Tumgik
#is that what he's looking for? to be loved enough to be made real?
youkaiyume · 3 days
Text
UGH Thinking about when all the admiring girls calling Colin Brave for the Hot Air Balloon incident and where he finds such bravery and he is going into his suave retelling until he sees Penelope across the room--and everything fades away and his facade slips because the real reason he did it was because he only thought of saving the woman he loves in that moment. But he then tries to go back to his bravado retelling and say that "courage is within us all." but then falters once again when he says that if "we are honest with ourselves and with our feelings, it is possible to do anything." He's once again looking at Pen--because the honest truth is that his feelings for Pen was what made him the hero. And yet at the same time he feels the hypocrisy of that moment because he still can't be honest with himself enough to find the courage to pursue her.
And to add to the layers, Penelope is also listening to his words and interpreting it as a sign that she needs to be honest about her own feelings for Colin, and that they will never be returned. She needs to take action and secure her own future. So she turns in that moment and resolves to go to Debling. UGH I AM NOT WELL.
445 notes · View notes
dazednmatthews · 2 days
Text
always, i’ll care~ number neighbor!matt x reader part fourteen point five
i know that this doesn’t seem like an important part but it is!!!! the song for this chap is perfectttt. y/n is jus like me fr yall gotta get off her. her lore is avoidant attachment and commitment issues like she’s jus a girl!!!
part 15 and 16 thursday night <3 i decided to write something really long and special for the last chapter so 17 will be up friday or saturday at the latest. and then we’re done 🥹 soooo crazy boots. love u all always.
the hum of y/n’s AC unit is killing her into a dissociative state. she’s been staring at the countertop in front of her for what feels like hours, unmoving.
it’s been about a week of no contact with matt. a week since she ripped her own heart out of her chest and squashed it in to the sidewalk between them. she stares at their messages often, rereading the texts with muted emotion. she wants to text him, she always fucking does, but she just can’t.
there’s a burning in her eyes because she doesn’t know the last time she blinked, but she doesn’t care. she doesn’t even know why she’s so hellbent on running away. sure she’d been hurt before and that was a concern, but she knew matt was different. she could feel it.
and maybe that’s what made it so hard. she knew that they could be real and good and right. it’s enough to freak her out all over again.
the clattering of her ice maker snaps her out of the stupor, blinking furiously as she comes to. her apartment seemed too small, too condensed. it didn’t help that she now knew what it was like to have matt here, flashes of that night bleeding into the memory of every space in there. from the living room to the bathroom to her fucking bed, he was everywhere.
don’t even get her started on the pictures she has in her phone. the ones of matt over facetime, the ones of them smiling at each other in face masks, even the ones from the day they met, doing dumb shit. it all serves as a vile reminder that she fell into the same grueling self sabotage she thought she’d healed from.
the tears are pricking her eyes painfully, and the words from a week ago are reverberating unforgivingly in her head. “whenever you’re ready, whenever you want to stop hiding, i’ll be here, y/n.”
she wants to be ready, wants to to stop being so fucking avoidant. she knows that the longer she takes, the more matt will be hurt, and that’s the last thing she ever wanted to purposefully do.
the truth is, y/n doesn’t want to be dispensable. this whole thing with matt started because of her. her boredom, her interest, her persistence. she’s always felt like matt has had the upper hand. he could walk away so easily, at any time, and that fucking terrified her. especially now, with all the feelings she has for him and the way he’s pretty much become the most important person in her world. she hated that, being out of control. so she had to get it back somehow. it just so happened that somehow included breaking her own heart, anyway.
when she finally walks away from the spot she’d been standing her phone rings. the terror and excitement that she feels in that moment make her hands shake, but when she looks at the caller ID, she sees it’s her best friend. she doesn’t know whether be more relieved or disappointed.
“hey,” she says quietly. she’s tired, has been for days.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” it comes from love, so y/n just sighs.
“not now, daria.”
“um, fuck that.” she can hear shuffling from the other end. “you’ve been moping for a week. you still haven’t texted him?”
y/n feels her heart squeeze at the question. “i don’t know what to say.”
“bullshit.”
she tries again. “i don’t want to hurt him.”
“bullshit.”
“i’m not ready.”
daria scoffs a laugh, like her friend just said the funniest thing in the world. “can you guess what i’m gonna say next?”
y/n rubs at her eyes. “bullshit.” she mumbles.
“exactly.” there’s a pause in her words, and y/n can hear what sounds like the washer in the background. “you’re in love with that man, y/n. you’ve talked every day for like what? three months now?”
“four.”
“oh my bad,” the sarcasm makes y/n smile the tiniest bit. “four months. and you talk about him constantly. i literally know basically everything about him too.”
“i know, but-“ she tries to interject but daria is having none of that.
“no buts. what are you afraid of?”
y/n is stumped. not because she doesn’t know the answer, but because she does. “what if i go all in and he decides that this isn’t what he wants? or i fucking tell him how i feel and he fucks me over?”
there’s a pause. and then, “you’ve gotta be the dumbest bitch i’ve ever met.”
“oh, okay.” y/n blinks.
“i love you, very dearly. like immensely. but the only person in this relationship that has given any feelings of doubt or uncertainty is you.” it quite literally feels like a shock goes through her entire body as her best friend continues. “you quite literally told the man that it was never that serious and that he needed to relax. meanwhile, he basically confessed his love for you.”
she feels herself cringe at the reminder of her matt’s last conversation. from the look on his face to the way that she felt. it’s probably her biggest regret, maybe ever, because all she did was say a bunch of words she didn’t mean. bullshit, as daria would say.
“please don’t fucking remind me.”
“you need to be reminded. constantly, actually.” y/n rolls her eyes at her friends brashness. “you’ve got to get out of your head, y/n. you and matt are clearly made for each other. you clearly care about him, and he’s obviously obsessed with you. getting hurt is scary, it fucking sucks, but that’s just apart of life.”
“the way i see it, you have two options. either you keep being a coward in fear that something bad could possibly happen, ruining something potentially amazing before it starts, or you fucking nut up and let yourself feel without restrictions. be open to his feelings, be open to all the possibilities and be open to yourself.”
you know that moment when you finally find that post you’d been searching for? or when you finally remember the name of a song that was stuck in your head? that feeling is exactly what y/n feels in that moment. like the connection between her head and her heart is finally, finally growing back.
“i hate when you make sense. it pisses me off.” y/n says through a tear or two, because feelings are fucking scary. “i love you.”
daria laughs and her voice is kind. “i love you, too. now stop wallowing and go get your man.”
y/n can feel something close to hope filling her. the wheels turning in her head are telling her that she knows exactly what she has to do. “yeah, i think i will.”
TAGLIST:
@cottoncandyswisherz @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @55sturn @chrryclouds @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds @unbruisable @ribread03
260 notes · View notes
theemporium · 1 day
Note
may i request a mai tai 💛 with nicojack
26 (and 25 if you combine prompts, not sure though!)
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽put this in the frat!universe because i thought you requested it but oh well!!🤠
26. kissing the top of their head
.
Neither you nor Jack could be blamed when it was clearly Nico’s fault for conditioning you both. 
In all honesty, none of you really noticed what he was doing until he stopped. And then suddenly, your world was disjointed and the planets weren’t aligning and the world was tilting on its axis. Something so small and yet so monumental that it was disconcerting when it never happened. 
Because you were so damn used to Nico kissing the top of your heads as a small but heartwarming gesture. 
It was funny, really. The man had done more than enough to make butterflies erupt in your stomach, to make your cheeks burn and your brain to melt until no coherent thoughts were left. He said filthy things in your ear and bent you into positions that had you seeing stars. He had made you feel a million emotions and more. 
But nothing made you feel more loved than the way his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips pressed a loving, lingering kiss on the top of your head. And you knew Jack agreed because you had seen the way his face broke out into a grin after Nico kissed his head—and you knew your face matched his expression. 
That’s why it threw you both off when Nico left one morning for class without kissing either one of you on the head.
You had no classes and Jack’s were later in the afternoon so the two of you were lounging in his room, no real rush to start your day. But Nico was running late, in a bit of a rush as he shoved books into his bag and called out a quick ‘love you!’ before he rushed off. 
You didn’t realise how offended you would be until it happened. 
And you thought you were being dramatic until you turned to look at Jack and found him frowning, a crease formed between his brows as he stared at the door Nico just ran out off. So, if anything, you weren’t being a brat. Or being dramatic. Or silly or theatrical or whatever else the other frat brothers had said. 
You and Jack were being so fair about your reactions, especially when Nico came back from classes and didn’t even try to rectify his mistakes. And especially when it happened a few more times over the next week.
“I don’t understand what’s happened,” Nico tried again as he stared a bit helplessly at you. He had tried to convince Jack to take a nap with him after his class, only for the younger boy to mutter something about studying and needing to go grab some books from Trevor. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered simply, your eyes on your laptop instead of the way Nico was sitting on the bed, shorts riding up his thick thighs with his legs spread as far as they were. 
He shot you a look. “So you’re doing this as well?” 
“Doing what?” You questioned innocently, even if your eyes have read over the same sentence more times than you cared to admit because your boyfriend was distracting in those tiny shorts and the small frown on his face.
Nico hummed and, naively, you thought he had let it go. But then you heard him getting up and his footsteps making his way towards you. And you barely had a chance to react before your chair was being spun around and Nico’s arms were locking you in as he leaned over you. 
“I–”
“Tell me what’s bothering you both.” 
You let out a stubborn sigh. “Nothing.”
“Baby, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Nico said, his voice soft but firm and, fuck, you knew what he was doing. That sweet, coaxing voice he used in bed too when he wanted you to do what he asked, when he had you whining and panting and promised you he would give you what you wanted if you were a little patient. 
The fucker knew what he was doing with that voice.
“C’mon,” he murmured, his accent coating his words to make them that little bit sweeter. “Use your words.”
“You forgot,” you blurted out. 
Nico blinked. “I…forgot?”
“You—” You paused, feeling your cheeks burn a little because, okay, maybe you and Jack were being a little dramatic about the whole thing. And it was only really hitting you when you had to confess it out loud. “You don’t kiss us anymore.” 
Nico blinked again. “Uh, I do, baby. I kiss you and Jack all the time.” 
“Yeah, on the lips but—” You glanced away from him and the contemplative look on his face. “You don’t give us forehead kisses anymore. You used to do it all the time and, I don’t know, you just…forget now.” 
It was silent for a while before you finally gained the courage to look at him, just to find Nico staring at you with a smile on his face and a soft look of adoration in his eyes.
“I didn’t realise you two enjoyed them so much,” he confessed, because for him, it was something instinctive. He just did it because it felt right, not because he thought about it. And something in his chest warmed at the idea that you and Jack craved the affection of it so much.
“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging your shoulders when words failed to leave your lips. 
“Hmm, m’sorry for neglecting you both then,” Nico murmured and before you could even say anything, you felt both of his hands cupping your face before his head dropped to place a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “Better?”
“You have a few to make up for,” you retorted and his grin widened. 
However, before Nico could get his retort out, the door opened and Jack wandered back into the room, holding a comically large pile of books (some of which didn’t even belong to classes he took). You snorted at the sight, knowing very well he was making a point as he made his way to the desk to sit beside you.
