pulling you half onto his chest as he breathes deeply, immediately asking if you enjoyed it, and when you agree, he'll always mutter something along the lines of "Of course you fucking did, it's me."
2K notes · View notes
Text
Guilty || Billy the Kid x oc!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: For the longest time you've felt like you have always been second to your older sister, Dulcinea. That however, soon changes when an outlaw, William H. Bonney—known to many as Billy the Kid—comes to town.
Warnings: smut!
Wc: 2,930
A/n: please send through more requests for Billy please! also the smut scene is lowkey inspired by the bathroom scene in euphoria season 2 with nate and cassie....
Tumblr media
Divider by @pommecita
"I'm Billy. I just wanted to introduce myself," You hear a man spoke as you near the door. Your sister lets out a small scoff, "Well that is not a very good reason to ambush someone in the street," Dulcinea quipped.
"You have another motive," You hear your sister say as you press yourself against the door to listen more closely to the conversation. "I'd like to see you again," At his words, your eyes widen. Who was this mysterious man? "Why?" And there was a gap of silence.
You stepped out from your previous spot as all eyes were now on you. "Are we ready to go?" You ask your sister as she gives one final look to the man named Billy. You take your chance to look the man up and down.
He was a very good-looking cowboy. Your eyes roam around his body before you snap out of it as your name was called out, "Sofía, let's go” Billy watches you, his lips parting as he drinks in your appearance, he put two and two together and figured you were Dulcinea's sister.
You looked very similar to Dulcinea, more prettier perhaps in his opinion. Billy tips his hat slightly to you as you give him a small smile before walking towards the carriage. Dulcinea stares at you as you sit beside her, she slams the door shut and the carriage begins to move.
You couldn't help but look back to where Billy still stood. "Don't even think about it," Your sister firmly says as you roll your eyes. She was directly telling you to back off with Billy. Something that she has always done with every guy you and her have come across.
While Dulcinea was looking away, you sneaked a look and found Billy looking straight at you. Your cheeks begin to warm up as you send him a little wave to which he smiles before mounting his horse.
The next day, you decided to accompany your maid into town to buy a few things. You were secretly hoping to see that man again, Billy was his name. He looked unfamiliar to you, so you wanted to find out more about him.
"Isabel, have you heard of a Billy here?" You ask her as you inspect an apple in your hand. There was no response from the older woman. Isabel continued to look through the assortments of fruits laid out in front. "Isabel." You put the apple down as she sighs.
"Yes. I know of a Billy. And you should stay away from him, he is bad news, mi hija." She shakes her head whilst muttering incoherent words under her breath. Your eyes suddenly begin to look around, hopeful that you would get a glimpse of him. And you did.
He was across the street, tying his horse to the post. "I'll be back," You didn't bother waiting for a response before you pick up the fabrics of your dress and walk across the street.
You stop when you see your family carriage pull up in front of him, your view of him blocked. You furrow your eyes in confusion as to who else came into town. Mother and father were away and only you and Isabel left the house this morning, which meant that it was your sister.
What was she doing here? Dulcinea said she had no interest coming into town today saying she was too busy. Just as quickly as the carriage came, it quickly left. Billy's eyes were glued onto the carriage before his eyes begin to wander around, eventually landing on you.
You probably looked strange just standing in the middle of the streets, staring at him. Billy freezes slightly, his eyes looking you up and down. A smile makes it onto his face before he tips his hat at you once again.
"Sofía!" You move your attention away from Billy and see a friend of yours, Lucía, walking your direction, a huge grin plastered on her face. "What are you doing here?" She gives you a funny look as you clear your throat, your eyes flickering to where Billy was, only to find his figure disappearing into the building.
"I'm shopping, with Isabel." You give her a smile. "And where is she?" Lucía looks around as she links arms with you. "Right this way," You say as you walk with her. "Do you know of a man named Billy?" You suddenly ask her.
She would know. She knows basically everything about everyone in town. "Billy?" She says to herself, "I've heard of that name, can you tell me what he looks like?" Lucía looks at you.
"Well he's tall. Very tall. He looks like he's my sister's age. Brown hair, blue eyes and- oh- very good looking," You jokingly fan yourself as Lucía laughs, you joining along.
You stop in your tracks when you see Billy mounting his horse. You quickly nudge Lucía, "Look! There he is, that's the man I was telling you about," You cock your head over to where Billy was. Lucía's mouth hangs open, her eyes moving from him to you. "What?" You raise an eyebrow at her weird behaviour.
"You're talking about Billy? That Billy?!" Her voice begins to become louder as you slap your hand over her mouth. "Shh! He can probably hear you," You whisper yell at her as the two of you watch Billy ride off.
"So you know him?" You ask your friend as she gives you the 'really' look. "Of course I know him! Everyone in this county knows about him, except for you apparently," Lucía shakes her head. "What? Why? Who is he?"
Confusion was etched into your face as Lucía facepalms herself. "Sofía, haven't you heard of Billy the Kid? The famous outlaw that has been travelling from town to town? Surely you have heard of him, mi amiga."
Now that you thought about it, his name was familiar to you. You recall your parents talking him at home, but it never clicked in your head that that was the Billy they were talking about. "Yeah, I have," You kick a rock infront of you, your eyes watching where it lands. "Why do you wanna know about him anyways?" She asks you as you shrug.
"Dulcinea was talking to him last night, just got curious, that's all." Lucía didn’t buy it one bit but chose to leave it alone. “You’re not wrong you know,” She breaks the silence as you turn your head to her, a puzzled look on your face.
“About Billy being attractive,” She cracks a shy smile before you nudge her and the two of you start laughing out loud. “Sofía! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, hurry up.” The old woman scolds you, pushing you towards your carriage as Lucía chuckles, waving you goodbye.
~
You couldn't stop thinking about him. How could you not? The fact that he was a notorious outlaw further fueled the fire that was ablaze in the lower pit of your stomach. A sudden knock at the front door of your house made you pause your train of thoughts.
You were slightly confused at the idea of a visitor today. Mother and father were gone and you weren't expecting anyone over. You stand still in your spot before you hear footsteps leaving Dulcinea's room. Quickly walking out of your room, you grab ahold of your older sister's arm.
"Who's here?" You ask her and a smile you knew all to well crept onto her face. "Billy. Remember that guy you saw a two nights ago? I invited him over," She says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows crease in bewilderment.
"You know who exactly he is right, Dulcie?" Her nickname slips out of your mouth as she faces you front on, arms crossed. "Yes, I do, Sof," She points her chin up the tiniest bit, something she did whenever she was questioned.
"Then what the hell is he doing on our doorstep? Father would kill you if he ever found out that an outlaw stepped foot into our house-" "Which is why you will keep quiet." Dulcinea interrupts you, her tone sharp. You could see it in her eyes, rage brewing.
You loudly scoff, examining her features. "You know father would never allow it, plus, you already have someone you’re forced to marry soon," You narrow your eyes at her as she rolls hers. "Oh please, father will come around. Billy is not what people perceive him to be. I think father will like him," Is all she says as she turns around, making her way to the front door.
You exhale from your mouth before you make your way back to your room. You were dying to see Billy, but knowing Dulcinea, she would not let you be in the same room with him because you knew she liked him. And whoever Dulcinea liked, was off-limits to you, her innocent, little sister.
For the next couple of hours, you entertained yourself in your room. It was late at night when you figured that Billy had already left. You walked out of your bedroom, turning the corner before you collide with somebody.
You lose balance and readied yourself for the harsh impact but you were pulled back up by your forearms. "Fuck- I'm so sorry, sweetheart-" "It's fine. It's fine." You screw your eyes shut knowing whose voice it belonged to as you blew a loose strand of hair out of your face.
"What are you doing?" You ask him, your eyes looking around for any sign of your sister. "I- uh was 'bout to leave," Your lips form an 'o' before you slowly nod your head, silence following.
Your eyes were on everything but him. And his eyes were on you, studying your features that were similar to Dulcinea in some ways. "You're real pretty aren't cha, doll?" Your eyes snap to his after the pet name he just gave you, your mind slightly going blank before you process his comment.
"Am I?" Your voice dripped with playfulness as you tilt your head at him. You knew damn well Dulcinea could walk this way at any moment and see the two of you; she would let hell loose. "Mhm, prettier than your sister, I'd say. But don't go telling her I told you that." He winks as you furiously blush.
Your eyes falter down to your dress as you adjust the skirts of it slightly. "Y'know, I actually wanted to talk to you when I saw you in town earlier today," Billy's words make you look up at him.
"Really? Why didn't you?" You tilt your head at him as he kisses his teeth before opening his mouth, "Your sister, had me occupied for a bit and when I saw you, you were talkin' to someone else." He shrugs as you slowly nod.
"Well, I'm right here. What did you wanna talk about, Billy?" Your voice all of sudden was quiet. Billy smiled in satisfaction at his effect. "You uh- married?" He steps closer to you as he slightly cranes his neck to study your features.
You gulp. "N-no," You shake your head. He slowly nods his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You seein' anyone?" He asks, though his tone had a tinge of possessiveness in it. "No." Billy stares at you, his mind all over the place.
You were only 2 years younger than him but surely such a pretty, respectable, young lady like yourself would be married off to someone already, or seeing someone at least. "Good," He mutters as you couldn't help but smile. "Why's that, Mr. Bonney?" He looks around before he does something that catches you off guard. He grabbed your jaw and kisses your lips. Hard. You take a second to process what was happening.
He was kissing your so feverishly as if you were going to disappear. You stumble back at his rough force before he leads you down the hallway, his lips never leaving yours for a second. "The door on the left," You manage to say in between the kisses as he pulls you into your room.
Hands frantic, Billy skillfully undid the laces of your dress yanking it down to expose your chest as he wets his lips at the sight. He barely got your dress off before his hand grabbed your thigh and wrapped it around his waist.
He pushed you back against the door as you gasp, his mouth latching on to your nipples, your head thrown back at the sensation. Your hands toyed with Billy's hair as you tried containing your moans knowing your sister was still in the house.
