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moonit3 · 7 months

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THE OTHER HUSBAND

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, obsession, death mentions,, gn! reader, violence, reader implied to be depressed, reader has a child, the husband is implied to be a yandere too but show up at the story only mentioned despite being named aspen, your real husband is a bad man, threats, mentioned murder, blood, reader has scars, mentioned fight.

➥ yandere! male beldam x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: feeling trapped in a wedding with a child, a mysterious force manages to make your worsen by befriending your son.

➥ a/n: this took more time than i expected (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) but it’s finally here on halloween days! and it’s quite big this one, maybe more than 1k words? probably. also, this is a Halloween special (yay!), despite not celebrating it, i really enjoy the holidays, so happy Halloween my dear readers!

➥ the idea of marriage was never really appealing to you, it never imagined to get married with a man like your husband, specifically with someone who was the responsible for this arranged marriage. aspen was the one who stolen your freedom when he paged mother and father with a great amount of money, he is the one who stolen your virginity and the one who made sure to make you have his child.

➥ billy, a little boy who resemble your husband, but has the enthusiasm you once had, your son is what many couple envy. a smart cookie, athletic and generous boy like him should have a perfect life, right? not really. you feel awkward to be around him, not bearing to look at his eyes, yet you try to take care of him and father doesn’t seem to care much, only using the little one as a reason why to keep you inside the manor.

➥ the three of you don’t live a perfect life and pretending to be a happy family don’t help either. billy is no fool to realize that you are trying to get a divorce from his father to leave away from here, trying to raise him away from father, but the same doesn’t let you to go. billy began to think about if you leave dad, then you would be happier, right? so he asked the wishing well for his baba to find someone else to be happier, someone who could be a better dad than his biological one. not knowing that someone did hear.

➥ after a few days, in the middle of the night, bill yreach your bedroom (as you refuse to share one with your husband) and woke you up with his tiny hands, saying that he needs to show you something. firstly, you wanted to go back to sleep, but your little boy made you get up and walk towards one of the unused room, where he made you kneel and crawl through a tiny door. you believed that it would lead to another room, but you two ended in the living room, how? and why is the walls like this?

➥ it’s look more alive, more happier and why there is a smell coming from the kitchen? who would be nuts to cook at this later hours? shielding bill, you slowly approach the kitchen, ready to attack the person, but it’s your husband, at least a copy of him. instead of eyes, there are buttons replacing it and a gentle smile in comparison of the usual cold expression.

➥ you wanted to run, take billy to somewhere safe, however the child escaped your hands and went to hug the mysterious man. your little boy looks so happier with this version of your husband, not even flinching when the other husband raise his hand to pat the boy’s head and he notices you.

➥ oh dear, i missed you so much! where you and billy have been in the last few days? aspen, or someone who resembles him, tried to hug you, but you step away. who is this man and why he looks like aspen? this doesn’t make any sense and something inside you is telling to go stay away from this man, but you can’t. not when bill is all over him and trying to make you get closer to his other father, that how bill refer to the mysterious man.

“baba, why you don’t want be around the other father?” the innocence of this boy not knowing where is the danger makes you worry about when he grow older to be able to do his own decisions. “did you two fight?”

the other father is preparing dinner, something the real aspen wouldn’t never do as this as your task most of the times, “well, because i don’t know the other father. i know your father, the real one who is back at our home, not here.”

“b-but this father is nicer and even cook to us! since when aspen made us a meal? never!” ah, yes. billy is on the phrase where he calls his father by name and you can’t even be mad at your son for that. “and the other father knows about my allergies too!”

really? does your son thinks that you change your mind by saying that? he puts his puppy eyes to make you let him stay just a little longer for true dinner with the other father, but you aren’t letting happening.

“after this dinner, we will go home, our home. do you understand me?” the little boy nodded at yours words, knowing is better not to change your mind when you speak the final words, but thee is something off with the smile on his face…what is this boy hiding from you again?

minutes later, the other aspen step inside the dinner room, holding the tray of food that he prepared for the three of you. it’s taste good, you can’t deny about it, and seeing billy interacting with the other aspen makes you heart pounding a little faster. your son never bonded with his father, no matter how hard you tried to make them closer nor the numerous family gathering. but with the other father, billy looks happier and even trying to show the drawing he did earlier today.

billy’s smile didn’t stop growing til the end of the dinner, when after he brushed his teeth and put his dinosaur pajamas. the boy look adorable sleeping on a such comfortable bed with many plushies surrounding his sleeping form. your could just stay looking at him for hours and not worry about nothing. he is your life, the main reason you keep going and try to be happy despite been marrying to a monster like aspen, and speaking about him, the other one seems enthusiastic to talk with you.

“we are finally alone, my dear.” his cold arms hold you to the bed he offered to share with him tonight (and forever) since it would be bad to you sleep in the couch, no husband shouldn’t allow this to happen with his loved one!

“yeah, we have.” you replied, trying your best to pretend this is your real husband, the real aspen that is trying to change, not a carbon copy. “billy told me that you want us to stay here, right?”

his lips curves into a smile, unlike the one he had on the dinner, this one looks more uncomfortable and scary. “i knew it you are a smart girl/boy/person and we both know that we want the best for our son, isn’t that right? from what he told me, your husband haven’t been the best and always yelling at billy for no reason.” he didn’t stop at there. “and he also told me about you. always working, tired and sadness on your face when you try to talk with aspen, asking for a divorce and only receive slaps and scars at your body.”

what?

billy saw that? it can’t be right. you always made sure to put him to bed before talking with aspen alone about a potential divorce, but guess you never knew how good your son is at pretending. that’s mean that billy heard every discussion, every fight, every broken plate and glass during the night or the moments when you cry at your bed, afraid that aspen would come in. it’s makes sense why billy began to sleep at the guest bedroom with you, everything makes sense now.

“what do you want from us?”

“only you, my dear.”

it’s seem that time froze when he answered. everything got silent, your breath being the only sound of the bedroom as you process his words. his hands are on your body, bringing you closer and closer to his chest, not leaving any space to escape form his touch.

“and what if i don’t want to stay here? what if I grab billy and leave this place for good?” you questioned him. “then locking that door to prevent my son to come down here.”

