#I kind of wonder what something like this Taken Very Seriously (like how I did TEG) would look | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bosbas · 5 months

Text

Chapter 10: writing letters addressed to the fire

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, pining, like a lot of pining, anthony being controversial

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: they're so in their evermore era i can't

July 7, 1814 - The expectations were as high as the chandeliers at the Bridgerton Ball two nights prior. And the night did not disappoint. Our forgone diamond of the season made an appearance at the social event. A fact that is expected given the close relationship between the Beaumonts and Bridgertons, but a pleasant surprise given her recent absence from social happenings. While previously the center of attention, Miss Beaumont danced only once at the Bridgerton Ball with one Mr. Alexander Beaumont. Yes, dear reader, her brother. This leaves us with the lingering question: why did Miss Beaumont choose her brother over the allure of a potential match? It seems that Miss Beaumont is simply tired of the ton's social scene, or perhaps she has lost some of her shine now that her best friend has left for the countryside.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb on his lower lip. Finally meeting your eyes, he said, "Well, I was wondering if you'd want to marry me."

You choked, completely taken aback. "Are you alright, Anthony?" you asked, nervously laughing. "Was the whiskey too strong for you after all?"

He pinched his nose, annoyed at your flippant response, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Be quiet! I'm trying to help you!" he said, laughing.

You were in hysterics now, too. "Help me?! Help me how, pray tell," you managed to get out between giggles.

"You are impossible! How Benedict deals with you so regularly, I have no idea!" he shot back, poking you in the arm as he said each word.

You gasped in mock offense. "Low blow, Anthony, even for you," you said, shaking your head at him, unable to keep from laughing. "Surely you're joking. Why should I let you marry me?"

"Let me marry– Bloody hell, Y/N, and excuse my language, but really, I am coming from a good place here, and you are making it so difficult," he responded, clearly exasperated by your inability to take him seriously.

You ceased laughing and looked at him directly, cocking your head and widening your eyes when you realized he was being sincere. "Anthony? Surely you're joking, right? Does Alex know? He'll kill you if he finds out you proposed to his little sister."

He sighed deeply, shifting in his seat. "Look, I am not joking. But let me explain first, and then you can ask me questions."

You could do little but stare at him, lips parted in confusion. "Go on, then," you said finally, very interested in hearing an explanation for this incredibly unexpected proposal.

Anthony looked over to where Alex was sitting, deep in conversation with your father, and then looked back to you. He turned in his seat so he was fully facing you, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his knee, contemplating how best to explain himself without sounding insane. "I know it sounds like a crazy idea. Trust me, I can barely imagine it myself. But I do think it might be a good one," he said finally, hoping to get some kind of response from you, only to be met with a blank stare. You were still entirely unconvinced of his proposal, barely believing that he was being serious.

"Listen, what you said two nights ago is not something I take lightly, given that you mean so much to us, to me and Benedict and our family. And I can see that you're having a rough go of it. The roughest go of it, actually," he continued.

"And you think marrying me will solve my problems because...?" you cut in, not quite following Anthony's logic.

"Well, I've been trying to explain my thought process for the past five minutes, but you're making it awfully hard, Y/N," he shot back, raising his eyebrows at you, amused. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly in response but sat back so you could let him continue.

"This might make more sense if I explain my side of things a bit more, actually," he decided, mentally rearranging what he was going to say to you. "Alex and Simon already know this, but my intention has never been to marry for love. Above all, I view marriage as a duty to my family. Since my father passed, I have been the one responsible for them, and they are the dearest thing in the world to me, as you well know."

At the mention of Edmund, you reached out and placed a hand on Anthony's, remembering how difficult it was for the family when his father passed. He shot you a grateful smile, covering your hand with his and clearing his throat before he continued speaking.

"I will be perfectly candid with you, Y/N, because you deserve nothing less. I was planning on looking for a wife next season, but even so, I believe that pursuing love is an unpleasant and unimportant endeavor, at least for me."

You gasped, slightly taken aback at his cynical views, though yours weren't much sunnier. "Don't you want to fall in love, Anthony? Don't you think you'll find a partnership like the one your parents had?" you prodded, overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. But you also felt somewhat understood, knowing now that Anthony had an unconventional view of marriage.

He gave you a knowing look, saying only, "Don't you?"

Knowing he had a point, you let up. "Fair enough, I suppose," you answered. Is that how you sounded when you spoke of getting married? You were completely disillusioned with the notion, but you had given it more than a few honest tries, while Anthony was set on never looking for a love match. It was quite ironic, seeing how much your parents loved each other and the love between Daphne and Simon, that you and Anthony had developed such depressing views on marriage. You saw Anthony nod in your direction, seemingly happy with your answer.

After a slight pause, Anthony winced, knowing he was about to share much more than he usually would. However, he knew that this would potentially benefit you both, so he fought through the discomfort. "Seeing my mother fall apart after Father died was awful to watch, and I would never want to cause someone that pain. My goal is not to find passion but to secure my family's future. And I was hoping to find someone who would want this different sort of partnership," he said, looking at you pointedly. You had already started connecting the dots in your head and thought you were catching on to where this was going now.

"So you want to have an unconventional marriage together, then?" you asked, hoping you had understood correctly.

He patted your hand, relieved you finally understood what he intended the proposal to sound like rather than the abrupt and blunt question he had asked earlier. "Yes, precisely. Of course, I want you to take as much time as you need to consider this decision since it is quite important. I doubt we would seek an expedited marriage license, but obviously, we can sort out the minutiae later if you decide to do this. There is no pressure one way or another, I simply wanted to give you an option you had probably not considered before," he said, searching your face for any reaction.

However, you remained guarded, still unsure about your feelings. Saying yes to this proposal would definitively mean saying no to Benedict. But Benedict had not even asked you anything, you argued internally. There was nothing to say no to. In fact, he had been the one to say no to you. But you didn't know if you were ready to give up all hope yet. Perhaps you were a fool, but then again, you always were when it came to your best friend.

If you accepted Anthony's proposal, would the now-permanent ache in your chest worsen at the knowledge that you could never have Benedict? Or would you feel better, getting closure Benedict would never give you?

You felt a surge of anger shoot up your spine. Why couldn't Benedict be the one asking you this? After twenty years, why was he the one who left you alone and confused while Anthony was left to pick up the broken pieces of you Ben left behind so carelessly? Even setting aside the added issue of your unrequited feelings for Benedict, Anthony was being a much better friend than him right now. But your anger dissipated quickly, dissolving into desperate sadness. You missed Ben so much; the short letters he had been sending were unsuccessful in placating the ever-growing need to feel his presence beside you. The overwhelming sense that something about you was missing was almost too much to handle, and you felt yourself going around in circles in your head about what you wanted to do.

You knew it could never be the same with Benedict regardless, so you reasoned that you would at least consider Anthony's proposal. You owed it to yourself to consider someone other than Benedict and something other than perpetual singledom without any children to raise or read to.

Realizing Anthony was patiently waiting for you to say something in response, you spoke up. "In theory, this doesn't sound like a terrible partnership," you started, laughing when Anthony snorted and muttered a short "Why, thank you."

"Shush! I'm trying to consider your proposal, and you're making it quite difficult to spend longer than twenty minutes with you, let alone the rest of my life," you joked, stomach dropping slightly when you mentioned the concept of forever. Pushing through your fear, you kept speaking, "I know you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I know you would not do something like this without a plan. So tell me your plan, and I will consider it and give you my answer once I have one."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your scolding tone, "You're not wrong." However, he knew he had to be careful about how he presented his reasoning for this proposal. It was no secret that he thought his brother a complete buffoon for refusing to marry you. Anyone could see that your best friend was madly in love with you, and Anthony was beyond confused as to why Benedict was being obtuse and frankly stupid when you so clearly loved him just as much.

It was hard to miss the alarmingly fond looks the two of you exchanged, not to mention what must be dozens of sketches of you in Benedict's studio, try as he might to make it look like there weren't that many. But what really made it the most obvious was Benedict's manner of speaking about you. It was beautiful to hear when Ben forgot himself and spent nearly an hour discussing a fascinating observation you had made about one of his paintings. Or when he saw Eloise reading a book you had read and launched into a speech about your genius way of interpreting a particular passage. Or even when Anthony inquired about any of the paintings of you in his studio and his brother began a lengthy explanation of how he wanted to paint your eyes in a way that captured your thoughtful yet soft gaze, in Ben's words. Benedict's unwavering and wholehearted admiration of you rivaled that of his parents. It seemed to Anthony that you were the sun, and Benedict was happy to be in your orbit if only to relish in the warmth and comfort you brought him. And the same could be said for you.

So, choosing his words carefully, Anthony avoided saying anything that would upset you, knowing you were still raw from Benedict's sudden departure a few weeks ago. "To start, a legal union between our families would only strengthen our bond, and I know we both would still like to remain close with our families after we are married."

Gauging a positive reaction from your raised eyebrows and slight nod, he continued. "Perhaps the most obvious advantage is that we would have the marriage we both want. I would, of course, encourage you to continue pursuing your studies after we were married, and though I would like to have children, and I know you do as well, I am in no particular rush if you don't feel ready yet," he continued.

To be fair, Anthony made a compelling argument. Although your ideal marriage was still the one you had imagined with Benedict as a child, Anthony was realistically the best option for you, especially with the men of the ton being as dreadful as they were and Ben off in the countryside for who knows how long.

"I don't want to feel suffocated by my husband, Anthony," you warned, earning a laugh from him.

"I know you think I'm insane, but I promise I don't want to be a suffocating husband. We want a lot of the same things, just for different reasons," he responded, ready to answer any and all rebuttals you had. Anthony knew this would be a difficult decision, and he had come prepared with the utmost patience to ensure he got rid of all of your doubts to the best of his abilities. Having watched you grow up and grown up alongside you, he had a deep fondness for you, often feeling as protective over you as he did over Eloise or Daphne. Anthony cared about you and wanted the best for you, no matter what that might entail. And if he could find a wife a season earlier than he had expected while you got what you deserved, that was just an added bonus.

In the back of his mind, Anthony hoped that if you accepted his proposal, Benedict might come to his senses before the engagement progressed too far. But he would be a fool to count on his brother to do so, based on how Ben had acted so far. Anthony knew it would be cruel to tell you this and raise your spirits only to be disappointed again. If it came to it, Anthony would be happy to marry you. It was a very practical union, and Anthony quite liked practical things.

"It makes sense, in a way, I suppose. We do want similar things," you muttered to yourself. "And you'd let me read as much as I wanted?" you asked, needing reassurance.

"I promise," answered Anthony, smiling sweetly at you. "Besides, we are already very acquainted with one another, having grown up together, and I'm sure it'd be good fun to be married. Well, at least I think so. And you know me well enough to be able to make that decision for yourself."

You nodded thoughtfully, mulling over all of the possible caveats you could think of to bring up to Anthony. If you were going to go through with this, you needed to be absolutely sure that it was what you wanted. Although it was getting difficult to find negatives about this possible union. It seemed that you would have much more agency with Anthony than if you were married to anyone else, bar Benedict, or as a spinster.

"What about Alex?" you settled on asking. "Have you talked about this with him?"

Both of you subconsciously turned to look at your older brother and then at each other. Anthony gave a slight shake of his head. "No, not yet. But I have a feeling he'll understand and even be supportive. Especially after the other night. And especially now that Benedict left."

You furrowed your brow, confused. What did Anthony mean, especially now that Benedict left? You were about to ask for clarification when Anthony cut in.

"Anyway, don't worry about Alex. I will talk to him and your father, and I know they will be on board with whatever you choose. So all you have to do is decide if this is something you want to do or not," he said quickly, trying to make up for the fact that he had revealed too much before. Anthony knew Alex had similar feelings to Anthony, perhaps even more pent-up anger at Benedict than he did since Benedict was hurting Alex's little sister. But he hadn't meant to tell you so directly. Anthony mentally kicked himself for rubbing salt on your metaphorical wound. Although it seemed that you had let go of his comment, for now, he noted as he watched you rubbing your temples, deep in thought.

You sighed deeply, coming to the realization that this could be it. This decision could change your life forever, and perhaps Benedict's life, depending on how he handled the news. If you accepted the proposal, of course. You couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt, knowing that you could never feel for Anthony the same way you felt about Benedict.

"And you'd be alright with me not being in love with you? I don't think I can do that again. After Benedict," you said softly, still wanting to avoid thinking about losing him as much as possible.

"Yes, I would prefer it, actually," said Anthony, smiling at you. But his playful demeanor was wrapped in a careful tenderness. He understood you better than most people, having learned to see you, above all, through Benedict's eyes. He knew you were terrified. Of being married and not being married, of losing yourself and of staying exactly the same as you were now.

He was terrified, too, to be honest. He knew Benedict would be impossibly angry with him, even though he really had no reason to be, and feared their relationship could be fractured. Not to mention that Anthony had been dreading marriage ever since that fateful day his father fell ill from a bee sting, leaving his mother alone in the empty shell of their loving partnership. He supposed the two of you did sort of make sense in a peculiar way.

"Alright, go away, please," you shooed Anthony away. "I have to actually think about it now. But no matter what happens, I want you to know I'm grateful for your offer. I know it's coming from a very generous place, and it really does mean the world," you added, squeezing his hand as he stood up.

"Of course, Y/N. I'm not Benedict, but you're very important to me nonetheless. Take as much time as you need," he responded, returning your squeeze and making his way over to Colin and Theo, giving you space to mull over your decision.

That was precisely the situation, you thought. Anthony wasn't Benedict. And you had to decide whether or not that was good enough for you. It was a very compelling offer, and you knew it might be your only chance to have anything close to the sort of life you had hoped to have before Henri and the rest of the men of the ton so pointedly crushed your dreams. Benedict was the only reason not to marry Anthony, and he had been quite clear in saying that he wouldn't marry you. But you wanted to enjoy a few more days of imagining that Ben could be yours in some capacity before you had to move on from him forever.

---

Shoving a pile of unsent letters aside, Benedict set a fresh sheet of paper down and started yet another letter he was unlikely to send to you. Now that he had ceased going to parties and bringing home a different woman every night, he found himself with ample bouts of time that he dedicated almost exclusively to thinking about you.

With each new letter you sent, Benedict found himself lost in your words, re-reading them constantly and clinging to any fragment of you that he could still claim as his. In response, he wrote pages and pages of prose he would never send. These ranged from letters he could plausibly send to you, responding to every comment you had made about the book you had read that day. Others were less tame. Sometimes, he found himself unable to keep his overflowing feelings inside of him any longer, choosing instead to write heart-wrenching confessions of a love so deep and all-consuming that it permeated every fiber of his being. But Anthony's words reverberated in his head, warning him not to lead you on, every time he contemplated addressing these letters.

But Benedict loved you. The real, soul-crushing sort of love that only came once in a lifetime. The kind of love that grew from years of being by your side, knowing every detail of you, and still wanting to know more. He was far past the point of denying it and had now stumbled on an agonizing feeling of wanting. He wanted you by his side while he painted, quietly discussing the colors or the shading he was working on. He wanted to put his head in your lap as you sat in the garden, feeling your fingers running softly through his hair. He wanted to look over at night and find your sleeping form beside him, less than an arm's length away as he fell asleep holding you. Most of all, he wanted to be content in the knowledge that he could hold your hand, breathe in your scent, and twist your hair in his fingers as he kissed you every single day for the rest of his life.

The moment in your garden by the rose bushes from the day before he left, where he came so close to kissing you, haunted his every waking moment. He couldn't seem to forget the way your lips parted, moving ever so slightly closer to his. The feeling of your soft breath against his skin, luring him in. He had been so close to just giving in and touching your expectant lips with his. It was all he had dreamed about doing ever since he had come back from Oxford and felt you in his arms, realizing that he never wanted to spend another day apart from you. He still wondered what would have happened if he had just done it. If he had just leaned over a few inches to join your lips and brushed his thumb on your cheek as he grabbed your waist. But he hadn't. Instead he had fled to the countryside, where he was missing you more than ever and ridden with jealousy at the thought of you with another man.

Benedict didn't know if the ache of longing would ever fade. All he knew was that you were a permanent mark left on him he would never be able to wash off even if he wanted to. A part of him would always be you. The proof of that was on his desk cluttered with letters that would never find their way to you and in his studio housing nearly a dozen unfinished portraits of you.

Clutching to a sliver of hope, he held onto the fact that no news of your engagement had reached him. Yet, each day brought with it a tormenting dread as he approached his unopened letters, torn between the desperate hope for a letter from you and the paralyzing fear that he would receive an invitation to your wedding. But for now, he could still pretend you were his, at least partially.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirllorianna

292 notes · View notes

brittle-doughie · 5 months

Text

Infinity and Beyond - Looking Into The Sweet Signals from Space Update!

We’re finding the imposters among us with this one!

The aim of this concept is to have it be a multi-update deal akin to the Dragons storyline with how they say “like the dragon series, we’re diving into a story set in a rich, expansive universe”. This peaked my interest, I’d love to see what they have in store! I know there are some folks who like or don’t like the Dragons story, so I wonder what you all think of this!

Meet Astronaut Cookie! She’s cute, has an ice cream sandwich satellite for a pet, even has a cat cookie motif with her costume? What more could you want! Yeah, her skill might be a bit too reminiscent of Cyborg’s (who also got a skin after 84 years lol), but I’m willing to look past that.