“Jack,” Nico called out, biting back the smirk on his lips when he watched the younger boy try to act indifferent. 
“Oh, you remember me now?” Jack muttered, keeping his eyes on the books because he knew he would crumble the second he turned to look at his boyfriend.
“C’mere.”
“I’m actually great where I am—hey!” 
But his whining was cut off when, similarly to you, Nico held his head in his hands and used the height difference between them to press a lingering kiss to the top of his messy hair. And when he pulled back, he beamed at the sight of Jack blushing.
“Talk to me next time, okay?”
“Mhm.” 
“Instead of being a brat.”
Jack scoffed. “I was not being a brat.”
“Yeah, you were,” Nico retorted but he sounded fond as he pressed another kiss to his boyfriend’s head. “You both were but, fortunately, I love you both for it.”
.
148 notes · View notes
Text
Charlie: “This is the worst idea we’ve ever had.”
Vaggie: “Do we have a better one?”
Charlie: “Give up before I burn down half of Pentagram City??”
Vaggie: “That’s plan B, babe.”
Charlie: “It’s gonna be plan A for Already Happening at this rate!”
Vaggie: “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do-”
Charlie: “THEN SWITCH WITH ME!”
Angel Dust: “Said the bi lady to her lesbian lover.”
Charlie: “I’M NOT LOVING THIS! Why can’t I be the on who has to do the fake date thing!? At least I’ve dated guys before! Once!!!”
Vaggie: “Because-”
Alastor: “Ha ha HA… My dear, I’m afraid I DO prefer living, amusingly enough~”
Charlie: “Then keep the touching. To a MINIMUM.”
Vaggie: “Sweetie, the whole point is to trick people into thinking I’ve double crossed you so they’ll tell us about how they wanna double cross you. It’s not really going to work if the one selling you out is… you.”
Charlie: “But this is stupid- no one in their right mind is going to look at YOU and think ‘now THERE’S a woman who would date a MAN!’”
Angel Dust: “Biphobia~”
Husk: “Still fucking true.”
Vaggie: “Charlie c’mon- If you were a dude I’d date you.”
Charlie: “You’d figure out how to still be lesbian about it, trust me.”
Alastor: “Now there’s a thought! I COULD do my best impression of a lesbian, if that would help with the immersion?”
Vaggie: “What, like. Wear a pin?”
Charlie: “I do NOT need this situation to be in any way believable! The structural integrity of our HOTEL does NOT need me feeling this is even slightly more real.”
Alastor: “But our foes do require enough to be fooled by, I am afraid.”
Angel Dust: “Well that’s this plan out the window…”
Vaggie: “I can’t picture you as a lesbian.”
Angel Dust: “He’s not giving guy fucker vibes either, toots, bein’ fair.”
Husk: “It’s just fucker. In a platonic, shitty way.”
Alastor: “And you would know, hmmm~?”
Charlie: “Can’t we just dress me up as someone else?? Put me in a glamor, or-”
Vaggie: “No one is gonna hear you talk and not know who you are."
Charlie: "RRRGH."
Vaggie: "Which I love, by the way. Along with everything else.”
Charlie: “Well what if I just don’t talk! You- you could be into the silent, brooding types!”
Vaggie: “If I’d met you during the emo phase then yeah sure. But Alastor's the one who knows these assholes-”
Angel Dust: “WAIT go back- her WHAT phase!?”
Charlie: (SQUEAKS)
Vaggie: “Em… emoticon. Her. Emoji era.”
Angel Dust: “She was emo??” (at charlie) “YOU WERE EMO!?!? With the hair dye an’ the dead roses and shit????”
Charlie: “I was a TEEN! Kinda!! I was, barely through my first four decades of life-!”
Vaggie: “And dealing with a lot.”
Charlie: “-the whole ‘oh all of creation hates your home and you and everyone you love’ thing was starting to sink in, as well as all the, the murder and stuff happening just outside our house-”
Vaggie: “The hair dye made her happy so shut up.”
Angel Dust: “Oh we GOTTA get you back in your emo duds someday, Charlie Chip! This is GOLDEN!”
Alastor: “What, my dears, is an emo phase?”
Husk: “Angry at the world and making it the world’s problem by staying in your fucking room with the lights dim as fuck, turning it into a 3D model of all your psychological hang-ups and listening to tortured screams and shit.”
Alastor: “Ah. A lovely Saturday afternoon. I DO enjoy those.”
Everyone Else: “…..”
Alastor: “?”
Angel Dust: “Alright. So he’s maybe got some teen girl vibes goin’ on. That’s a start ain’t it?”
Vaggie: “….maybe we could say I lost my soul to him in a bet or something.”
Charlie: “Don’t even JOKE about that!!!!!”
Husk: “Fucking copycat.”
Angel Dust: “Copy what, Mr. kittens?”
Husk: (hisses)
Alastor: “Now now, Husk. Play NICE.”
Husk: “…you got it, boss.”
Alastor: (pats his head) "Very good."
Angel Dust: (CRINGING)
Charlie: "Alastor- could you um, maybe not??"
Alastor: "Hmm? Not what, my dear?"
Vaggie: "Oh you fucking KNOW what, pendejo." (glares) “Fuck the fake soul selling. I’d probably kill him if he talked to me like that.”
Alastor: “That MIGHT put a damper on our budding relationship, ha ha!”
Vaggie: “Touch me and you WILL die.”
Alastor: “Oh ho! A long distance romance I see!”
Vaggie: “That’s not convincing anyone either. You hold still, I’ll, ugh.” (grimace) “Touch your arm or something.”
Husk: “Eugh.”
Angel Dust: “Basic house rules.” (shrug) “Maybe it’ll work?”
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: “I can’t. I can’t do this.”
Vaggie: “Charlie it’s just for one evening-”
Charlie: “No. Just, just let all of hell plot against me! It’s fine.”
Vaggie: “Babe that is so not fine.”
Charlie: “It’s fine!!!”
Husk: “Carpet’s on fucking fire.”
Charlie: “Shit. Alastor- I need you to step away from Vaggie before I burn the hotel to the ground, starting with you.”
Vaggie: “Hot.”
Angel Dust: “Siiiiimp...”
Husk: (smirk)
Alastor: “I suppose disguising me as a FLAMING lesbian would be a BIT much.” (steps away) "Better?"
Charlie: (hugging vaggie) “Further please, Alastor. Further. A, a little more? Mm- no, further than that…”
(many steps later)
Charlie: “Juuuust a few more steps…”
Charlie: “Okay! I think I can finally be comfortable with this!!!”
Vaggie: “He can’t hear you, sweetie. He's half way across the hotel.”
Charlie: “Oh.”
148 notes · View notes
Note
your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals
not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶
Grunt Work
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader
Word Count: 3,920
Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).
Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!
Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.
Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.
Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.
It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.
He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.
He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.
But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.
As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.
When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.
She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.
Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.
She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.
Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.
First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.
Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.
Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.
He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.
What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.
After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.
The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.
For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.
The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.
If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.
Not probably. He would have shot them.
But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.
It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.
She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.
The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.
He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".
Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.
"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.
"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."
She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.
"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.
She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.
"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.
"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."
She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:
"What're you playing at, cowboy?"
"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."
"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.
"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"
"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.
Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.
"Serious as the grave, darlin'."
There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.
"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.
"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.
"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."
"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.
"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.
"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.
"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.
"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.
"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.
She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.
"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.
He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.
"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."
Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.
"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."
Though it certainly didn't hurt.
It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.
"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.
"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.
Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.
"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.
After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.
He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.
"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.
"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.
He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.
"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."
"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.
"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.
However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.
Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.
"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."
His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.
Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.
"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.
She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.
"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.
"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."
The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.
After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.
"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.
"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.
"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."
144 notes · View notes
yandereend · 21 hours
Text
Yandere Househusband
The wedding
P. 2/?
TW : normal yandere stuff, dubcon, reader is into it?, Tyler talks about children, both are like 18 or 19
Btw English is not my first language so please keep that in mind
🩵Also thanks to everyone who wrote nice comments under the first post🩵
You sometimes watched those trashy shows about the bridezillas who were obsessed with their weddings and made everyones live hell. Like many people you hopped to never be in a situation like this. But here you were sitting besides your fiancé while he discusses flower arrangements, acting like a giant brat.
Is it so hard to put together bouquets with ALL pink flowers?!
Sir we dont have enough pink lillies for all your decorations. You should reconsider some of your choices-
I‘m surrounded by idiots!! My spouse wanted pink lillies so i don’t care if you don’t have them stocked!! Just buy them!
That would be even more expen-
Just do it !!!
And with that Tyler took your hand and you both exited the flower shop. It was almost comical how such a small thing could affect a grown man so much, but hey it’s his day. Tyler had a big pout on his face so that called for your attention and pampering.
Tyler don’t be upset.
But its our day my darling, everything should be perfect! We spend so much time picking out your (suit/dress/whatever you want its your wedding) and my suit. The flowers have to match or everything was for nothing my dear!
Not everything has to be perfect.
Oh yes it does! Have you never been on pinterest ?
That was the whole wedding planning in a nutshell , just an avid pinterest user placing together the wedding of their dreams( yandere style). Sometimes it was cute seeing Tyler being so invested in the wedding, other times it was more than annoying to cater to his perfectionism.
You also often thought about how quickly things progressed. I mean you just graduated high school and are already engaged and working for your fiancés father. Tylers father, Eric, was a great boss, you often wondered why people were scared of him. It’s just your nice father in law! Always explaining everything to you and hyping you up as the next in line of the family business. I mean you’re almost a part of it.
And Tylers mother, Ramona, was the same, always acting like she’s your real mother and caring for you. Not to mention Tyler himself. You were not suprised when he didn’t went out to look for a job or university, he always promoted the idea of a traditional family with you as the breadwinner in the center. And hey, his parents gifted you a house as an engagement gift, so its safe to say that you wont suffer in the presence of those saints.
At least that’s what you thought of them, little did you know that they were the reason why most of your friends cut contact and your family hardly called after you moved out. But hey who needs them anyways.
So while all these thoughts ran through your mind here you were, walking down the aisle with your father and finally seeing the man of your dreams in his perfectly tailored suit and styled hair, with tears in his eyes witnessing your beauty.
Your wedding vow was rather short but still packed with the love you felt for your husband. And after he put himself together, because of his happy tears, he read the most beautiful wedding vow you ever heard touching your heart and everyone else’s in the chapel. So when you finally get to put the rings on each other’s fingers you both stand up there with tears in your eyes.
And when you both finally unite in a grand kiss your fate was finally sealed. Tyler had you finally completely in his grasp, even if you didn’t realize it. And he,as well as his family, will never let you go. So enjoy your wedding party with your family and friends, you won’t get to see them any longer my dear.
Till death do you apart.
Tumblr media
🩵Thanks a lot I hope you enjoyed it, I am planning on making this a series so please comment ideas for your life with your new husband 🩵
117 notes · View notes
dreaswrld · 2 days
Text
Where it Began
Tumblr media
 Jude Bellingham
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Word count: 900 I think
Drea’s note: Wrote this a while again. Kinda short but I could turn it into a series if requested. Enjoy!
Tumblr media
Different coloured lights emanate from outside the busy club building. It’s been booked by a few footballers from Real Madrid and you happened to be invited.