“then i will kill him.” what? he can’t be serious. “it wouldn’t be the first time i take a person’s life to archive my goals and won’t be the last. and if threats don’t work on you, how about i see you to my bed? you won’t be able to leave if i do that.”

its getting colder. your body shiver with a wind that you don’t know where it came from and your can feel his breath behind your neck, making you question what he plans to do next. is he going to hurt you? that doesn’t really matter, you can handle it. but what if he tries to hurt billy? then you don’t know if you can handle to see your little boy hurt.

“don’t hurt billy, please.” you pleaded. “he is the only thing that keeps me alive. please don’t kill him, please! i will stay with you, just let him go, i beg you!”

“oh, dear. it’s cute that you believe that you can request those things from me. billy won’t leave, after all, it would quite lonely to have only you around.” he hold your chin to look up, to look at his buttons eyes. “you would do anything to please me to assure that nothing will happen to him, am i right?”

his nails are making your face bleed, tiny drops of blood ruining the shirt that billy gifted you from christmas, “i-i wont misbehave.” how aren’t you crying form the pain? “i will do anything.”

“i know you will, dear.” he smiled. “from now on, im your real and only husband.”

@moonit3 writings

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crepesuzette2023 · 6 months

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Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

#fic rec #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon fic #asks #fic recs #overall favorites fic recs

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boundinparchment · 10 months

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Undertow

He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine. But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do. Only the finest for their eldest daughter. Besides, you two were friends, after all. Neuvillette/Female Reader; in which the Chief Justice can no longer deny his heart on the day of your wedding. AO3 Story Link

A joyous day.

It should have been, at any rate.

At least for you.

As long as you were happy.

Or so Neuvillette told himself. Duty came first, after all. He had a whole nation to keep from setting itself aflame, be it from Focalors’ whims or the people’s fury. In serving everyone, he was, in fact, serving you.

And in turn, you, too, served the people. Few were so generous with their time and their skills, especially those in your social standing. Fewer still went on to study law, as you had; as heir, you needed to understand property laws and taxes and the words that bound your family to its estate and your place in parliament. Neuvillette would never let it be said that you did not know the meaning of long hours and hard work. Amid the vain and the greedy, you were pragmatic, and not without the wit to prove it.

That was what drew him to you. So many in your position used their wit as sharp daggers to stab others during conversation in a clever, charming way. You flipped the conversation back on perpetrators so often that he wondered why you never pursued certification exams.

“For one, it benefits my station far too much,” you said. “My ambitions are to be able to make life sustainable for all I’m meant to govern. Naive, perhaps. But I think those in my rank need to earn their keep, prove they’re worthy of their legacy. We owe it to the people of Fontaine.”

You were certainly not without a vision, even if you were Unblessed. It was better that way. You didn’t deserve the eyes of the island above on you anymore than they already were.

Neuvillete adjusted his cuffs as he glanced down at the book in his hands. A book you’d given him, annotated with your favorite passages and thoughts. He’d stayed up far too late trying to conceptualize anything other than his legal obligations for the ceremony.

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation. Focalors had rolled her eyes when she caught him getting ready but even she had made herself scarce for once after mumbling to just get it over with. Funny. And here he thought she might be present to laugh in his face and call him a fool.

A fool who took an hour to painstakingly braid his hair in a fashion that mimicked an Oceanid’s tail, as you had once shown him.

He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine.

But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do.

Only the finest for their eldest daughter.

Besides, you two were friends, after all.

You would have settled for far less; or rather, you would have been happier with his presence in another capacity. He knew as much. His estate for the ceremony and party. A speech at dinner. A dance. Your smile had been so forced throughout the entire exchange about an officiant that Neuvillette was certain you might snap right then and there.

And yet you remained rooted. Dedicated.

If only the finest would do, why did they even consider the dolt standing before him to be eligible?

Hardly remarkable in accomplishments. The family coasted on interest earned through their holdings but were not without the occasional cousin who ended up with a debt record as long as one’s forearm. Neuvillette couldn’t even justify an excuse for a pedigree; bloodlines couldn’t, shouldn’t, be about trying to maintain whatever purity they claimed to hold.

No one could make that judgment.

Celestia might try, at any rate.

And the Chief Justice could hardly see your future husband comforting you should such a thing happen, let alone caring for the people. Neuvillette could only stare when the nobleman’s eyes caught his; your fiance looked away first and Neuvillette smiled briefly to himself. No. There would be no comfort in this relationship, no challenge, no ambition.

This man would snuff your flames with his own self-importance.

Neuvillette should have offered his hand instead when you’d told him. You seemed so resolute, so determined, to carry out your duty. And he was so patient that he might as well be a coward. Time would wait for him, not you. Instead, he’d pulled every string he could to find every shred of information for you, for your parents, approved the match with as much grace as a ruling.

Mulled over every file with a glass of brandy, trying to convince himself things would be fine.

Wouldn’t they?

Nearby, a musician began the song you had chosen to walk in with and the gallery rose in unison, like the sea, to watch.

The only thing you’d had control over was the dress, you’d admitted one night after dinner. Repurposed, you’d mentioned; all lace and fashionable lines, practical but elegant in its shape. He couldn’t pull his eyes away and he tried to remember to breathe as you made your way down the aisle. In all his years, he had seen many things, including the stunning shimmers of the previous Hydro Archon, but all of them paled to you.

Likewise, it seemed you couldn’t look anywhere else but straight ahead, Neuvillette realized: most looked towards their future spouse but your gaze was fixed on Neuvillette himself. His grip on the book tightened and he was thankful for the swell of the music to hide the squeak of leather.

You weren’t making the stabbing knife in his chest any easier.

The words came quicker than he liked as he began the usual spiel. Welcoming guests, reciting the names of the parties involved, and starting off with a brief speech on the strength of a union. He could read the passage from the book backwards if you asked him.

As a judge, he was meant to be the impartial interpreter of the law. There was no place for bias, for emotion.

His eyes would give him away to any discerning onlookers. Neuvillette was no stranger to rumors and gossip columns and no doubt someone could already see the questions he couldn’t keep from surfacing. It would be obvious, he realized. He kept looking at you and not the crowd, not the man with eager eyes who held your hand the same way one held a horse bridle: too tight.

Neuvillette cleared his throat and pushed away the anguish. It had no place here.