"Don't keep quiet darlin'" He says against your skin before you feel him ripping your underwear. Your jaw dropped but you soon let out a loud moan as he slid into you. He groans against your neck, allowing you to adjust at the size, and when you do, he pumps into you at an almost inhumane speed.
You let out quiet moans as Billy grunts. Your hair was all messed up from being pushed up against the wooden door. "Oh my- Billy-" You breathed out, pushing him further into you with the heels of your foot around his waist.
""Fuckkk, feel so good baby" He grunts in you ear as you couldn't help but smile. A sudden knock on the door made you gasp in terror. Billy slapped his hand over your mouth at lightning speed to shut you up. "Sofía?" Dulcinea calls out from behind the door, another knock.
You stare wide eyed at Billy who quietly curses. "Sofía, are you in there?" Your sisters calls out for the second time as you panic. "Y-yeah?" Your voice was shaky. If Dulcinea found out that you fucked Billy, it would be over for you.
Although you were more free to do things than your older sister, you don't think your parents would be too happy to know their youngest daughter had sex with an outlaw, in their house. And you don't think Dulcinea would ever forgive you. She must be serious with Billy since she invited him over, something she never did with any of the previous guys.
"Why is the door lock?" The door handle rattles as you shut your eyes, feeling the tears coming. "Uh just a s-second! I'm changing!" You call out to her. Billy gently lets you down, zipping his pants as you attempt to tidy your appearance but fail miserably when the laces on your dress become tangled.
"Billy! Help me!" You whisper yell as tears were brimming your eyes. Billy's features soften when he sees you, quickly untangling the lace. In a matter of seconds, it was undone. He cupped your face in his big hands, your cheeks wet from tears.
"Shh, don't cry, sweetheart," He hushed, wiping your tears as you cover your mouth to quieten the sob that escapes. "She's my sister, she'll kill me!" Your voice was shaky as he pulls you into his chest, his hand in your hair.
"Sofía!" Dulcinea yells out, banging on the door as you flinch. You pull back from Billy as your eyes look around your room for a place to hide Billy. Settling on the panel room divider you push him behind it, "Wait here until she leaves, then you can sneak out of the window." You quickly say as he nods.
Before you turn back around, he grabs your hand. "Hey- it's okay," He assures you, his hand caressing your cheek as you slowly nod. "Finally!" Dulcinea exclaims as you didn't dare to make eye contact with her. She takes in your appearance.
"You okay? You look like you just ran a marathon," She raises an eyebrow as she touches your forehead but you pull back, a confused expression on her face.
"I'm fine, I just don't feel well." You gulp, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears, clearing your throat. "Right... Go tell Isabel and she'll give you something." Dulcinea says, you could tell she wasn't fully buying it.
"What did you want me for?" You finally meet her sharp eyes, "Oh. Have you seen Billy around? His horse is still outside and he was supposed to leave about an hour ago," She folds her arms, leaning against your door as her eyes wander around your room.
You clear your throat, slightly moving in front of her to block her view. "No, I haven't seen him. He probably went to take a look at the other horses in the stable," You lie through your teeth as your sister stares at you suspiciously.
"Okay," She says as you discreetly let out a sigh of relief. She gives you one final look before pushing herself off of the frame and walks down the hallway. You shut your door, locking it just as Billy comes up to you making you jump.
"I think you should go," You say to him. His hands rest on your shoulders, "I wanna see you again," He says softly, lifting your chin up to look him in the eyes. "Me too," You smile before he leans down to place a final kiss on your lips.
"What about tomorrow? Come see me in town," He suggests as you open your window. "I'd like that," You both smile at each other as he readies himself to leave. Just as he leaves through your window, he tips his hat at you. "Bye, Sofía," "Bye Billy," You chuckle lightly before he leaves and you shut your window.
1K notes · View notes
lokis-army-77 · 26 days
Text
Premium Air
mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.1k
It's a few days after April Foos, Eddie isn't expecting you to pull a koke but you have something up your sleve.
Warning: noting! unless you count cursing
Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs and @lofaewrites
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You loved seeing the harmless little pranks that people would play on their significant others on social media and with April first already behind you, you knew Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing. 
It was a bright Wednesday afternoon, you were at Robin's for a much needed girls day when you decided to put your little prank into action. 
"Hey, Rob, you wanna watch as I give Eddie a mini heart attack?" You ask as you wiggle into a more comfortable position on her couch.
"Oh my god, yes!" She excitedly shuffles over to you, leaning her whole body over your right side. 
You're both a giggling mess when you send the first text message. 
Hey, so my tire pressure light just came on, do I need to go have it checked?
It takes a few minutes but he eventually responds.
Is it still driving alright? 
Bring it to the shop when you get home from Robs, I'll fill it up before I leave work.
Yeah, it's driving just fine. The screen says it's my front passenger side tire.
You'll be fine to drive back home, I'll fill it up then, baby.
You leave it be for around thirty minutes as you and Robin think of what you should say next.
So Robin said I should go get it checked out and we were worried I wouldn't be able to drive all the way to your shop so I came to the one by her house.
I didn't know air was so expensive 😫. 
It was no more than a second later that your phone started to ring in your hands. Eddie's contact photo lighting up the screen. You swiped it away and you could feel Robin beginning to silently laugh 
Sweetheart, answer the phone.
Another call that you decline.
What do you mean expensive? Answer your phone!!!
Don't worry, Eds, the guy gave me a good deal! I think it's bc he thought I was pretty.
What do you mean by a good deal? Sweetheart, how much did you pay?
You and Robin can hardly contain your laughter. Tears are running down your faces. 
"I feel so bad, but it's so funny!" You cry. 
Robin nods along, "Don't, it's totally hilarious." She wipes her tears away and points at your phone, "Don't acknowledge those questions yet, say something about how he didn't notice the pretty comment."
You get to typing, fingers gliding over the keyboard.
Wow, I would have thought you'd be upset at another man...
Baby ,that is the last thing I'm worried about. HOW. MUCH. DID. YOU. PAY.
Well he said it was like premium air so it was on the more expensive end but apparently it won't seep out as fast as regular air.
You can see the read receipt and the three little dots as he begins to type. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as the typing stops and he calls you again only for you to ignore it once more. 
Robin is beside you, howling as she holds her stomach. "This is the best thing I have EVER witnessed in my life!"
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE. HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND? BECAUSE PREMIUM AIR ISN'T REAL
So the guy said it's usually 250 for all 4 but he said he'd give me a deal and give me all 4 for the price of 3... is that not how much it usually is?
You need to tell me what shop you're at. Are you still there? Put me on the phone with this fucking guy
Eddie, I'm not putting you on the phone with him.
Sweetheart, why in the world would you take your car to someone else??? I'm literally a mechanic. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE!! 
Are you mad at me?
No, I'm not mad at you baby. I just need you to put me on the phone with the shop owner or someone, anyone. Air in all 4 tires is never gonna be over like 5 bucks...
I told you I'd take care of it, why didn't you just listen 
You almost double over, laughing harder than before. You could tell you were stressing him out, that he was trying to keep from freaking out. 
"Oh my god!" You cackle, "I think it's time to break it to him or else he might actually have a heart attack or maybe an aneurysm. 
Eddie calls you one last time and this time, you answer, sushing Robin as you press the speaker button. 
"Thank fuck, Sweetheart, put me on the phone with the asshole that scared you." His face was gruff, the growl of irritation bringing a shiver lust down your spine. 
"Eddie, baby, calm down." 
"I'll calm down when I get you your money back," he huffs. You can hear the sounds of his shop muffled through the speaker. 
You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips when you make eye contact with Robin. 
"This is not funny," he stresses. 
The giggles continue to bubble up, "I know I know, but I can't help it. I love you so much."
"I love you too, now please let me talk to the guy, I really don't wanna ask again." 
Robin takes your phone at that point, clearing her throat and proceeding to do her best impression of a blue collar man.
"Hey, this is Rodger, at you just got pranked garage, how can I help you?"
"Yeah, you can help me, I-" Eddie stops mid sentence. 
You've got your hand covering your mouth as you try, and fail, to cover your chortles.
"Wait a second... Robin?" All the building anger in his voice disappears as he slowly realizes what's happening.
Robin begins wheezing as you grab your phone back, "We got you!" You gleefully exclam into the phone.
"We got you good!" Robing teeters back on her legs, almost falling from the couch.
You can hear the shaky sigh of relief fron the receiver on the other end. "Thank God. Baby you had me going crazy over here. I was about to drive to every garage in town to find you."
"I'm so so so sorry, baby. I really am but we didn't do anything for April fools like we usually do and I just knew you wouldn't be expecting this."
Eddie lets out the longest sigh of relief you've ever heard. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting too old for these pranks."
"You're 35." You deadpan.
"And it's all down hill from here."
You can't see it but you know he has a shit eating grin on and you roll your eyes. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."
"You better."
522 notes · View notes
darknight3904 · 4 months
Text
See You in the Morning, Coryo
Tumblr media
𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴄʟɪᴍᴀx ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ. ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ᴄʜᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴜᴘ. ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴇxʏ ᴡᴀʏ, ꜱᴀᴅʟʏ.
The first time you met him you were 12. It was only your fourth day at the Capitol's Academy and you wished you could go home and bury yourself in your bed and never return. You had yet to meet anyone interested in being friends with you, the homeschooled freak who started oh so late compared to her peers. Sure, you had met Arachne and Festus at big lavish parties your parents threw but that didn't mean they liked you.
And then, on your fourth day of school, everything changes. Big blue eyes are fixated on the overly large sandwich and fruit bowl that had been in your lunch bag. A soft gurgle of a hungry stomach fills your ears and you turn to see a boy with the prettiest blonde curls atop his head staring at you.
"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." You ask, picking up a strawberry and holding it out to him.
He hesitates for a moment but eventually reaches out and takes a small bite.
"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask
"I already ate it." He said
Something inside you said he was lying and so you offered the rest of the fruit to him. Your sandwich would be enough for today, after all, no one should go hungry if another had something else to give.