Alright, I’m kind of vibing with the setting already, cookies are probably toothpaste, wonder if they clean your teeth when eaten. How does one “escape” or even fortify against a blackhole? The event itself sounds similar to the Sugar Maze event to me…in a way somehow. Wait, why is Stollen Cookie here?Also Planet H A M B O R G A R

I’m now getting Star Wars: Rogue One flashbacks. Just like Cyborg, it’s been 84 years since he got attention, so I’m happy to see he got a cool skin to deck himself out with!

The Surprise Bears. They can either go well or go very poorly, still means I don’t have to run over and over again for the god damn legendary ingredients. However, I do hope the challenges aren’t meant to be a cap in any way, since that already drags it down when you were able to AFK for hours beforehand, even if it sucked. Team Fight getting a gem boost might give me more incentive to play.

(Gmod flatline sound effect plays)

The Deal with Legendaries is canceled, y’all /j. I can’t keep up with their pace, bro. I’m over here trying to write it from time to time and they already have another one on the way, I’m dead. Xylitol Nova himself is getting flak for having a supposedly dull design unworthy of the rarity, I’m already seeing it in the QRTs on Twitter lol. For me, I’ll wait until I cast judgment, he has a pretty cool skin though…

———————————————————————

(Astronaut Cookie looked all around her new setting, seeing the city’s sleek, clean, futuristic design she hasn’t seen much of back on Earthbread. The cookies here didn’t look all that different too, save for their ingredients being possibly toothpaste in some capacity. She was caught staring at this one cookie in particular, she observed them inspecting the shield and instructing the robots to different spots close to the barrier, Xylitol Nova Cookie chuckled at her once he noticed.)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Ah, I see you’ve taken an interest in one of my cookies. That would be Xylitol Y/N Cookie, they’re in charge of making sure the barrier is in peak performance, they’ve been hard at work ever since we’ve seen reports of the blackhole.

(Xylitol Nova walked over to them as Astronaut followed. Meanwhile, you were instructing both cookies and robots alike on the status of the barrier, making sure that no fault in any way was detected. Until the voice of someone very familiar to you called your name..)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Hello, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. How are you doing?

(You greeted Xylitol Nova in return and proceeded to ramble on about the barrier. You did your best at trying to speak to him, but couldn’t ignore that cookie next to him staring at you. It also looked like Xylitol Nova wasn’t taking your analysis seriously with that smile of his, something that bothered you to no end!)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: How routine of you, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. Always thinking about the barrier when we haven’t had any issues in the past couple rotations. We have a guest here today and I’d like for you to meet her-

(You couldn’t, you had to inspect the rest of the barrier-when Xylitol Nova Cookie suddenly hugged you from behind with a strong grip, a scene that made Astronaut Cookie feel…envious. You complained and grumbled as you try fruitlessly to free yourself)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Xylitol Y/N Cookie. You are taking a break from now until further notice, I’d hate to use my authority on you, but this is for your own good. Feel free to interact with your fellow cookies, come and see me in my residence, or even introduce yourself to our guest here~! (I’d prefer you pick the second option in my opinion)

(You continued to struggle until it felt tighter to move, you looked to your front to see Astronaut Cookie hugging you from the front, her head resting on your chest. You swear she’s…shaking a little bit?)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: What do you know? Even our visitor is agreeing with me, she appears to have taken a liking to you too.

(…Who was this?)

#brittle speaks #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x reader #crob #astronaut cookie #xylitol nova cookie #cookie run update

188 notes · View notes

chemicallywrit · 2 months

Text

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! I heard so many good shows this week, let’s goooooo

🥃 I started listening to @breakerwhiskey this week, and I’m on episode 21 (which is nothing, it’s microfic), and it is so compelling. Lauren Shippen said in episode zero that she misses the improvisational feel of early audio dramas and that really comes through in this show—the wandering of the story reflects the wandering of Whiskey herself. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

🎵I am not alone in my reaction to the new season of @hellofromthehallowoods, which I think goes something like, “Wh—who—but—Arnold?????” (Seriously, Arnold???) but I love a mystery, and I love how linear this season is starting out. I’m sure that it’ll all get more complicated soon.

💔 Have you all heard Josie’s Lonely Hearts Club? It’s a call-in advice show from a fictional radio station and it is HILARIOUS. Until this last episode, which got SAD. It's a partially improvised show, so the whole thing feels so incredibly human and it always hits. Please listen, more fictional advice shows all around.

🐺 The Midnight Burger/The Amelia Project crossover was exactly as delightful as I expected. We got two shows that love historical figures and putting people in the deep freeze. What could go wrong! Absolutely nothing. With a crossover episode I always wonder if there will be enough character interaction to slake my insatiable character dynamic thirst and for this one I definitely think there was.

🍺 Inn Between dropped an episode of Dragon’s Rest on their feed this week, and I'm here to say that we did that because it's frikkin hilarious. This last episode was so good, especially with Shax trying to talk to a bartender and the bartender getting mad that Shax was complaining about her friends and not having a professional business conversation. I love you, southern-sounding bartender, and I love you Shax.

🩸Hemophobia continues to scare the heck out of me. This series, Camp Havenside, ended exactly how I expected it to, with the extra twist of that horrible half-possessed state Sam is in. Lordt. Listen to this show. Mind the content warnings. Then like, message me about it, it has taken permanent residence in my brain.

🎭 Oh Malevolent, you never disappoint me. I adore the twists the season finale took, and the real danger Arthur and John were in had me on the edge of my seat. How are we gonna get outta this one boys! Frikkin Kayne.

💎 As it ever is, @kingmakerpod was a blessing visited upon my podcatcher. Oh man though, Lucas Lando, what a scuzbag. Like maybe the worst villain yet in this series for me, and I'm including the psychic child. Lando's just unsavory. The action scenes in this episode were excellent, and I love the use of Pocket Cinnamon. For a minute when they were looking for things in the barn that don't conduct electricity, I was very worried for the cows. Honestly now a little surprised they didn't explode a cow. Hey guys, why didn't you explode a cow?

🌈 I've been listening to this actual play, @ourstoriedinsight, and it's about all the typical actual play stuff--a party of misfit adventurers, thrown together by circumstance, trying to stop the end of the world. What stands out about this one is its wonderful sound design and its tone--it's so introspective and kind. The characters are great too. I would die for Vishakapar. If you like an actual play and you don't want to wait for it to get really good, please check out Our Storied Insight.

As for personal news, boy oh boy am I working hard on the Dead! Pray for our recording schedule these next couple weeks. As for Inn Between, we'll be putting up an episode this week that is a true banger, I hope you like it.

That's it for me this week! If you like what I do, send me a tip!

#audio drama sunday #audio fiction #fiction podcast #audio drama #breaker whiskey #hello from the hallowoods #josie's lonely hearts club #dragon's rest #hemophobia podcast #malevolent #the kingmaker histories #our storied insight

81 notes · View notes

alexxncl · 1 month

Text

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 33 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | lesson 32 | lesson 34

slight og lesson 16 spoilers

normal and hard spoilers

see i knew he wouldn't rat them out completely. he completely left out the details of the pacts and feeling used and would've taken the blame if mc and solomon hadn't stepped in to fully explain the situation

(i made a whole post about time soup here)

omg in-game name drop the devs remember the lore

i hate mephisto. have i mentioned how much i hate mephisto? bc i hate him /j

in all seriousness, we love a petty bitch. but why is it his WHOLE personality. that, and ass kissing. like we get it, you love diavolo and wanna date him and kiss him and hug him blah blah blah STAND UP

satan :((((

i wonder if he feels remnants of homesickness that he can't recognize as homesickness bc of the way he was formed. what if he's feeling homesickness right now in the timeline mc is from and is now able to understand how his brothers felt after the fall?

what if this is the first time the boys in the og timeline have felt homesick since the fall? yes, mc has left before, but there was always a guarantee that they'd return, or at least a possibility that mc could summon them. but now? there's no guarantee, and there's a time crunch

ASMO 😭 they're so unserious i love them

levi thinking he was gonna die trying to apologize and dia standing there like 🧍🏾

oh they definitely know. and if both dia and barbatos don't know, barbatos obviously knows. bc why else wouldn't barbatos suggest portaling mc to the human world himself? and i bet lucifer's wondering the same thing given his confusion on how fast the conversation came and went

got to see my wife, i can die happily now

WHY IS THERE NO AFFINITY FOR HER GODDAMN IT

or the other side characters ig but i care about her more

SEE SEE I TOLD YOU!!! nightbringer you sneaky bitch

oh that's scary...real scary. if belphie's got lucifer this fucked up, how strong are his powers ??

WAR FLASHBACKS

also this means he didn't lose control of his powers, he's choosing to only subdue his brothers, which is even scarier imo. like there's no way mc doesn't have some kind of ptsd from what happened in lesson 16 of the og game

imagine seeing your best friends, your found family, your partner(s) sobbing over your dead body while someone you thought you trusted is maniacally laughing at the scene, proud of murdering you

and then imagine the same person lunging for you to try and kill you after he already killed another version of you

and then imagine this

what if he wants to hurt them again? what if he wants to lock them in the attic he claimed to know nothing about in the earlier lessons? what if he feels some strange connection and sense of familarity related to it, some strange invisible force pulling him towards it and making him do the very thing that happens to him in the future?

and then BAM, they get dragged into his mindscape against their will, unsure if they'll make it back out alive, if they make it out at all

as a certified mammon lover ofc i had to put my 2 cents in

i really, really wish we got more moments of him in big brother mode. we know he cares about his brothers and will do any and everything to protect them and give them what they need, even if it means being the butt of every, and i mean every, joke

but i'm also scared that the devs are gonna use this as a way to paint belphie's breakdown on him like they did with levi's, and like they do with literally every other inconvenience or negative incident that happens in the game. every time mammon does something good, every time he tries to help, he still ends up being the butt of the joke. i just hope we can move past that with the end of belphie's breakdown

50 notes · View notes

barsformars · 3 months

Text

Disrespect

g - angst

p - wooyoung x f!reader

w.c - 1.1k

t.w - mentions of insecurities regarding looks and body

c - wooyoung is mad at you for starting rumours and you’re pissed at his insensitivity

a.n - have not written an angst piece in a very long time, idk if anyone is interested to read this tbh but it comforted me a little to write this because something similar happened to me quite a while back so 🥴 also disclaimer, this is completely fictional im not saying wooyoung is an asshole irl

“i don’t ever want to see you again” doesn’t really work when you’re working together and have to see each other literally the next day. not only is it painfully obvious and awkward to your coworkers. it’s also incredibly exhausting switching from being mad at him to seriously missing the good times with him every half an hour or so.

it took one more glare sent towards wooyoung’s direction for san to finally decide to come talk to you. “you wanna talk to me about it?” he asked softly as he sat himself beside you.

you furrowed your eyebrows at san, wondering if he was serious about it, especially considering the cause of the whole fight. “what, and have you report everything back to your best friend? no thanks.”

“my lips are sealed,” san tried to reassure, slightly taken aback by your attitude. he has never once betrayed anyone’s trust, unless they were doing something illegal but that’s a story for another day.

that phrase meant nothing to you but empty promises to you now. your only fault was telling your fellow backup dancers that you felt uncomfortable with how close wooyoung was being with a certain girl group member, and now he was blaming you for calling him a womaniser and a cheater because rumours had spread. and instead of apologising for causing your trust in him to waver, wooyoung was more concerned about his reputation.

“i’ll respect your wishes if you don’t want to talk about it, but i strongly encourage for the both of you to talk it out,” san advised, “the atmosphere is kind of heavy because of the two of you.”

san got up and walked away, revealing wooyoung who was staring at you from the mirror as the stylist fixed his hair.

“have you been crying?” was the first thing that came out from his mouth after the both of you excused yourselves to a more private space. you swear you could have punched him right there and then.

surely it was obvious that you had been bawling all night with how swollen your eyes were, and the sunken eye bags that formed overnight – an observation wooyoung had made when you had cried to sleep in his arms a long time ago.

“which answer will hurt you more?” you spat, provoking your boyfriend.

“drop your glare, you’re being rude.”

“rude? you know what’s rude? not respecting my boundaries, then proceeding to invalidate my feelings,” you replied as you balled your hands into tight fists.

the following were wooyoung’s claims: he did not pat her head or rest his hand on her lower back and that you were delusional and lying because you’re insecure that you’re not as attractive, face or body wise, as compared to girl idols.

“and you did not respect my career, your words have spread and if the media catches wind of this i could be ruined!” wooyoung rebutted, his voice louder than before.

“again, like i said, all i wanted was to tell somebody that i was uncomfortable with it! i never meant to say that you were a cheater, nor did i want to spread it to the whole world.”

“what you intended to do doesn’t matter, that’s how the media industry is! and you could have told me directly how you felt-“

“so you can tell me i was overthinking and extra sensitive?” you were now face to face with the man, extremely agitated.

wooyoung backed away from you with a few steps and audibly sighed. he turned his head to the side in an attempt to calm down, biting down on his lower lip.

“look, i don’t know how else to explain myself other than saying that i did not do whatever you said i did. regardless, i’m sorry you felt that way and i apologise.” wooyoung decided to be the one to back down first, his arms opening up as an invitation for the both of you to hug it out.

you don’t accept it, also taking steps away from him while shaking your head in dismay. you were not going to let him get away so easily with this, not after he utterly shattered your heart. what wooyoung did, misunderstanding or not, was not what hurt you the most, but how he reacted when he heard about it.

wooyoung had always reassured you that you were the most beautiful in his eyes, that no one else could compare to you. you were not stupid enough to think it was an objective statement, you have seen enough idols to know that even the ones that aren’t photogenic are on another level. but he has now turned this insecurity of yours into a weapon to make you think you’re an insane jealous girlfriend.

“what do you want me to do to show that i still love you?” wooyoung questioned. again, his choice of words irked you.

you felt tears welling up in your eyes, the disappointment you were feeling made your heart ache so much. you love your boyfriend, but not this version of him. and you don’t know the answer to his question because the damage feels irreversible.

“please just come here,” wooyoung carefully takes a step closer to you, his arms opening once again for you, his voice still firm but slightly more gentle now. he wished you would understand the reason he, in your words, ‘overreacted’ is because ateez is at the height of their career and he can’t risk having anything knock it down right now. he knows, he knows it seems never ending for you, being patient until he reaches his next goal. there’s always a next goal, and it’s always harder to reach than the last, and each time there’s more at stakes. he knows he’s being selfish, one can’t have it all but here he is, greedy for both success and love.

“i’m sorry,” he apologised again, his two hands cupping your face as the tears begun to roll down your cheeks, “i shouldn’t have been so harsh on you.”

“i think we should break up.” you felt like choking on your own words. yet for some reason, your body still gravitated towards him, and the next moment your lips are already on his.

wooyoung did not have time to react to what you had just said, but he doesn’t care. all he wants to do right now is melt into your kiss so he reaches for the back of your head.

the both of you are grown enough to know this was not the healthiest way to resolve conflicts, but everything just felt right. “we are so not breaking up,” he breathed heavily as he pulled away for a second.

“you are mine.”

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez blurbs #ateez drabbles #ateez fic #wooyoung #wooyoung angst

63 notes · View notes

ai-luni · 2 years

Text

You are everything good in this world

Peter Ballard/Henry Creel/001 x fem!reader

Series Masterlist, Part 2.1

Word count: 8.2k

Summary: You are an innocent, naive nurse fresh out of school when you receive a job offer in which you think you’ll get to help young orphaned children. Instead you dig a little too deep and find the horrid truths of your work with the help of an orderly who calls you everything good in this world.

Warnings: Literally everything... Peter himself, Dr Brenner himself, Violence, torture, a spider, swearing, slut shaming, smut 18+, overstimulation, toxic traits, gaslighting, ANGSTY TRAGIC ENDING, bad writing

A/N: I’m not a writer and I know most of these tropes have already been written about but I started this when I finished vol 1 and needed to finish for myself. My writing is purely self indulgent so it’s a little bit of a self insert, i hope someone can enjoy it anyway. I’m gonna dip now :)

1978

You were young, keen and fresh out of nursing school when you received an offer from a job in a little town called Hawkins, Indiana. It was a good offer - too good to be true - with in house accommodation and the chance to aid young orphaned children. Or so you were told. You found it ironic how your big adventure and journey of self discovery led you to a small town instead of a big city. You weren’t any less excited about it however.

Arriving at the lab, you were taken aback. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it really wasn’t this. Everything was so sterile and closed off. Many floors were strictly off limits, every door beyond the reception desk needed an ID pass and you greatly struggled to picture how this was a place to help children.

You were on a 6 week work trial before you could move in to be the inhouse nurse. You were staying at the motel in Hawkins for the time being. The thought of moving into that building gave you chills at night but you were excited for these new experiences (and on your first night, very excited to meet the children), however something about that place felt off.

You were given a tour of the building on your first day, meeting the medical wing staff and Dr Brenner himself. He explained to you that this lab was not a usual institution for children or just any children for that matter. But special children, the most special he has ever seen for that matter. He went on to apologise for the trial period, they need to ensure you are in fact the kind of person they are looking for and that they can ensure your trust and confidentiality.

You asked when you’d get to meet the children and all you were given in response was “In due time.” From then on your tour continued, showing you the living quarters and work space you’d be granted access to as well your uniform of a white blouse, white pencil skirt and nurse’s cap - clean black heeled shoes were advised for appearances although not mandatory, however you learnt quickly with a guy like Dr Brenner, it was never wise to never go against his wishes.