As the Chief Justice asked you to repeat after him, to recite the vows all Fontaine citizens gave on their wedding day, something inside him cracked. Couldn’t you see this would lead to nothing but misery? Weren’t you worthy of more? If you must marry for duty, then at least commit yourself to someone equally committed…

Your lips, painted to perfection (unnecessarily so, for you were already beautiful without such coloring), opened but silence followed. Neuvillette swallowed. Your eyes left his long enough to stare at the man holding your hand before you thrust your bouquet at him, gathered your skirt, and dashed back up the aisle.

Behind you, the courtroom ignited with all of the shock and drama as a high profile murder case as you threw the doors open and dashed into the lobby and eventually out of sight.

The only trace you’d been there at all was your veil as it floated to the floor silently, forgotten.

A joyous day.

It should have been, at any rate.

And yet you shouldn’t shake the knot in your stomach and the claw clenching around your heart. Sleep eluded you for the better part of the night and your maids tutted, pressing cold spoons to your eyes before you were allowed to eat. Food tasted no better than dirt over the last few months and all anyone saw was how careful you were watching your figure.

How you wished things were different. The ring on your finger felt heavy, clunky; a ball and chain around your ankle would have been easier to manage.

It hadn’t been so burdensome at first, of course. Things took time. Perhaps, eventually, you might enjoy your betrothed’s company for longer than a few hours. The potential was there.

But was it enough?

Your maids fixed your makeup, did your hair, swatted your hand away when you reached for just one sip of water.

They all gushed about your fiance, how handsome and charming he was, how well conversation seemed to flow. Every single one of them forgot that the conversations were nothing more than surface level discussions that made you want to gouge your eyes out with a spoon.

You’d almost begged Neuvillette to forge something, anything, that would make this arrangement null and void. Every meeting since the engagement had been heavily supervised under the guise of protecting the Chief Justice’s reputation and your honor, whatever that implied.

Expectation had been there for years, lingered like a ghost. Not from you but from everyone else who cast their eyes on your station. One rarely, if ever, captured the Chief Justice’s attention, after all. Your family had hoped, as others had, but you were content to simply converse over dinner, at parties, exchange books and philosophies and see the man’s smile reach his silvery eyes. He spoke of opera and art in a way so few of your contemporaries could. You tried to control the flutter of your heart when he locked eyes with you across the courthouse foyer after parliament adjourned and you swore you saw his eyes glow.

He was engaging, enthralling, and it was easy to see why the nation considered him such a celebrity.

But your friendship was more than the attention, than the allure of the Chief Justice and all that he encompassed. Some might not call his rulings fair but he saw all of the trappings that Fontaine itself was guilty of pressing onto all of its inhabitants. When you came up with ideas for proposals, it was him you went to for proper language and legal references, always attempting to stay within his schedule, of course. More often than not, he would continue to prompt you to think the proposal through, consider scale and the impact and the precedent.

Never once did he give you an opinion, naturally. Just a different perspective.

“You can be dazed tomorrow,” your mother said as she snapped her fingers in your face. “Your flowers just arrived and the photographer is insisting on family shots here, at the house.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you were dressed by deft hands. It had been something of a game with your maid to pass time when you felt like trying your dress on; little had you known how the practice would backfire.

Something tugged at your gut and you fought the urge to vomit at the thought of the hands (the wrong hands) that would undo the buttons.

No, you made your choice, you reminded yourself. The guilt would fade. The love would fade.

You were closer to thirty than you cared to admit. What your family took for a phase they realized would be a dangerous precedent for your siblings.

Everything you did was for the betterment of the people, you would argue.

What good was the betterment of the people when you were neglecting your duty to your family, was often the retort thrown back with as much acid as your grandmother’s strong tea.

Family.

Duty.

Honor.

All of it was bullshit if the common people were unhappy and left to fend off wolves from above and below.

You’d never subscribed to these notions and they were content to let it be until it was inconvenient. Rather than let you advise on financial planning, to grow an endowment that could take care of the yearly costs of the estate, you were to be cattle in exchange for financial and political support.

Or you would be cast aside, disowned and dishonored, your position taken from you as if it were a rug underfoot.

And so, you accepted all of it with a smile.

You endured.

Just as you endured the flash of the kamera, the fussing over your flowers and your veil during the carriage ride to the courthouse.

The press were eager, as they always were, for gossip and fashion and for a glimpse of the Chief Justice presiding over the ceremony. They weren’t here for you, not truly. Why, of all things, had your parents insisted he be the officiant?

Wasn’t it enough that you were giving up parts of your life, parts of your soul, for a person who would never appreciate them?

Your feet already ached from your heels. A wave of dizziness slapped you across the face as you entered the lobby and you pushed through it. Music began, the doors opened, and your body moved of its own accord, just as you had practiced the night before.

Neuvillette had declined the rehearsal dinner. The one time you were glad not to see him. If you had, you wouldn’t be here now, you were certain.

You gave a cursory glance to your fiance but your attention whipped back to Neuvillette almost instantly. He’d done his best but you could see the faded dark circles under his silver eyes. How late had he stayed up, you wondered. And how long had that braid taken him?

He’d let you style it once, and only once, in the privacy of his library. Waterfalls of silken fabric couldn’t compare to the beautiful blue and white locks between your fingers. He’d been attentive when you showed him the technique, pausing his case review to do so, but…

An ache from your feet ran up to your heart and sat, heavy with longing; it hurt to breathe.

The music swelled to a close and your father kissed your cheek before he passed you along to your fiance. He smiled and you tried not to be disgusted at the sweaty hand that held yours. You held your flowers in your other hand tighter, glad that the florist had missed a thorn in trimming your flowers.

Before you could blink, Neuvillette was already speaking.

And although he was addressing everyone as he read the passage you read aloud to him on a particularly gloomy evening, his gaze never left yours. The man witnessed and knew of the cruelest things the nation allowed, worked under Honorable Focalors Herself, and yet the expression on his face (such as it was, for he was known for his unreadable countenance) was as if…

It was gone in all but a moment as he cleared his throat and prompted you to recite your vows.

It was the subtle raise of Neuvillette’s eyebrows, the way his eyes widened just enough for emphasis that did you in.

Doubt. Anguish.

Was this what you wanted?

You turned your head, every intention to get the words across your tongue and past your lips in mind, when your voice simply wouldn’t comply. All you could see was a life shackled, compromise after compromise and always made against your favor. Concessions that eventually wore down to wondering why you ever bothered.