You were somewhat reluctant about joining the boys at the club as you fixed up your hair and headed out of your hotel room. You got into the car that would be taking you to the club and as soon as you got there Vini was first to greet you and walk you in. The loud hip hop music thumps around the packed building and the rhythm slowly merges with your heartbeat.
Clubbing is definitely not your thing. The mere thought of having sweaty, sticky bodies pressed against yours made your skin crawl but you pushed it away as Vini led you by hand and passed a large number of drunk bodies to the football group.
“Y/n!” Jude yelled your name excited as you appeared behind his good friend. His eyes darted to you holding hands with Vini but he pushed any assumptions away as he approached you. Jude was the one who invited you out for the night. You’d much rather spend time with your close friends watching a movie in a small cosy area like your apartment or theirs.
“Jude!” you smile and wrap your arms around his middle as he pulls you in for a hug. You and Jude were not friends per say. He met you through Vini and as you saw him more, you became more knowledgeable of each other but no clear friendship came out of it.
“How are you?” You ask as he passes you a longneck beer, you gladly take it and take a long swig of the bitter liquid awaiting his response.
His eyes concentrate on your lips enclosing the opening of the glass bottle; how he’d love to have your lips on his- concentrate Jude.
“I’m alright,” he shakes himself out of his fantasies, moving his focus back to you, “ how are you, y/n?” he yells back over the loud music but before you could answer, you’re dragged away from him by another one of his teammates who take you to a new group of people.
To your lack of knowledge, Jude curses under his breath at the disturbed opportunity to talk to you.
***
You mingle around the large group of footballers as the hours go by. You dance and sing to your favourite tracks that the hyped DJ plays and chat to the boys and a few girls that they brought along. You’re dancing to a slower track now, Vini’s hands are playfully wrapped around your waist with yours playfully around his neck as you mock a typical romantic dance moment. You giggle as he makes kissy faces to you and you slap his chest jokingly.
Jude’s watching all of this. He is quite tipsy. A mix of jealousy and anger churn in his gut as he thinks of how he should be the one holding you like that, how he should be the one making you smile, how he should be making you giggle. At some point the jealousy has gotten too much for him to handle. He’s fed up with himself for dragging what churns in his heart, so he gets up and strides to you. He places his palm to your shoulder and you turn your head with an arched brow.
“Can I talk to you?” he yells over the increasing volume of the music. You nod confused and leave Vinicius who makes his way to his friends. You follow behind Jude, pushing through the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated bodies before you finally reach the club exit.
He pushes the door open for you and you walk out. The loud music is now only a timid background noise. It’s cold outside. You wrap your hands around your chest to try to warm yourself up.
“Here,” He says, handing over his hoodie, you smile softly and accept it. His rich scent swirls in your nostrils as you put it on and look up at him. You’ve been around him long enough to know when something isn’t sitting right with him so you ask and he looks away.
“So what did you want to talk to me about, Jude?” you stare at him as you play with the hem of his oversized baby black hoodie. He turns his back to you, rubbing the back of his neck and then faces you again.
“There’s something I really, really need to tell you, y/n and I don't know how you say it.” He huffs. “I’m not very good at expressing my feelings and I might ramble and-” he huffs again.
He takes a few steps closer to you and looks down at you. You can feel the heat of his body. His heart is beating hard, so hard he fears you can hear it but he continues.
“What I’m trying to say, y/n is that I have feelings for you…romantic feelings for you and I don’t know how to deal with them,” he sniffles and rubs his nose nervously.
You look up at him and a slightly surprised expression and smile.
“Jude…”
“Yes…” he’s regretting coming out tonight now. He should have kept his mouth shut and maybe gotten drunk instead.
His eyes dart away from you and his body stiffens. You don’t say anything else and before Jude could process what was happening. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your body to his. His own body relaxes around yours and his arms wrap around your waist, completely looking forward to the new relationship that would blossom after tonight.
109 notes · View notes
mrsparrasblog · 1 day
Text
Bridgerton x COD crossover
I had so much fun writing this, and TW there will be historical inacurence.
"So what makes you stand out, Miss Lacington?" he asked while he spun the red-haired woman around. She was indeed beautiful, but her dress made her look like a runaway circus animal. However, proper dress code was something he could teach a lady. He knew he couldn’t be too picky; he was a stained viscount, tarnished by the war he had seen and attended. Yet, he didn't regret a second of his life. Being a captain was more important to him than being Viscount Price, but now that his mama was sick, he knew he needed to find a proper lady to grant her the last wish of seeing him married. Perhaps she hoped for a marriage of love, but he already knew that wasn’t for him. Love is for fools. He would marry a woman who could provide him with an heir and fulfill the duty of being Viscountess Price without getting involved in any of Lady Whistledown's scandals.
"I'm skilled at stitching and the pianoforte," she replied. Another one of them, he sighed before walking away, seeking someone more exciting. He saw Miss Winston; at least she had better looks, looks worthy of a viscountess.
"So, Miss Winston, what do you think of children?"
"They’re cute to look at," the young woman smiled, and her eager mama smiled even more.
"Children are not cute to watch; they are to care for, Miss."
"But that’s what maids are for?"
That was enough for him. If it weren’t for his mother, he would have stormed out immediately, but he allowed himself the luxury of hiding on the sidelines. "How is it possible that one cannot find a fitting lady in a room full of them?" he cursed under his breath, not realizing he was being watched until he heard a soft chuckle. When he turned around, he was in denial that you were even real. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Not the ladies in Paris, Milan, or Edinburgh could compare to such a beautiful woman like you, dressed in the finest blue fabric, with curves that were to die for, so unlikely for a woman in England. You held your mouth shut, trying to hide your laughter at his outburst. Another man might have been offended, but he was intrigued. You were bold and beautiful—a dangerous combination. "What is so amusing, Miss?"
Instead of blushing or getting anxious, you just replied with a proper apology.
“No need to apologize, miss…?”
"Miss L/N, daughter of the Earl of Sussex," you replied confidently.
John’s eyebrow perked up at the mention of your father's title, but otherwise, he said nothing in reply, keeping his expression neutral. He was certainly not used to ladies with such confidence who held titles. “Miss L/N,” he repeated as if committing it to memory. “And what do you think of the suitors of the ton so far? Did you come to try your luck on the London marriage mart?”
"I made my debut last year, and indeed I seek a husband."
"Surely, you will be successful at such a task with your beauty; you are certainly not lacking in that area,” he complimented you genuinely. He knew he should leave already; you were unfitting for him. He tried hard not to seek someone like you, who had the chance of finding a devoted husband, someone who wasn’t scarred by war, too close to his cigars, and went to every brothel in London. Only Prince MacTavish was a bigger rake than him. You’d be better off with one of the Bridgerton brothers.
"Excuse me, my lord, may I speak freely?"
John’s eyebrow raised again, this time with mild concern. It was quite rare to be asked for permission to speak by someone in the ton. But he granted your request, intrigued by what you had to say. “Of course, you may speak freely, Miss L/N.”
“If a suitor only seeks me out for my looks, he isn’t a proper candidate for a husband,” this was singlehandedly the smartest thing he had ever heard from a lady of the ton.
John's expression shifted from one of concern to mild, amused confusion at your response, surprised that you said something he actually had to agree with. You were not wrong, after all. Any man would be a fool not to be drawn to your looks, but only a proper match would see past your beauty. He gave a short nod of agreement. “An astute observation, Miss L/N. Yes, only a proper suitor would see past the first impression and see you for everything you have to offer.” It was time to go, he thought, but he wasn’t able to move. He enjoyed an intelligent conversation. Of course, he had them at the club with Garrick, Riley, and MacTavish, but this was different.
"And you, Mister Price, why do the London debutantes not appeal to you?" He was good-looking, a bit too old perhaps, but not older than 32, which was still younger than some of the men who tried to court you. He could clearly have anyone here, maybe even the diamond of the season. Why was he complaining and even listening to your nonsense?
“I suppose...I am looking for a rather specific type in the woman I plan to have as my viscountess. She must be intelligent, capable of holding a proper conversation, and also willing to provide me with heirs. I have little interest in the simpering debutantes who cannot do much more than curtsy, smile prettily, and fawn over me.”
A small chuckle escaped your lips as you heard the crotchety man. "Don’t forget, my lord, they can also wave fans."
"Ah, how could I forget? How important would the ton be without fans," he commented with a sarcastic tone, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "However will I remember all of the intricate signals they flutter in my direction? Will this catch my attention?"
"That's a question you need to ask yourself, Mister Price."
"Perhaps it is a question I have been pondering for some time," he remarked with a shrug before tilting his head and observing you for a second. "And what of you, Miss L/N? What type of suitor are you looking for in a husband? Surely you have a list prepared as well.” He could curse himself for asking, but maybe you would say an unfitting description, and he could move away in the direction of the eager mothers and their dense debutantes.
"I seek a suitor who isn’t shallow, who is kind and isn’t a rake, who can provide for me and our future kids, and if I may dream, someone I would fall in love with,” you answered truthfully, as you always did, a bit too openly for your mother's liking. But she couldn’t really complain about that when you had suitors waiting in line to court you. You promised your mother that you would marry after this season. If you didn’t find love, it would be a political marriage.
Your list mirrored his own almost perfectly, and yet the mention of falling in love with your match was something out of reach for him. "An admirable list, indeed. If only more young ladies in the ton were this grounded," he said with a hint of melancholy before giving you another compliment. "Miss L/N, you surprise me each time you open your mouth."
"Most suitors are negatively surprised when I open my mouth."
"Oh really now? I find that rather unfortunate. A woman of your intellect should be celebrated, not shunned. How many ladies can hold their own during a conversation or even converse on a topic that isn’t a dress? I have had more than my fair share of mindless conversations with the debutantes and their mothers. It is quite…dull."
"Well, maybe you need to improve your search, Mr. Price, when all the ladies on your dance card are this simple-minded." You couldn’t be more direct. Didn't he notice how you hoped he would ask you for a dance? You would gladly throw your dance card away for the prospect of courtship with him.
"But pray tell me, what would your recommendations be for me to improve my search, since you seem to be more clever than the entire room," he said mockingly towards you. He didn’t get the hint. Maybe he was the simple-minded man you thought.
"I wouldn’t call myself clever, Mr. Price. Please, just call me observant. You need to look for a woman who isn’t eager to talk to you with her mama, who isn't aware of your title." You didn’t care that he was a viscount; your father was an earl. That title alone made you able to marry most men in the ton, maybe not Prince MacTavish, despite his efforts for several seasons to find a woman to love.
"I commend your observational and quite sound advice, miss. I suppose I will have to go with a different approach than the one I have used previously," he commented, somewhat amused. "I'm sure my mother would be quite happy to have me take it in a different direction. How you have managed to surprise me twice in the same conversation baffles me."
"Maybe your conversations are mostly blunt."
Oh, you had a way too big mouth for a lady of the ton, but it was refreshing. He already looked for different debutantes who seemed less sophisticated than the previous ones. When he noticed Lord Riley approaching you to ask you for a dance, of course, you agreed like a proper lady would. He couldn't help but feel just a teensy bit jealous of the man he shared many war stories with. He wasn't often jealous, but there was something about how quickly you accepted the offer and seemed willing to flutter your eyelashes and smile at him. "Lord Riley is quite the lucky man," he muttered to himself.