It was the end of your first week when you finally met the orderly staff that supervise the children. They all held pleasantries very well and were lovely company. You were invited to join a few to the cafeteria for their lunch time break, to which you graciously accepted. Though they laughed at your jokes, you found many took themselves too seriously.

There was one however that piqued your curiosity. He did not speak to you that day, nor for any of the weeks during your trial period, but you saw him often. Like you were being shown a sign - he was always leaving the cafeteria when you were entering and passing you in the hallways in the mornings by your office door. He was tall, bright, blond and sympathetic looking. You wanted to hear his voice. You often wondered after seeing him if his voice was in fact as gentle and kind as he looked or boyish and playful or maybe even the complete opposite of how he looked: dark and cold.

It wasn’t until your final week during your trial did you meet one of the children. You were sitting in your little office bay as usual when you heard a knock on the door. Looking up, you saw the tall, blond boy dressed all in white walk in with a little girl holding his hand.

“Good morning Miss L/N. I understand you’re still on your trial period but thirteen here has hurt her hand and would like a bandage.” You nodded trying to conceal the fact that your thoughts were racing for the sake of professionalism. It was gentle and kind, his voice was gentle and kind.

Patting the bed next to you for the little child to sit, you retrieved the little stash of band aids from under your desk. Now ducking down to be eye level with the little girl whose legs dangled off the bed, you decided - as your actual first encounter with a child - you’d try your best to make her like you.

“I'm a nurse Y/N, what’s your name?” you said in a soft tone, perhaps coming off like you were talking to a baby.

“Thirteen.” She replied in a weak tone, to which you thought she was joking. After a silent moment of no follow up you turned to the orderly who stood next to the door, legs apart, arms behind his back and nodding at you with a smile. You hear him hiding a small chuckle and return your attention to the child in front of you trying to seem unfazed at the possibility that this child’s name is thirteen. Thirteen lifts her palm to show you a small cut.

“Oh dear, how did this happen?” You say softly, focusing more on gently applying the band aid to the little girl’s hand.

“Papa says I’m not allowed to say.” You looked at the child’s face again, clearly failing to hide how foreign this moment felt. ‘Papa?’ barely left your lips in a sigh before realising perhaps she meant Dr Brenner. Smiling again you set her free to go, to which she jumped off the bed and back to grab the boy’s hand. You completely forgot he was standing there but the intensity of his stare towards you accompanied by the smile on his face made your ears feel red hot.

“Thank you Nurse Y/N” the boy says, a smile growing wider than leading the child out of the room.

“Congratulations on passing your trial period Y/n. We’ve decided you are exactly the kind of person we are looking for and I’ll be sure to send someone to help you with your things, you need not worry.” Dr Brenner greeted you in the reception doors with these words as you entered with your things in multiple bags and cases, “It is time you finally meet the children.

He led you to ‘The Rainbow Room’ whoch you have heard of quite a bit but never got to see inside. When you entered, Dr Brenner called attention to all of the children and lined them up in front of you. The room was exactly like the rest of the building, sterile white tiles, fluorescent lights and no windows. It wasn’t exactly the place you’d want to let a child grow up in but the decorations and the toys scattered around made it a little more bearable and warm.

One by one Dr Brenner told you the numbers of each child, desperately trying to hide your astonishment at the fact all of the children were named after numbers. And there were so few children there too. It was then that Dr Brenner’s words of “not just any child” really started to sink in. What was so special about these children that they had to have their names taken away?

“Children, say hello to our new Nurse, Nurse Y/N.” Dr Brenner announces to the children.

“Hello Nurse Y/N.” The children responded in a collective bored and wavering tone. You examined the children from across the room, looking at their young eyes, some mischievous, some bright and others plain scary. You saw little thirteen that you treated yesterday, she smiled brightly while showing you the band aid still on her palm. You gave a small wave back. This adorable interaction completely making your day.

In the early weeks of moving in, you rarely interacted with people throughout the day. You found friends with some of the orderlies and reception staff however conversations with them are quick and only pleasant at best. Most days Dr Brenner would come by once to check on how you are fairing; once a week you may have someone actually come into the sick bay for treatment.

It was a Tuesday morning when you entered your office to find the tall, blond orderly sitting on the side of the bed, back slumped over and his head resting in his hands. He hadn’t heard you come in and for the brief moment when you caught him off guard, you noticed how intimidating his stare was. Usually when you saw him, he held the sweetest puppy dog eyes but this morning he looked troubled and almost angry.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You questioned quietly, not to startle him too much. You startled him very much which startled you and brought your hand to your chest trying to laugh it off.

“Good morning.” he gave you a sheepish little smile as an apology. You returned it with an understanding one. Getting your gear ready for the day around the desk, you started to question him.

“Is there anything I can help you with this morning, mr?”

“Ballard, Peter Ballard.” He replied in his boyish way.

“You’ve called me by my name for months now and I didn’t even know yours,” you joked before returning to the task at hand, “Now what seems to be the problem?”

You treated Peter of a suspicious burn on his wrist that morning, reinforcing the common phrase that circulates this building of ‘Papa says I’m not allowed to say.’ The word ‘papa’ coming from Peter’s lips however sounds more ironic and bitter than from the children. You were told not to question ‘Papa’.

That morning - though awkward - opened a gateway to a new friendship and perhaps even a little crush on your behalf. One of which you tried to tuck away as Dr Brenner would not be too pleased about workplace relationships. You learnt many things about the boy, his favourite things - colours, foods, hobbies, etc. You connected with him about certain things like the children and complained about Dr Brenner. He’d confide in you about how this building was starting to feel like a prison and you somehow managed to get Peter to tell you about his nightmares and help him understand those nights.

You’d often catch and talk to Peter at meal times or if he brings a child into or is just passing your office. He started to take the longer route to certain rooms just to stop by your office and ask if you needed anything which then turned into any free time he had being spent in your office if there were no other children or staff in there.

He sat on the bed in your office waiting for you to finish some paperwork before engaging in conversation. More often than not, he’d prefer to wait and work alongside you rather than awkwardly waiting in any other public space on this floor. His eyes wandering around the room, he spots the remnants of a web in the cover of the room, finally catching your attention when he ventures over to investigate.

“What’s wrong Peter?” You speak, looking up once you finish the sentence you were writing. He didn’t respond, walking further to the corner of the room. Naturally you got up to see what he was doing, this was odd behaviour for him and you weren’t sure if you should be concerned or flattered that he may just feel more comfortable with you to treat your office like a home.

“Look.” He says quietly, eyes intensely focused on his hand, reaching to the floor and rising back to his face. He shifts on his toes, crouched and raises his eyes to look at you with awe in his eyes. You yelped when you saw the black spider crawling on his hand - or at least you thought you yelped but no sound left your mouth, instead your hands came to cover your open mouth.

“It’s okay.” He says softly with a genuine smile, he looked so relaxed with the spider.

“Peter?! Why would you-?! Isn't it dangerous?!” You stuttered, Peter’s calmness being the only thing keeping you from freaking out. But it didn’t stop you from almost whisper-yelling at him as if raising your voice will make the spider angry.

“Only if provoked. Here,” He reached his hand out to you, moving slowly so as to not disturb the creature. You stood there like a deer in the headlights, so frightened by the ugly thing, you couldn’t seem to find the courage. You looked back to Peter, his eyes intense - almost cold - until he noticed your nervous gaze and he softened. Shaking his head with a soft smile at your cowardice, “It’s not going to hurt you, not while I’m here with you.”

You couldn’t believe you were reaching for the thing, but your hand met with Peter’s and the spider crawled onto your soft skin. You kept you other hand close to your chest, looking back up to Peter when you felt your nerves pick up. He was intensely staring at your hand, the spider so comfortable, crawling on your delicate smooth, skin.

“It’s beautiful.” Fell off his lips almost unintentionally, his chest rising and falling deeper and deeper. There was something that hit him so differently seeing this contrast of something regarded as so ill and dangerous melding like water with the most graceful and peaceful specimen he has ever seen. As every life he’s lived, he’d yet found something different to make it all feel worth it, until now. Until he found the anomaly of the human race that would be worth respecting, worth playing with, worth his time.

“I suppose so.” You respond - assuming he was talking about the spider - still not understanding the whole thrill of this. You grew lot more comfortable looking at the spider now. Even gently guiding it back to the shelf next to you to for it to waddle back to its web.

Once seeing the spider reached it’s web again, you looked back to Peter who was now only inches from you, leaning down to face you. Your breath hitched, you didn’t even see him step closer but you could now feel the heat from him and hear his breathing. It made your heart race. He reached to push some of your hair behind your ear, gently and slowly, as though you were the most precious item he’d ever seen. However halting mid movement once he saw your neck, his thumb gracing down to outline a small dull red scar. His fingers cold to the touch, sending shivers down your spine.

“When did you get this?” He said in a serious tone that caught you off guard, now moving to your side to further examine the scar.

“I’m the nurse here! You don’t have the worry about me.” You pulled away playfully however still very taken back by the sudden change in mood.

“Y/N,” His stare unfaltering, “I need to know. When did this happen.”

“I- I don’t remember,” you were suddenly nervous, like you were in trouble, “I- well- I know it appeared after I got here, I just don’t remember how I got it. It’s just a scar, I’m not dying.”

Peter’s face boiled in an emotion that you hadn’t seen from him before. Anger. With a hint of nothing else in his face but pure anger. ‘Brenner’ He breathed out and looked up to the security camera in the corner of the room - that to be honest, you forgot was there most of the time.

From that interaction, you were hyper aware of that scar on your neck - usually just trying to cover it with your hair if you didn’t have to put it up. As well you started to grow even more suspicious of Dr Brenner. You were already a little too curious of his treatment of the children for his liking but now you were more aware of his treatment of you and his staff. Peter felt almost proud of you when he saw you put your guard up around the man whether in the hallway, the rainbow room or cafeteria.

It was one afternoon, however, when one of the younger children came into your office with a bruised spine, burns across his scalp and a severe concussion that you were finally starting to lose your patience. You examined the child, tucked them into your sick bay bed with a support teddy (which was provided by you when you came to work here) and left for a moment to find Peter.

You were fuming though you tried to stay calm in the public eye - not that it made any difference, your stomps echoed through the tiled hallways. You made your way to the rainbow room, taking a deep breath before entering and scanning the room with your eyes for Peter. He was crouched next to the child guiding a marble with his eyes closed. The children watched you walk straight to him however pay you little mind. Peter however stood up immediately, noticing you were upset.

“Good evening Peter. I need your assistance if you have a moment to spare.” Keeping up appearances. It worked. He departed with the child and walked beside you out of the rainbow room. When you felt you were deep enough into the hallways, you stopped him and your fake persona melted in front of him.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THESE CHILDREN?! THIS ISN’T NORMAL! THIS IS LEGAL! PETER DID YOU KNOW?!” You were whisper yelling, aware that other people may hear you. You were panicking in front of him to the point he grabbed your upper arms to steady you and telling you to breathe. He took a deep breath himself.

“The truth is…” he contemplated for a moment whether to tell you, “Not everything here is what they seem.”

You looked at him absolutely dumbfounded as he told you of the children's special abilities and Dr Brenner’s plan to build weapons out of them. The sort of training these kids are put through and so on. You almost thought it was a joke, all of this going on under your nose, all of this that sounds completely impossible. He told you about the chip in your neck and explained that’s why he got so concerned when he first saw it.

“I have never lied to you before Y/N, especially not about the likelihood of this. I’ve tried to keep you in the dark for your own sake and protection because I fear what Dr Brenner may do if you knew the true nature of this project, what it may do to you if you knew the true nature of this project. But it seems not telling you has ended up worse and I apologise so deeply Y/N. It was never my intention to hurt y-”

“Peter, you have done nothing wrong. Thank you for always telling me the truth.” You stood in complete disbelief but you trusted Peter with your whole heart and in that moment you swore to help these children, but now you know really from what. You felt Peters hand on your shoulder taking you out of your thoughts. He guided you into his arms and you hugged him in the middle of the hallway.

“Peter, Y/N.” Dr Brenner’s voice revealed itself from behind Peter. You stole another moment in the privacy of Peter’s arms to build up the courage to face the doctor after what you just learnt.

“Good evening Dr Brenner.” You said with a smile, pretending to wipe a tear out of your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, brows furrowed in his usual calm, intimidating tone.

“Yes, yes,” You pretended to compose yourself, painting on a sheepish look. Also very aware of the child holding his hand beside him. “I’ve just been a little… well homesick is all. Peters just been a dear consolidating friend in reminding me of my family and friends here.”

Your nervousness was showing through your fiddling fingers, keeping your gaze on the child next to Brenner as you shared a gentle smile at the word ‘friends’. It was in this moment as well that Peter saw you pick his side and cover for him, he felt proud of himself that he could warn you of danger and that you actually listened. He felt proud of himself that he could suede the purest person he’d ever met to stick by his side.

Peter would think of that moment, at night, in bed alone most often. The way you lied for him, the way only he could make you steer away from your ‘righteous’ nature and lie for him. The way you listened to him and believed his every word. The way you sought him out first for help, for the truth and depended on him for comfort. The way you held him in your arms and rested your head on his chest. The way his arms wrapped around your smaller frame and could feel your back through your linen shirt. He was utterly enamoured by you.

Over the course of the year, he slowly slowly started to open up to you and he knew you were just as enamoured by him as he was of you. He protected you in this building, telling you every secret he knew, who of the orderlies and staff he thought you should stay clear of and bringing you things you needed throughout the day like an assistant. On some days even, Peter became the only person you would see for the entire day. His puppy dog eyes and sweet smile was enough to keep you going in his building. Most nights the thought of his touch was all you needed.

It was only recently that Peter started talking more and more about little number 11. He held a real fondness of her, often telling you she was the strongest of all the children. The first time you heard this, it took you greatly by surprise as she was a sweet girl but incredibly fragile from the times you’ve treated her. He looked at you with the intense stare you rarely saw - the stare that raises your heartbeat and frightens you, needing to remind yourself that it’s only Peter and there was no need to be intimidated - when telling you not to pity that girl.

It was because of Peter that yourself and 11 became closer friends. Often you’d try to learn more about the girl when she came into your office and you always greeted her, especially when you entered the rainbow room to call on a child for a check up. Peter thought it very sweet however the other children started to notice as well.

A lot of the older children became more hostile to 11 as a result of getting more attention but became hostile to you as well. 11 begun spend more and more afternoons in your office after being picked on by those kids and you welcomed her every time. She’ll tell you in very limited words that the children would tell her 'you have to be put in your place’ or that ‘they do it for her own good.’ and that she just wanted to be their friend.

You told her often “Friends don’t lie.” You tried your best to make it crystal clear that they were only bullies and that she was worth so much more than to be tossed around like that. You’d remind her how powerful she was to be here. As well that she had a brave and strong heart and you really admire that about her.

One afternoon you hadn’t seen Peter all day and you were getting very distressed and restless. He wasn’t at the dinner meal time either which only made you feel worse, cleaning your office to distract yourself all night. By 7 o’clock there was a knock on your door which you ran too thinking it was Peter however instead you found little 11 standing there alone.

You welcomed her in of course and she tried to explain to you what she saw today. Of Peter being punished for helping her. You thanked her so deeply for telling you to which she replied with “Friends don’t lie.” You gave her a hug as tears started to spill unwillingly out of your eyes from worry and sent her off to her room for the night.

So that night when you were packing up your office, you hid a few supplies and ointments in your undergarments and tried your best to sneak to his room without being spotted. You weren’t sure if he didn’t come see you for treatment because he didn’t want you to see him that way or because Dr Brenner prohibited him but neither was going to stop you for helping him.

You knock on his door and he opens the door harshly thinking you were someone else. However his eyes softened immediately upon seeing you and he drags you in to close the door. He lets you fawn over him, scolding him for not seeing you and what not when all he did was groan in pain as he tried to sit on the edge of his bed.

He followed your orders in taking off his shirt so you could see his wounds, pulling out the supplies you brought. Now sitting shirtless with his arms out, he watched you expectedly as you were too focused on examining him to notice the elephant in the room. He enjoyed seeing your flustered look when seeing him shirtless and your pure worry while treating him.

“11 and I are more alike than you think.” He states out of the blue, breaking your focus. That's when you finally noticed the number. 001. He watches your face turn from concern to utter despair.

“No” you look up at him, slowly your hands rise to his head. You softly grab his hair and bring him to your chest. Pure love and sorrow in your embrace that he melts into you.

”Not you, not them.” You whimpered into his hair. Your heart broke at the thought of him going through what you’ve seen these children go through and now more.

You almost healed his inner child in that moment alone. He feels a tear drop on his hair and pulls back to look at you, his hand resting on your waist. Bringing a thumb to your cheek to wipe away your tears. In the complete silence of the little tiled room, you broke loose.

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, tears slowly continuing to build in your eyes. He quickly retorted with his thumb now grazing over your lips, his gentle eyes comforting you, “You never have to be afraid again. Not with me.”

He pulled you to him, lips resting against his for a moment. You closed your eyes until both of you pulled back. Opening your eyes, you see him watching your lips while licking his own. Your heart was beating so fast.

“Again” he says in a daze. He’d never kissed anyone before but to share this moment with you was almost too much for him. You did as he said and kissed him again. Your lips took over and moved against each other on their own. His grip tighten and you pulled away, a small moanish sigh left your lips from the feeling. You take charge, connecting your lips to his again, tongue to tongue and he’s taken off guard. But he’s a quick learner.