You chat with the boy with blue eyes and pretty blonde curls. His name is Coriolanus Snow and he lives with his Grandma'am and his cousin. You smile at him as he eats the fruit, savoring the taste of the grapes that were mixed in. As you sit beside your new friend, you smile to yourself and hope he'll be your friend tomorrow too.
"You're not leaving. I won't let you."
Coriolanus knows how bad it sounds. He knows you're angry when you go to step around him and he blocks your path. Your engagement ring feels like a brick as it sits in his shirt pocket.
"Coryo. Move. I'm going home." You say, determined to get away from him.
Where do you think you're running off to? You have no place in society besides your spot next to him.
"You can't. You have to stay here. With me." He insists, hoping his softer tone will change your silly little mind.
"Please, Coriolanus. Just let me go home for tonight. I'll come back tomorrow. I promise." You whisper.
He hates that. Coriolanus. Why are you calling him that? He's always been Coryo to you why are you changing it now? The way his full name lingers in the air makes his blood boil.
Rage is something that's hard to control. Coriolanus has seen it first hand when the Districts rebelled against the Capitol all those years ago. He saw it Dr. Gaul when Lucy Gray survived her snakes thanks to him. He sees it now, in you as you give him a hard shove to his shoulders and begin moving toward the door.
Rage. That's why he does it. It's something he and so many others can't control. Rage. What a funny concept it is, how it causes someone to think so irrationally.
Truly though, you are to blame for it all. If only you had just talked to him rationally. taking off your ring and throwing a fit, demanding to go home like you're some petulant child who needs a nap.
Perhaps this will change your attitude, after all, you couldn't just run off, he needed you.
There's an ache in the back of your skull when you finally open your eyes. A soft blanket is covering you and the soft scent of apples and cinnamon is wafting through the air.
"This is your favorite, right?"
A voice that used to bring a smile to your face now sends a jolt of fear down your spine as you quickly sit up.
Coriolanus is sitting in a plush-looking chair, with your favorite candle burning on a little side table next to him.
What the hell had he done to you?
"You sat up too quickly. There's some painkillers on the nightstand if you want them." He says
His voice is so calm as you gradually take in your new surroundings.
"Where am I?" You croak, your voice sounds terrible.
"You're still in our mansion. This is the basement. Part of it anyway. Over the past two weeks, I got them to transform a section of it into a room perfect for you." He says, closing the book in his lap.
Weeks? How long had it been since that dinner when you tried to leave? What the hell had even happened? The last thing you clearly remember was shoving Coriolanus and beginning to walk away. Had he hit you with something? But then how did he keep you down for two weeks so he could bring you here?
"You're wondering what happened. I'm not proud of it but I hit you with a serving tray before you could leave."
Your mind briefly conjures up the silver trays that the food you often enjoyed was served on.
"I had a doctor give you injections to keep you asleep until this room was ready. The headache you feel is the hangover from the drugs, not a concussion. I made sure he gave you an exam and he's cleared you from any injuries."
Corionus' explanation is making your brain ache. What the fuck was happening? Why are you in a basement bedroom instead of your normal one? When was he going to let you out? Would he ever let you out?
Your stomach gurgles and you just barely make it to the small garbage can that's sitting on the ground next to the bed.
"Ah, the doctor said vomiting was another side effect. I'm sure it will pass soon." Coriolanus says, unbothered as you heave up whatever gunk he had gotten the doctor to pump into your stomach.
You wipe your face with the back of your hand, wishing for something to take away the burning at the back of your throat.
"Alright. Since you're awake now, I'll be leaving. Lots of meetings today and the arena is nearly ready I just have to approve a few more things." Coriolanus says, standing up and fixing his tie as he begins to walk away.
"Wait." You groan, trying to reach out to him
"I'll be back for dinner. I know how much you love to listen to me talk about my day."
Two months later
There's been a certain warmness about you recently. Perhaps it's the flowers he brought you your maybe the fact that he takes the heavy chain off your ankle when he visits you. He decides it's the latter as he watches thumb through the new books he handed you.
"Do you like them?" He asks
"Yes." You smile as you gently place them on your shelf.
You're so effortlessly pretty, even here, locked away from the sunlight and every inch of society. Here, you're all his, every bit of you hinges on him opening the heavy metal door that keeps you here. It's been so long since you had even tried to argue or fight back against him. Sure, the beginning had been rough, you had thrown things at him and had at one point threatened him with a butter knife but now you we so docile. Almost like he had domesticated a wild animal and now it was trained perfectly.
"Could you bring the little cakes tonight?" You ask
"The ones with the powdered sugar on top?"
You nod as you sit on your bed, stretching out your right ankle which is marked with a heavy bruise from the chain he had to put on you. It wasn't what he wanted but after you tried attacking him when he entered the room on the second day of your enclosure, he knew it was a necessity.
"I'll have the chef make extra. We can eat as many as you like and get fat." He teases
You smile at him but he can see something else behind your eyes.
Sadness.
You remind him of a bird with clipped wings. Freedom so effortlessly in reach but unable to fly to reach it.
If only he could trust you enough to let you back into the main floors of the mansion.
Time passes slowly whenever Coriolanus is gone and it gives you time to think. You were going mad, chained up all day, waiting for him to bring you your meals and sit with you at night. So in an effort to chase your impending insanity away, you thought. You thought about your childhood and if things would be different had you never given Coriolanus that stupid bowl of fruit. Perhaps you'd be head of your father's company now, or maybe you'd be married to some elite capitol man.
Your mind was always racing, overanalyzing every little thing and every little mistake you had ever made.
Perhaps you should've never confronted him about those pictures. If you had just slipped out of the mansion one day what would had happened? Maybe he would've caught you or perhaps you would've made it back to your parents, back to your old life and self.
How naive you had been at that gala years ago, thinking that you didn't need anything but Coriolanus. What a stupid girl you had grown up to be.
The past few weeks had been rough. You had been sucking up to Coriolanus to be let back into the main part of the mansion. You claimed to just want to feel sunlight again. Of course, you also planned on running the moment you had an opening but he didn't need to know that half.
Coriolanus was simply insane, it was a conclusion you had come to after all these long days. Maybe he had always been like this but you were just too blind to see it. Maybe his nice gestures and honey-coated words had disguised the monster that lurked behind those eyes. All you knew was that he was the worst man in all of Panem and here you sat, suffering all because you were his favorite.
"My heart burns for you."
What a load of bullshit.
He stays true to his word and arrives that night for dinner, cakes in hand. Silenced Avoxes serve you your food and Coriolanus sits across from you at the table that had mysteriously appeared one night when you were asleep. The chain on your ankle made an unpleasant sound as you shifted in your seat.
"The salmon is nice, isn't it?" Coriolanus asks as he eats
"Yes, it's wonderful. Very buttery." You say, struggling to find exactly what was good about it.
You didn't want salmon, you didn't really want anything anymore, perhaps you were finally giving into whatever game he was playing by keeping you here.
"I've decided to replace the curtains throughout the mansion. I've found the blue to be a bit ugly. Tomorrow there will be beautiful maroon ones hung." He informs you
You had hand-picked the blue ones, years ago.
"I'm sure they will be beautiful." You say looking down at your lap.
Coriolanus stops chewing and sets his silverware down.
"If you're going to mock me, you shouldn't even open your mouth. You know I hate it when you're full of attitude so why do you still try?" He says
It's a warning. You know it, he knows it.
"I know. I was being serious." You say, "I hope I get to see the maroon curtains soon, Coriolanus."
"Coryo." He corrects, placing a bite of food in his mouth
"Coryo." You parrot.
He smiles, pleased with you.
"You will, soon."
Dinner passes slowly as you finish your salmon to the tune of Coriolanus' talking. Something about the latest games being a wonderful success and that the big finale would be either tomorrow or the next. He suggests you watch on the little TV that sits in the corner, untouched, it was something that was added a week ago, specifically so you could watch the games. You promise to watch and he smiles at you again.
Coriolanus bids you goodnight after dessert. He double-checks your chain before straightening up and gently kissing your forehead.
"Goodnight, darling. I'll see you in the morning."
"See you in the morning, Coryo."
The past week had been going nearly perfectly for Coriolanus. Not only had the games been perfect, but you had been impressing him. Sure, a few days ago at dinner you had called him Coriolanus and he nearly lost his cool after he thought you insulted the curtains but that was behind him now.
He had finally concluded that he'd release you from the basement. He missed your presence in the mansion and at the normal dinner table. He wasn't quite sure about letting you have full roam yet, perhaps he'd sedate you during the days and let you walk around at night, when he could personally keep an eye on you before bedtime. The idea of one of the Axoxes watching you didn't sit right, after all, if you ran what would they do? They couldn't even shout for help to bring you back inside.
He was positively giddy as he walked down the many flights of steps that led to where you were. He wanted to show you the greenhouse first. Sure, you had seen it before but the way the roses were blooming recently was simply too good to pass up. He had planted new ones recently too, blushing pink ones that reminded him of you and your warmness to him.
The metal door was cool against his palm as he opened it to reveal your darkened room. The door let out a heavy groan as it shut behind him.
It wasn't uncommon for you to be sleeping when he entered, he often visited during the night and would watch you, as if you were going to disappear. However, this time the darkness confused him. It was the middle of the day, surely you weren't still asleep?
The soft clink of that ridiculous chain filled his ears as he stepped towards the lamp that sat on your shelf.
"Are you hiding from me, darling?" He asked into the darkness, ready to scoop you up and hold you close.
Silence answered his question as his eyes tried to focus on anything.
The softest rustle of fabric fills his ears as he quickly turns to his right. The slightest shimmer of color reaches his eyes, illuminated by what little light wormed its way under the door. It's you, in that sweater you often wore.
"I see you." He says reaching out to what he thinks might be your arm. "What a pretty shade of blue that is. I'll have a designer make a dress in that color for you."
He swears he hears you whisper his name but perhaps it was just in his head as he steps forward.
Coriolanus feels the smile that was on his face drop into his stomach when he hears it again, the rustle of fabric. You were behind him now.