"Found any interesting lassie?" That accent he recognized out of a million people. He bowed in front of the younger prince whom he had taught how to use the archer and ride a horse.
"No, indeed...there are no ladies this season that have caught my eye," he added before he glanced back across the room to where you were dancing with Lord Riley, a hint of a frown on his face.
"I saw your conversation with Miss L/N."
"I did have a rather stimulating conversation with her, indeed." He then tilted his head slightly. "You were watching us, your highness? How unlike you to be paying attention to something like that," he added with a hint of humor in his voice, having to admit the prince caught him somewhat off guard.
"She would make a stunning viscountess."
John knew better than to argue with the prince on the matter, especially at such a public event, so he instead chose to reply with a short nod of agreement to indicate he would entertain the suggestion, even if it was something he had no genuine interest in doing. As he did so, he could not bring himself to look back across the room where you were, having caught sight of the way you batted your lashes at Lord Riley and laughed at something he said.
As the ball finally came to an end, John's relief was immediate. He could finally depart from the room full of debutantes and eager mamas. He couldn't have been more keen to leave, but he did find himself pausing for a moment upon exiting the room—glancing back in hopes of catching another glimpse of the elusive Miss L/N. He couldn't help but find his gaze lingering on you for a moment as you stood chatting with the other girls, your gaze shifting between the ones speaking as you tried to look as though you were interested in their conversation. He found himself watching you for a moment before his head shook slightly, breaking the momentary trance. "Get a hold of yourself, Price," he muttered under his breath, his fingers fiddling with the cufflinks of his suit before he finally departed the room.
81 notes · View notes
maybcnksgf · 21 hours
Text
scars - remus lupin x reader 𐙚
summary: remus will forever be loved by you and his marauder brothers, all scars be damned.
warnings: mentions of scars (obviously), one nsfw joke (mentions of a handjob).
a/n: there's currently nothing on my mind other than andrew garfield as young remus so here you go <3 pls send some marauders requests!!
check out my masterlist <3
Tumblr media
you were sat with the marauders in the gryffindor common room, curled up with remus on the sofa under a blanket, his back resting against your front as his fingertips grazed up and down your arms.
the other three boys, scattered around you, were going on about their most recent prank on snape, all finding themselves very amusing.
"oh y/n, you should've seen the look on his face when he looked in the mirror and his hair was bright bloody green!" james burst out into another fit of laughter from the floor, falling into peter's side (who pushed him off with a playful grin and a "prongs! you almost pushed me into the fireplace, get away from me you git! and you still have that dye on your robes!").
you couldn't help but laugh along with them. sure, you’d felt bad for snape in the past, but it was undeniable that your best friends were incredibly entertaining.
"poor severus, is there no one else to be the butt of all your jokes?" you teased them with raised eyebrows. remus snorted out a laugh in front of you and shook his head in amusement as you playfully tried to rile the boys up.
"snivellus, you mean," sirius spoke from the armchair to your left, his face graced with his signature smirk. "and no. actually, we were planning on doing this one to that ravenclaw boy, clyde, but we couldn't let this greasy little git off the hook after what he said about our moony," he continued, his tone falling serious, "those two black eyes i gave him in the courtyard weren't enough for my liking. we needed to humiliate him."
he was right. snape had made a big announcement about remus' scars in charms class when he reached up to grab a book and his shirt rode up a little (because remus lupin was a marauder, of course he only had his shirt half tucked in at the most). he called him a monster, and said that there is no room for someone who looks like that in hogwarts.
"don't forget about that bruise y/n/n gave him too," peter chimed in, making the other boys chortle as you flashed them a proud grin. "you smacked him real good in the middle of class."
"yeah, damn right i did, wormtail."
you knew it was a sore subject for your rem, who's scars were always on his mind. especially now, only three days after the latest full moon. he was still sore, his body aching and sensitive to every touch.
he let his head drop back against your shoulder and relaxed at the feeling of your fingers playing with his hair, gently scratching and massaging his head every now and again. as the other marauders continued on with whatever their new subject was, you let your other hand slip under remus' shirt, tracing random shapes onto his skin.
you felt his body tense up again when you reached a scar. after all this time, remus was still so scared that you'd wake up one day and see him as the monster he believed himself to be. you placed a gentle kiss to his temple before leaning close to his ear to whisper to him, "you know it's not true, right?"
remus hummed quietly in response, his eyes focused off somewhere in the distance.
"you are not a monster, rem, you hear me? snivellus is a right dick who has no idea what he's bloody talking about."
he couldn't help but smile slightly at your swearing (which just sounded so cute coming out of your mouth) and the use of that nickname, which you hardly ever used for snape as you didn't want to be mean. but all worries about meanness be damned after what he said to your moony.
"and for the record," you spoke softly, moving the hand that was in his hair to his jaw and gently turning his head to look at you as you flashed him a smile. "i think you're pretty damn handsome."
the light blush that dusted over his face didn't go unnoticed by you and remus returned the smile before leaning in to kiss you softly. "thank you, m'love. what did i do to deserve you, hm?"
"oi, lovebirds," sirius interrupted your little moment when he noticed your hand (albeit totally innocently) under the blanket. his smirk had grown and he wiggled his eyebrows at your position. "y/n/n, stop jerking moony off and help us plan our next prank on snivellus."
you groaned loudly, face flushing in embarrassment as james and peter burst out into laughter again.
remus, on the other hand, was unfazed, still sporting his lovestruck grin as he tossed a cushion at sirius.
"piss off and let me snog my girl in peace, pads."
127 notes · View notes
Text
Mermaid who is infatuated with your legs and wants to be in between them. The encounter is by chance, but it ends in something deeper than friendship. 🌊
Feminine Reader x Mermaid
Tumblr media
CW: Smut | Some Horror | Mentions of Drowning | No death
"C'mon don't be a baby," Noah said. His tone indicated that he was joking, but you knew well enough that deep down, he hoped you would swim in Lake Lost at night.
"Leave her alone. You know she's not down for things like that," Mira hissed in his direction.
Mira had been your best friend since high school. She knew what you liked, didn't like, and downright hated. Which made it all the more surprising when she started going out with Noah years later.
Noah had always been an ass. He spent a majority of 11th grade in detention, and a majority of college skipped class from being too hungover. In your opinion, Mira was too good for him. It was an inside joke that if she were into girls that you would treat her way better.
You sighed. "If only," you thought to yourself.
The water seemed to have an electric hum to it tonight, and the closer you walked to the edge of the dock, the louder it got.
"Do you guys feel that?" You asked, turning to face your two friends. Of course they didn't because they were too busy making out. Again.
You cleared your throat.
"Earth to horny. Can you hear me? I am standing right here, you know."
Pulling away from Noah, Mira's eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Embarrassed looked cute on her.
Noah, however, wore embarrassment about as well as he would wear anything. Proudly and way too loud for your liking.
"What can I say," he pulled Mira back to his chest. "She's hot," he finished with an annunciation on the "t".
"At least go back to the car so I don't have to watch," you sneered. Clearly, you were the least important thing here.
"No! This is supposed to be our little reunion before the wedding," Mira's eyes dropped as she tried to step towards you. Ah, right. The wedding. You were going to be Mira's maid of honor next week.
None of it felt real. The wedding. College graduation. Hell, even life itself felt strange these days. It's as if everything you knew turned inside out over night, and nobody else felt the difference but you.
You took a deep breath.
"I can always jump in the lake some other time," you faked a half smile.
"Besides. I'm sure you two would like to make one last memory here before becoming," you swallowed, "husband and wife."
Mira turned her head. What her eyes fixated on, you couldn't quite tell. The only thing apparent is that she'd rather look anywhere but at her so-called best friend.
"Well," Noah said breaking the tension.
"Maybe she's right. We can always go for some new memories." He wiggled his eyebrows and Mira's shoulders eased. Your stomach lurched in a pattern with the waves behind you.
"If you're sure -" Mira began.
"I'm sure. Go. I'll be here. I - I missed Lake Lost."
"Really?" They said in unison, brows furrowed.
"Yeah. You know, I love lore and mysteries. What is Lake Lost besides one big mystery. All those bodies are still missing. Surely, it was from boating accidents or drowning, but still. You guys deserve some privacy."
Mira's gaze leveled with yours. Her eyes, a coppery brown, finally showed signs of softening.
You were getting comfortable under the heat of her eyes when Noah swept her off of her feet. Literally.
"Let's go, future Mrs. Scobolt."
With that, they were disappearing in heaps of laughter back towards the car. It wasn't quite that far from the dock, but Mira suggested parking at the entrance in case anyone showed up.
Technically, the park closed at sunset which was 2 hours ago, but when you saw the sign from the backseat of the car, you got a little excited.
Mira hadn't been wrong. You guys used to spend every evening here in the summer. It was where you learned to swim, where Mira caught a baby crab, where a pelican stole your shoe, and where you and Mira kissed.
These waters have seen everything and more. Much more.
Your spine ran cold in the July heat at the thought of the deaths. They had explanations for all of them, but it was eerie how they all occurred at night. Who would go boating at night? The lake is closed!
Then again, here you were. You looked back towards the car, but a thick fog had begun to roll off of the restless waters. You couldn't see more than 200 feet around you in any direction. It was as if a cloud had swallowed you in the time you were thinking.
Going back to the car was still an option, but the mental image of Mira being pounded into by Noah set off a dozen alarms in your head.
Her head rolling back, his hands on her hips.
No. You'd stay at the dock until you were sure that whatever they were doing was over.
Cementing the idea in your head, you say down at the edge of the wooden structure. The water reminded you of the midnight sky, an abyss that had no end. Yet, the clinginess of your shirt to your skin meant that the humidity was only rising.
You decided to soak your feet in the water, and as your legs made contact with the coolness of the lake, a happy sigh escaped your lips.
A few minutes pass of you relaxing on your forearms, feet gently swaying in the lake. You watched the ripples from your moments with hooded eyes.
"I can see how people fall asleep out here," you think whilst fighting back a yawn.
The rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, the chirp of bullfrogs, the increasing bubble of the water - wait.
You sit up, fully alert and eyes wide. The bubbles are concentrated in one area, but they're quickly moving closer to you.
Whipping your head to the car, you open your mouth to call for help. The problem is that nothing comes out. You're stuck.
It's as if you've been submerged in ice. A chill coats your bones, freezing you in place. Your mind races onward, begging your legs to rise from the water.
The circle of erratic lake closes in and as the bubbles reach the edge of your legs, you come to your senses.
But it's too late.
The summer air is warm, but the spot of the lake where you're pulled into is warmer. Water floods your vision and you find yourself flailing, gripping as nothing as you are pulled down into an ombre of darker blues.
You can't see what's grabbed you, nor do you care. Why does it feel like a hand? That doesn't matter, you begin to kick with the hope of striking anything.
The murky water is quickly filling your lungs, and your ability to struggle is growing weak. A blackness eats at the edge of your vision, and dizziness begins to set in.
"Mira!" You try to scream, but it comes out in a slew of air bubbles that only floods your lungs quicker.
You give one more kick, stronger than the rest. You feel your heel connect with a mass. Suddenly, you're free. You slowly make your way to the surface, fighting the urge to pass out.