Did you want to throttle yourself, your spirit, your drive, for potential that wasn’t even there? When the man you loved would be forever kept out of reach?

If not this, then what did you want?

The answer was literally staring you in the face.

You shoved your flowers into your betrothed’s hands and pulled away, not caring if your dress carried sweat stains as you gathered the skirts and ran as fast as your legs could carry you out the door. Commotion behind you roared to life as you haphazardly made your way through the lobby, down to the entrance, and then dashed to the side garden to avoid the headline-hungry press.

There were few options to hide, all of them easy enough to locate. Your family would drag you back if they found you. Assuming they weren’t bickering and that the wedding was even still on from your fiance’s point of view.

A single drop of rain plopped on your head, sudden and cold. Followed by another. And then there was no sun left in the sky as rain came down in sheets, heavy and frigid. Thunder rumbled through your entire being. You couldn’t stay here. Over the roar of the rain, you could hear your name. You wouldn’t heed.

You were tired of coming when called, of giving your loyalty and love to those who sought to keep you from your happiness. No better than a hunting dog.

Soaked, your hair and dress now destined for the Abyss, you slid off your heels and made your way towards the one place you might be able to wait out the rain in peace.

Over the chatter of the crowd, the rumble of thunder was unmistakable.

Of course it would rain. It wasn’t like he’d done a terrific job of hiding his own bias.

The speed at which you’d run back up the aisle was a feat, given the shoes you wore. No doubt those wouldn’t do you any good in this weather. You were probably cold, overwhelmed…

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Neuvillette’s hand shot out. He grabbed the nobleman’s arm before he could move, already poised to go after you.

“Leave her be. These things happen. It is best for a neutral party to resolve these matters. Wedding planners, family, or friends are usually equipped for these situations,” the Chief Justice said matter of factly.

Fight back, you absolute–

Your betrothed’s arm relaxed in Neuvillette’s grip and it took everything in the Chief Justice not to summon his power and drown him there and then. If there was one person deserving of being reduced to their primal element…

Neuvillette’s voice cut above the crowd as he called for order, requesting that guests remain where they were and that, no doubt, everything would resume shortly. Your parents were already doing a poor attempt at damage control with your supposed-in-laws. Your siblings were casting looks at the door, half-debating if they should go after you; they weren’t like you, not as headstrong, not as independent, and one look from your matriarchal grandmother sent them further into their seats.

He intervened, diffusing arguments with ease, all the while wondering if you were okay. Your parents wanted to use city resources, send out police. For once, your fiance chimed in that such a thing might scare you and you needed help, not to be dragged back kicking and screaming.

“You should go, sir,” the young nobleman said quietly as the bickering picked up again. “You said it yourself: family or friends, and her family doesn’t seem keen to fight for her.”

The man’s smile was shaky but the Chief Justice appreciated the sentiment. At least he had a brain in there somewhere.

“Be sure to keep them from saying too much to the press. Should any ask, Her Honor is also behaving…in her usual fashion.”

Neuvillette was certain his absence wouldn’t go unnoticed and the fact that the press were still clamoring at the front stairs despite the downpour wouldn’t help matters. He paid them no mind as rain pelted him, drenching his robes and suit jacket underneath. The rain did nothing to affect his vision nor his drive to find you; he was unbothered by the chill but you…you always did love curling up right next to a fire and being bundled in winter.

There was one place you might go, he pondered, that few knew about and fewer had access to. Short of you running through the city in your dress (which would not be like you), you had little options to avoid the press but to stay near the courthouse.

He found you as he expected to, under a pavilion tucked away into a quiet garden on the property, wringing out your skirts and pacing, feet bare against the wet stone. You were never still when your mind was lightyears ahead of you, be it from following trains of thought or when you were attempting to force a filibuster. Your thoughts were likely half-way to Inazuma by now and just as tumultuous as the storms he heard so much about.

His breath caught when you jumped as you caught sight of him, eyes wide and anguish carved into your face. Neuvillette stepped under the cover of the pavilion, his robes and braid dripping unceremoniously and you immediately reached to wring his hair out gently, without so much as a second thought.

The Chief Justice took off his gloves as he let you finish before he took your hands in his. He could feel the bump on your finger where you held a pen, the tender spot where your flowers pricked you.

“I can’t do it, Neu,” you choked out, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have to if it’s going to make you unhappy, if you cannot see a future with the person standing at the altar.”

He worked in rulings, evidence, facts; managing Focalors emotional outbursts was a terrible part of his job description but they never teetered into this territory. He was used to fleeting whims and de-escalation.

This? This was a decision that would change the course of your life. Not immediately, of course. But the future was a terrifying, uncertain thing, and you had expectations to contend with.

Expectations that did not involve him.

The pall of fear lifted from your face slowly, the same way morning dew disappeared from the grass. Something else blossomed in its place, like a sweet flower pushing through the cracks in the cobblestone streets, resilient and resolute.

“The thing is, I can. Just not with the man I was about to marry.”

Shooting him would have been less painful. Such an admission should have, as with all things today, been enough to make a heart soar, even manage to turn bitter water into sweet ambrosia. Your lips parted again before he could speak.

“And I understand you feel differently; you’ve never given me reason to believe otherwise and I am not asking for more than what you have to give. I would never do that to you. If I marry the man in there,” you nodded your head in the direction of the courthouse, “it will always be a lie. Maybe I’ll grow to tolerate him but I will never love him. Not like I love you. As I do now, I will spend the rest of my life looking into his eyes, wishing he was you.”

Neuvillette’s hands dropped yours to cup your face of their own accord. Before he could process anything else, he’d tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours as if he was a man deprived of air. You were warm, despite the weather, and he could make out the familiar scent of your perfume amid the fresh flowers in your hair. He felt you relax, curve yourself into him, hands finding purchase on the soaked lapels of his robes.

He broke away, his face hot as he admired your swollen lips. Mixed in with your slight daze was that inquisitive expression he would never tire of, one you often gave to silently encourage him to continue speaking.

“Then no more wishing, mon amour,” he whispered, brushing away the stray tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. “Marry me.”

“Don’t just—”

“I should not have let it get as far as it has. What good is duty if your heart is elsewhere?”

“And where will we go, my Chief Justice? The people of Fontaine and our Archon might enjoy this scandal a little too much…it would be quite a spectacle.”