His hands twitch one, then twice, and before he can react, you're there, in front of him again, anger polluting your pretty face.
His lips form your name but it never leaves his mouth. Instead, the cool metal of that chain he had intended on removing was cutting his vocal cords off.
The chain he hated putting on you, the chain you had desperately tried to claw off many times as he watched through a grainy video feed was rapidly wrapping its way around his neck, ready to destroy him.
Next Part
Series Masterlist
Taglist:
@deadlymouse123 @daddiejaehyun @minmin1328 @justacaliforniandreamer @qardasngan @ace-spades-1 @xybil @piceous21 @lecl3rcw @aoi-targaryen @spidey-3 @edb954@alicentury @whorefortim @zanzie @devils-blackrose @nefertiti2003 @callsignwidow @eveyez-exe @babygallori-38
@m-ichelles-world @multifandomdiva @unmagically @anthonys-viscountess @illusvy @winterblu2 @fr0ggieth1nk @skzstan12345
@soph3333 @louiszeastronaut @myworldgoesboomz @bogbutteronmycroissant @coriolanussnowswife @jackquinnswife @mel3484 @weeeoosworld @bobabubblebuttbitch @user021099
@violetkiz-xoxo22 @astrocytes-axon @flu0re @head-slut-in-charge
@insomniacbat @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @marvel-asgard @honey-bees-13 @mashathestarx @corpsebridenightamare
@hanyunn @everyonelovesava @danicl25 @pathalogical-people-peaser-13 @juskonutoh @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry
@katherines-imagines @stelleduarte @snowtargaryen @imnotafishimamermaid @marecaltrashhh @livingdead-reilly
690 notes · View notes
assexpansion · 2 months
Text
I'm becoming increasingly aware that half my followers are odd ducks who like expansion (in one form or another), and the other half are femboys! Whoever you are, welcome! Feel free to send requests. I'll eventually get around to writing them.
Tumblr media
653 notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 4 months
Note
MAFIA!GHOST HAS ME WHEEZING CRYING RUNNING IN LAPS 😭🏃🏼‍♀️😩
imagine reader working in a shop that borders on the territory of another crime group, and said crime group sends their muscle to threaten reader to pay up and ghost hears about this
cue to him literally risking a gang war by beating the men up who threatened reader, ultimately marking her as “his girl” (for better and for worse, because being seen an his makes everyone else back away but also puts a target on her back and make her his weakness 🥴😭😩💕)
YES YES YES AHHHH ready for some more mafia!Simon lore?
see, the thing about our sweet ghost boy is that he is really good at fighting. violence is his specialty. back when he still did blue collar work, before he ever joined up with John, he used to do underground boxing. illegal, of course, because nothing legal ever pays good enough lmao. people would place bets and he would get a portion of the winnings, plus whatever tips anyone would toss his way. thing was, he never lost. not even when people fought dirty. he's quick, smart, brutish, he knows his shit.
so imagine when these goons try and threaten his girl? oh no. no, that won't fucking fly at all. and these punks think they have the upper hand. sure, he's a big guy, but three men against one? come on, the odds aren't in his favor at all. so they're especially surprised when they've got broken teeth, bones, bloody noses, ringing ears, you fucking name it, he's given them that ailment. everyone around him looks on in horror as he leans over the pained men.
"you got a problem, next time come straight to me. if i ever see you around my girl again, i'll fuckin' kill you. yeah?"
and when they eventually flee, you're freaking the fuck out. his knuckles! it looks like he got an elbow to the eye! that was one of the scariest things you ever saw! and you're trying to drag him to the back, trying to force ice onto his face and he of course listens because it's you.
"it's nothing, sweetheart, really."
maybe this is how shy!reader finds out simon's in the mafia lmao. but UGH i love the knight in shining armor trope i could write that shit for the rest of my life <3 i'm so glad you're enjoying it!
643 notes · View notes
leviismybby · 2 months
Text
Poison
Tumblr media
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, slight nsfw, angst, kind of toxic?
It's quiet, the room echoed of your soft moans and his grunts. You hold onto him tightly, your legs wrapped around his hips, his thrusts passionate. He can feel your warm walls squeezing around him, his hands holding you tightly against his body. "Fuck....I am close.." You hear Levi whisper, his lips trafe your neck before he bites, his cock slamming into you faster. It sends a shiver up your spine, a loud whine escaping your swollen lips.
Levi's lips move from your neck to your jaw and then to your lips, he kisses you sloppily. The passionate thrusts slow down, your pussy clamps down on him as you cum and that's all Levi needs, he pulls out of you just in time and cums all over your sweaty stomach, his head falling on your chest. It takes a few seconds for both of you to settle down, he opens his eyes when you run your hand through his hair.
You two lay like that for a little bit, just enjoying the feeling of each others skin. Eventually, Levi pulls back and looks at you. "We made a fucking mess. Stay I'll be right back." Nodding at his words, you smile as you watch him walk over to his dresser, his hair was a mess and his back had your scratches down his back. He grabs a towel and walks back over to you, without a word, he cleans up your stomach, gently wiping it off. He takes thay time to scan your body up and down, admiring the love bites that he left on your skin.
"You okay?" He asks, Levi knows that he can be rough in bed and he would hate himself if he hurt you accidentally. "All good." You give him a smile that he doesn't return, he never does. Levi nods and stands up before getting dressed, you feel yourself wanting to say something, ask him to stay but it's useless, you won't change his mind. "You're leaving already?" It slips out anyway and you hate how desperate you sound for him to stay.
"Got things to do." His attention isn't on you, he is too focused on getting dressed and adjusting his straps. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating his skin which soon gets covered by the white fabric of his shirt. He uses your mirror to tie his cravat and fix his hair, by the time he is done, it's like you two never had sex.
Sitting up in bed, you sigh pulling the sheets over your naked body. "We have to talk about it eventually, Levi." There you go again, speaking before thinking, this catches Levi's attention and he turns to look at you while putting on his uniform jacket. "About what?" He knows, he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. "Us, this. All of it." You didn't want to sound angry but it comes out that way, you're frustrated with him and whatever it is going on between you.
Levi rolls his eyes and then sits on the bed to put his boots on. "Told you already, nothing to talk about." It's now your turn to roll your eyes, of course he acts this way when you get to him and you do get to him, more than he would like to admit. "Nothing? Is that way you always run away from it?" You will regret this, you can already tell. "I don't fucking run away from anything. There is nothing to run away from." A slight 'tch' leaves his lips as he stands up from your bed and then looks at you. "Don't fucking push it." He turns around to open the door but something stops him.
"What? Is the door locked?" The sarcasm in your voice makes the tension between you all the more noticeable. Levi doesn't have to turn around to know that you're tearing up, he hates hurting you, it's like a hundred titans bite him all at ones anytime he hurts your feelings. But he can't, there's too much at risk and you deserve better. Its already enough that he gives himself to you for those few hours of passion.
Levi turns around to look at you. "What are the tears for?" His voice is indifferent as if he is talking to anyone, a solider under his command, a stranger on a street, not you. "Nothing." You wipe them off with your hand but another wave of then keeps coming and you feel yourself tearing up again. "Good." He says. "Crying won't change my mind, nor make me stay. I told you that before." You shake your head, you feel like an idiot. "I don't care." The words coming out if your mouth meaning nothing with those tears in your eyes. "Neither do I." And with that he is out of your room, slamming the door behind him.
He made you cry a 100 times before, hurt your feeling a 100 times more but you'll always keep coming back to him. He was poison, venom that keeps going through your veins and no matter how hard you try, you'll never get rid of it.
689 notes · View notes
forpiratereasons · 4 months
Text
i found a genre of longform videos that is just 8-10 hours of someone driving around freeways during thunderstorms and i have a lot of thoughts about this but also: stede the driver who films long pov driving vids and extremely stressed ed who gets addicted to his channel
it's meditative, and it reminds ed of being in the car with his mum, driving across aotearoa. he feels like she's there with him sometimes. but the more he watches, the more he becomes aware of the driver--a sigh here, the shuffle of fabric in the seat there.
there's almost no information about him on his channel, the gentleman driver, not even a name or a pic, and ed becomes a little fixated on picking up details about him. doesn't happen often, but once or twice ed catches the driver humming a few beats before falling silent again, clearing a throat, sighing, clicking his throat like he's talking silently to himself.
once, on hour six of a ten hour vid, ed's rewarded by the view of an elegant hand reaching across the screen to grab something that must be on the dash in front of the camera. four seconds ed plays over and over.
"is there someone in the car with you while you drive?" ed asks in a comment. "or is it just you?"
the gentleman driver writes back, "just me and the open road!"
maybe it's the format that makes ed ask, the anonymity. maybe he's just half asleep. "don't you ever get lonely?"
it's days before the gentleman driver writes back again. "do you?"
ed's not got an answer for that. or, he does, but not one he's willing to face head on. he asks instead how the gentleman driver chooses his routes.
the driver doesn't get very many comments and definitely not very many questions, and soon they're having little conversations in the comments of every video. ed gets another glimpse of that elegant hand, with a big turquoise ring, freckled forearm; hears another few bars of 'here comes the sun' hummed.
then the driver does something new: he stops at a rest stop.
and he leaves the camera rolling.
ed watches in rapt fascination as the driver crosses the screen in front of the car, goes into the rest stop. blond hair, broad shoulders, floral shirt. he's actually wearing jeans for an eight hour drive which is insane, and ed gets a glimpse of his profile as he smiles. insane.
if the driver's ever stopped before, it's been very carefully edited out. maybe he forgot this one. maybe he wanted ed to see. that's delusional, ed thinks, but he still navigates to the driver's about page and pokes around until he finds an email address.
nice shirt, he sends.
oh god, the driver sends back, and the video disappears from his page half an hour later. i forgot the editing. i'm sorry if it was distracting.
no, i liked it, ed tells him. it was nice to see the man behind the steering wheel. and then, hesitating only a bit, he adds: i'm ed.
hello, the driver writes. i'm stede.
the emails go on, and on, and eventually they turn into texts too, and promises from stede to check in on his longer drives, to "call if you ever need someone to keep you awake."