With a gruff grunt, he yanks you onto his lap, your hands resting on his chest. His hand holding your jaw to him and the other pulling up your skirt. This was too good a feeling to be real, this was a feeling he could get used to for sure. A feeling of pure pleasure and love, he wants to hold you and protect you from this hell hole.

“I fear he already knows” You whisper against his lips. You didn’t dare speak the doctor’s name in a moment like this.

“I’m afraid so,” He mumbled back against your lips, “But if he lays a hand on you, I’ll be the end of everything he knows.”

You pulled back, taking out the pins in your hair and letting it fall onto your shoulders. His eyes watching your movements so intensely, his thigh bouncing from a feeling he couldn’t identify, nervousness or excitement maybe.

Your hands held his shoulders to keep you stable on his lap. You looked down to his chest, your mannerisms turning sheepish and he could tell there was something you needed to ask him. He moved a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear, and following that motion your head turned to him and locked eyes.

“Will you have me?” He was confused by your question. You straightened yourself on his lap, gaining the courage to continue, “I don’t know what will happen beyond this point, tomorrow. I don’t know if I can even help these kids if I tried. But I know I’m here with you right now and that might be all I get.”

His eyes grew wide and clouded full of love. He was starting to realise what you were referring to.

“I don’t want to regret anything, I don’t want to miss you. I need you.” You continued. He was so mesmerised by you that he brought you in for another kiss, rough and heavy, he wanted to express how he felt about you and this - in his inexperience - was the best way he knew how to.

He watched you lick your lips and lean back in his lap - supporting you with a grip on your hips. He watched your nimble little hands work on the button at your collar, letting it fall open. Then the next button and the next until he stopped you. Holding your delicate hands in his like fine china and bringing them to his lips for a gentle kiss. He guides your hands back to his shoulders and works on the rest of your buttons for you one by one.

Reaching the belt of your skirt, he yanks your tucked in shirt out rougher than intended and you let out a little giggle to which he matches your smile, a genuine, warm smile. All your buttons were undone and you guide his hands into your unbuttoned shirt, leaving his hands on his chest, letting your shirt slip off your shoulders.

With his hands awkwardly placed over your underwear where you placed them, he watched your chest rise and fall, up and down with every deep breath under his warm hands. Your nervous look turned to one of slight smugness, mostly adoration. You reached your arms behind your back to unclasp your bra and with that it fell to the ground. He looked so unsure where to place his hands.

You lifted his chin to look you in the eye and with a gently loving smile, you gave him a nod. With that he cupped your breast and explored the feeling. He observed the way you reacted to his movements, when your breath hitched or fastened. Hitting the jackpot when his thumb met your nipple, like a research project.

He was rubbing circles with his thumb, relishing the sight of you watching his hands as he worked. Your head almost subconsciously following the movement, as you’re lips were parted and almost drooling. He’s never had this effect on anyone before but you didn’t tell him to stop. He never knew his limits, but the effect he had was intoxicating for him in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“Aah!” His fingers were rough and dry. He looked at you jerking back his hands immediately, unsure if he did something wrong to hurt you. You still had this blissed out look on your face as you looked at him but you licked your lips. Slowly, to draw his attention and your eyes flicked down. He gave you a knowing look once it clicked what you wanted.

He gave you a devilish smile before connecting his lips to your nipple. You gripped his hair and let out a gasp, his lips moving as they did on your lips and soon remembered to let his tongue join the ensemble. His eyes continued to watch the look on your face when he got the chance. Every time you made a noise, it only egged him on more. Soon he was onto the other nipple and your fingers were busy twisting and pulling his hair.

He committed every little movement and noise you made to memory and was absolutely addicted. He couldn’t seem to stop, he couldn’t seem to pull himself off you when you were making noises like that. You were pulling his hair and making noises straight out of a porno. Only finally giving you a break when he pulled off you, leaning back to get a look at you all dishevelled. You were falling forward in his lap, already tired, chest completely red and sore, rising rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

“Peter” you let out a moanish-sigh and his head fell back at the sound. He let out groans in pain, you weren’t sure whether the source was from the burns or his tight white pants. Once you regain your composure, you let your hand slide along the inside of his left thigh in front of you. He returned his look to you, somehow more dishevelled than you were and you’ve barely touched him.

“Please.” he said, almost submissively and your hand fell over where he needed you most. You were only palming him gently through his white chinos but truly it was enough for him to snap. His head had fallen back entirely, hands off your waist and leaning on the bed behind him to keep him steady and upright.

His neck was on full display to you and taking the opportunity, you manoeuvred your way to lean your knees against the bed and rest your chest against his with your hand still between your bodies. Lips connecting to his neck and feeling the vibrations of every noise he made. You kissed around his neck, trying not to leave marks that might be spotted until you reached the chip behind his ear.

“I hate him.” You muttered against his skin absentmindedly, catching his attention and bringing him out of the moment. He pulled you up in front of him pulling down your skirt, slipping off your shoes and groaning once more as you stood in front of him in nothing but your panties.

“Sit.” he orders, you do as he says. With a grunt he stands in front of you like you did him moments before. He desperately fiddled with his belt, his hands were shaking but he was too focused on taking off his trousers to notice. Once finally free he lets out a sigh of relief as the cold air hits his skin.

“Peter.” you did it again and it drove him crazy, the sight of you sitting there almost naked staring at his dick was an effect he didn’t know he could have on a person.

“Lay down Peter, please.” you almost begged.

He laid down beside you and you straddled him, pulling off your panties one leg after the other. He watched you as your cold fingers traced down his torso then gently grazed over his cock. He completely stopped breathing but couldn’t look away.

He was in so much pain, desperate for release but he didn’t want this moment to end. Everything you did made it worse but he couldn’t bring himself to quicken the pace. You were dripping down your thigh, he watched you scrape some of your wetness off your thigh and drag it down his shaft. You wrapped your hand around him, thumb rubbing at the slit spreading the pre-cum it let out, him letting out a groan from deep in his chest along with it

“Are you ready Peter?” You said weakly, mostly the nerves were finally showing through. Positioning yourself above him with his eyes intensely trained on the sight.

“Now.”

You rode him. Slowly at first. He’d never felt this kind of pleasure before and he certainly wasn’t going to interfere with what you were doing. The room was silent beside the echoing noises of the friction of your skin, the repetitive squelching from inside you, every hum that you made involuntarily at every little movement. Everything added up into pure over stimulation on his senses. He could hear his own noises, groans and hums and moans and sighs echo back at him and he almost gave you submission. His hands rested on your hips as you rolled back and forth on him, yours hands resting on his shoulders for stability and moaning in his ear.

You grabbed his hand off your hips and guided him to your clit, helping him move in the way you like and once he got the hang of it, your body completely fell over onto him. He saw you break down in front of his eyes at this simple movement and something within him snapped in a need for dominance.

His grip on your hip tightens, bruises forming as he begins thrusting up into you. You’re yelping almost in pain but that only pushes him longer as he shows no signs of slowing down. He flips you over, delicately placing you below him, it was the only moment for you to breathe before he continued.

He begins to pound into you again, thumb still working on your clit. You’re gripping his hair and the nape of his neck for dear life as you're on the verge of screaming and crying from love and fear and pain and he’s got his arm out beside you, steadying himself, chin resting on your collarbone as he watches you scream and squirm. The sudden change in his demeanour and the pace and everything is sending you so overboard that you’re orgasming before you can even put a coherent thought together. It was only Peter.

“Pete-aA, a- AH - AgaIN PETER.”

At the point you begin to calm down only slightly, he started rutting into you with a grunt with every thrust. “You’re free now. With me you’re free Y/N. You won’t leave me, you won’t ever leave me. Y/n hmm Y/n” and it continued like that with each thrust. He’d grunt and call out for you and grunt and call out for you. Relishing the feeling of your squirming and jerking your hips, like you were a bunny he was setting free from it’s misery. He had to have you.

For a while you were way past your orgasm but he was still rutting into you. So strained you could feel the veins on his neck and see the veins on his forehead pop out. You’d scream for him and only him, not any jerk, not Brenner. You’d scream his name, and feel for him. You were gasping for air, nails frantically scratching at his back, hair, shoulders, arms, anywhere you could grip.

With what little might you could muster, you lifted your head to look at him, face red and completely tear stained, mascara pooling under your eyes. “I am free, with you Peter! You set me free!” you cried, out of breath and completely dick crazed. He was a goner. Completely inside of you he stayed and rutted as he released. Your name falling off his lips, only yours.

He fell onto you, releasing all the tension in his muscle as he gently held you. You laid there under him gasping for air and grabbing his hair and shoulder.

He looked at you with complete awe and amazement, that was the best he’d ever felt, the most free he’s ever felt yet the most powerful he’d ever felt. He loved you, he would kill for you, but watching you stay there under him, crying and screaming and taking it because you loved him. It was a love he’s never felt before. He did nothing but stare at you and breathe as he thought and you stared at him back, in love.

Something in him clicked like it sometimes did, his eyes reverted back to their Peter puppy dog eyes, he chucked and giggled and sighed resting his head next to yours in a playful ‘wow’ sort of fashion. You only giggled in return and held him closer. He jolted up on his elbow to look at you, jump scaring you in the moment and looked at him expectedly.

“Stay with me, just tonight y/n.” Your eyes lit up as he did to match until the hope drained out of you.

“You know I can’t Peter.” You looked into his eyes, deep into his wide black hole of eyes, there was a void space in his eyes that drew you into a trance. He knew how to use this power on you.

“Like you said, we don’t know what's going to happen tomorrow but you have me now.” He could see he was persuading you easily. You bit your lip and let out a loud breath when lying back down in his arms. He grabbed your chin, roughly, pulling you to look at him.

“You’ll be with me forever, you’ll never have to feel fear again with me, especially not from the likes of those men out there.” With that the two of you spent the night, you in his arms, him in your arms. He could feel your heart racing and the fear behind it as tomorrow morning came closer and closer. You both knew tomorrow was going to be a living hell and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it but you had no regret being with Peter.

Neither of you slept properly, the night was full of deep late night conversations, giggles, you spoke of your families, he told you of his childhood and wanted to take you again when instead of rejecting him, you embraced him and were interested in the stuff he likes to talk about, spiders, power, dominance. It was the longest and shortest night of his life and he didn’t even leave the bed once.

He mentioned his plan to free 11. You saw it as a mission to heal his inner child and thought him incredibly selfless to sacrifice himself for the sweetest little girl you’d ever met. Of course you’d offer to help, you’d do anything for Peter and if he was going to sacrifice himself, you’d have nothing else left to live for either.

You told Peter to give her your ID card, so he can meet her in the basement and in the early morning, he took you again because he couldn’t keep his hands off you and how pure of a soul you were.

“You are everything good in this world, I will protect you.” He’d repeat all night.

Now the next morning, you watched Peter prepares himself for the day then walk you to your room, trying his best to avoid cameras and keep you out of sight. And thus the most dreaded day of your life begins.

It was cold, the only warmth you felt was the redness of your cheeks and ears when you thought back to last night. Your morning went as usual except the way Peter looked at you when passing in the hall was different and made you wet in your pants.

Dr Brenner visited your medical office, notifying you that you and the other nurse will be needed in the lab room in an hour as the children are playing another game. You tried to play off your complete nervousness - of just being in the same room as him as if he already knew what happened last night - by giving a kind and understanding smile you usually try to wear. He leaves with no inhibitions but you just know deep down, he knows.

You do as you're told. In the next hour, walk to the lab room he called you too and watch the children leave. You enter to find 2 on the ground, a collar around his neck you’d seen before leaving burns on the children. Terror is evident in your eyes and Peter can see that from where he stands in the corner of the room. You walk in, trying to stay calm, everyone is watching you and the other nurse that came with you to escort the child.

Dr Brenner welcomes you and thanks you for coming on time. He takes the collar off 2 and steps aside for you to help up to your office.

“Of course. It’s only our job to help these children sir.” you gave a reassuring smile. Usually Brenner liked to hear these sort of things from his staff but today he stops you, telling the other nurse to take the child and leave you. Confused, you look to Peter, he looked seemingly more concerned than confused.

“Y/N stay with us.” Brenner says calmly. You spin to face him and his orderlies. Your heart is racing and your breathing so heavy that you could hear your heart beat in your ears. Dr Brenner motions for you to stand where you found 2.

Not daring to go against his orders, you walked to the spot in front of the Doctor. Peter was starting to catch on to what was about to happen and he was getting angry, visibly angry. His anger only made you more nervous. The other orderlies even started to look nervous and confused. Dr Brenner touches your arm and you tense up completely.

“Please, Y/N there’s no need to get nervous now.” He walks behind you, hand on your waist, collar in his hand, “No, you haven’t done anything wrong to be this nervous, have you?”

He never once falters from his scolding fatherly tone, no matter how ridiculous the situation. You’re shaking and whimpering and trembling under his touch. Peter observes the complete weakness in you, not the way you were with him. His fist was clenched, he was going to snap. He cleared his throat, trying to diffuse this situation but it only made it worse. Dr Brenner’s eyes snap to the boy, so do yours. Your eyes pleading for help and Dr Brenner notices.

“I’m afraid my suspicions were correct.” He scoffs under his breath and starts putting the collar on you.

“You say you do this for the children, correct? You want to help my children?” He says, walking back in front of you now that the collar was around your neck. You were shaking so violently that you could barely stand, tears were falling from your eyes wildly without any prior permission. Brenner looked to the man on his side, instantly getting the cue and walking over to hold Peter back. And as though in slow motion, he reached for the dial in his hand and turned it on.

Before you could properly comprehend what was happening and that you were in pain, you found yourself on the floor.

“I didn’t want to have to do this Y/n but it’s necessary to remind you of the rules and that of basic respect and manners. This is no place for a whore.”

You were on the floor screaming in pain. Peter was screaming at Brenner from where he was being held back to watch.

After a couple long minutes, a few of which you’d blacked out through, Brenner finally turned the collar off. He crouched in front of you, lifting your chin to look at him, gazing directly into your eyes as he said, “It’s only for your own good, I don’t want to have to let go of you because of this little incident.”

It was about noon now, after you were left to hobble back to your room alone, that Peter finally visited you. Bringing you food and water. He sat with you in your bed, holding you and apologising for not being able to protect you and saying he will get revenge for you. You went all too sure what he was saying but you were just happy to have him by your side for a little bit.

You gave him your ID card and told him to give it to her, and get her out today. It was time, today was the day. He took it and listened to you. You had to assure him many times that you’d be okay if he left you here before he actually got up to leave. And after a kiss he went to start the plan as you fell asleep.

You woke up to someone entering your room, you could sense it had only been a few hours later but Peter was already back in your room. He ran straight to you, yanking you to his chest before you were fully awake to comprehend what was going on.

“Ow” you let out and he apologised vowing to be gentler next time, “Peter? What's going on? Did you give her the ID? What's go- Peter you’re bleeding!”

You sat up now, completely sobered and concerned. You observed his neck where the chip used to be now dripping with blood. He looked at you with determined eyes, the intense stare that used to scare you.

“I’m free now Y/N. I can protect you now. I love you Y/N.” he took a rough, hard kiss from you once again and laid you back down, “I can protect you now.”

“No Peter! Wait, what’s going on?!” You were getting up to stop him leaving without telling you but he just pulled you to his chest and kissed your hair.

“You have to stay here, I’m going to protect you. You trust me.” He repeated once more before picking you up and putting you back into your bed. You watched him leave bewildered and the door shut behind him. You didn’t have your ID card or a key of any kind and now Peter’s left you confused and worried he was hurt.

You ran to the door after him, trying desperately to find a way to get it open to no avail. In despair, you slid to the floor, sitting with your back to the door and waited. The only thing you could do.

There was a scream.

And another.

The alarm started going off.

You tried once again at the door but it wouldn’t open, you were getting frantic again. You started to hit the door but no one was left around to hear.

“PETER!” You were screaming, banging at the door with your fist, desperate for someone, anyone to hear you.

#stranger things #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #henry creel #henry creel x reader #001 #001 x reader #vecna #stranger things fic

2K notes · View notes

lionlena · 10 months

Text

1. New job, new problems... (PedroPascalxreader) - one shot

Ok, so here's the first one shot of: one shots week. As I wrote, I was inspired by my problems, but don't take everything literally, because of course I changed some things, but generally yes, my new co-workers are mean bitches. But I've come to terms with it. At least instead of talking to them, I write ff xD

Summary: co-workers at your new job treat you badly. You try to hide it from your boyfriend, but even from a distance Pedro senses that something is wrong.

Warnings: little sad but later fluff and loving, caring Pedro

This can be considered as a continuation: ♡Just let it go…

You were happy when you got a new job where you made more money. No matter how many times Pedro told that you could have his money. You felt bad about it and wanted to prove to him that you weren't with him for the money.

However, you soon found out that your new job was a nightmare. And it wasn't the job itself, because it was easy and fun for you. Your co-workers were the problem. You ended up in a three-person team consisting of all women, and you felt their hostility from the very beginning. They had trouble giving you the simplest of information, like where the bathroom is. They responded with annoyance to your every question. But you thought they'd get used to you over time. You were polite and tried to have little chats with them, but it was not effective because they ignored you. With each passing day, you felt worse and worse, and as if your misfortune wasn't enough, Pedro flew to the set in Morocco.