“Qiaoying Village is nice this time of year. I have an acquaintance in Liyue I can persuade to be a witness. Beyond that…we’ll let the current decide.”

His words shook something in you as you reached up and tugged at his cravat to pull him into another kiss. Longer than the last, smooth and steady like a morning tide, passion dancing like an undertow.

#neuvillette #neuvillette/female reader #neuvillette/reader #chief justice neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #arranged marriage #angst with a happy ending #fluff #romance #love confessions

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART NINE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut

A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!

A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.4k words

One year later

You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.

You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation

And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.

You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.

As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.

The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.

Then, you just focused on yourself.

You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.

You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.

After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.

He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.

You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.

He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.

When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.

Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.

Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.

You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.

And your conversation began.

Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.

You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.

But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.

You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.

You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.

But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.

He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.

From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.

•••

You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.

While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.

That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.

He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.

After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.

You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.

Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.

And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.

The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.

You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.

The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.

Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.

You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.

So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.

You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.

You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.

The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.

Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.

But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.

You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.

And he looked good. Very good.

He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.

You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"

He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"

Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.

"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well

"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first

"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing

"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously

"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going

"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"

You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.

"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"

A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games

"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"

His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.

"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.

"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.

His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.

When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.

You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.

By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.

"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.

_____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier pena #javier peña #joel miller

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Text

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: A flashback into the love life of Sy and “Bug”, and a look toward the future with Wolfie and Pup.

Warnings: mentions of military deployment, p-in-v sex, creampie, emotional moments

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this story.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

The rumble of that old truck coming down the lane had you leaping off the couch to run to the front door. You swung it open, followed by the screen door; your bare feet padding on the old wooden porch warmed from the sun. You saw your man scramble to park before he jumped out and ran across the lawn to you. You threw open your arms as he took the stairs in one step to meet you.

The feeling of his lips against yours was just like the first time. And after he had been gone for the past six months, it felt glorious. Your arms around his neck allowed your hands to slide over his shaved head. You hated when he got rid of his curls before he shipped out, but you understood that it was less fashionable and more functional.

At least he got to keep the beard that you loved so much.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips, and you obliged his entry. He savored every little moan that escaped your mouth, putting on quite the show for his neighbors, who were surely looking out of their windows at this point. They hadn’t heard his truck in months, and now it’s back to annoy them.

When his hands started to wander from your hips to your ass with a healthy squeeze, you knew it was time to bring this show of affection indoors. You broke the kiss and pulled him into his house. He had given you a key shortly before leaving so you could look after the place. You had only been together for less than a year, but you liked where you were headed.

After you are both inside, he pins you against the front door. He’s kissing your neck before pulling away to sniff in the direction of the kitchen. He sighed when he turned around to look back at you.

“I have missed your cooking so much. I’ve missed you so much, Bug. Every night, I wished I could be back here with you so I could hold you close and kiss you goodnight. Every morning, I would wake up with the goal of making it back to you,” he professed, getting down on one knee before taking your left hand in his. “I wanted to wait to do this; I did. But I don’t want to wait anymore. While this ring may have been an impulse buy, I know that yours is the only hand I would ever take in marriage. That is if you’ll have me. What do you say? Will you marry me, Bug?”

He holds up the ring, and your eyes blur from unshed tears. You truly had not expected this, but you couldn’t be happier. Sy was the man of your dreams. He was funny, loving, and protective; you wouldn’t have picked anyone else to spend the rest of your days with. You realized you had been quiet for almost a minute and spoke up.

“Yes! I will marry you, baby,” you gasped, nodding furiously as he put the ring on your finger.

Standing up, he wrapped you in a giant bear hug before picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, so happy to feel his warmth against you again. Once he started toward the bedroom, you knew you weren’t going to be having your meal any time soon. At least, not until after some unfinished business took place.

Sy made love to you, worshipping your body, and leaving hickeys everywhere he could. The man was never subtle in his lust for you. He missed you, and he was going to make sure you knew how much. Rocking his hips into you, he had you right where he wanted you. In between huffs of air and moans of pleasure, Sy kissed every part of you that he could reach.

As he brought you over the edge repeatedly, he talked you through it. Nothing was better than that moment, having him so close as he played your body expertly like he always did. Listening to him grunt as he chased after his release was music to your ears as his hips stuttered soon enough.

Between moaning your name, praising you, and his filthy dirty talk, he had you wrapped around his little finger. Well, technically, he had you wrapped around something substantially bigger…and that’s why your brain short-circuited when he began whispering sweet things in your ear.

“Look how fuckin’ beautiful you look takin’ me so well, Bug. Missed you so much, and couldn’t wait to be with you again. Just like this, watchin’ you fall apart so pretty for me,” he praised, one of his giant hands coming to rest on your tummy while he continued his onslaught. “All I could think of was coming home and starting our little family. Bug, I want you to make me a Daddy. Please, please, please…” he trailed off.

The guttural groan he made as he finished was beastly. And you loved every second of it. What can you say? You were a fan of when men weren’t afraid to be especially vocal in the bedroom, be it moaning or speaking. More often than not, it was Sy’s voice that the neighbors tended to hear when you two were hot and heavy.

You waited until he had come down from his high to ask about what he said. He rolled off of you and laid next to you, opening his arm so you could lay on his chest. This wasn’t the first time he had brought up starting a family. He had the same idea before he deployed for six months. But this time seemed different. He was practically begging you to get pregnant, and you wanted to slow the brakes a bit.

But you can’t always get what you want.

“Sy, can we put a pause on baby talk? You only just got back. I want some time with you before I’m knee-deep in diapers and midnight feedings,” you confided, hoping post-nut clarity would come to him.

“So, before I left, it was because you would be alone. And now, it’s because I’m here with you? Come on, Bug,” he scoffed, running a hand over his buzzcut.

“That’s not fair. It’s not exactly like your body is gonna be the one going through changes. And yes, I am worried that you want to start a family, and we don’t even know when you could be called upon. Then what? I just sit here and wait for you to meet your kid after missing my whole pregnancy?” You supposed, picking your head up from his chest and meeting his eyes.

“You’re right, ya know? I might have to be deployed again. But don’t forget that I’m fighting for my country. That’s not easy either. And I would still be providing for you, Bug. Does that mean nothing?” He countered, leaning on one elbow.