"i'm supposed to be sending you to sleep," stede argues.
"i'll sleep better knowing that you're safe," ed writes back.
the next video stede posts, he lets the camera run all the way until he's pulled into a parking spot at a roadside motel just outside of denver. the camera runs one minute, then five, and any reasonable person would've turned it off by now, but ed waits until he hears, very quietly: "safe and sound, now. go to sleep. goodnight."
is it stupid, to think you can fall in love with someone after just one sentence? is it still stupid, if that one sentence repeats at the end of every new video?
then one night the phone rings. it's late, dark out, and ed knows stede was doing a drive that wouldn't have him at his next stop until nearly one in the morning. he picks up. "hello?"
"oh, ed," the voice says. "you've no idea how good you sound just now."
it's a voice he's only heard before in hums and whispers, but it doesn't matter. lots of things about love are stupid, ed decides. this isn't one of them.
stede's blown a tire. "i'm okay," he insists. "i was just hoping for some company while i wait for the tow."
"where are you?"
"middle of nowhere," stede says, but when he names the spot, it's only two hours out. ed can be there faster than a tow probably would, and there's a note of anxiety in stede's voice he doesn't much like.
he's got his shoes on and his keys in his hand before he can think twice.
stede hems and haws but in all his fussing he doesn't actually tell ed not to come, and he stays on the line while ed piles blankets in the car and as he gets behind the wheel and as he sets out on the freeway. he stays on the line and they talk until they're both creaky with exhaustion and dry air, and then they're quiet, just like in stede's videos, but together this time. then ed crests over a hill and there it is: a car pulled off to the side with its hazard lights blinking. reminds ed of a lighthouse. 'i'm here,' the lights say. 'i'm here.'
he pulls to a stop behind, starts his own hazards. the driver side door of the car opens, and then there's a leg, and a body, and there he is. stede. he's still got his phone pressed to his ear; ed can hear him breathing.
"i'm going to get out," ed says.
"okay," stede says.
it takes another long moment, watching stede stand there in the dark, waiting for him. stede, with his hair and his voice and his hands and the way the quiet in him already feels like home.
"i might kiss you," ed says.
he watches stede swallow, hard. eyes widen. "okay," he says.
ed reaches for the handle. pops the door open. puts one foot out on the pavement and looks up to meet stede's eyes as his cabin lights come on, as the car starts to ding its door-open warning.
"oh," stede says.
ed takes a step. they both still have their phones in their hands, their breathes in each other's ear. ed takes a step and takes a step until he can reach out to take stede's phone from him. press the call end button.
"hi," he says.
stede kisses him.
after that there are other, shyer hellos, and other, more awkward ones too. there are ten minutes to a 24-hour macdo drive-thru for coffee and another ten to a motel and a late night that becomes an early morning by way of conversation. there's laughter, and more kisses, and careful fingers learning the planes of each other's faces. in the morning there's breakfast and a tow truck and an invitation to a place just two hours away.
and there's a long break in updates to the gentleman driver's channel.
when he comes back, weeks later, his update schedule isn't quite as frequent, and his drives don't usually go as far. there's giggles sometimes, in the background, like there might be someone else in the car with him.
"do you miss it," ed asks. "driving the long drives?"
"no," stede says. "i found what i was looking for."
*
@ kninjaknitter also podficced this one!
608 notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 2 months
Note
Kcc "ky,no,thats just for childs" shopping center
changed the wording up just a smidge for kidsII k.cooney cross
"babe are you done now?" you rolled your eyes at the whine from outside, fixing the top of the dress you were trying on and looking at yourself in the mirror.
"no! just sit patiently ky." you chuckled at the groan which followed, kyra slumping back down into the chair and tapping her feet, already bored of everything on her phone as her eyes roamed the store.
you'd warned her when you'd made the plans to go shopping that she shouldn't come, knowing how easily she got bored and detested shopping for the most part.
but kyra still insisted on accompanying you, though as she sat waiting in what felt like the 100th store she was starting to regret her decision. you had a family wedding coming up and needed to find something to wear, and kyra should have known you'd test out every possible option before deciding on anything.
"what do you think?" her attention snapped up as you stepped out of the change rooms, twirling as a smile settled on her lips. "i think you look gorgeous babe, just like you did in the last five." kyra complimented as you shot her a playful glare.
"i've got two more to try on and then we're done." you promised sending her a smile as she sighed in relief, tapping her lips as you rolled your eyes but pecked them anyway.
"good! i can't wait to go home." kyra sighed happily as you gave her a funny look. "done in this store baby, not done done." you corrected before pulling the change room curtains shut as your girlfriend let out a long and tired groan.
it was two hours later that kyra's thin veil of patience disappeared all together.
"kyra. two more stores! come on." you held your hand out and wiggled your fingers as she shook her head, rooted to the spot with her arms crossed and a scowl.
"you've already bought two options, pick one and lets go." kyra huffed, holding the car keys captive in her pocket as you shook your head. "i warned you i'd be awhile and you still insisted on coming, you're being a child!" you warned as the girl shrugged.
"alright, fine." she turned on heel as you exhaled and started to follow after her, not really having much of a choice since she also insisted on carrying your bag which had your phone and wallet in it.
"what are you doing?" you asked deadpan as she stopped and sat down on a childrens carousel, far too large for the small firetruck she somehow squeezed herself into.
"ky no, those are for kids." you warned as she shrugged unbothered, wiggling her way in until she was comfortable. "well if i'm acting like a child then its fine. you go shopping, i'll be here going around and around until you're done!" your girlfriend tapped her card to start the carousel as you stared in disbelief.
"you are unbelievable." you sighed, grabbing your bag off of her as she span past and held it out before walking off and leaving her behind.
but as she did with nearly everything, kyra eventually grew bored of the carousel, having rode it around and around for about half an hour still with no sign of you returning. but as the ride eventually came to a stop, kyra was met with yet another problem.
a grunt came from her mouth as she tried to pull herself out of the small firetruck but found she could only get one leg out, the other wedged inside as the australian let out a groan.
"kyra? ky!" the midfielder winced hearing some new voices call out her name, glancing over her shoulder to see charli and a couple of her spurs teammates making their way over.
quickly jumping back in to save face kyra plastered a smile on her face and waved as the girls arrived. "why are you sitting on a kids ride?" charli snickered as kyra shrugged.
"girlfriends shopping, we've been here since ten." kyra groaned as charli grinned, her friends excusing themselves to wander into a nearby jewelry store.
"let me guess, she told you not to come but you did anyway?" charli smiled knowingly as kyra rolled her eyes but her lack of answer was enough of an answer anyway.
"and, you're stuck. aren't you?" charli's smile widened as kyra stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but failing to do so hung her head. "yes." the brunette mumbled as charli's laugh echoed around and kyra reached out to smack her.
"shut up!" kyra warned with a huff, her best friends laughs dying down to chuckles as she stepped in to try and help, arms hooking under her elbows and trying to pull her out to no avail.
"charli?" the blonde glanced over her shoulder seeing you stood with a bag in hand and a confused look in her eyes. "kyras stuck!" the australian grinned gleefully as kyra groaned and punched her in the arm.
"didn't i tell you these were for kids?" you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment as you came closer, your girlfriend avoiding your gaze all together, apparently the only one who felt sorry for herself.
"right, you grab her knee, i'll grab her arms." you dropped your bag on the floor with the rest of them kyra had stayed with and sighed, you and charli moving positions and counting down.
nodding you both started to pull and tug at the midfielder, ignoring her constant overdramatic whines of pain, both of you telling her to shut up and reminding the only person who was really to blame was kyra herself.
eventually a few people had gathered, clearly catching onto what was happening as a couple of security guards were next to follow, charli's friends returning and watching on in amusement as you and charli stepped aside and the guards took over.
with their much larger forms and kyra falling silent at the manhandling, face burning red with embarrassment as you took a few photos, kyra's ears heating up as eventually she was freed and the small crowd clapped.
nodding her head at the stern warnings from centre management not to do anything like that again the crowd was dispersed and everyone went about their day, charli and her friends also heading off after teasing kyra who huffed and hung her head in shame.
"come on babe, lets go home." you grinned, tugging on your girlfriends hoodie as she wandered beside you with her arms crossed, having pulled her hood over her head as a means to try and disguise herself.
"careful, don't get stuck." you quipped teasingly as kyra slid into the car and shot you a glare, clicking her seatbelt in with a huff as you loaded your bags in the back and did the same.
"stop pouting! its your own fault you idiot." you laughed, leaning across the console to press a few kisses to the brunettes jutted out lips before shifting the car into drive.
"babe you sent the videos to the entire team!?"
419 notes · View notes
oncomingnight · 9 months
Text
Yandere! Fashion Designer
As a black hispanic writer, i thought that it was finally time to write a hispanic character. I hope you guys enjoy this piece, i'm much more confident with this post as it's a culture i'm familiar with. Please never feel afraid to talk/send requests in my ask box.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Matías has always had a crystal clear vision of what his future was meant to be. He knew he wanted to get an education in fashion, pursue a career in that subject, live in a townhouse in the middle of a metropolitan area, have two or so cats whose only jobs were to tear up his carpet. He's always wanted to fall in love, as well. But, for some reason he thought love would not fit with the career path he was choosing and he wouldn't have enough time for another person everyday. But, as he grew older from when he first started his career, he realized how disgustingly wrong he was. The poisonous thoughts in his head were, "well to be one of the greats I'll have to lay off of the need for love." All of the people who inspired him seemed to have gone down that road but he soon realized that didn't mean he had to aswell.
He was always portrayed in the media as a tortured artist that was depraved of love, but, look! He's an icon and he's fine with the lack of affection in his life. But that couldn't have been even more wrong. He desperately wanted for a person on the side of his painfully empty bed, someone to share thousands of mornings with, someone to go grocery shopping with, someone to warm him seats, somebody to love.