You sighed heavily as you sat alone at a table during your lunch break. You've been scrolling through the photos fans have taken of your boyfriend. It always made you feel a little better and made you forget everything for a moment. Your boyfriend looked pleased, though you could see he was tired. You wanted so much to hug him and make sure he was taking care of himself.

Of course, Pedro wanted you to go with him. At least for a few days, but you couldn't take free time from your new job so quickly. Another minus.

And of course, every time you spoke to him, you said everything was fine. You didn't want to worry him. You knew he should be focused on a movie set.

You were just looking at a photo of Pedro wearing a white t-shirt that was visibly wet at the bottom. You smiled and started to wonder what your beloved had done. Knowing him, he probably spilled something on himself. Pedro was so clumsy sometimes. But you loved it about him. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice your co-workers walking past you. Their sudden giggles made you jump and almost drop your phone.

"Seriously Y/N," Jane said. "You'd better focus on your job, not on dreaming about some actor who doesn't even know you exist."

You had to bite your tongue not to say that unlike her, you work instead of filing your nails half the day.

"I don't know what these girls see in him," Michele said.

You perfectly saw how a few days earlier she was drooling at the monitor when she was reading an article about your boyfriend.

Before you could answer anything, they walked away laughing like crazy.

When you talked to Pedro in the evening, you could hardly keep your composure. He asked you several times if you were okay.

"Honey, you really do sound kind of weird," he said sadly.

"I'm really fine... I've had a busy day today and I think I'm having a migraine."

"My poor baby," he cooed. "Maybe you should lie down."

"That's what I'll do."

"Do you want me to talk to you on the phone until you fall asleep?"

You wanted to cry. Your boyfriend was so sweet and caring.

"Yes," you whispered.

You only felt worse for the next few days. Even during lunch, you didn't look at pictures with Pedro because your co-workers always sat at the table next to you. You were sure those bitches did it on purpose. It was ridiculous and you felt like you were in high school.

You started wondering if you should just start going out to some restaurant for lunch. You would have less time then, but you would gain peace of mind. Suddenly you heard some commotion behind you.

"Is that him? It's impossible," Michele murmured.

You turned around and your heart leaped. You couldn't believe your eyes. A smiling Pedro was walking towards you with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. You couldn't take it any longer and ran over to him. He welcomed you with open arms and hugged you tightly. You pulled away from him after a while, to look into his eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the silly faces of these three bitches.

"What are you doing here?" you choked out.

"Did you really think I wouldn't sense something was wrong?" He stroked your cheek gently. "I'm back only for two days, but I hope it's enough."

You nodded and murmured, "I still have a few hours left at work."

"I know, but I couldn't wait to see you. I'll pick you up in the car so you don't have to take the subway back and we'll spend a wonderful evening together."

You blushed involuntarily, and he chuckled and whispered in your ear, "Yeah, I'm thinking about that too."

You shook your head and groaned as you realized you had to get back to work. You kissed Pedro on goodbye.

Suddenly your co-workers wanted to talk to you, but this time you ignored them. It was really sweet revenge.

Pedro has come for you as promised. On the way, he picked up food from your favorite restaurant. At home, he lit the candles and asked, "Dinner first, or bath first?"

You looked at him lovingly. "Dinner."

After you ate, he prepared an aromatic, warm bath for you. The tub was big enough for both of you to fit comfortably. You sat between his legs and rested your head on his chest. His big hands traced patterns on your breasts and belly. You finally felt relaxed. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily. You felt Pedro kiss you on the head. "My love, can you tell me what's been making you so sad lately?"

You nodded and squeezed his hand tightly. Though you tried to be calm, your voice trembled a few times as you told him about your job and how your co-workers treated you.

Pedro listened to you carefully, and at the end of your story, he hugged you tightly and kissed your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry babe. These stupid women should be glad to be working with someone as great as you." He placed a kiss on your shoulder again. "I know we've talked about this before, but you don't have to work. You know that. Why do I need money if I can't make the people I love happy?"

You smiled and squeezed his arm. "I know baby. But I want to go back there and watch those bitches die of jealousy because I have the most amazing and handsome boyfriend in the world."

Pedro chuckled and hugged you tighter. "Can this most amazing and handsome boy take you to bed and enjoy your body?"

"Yes!" you squeaked.

A week later, your boss appreciated your work and decided to transfer you to a new, more experienced team. Your new co-workers turned out to be very friendly and communicative. Enjoyed your job again. Though it was nice knowing you had a great boyfriend thanks to whom you don't have to work. And you don't have to worry about money.

Taglist: @creedslove

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x you

153 notes · View notes

ghostofskywalker · 5 months

Note

Hi hun, I was wondering could you write 🥺

Bucky Barnes w/ fem reader with the quote

“You love me?” || “I always have”

If it’s taken I can choose another 💜

hi missy!! i will absolutely write that for you, it's so cute <;3

words: 766

summary: when you wake up after a mission, confessions are made.

Bedside Visitor

bucky barnes masterlist

The feeling of waking up in the medical wing of the Avengers Compound was not something you cherished, but it did happen more than you would have liked it to. This time however, was not because of a trip down the stairs or a bad cold, but an injury sustained in the field. There was nothing you could do about it now, but you’d prefer not to relive the memory of getting shot in the stomach again.

Once your eyes had adjusted to harsh light of this room, you noticed that you weren’t alone, and you were in no way surprised about who was sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs across from the foot of your bed.

“Bucky,” you breathed in a voice no louder than a whisper, just glad to see that he was okay. You weren’t surprised that your best friend would be here, but you certainly hoped that he had taken care of himself before camping out here to watch over your sleeping body.

You didn’t want to wake him, but unfortunately you were not successful in that endeavor. Seconds later he was at your bedside, looking into your eyes with an expression of worry you had never seen before. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you said, not wanting to worry him any more than he clearly was.

“I watched you pass out,” he said, clearly not calmed down by your brushing off of the subject. “And there’s a hole in your abdomen.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not feeling super great right now,” his eyebrows raised as you spoke. “But I made it out, we’re back in the compound, everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

“Y/N-”

“Bucky-”

“From where I’m standing, this is very much not fine,” he said seriously. “When I heard the gunshot, when you fell, I felt like my whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“Wow,” you said. “Didn’t know I had such an effect on you, Bucko.”

You could he was starting to get annoyed, but you weren’t completely sure why. Yes, you knew that you cared for you, you cared for him too. But this job wasn’t exactly all meetings and presentations, and you were not the first member of the team to land themselves in a situation that required medical care because of something that had happened out on a mission.

“Can we please be serious for a moment?” he asked, and you nodded, not wanting to annoy him too much. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad, considering what has happened to me in the last twenty four hours,” you said. “But that’s probably because of some kind of medication they have me on.”

“Yeah, the doctors put something in the IV,” he said, nodding. “They told me that with some time and physical therapy you’ll make a full recovery, but I still can’t help being worried. I’ve never liked it when the people I love are in pain, and this is no exception.”

Whatever you were originally going to say in response completely vacated your brain, and you were left to process the insane admittance that Bucky probably hadn’t even realized he had made. “You love me?”

He stopped, as if just now putting the pieces together. You watched as his face changed, his brain clearly trying to figure out something to say in response before he let out a soft sigh and spoke. “I always have. But I was never sure how you felt about me, so I kept it to myself. I’d rather be your friend than lose you over something as stupid as this.”

“Bucky,” you said, reaching out in search of his hand. As if he knew what you wanted, he extended it in your direction. “First of all, you could never lose me, and especially not over something as stupid as this. And second of all, I love you too.”

He stopped, an expression of surprise crossing his face, then a smile. “Really?”

You nodded. “Really. And I’d really like to kiss you, but I can’t really move my body right now.”

He laughed before leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips, and as much as you would have liked to have your first kiss not severely injured, it was perfect in a way you could never truly put words to.

But of course, there would be many chances for re-dos, and you never wanted to stop kissing him. And from the way he poured all his emotions into this kiss, you had an inkling that he probably felt the same way.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#winterficlets23 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader

72 notes · View notes

ctimenefic · 3 months

Text

So @strawberry-daiquiris wrote an incredible F1 Traitors AU (seriously, go read it) and was kind enough to let me paddle around in the Galex end of the pool.

Many thanks to @latecomersprivilege, for whom this is a belated birthday gift, an almost on time Valentine's gift, and ultimately not what she asked for but what she's getting!

It’s a month since the last episode aired and George hasn’t messaged him.

Oh, he’s in the group chat - he’s the admin of the group chat. He’s posting memes, even the ones about himself, nearly every day. Asking very sincerely after people’s partners, their kids. Adding little crying laughing emojis to almost all the jokes. (Almost all - never Alex’s. Not even once. Which. Come on. Checo’s not even that funny.)

So. Yeah, it’d been bad, at the end, at their last round table together, George damp eyed and smiling through it and Alex nearly fumbling his own defence trying to tell him one more time “it’s just a game”.

But. Like. Not so bad as to cancel out everything else. Or at least, Alex had thought so. Hoped so.

It’s been a month.

Hey just wondering if we shd have a coffee or smthg? Clear the air?

Sure. When?

Nxt wk? Peckham?

(George told him all about his little flat in Dulwich, how he properly loved all the twee village-y shit like the wooden sign-posts and bougie cafes, in their murmured conversations in the hotel corridors, heads ducked together and voices low. Alex had taken the piss, but so softly he’d barely recognised his own cadence. That- that had been the first clue, before he’d started noticing how George’s adams apple bobbed when he got loud.

But Dulwich is packed to the brim with Traitors fans, has to be, all middle class mums and families that gather round the telly of an evening to actually spend time together. They’d be spotted in seconds. So Peckham feels safer, crowded and anonymous and too fucking cool to pay attention if Alex has to get on his knees and beg George to- to-)

The cafe’s still a bit posh, which means it’s basically deserted. George is wearing the kind of T-shirt that only fits that well because it’s expensive.

He’s ordered tea already, and Alex wants to remind him to drink up, like he did at breakfast every morning, because George would always get too into their conversation to finish before it got cold. He’d slug it back anyway, wincing, and Alex would pretend to ignore the line of his throat.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” George blurts. “I know I- I didn’t help, I know, but after, I did want it to be you. You’d worked so hard.”

Alex stares at him. “I never thought I would. Maybe near the end, a bit, but. Well. I got lucky.”

George pulls a face. “Come on, you were brilliant at it. So convincing. I really thought I’d find out you were, like, an actor or something.”

George smiles at that, small and tight. “Oh, yeah, the office have been so weird about it. Saying they didn't watch, and then making jokes that prove they did. I've stopped paying attention to it.”

Alex tries to laugh, like it’s a joke. Like he hadn’t talked George’s ear off about the practice. How he’d use the money, if they won - as Faithful - to get back to his veterinary degree, properly qualify. “Nah, still at my old place. They’ve, uh, let me take the backroom stuff for a bit, while it dies down.”

Alex nods. Pretends George has got better at lying. “Hope they're not being nasty.”

“Oh, not too bad.” The ‘too’ makes Alex want to snarl, set his teeth in someone's neck. Bastards. And George's blasé tone runs a little thin as he goes on. “Might quit, actually, try the influencer thing for a bit. It's basically the same as sales, just, you know. Different product.”

“You'd be good at that,” Alex tries. “Influential. I'd be, uh, influenced.” In the time it takes George to blink three times, Alex experiences all nine levels of hell and a few more added just for him.

I'd be influenced. Christ.

“How are you doing with that, sponsorships and stuff?” George asks and Alex shrugs. He’s got his fans, the ones who think he was robbed, rather than bottled it. His Insta’s big, now, not millions but, like, decent. Marketable. Problem is, he isn’t.

“Turns out, being known as a really good liar doesn’t get loads of hashtag spon ops,” he says, trying to keep it light. Like money hadn’t been the whole point. George’s face falls, the first unrehearsed expression Alex has seen all morning.

“Oh crikey, I’m sorry, I didn’t- cause it’s been alright, and I was a traitor too, at the end so-”

“Yeah, but I forced you into it, didn’t I? I’m the bad guy.” There’s a decent TikTok edit of him to that Billie Eilish song, all his smiles and laughs and fond looks, set to the beat of sociopathy. It’s very slick; turned his stomach on the second watch. “Plus, you know, you look like that, which probably helps.”

He knows it’s been more than alright for George. He hasn’t liked any of his Instagram posts, too… proud? ashamed? But he’s seen them all, including the Stories, so George must know he’s been there. Or maybe he doesn’t, maybe there’s hundreds of people, and they’re not mutuals, he remembers abruptly. George didn’t follow him back.

He flips his phone in his hands, once, twice; worries at the crack in the screen down by the bottom right corner, just enough to feel the scrape against the pad of his thumb.

George notices, of course. Those big blue eyes, all the better for spotting clues. Terrible at knowing what they meant. “Do you wanna take a picture for insta then? Show people it’s all water under the bridge?”

“Uh, not really? I mean…” it doesn’t feel under the bridge, or air cleared. Alex still feels like he’s choking on it.

That small wrinkle he used to make fun of appears between George’s brows. “Wasn’t that the point of this?”

“Jesus, no, I’m not-” Alex feels sick, properly sick, hot chocolate coming back on him for a second. “I wanted to be friends - I want to be friends. Again.”

“Again,” George repeats, after a beat.

Alex swallows. Presses the tip of his tongue against the edge of his front teeth, where they turn sharp enough to cut, like a bit of pain now will soothe the sucking void where his stomach used to be. “Right, no, of course. Forget it, look, I'll get these and-”

George catches his wrist before he can make a break for it. His thumb lands in the soft spot between the tendons, where Alex’s pulse beats - ha - traitorously fast.

“Wait. You haven't told me how your mum is. And your sisters. And Luca, obviously, and the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Yeah, obviously. Can't go before I hear about the cats, ‘Lex. All of them. So you should probably, um, sit back down.”

So he does.

#my fic #f1 rpf fic #f1 rpf #galex #traitors au #an attempt was made #there's probably a part two where they Actually Kiss but good luck future me on writing that

37 notes · View notes

bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Text

"No Looking, No Touching, No Nothing." Ethan Landry X AFAB! Reader.

Well finally, here we are, the first smut for the new boy! I know, two fics of him in a row but hey, this is what love is! I adore this guy, expect me to revisit him many times! Now this is an idea that hit me hard and I couldn’t let it go, so, let's not waste time and get into this!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.7K. Ethan Landry X AFAB! Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Established Relationship. Rope Play. Restrained Ethan. Masturbation. Toy Use. Some Praise. Taunting. Teasing. Dirty Talk. Gagging. Cum Eating. Denial. Ruined Orgasm. Dom Reader. Mean Reader. Punishment. Crying. Begging.

—

Ethan was a good guy, a great boyfriend, really, but sometimes, just like any person, he could annoy you or do something to hurt you and the pair of you could clash. The issue was minor in the grand scheme but when it came down to it at times emotions and tempers flared and made even small issues get blown out of proportion. You stayed upset longer than he did, and he folded sooner than you did.

You expected it.

He was a needy guy, not being around you for even a few days while you had this spat was unbearable for him, and so he conceded. He pleaded to meet up, you allowed it and when your hands were in his, he asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”

It should have taken you longer than this to come to this idea but you had thought about, (masturbated to), this very idea a lot and thus here we are.

Ethan, wearing nothing but the ropes tied around his wrists and ankles and anchored to the posts in each corner of your bed. You were still mostly dressed, and had taken your time tying him up. He was watching your every move with great interest, you were securing his right wrist last, leaning over him, chest very close to his face and you could tell he was fighting the urge to press his face, feel you against his cheek, smell you, him trying so hard to be good was cute. You slipped a finger into the ropes hugging his wrist and tugged, “Too tight?”

A shake of his head as he responded quickly, “No, no it’s okay.”

“Good.” You withdraw your fingers and then lean away from him, in favour of leaning over to your nightstand, you open the drawer and start rummaging through, you find the first item in no time.

You pull it out and move it to your other hand, the first one still rooting around for what you wanted next. Ethan’s gaze was fixed on that first item in your grip, he recognized it of course, your favourite vibrator and he couldn’t help but wonder what you were planning on doing with it. You glance at him, a simple move of your eyes and a small smile plays on your lips, “Curious?”

“Very.” He admits, he was already hard at the mere suggestion of you dragging him back to your place and tying him down to show how serious he was about earning your forgiveness.

Painfully so when you’d stripped him down without so much as a kiss, again with a taunt that he could get that when you’d forgiven him. Now with your clothes partly gone, him trussed up and held down, and you, gripping that toy that you’d cum against countless times, was dying for any kind of touch. You hadn’t even really laid a hand on him, it was all mere suggestion, teases, and here he was leaking pre-cum against his stomach, desperate for real contact. He always had an active imagination and during times like this he seriously felt it wasn’t always a good thing.

Your fingers catch on the next item you were after, “Too bad. You’re gonna have to wait.”

The object was fished out and you held up and that made him snap out of his mental train of thought while watching you, gaze tears away from the vibe and up to the new thing you were holding and his eyes got wider. Explaining it was unnecessary, he recognized it was a blindfold. He wanted to protest but would never dream of it and still, not like he could stop you either way. You moved closer, you slipped the blindfold over his eyes, secured it behind his head before you left him entirely. He felt you get off the bed, you left him alone on the mattress and next he heard the scrape of the legs of the chair you kept at your desk along the floor.