“I appreciate what you do; don’t get me wrong. But I refuse to start a family until I feel comfortable enough to do so. I mean, we got engaged an hour ago, and you’re already planning children. I love you, but this is too much for me right now,” you reasoned, pulling yourself up to a seated position and staring at your ring.

He took your hands in his as he sat up. “I love you too, and I want to start a family with you. That means marrying you and having kids together. I wanted it then, I want it now, and I’ll probably always want it. But if you don’t feel ready, I won’t make you. All I ask is that you think about it,” he implored.

You promised him that you would think about it, and he gave you the space and time that you needed. Two whole days spent in your house, ignoring your phone and your life. Two whole days of thinking about how to make up your mind. You’d never wanted children until you met Sy. He would make a great dad, which wasn’t what you were worried about. You were worried about how much time he would get to be a dad. Or whether he would make it back to you at all.

When you made up your mind, you went over to Sy’s house to talk with him. Very few words were said, but the point was made when you gave him back his ring. As much as you wanted him, you couldn’t be the perfect little Army wife that he wanted, and quite frankly, that he deserved.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, the memory of Sy’s distraught face behind your eyelids. With a heavy heart, you decided to drown yourself in work and forget about love. And it was working so well, at least for a while.

You are awoken by a deep voice calling your name and a hand shaking your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you come face-to-face with a steaming mug of coffee. You sit up fully and accept the mug, looking up to thank who brought it to you.

Sy’s face is neutral as he lets go of the mug. He sips from his cup as he motions for you to let him sit next to you. Neither of you speaks for a minute or two, unsure of what to say. The last time you two shared a bed was pretty eventful, and now it’s the only thing on your mind.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, not knowing what to say.

“Couple hours. Just couldn’t sleep. Went for a run to clear my head, and that worked for about five minutes. Now, all I can think of is the last time you were here. Then, I think of last night and how good it felt to have my arms wrapped around you,” he laments, sipping his coffee before continuing, “Anyway, I figured it would be best if I let that ship sail long ago. But you just had to come back into my life, didn’t you? You don’t make it easy, woman.”

“Technically, if it wasn’t for Liv, I’d still be out of your life. Maybe I should thank her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you,” you admit, looking into your coffee mug.

“Yeah, thank her for me, too,” he laughs, bumping your shoulder with his.

You giggle, looking up into his eyes. “Do you think we can try and be friends? I know last night was fucking strange. And I can’t guarantee it won’t be weird sometimes. But you’re important to me. You always will be,” you confess.

“Of course, we can be friends. I want you in my life, Bug. And if that means that I had to be a damn wolf to get back to you, then I guess I can live with that,” he jokes.

“You’re a handsome wolf if that’s any consolation,” you say, holding in a giggle.

Sy fixes you with the look he used to give you when you were being bratty, and it still works. You can feel the heat rise to your face as you look down and sip your coffee.

“Well, look. It’s just about 10. What do you say we stop procrastinating and get you back to your boyfriend before he comes sniffing around? I’m sure he’s beside himself waiting for you. I know I’d be doing the same,” he insists.

“You’re right. I’ll get changed, and we can head out,” you sigh, feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

Sy nods, taking your mug. He exits the bedroom, pulling the door shut, and you hear his footsteps leading away from the door.

You get dressed quickly, your mind running through different scenarios of how this could all go down. Your anxiety level rises when you think of having your first fight with Walter. Unsure of whether or not you are still upset with him, you push all thoughts away and exit Sy’s bedroom.

Sy notes your solemn expression and pulls you into a hug, whispering into your ear, “Trust me, if anything, he’s gonna be so happy you’re back in his arms that I’m sure he’ll wanna be done with this little fight o’ yours.” Giving you a little squeeze before he lets go, he pats your back, and you appreciate him for trying.

Soon, you and Sy are on the road to the cabin. He drives while you direct him on where to go. The closer you get to the cabin, the more your leg bounces up and down. When Sy reaches a hand to rest on your knee, you stop only to start biting at your thumbnail. He pulls your hand from your mouth and holds it for the rest of the drive.

As Sy pulls into the driveway, the front door swings open. You’re suddenly frozen in your seat until Sy reaches across you to open your door. “Go on, now,” he directs, a sad smile on his face.

You exit the truck, gravel crunching below your feet. Walter jumps off the porch, stopping on the lawn just past the house. You look up at him as you approach, your feet moving faster once you see the hurt puppy look on his face. You throw your arms around his neck, his scent strong in your nostrils. His arms wrap around you, picking you up off your feet.

You don’t see when Walter and Sy exchange a nod. A lot can be said in one simple head tilt.

When Walter places you back on your feet, you both start to talk at the same time. “I’m so sorry, Pup, I-” “Wolfie, I’m sorry-”

Apologies give way to surprised laughter, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Gimme a sec, ok?” Walter asked, stepping past you to walk over to where Sy sat in the truck. You watch as they talk for a minute or two, unable to hear what is said. They shake hands, and Sy smiles at you. Walter walks back to where you stand, kissing your forehead and smiling down at you. Before you can speak, he lifts your arm and ducks his head under it to heft you over his shoulder.

“Ooof, Wolfie!” is all you get out as Walter makes his way back into the cabin. You watch over his shoulder as Sy drives off.

As Walter kicks the front door shut, you hear Jace’s laughter at your predicament, followed by a snort from Olivia.

“Good luck, bestie. Have fun!” Liv chuckles from her seat, cuddled up against Jace.

You’ll have to ask her about that later. Right now, you are being carried upstairs by your boyfriend, who missed you something fierce. Ending up in his bedroom, he plops you down on the bed and jumps you. Leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone and back. All the while whispering how much he missed you.

“I missed you too, Wolfie,” you gasp as he sucks on a particularly sensitive area of your neck.

Putting himself between your legs, he finally kisses your lips. When you moan into his mouth, his clothed sex comes into contact with yours. You feel each other’s body heat, and it’s mere seconds before you are both undressed.

With the thrust of his hips, you feel his apology. With each kiss and nip, you feel how much he cares for you. He brings you to the brink over and over, until you are an emotional mess that clings to him. You’re impossibly close and you wish you could be even closer to him. Wrapping your legs around his waist tighter, you tangle a hand in his hair as he rips one more orgasm from you.