Eventually, he set his wide brown eyes on you. The two of you met at an event made for people with careers in the creative passage. His gaze settled on you explaining the backstory behind your ceramic sets, intriguing buyers with your magnifying words. He was struck with slight by your celestial appearance but he took his chance to speak with you and walked on over.
As the conversation progressed he realized you, surprisingly, didn't know who he was! And yet, you weren't condescending or disrespectful about it, you showed your feelings of interest and asked deep rooted questions about his work. This one interaction attracted him to you and he counted himself lucky that you wanted to continue talking, giving him your personal number.
Was he giddy about the fact it was your personal number and not your business number? Yes.
He called you at all times of the day in which you were available, asking you personal questions and crossing his fingers that you wouldn't get put off for his intense need for human connection, and guess what? You stayed.
He invited you to one of his annual fashion shows where tons of loved celebrities were present. In his thoughts, this was the perfect setting for him to ask you to be strictly his. After the two of you had a delicious dinner at the same table in which several movie stars were sat, he asked you to be his girlfriend. He had to suppress the urge to kiss you right then and there when you said yes. He could've since the both of you were now in a private setting, but, he needed it to be a separate and even more special occasion.
From that day on, he never faltered in his immense love and utter obsession he had for you. When he finished a fashion sketch and started picking out the fabrics for his project, he would ask you to be his model. Wrapping measuring tape around your waist, purchasing silks that complimented your skin tone. Magazine editors, journalists and critics found the fact that every original piece of his was so clearly modeled for + by you, the best romantic partnership story in the history of fashion.
At the end of every show of his, the both of you would walk out hand in hand. Except, you were wearing the one and only original clothing piece from one of his most popular fashion collections. Your job wasn't a professional model but that didn't stop him from treating you as such. In and out of work.
During interviews, he'd get questioned if he'd let anyone else be the model for his beginning sketches for the purpose of range.
"Well, I do have range. That's the main thing I'm known for, the complexity of my collections and designs. I'm the professional here so I'd rather listen to advice from me than you, thank you." The question he was asked wasn't necessarily harmful towards you, but that didn't stop Matías from fighting tooth and nail for you. Why? Well, put yourself in the shoes of a man head over heels in love.
Whilst on vacations together, you'd get self conscious of all the money he was spending on you. Did he really have to spend all that money on shopping for the highest quality clothing for you? In his mind, yes! It's his money so let him spend it the way he wants.
He makes clothing specifically for you, never letting you taint yourself with the filthy clothing made by other people. He takes great pride in seeing you decked out in the stuff he made while you were in his mind. Embroidery, colors, silk, chiffon, jersey, wool; he took all of your favorite things into consideration as he crafted his best work for you.
As the two of you drive around in the safe Cadillac he bought specifically for your honeymoon in Marseille, France, he can't help but think about how he's going to drown you with gifts and delicious foods before desserts later on that day. Will you get anxious of all the money he's spending? Yes. But he'll reassure you. He's THE Matías Herrera. He's spending money while his bank account is getting filled to the brim every second.
He's taking you to oyster restaurants, booking a private spa day just for you, getting down on his knees to put your shoes on your feet, feeding you tortellini, zipping up your silk dress from behind, putting the morganite-stoned necklace on you, quickly going for a coffee run and coming back up to your shared hotel room with your order before you wake up.
Before the two of you got married, he took you to meet his mother and father in the home he paid off for them. Not wanting to seem disrespectful and show up empty handed, you baked some sweets for them and wrote them a letter in your appreciation for their son. Because of that, they knew they were going to adore you as a daughter-in-law. As soon as you walked into their cozy residence, the aroma of freshly cooked food hit your nose. They prepared delicious traditional Mexican cuisine, consisting of menudo and mole with a side of chopped up onions, cilantro and tomatoes. That night, a shared love sparked between you and your soon to be in-laws. His parents shared words of appreciation towards you and you couldn't have been happier.
At your wedding, Matías couldn't help but sob at the sight of you as you walked down the aisle. The stream tears didn't falter even as he recited his vows that he had written a year ago. Your wedding was so emotional in the most beautiful way, causing people in the crowd to grab at tissues to hide their tears.
From all of the instances of him being a lovesick puppy around you, you wouldn't have even begun to think of him as a violent person. Of course, he would never be aggressive or violent towards you, but to others that he considered threats? Oh absolutely. His career gave him an understanding of the human body (all of its sensitive parts) and he's willing to use it to his sinful advantage when it comes to defending you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello everybody! I wanted to thank each and every one of you for gifting me 100 followers. I apologize very deeply because I know this may not be my best piece of work, I didn't feel very good today but I still wanted to give you guys something for being so sweet to me. Have an amazing day and night! Also, just to ramble a bit more, my yan! scientist post was inspired by seeing Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer in the movie trailer, I hope that doesn't make me weird. I'm watching the movie tomorrow and I won't be able to handle the immense amount of dread I'm going to feel after seeing it or all of the incredibly attractive actors on screen. Alright, enough about me, I'll post more tomorrow! ♡
1K notes · View notes
libraryofloveletters · 3 months
Text
With Sweet Comes Sour
Tumblr media
Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader 
Warnings: charles just wanted a peaceful valentines, so much drama and so many emotions, lots of tears, assumption of cheating (no actual cheating), weird ass exes, all the kids are in here, a few insulting terms, alcohol and the consumption of, being drunk, slight explicit content, bar brawls, blood and bruises, google translated french.
Word Count: 3.6k
Author’s Note: okay here's another piece to the series, sorry it took me forever to get this out but I didn't have any ideas until now lol. happy early valentines!
Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist 
--
The rollers stacked on her vanity as you undo the curls in her hair. Eloise was doing the final touches on her makeup as it was her first Valentines with her boyfriend, Anthony. They're going for the full cliché; movie and dinner and a stroll by the pier when they are done.
This is the first Valentine in 17 years that you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You were going to make the most of it, spending some quality alone time without your children pestering you.
You leave her to finish getting ready before going down to check on your husband. You hear the doorbell ring, and you figure it was Anthony here to pick her up so you let the boy in. Eloise comes downstairs in the meantime and you could hear her speaking to her father.
"How do I look?" She asks him; her baby pink dress sat above her knees.
The man smiles, twirling a curl that sat on her shoulder. "Très belle, ma chérie." (very beautiful, my darling.) You smiled as you watched the interaction, Anthony steps past you towards his girlfriend. He had brought her chocolates and flowers.
She kisses his cheek; young love.
He had another bouquet of flowers, Eloise sets her gifts down in the kitchen as Anthony walks to you. "For you," he hands you the roses, you smile at him.
"Thank you, sweetheart. That's very thoughtful of you," you toss a glance at your husband who definitely forgot to get you flowers.
Eloise returns a moment later, linking arms with her boyfriend. "You two be safe," Charles tells them. Anthony nods, "I'll have her back before midnight."
"Just come home safe, you're both old enough to be responsible." You say, walking them to the front door and sending them off with a wave. Your husband comes up behind you the moment the door shuts, hugging you from behind before he carries you to the couch.
"So pretty lady, what are we going to do with our empty house?" He asks, you could practically hear the mischief in his voice.
"I'm gonna order takeout and drink a whole bottle of wine," you nudged him off of you, making him groan.
Charles was hoping he'd 'get some' so to speak, seeing that the house was in fact empty and would be for hours. Eloise and Anthony wouldn't be back until after midnight, Sofia and Christopher had gone up to Marseille for the night to spend time together and Gabriel and Oliver were at some club with Georgina and Adrian for the night, so you weren't expecting anyone back anytime soon.
"This is our first valentines together, alone, in a long time," Charles tells you, watching as you sit next to him with two glasses of wine.
"I know," you tapped your glass to his gently before taking a sip.
"It's odd," he whispers into your shoulder, kissing your skin softly. You nod, "but nice. Now hurry up and pick a place, I'm starving."
"Always so charming, my love." He rolls his eyes, earning a playful nudge as he reaches for his phone. You two settled on the Italian place that Charles liked.
He put on some random movie that the two of you had started watching a few days ago and never finished. You find yourself cuddled in your husband's side, his arm wrapped around you as you two tried to figure out what was happening where you left off. Eventually, Charles gives up on the movie and focuses his attention elsewhere.
Your husband pulls you onto his lap, his hands on your hips. "What do you want?" You asked him, your own hands on his shoulders, one sliding up to the nape of his neck; his hair had been growing out, all fuzzy and tickling his skin.
"I can't give my wife some love?" He whispers into your skin, lips peppering kissing along your neck as he pulls you into him. He reached your lips, you mumbled a no before kissing him.
His hands slip under your shirt, yours tangled in his hair; you make a mental note to call your mother in law to book him a haircut.
It's like you're teenagers again, all over each other with no room to breathe.
Hands make quick work of Charles's shirt, tossing it behind you somewhere as he goes to flip the two of you over, pinning you under him just as the doorbell rings.
You can't help the giggle when your husband groans, getting up to get the door as he assumed it was the delivery man with the food.
Except he's met with an annoyed Christopher, who just rolled his eyes when he saw his father shirtless and his mother on the couch. He pushes past Charles and goes to the kitchen.
"Chris?" You called after him, seeing Sofia walk in moments later on the verge of tears and you get up, tossing Charles's shirt to him.
The brunette follows her boyfriend, not saying anything until she reaches the kitchen. There's a screaming match, the two of them switching from English to Italian and then a mix of both. Something about a restaurant and a guy or something along those lines. Sofia's holding onto Christopher's arm and he gently pulled away, walking out the front door and slamming the door shut. Charles follows behind him, probably talking him down from doing something stupid.
These damn Leclerc's and their drama.
Getting up, you walk over to Sofia and sit with her in the kitchen. "Is everything okay? We weren't expecting you two back tonight, actually, we weren't expecting you back for the entire weekend."
The girl sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I hate him."
"Me too," you nodded, rubbing her back. "What did he do this time?"