You stop then. One hand on the back of the chair, the other still holding onto your vibe, looking over the criminally hot view of him tied to your bed.

His voice cuts through, asking, unsure, neediness already colouring his tone, “Are you still here?”

A laugh breaks out before you then tell him, “Yes, I’m still here. I'd never abandon you.”

"Good." He responds, clearly soothed by your admission.

You drop your panties and take your seat then. Settling back, legs spread, you reach down and begin to touch, slow, and soft, wetness already flowing. The pleasure starts low and easy and you begin to lean into it, an adjustment, shifting your hips, leaning in closer to your own touch and letting a small sound slip out. You weren’t sure he heard it at first until your gaze flicked to him, seeing his body react, a sharp inhale, a tug so minute on the restraints you almost missed it.

God, he was really going to have a rough time with this.

Soon fingers and quiet sighs weren’t enough and real flesh gave way to well placed silicone, one press of a button and it springs to life, the humming of the constant vibration filling the bedroom. You don’t waste more time, all warmed up, hands come down, the tip of the toy touches your clit and your legs jerk from the sudden and extreme jump in sensation and you let out a gasp.

He was trying to picture how you looked at this moment. How would you be positioned in the chair, did you get totally naked? Were you squirming? Browns pulled together, bottom lip tugged by your teeth, back arching-Fuck.

He wanted to see you. He listened hard, trying to commit every sound to memory, using each part as a clue to parse what you are doing to yourself that he wasn’t allowed to be privy to. He can almost see which is the most maddening thing, can kind of see but not really through the bottom of the blindfold. He shifted on the bed as your moans kicked up, it did feel good, but of course you had to play it up just a bit to really make it really hurt. Speaking of hurt he was beginning to ache, a dull but steadily increasing throbbing, a hard tug that made him want to wince. His cock was bobbing the same way his Adam's apple does when he takes a harsh swallow, sticky strands connecting inflamed red tip to pale taut stomach snap from the involuntary movement.

Your hips move, pressing yourself closer to feel the vibration stronger, holding the toy more snugly and you moan, loud, his name and that makes him want to beg. Instead he allows himself to curse and that makes you smile, a truly indulgent smile, a deep breath before you ask, voice clearly laced with pleasure, “How you doing over there?”

Horribly, terribly, in pain, wanting to touch you, taste you, but most of all he was feeling very, very fucking sorry.

He sugar coats it, still doing his best to earn his way back into your good graces, underselling how rough he was doing with a half shrug, “Not great.”

“Awe, no?” You played dumb, asking him in a tone that was sickeningly sweet and bordering on condescension. The end of your taunting question was punctuated with another moan, your head tipping back as you ground yourself harder. Next you said, as if you couldn’t help it, more hushed and on an exhale, “God, that feels good.”

Unfair, it’s all so unfair, he should be the one making you feel like that. His next response came out shakier than he intended it to, confirming what you said, “No.”

A coo of mock sympathy pours out of you, “Poor baby.”

He wants to whine but any sound he makes takes away from yours, he is still lost in his own head fantasising about what you are doing to yourself. He wondered if that sound, the one that sounded just a tad tortured, meant you were rolling a pert nipple between your fingers as you swirl your hips just so which then led to that sweet sounding moan leaving you? That slick patch on his stomach was growing steadily larger as he continued to ache for you, he was struggling to remember the last time he was this hard.

If you had realised previously what great masturbation fuel Ethan tied up and helpless on your bed was in real life as opposed to just your mind, you are pretty sure you would have tried it out ages ago. No point in lingering on that now when you can make up for lost time. The pleasure was building, you were moaning more, and his resolve was breaking under him, being crushed under the weight of his own desire. He tugs on the ropes restraining him and he can’t help it when he says the weak, “Please?”

The grin almost splits your face in half as you ease up, lifting the toy just a hair off your clit as you ask, “What was that Ethan?”

He doesn’t respond right away, clearly not having meant to say it in the first place, and you sing song his name out, “Ethannnn-”

A huff and he asks louder, “Please?”

Delicious, his tone was positively edible, “Please what? You have to be clear.”

Another tug on his ropes and he admits, “You’re too far away.”

You laughed, then you touched the vibe to your clit for a moment, the jolt of pleasure up your spine making another moan tear out before you ask, “I’m too far away?”

“Yesss-” He practically whined, “Please? Wanna feel you.”

“Awe, lovely, lonely, Ethan.” You hum in consideration before you pull the toy away again and start to get up, “I suppose I can be a little nicer.”

You push the chair aside and start to get on the bed, he feels the mattress shift and licks his lips in anticipation, waiting with an almost un-Godly amount of anticipation. He wonders where you will touch, what you will do and then, he feels it. Your legs brushing over his as you are getting comfortable on the bed and then nothing. He wonders for a second till it becomes clear, you chose to sit yourself at the end of the bed, between his spread legs. He could feel the barest hint of you on his calves so you were still technically touching him but it was yet again, another tease.

You are back to touching yourself in short order, vibrating silicone pressed back in place with another moan and a shudder he can feel now with you on the same surface as him and you are going to kill him.

His head tips back, chocolate curls splay across your pillow and he groans, this was too much fun. You tsk, “Now, now, no complaining, or you won’t get anything.”

Easier said than done of course. He bites his tongue as another melodic little moan pours out from your mouth and into his ears, syrupy and maddening, akin to honey. He is sweating far too much, his fists are clenching as you are working yourself over, a stuttering exhale as you curse makes him pulse again, him still leaking all the while.

As you look him over in his current predicament it makes the pleasure spike and more heat race through you. He was trying his best for you, neck and chest flush, dick so stiff it looks agonising for your boyfriend as he keeps attempting to tug on the ropes, as if they would magically give way any second and allow him to touch you or himself. The restraints easing to allow him escape was something you both know was an impossibility from how well you tied him, your knot practice had developed too far for something like that to happen. He was so sweet, so endearing, you soften slightly and place blame on how much pleasure is running through you for even considering it.

An idea strikes, leaning over, he feels your chest brush over his skin and his leg twitches under you as he feels hard nipples graze over him as you reach down over the edge of the bed to the floor, “I have a proposal.”

He hums in question and you continue, “I’d hate for you to ruin any chance you have of getting off so how about I make it so you can’t complain at all?”

Agreement comes lightening fast, a nod as those two words fills the space between you as he begs, “Yes, please, please, please-”

Your fingers snag what you wanted and you sit back up right, adjusting onto your knees you lean forward and ask, “Ready?”

A second and more confident nod and when he opens his mouth to respond you take that as your in and shove the damp lace between his lips, making sure the soaked gusset is pressed down to his tongue, effectively gagging him on your own arousal. You pull your fingers out and you sit back between his legs, hands totally off him and it took him no time to know just what you’d done. He moans into the wet and soft fabric, his eyes roll back behind the blindfold, another heavy bob of his shaft, slapping against his stomach.

His hips squirm, thrusting up uselessly into the empty air and you enjoy the sights of him so much it pushes you further, you turn the toy up higher, your moans get louder in pitch and deeper in passion.

The sounds of you were killing him, the wet slip of you moving it around on yourself, circling your clit probably, the creaking of the bed, the constant humming and the smell, Christ you were so close and so messy he could smell you.

He wanted you to climb aboard, bury your fingers in his curls and ride his face for all he was worth, he wanted you to take it, his tongue giving you what you needed instead of that vibration and having his nose buried so deep he would smell you hours after you parted. Another groan into the makeshift gag against his tongue, the taste of you is invading his senses, he wants it from the source, this wasn’t satiating his hunger at all, it was making it worsen, wrapping around his belly and tugging, causing another futile rock of his hips.

You were getting close, he could tell from the frequency of your moans, the panting of your breathes, the inability to stay still, you sounded fucking perfect and he craves and hurts in desperation.

“Oh fuck, Eth-Ethannn, M’ almost there.” You cried to him.

He knows, he knows, dear fucking God does he know.

There is not a thing he can do about it, he can only listen and continue to throb as you keep repeating his name, a chant, a hymn, a prayer interspersed through gasps and moans and then that hitch, that damn hitch in your breath. It tells him everything, you are on the razors edge and you suck in that last breath before ecstasy takes hold and he is forced to listen to the worst torture of the day thus far when he cannot do a single thing about it, he has to listen to you cum all while whimpering his name and about how fucking good it feels.

It feels incredible, electric and revitalizing, it spreads through you, washing over you beautifully, totally in sync with yourself and lost to the feeling of the moment. Perfection.

By the time you have rode out your bliss, his nails were hurting his palms from how hard they bit into them, the sheets below him felt damp from how much he had been sweating, his limbs a touch sore from how much he’d been yanking on the ropes attempting to do something, anything. In short, he was a wreck, the way he was breathing was as if he was post orgasm along with you but now, he was still thoroughly unsatisfied.

Your voice cuts through his deliciously horny haze, a pleasant sigh as the humming stops, the toy turned off, “Mmm, that felt soooo good.”

He is so sure. You were being mean, very mean and he wanted to tell you as such but with your balled up underwear still in his mouth he could not.

You take him in again, the sight of him, the utter mess that was your boyfriend, his chin was wet, he’d been drooling. You know he is obsessed with the taste of you and the idea of him unable to help himself from licking and sucking the very essence of you from the material normally pressed to your most intimate places makes you want to go for another round already.

You think that he has almost suffered enough, there was one last thing to do, to really drive home the point and make sure he doesn’t pull that shit again, that he is truly sorry and contrite. Another adjustment, you reach out, tug the panties from his mouth, they are drenched between you before and his spit, you toss them aside as he works his jaw out and you ask, “You sorry?”

“So, so sorry.” He nearly hiccups and you hum, “You really are?”

He pleads, you are sure if you could see his eyes they would be positively beseeching, “I am! I really am! I’m sorry, please, please believe me.”

“Okay, okay I believe you. So…Do you want to cum?”

The answer was obvious, his excitement was immediate, “Yes! So bad, need it, need to cum, need you, please-”

You giggle at his frustrated urgency and say, “Alright, I’ll help you out, I’m gonna stroke you till you cum and won’t stop till you're done.”

The words you picked were purposeful, carefully crafted to put him at ease. A false sense of security because you however had other plans. He’d take whatever you had to offer, and this was more than generous to him all things considered, “Thank you, fuck, thank you, thank you.”

“Of course, anything for you.” Hands start low. You are sitting on your knees between his ankles and your hands start there, begin to slide up, teasing touches of your fingertips and passes of your palms and he squirms. Short and soft pleas of, "Baby please, M' dying-" Go unheard as do soft calls of you name.

Your hands continue your ascent, up and up until your fingers pass over his inner thighs, intricate patterns drawn, so close but so far from where he truly wants them, he tries to remain patient, to wait but you make it a difficult task. Your hands don’t stop moving, gentle strokes and then two fingers, one on either side slide up, missing the base of his shaft but impossibly close to it before tracing along his hip bones. He groans in disappointment and you bite back your grin. You don’t relent, you watch it all happen, as you continue to tease, touching him, legs, arms, chest, stomach, hips, everywhere but where he wants it most, it all mounts.

He was already very worked up from your little show and so it didn’t take much until you knew it was inevitable and you timed it just right.

One finger is all it took. One long, languid stroke of your finger, starting right at the base of the underside of his shaft, dragging up and over veins and the blushed and hot velvet of his skin, your nail catches on his frenulum before your fingertip circles the tip once, twice, three times before your hand pulls away all together.

His reaction was nothing short of gorgeous, back trying to arch, a gasp, his breath stutters before he bites his bottom lip in response to your first touch of the afternoon on him in any real way that matters.

Your hands are back on his hips, keeping your promise, your hands don’t stop stroking, just not where he wants it and you get your reward, you watch.

Eyes don’t leave as it happens, his dick is straining, his chest rising and falling with quick and shallow breaths and he whines, begging anew, “No, no, please, no, kee-keep touching me, please! Shi-shit, shit, shit, I cah-can’t stop it, fuck!”

And as if on cue, poor, desperate Ethan cums without a single thing touching his dick, your hands still on his hips, nails scratching lightly at the end of each indulgent stroke of your fingers. His dick is twitching jerkily against his stomach, cum not even shooting out, more dribbling, an agonising ooze coating his happy trail and leaking down his sides in short order as he struggles in his bonds, his head pressed to the pillow under it, heels digging into the mattress below. He whimpers out your name as the lack of sensation sinks into his bones, the heavy weight of the lack of pleasure as he leaks his cum out, the physical response of his orgasm happening, cock pulsing, sac pulled taut to his body but none of the actual amazing sensations to accompany it.

You technically didn't lie. Your hands continued stroking him throughout his orgasm, even if it was a ruined one.

It takes a while for him to settle down. For his body to go slack and his dick to stop spilling white all over himself, and you feel accomplished, truly proud and also very hot and bothered over the fact that you did this to him, no one and nothing else. Just you.

You reach out, your finger runs through the puddle of cum, dipping briefly into his belly button before going lower and lower and then running over his spent and slowly softening shaft, it makes him suck on his teeth, a sharp inhale that makes his body go taut again from overstimulation. Your hand lifts and when it does he relaxes slowly again, you suck on your finger, tasting him before you go in for more, he begs you to stop, tells you it hurts, you pay him, and his pretty promises no heed and press on.

You continue your pattern until you hear it.

A sob.

Heart wrenching, show stoppingly stunning, you glance up, finger pausing on his body, and you see his cheeks are wet underneath the blindfold, you made him cry.

You halt, he feels you get up, you come forward and sit up near his head, you reach down and tug his blindfold up, sad brown eyes are looking up at you, a pout on his wet face and you lean down. You kiss him and he leans up into it, impossibly needy, you smile into the kiss, nip at his bottom lip before pulling back and saying, a hand stroking down his face you tell him, “Now I forgive you.”

#WOOO #THE BOY #Scream 6 x reader #Ethan Landry X reader #BHF writing #ENJOY THIS #slasher x reader #I fucking loooove him AH

209 notes · View notes

thequietkid-moonie · 10 months

Note

Ok but: Estúpido Cupido (written by Celly Campello, don't mistake it for her album although it has really great songs as well) with Loid

Fake dating a unpredictable and carefree reader

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Loid Forger ]

[ Spy x Family ]

› Song that inspired this [ Estúpido Cupido - Celly Campello ]

× In this fic you take Yor's place

I really liked the song, I really loved the rhythm, I almost start dancing 🤭 I read the lyrics before hearing the song and it fits really well the rhythm!!

Well my dear, I hope you like this as much as I did ❤️ (i hope I don't disappoint you with the idea I had)

One day you were just walking down the streets as usual when you end up bumping into a handsome gentleman, he was so kind and polite and you couldn't stop yourself and end up talking to him more than you thought, even getting the opportunity to meet his little daughter, who looks at you curiosily but doesn't leave her father's side

In one moment of the conversation the man asked you if you could be so kind to do him a favor and impersonate his spouse, embarrassed but determinanted explaining that the last wish of his deceased wife was to give the best education to her beloved daughter on Eden Academy but he won't be able to do it if he was all alone, maybe was because of how endearing was his determinantion or maybe it was just pity, but for whatever reason you accepted helping him with this (also, it could help you cover up your terrible love life)

That way you two started living together, playing the role of a beautiful and happy marriage couple, however non of you would guess what it will become your life together. As well, both of you had to get used to each other in little time, at least enough until the interview with the directors of the school came

For you it was funny all the preparation Loid wanted to have for the interview, making a lot of efforts for this to work and you couldn't help but laugh at his plan, he was thinking that you probably weren't taking this seriously and that he will have to carry it from the most part himself but you truly surprised him when in the interview you remember most of the things he had told you and even tried to help Anya when she forgot, he even can see how irritated you were by one of the men that were being specially pushy with you but you tried to keep the facade

After the interview, once in house the atmosphere was very tense but you break the silence finally expressing how disgusting and irritating that bitter man was and started saying that you were sure that Anya would be able to enter on that school even if you have to force it, it was obvious that you were just trying to cheer them up, what started to work, specially with Anya, and Loid can't help but smile at your attitude

From that day his life become a pretty messy caos full of surprises, Loid was used to adapt to all the situation and act conform to them but your carefree and sometimes cheerful attitude was something that always manage to surprised him, it was something that stressed him at first not knowing how to handle it but as the time pass he just started to learn to follow your lead and even trust you more (and yet you always manage to surprise him sometimes)

He get used to you doing what you want or saying what is on your mind without worring much but that doesn't stop him from worring and getting taken aback, like that time when you spent some time looking at him pretty wary, he was troubled thinking if he had done something suspicious or make you doubt him until you finally tell him what was in your mind, out of the blue without any kind of warning you just tell him that he was too perfect like if it was something bad, you were even wondering how the hell he was single before meeting him, he was dumbfounded but before he could say anything you clarified that you weren't complaining with a smile before going away without giving him the chance to say something

Loid is constantly wondering what you will do next, he doesn't really know what to expect when you had suprised him with all kind of things, with compliments out of the blue (ones that related to his person and not like the spy, ones that he isn't used to), with being more perceptive that he thought before or even just taking things like normal and don't make a big deal out of them (even when he had thought on a million of excuses to explain himself), there are some times when you ask him if you two shouldn't being doing things that couples normally do like dates and other times you just become affectionate out of the blue (like taking his hand so casually)

Coming home to see you and Anya becomes almost like a playful what to guess what he would find, some days he find you doing chores or even making dinner, other days he had came home to see you and Anya playing to be spies around the house, others days you are just passing a more calm time with Anya on the couch, and yet not matter what he find he is never disappointed

After a while Loid start to feel expectant of what little adventures he will have with you and Anya, he start to feel excited even over the days the three of you just have time to relax and yet Loid doesn't allow himself to admit it, he always repeat to himself that is for the mission and that he has to be ready to whatever you will do, he can't let himself get surprised by you, but as much as he tries to prepare himself and be ready so you don't surprise him you always manage to find ways to do it, you can easily flustered him or make him feel so comfortable and relaxed that he just forget for a moment about the mission

Loid tried to deny it and tell himself that this is all for the mission but deep down he is always happy to see you, his heart beat faster with amusment every time you surprised him, and he will never accept it out loud but almost every time he smiles at you and Anya his smiles is sincere and full of love

#music prompt game #spy x family x reader #sxf x reader #loid forger #loid forger x reader #loid x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

81 notes · View notes

the-badger-mole · 1 year

Text

I Just Wanted To Say...