"Fuck," you gasp in a voice that sounds unlike your own. Coughing and sputtering, water spews from your body, and you grab onto the wooden base of the dock for support.
"What on earth was -," you stop when you hear the familiar rumble of hot water. The bubbles. They've come back, and they're racing towards you.
With no time or energy to pull yourself onto the dock, you wait - panting, for whatever the creature is to take you again.
Maybe it's for the best? You weren't exactly happy with your life before, and it's not like Mira would miss you at this point.
Just as you've resigned to becoming fish food, the creature begins to show itself. First, a black spot appears on the surface. Then, as it rises, you're frozen to the spot by icy white eyes with thick lashes of the same hue.
It's a woman. No? It's - what is she? Her eyes are huge and nearly human minus the color, but her skin is a milky blue. She's beautiful albeit definitely not human.
"Are those," your voice trembles, and you reach a shaky hand up towards her face.
The woman - thing, tilts her head. She doesn't move from your touch. Instead, you made contact with her skin. It's ice cold, and your suspicion was correct. She has gills.
Lost in a sea of thoughts, you hardly realize that you'd begun to stroke her skin.
"What -" her voice startles you back to the present. It is dreamy and quiet with a lilt that has you mesmerized.
"What are you?" She asks. Her eyes are wider than yours, but while you're staring at her face, she has taken a liking to staring at your chest.
The look on her face isn't at all displeased, and a heat trickles down your neck. As if on cue, her eyes snap to yours. She waits for you to respond.
"Oh, um. I'm a human. I'm a woman."
"Human? Woman?" Her head is still tilted, so you continue.
"Yeah. A human. I live up there," you point towards the land and her eyes follow. She blinks a few times before looking down into the water.
"And what are those?"
"What are what?" You look down to see what caught her attention, but instead of finding the source of her curiosity, you stir up your own.
A tail. She has a tail. Her human form ends at her bellybutton, and from there blooms a tail that glitters in sparks of white and lavender beneath the dark surface.
"Mermaid" you whisper under your breath.
Apparently, you did not answer the mermaid's question fast enough because you feel her looming over you before you see her.
Her chest comes into view, and you're forced to look up to meet her eyes once more. You bite your lip to avoid smiling at how gorgeous she is.
She chuckles, emitting a sound like tinkering bells and you feel a webbed palm on your thigh.
A panicked yelp slips from your lips before you register what happened.
"I apologize!" The mermaid responds.
"I did not know that your tails were so sensitive. I should have asked first."
Tails? She thinks you have tails? You look down at your legs, then back up at her. She's shrunken into herself, embarrassed at what she thinks may have hurt you.
"No. No no no," you begin to laugh.
"These are my legs," you swim around her in a small circle.
"They help me to swim, walk, and run. They're kind of important. I guess they are to me what your tail is to you."
You don't know why you've become so animated, but seeing the mermaid smile at your explanation has your heart picking up it's pace.
"By the way," you can't stop talking. You've tried, but the words keep flooding out.
"Why did the water bubble when you came? Also, why did you try to drown me?"
She blinks again, narrowing her eyes.
"Drown you? I - I thought you could swim like me? Are you not able to breathe water for long?"
"I can't breathe water at all. I have no gills. Human."
"Huh," she looks off to the side.
"Perhaps that is why those other humans did not last very long with me. I only wanted to study their two tails, but by the time I took them back to my shell cave, they did not want to talk to me."
Your stomach lurches again. She's the reason Lake Lost is called Lake Lost, and she has no idea what she's even done.
"So - So you only wanted to look at their legs? You drowned those people by accident?"
Recognition hits the mermaid like a wave. She spins around, scaled fingers over her mouth.
"I took their lives. Oh goodness, I drowned them!"
She did, and she should probably feel bad about it, but watching her tail flap in distress was not only upsetting you, but it was causing some bigger waves to form in the lake. You could swim, but you weren't sure if you could survive a tsunami.
You swim to her, placing a hand on her back.
"Warm," she turns to you, claimed.
"You are warm."
"Yes. I am. It's human blood. If I'm not warm, then I'll die."
She giggles at your factual explanation.
"You're very interesting. I still feel remorse for the humans that I hurt. I didn't mean to. I promise," she looks at you pleadingly.
"I know you didn't, and if it makes you feel better you can study my legs," the end of your sentence comes out as more of a question. You can't believe you just said that. What if she tries to rip your legs off?
Still, she's stunning. The moon is in its crescent phase, casting a dim shadow over the lake. Her dark hair has a faint light to it, and her white eyes look pearlescent. You could study her for hours, but her lack of shirt deters you as you don't want to make her uncomfortable.
She, on the other hand, has no problem with taking all of you in. Her claim is that she wants to study your legs, but every time you look away, her eyes flutter back to your chest, your lips.
Her hand twitches, and she claps both of them together in front of her.
"I would like that. Thank you," she smiles, and you shiver again at her teeth. They're razor sharp. She could kill you with one bite.
Not that she would. In fact, what happens next surprises you. Grabbing onto the dock, you begin to hoist yourself from the water without much success. Your hands are too wet to get a decent grip.
Sinking back into the water for the second time, you let out a frustrated huff.
Without warning, you feel a pair of icy cold hands gripping your hips, and a torso pressing itself to your back.
Staring into those white irises, she doesn't break your gaze and she lifts you onto the dock, setting you down gently.
You open your mouth to speak, but she beats you to it.
"You are welcome, human." A light blue creeps onto her neck and cheeks.
"What is it that fascinates you about legs? I know you don't have them, but they must look awfully funny to you from beneath the lake's surface."
"They do, but that is why I like them. They are something new. I have had this tail since I was young. It no longer interests me."
The mermaid takes pause, and her eyes scan you over again.
She continues, "Humans are different. Your anatomy is more complex. There are parts that do different things. I have heard many stories about your kind."
"Really? From who?"
"Fish that get set free, my sisters who used to watch humans from a distance. They say that if you make a human very happy, then something good happens. They called it "the cry".
Now it's your turn to be confused.
"Crying is usually not a good thing when humans do it. At least, in my experience. Though, I've not had many joyous occasions to cry over," you avoid her piecing eyes.
"No. It is not a sad cry. It is one that happens when you touch the spots between a human's legs."
She speaks in a voice that edges with excitement. You inch closer towards her at the edge of the dock until your legs brush her chest.
"Do you - are you saying that you want to do that? You want to have sex with a human?"
She laughs again, "Yes. I want to know everything about you. How your legs feel when I wrap them around my waist, how the -"
"What?"
"What would you like me to call your sensitive place, sweet human?"
"Well it's -" you snort out a laugh. You can't believe this is happening.
"Most people refer to it as a pussy, but you can use whatever word you see fit,"
"May I take a look at it?" she asks, moving forward to close any space between the two of you.
"And while I'm at it," she maneuvers your legs so that they rest on her hips, stroking them with her palms. You expected more scales, but her palms are completely smooth.
Leaning towards you until her nose nearly brushed yours, she whispers, "is this ok?"
You nod eagerly as words fail you again.
"Gosh, your legs are so cute. It's like they were made to hold people - or merpeople between them," she looks down, admiring the connection of your limbs and her body.
"Human."
"Hm?"
"I asked you earlier, but I think you were too distracted. May I see your pretty, sensitive areas?"
You think for a moment.
"Only if you promise that you'll greet them with a kiss."
Her eyes beam, a faint white glow added to their usual milkiness. A high pitched purr rumbles from somewhere within her throat, and she smiled, barring all of her teeth.
You lifted yourself enough that she could pull off your bottoms, but she protested the action.
"Human. I think you misunderstand my kindness. Please, do as I ask like an obedient creature."
Your ass hit the dock with a thump. Why on earth were you listening to her willingly? Is she using magic?
You didn't have to ponder because with a airy whisper of the word, "lift" you found yourself rising again for her to do exactly what you tried to help her with.
"Good girl," she mumbled.
And it was if your head no longer existed for the second she saw pussy, she was in a trance. She sunk into the water, leveling her gaze with your cunt. Her eyes reflecting no trace of what she saw, yet you could feel the wind rolling onto your clit.
You were wet, and she loved nothing more in the world than water.
"Pretty," she said breathlessly, still moving closer until her lips were centimeters from your clit.
"Is this it, sweet human?"
You knew she meant your clit. You could feel her cold breath chilling you from the outside, in.
"Yes, miss," you tested the nickname.
She made no sudden movement and to say, "What a polite pearl you are."
That must've been her last thought, too because after that you felt bliss. Short kisses were being peppered onto your folds.
She was working her way down to your entrance, teasing your hole with her double pointed tongue before she spread her affection to your inner thighs.
Your hand reached out, resting lighting in her damp hair, and emitted another of those high-pitched whines.
You gripped her harder.
"Do not get greedy, human," she teased, lifting one of your legs from the water to kiss her way down to your ankle.
"If it is me you want, then I will give it to you with time."
Her movements never ceased, and within seconds she was back between your legs, lapping at your folds.
Delighted hums left you in waves, and with a shaking voice, you mumbled, "Clit. Please, suck on my clit."
"Silence," she whispered, shutting you up in an instant.
She obeyed nonetheless. Her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves while her tongue continued its journey. It was clear that she was being extra careful not to nip you with her teeth, but the tentative behavior only made you want more.
You began to pant, grinding your hips onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open unbeknownst to you, and while she continued to sail you towards an orgasm, one of her eyes bled into an inky blue.
Her efforts ceased, and your eyes opened immediately. It wasn't like you to outwardly pout, but the loss of contact had your lower lip trembling.
When you noticed her eyes, you felt like crying for an entirely different reason.
"Are you alright?" You said breathlessly.
She did not respond.
Her hands gripped your legs in a bruising fashion, and she yanked you into the lake once more.
Instead of drowning, you found yourself being held to her bare chest. She was looking down at you expectantly.
"I want to know what you're feeling, sweet pet."
Her tone was like molasses. Sticky and sultry. You were lost in her, and her gaze did not move from you.
Securing you in her arms, her tail found a home between your legs. As she positioned herself, a few of her scales glided across your cunt, and you moaned into her chest.
A breath was let out by her, and a strangled groan followed.
"Did you - did you feel that?" You searched her neverending pupils for signs of pleasure.
"A mermaid's tail is much more than a vice for swimming, pet. I can feel every contraction, every throb of your pretty pearl. I love it."
She closed her eyes, hugging you tightly while her tail moved back and forth against you. Every few seconds she would go farther out with her movements so that a stray scale would make contact with your clit.
It was as if you were grinding on her except she was holding you, suspended in the foggy lake.
"Miss, please. More. Need more," you begged.
Her tail moved faster. Meanwhile, her lips found yours, kissing you harshly as if to keep you quiet.
Your tongues found each other, swirling before she plunged hers into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning into her mouth as your wetness coated her scaled.
Her heartbeat was increasing, and you were a mess.
"Pet, I am not going to last much longer. Use those pretty legs to move yourself on me. Let us finish together."
She loosened her arms. You used the opportunity to place your hands on her abdomen, grinding yourself faster against her.
"Such a good pet," is all you heard amongst the splashing of the water. The bubbles had returned, and steam rose into the air. You felt the nerves in your pussy throbbing, and you knew that she could feel it, too.
"Let it out, sweet human. Finish for me," she cooed into your ear.