"It wasn't even him, well I mean, it was but it was me. Actually, well.. it's complicated." She says and you raise an eyebrow, unsure as to what she meant. She speaks, explaining herself. "I bumped into an old friend, and when I say old friend, I mean an old friend. I haven't seen him in like, maybe, six years because he moved from Madrid to London. He just happened to be in Marseille with his girlfriend for Valentine's Day as well."
"Okay... I'm still waiting for what was so bad about that."
"I was waiting for Christopher to get out of the bathroom when my friend noticed me and tapped me on the shoulder. We exchanged hello and exchanged pleasantries, then he kissed my cheek on the way out. Christopher being Christopher, automatically assumes the worst."
You made a face, "so Chris got mad because.. he kissed you on the cheek? Is he dumb?"
"Exactly," she grumbled and you handed her a tissue to clean up her face. "Honestly, that's how Spanish men are, though. They're always affectionate, your father is the same way. I'm certain your friend didn't mean it in the way Christopher took it."
"Even if he did, I didn't take it that way. He has a girlfriend, and regardless, I love Christopher and I would never do that to him."
"I know you wouldn't." You gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Why don't you get something to drink? I'll go see what's going on with them outside hm?" You leave her be for the moment, letting her settle her emotions.
Charles is listening to Christopher ramble, the younger Leclerc spiralling and getting himself caught up in some nonsense lie that his brain made up.
"Christopher," you call for him, stopping him from speaking. He looks at you. "What?"
"You need to apologize to her."
He makes a face, confused as to why you're telling him to apologize when he clearly did nothing wrong, or so he thinks.
"Sofia is a sweet girl, who has no control over the actions of others, and who loves you very much despite your nonsense and your dramatic flare. So you get your ass inside and apologize to your girlfriend for ruining Valentine's day. Either you drive back to Marseille or you figure out something here, because you aren't gonna ruin today for her."
"He kissed her!" He says, flinging his arms in the air. Charles's eyes widened, "what?"
It seems Christopher had left out that detail.
"On the cheek," you clarify, "and so what if he did? You kiss Georgina on the cheek all the time and Sofia doesn't get upset. This guy was just some friend of hers, you need to get over your shit and put your ego to the side because if you don't, you'll lose her."
Christopher huffed, taking in his mother's words before turning and heading inside. You and Charles followed a moment later, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation in the kitchen but eventually, they came into the living room, holding hands.
"Dad," Christopher calls for his father, the man looks over at his son. "Can you get us a hotel room? I tried to get one but everyone says they're booked."
"I can try but why would it be different for me?" He asks, clearly confused and as clueless as the day you met him. "Because you're the prince of Monaco, Charles. Now start calling." You tell your husband, getting up to answer the door - the takeout had finally arrived.
Charles tried his best to get a hotel room for the kids, and even pulled his prince of Monaco card but despite it all, it was Valentine's Day and everywhere was booked.
Sofia decided that she wanted ice cream and Christopher, doing anything to make it up to her, agreed - ignoring the fact that he hated ice cream just for tonight. You sent them off with a wave before returning to your husband on the couch. Charles was refilling your wine glass as you took the food out of the bag.
You two had barely gotten 5 minutes into eating when the door opened and in comes Eloise with her mascara running down her face. She ran straight to her father's arms, collapsing into him.
Anthony follows behind her, the front door slamming shut as he rambles out something in French. "Ce n'est pas à quoi ça ressemblait! Ellie, tu paniques pour rien!" (This is not what it looked like! Ellie, you're freaking out for nothing!)
Eloise had returned home on Valentine's, in tears and was now holding onto her father as if he was going to disappear. The look you saw in Charles' eyes was one you thought was only held for Ferrari and all their torment but it was now directed to his best friend's son, - his baby girl's - his daughter's boyfriend.
"What's going on?" You handed Eloise a tissue, moving to sit on the arm rest of the couch, making yourself the middleman between Charles and Anthony.
The anger on your husband's face made you giggle internally, you could never take him seriously when he was upset - but you understood it. He didn't like to see his kids hurt, especially not his baby girl.
Anthony sighed, passing a hand through his dirty blonde hair; fluffy and flat, much like his father's. "My stupid ex girlfriend saw us while we were at the pier. She came to say hello and she was way too friendly with me - all over me, kissing my cheek, her hand on my chest, all in my face." He groaned, clearly disgusted by this girl.
"Why would you let her do that when you know you have a girlfriend?" Charles asks him, you could hear the roughness in his tone. Your hand gently moves to his shoulder, rubbing it softly.
You spoke next; "did she know you had a girlfriend?"
He nods, "Eloise was taking a picture of something so she was a few feet away and I guess she took it the wrong way when she saw her all over me. I was trying to get her to leave me alone but god, she's like a fucking pest - sorry," he makes a face when he realizes he swore. You wave him off before he continues. "Ellie took it the wrong way, which I understand but she won't hear me out, she thinks I'm cheating on her."
"Are you cheating on her?" Charles asks him.
"No!" You and Anthony answer at the same time; the boy trying to defend himself and you couldn't believe your husband would even ask that.
Eloise finally sits up, her father wiping her cheeks clean. Her blue eyes rimmed with red and slightly puffy from the tears and she turns to Anthony. "Va-t'en, je ne veux pas de toi ici." (go away, I don't want you here.) She tells him, voice trembling.
"Je ne pars pas, Éloïse." (I'm not leaving, Eloise.)
"Ok, je le ferai alors." (okay, i will then.) The girl gets up, walking the other way around the living room and heads up the stairs to what you could only assume was her room. Charles was just as wrapped around her finger as he was when she was born, and followed her to make sure she was alright.
These damn Leclerc's and their drama.
You rolled your eyes at your daughter's dramatics.
Yes, she was upset but Anthony had explained the whole situation in front of you, her and her father. While Anthony might look exactly like his man whore of a father, he was everything like his mother; a sweet, kind and fiercely loyal woman.
It broke your heart to see her upset but it also hurt you to see Anthony in the same state. You get up, hugging the boy as he sniffles, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.
"She just needs some time to cool off, she's dramatic like her father." You tell him, trying to lighten the mood. You walk him to the kitchen, getting him some water.
He sat in the breakfast nook. "I swear I didn't even see her until she walked over, otherwise I would have walked the other way."
"I know babe, is this the same girl that stalked you after you broke up?"
"Yeah!" He groans, sipping his water. "She's so - ugh." He says, making you laugh. You kiss the top of his head, leaving him there for the time being as you put away what was supposed to be dinner. The food sat on the coffee table, cold and unattended.
The door opens again and you groan, praying it's not another issue but it wasn't; Sofia and Chris come stumbling in, clearly having consumed something other than ice cream.
"Mama!!" Chris grins, untangling his fingers from Sofia's as he walks over to you, kissing your cheek multiple times like he did when he was little - slobbering on your cheek as he did then too.
You laughed, smelling the booze on him. Steadying him, you held his waist. "Hi baby, you okay?"
"Soooo good," he tells you, wobbling over to Sofia, who was also drunk but more steady than your son. You watch as they go upstairs, the sound of the door opening and closing before you walk back to the kitchen.
Anthony still sat in the breakfast nook. "You want something to eat? Something else to drink?" You asked him, wiping your wet cheek off with a tissue.
It takes him a moment to respond. "You know when we were little and you'd cut the apples and make the little peanut butter sandwiches with the slices?" He asks and you nod.
"Want some?" You were already grabbing the apple, peanut butter and honey. Anthony smiles, nodding like he was a kid again.
You washed and cut the apples, spreading the peanut butter and honey on them, sandwiching them together and handing the plate to him. "Thank you," he says, sinking into his seat as he takes a bite of the familiar taste from his childhood.
"Mhm hm," you smiled, hearing the footsteps from behind you. Charles was coming down, kissing your temple as he picked up an extra piece of apple you had on the cutting board.
"Ellie just needs some time." He says, staring daggers at Anthony; if looks could kill.
You huffed, smacking the back of your husband's head. "Stop it, he feels bad enough as it is."
Another set of footsteps come from the hallway and you assume it's Christopher looking for something but then the sound of the front door slamming shut caught your attention. This house was like a free for all, everyone coming and going as they pleased - you made sure to make a mental note to see who had keys to this place.
In came Gabriel who was being held by his boyfriend, Oliver. The two of them were covered in blood and Gabriel had cuts and bruises all over his face.
"What the fuck? What happened?" You say, Charles rushing over to help Oliver sit Gabriel down on a chair.
"He's so fricking hot headed," Oliver says, holding his boyfriend up straight.
It was clear that Gabriel was beyond pissing drunk, the boy swaying unless someone was holding him. Anthony takes over for Oliver, holding Gabriel up as Oliver goes to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
"What happened?" Charles asks, passing you the cloth as you wiped the blood off your son's face. "I have no clue," you tell him, being extra careful not to hurt him; not like Gabriel would feel it anyways.
Oliver comes back a moment later, setting the kit on the counter and taking back his spot next to Gabriel.
"Ellie's asking for you, man." He tells Anthony, who glances at Charles before quietly making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Before you could even ask, Oliver starts explaining the events of the night. "We met up with Georgina and Adrian at the club. We were all a little tipsy, and Georgina was trying to get a drink at the bar. Some guy came up behind her and he was getting all handsy, trying to touch her and Adrian was in the bathroom so he didn't see it happen, but Gabriel did and he stepped in." Oliver sighs, brushing his boyfriend's hair from his face.
"Basically, Gabriel told the guy to fuck off and said if he touched Georgina again that he would break his face. The guy took that as a sign to leave and once Adrian came back, the two of them decided that they were going to go get something to eat and just spend the rest of the night at home. But Gabriel being Gabriel, our night couldn't just end there of course."
You carefully patched up Gabriel, wiping his cuts clean and putting antibacterial ointment on what needed it , making sure he didn't need stitches or anything.
"The guy came back again a few minutes later. He was super drunk, as was Gabriel and you know how Gabe can be. They started fighting and next thing you know, they're beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the fucking club."
Oliver tells you the story, causing you to roll your eyes at your son's behaviour. You're proud of him for standing up for his friend but must he always get into a fight for stupid reasons?