You throw your head back, a long whine exiting your throat as you ride out your high. When you bite down on Walter’s shoulder, his hips falter and he buries himself deep inside you. You can feel every twitch of his length and every spurt that paints your walls. He fills you slowly but surely, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he comes down.

Rubbing his back, you kiss where your teeth barely made a dent in his skin. His tired groan vibrates through your body, and you can’t help but shiver. His softening girth slips from you, and you both gasp. Walter starts to move off of you, but you pull him back, not wanting to lose his warmth.

He chuckles, happy to be your weighted heating blanket. He settles in with his arms around you until you hear soft, grumbling snores. Feeling his breath puff on your neck, you let out a yawn and give in to your own tiredness.

Everything else can wait for now. You are right where you want to be.

To be continued...

A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!

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is-emily-real · 9 months

Text

In Love With The Boy

Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.

No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.

“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.

Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”

“This whole situation with the Munson boy.”

She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.

“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”

“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”

“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”

“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”

He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”

“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”

“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”

“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”

Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”

------

It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.

These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.

He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.

No one had ever made him feel that way before.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked.

He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Where do you see us in the future?”

“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”

Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”

Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”

“What for?”

“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”

“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?” He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another.

He was safe. He was home.

Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

His heart soared. “You mean…”

“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.

They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest.

He never had to let Eddie go again.

The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”

“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”

They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”

One short nod. “I love you.”

The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened.

“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”

“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”

She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”

“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”

“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.

Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”

Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”

“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”

“Obviously false accusations.”

His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”

“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”

“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.”

The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”

“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”

“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”

Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”

“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.

“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”

“Dad!”

“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”

Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded.

“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.

“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.

Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”

He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands.

Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”

Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #isemilyreal on ao3 #they're stupid your honor

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miyaur · 6 months

Text

7 minutes in heaven ⟢ with the hsr men !! (ii)

— synopsis. your friends play a game, and force you to join, and just so happens the bottle lands on you, and you forget you're playing 7 minutes in heaven with them, and the bottle lands on your dear trailblazing friend too.

— a letter from the author. using this layout instead of usual one, just for nostalgic (and lazy) purposes :p, also happy 1.9k followers yaayaaaya

— warnings. eww kissing!!!! also err i guess confessions, character is implying they like you, idk, SPOILERS FOR MAIN QUEST IN HSR IN LUOCHA'S PART

— matchmade in heaven. argenti, & luocha (dr ratio and yanqing next !!)

argenti

i read a little bit on his wiki that he's described as forthright, and forthright implies straightforwardness, honest, direct, and outspoken. so i think while in the confined space you both, he'll get straight to the point about his feelings, maybe a lil blush here n there.

trust me though, when argenti, a literal knight of the knights of beauty, is in love, he's in love. like he means everything he does for you in the best way possible. oh and his love language is definitely words of affirmation, and acts of service.

type of guy to hold your hands and get real close to your face to say all he has to tell you

and you know how it mentions in his story that he's very loyal to the missing aeon of beauty, i know, i just know as soon as he finds the one, he'll stay with them for a long time, even if its just one sided, because he knows that you were the one, even if you didn't think he was for you, he just knows his heart, and his soul (or at least a big part of him) that he belonged to you

kind of similar for the way he feels about the aeon of beauty iykwim. but he definitely is a loyal man, that's all i'll say. ok back to the 7mih stuff

saw the clip of him getting onto the astral ship thingy so i like to think the trailblaze gang made allies with him and like

ok well just go with it, march knows about his lil thingy for you, even if to others (himeko, dan heng, and welt) it seems like he just cares about you a lot, more than others. march just has a sixth sense for love (especially if its mutual pining, which is both of you)

march definitely put a little bit of metal on the bottle and put a little magnet on the floor to the both of you cause that bottle never landed on both of you at the same time sighhh

anyways, like i said, straightforward, and honest confession, just one kiss in that closet though.

actually even if it was only one, if you accepted your confession, expect to receive more later, and in the bedroom.

oh but march is proud, happier than ever

luocha

i have a lot to say about this pretty man, very similar to welt + argenti, experienced dilf, great kisser^3!!

its dan heng + sushang as your matchmakers today!! definitely met you while dan heng was looking for the trailblazing gang, sushang js thought you n luocha were cute tbh

the same as argenti, will love you for an eternity, and will stay loyal even after death and in life now.

why.. how.. who convinced bro to play 7 minutes in heaven with these goofballs (astral gang)

it was sushang and dan heng and march btw!

definitely planned this for it to be on midnight in the last days of december............ corny!! ok but to be fair luocha was pretty set on the plan too, just hoped the bottle would land on you when it landed on him.

first 2 minutes in the closet, silence and awkwardness till he speaks up

the way this man confesses..... SO SWEET MY LITTLE BABY UGH,, not necessarily straight to the point, beats around the bush a little, kind of is just like 'so ive been wanting to tell you something for a bit but idk if i should'

'promise you won't be mad?'

once he actually tells you everything, it's kind of like a word puzzle because he's very poetic, he's been preparing for this moment for more than just a few weeks, credits to sushang

asks to ring his arms around your waist while he's behind you in this dark closet

and then asks if he can kiss you while he does

maybe more than just one kiss was shared in there, but 5 minutes wasn't enough for this poetic man's long ass confession and his plans (to make out w u)

sighh

march and sushang would be jumping like the sheep in my dreams jumping over a fence when the lil smirk on luocha's face when you both get out

lol wait sushang as a sheep

#hsr imagines #hsr scenarios #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #argenti x reader #hsr luocha x reader #hsr luocha #luocha x reader #luocha #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #star rail x reader

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cryptidcorners · 6 months

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Biker!Mike Schmidt x M!Reader Headcanons

Description: Headcanons with your biker boyfriend, Mike!

Media: FNaF!Movie [ AU ]

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Biker!Mike Alternate Universe, Fluff, Headcanons mixed with Drabbles, Protectiveness, Established Relationship, Found Family, Cute Stuff, Semi-Domestic, Romantic, Comfort + Uses Masculine Terms

Warnings: Mentions of (Gang, Vehicle, Physical) Violence, Injury + Kidnapping, Slight FNaF!Movie Spoilers, Depressive Thoughts, Stress, Extreme Nightmares

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

Definitely a show-off, even before you started dating. He wouldn't boast too loudly though, he prefers to smoothly tell you how he got blackeye or some new asset on his bike. He always melts when you're impressed by his feats, even if they were from failure.