Since Sayaka invited Zuko on their first date, Iroh insisted that it was only right that Zuko invite her on the second.

"I don't know if I want to go on a second date," Zuko said quietly. He poured himself some tea. He was exhausted from the night before, and not looking forward to trying to focus on his work. After he and Katara had left the roof, he went to bed hoping to have at least two or three hours of sleep, but he'd ended up staring up at the ceiling until it was time for him to get up and start his day. Katara was nowhere to be found at breakfast, but that didn't surprise him. She wasn't a morning person in the best circumstances.

"Why not?" Iroh asked, jarring Zuko from his thoughts. He didn't sound angry, but he had a concerned frown on his face. "Did something happen last night?" Zuko's hands tightened around his teacup, and he kept his eyes down.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Did you not enjoy your evening with Miss Sayaka?" Iroh pressed.

"Oh," Zuko let out a sigh of relief and unclenched his hands. "No, it was fine. I just...I didn't feel a connection."

Iroh was silent for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Zuko was sure he was counting to himself. Finally he met Zuko's eyes with serious intent.

"My dear nephew," he started ponderously. "The last thing I want is for you to feel pressure to marry and start planning a family, but you are the Fire Lord, and part of your duty is to see to it that the throne is secure for the next generation."

"Uncle, I know that," Zuko said. "I just-"

"I want you have as much freedom to make your choice as possible," Iroh continued over Zuko's protests. "However, if you don't start taking this a bit more seriously, your council will take that as a reason to put pressure on you."

"Fine," Zuko huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'll take it seriously, but I don't think it's going to work with Sayaka."

"Why not?" Iroh pressed. "She's a smart, kind and creative woman. And very easy on the eyes. What could she possibly have done in one evening to make you not even give her a chance?" Iroh sat expectantly, leaning forward on his elbows as he tried to read the answer in his nephew's face. Zuko felt the heat rise in his cheeks and he broke Iroh's gaze. How could he explain, he wondered. He had had a good time with Sayaka. He had even been planning to ask her out again. But then he'd spent hours on the roof talking with Katara and pointing out constellations, and it was... It had felt like a date. When she took his hand as they walked along the empty corridors, Zuko's pulse had skyrocketed. He hadn't felt this way with Sayaka once during the evening, not even when she'd screwed up her courage and gave him a peck on his cheek after he'd escorted her home. There were a couple of moments when Zuko wondered if Katara had felt it too. If she had, though, she didn't say.

It was crazy for Zuko to completely give up with Sayaka because she didn't give him butterflies like Katara did. He was old enough to know that love at first sight was too rare for any couple to bank on. After all, it had taken him years to realize he had a crush on Katara. A crush that until the night before seemed unrequited, and even now all evidence that it might not be could just be in his head. She'd had trouble sleeping and had sought him out. It wasn't the first time she'd done that. It wasn't even the first time she'd held his hand. But she'd never taken him for a starlit picnic, and she had just said recently that that was her idea of a perfect first date.

"It wouldn't hurt to see her again," Iroh said, breaking through Zuko's thoughts once again. "First dates are tricky, and I'm sure both of you were nervous. I won't push if you are determined to not see her again, but I do hope you consider it."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Katara didn't see Zuko until dinner. She'd woken up late, and hurried to the storage rooms to continue sorting through the Water Tribe artifacts. Zuko had invited her to spar with him before lunch, but Katara declined, saying she was swamped- which wasn't strictly untrue- and she ended up working through lunch. The work was soothing. Focusing on cataloging art and weapons and tools kept her mind off of other, more confusing, thoughts.

She had weaseled her way into a date with Zuko the night before, she admitted to herself. She wasn't sure if he'd noticed, but it wasn't fair of her to do. They hadn't talked about Sayaka at all. Katara hadn't asked about their date, and Zuko didn't offer any information. Instead they spent hours reminiscing and talking about Katara's project and making plans for the next time all of their friends were together. None of those plans involved introducing Sayaka. They'd stargazed until the very first hints of dawn began snuffing out the stars and they'd finally gone to bed. There was a moment when they stopped outside of her suite where Katara thought they were going to kiss, but then Zuko had cleared his throat, wished her pleasant dreams and then headed back to his rooms. As she lay down in her bed, guilt and shame overwhelmed Katara.

Had Zuko realized what she'd done? Did he think she was weird? Is that why he left in such a hurry? Katara didn't think this was a friendship ruining incident, but it may have done damage regardless. And she didn't want to be one of those girls with guy best friends who made it their life's mission to ruin any potential romances for those friends. She would let it blow over and never mention their "date" again. There would be no more midnight visits to his room to talk, and she would be supportive of any relationship he wanted to pursue. She would be a good friend to Zuko if it killed her, and this crush would go away on it's own. Someday.

It was with that conviction that Katara prepared for dinner that evening. Iroh would be there, as he usually was, so there would be a buffer for Katara. And if she took a bit longer getting ready, it was because she was covered in dust and grime from her hours of sorting, and not because she wanted to make sure Iroh was already there when she arrived. Still, when she walked in and saw Zuko sitting across from his uncle, Katara's steps faltered. He smiled uncertainly at her, and Katara felt all of her best intentions slipping away from her. She hesitated for a moment before taking the empty seat beside Iroh instead of her usual spot next to Zuko. A strange look passed over Zuko's face, but he quickly found a smile and greeted her.

"Zuko was just telling me about his date last evening," Iroh told Katara, pouring her a cup of tea.

"O-oh!" Katara feigned interest. "Yes, that-that was last night." Now Iroh shot her a strange look. Katara flushed, but smiled pleasantly. "How did it go?"

"It...went well," Zuko said hesitantly.

"And yet he doesn't want to see her again!" Iroh waved his hand exasperatedly at Zuko, then turned to Katara pleadingly. "He has no good reason. Please, my dear Master Katara, help me talk some sense into him."

"Oh..." Katara gaped at Iroh for a moment before she recovered herself and forced a smile. "I-I don't think I should stick my nose in this. I don't even really know Sayaka."

"Neither does Zuko," Iroh insisted. "He won't even give her a chance, and I just want to know why! Why, Nephew?"

"I'm not interested in her!" Zuko nearly shouted. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Look, Uncle, it's nothing against her personally. I just don't feel a connection." Iroh groaned and ran his hands down the sides of his face in agony.

"Fire Lord Zuko, I say this with all love and respect," he said, keeping his voice measured. "You are a very closed off person. It takes a while for anyone to truly get to know you. If you dismiss every woman you don't connect with on the first date, you are going to be single for a very long time! Please just consider one more date with Miss Sayaka." Zuko's cheeks flushed a bright red. Then he stood up and stalked out of the room.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This time, the avoidance of each other seemed to be mutual. Katara and Zuko didn't cross paths again until the next day when Katara needed to go to Zuko's office. She needed to have him sign paperwork expediting a shipment to Sokka and her father, and there was unfortunately no one else who could get it done fast enough. She knocked timidly at the office door.

"Uh...come in!" Zuko's voice sounded oddly strained. Katara stuck her head in and saw with concern that his face had gone beet red.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked slipping inside.

"Hello, Master Katara." Katara froze at the cheery greeting. Sayaka stood up from her seat across from Zuko and smiled at her.

"Oh!" Katara's mouth split into a painfully wide smile. "Sayaka! What a nice surprise! I didn't know you'd be here today. A-am I interrupting? I can come back-"

"Oh, please, don't," Sayaka hurried to assure her. "I was just here today to see my father, and I thought I'd pop in and say hello. Fire L- I mean, Zuko, I'm going to stop by Dad's office, but I can't wait for this weekend!" She smiled warmly at Katara once more. "Nice seeing you, again!"

Sayaka's departure seemed to have sapped all the warmth from the room. A shiver ran down Katara's spine as she turned to face Zuko. His eyes were wide and almost frightened, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. Katara hoped her face didn't look as stricken as she felt. The too bright smile was still on her face, though, and she did her best to keep her voice airy and cheerful.

"This weekend?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Erm...yeah," Zuko said. "I-I asked Sayaka to dinner. Nothing's set in stone yet, though." Katara shrugged and shook her head.

"I'm just surprised," she said. "Last night you told us you weren't planning to see her again."

"Uncle convinced me," Zuko shrugged. "What do I know about romance? My last relationship was a disaster. I thought...well, I thought maybe he had a point about connections not being immediate."

"So you're just going to date her until you feel something?" The question came out sharper than Katara intended. Zuko scowled at her, his defenses raised high.

"Well it beats sitting around here all day waiting for something to happen."

"What?" Katara blinked in surprise at him. Zuko ran his hand through his hair and paced in front of his desk.

"Nothing," he huffed. "Forget it." He made another pass across the floor and suddenly stopped in front of Katara. "No, I can't forget it. What was that the other night?"

"Th-the other night?" Katara stammered.

"The other night when you came to my room and took me up to the roof for a picnic under the stars?" Zuko said sarcastically. "That night?"

"Oh," Katara ducked her head. She could feel Zuko's penetrating gaze, like the sun in the Si Wong desert. Her tongue had turned to lead in her mouth, and Zuko was waiting for her to say something. Anything.

After a moment, Zuko let out another frustrated growl and turned away from her.

"Forget I said anything," he told her. "Obviously, I read something into the situation that wasn't there." He swept past Katara and headed for the door.

"Don't go," Katara said quietly. Zuko froze in his tracks and looked back at her.

"What?"

"Don't go," Katara repeated a bit louder. "Don't go out with Sayaka."

"Why not?" Zuko asked desperately.

"Zuko, I..." Katara felt helpless in her agitation. What was she thinking? Zuko was about to go on a second date. With a girl he didn't even seem terribly interested in. There was no real urgency. But the idea of spending another night in Zuko's office waiting for him to come home from a date with a beautiful woman who absolutely had marriage on her mind was too much. She felt drunk. She felt stupid.

Zuko caught her shoulders as she tried to flee, and he made her face him. His eyes were oddly intense as they bore into her, trying to read her thoughts on her face.

"Please." His soft, pleading voice was at odds with the tightness around his eyes and mouth. "Please, just say it, Katara. I need to hear you say it. Why don't you want me to go out with Sayaka?" The world seemed to have gone quiet. The air in Zuko's office was thick and heavy around them.

"Zuko..." Katara's breath hitched. She reached up hesitantly, her fingers brushing his wrists. His arms twitched at the contact, and he leaned in closer to her.

"Tell me why," he repeated softly. Katara shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

"It should be me," she said. The words hung between them, heavy and tangible. As if they could be read, if Zuko would just look a bit closer. "I can't take the thought that you might...I just needed to tell you before you got into anything serious. Zuko, I love you. I've loved you a long time, but I didn't know what it was at first. I don't want you to go out with Sayaka, and I know that's selfish, and I won't stop you if you really do want to see her again, but... Please don't?"

The silence stretched on into eternity. Katara stood trembling under Zuko's gaze, but she refused to give into her instinct to run. It wouldn't be fair, she knew, to dump all of that on him and not even give him a chance to speak. But his silence was fueling her panic, and she wasn't sure how long she could ignore her urge to flee his presence.

Then he took a step forward. Zuko closed the distance between them, and grasped at Katara's elbows. He leaned in, and Katara was certain she would wake up in a moment.

"I just needed to hear you say it," he murmured. Katara gasped as his lips closed over hers. Shock froze her in place for just a split second before she curled into Zuko's hold. There would be a lot to discuss later. After all, any relationship the Fire Lord got into had the weight of expectation. It didn't matter, though. No matter what came next, they'd work it out. Katara knew this was where she belonged for the rest of her life, and as Zuko tried his best to pull her even closer to him, it seemed that he agreed.

Part 1

#atla #zutara #sequel to “if it's not too late”#poor girl 🥺#but she'll get over it #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

160 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 9 months

Note

May I request Chuuya (bsd) with prompt 90. I hope you have a wonderful new year.

Guys, my holidays are the day after tomorrow over so that means slower updates.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, violence, death

Prompt 90

Merry, easygoing and sweet were words Chuuya would usually connect with your personality, sweetness that made the bitter pill that at times was his life easier to swallow. As long as you were around, he felt a sense of excitement and giddiness comparing to those of a child in a candy store, a lighthearted joy he'd never really experienced before. If there was one person he would want to spend the rest of his life with, it had to be you, your life always refreshing with the intentions of cheering him up when you would notice his grumpy and stressed exterior. He had to cherish you, he had to protect you.

Something had changed recently though and it was painful to see. Your mood had had a shift in a very negative direction. You often looked apprehensive, nervous, downright skittish when you would head to work to the Café you normally loved so much. You often checked the mailbox as if afraid that he'd find something he shouldn't find and dodged all of his questions with a wry half-hearted smile and shallow reassurances that work was merely a bit stressing at the moment. Did you seriously expect him to believe that?

---

It had been a while since he had visited your workplace, work in the Port Mafia was everything but sunshine and muffins after all which made your own occupation all the more ironic. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the floating scent of coffee, tea and pastries, the delicious goods proudly presented in the vitrines. The interior designed to look cozy and homely, painted in pastel colours. Chuuya had a bit of a history with this café, had it been the place where he had first met you after all and had returned to time and time again only to catch glimpses of you. So a lot of the stuff knew him, at least from his appearance and he spotted one of the waitresses heading to the area where only workers of this place were allowed to enter, most likely to get you.

The Ecexutive sat down on a table located at the end of the Café, giving him a good view of the other customers in the place and a nice look outside of the little place too, allowing him to spot everyone outside on the streets and every individual who would enter this place. The door to the space only stuff was allowed was swung open and out came you, worry written all over your face as your eyes scanned the place before finally landing on him. Quick steps were taken as you hurried to him, your eyes nervously glancing back every few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" you hissed at him, your face twisted into one of dread and distress, your tray clutched against your chest as if you were hugging it for comfort. The lack of any warm greeting for him took Chuuya back, too puzzled for about two seconds to reply which gave you time to continue. "Chuuya, you have to leave this place." There was urgency in your voice whilst your eyes were silently pleading him to just comply to your wishes without any discussion. You should have known better though as his astonished expression faded and turned into a mask of concern and determination. The kind of stubborn determination that had landed him a date with you all this time ago, the kind of stubborn determination that meant he wouldn't leave until he had an answer, a favourable one.

"I'm not leaving until I have found out why you've been acting so strange lately." he replied back, narrowing his eyes as he was staring at your panicky form. "I already told you that it's nothing serious." you shot back, your voice a bit louder than intended, shaky at the end.

"Have you even looked at yourself lately? Stop lying and try to brush it off as nothing. Try to consider my feelings too and how it makes me feel seeing you so gloomy and jumpy all the time."

He could see that you were biting the insides of your cheeks nervously, eyes holding contact with his own as he could see that you were contemplating right now. You flinched when you felt his fingertips brushing up and down your arms.

"What happened? Tell me."

You glanced nervously over your shoulders as you were checking for something before you turned to him, swallowing down nervously before sucking in a deep breath.

"My-"

"Hey, (l/n)! What's taking you so long?"

You nearly bit into your lip as you shut your mouth, spooked as soon as you heard the loud voice booming through the Café, disturbing all customers. You quickly shook Chuuya's hands off, turning around as if to run back to the source of the voice before you were stopped. Chuuya's hands rested heavily on your shoulders as he pulled you back, his chest brushing against your back. Grey eyes bore an irritated look as they landed on the person who had just left the staff's only area and marched right at you. They weren't dressed in any work clothes as their wear made them appear more as the manager of this place than anything else. Chuuya knew the actual manager of this place though, a older but kind old man. Still, there was a name tag clipped on the fabric of their suit which Chuuya was able to read once they'd gotten close enough.

Their last name sounded familiar. Wasn't that the name of the actual manager of this place?

Oh...Now he understood.

You felt the grip on your shoulders tighten, pressing you even closer to him in a protective manner, although you just knew that Chuuya had just connected all the dots. Needless to say, he was fuming right about now.

Their eyes narrowed as they saw Chuuya's hands on your shoulders and how close you two stood. They also stepped closer, grabbing one of your arms and attempting to pull you away only to blink confused when you leaned closer to Chuuya.

"Say, is this man harassing you?"

"No. You see...this is my-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as Chuuya's temper got the better of him, their hold on your arm had made him see red quickly and he yanked their wrist away from your skin in a nearly bone-crushing grip whilst pulling you with the other hand behind him.

"I'm their boyfriend." he gritted out, a fire in his grey eyes that threatened to burst out and scorch the bastard in front of him. They whimpered as they tried to tear his hand away from their wrist without an success.