Your legs trembled, and you nearly gave out onto her as your orgasm crashed onto you. Your hand groped her breast, and she placed a shaking palm over yours.
Her tail vibrated, and you heard faint a whimper and whines as she gasped for air. She had cum.
"Keep going. Keep moving. I am almost done," she begged, rocking you.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of warmth and wet kisses, you both regained your breathing.
A tail and a set of legs stay intertwined in the sway of the waves, and she guided your hand up towards the moonlight.
The two of you stayed that way, enjoying the frog symphony and the crickets hum. Drifting to the center of the lake as you lay on her belly, watching as her webbed fingers toyed with yours.
"Thank you, sweet human," she said after a while.
You felt like you should be thanking her. After everything that's been happening to you, you finally felt real. You had been seen for the first time in a long time.
"If it is not too much to ask, may I see you again? I am sure there are many more parts of you that I could learn from."
You smiled to yourself.
"As long as I can learn from you as well. I'm sure you've got a ton of stories to tell."
She laughed. You were prepared to ask her about her family, but the familiar sound of tires on asphalt made you both freeze.
Mira and Noah. You had forgotten.
You felt your new companions heartbeat race. Turning to her, you took her cheeks in your hands.
"They're good people, but I understand why you might not want to be seen. I'll come back again tomorrow. This time, I'll bring you a gift."
"A gift?"
"Mhm. Something that you can keep or take to your sisters to show them,"
A few clicks sounded from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to yours.
"Fine, but take care of these legs, sweet human. I do like them very much."
She swam towards the dock with you on her back, shifting to set you on the wooden structure unharmed.
With a wink, she dove into the abyss of Lake Lost, and you heard Mira in the distance.
"Hey! Are you ready to go? Noah saw a park ranger coming this way."
Shit.
"Yeah! I'm coming," you glanced back at the lake, and a shimmer of lavender twinkled not so far away.
"Tomorrow" you thought to yourself.
You could look forward to tomorrow.
105 notes · View notes
wooahaes · 21 hours
Text
party hats & kitty cats
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: non-idol!lee know x fem!reader
genre: fluff. established relationship au.
warnings: food. one-off line about having kids in the future. discussion of expanding the family via adopting a new cat.
word count: 1.3k~
daisy's notes: oh to adopt a cat w lino....
Tumblr media
Minho shifted next to you, causing you to lift your head off of his shoulder. “Hold on,” he said, voice soft as could be so as to not disturb you (or, more likely, the cats asleep around you). “Keep your head held up.”
Which was what prompted you to open your eyes right as a string fell snugly against the underside of your chin. Minho pushed it back so it would sit more comfortably, continuing to manipulate the party hat on your head until it looked right. That was when you realized he was wearing one, too. 
“What?” 
You’d been drifting off a little too much despite the carnage going on the screen (the powers of a bad horror movie, for sure), halfway to dreamland when he moved. The first time, you hadn’t had to move too much—assuming that Minho had just been reaching for his drink. The second time, you thought he’d been putting it back. And now he was just watching you with this playful look in his eyes, proud at his own silly little joke. 
“Pretty,” he mused aloud. Then he leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips before getting up for real this time. The action earned a curious ‘mrrp?’ from Doongie, who had been sleeping at your feet until now, and Minho looked at him. “Doong-doong-ah, just stay there.”
Doongie promptly hopped down off of the couch to follow him instead, cat DNA requiring that he not follow orders from anyone but himself. You just relaxed against the couch, reaching a hand up to pet Soonie where he’d curled up to sleep. He raised his head lazily, purring once you began to scratch underneath his chin. Dori had popped his head up from where he’d been batting around a little mouse toy, watching Minho carefully as he moved about the kitchen with Doongie at his heels. You just found yourself smiling at the scene. Sometimes you joked that Minho fell in love with you once you met his cats and began to adore them almost as much as he does, but sometimes you truly think this relationship wouldn’t have lasted this long if you weren’t all-in on moving in with him and the three cats. You turned your attention back to Soonie for barely a second before you heard the click of a lighter.
And then a minute later, Minho began to sing to you. He made his way over, holding a small cake that was enough for the two of you. Doongie followed after him as he came back to you, all too curious and needing to know exactly what was going on in his home without him knowing ahead of time. Minho carefully lowered himself onto the couch next to you, holding up the cake for you.
“Did you make this?” You asked once he stopped singing.
He shook his head. “I was going to,” he said. “But I decided to focus on cooking dinner instead.” 
Good, you thought to yourself. The dinner Minho had cooked for you was a little elaborate. The idea of him making you a cake and dinner, especially when the cake was decorated a little extravagantly, would have been too much. He’d pouted at you when you went the extra mile on his birthday considering how much you’d been working lately, gently chastising you when you were left exhausted after everything.
“I don’t need anything that special,” he’d told you while the two of you were laying in bed, his arms wrapped around you. “Your health is more important to me.”
You turned a little to look at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t like it…?”
“I loved it,” he kissed the side of your shoulder. “I always love the things you do for me. But…” His fingers grazed against the skin, exposed from where your shirt has ridden up. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your wellbeing for me. Okay?”
You had made him promise to do the same, something he’d easily done and sealed with a soft kiss before snuggling in for the night. Now he sat before you, the candlelight illuminating his face more than the television screen did. 
“Make a wish already,” he’d lightly teased. “You can stare at me later.”
With a roll of your eyes, you turned your attention to the lit candles. For a moment, you debated on what to wish for before settling on something achievable, hopefully. You shut your eyes, blowing out the candles before the smell of smoke immediately greeted you. When you opened your eyes, Minho had reached for one of the forks he’d casually left on the coffee table earlier. You’d assumed at the time that he simply brought too many and would return it to its drawer later, but of course he was a step ahead of you. 
“So?” He pushed the fork into the cake, apparently intent on feeding you the first bite before he’d pass the fork to you. He held it up. “What did you wish for?”
“I thought telling you meant it wouldn’t come true?” You teased before closing your lips around the fork, sweet vanilla buttercream bursting over your taste buds as you enjoyed the first bite of your cake. This had to be the same bakery you ordered his birthday cake from last year. Their vanilla buttercream had a certain quality to it that you could never put your finger on (Felix would know, though: he’d complimented it at Minho’s party). 
“Is it something I can do?” He asked. When you played up your debate before nodding, he rolled his eyes, scooping up another bite of cake for you. “Then tell me.” 
“I was thinking…” You went to take the fork, only for Minho to pull it away from you. A hostage situation, apparently. Unfair. “We could maybe expand the family a little?”
He gave you the most confused look in response. “You said you didn’t want to have kids until later on—”
“Not kids,” you said. “Maybe… We could get another kitten?” 
Minho nodded along to the question, thinking it over. He pushed the fork back toward you, purposefully not letting go. You decided to oblige once more as you ate the bite of cake. “We’d have to see about fostering first,” he said, already figuring out the reality of adopting a new kitten when you already had three rambunctious cats around. “Find a space that the others can’t get to while we introduce them to each other…” 
Finally victorious in stealing the fork from him, you pushed it through the cake and held out a bite to him. The two of you had shared enough at this point anyway. “So we’ll look into it?”
He nodded. “I think we could. It’ll mean more work looking after them, but I think we could handle it.” He looked at Soonie, reaching up to scratch him between the ears. “Although if the cats don’t respond well, I don’t know if we could go through with it…” He hummed to himself for a moment, thinking harder about it. “Maybe a girl? It doesn’t matter either way, but maybe it’d be nice to have a girl cat around. We’d have to find one spayed or get her spayed when she’s older—”
“Minho.” 
He immediately turned back to look at you, realizing how lost he’d grown in kitten adoption thoughts. His gaze flickered back to the fork in front of him, and he smiled at you for a minute before leaning forward to accept the bite. “Thank you,” he said after swallowing. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” you giggled. “It’s cute that you care so much.” 
He lowered the cake he’d been balancing on one hand, carefully leaning over it so that he could kiss you. When he drew back, his eyes were all twinkly, so obviously giddy over the prospect of a new cat. Or maybe that was just the way Minho looked when he looked at you. His friends told you once that Minho adored you completely, and it was evident when they saw the way he looked at you.
“Happy birthday,” he said for the final time that night. “I love you so much.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky
67 notes · View notes
Text
Heavy Lies the Heart - Part 1
Tumblr media
Masterlist // Continue Reading
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: (eventual) canon death Summary: Two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance. Can they find purpose in each other, or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: This starts at the beginning of season 3, but some timeline things are a bit different here than in the series. Also I'm changing history--it's fine, it's basically in an alternate universe anyway.
A new season had begun, and it was with an all too familiar sense of annoyance that Benedict Bridgerton found himself arriving once again at the Danbury ball. If not for his mother's insistence and his desire to support Francesca in her first season out, he may not have come at all.
Benedict certainly had no desire to join the mart, and he found society and it's rules disingenuous at best, insufferable at worst. It was another season. Another ball. Another night of counting down the minutes while avoiding the attentions of the more emboldened debutantes and their scheming mamas.
Then again, what else had he to do? With his exit from the academy and Anthony's return, he felt rather unmoored. Adrift with no real purpose or goal. A second son with no role to fill or any steadfast ambitions. Even his younger brother Colin seemed to have truly found himself in his time abroad.
What would it take for Benedict to feel so secure?
The ball had barely begun, yet already Benedict found himself hounded by the attentions of the young ladies of the marriage mart. He suspected this was due, in no small part, to the transformation of his younger brother. Colin seemed to rather enjoy the attention, but Benedict found he did not feel the same. At the first opportunity, he made a quick exit, escaping to the safety of the garden. He stood alone, close enough to hear the music inside but far enough to feel the weight of expectation lift. He took in a deep breath of the crisp night air, and sighed in relief.
As he enjoyed his moment of peace, he heard a commotion from inside. Given the excitement of the guests inside, he could only imagine that the queen was finally in attendance. Always the most anticipated guest, yet always the last to arrive. He thought to avoid the fanfare, sipping the lemonade in his hand as he enjoyed the night's sky.
Benedict spend some time just appreciating the silence, but knew he would have to return soon. With things inside having quieted somewhat, he supposed it was a good of a time as any. He was also aware that certain members of his family would likely be cross with him if he disappeared for too long. He sighed, downing the last of his drink before turning to enter the fray once more.
He set his empty glass on a nearby table as he ventured through the crowd. He looked across the room, making eye contact with both Anthony and his mother. At the very least they would know he hadn't fled the grounds altogether.
He scanned the crowd, thinking he ought to at least check in on his three remaining siblings. Instead, his eyes landed on a young woman.
She was lovely.
Her golden hair was tied up simply, with a few stray curls falling to frame a heart shaped face. Brown eyes sat below worried, upturned brows as her full, rosy lips held a nervous smile.
She stood in a crowd of young men, the lot gathering around her like circling wolves as they vied for the attentions of their pray. The young woman looked anxious as she attempted to hold fast to decorum, her smile wavered but never completely disappeared. Benedict thought perhaps he should rescue the poor girl, but as more stragglers joined the crowd, he wondered if that would do any good.
Before making up his mind, he saw her address the crowd with a quick word, before turning and, as quickly as was proper, escaping into a group of debutantes. The men seem to argue with each other as they each tried to follow. But by the time they turned to do so, they had already lost sight of her.