"I tried to stop him but I forget how strong Gabriel is sometimes." He huffed and you looked at him, seeing the blood on him. "Are you okay?" You asked, moving over to check him.
"I'm fine," Oliver smiles. "It's Gabe's." He says, gesturing to the blood on his shirt.
Charles was making up the guest room downstairs while you patched Gabriel up. In his drunken state, you all knew he wouldn't be making it up the stairs. Your husband comes back to help Oliver get Gabriel into bed and you threw out the bloody mess that had developed on the counter.
You put the plates in the sink, tossing the garbage out and headed up to check on your oldest and youngest.
There were noises coming from Christoper's room and you figured it best not to investigate further. Eloise's door was open, you knock softly and peek in when you don't get an answer. Her head resting on Anthony's chest, the two of them cuddled up and fast asleep. Switching off the light, you pulled the door shut quietly and made your way back downstairs.
As you reach the bottom step, Charles appears from around the corner. He hugs you, squeezing you tightly.
"What?" you asked him, cupping his jaw.
"Our kids are insane," he tells you, sighing. You can't help the laugh, leaning down to kiss your husband. "Those are your genes."
Charles rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you behind him.
"Where are we going?" You asked, following him. He leads you to the car, opening the door for you to get in before getting in himself. It was a short drive and you two ended up on the pier, Charles parks the car and looks over at you.
"What?" You asked him again.
"Just wanted some alone time with my wife," he whispers, leaning over to kiss you. "I can't have that?"
"No," you shook your head, leaning in your seat to reach him. Charles smiles against your lips, as you melted into each other, lost in the moment.
With a soft smile and a lingering touch, you reluctantly pulled away with your cheeks as red as the first night he kissed you. "What was that for?"
"Nothing," he says, smiling. "Happy Valentine's Day babe."
"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."
--
taglist: @timetorace @diorleclerc @lickmeleclerc @elisaa-shelby @ohthemisssery @anthonykatebridgerton @memeorydotcom @cehilim @kyomihann  @cedricdiggorysimpp @enjoymyloves @itsrogersstuff @p4st3lst4rs @chxndlerr  @shawnftjacob @f-holland @f1medlife @redbaby24 @valkyrie418 @its-lilla-my-dudes @alwayschoppedtaco  @felixthexlll @alwaysclassyeagle @starkeyellow @juliantheupsidedown @writergiih @paty2110juarez @coldmuffinbanditshoe @cowboylikemoiii @harrysdimples05 @hungryhungariann @cagoterie @sigynxlokiwifelover @majx00 @ghostleclerc @devilswaldorf @omigodyall @leclerc13 @hearts4maddison @yourtypicalslvt @karmabyfernando @nichmeddar @teenagedreams-cl @crueisummer @kmc1989 @kayleea122 @darleneslane @whyamireadingthis
**if you were previously tagged in a daddy & me + three piece and you aren't no, that means your tag wasn't working or it was sent incorrectly to me. please message me and I will fix it!
566 notes · View notes
mistydeyes · 5 months
Note
just a cute little moment with ghost i was hoping u could write pls 🤭
imagine simon being gone on a mission and your house was feeling so empty and lonely.
So..... you decide to adopt a dog from the shelter to mend your loneliness and waited to surprise him with the new addition to the riley family!
On the other hand, Simon felt terrible for leaving you for months on end. To keep you company and protected, he brings home *drum roll pls*
another dog!!
The look on both of your faces when he comes through the door with dog in his arms and you with a little pup on your lap already 😭😭
(hope this isn't confusing lmao)
AHHH this is so cute and precious! love simon being a dog person fr fr
Tumblr media
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: With Simon gone on some unknown mission, you decide to welcome a new member to the family. However, despite how much you love the friendly little guy, Simon has other ideas on pets.
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader
warnings: none :)
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
"Hi, Simon," you smiled through the phone. "Hello, love, how are you?" he asked and you relaxed into the plush blanket on the couch. "Mhmm, same old, same old," you said, trailing off towards the end as if you had something to hide, "but how have you been, haven't heard any updates." You bit your lip as the line went quiet for a moment, you kicked your feet slightly in anticipation. "Something you want to talk about? Sorry, it's been a while since we've gotten stable service," he said, a soft kindness in his whisper. Before you could reply, a soft bark resounded through your shared flat as a car drove down your lane. "What was that?" Simon asked suddenly, "Someone's dog get loose?" As your newest and surprise addition to the Riley family came running to your side, you struggled to hold the phone and settle him down with soft pats and belly rubs. You hadn't intentionally wanted to adopt a dog without Simon but something about the young pup at the local adoption center made your heart melt. Plus you were no stranger to managing a new pet. However, your failure to answer gave Simon a full assumption as to the current state of your home.
"Did-did you adopt a dog?" he asked almost holding his breath, "please, just tell me." With that, the secret was out and you silently cursed your all too observational fiancé. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, "it's just too lonely without you here and you know how the colder seasons make me feel." You tried to calm your excuses by cuddling up to your big-eyed, gentle Golden Shepherd but were immediately off put by the sudden laugh filling your ears from the other line. "Please tell me it's at least a guard dog breed," he said between laughs and you felt your held breath relax. "Um you could say that," you replied as you smiled down to the bundle of fur curled up to your side, "he can be menacing at times." "To the mail carrier or actual intruders?" he joked a slight hint of sarcasm on his tongue. "I'll send you a photo so you can judge for yourself," you huffed but before the conversation could continue any further, you heard the call suddenly drop.
You pouted a bit as you looked down at Bones, your newest companion for the coming months. "Smile for your dad," you said happily before sending the picture off to Simon to see eventually. At the end of the week, your phone dinged with an incoming message. "golden shepherds are not guard dogs." it said simply and you were sure to spam him with more photos of you and Bones' latest adventures.
You lazily lounged around the flat as you looked at your phone's calendar. Simon's mission had been extended 6 more months from his initial departure date and since that update, you had heard little since. You put down your phone dejectedly before filling up Bones' bowl of food and water. As you turned with the bowl in hand, you practically jumped when the door knob turned. Bones ran towards it rapidly as you chased after him, nearly colliding with your kitchen island. "Easy now," you commanded sharply, pulling him by his collar. "Guess he is a guard dog after all," a familiar voice spoke and your eyes met with Simon's. You immediately jumped to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he levied a cardboard box into his other arm. As you reunited after many long months, you were monetarily blinded to the small bundle of fur peeking out from the top. "What's this, Simon?" you asked as you paused your barrage of kisses. "Look for yourself," he smirked, putting the box in your hand. Inside, a small Belgian Malinois began to lick your face. As you laughed giddily at the affections, Simon led you to the couch with Bones following cautiously. "Since you don't have much of a scary one here," he said pausing to pat Bones on the head, "thought he and you could use a companion." You nodded as you put the small puppy in your lap. "Well now that we have two children," you said turning to him, "you better be staying for a while now, Riley."
850 notes · View notes
hanflowers · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: ꒰ l. castellan x apollo's daughter reader ꒱
genre: fluff
warnings: kisses hehehsja
summary: luke castellan made it his daily habit to visit (you) the infirmary.
a/n: send reqs pls!! (,,>﹏<,,)
Tumblr media
the door opened as you had just finished patching up an injured camper. "feeling any better?" paying no mind to the sound, you ask the poor kid. apparently he got injured after he was challenged to a duel with clarisse.
he nods and hides himself in the white sheets of the bed. "okay, good. tell me if it hurts again, hm?" you pat his head and turned around—only to be met by the one and only luke castellan.
"what is it this time, castellan?" you sigh. he goes here every day and asks you to heal him despite only having very small injuries.
"oh, come on, sweetheart. can't i just visit my girlfriend?" he suddenly hugs you, resting his face on the crook of your neck.
"can we do this later? i still have to heal other campers, love." you kiss his head and hesitantly push him away.
you go to another injured camper that was waiting by the bed. you didn't realize luke trailing behind you. "what happened?" you ask the girl. "accidentally tripped," she replied looking embarrassed "twisted my ankle."
luke wrapped his arms on your waist from behind and as much as you love it, you had to focus on helping the young girl. "love, not now, please."
you kneel and examine her injury. "does it hurt a lot?" you ask, holding her ankle. she nodded in response. you hum in response. "just relax. i'll heal it, but it might hurt a little, okay?" the 12 year old nodded, feeling tears prick her eyes.
luke noticed and sat beside her, tracing small circles on her back to calm her. you saw what was happening and smiled. "what's your name?" you ask, preparing your powers. "maia," she answered.
"i'll count to three—one, two, three." maia closed her eyes and to her surprise, there was no pain. "so, how do you feel now?" you looked up at her and smiled.
"better and it didn't hurt!" she giggled. "thank you, [name]!" you were now standing and maia hugged you. "no problem, maia, it's my job after all." you chuckle and pat her head.
"how about me?" you turned to your right, seeing luke pout. "what about you?" you tease him. "don't i get head pats, too, love?" he's still pouting and he looks absolutely adorable.
you sigh and eventually give in. you pat his head while maia laughs at the sight. this made all of you laugh and you hug both of them. "maia, you'll have to stay here for a bit, okay? you need to rest." the little girl nods and smiles.
"as for you," you squeeze luke's cheeks. "you come here with me." you drag him outside the infirmary both of you waving maia goodbye.
"i missed you," the two of you arrive at the lake and sit on the grass. "i missed you too, pretty girl." luke places a hand on your face and eventually, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss.
oh, how you missed this feeling. just the feeling of being in his arms, not caring about a thing in the world.
you move your hands to tangle themselves in his soft brown locks while he moves his to your waist.
your lips were just so soft and so sweet—he couldn't get enough of it, but both of you knew you had to pull away for air. so you did. (you didn't want to, though)
now you're on his lap, a sweet smile on both your faces. "i love you," luke smiled, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "i love you, too, castellan." he then kisses your other cheek, then your forehead, then your nose—and eventually, your lips.
Tumblr media
626 notes · View notes