"Chuuya! Chuuya, let them go. That's the new manager of this place." you begged him, assisting your new boss in attempting to break them free of Chuuya's iron-hard grip. You felt the eyes of every person on you right now and the shame and guilt made you all tearful, your vision blurring.

"Chuuya, please just stop!" you cried out, hitting his chest with your fist. He was livid but his face softened a bit when he noticed that you were about to cry. They stumbled back with a painful howl when he pushed them back forcefully, noticing to his dismay that his lack of self-control had caused quite a scene in the small café.

He shot them one last glance, filled with revulsion and fury that made them scramble away quickly before turning to you, doing his best to stuff all possible anger down. You were a victim, it wasn't your fault.

"Get all of your stuff. We're going home."

You almost gladly obeyed, with the full knowledge that you probably wouldn't return again.

---

"I can only pray that they won't fire me." you muttered out, face hidden in your palms as you let out a frustrated groan, unsure who to be angry with. Your knees were pulled close to your chest, your back leaning back into the cushion of the couch.

You did feel a bit better though as Chuuya had more or less forced out everything as soon as both of you had arrived home and he had been given enough time to cool down. A few weeks ago your old manager had given the café to his nephew as he had fallen ill and was currently being treated in the hospital. He had been telling his staff about it beforehand but no one of them could have possibly expected his nephew to be such an arsehole. Arrogant and entitled, terrible and mean. They had flirted with you and other staff members, ignoring the fact that some of them had already partners and had gone as far as forbidding them to mention such a thing whilst working there. You hadn't told Chuuya anything out of fear to be fired and since you didn't want to bring any bad reputation upon the little shop, for the sake of the old manager.

"Don't tell me that you actually plan to go back to work in there." Chuuya muttered in disbelief. You peeked at him through your fingers, revealing half of your face which was glaring at him slightly, harmless. You couldn't deny that the smug monkey had deserved the good scare from Chuuya but that didn't mean that Chuuya had to react so hot-headed.

"Believe me, I'd gladly stay at home instead of returning to that place but it's my only job."

"Then why don't you just do that?"

You gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Because I need to earn money somehow. And who knows, if I'm lucky I might not lose my job."

"You actually think that I'd let you go back there?"

Now you turned fully to him, leaning closer to him.

"So you suggest that I should just stay home? What am I supposed to do the whole day then?"

"Don't know. Eat a lot, buy pretty clothes, waste the money that I earn." he murmured with a grin on his face.

"So you're just giving me access to everything you earn, or what."

"You're free to spend my money however you like it. You don't even need to work."

You scoffed in an entertained manner, your tongue poking against the inside of your cheeks. "You're quite a smug idiot yourself, you know that?" you told him in an affectionate tone, earning you only a wider grin. "Of course I am, that's why you fell in love with me." You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

He was really unbelievable.

---

A few days passed by, anxiety-free days where you stayed in a happy bubble and followed Chuuya's advice of not working and just enjoying your free time. You hadn't cared too much about what your manager would think and some of your co-worker had texted you and showed their full support of you resigning from the job, in fact a lot of them were feeling the same. It was heart-breaking, seeing the community in this once so wonderful place falling apart but you'd rather end everything on a good note than leave with only scarring memories.

It wasn't until something very unlikely happened and they send you a message, the first one since they had started. You had always feared that they would do so but their interest in you and others was very superficial so this caught you off-guard and for a short while you considered blocking their number and let it be. It wasn't until they mentioned that they were being followed that you found yourself clicking onto the notification, browsing through the few unread messages with a forming lump of dread in your stomach as they told you that they were being followed by some men and wanted you to come to help them since your contact had been the first one to get randomly picked in their fright.

Attempts to ignore them became quickly hard as they started spamming you, each and every message more urgent than the other. You tried to call Chuuya to ask him where he was and if he could pick them up only to have the voicemail answer. He was most likely still at work. A few minutes passed by, minutes where you stared at the screen filling with new messages every few seconds until you caved in, told them that you'd head out for them but that this would be the only time and that you didn't want to be any further involved with them.

---

It had gotten quite chilly outside, a breeze from the ocean cooling the air down and as you felt the goosebumps on your skin, you regretted not having brought even a thin jacket with you. The vibration in your pockets had stopped and so had the constant flow of messages from your now former boss. You hadn't minded it too much at first but after a while you had started to find it rather weird, considering how persistent they had been about it at first. You were close to the location they had last told you they'd be passing soon but since then you had received no update. You tried texting them, only to be left unread for a couple of minutes.

This was suspicious.

That's when you started calling them. Calling and calling them over and over again as you finally reached the street, still doing your best to reach them. Yet the voice mail was the only thing that picked up after every call and that's when the situation truly dawned on you as you started considering that they might have really been in troubles. Until now you had somehow thought that they were just making a bad joke and considering their attitude, you wouldn't even be that surprised if they might have just pissed some people off. But besides being a horrible jerk, they were nothing more.

You felt a knot of growing dread at the base of your stomach, tightening and churning the longer you paced back and forth the streets, phone pressed against your ear, ignoring the people passing by who gave you slightly concerned looks when noticing your growing unease. You ran the entire street up and down, searching for them but were unable to find them anywhere.

You stopped after another pointless sprint up and down, out of breath and feeling hot after all the running. They weren't here, you could finally tell that much. Neither had they replied to any of your calls and texts and that left you now only with the solution that something must have happened to them. You were brainstorming where they could be right now and what you were supposed to do now before an idea popped up in your head as you passed one of the more abandoned side streets which you hadn't considered checking. It should be obvious that when being followed, only stupid characters from movies would head into one of those since it would be safer to stay on the busy streets but on the other hand, the nephew of your old boss hadn't been the brightest.

You swallowed before stepping inside the sideways, slowly navigating your way through this part of the city. It was empty, no people and no nothing in sight and the light was significantly dimmer in here due to being blocked by the buildings surrounding you. You had no idea where you were headed, you'd never gone into any sideways like any sane person would but now here you were.

You wiped out your phone once more at some point, having to use the flash light to see anything in front of you which was still just an empty sideway but you wanted to be safe. You only trailed around for a few minutes before you decided that enough was enough, making your way quickly back to the main road, switching back to just pointlessly and frantically calling them. The sound of a phone ringing deeper inside the alleyway stopped you.

---

Chuuya was standing, groaning frustrated as he failed to reach you via phone again. He had come home, feeling elated and willing to have a glass of alcohol and some cuddles with his darling only to find the house empty. You could have just been outside like you'd been the last few days but normally you'd always been at home to greet him when he usually came back from the Port Mafia to spend the evening together. Still, he had tried to question it too much. Almost two hours later though where you hadn't read any of his texts and ignored all of his calls, he felt close to exploding. It had gotten very dark outside by now, he had called some of his subordinates to look for you whilst going out himself to search for you. What if you'd been kidnapped by someone? You could run into all sorts of dangerous people outside which was rather ironic coming from the Executive himself.

What if something had happened to you? He could never forgive himself if anything-

As soon as his phone started ringing, showing him that one of his men was calling him, he quickly accepted their call.

"Did you find them?" he asked aggressive and agitated. He'd gotten far too many calls already of others informing him that they hadn't found you in the locations they had searched for you.

"We did but..."

"But what?" he hissed into the phone, on the verge of breaking the device with how tightly he was clutching the object. What had happened?

"They...they found the corpse. We suspect that (m/n) must have contacted them when noticing that they were being followed."

Chuuya felt the colour draining from his face. He was used to such gruesome sights but you...

"How are they?"

"In shock, boss. What should we do now?"

"Get them out of there without causing any ruckus. Get them in the car. Meet me there."

---

It was a heart-breaking sight when he arrived at the location and spotted you sitting in the car. Your eyes still wide with shock, looking into the empty space as the horrifying image you'd seen was still haunting you.

One of his men approached him when he saw Chuuya with a serious expression on his face.

"How is (y/n)?"

"Still in shock but they've talked with us. They...they seem to know that you were the one behind the murder. They sounded pretty convinced when they asked us if it was you. How should we proceed now? Normally witnesses have to be-"

He shut up quickly when he was grabbed by his collar and yanked down, going down on his knees with the gloved hand of Chuuya seured around their neck.

"Suggest even once killing my love and I'll see it through that you'll end the same way the pesk from earlier did, understood?"

The man quickly nodded, sweat forming on his forehead as he stared into the brooding storm of emotions behind his superior's grey eyes. The commotion among the other men still standing by the car arouse your attention as you looked up only to spot Chuuya, the sight of him triggering the terrible sight of the deformed body only to re-appear, the vivid memory of the overwhelming scent of blood yet underneath that all a hint of something very familiar. You would recognize the scent of that cologne everywhere, it had after all been the one you'd gifted Chuuya for his birthday. You'd chosen it ourself, deeming it to be the one he'd enjoy the most. That's how you had been able to tell.

“Babe…! Shit! I’m sorry you had to see this, but please believe me! They deserved it!"

Had he done that with his own hands? Could a human being even do something like that to another human being? You weren't sure as that was a question requiring deep thoughts and time, you did notice though that your body instinctively flinched away from him. Betrayal and horror bled through your shocked facial expression as you stared at him, your mind starting to imagine how he might have gone about it, deforming (m/n) the way he did.

"No,no,no, don’t be scared of me. You know I would never harm you.”

"But you'd harm others in such dehumanizing ways." you blurred out before you could stop yourself, still not letting yourself be touched by his hands as you shuffled further away from him. You'd never seen him as conflicted as Chuuya did right now, torn apart on how to proceed right now. You hadn't been supposed to find out, especially not the way you'd done now.

"It-It'll be fine somehow, alright? I'll find a way to fix it."

Your eyes seemed to clear a bit when hearing those words and gave him such a look of disappointment, regret and sadness that he almost had the urge to turn his back on you.

"Fine? Nothing is fine, Chuuya. And it'll never will be again."

Who was he even trying to kid with his words right now?

#yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere chuuya #yandere nakahara chuuya

112 notes · View notes

twistmusings · 1 year

Note

i absolutely adore your writing! can i request jade, leona, malleus, jamil, and trey (just the first four if it's too much :)) with a cheesy s/o or crush? Someone who cracks up at their own puns, and makes really dorky pick up lines (like. really dorky. like, "are you mcdonalds? Because I'm loving it" territory here.) as a friendly joke, but is easily flustered themselves in return? just thought it'd be cute :) hope ur having a good day <33

Thank you! I hope you're having a wonderful day as well!

Some of the TWST boys with a cheesy but easy-to-fluster crush

CW: None, it's all pretty wholesome here! :)

Trey Clover

While Trey himself doesn't make a lot of puns or cheesy jokes, he's more than happy to indulge in a few pranks here and there. They're not the mean sort, thankfully, but it's his own little contribution to the playful nature of their relationship.

He would be lying to say that he wasn't a little impressed with their ability to find new ways to say something that makes him groan at how bad it is.

He'd never really taken their flirting seriously. It was kind of hard to when their idea of flirting was "Oh, you must be the library book I checked out last month because you have 'fine' written all over you." He can't help but to laugh when they say it, but he's never really thought too much about it. Besides, they wouldn't even be the only one of his friends who play-flirts with him even if he did.

He's really, genuinely surprised at how much it seems to fluster them when they're helping him peel apples for a pie and when he says he 'finds them a-peel-ing'. They're unable to speak for several minutes and Trey can't help but to be sort of charmed by it. So they can dish it but they can't take it, huh?

Leona Kingscholar

At first, Leona found their puns insufferable. He couldn't even really look past the fact that they were puns long enough to acknowledge that they were flirting with him, he just sighs loudly in protest everytime they make a pun at him and removes himself from the situation.

They are frighteningly persistent, though. That or they simply genuinely find themself funny, given how much they laugh whenever Leona rolls his eyes at them. It takes him a while, but eventually he stops feeling the need to turn and walk away from them whenever they start making jokes like that. Aside from the jokes, they're really pretty good company otherwise.

Leona doesn't really make many puns, nor does he make many jokes in return. He will pretty rarely, but they rarely seem to land because his idea of a joke is usually just a little mean or threatening. It can be very hard to tell if he's being serious when he says something until he starts smiling.

He starts to notice the pattern after a while-- that they're pretty obviously hitting on him when they make those godawful puns. He privately admires them for it. Not because of the jokes, but because it takes a lot of balls to not only hit on a prince but to hit on Prince Leona. He's well aware of his reputation for being kind of a scheming dick and he really doesn't care, but it's impressive someone so... normal has that kind of bravery in them.

He doesn't acknowledge it for a very, very long time, until one time they whip out the "I'd be lion if I said you weren't cute." He decides to push their boundaries just a little, just to see how they react. He plants an arm over their head against the wall and leans into their space, grinning at them roguishly, and huffs a "Really? Tell me then, herbivore, what do you find so cute. Don't leave out any details." He's never flirted back with them (if this even qualifies as flirting back) so he's a little surprised how quickly they go red in the face and have to scramble to cover their face. Oh? He might just have found his new favorite hobby if he's going to get reactions like this every time.

Jade Leech

Jade is thrilled when he finds someone else who enjoys puns as thoroughly as he does. ("dilly of a pickle" headass.) It's sort of a competition between the two of them to see which of them could make their friends the most exasperated.

Jade is probably the one who picks up on their flirting the fastest (immediately, honestly) and then immediately dishes it right back to them. The "You're a reel catch" has barely left their mouth before he's already snapped back in and instant with "And you must be here to catch me because you're simply a-lure-ing."

He loves the way they immediately clam up on him, and he always ends up grinning at them like the devil while they sputter and get red. Maybe it's a bit sadistic of him, but it's a competition and he's more thank happy to duke it out for title of "best worst flirt".

That being said, they're both absolutely insufferable to the people around them when they do this. Neither they nor Jade know when to quit, and Azul swears between them, Jade, and Floyd he'd going to snap simply from the amount of fish puns in his vicinity.

Jamil Viper

Jamil is definitely not a fan of the puns at first. While he finds them to be a smidge better than Kalim's literal-mindedness, he can't help but to groan and toss an accusatory look at whatever god might be out there whenever they make a pun at him. Exasperation is definitely the name of the game.

Sometimes he really, really wonders why he puts up with it but then he's reminded when they will tell him thank you for even the smallest gestures and just look genuinely happy to see him whenever he stops by even for a couple of minutes. It's... wholesome. At least that's the best word that Jamil could think of to describe it. He feels appreciated, and that far outweighs the suffering their puns cause.

He very quickly notices their puns trend toward flirting with him after the first couple. He's not the sort of person who like to draw attention to himself, though, so he chooses not to bring it up. It's not like he minds, honestly even if the puns kind of suck he appreciates the compliments at any rate.

Eventually one of them snaps him. Specifically it's "Did you just come out of the oven, because you're looking hot." He's had a long day and it's the first thing they say to him and somehow it's so decidedly in their character that he just starts laughing. Genuinely and unrestrained. He would never admit to it, but having them walk right up to him after the hellish day he's had and just make a pun at him kind of felt like a warm hug.

They look a little like they can't decide if they should be worried or proud, so he finally decides he might as well call attention to the common thread he's noticed.

"You know, you sure joke about how good I look a lot. I'm starting to wonder if you've got something you'd like to say to me." Jamil is gratified immediately at how high their voice pitches as they scramble to find something to say back to him but end up unable to make words form. It's sweet, maybe he'll have to bring it up to them later in private, where they can have a proper conversation.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus likes their puns-- actually he finds them to be quite charming... unfortunately for them, his favorite pastime is to pretend he doesn't understand them so that they have to try and explain themself to him. He's well aware of what he's doing, but he does enjoy watching them struggle just a little bit. That's probably mean, but in his defense they're cute when they try to hide their face from him.

He lets them think that he doesn't know that they're hitting on him. He knows. He's quite flattered, actually, though it takes him a long time to warm up to any sort of romantic feelings so he doesn't reciprocate for a while.

When he does, he tries to get them at their own game. And he would have too if only he'd thought it through a little more thoroughly. When he hits them with "Can I have your name or can I just call you 'mine'?" he's really, truly not expecting them to respond and say that Lilia told them they shouldn't 'give' their name to a fae. He ends up laughing because that such an old prank that the fae have played on others that he forgets for the moment that he'd just been foiled in his flirting attempt. He'll circle back to it in a few days once he's had more time to think.

Or, well, he would have, but while they were spending time together they stopped short and said 'Wait.' Then they, rather excitedly, told him they finally grasped what he'd asked them and told him that it was clever and praised him for how good he'd done. Malleus preens, or course, but it's clear that they didn't quite take it the way he'd intended.

He continues to ramp up his attempts to see how long it takes them to catch on. It's kind of a game for him, trying to find clever ways to get them to catch on. Except it doesn't seem to be working. Eventually he gets kind of fed up with it.

"Hey Malleus, looking good. What's your shirt made of, boyfriend material?" "Only if you're the treasure I've been looking for. After all, child of man, you're as dense as gold." Is the exchange that gets it to click for them, and Malleus smiles at them as he watches their expression go from mildly offended to realization to thoroughly embarrassed and unable to meet his eyes. Ah, yes, that's more what he'd been hoping to see. He quietly celebrates his success as they take the time they need to process.

#answered;;#sfw;;#malleus draconia #jade leech #jamil viper #leona kingscholar #trey clover #fluff;;#twisted wonderland #twst

166 notes · View notes