But Benedict hadn't, his gaze following her as she weaved her way through the crowds.
She smoothly slipped between different clusters of people, clearly trying to avoid anyone's notice. Many did catch sight of her, but she swiftly moved on before they could entrap her in a conversation. Soon she made it to the wall, which she followed until she had disappeared into the same door Benedict had only just entered from. It seemed he wasn't the only one who desired the calm of the garden.
He debated for a moment if he should follow. She was clearly overwhelmed, and likely didn't want another man pestering her--not to mention unchaperoned. He came up with a few shaky reasons that were in favor of it, but he knew they weren't honest ones. In truth, it was simply that his curiosity had been peaked, and he was attempting to rationalize why it was that he should follow.
Curiosity won out in the end, and Benedict once again made his way back out into the night.
He saw her sitting on a stone bench near the door, her lilac dress flowing out around her. It wasn't one that ladies would consider currently in fashion; having an hourglass shape and a full skirt rather than the more simple, straight shape of the dresses most of the ladies inside were wearing. Still, he thought it quite suited her.
She looked like she had jumped straight out of a painting. Her face draped in moonlight as she stared up at the sky. A tear slid down her cheek, sparkling in the pale light, and Benedict suddenly felt quite ashamed of himself. He realized he had been selfish, planning to disturb the time she clearly needed to herself. He turned, intent to leave her to her thoughts. However, the scuff of his shoes was enough to get her attention and she turned suddenly. Her eyes caught his, and for a moment he stood frozen in her gaze.
Finally, he came to his senses and addressed her, his tone apologetic.
"Forgive me, miss. I did not mean to disturb you," he said quickly. She looked confused, but soon composed herself as she turned to wipe the tears from her face.
"No need to apologize sir," she began, turning to face him with a small, reassuring smile, "I was just getting some air."
Benedict took a few, small steps forward. He waited for her to object, but when she said nothing he took a few steps more. They were shoulder to shoulder, though he left a healthy amount of space between them.
"It's all rather stifling, isn't it?" he asked. He returned her smile, and she quickly turned her gaze down, running a gloved finger over the embroidered vines that decorated the bottom of her dress.
"Certainly more so than I had expected."
"Am I correct in thinking this is your first year? I don’t recall seeing you at one of these," he gestured vaguely at the manor, "before."
She looked back up at him, searching his face for a moment. Whatever she was looking for, she apparently found it. She smiled with a degree more enthusiasm.
"That's quite a skill, recalling the face of every young lady to grace such a grand event," she joked.
"I could say it was well practiced, but the truth is I would simply be unable to forget a face as lovely as yours," he replied. He could see her cheeks flush through the cool moonlight illuminating her face.
"You give compliments with such ease. Is that skill also well practiced?" she asked as she began to regain her composure.
"I may be prone to the occasionally bit of flattery, but in this case I am quite sincere." She looked away in clear embarrassment, and Benedict had to look down briefly to hide the grin forming on his face. "But I have made you uncomfortable, forgive me; I shall say no more about it." Her eyes moved back to him, "I certainly wouldn't blame you for being apprehensive under such circumstances--given what I saw in the ballroom, I imagine you've had quite enough of men and their compliments."
She looked back up at him, "You mean those gentlemen who were speaking to me earlier?"
"The same. They all seemed rather...frenzied to gain your favor."
"Yes, I suppose," she agreed, looking forlorn, "though I believe their intentions were quite different than yours."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, "Oh?" He thought a moment, "If it was not your looks that drew them, was it perhaps the allure of a large dowry? Or possibly some grand title to be inherited?" She actually laughed at that, albeit more to herself than as a sign of amusement.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that," she agreed, "though they may be disappointed; they would certainly be settling for second best. It is my elder sister's family who will inevitably inherit my father's title, and sadly for those gentlemen she has already married."
Benedict was quiet for a moment, looking over her self-effacing expression with understanding and, in spite of himself, a measured degree of affection.
He smirked, "I thought there must be some reason we get on so well; I myself happen to be a second son. Maddening, isn't it? Always feeling like the spare?"
She looked at him in surprise, before relaxing into a grateful smile.
"It certainly can be," she agreed. She hesitated a moment, before deciding to continue, "I often feel as if I don't know what to do with myself. I have always existed to be my sister's replacement, should the worst happen. Now that she is married and with child, a replacement is no longer needed. So what am I, now that I'm no longer what I was born to be?"
Benedict had to think on that for a moment. He was hardly one to advise someone in the exact predicament he found himself in. Still, he hoped he could give her some degree of comfort.
"You're free," he finally answered. She looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. They stared at each other for a long, quiet moment until at last she looked away.
"If only that were true," she said softly to herself.
At that moment, the sounds from inside grew louder. The young woman looked back into the light of the ballroom. She sighed, then looked at him with a soft smile.
"I suppose I should return; I'm sure at this point I'm quite missed," she stood, smoothing out the silken fabric of her dress. "It was a pleasure to meet you, mister…?"
"Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton," he said, his back straightening ever so slightly.
"Mister Bridgerton," she repeated, "Well Mister Bridgerton, I do look forward to speaking with you again sometime."
With that she made her way towards the door. Just as she reached the threshold, she stopped. She quickly turned back to him, "Oh, and perhaps you should wait before returning indoors--it would be unfortunate if anyone came to the wrong conclusion."
She was certainly right about that. As she turned back, a sudden thought occurred to him.
"Wait a moment--" Benedict called out suddenly, his hand raised to stop her. But it was too late, she had already disappeared into the warm light of the ballroom. "--what's your name?" He asked to no one, sighing as he turned.
He wandered over and sat on the bench she had been on only moments before. Resting his palms on the cool stone and leaning back on his arms, he couldn't help but grin. He turned his face up to the moon, hoping to meet the curious young woman again soon.
---
Benedict eventually made his way inside, thinking more than enough time had past. As he walk through the ballroom, he searched the crowd. With her nowhere in sight, he accepted that she must have already gone. With nothing else to keep his interest, he eventually wandered over to where his mother, Anthony, and Kate stood.
"And just where were you?" his mother asked, annoyance clear in her voice.
"We were quite sure you had run off," Anthony added, smirking. Benedict smiled, turning his face out to the dance floor.
"Not at all brother--I was simply enjoying the ball," he replied. Anthony and his mother shared a perplexed look, but Benedict didn't notice. His thoughts were otherwise occupied.
---
The young woman took the gloved hand that was offered as she carefully stepped into the opulent, golden carriage. She delicately adjusted her skirts as the queen looked her over.
"It was certainly different than what I had expected--but I did enjoy it very much," the young woman smiled, looking back at the queen, "Thank you for agreeing to bring me along, grandmama."
"So Beatrice, tell me--did you enjoy the ball? Was it everything you had imagined?" The queen asked, amused.
114 notes · View notes
hwanchaesong · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
☞🍹Third Drink: A distraction is all he wanted, yet you came in like a bourbon whiskey that gave him a massive hangover. 🍸
🎧: The Weeknd - After Hours
wc: 964
genre & warnings: angst, like angst no happy ending, clubbing, drinking, hints of toxic situationship, cursing, etc etc
a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
Tumblr media
Jeno stirred in his sheets. The air-conditioning's blow is cold, but he's weirdly feeling hot.. or maybe his head is hot because of annoyance and longing.
He cursed and grabbed his phone on his night stand, glaring at the time and checking your shared location that you forgot to turn off.
It's fucking 2:37 am and you're still up and partying around in some bar.
Oh, he hates it, and he's about to do something about it or else he'll finally lose his sanity for good.
He stands up from his bed, grabbing a nearby hoodie that was hanging in his gaming chair and leaving his apartment without freshening himself up.
He speeds towards the bar you're at, entering it without much problem because let's be for real, he knows the bouncer in these kinds of bars. He puts every last one of his friends and family's experience with the outside world with the amount of clubbing and partying he's done for the past month.
A month without you in his life, and he's regretting it since.
He doesn't know what kind of evil spirit had possessed him when he decided to break your heart. Choosing another girl that only loves him for his money.
Taking you for granted, laughing in your face at how stupid you are for thinking that you have a chance with him. Mocking you for allowing the one night stand and the dates that followed after.
He was the biggest asshole for treating you like shit yet here he is, traversing through the sweaty and disgusting bodies of the party-goers, in a herculean journey of finding you.
His eyes scoured the vicinity of the neon lighted building, looking for your familiar figure that he desperately wants to hold in his arms.
His heart skipped a beat when he had finally spotted you, holed up in the corner of a booth and drinking a cocktail all by yourself.
He immediately trudged in your direction, stiffly standing in front of you and he felt like dying when you made eye contact with him.
You're so fucking gorgeous.
Without his functioning rationality and your impaired brain in a haywire, he impulsively dragged you out of the bar while your whirling mind took a moment to discern what was actually happening.
Snapping out of it, you harshly tug your hand back, glaring at him with storms in your eyes when you realize that you're in the middle of a dimly lit street with him.
The road is something that you have seen before, the way to your former shared house with him.
"Jeno? What the fuck?" you rubbed your wrist, skin slightly red with how tight his hold was on you a while ago.
"Y/N." he calls your name, reaching out for you but you quickly back away, "Y/N please. Let's go home, yeah?"
He's kidding right now, isn't he?
Home is nowhere near him, it once was, but when he carelessly tossed your fragile heart out of the window, he became an asylum that you didn't want to go back to again.
"Leave me alone, will you? Gosh, I-I can't do this with you." you scoffed, blurry eyes due to the alcohol but the fresh early morning breeze somehow cleared your head.
You know that you can't give in to his puppy eyes, you're not weak anymore. You are not the Y/N that he knew.
Jeno frowned, not exactly liking the way you're rejecting him.
"Y/N, don't be stubborn. Please-"
"Save your begging Jeno. You should've done that ages ago when I was naive as fuck. But that won't work now." you cut him off, having enough of his bullshit for today.
You finally had the energy to go out and have fun after a month of grieving over him. Then he appears out of nowhere to ruin your delicately glued self after you worked so hard to put your pieces back together.
"I'm so sorry Y/N, please. Will you hear me out? no alcohol in Jeno's system but it seems like he's the intoxicated one, drunk off of you and he doesn't know what to do with the conflicting emotions he's having.
He took your silence as a cue to continue his mini rant.
"I am well aware that I have been nothing but a foolish dumbass towards you but.. it's hell without you. Please, take me back again. I promise I'll be a better man. I'll take care of you, I'll love you like how you deserve to be loved."
He is basically on his knees and you couldn't help but want to slap his handsome face.
His confession is everything but fake, his words are full of sincerity.
Breathing is difficult without you around. Heck, even doing the mundane things feels like a drag whenever he wakes up in the morning without you by his side.
He did everything to forget you. Drinking all day, spending shit tons of money over useless things. But it was never adequate, nothing is able to compensate for the emptiness he's feeling ever since you left.
He needed you the most in his life.
"Jeno.." you mumbled his name, your lower lip quivering and he almost stumbled his way over to you to comfort you, but your next sentence blew out any hope in his candle.
As much as you love him, you have to choose yourself over anything else.
"I'm sorry Jeno but I can't. I will never ever return to you again. I'll borrow your words from before."
You took a deep breath, turning on your heels so he's now facing your back before ultimately slapping him with the reality he's been denying.
"Why would I settle for anything less when I deserve the best?"
Tumblr media
taglist:
@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @mystverse @shakalakaboomboo
52 notes · View notes
bizlybebo · 1 day
Note
VIXENNNNNN!!! Before I return to the dishwasher I have a question. What are your PD boys + Ashe headcanons. Appearances? Idiosyncrasies? Anything? Please 🙏
Tumblr media
HEHEHEHEHEHE HIIIII IT’S 3:30 AM HERE (4AM BY THE TIME IVE TYPED THIS ALL OUT) BUT AAAAA I CANT NOT ANSWER THISS !!!!
okok here’s some off the top of my head:
-Dakota’s got a lisp + a bit of a hard time speaking overall. However, it also means he places a lot of importance on what people have to say since those willing to listen to him even if he takes a second are ones he wants to hear from the most, if that makes sense
-Ashe is naturally blonde. She’s got the exact same hair color as Mark, but she bleaches it. She also has green eyes like her dad, but she inherited her mother’s complexion and facial features (also her mom was hispanic. trust i’m bizlybebo).
-Vyncent’s not a huge fan of haircuts on Prime (loud environment + the icky thing where all the hairs get caught on your shirt), so for most of season 1, Tide took care of his hair. Without Tide to really take care of it during season 2, it grew out significantly. William and Dakota take turns trying to braid it now.
-Since Fauna’s pretty cloudy (as far as I remember), Vyncent’s not used to a lot of direct sunlight. He goes to the beach once on Prime and gets sooo sunburnt cause he Doesn’t Get the concept of sunscreen entirely.
-Dakota’s the shortest. This one’s literally canon but I personally like to think that PD in order from tallest to shortest is: Vyncent, Ashe, William, then Dakota. Will’s still like a good head or so taller than Dakota
-Vyncent is scared of multiple household appliances. He has beef with ceiling fans and toasters especially.
-William gets the tetris effect but for like solving mysteries. Whenever he’s really sleepy he starts rattling off random criteria or a synopsis of his general surroundings/anything he notices under his breath.
-Ashe, oddly enough, is the member of PD who goes the most all out for Christmas/holiday season. She loves decorating and making cookies and everything, since it’s her first opportunity to do it with friends and family again in a long time.
-It feels like everyone on here is saying this which makes me so happy cause it’s so real but: Southern William. ouugigohiifih it’s so real to me.
and then some rapid fire ones:
-William has ehlers-danlos. trust
-Dakota Cole freckles. you agree
-Scenemo Ashe and emo William. You agree
-Dakota is terrified of spiders (scooby doo jumps into Ashe’s arms), Ashe is the kind of person to take the spider outside, William just kinda freezes and decides it’s the spiders house now, and Vyncent probably fucking eats spiders
-William does specific makeup to make himself look more alive/masculine (tboy William real. trust)
-William and Ashe are both the kind of person to have one (1) hoodie they constantly wear and basically nothing else.
-Ashe makes kandi and made PD matching bracelets during s1 (smiles. don’t think about Dakota accidentally breaking it during s2 and how bad he’d feel)
-Vyncent collects jewelry (elf brain likes shiny shit or something) but doesn’t wear it often. He just. Keeps it on him and pulls it out to look at it sometimes all proud of it
-Dakota “accidentally” leaves his flannels in Ashe’s dorm all the time when he visits her so he has an excuse to come back. Ashe gives him one back and suddenly two more appear
-Williams actually very beautiful/handsome he literally just gets no bitches because he’s Like That.
40 notes · View notes
fanofstuff02 · 2 days
Text
Adam fell to his bed with a thud, as if he got shot. His whole body hurt, he wanted to knock himself out so badly. Angel did mention his body was an absolute shitshow in his first day too, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad. He could feel his eyes whimpering.
His mind was nothing better. He couldn’t help but have it fuzzy alI day. It was a goddamn confusing situation. And shocking.
One night, you’re out to get wild with two sinners and two winners, and when you wake up, you’re seeing those pearly gates. Enough to turn someone’s world upside down. It wasn’t in a bad way obviously, just drained his energy.
He groaned and turned to face the ceiling, placing both his hands on his stomach. He hoped he could drift off to sleep easily, he needed it.
As time passed by, his tiredness was defeated by a stronger feeling. That one feeling he tried to keep buried deep inside all day so it wouldn’t mess his “big achievement”
Loneliness.
He didn’t knew how long he’d been staring at it, but suddenly the plain white upper-wall was hurtful to look at. He teared his gaze biting his lip, subconsciously hugging himself with his wings.
He was happy, right? Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? This was his biggest goal for years. -And this was Heaven for fuck’s sake! You could have everything!
Everything…
Well why are you feeling hollow then asshole? Don’t act like you don’t know the real reason.
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice echoed in the suddenly emtpy room. “It’s nothing and you know it. Winners can visit Hell, remember that? Angel and Pentious just came from there. And Sera never had problems with them talking to Lucifer! It’ll be fine! I can see him. It’s no big deal. I just… Have to wait a little. Yeah. Yep. It’s probably because I’m new here.” He sat down in his bed.
But no words were enough to shut that shitty voice off. Seriously, why was he worrying about this that much? It was Lucifer! He’d find a way even if he wasn’t allowed. Which… Was sometimes trouble-bringing but still cute.
Cheap excuses, still lying to yourself, Adam. Why didn’t he told you about this happening then? He would if he knew you two would be able to keep in touch.
He shook his head and went for the light switch. He didn’t want an answer to that. No need.
He wanted to shut his conscious off so bad that he almost missed the small letter on his nightstand. It was red with golden accents, clearly a hellmade one. He took it in his hands and began eyeing it with a small curiosity. Then it hit him.
Hellmade.
He gripped it, almost ripping it off as he desperately wanted to reach the letter inside. Dammit this would be much easier if he still had his claws!
When he finally got rid of that goddamn paper, he quickly began reading. Finally some real explanation.
He smiled briefly when he recognized the handwriting.
To my dear Adam,
As I write this, Angel’s standing at my side. He knows this is a love letter but he’s still sneaking peeks. Honestly, I’m still wondering what Husk sees in him.
That said, he did gave me his word that he’d deliver this letter to you. He says he owes me, for the time I took care of that mothman for him.
You must be really, really confused right now. I’m sorry that I didn’t told you about this happening, I was afraid you’d hate me because I knew it for weeks now. Please forgive me. It was just… Hard to let go of the best thing in my life. But I’m not regretting it.
I can’t write much, heck it would cost me lots of pages if I tried to, but I want you to know I’m so glad you made it, little lamb. I bet you look awesome as an angel.
Love you,
Lucifer.
————
Yeaaaahhhh something from the middle of my recent work. Just gonna drop it here since it’s nowhere near done.
Is this good? I hope so.
38 notes · View notes
ironbabey · 3 days
Text
July
Peter Parker x Reader
angst, maybe fluff?
Word Count: 1k
Inspired by the song July by Noah Cyrus
~~~~~~~~
I've been holding my breath, I've been counting to ten, over something you said
“So uh, what do ya say? Wanna give it a shot?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes-
“I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m gonna have to say no.”
No. He said no.
It took you months to work up the courage to finally tell him how you felt, ironically you told yourself the worst he could say was no. Fuck, it hurt.
You were crushed. “Oh uh, that's okay. We can just stay friends.” It’s not okay, you don’t want to be friends. Well, you do. You also wanted-no, hoped- for something more.
He smiled, god you loved that smile. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat, even breaking it at the same time.  “Glad this won’t change our friendship. I care about you a lot.” He says, you can hear the pity in his voice.
He cared, just not in the way you wanted.
I've been holding back tears, while you're throwing back beers, I'm alone in bed
You were always told rejection hurt but you didn’t think it’d be this painful. Peter went out while you were sulking in your bed. There’s more fish in the sea, right? You shouldn’t have fallen for him, everyone told you not to, and yet here you are.
How could you be so stupid?
Of course he didn’t like you.
You were nothing compared to her.
You didn't have the perfect teeth, the perfect hair, the perfect skin, the perfect...anything. You were just you.
You stupidly thought that it would be enough for him, she didn't even remember him, but you made new memories with him.
You know I, I'm afraid of change. Guess that's why we stay the same
You two were fighting now. It's your fault anyways. You lashed out on him just because he hadn’t reached out to you since that day. He's ignored your texts, calls, hell you even tried an email for the fun of it. He stilled ignored you.
The day you confessed really fucked things up.
You decided to be the bigger person and show up at his door. He would've known you were going over if he read your messages.
“I thought we agreed that wouldn’t change us. You said you wanted to be friends so why are you being such a dick?”
 “I’m being a dick? Oh, that’s real funny coming from you. I have a life full of other people, not just you. I don’t see why I have to be the one to do everything.”
You bit your lip and looked at the ground, embarrassed that you were acting childish, “No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
So, tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road
Peter let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, the soft hair you used to play with during the times you'd study together. “I think you should go. I can’t handle this—you—right now.”
You refused to cry in front of him. “Yeah, okay.” You grabbed your bag and slammed the door shut on your way out. You fucked everything up, didn’t you?
Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know
A week went by, and he finally texted you, asking you to go over and talk it out. In the end you were still his best friend, and he didn't want to lose you.
You picked up a photo that was in a beautiful golden frame on the coffee table, you knew who the woman was, Peter talked about her all the time, and it killed you. You thought he was over her.
 “What are you doing with that?” He grabbed the framed photo from your hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
You blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out, “It was just sitting here, she’s pretty. Really pretty.”
Peter smiled, “Yeah, she was. The greatest too.”
‘Cause you remind me everyday, I’m not enough but I still stay
You two sat in uncomfortable silence. He wanted to make up, wanted things to be normal again, but you had other plans. You wanted answers. “What does she have that I don’t? What’s so different?”
He groaned. “Please, don’t start this right now.”
You stood up from the couch, “No! I want to know why you’re after someone who moved on. Someone who doesn't even rem-“
“She was the only one there for me through all of it! She helped me from beginning to end! I ruined everything just to make sure she got into the school she worked so hard for!" His voice went soft, he couldn't hold back the tears that went streaming down his face. His brown eyes were hardly visible through them, "She was all I had. She was the only girl that ever looked my way and actually liked me.”
Then what am I?
I've done a lot of things wrong, Loving you being one. But I can't move on
“What?”
“Then what am I?”, you repeated deep down you knew you were being a little selfish, but he had no right to say you didn't care, “I’ve been there for you. I’ve laughed with you, cried with you, I even fought with you and you’re still tossing me aside?”
“Listen-“
“No! You listen to me! I’ve done nothing but love and care about you but clearly that’s not enough! Nothing is ever enough for you! I-I’m not enough.”
Peter stood to hug her. To tell you that you was more than enough. To tell you he was just afraid of being more than what you were now.
If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and baby, I'll go
You moved away from his attempted hug. How dare he cry when it was him who was hurting you? “N-No, you don’t get-get to cry.” you choked out through your own tears.
“I’m sorry please just understand.” He begged.
“Tell me to leave. Tell me you don't want to see me again and I’ll stop. I’ll leave you alone just like you want.” That’s not what he wanted, not at all. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if you left him too.
“That’s not-I want you to stay.”
You remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
35 notes · View notes