Mike's a collector. While cycling or suffering from boredom in his dull jobs, he'd swipe a few things that grab his attention and share it with you. He enjoys making chains for you and Abby. It hasn't been the first time Abby has been dragged out of school for wearing a pin with some questionable language Mike didn't notice.

Absolutely adores helping you dress up to resemble his biker wear. Loves helping you find bracelets, decorative eyeliner and rebellious-printed clothes. It makes me squeal eternally.

Gets intense anxiety in populated areas, mostly due to his trauma with Garrett. He doesn't want to think about anyone taking you or Abby away. He's stupid protective in public spaces. With his already intimidating demeanour, it's safe to say nobody bothers talking to you too much.

He enjoys using pet names, but he jokingly calls you "sir", "bro" or "boytoy" a lot. Speaking of which, Mike adores when you make up titles for him. It's something he treasures a lot. A special name for him? And him only? Makes his heart melt.

Takes you on bike rides at any opportunity. He also loves taking Abby in rides too and doing basic tricks with you watching from the sidelines. He's always careful, he could never forgive himself if either of you got hurt.

One of his favorite things to do is let you touch his hair. Nothing makes him happier than intimate moments like that. He likes it more than cuddling and neck kisses. It's just the simple things in life that appeal to him the most.

Wears the silliest shirts while he isn't at work or roaming the streets. Either quotes involving boyfriends or cartoon merchandise. It amuses all of you, but it genuinely makes him happy to indulge in a separate style. Definitely has a: "Men love me, Fish Fear Me" hat somewhere.

You're always at his aid when he comes back bruised. Like the first bullet, he'd calmly hum you an out of tune, over exaggerating story to make himself look good. Truly, Mike doesn't think he deserves you. So, he refuses to embarrass himself.

Loves kissing. That's all.

"Come on, Mike. I gotta go," you giggled as he pressed featherweighted kisses against your skin. You could feel him smiling before he pulled back with a heated sigh. "Just a minute, please? You know how much I miss you." With a playfully eye roll, you wrap your hands around his sides and hug him as he continued peppering you again while grinning sweetly.

Always referencing something. Either it's from a show or song he likes. He's always dumbfounded when you don't understand and ends up spending thirsty minutes rambling about music history.

Pulls pranks occasionally, mostly with Abby's help. A few prank wars have gone down in your household.

Has at least two tattoos based on you (and Abby), he takes his relationships very seriously.

Cried when Abby called you her "dad" once. This loser is so head over heels for you he'd sob if you were complimented him. It makes his heart throb to see you and his sister connect despite everything.

Very defensive. If anything goes wrong, he's either going to use grade school insults or result to violence. There were a couple of times he couldn't come home due to arrest. He'd come back as if nothing happened.

If you ever got into an argument, Mike would try to give you the most formal apology ever. Either by notes or heavily descriptive speeches about how special you are to him. Most of the time it was pretty cheesy, but you couldn't help but be smitten by his adorable attempts.

Much deeper voice + Slightly Childish. He's still pretty shy when he isn't in his element, so Mike is much more confident with you around. Mostly due to his need to impress you.

So much fist bumping.

Mike's bike is DEFINITELY named after you. Anyone who asks about it is immediately shot with dumps of his adoration if you. Bro will never shut up about his boyfriend. Ever.

Mike has definitely gone through those: "This is for you," and failed immediately. As much as it embarrassed him, he finds it cute how fond you were of it. His face flares up a lot around you.

"God, I'm so sorry I missed it." He frowned, face drenched with numb scarlet. "I didn't mean to make a fool out of you." Mike relaxed once you gripped his leather glove with a smile, "So? I still love you. I think it was sweet how you tried to impress me. I'm proud of you." Mike swore he was starstruck right there.

Loves holding your hand, even in public. It's one of the only forms of affection he's comfortable with displaying.

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #🚲 biker!schmdit #headcanons #writing #writers on tumblr #fnaf #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #if yall want more of him ask!!!#mike schmidt x male reader #michael schmidt x male reader

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venturelovebot · 29 days

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A/N: No one requested this, and this is purely self indulgent. 🫠 I hope nobody minds. I still plan on doing requests! I just wanted to help myself feel better.

Premise: Suicidal!gn!reader x Supportive!Venture. I scrapped the fic because I just didn't like it and went with head canons instead. Made it extra fluffy so if you're having a bad day you can safely read it!

Warning: Low key suicide mentions but no actual suicide.

✦ "Sometimes I just think it would be better off for everyone if I didn't exist at all."

✦ "If I could just erase everyone's memory of me and disappear... I would make everyone's life much easier."

✦ Being low key suicidal would be something you would hide for months into your relationship, and if you're lucky, maybe even a year.

✦ You're very good at pretending everything is alright because you don't want to 'bother anyone more than you already do'. At least, that was your explanation of it.

✦ Obviously, Sloan is devastated.

✦ One day you had finally had enough of pretending to be fine. The meltdown was a massive one– screaming, sobbing, throwing (soft) things across the room. You were thankful they only saw the aftermath of the whole ordeal.

✦ They were rightfully concerned after you were talking about some pretty dark things.

✦ "I'm sure I could be replaced. There's always more people out there to meet, eventually someone will fill the hole that I would leave behind– if I even left one."

✦ "Someone better in every way. Better looking, smarter, more lovable. Someone that is the opposite of me."

✦ They weren't sure what to think at first, as they knew you could be extremely hard on yourself. It wasn't your fault and they certainly weren't about to blame you for something out of your control.

✦ However, when you stopped replying it became a different story entirely.

✦ They found you curled up in a blanket on the couch. You had not eaten, you were barely hydrated, and your face was red and wet from being so upset.

✦ "Please don't take me to the hospital. I don't want to go." You plead with them.

✦ "We're not going anywhere, mi vida. Just talk to me."

✦ You told them everything that was on your mind: how worthless you felt you were, how much of a burden you were to them, how much happier they would be without you.

✦ The look on their face didn't change much. You were afraid you finally said too much.

✦ "That's not true."

✦ Not the response you expected.

✦ "I love you with every fiber of my being. I don't know what a life without you would look like, but I certainly don't want to know. Not now. Not ever."

✦ Their reaction sounded completely out of character to you. You were used to them cracking jokes despite the tension, but now it seems that seriousness was all they were composed of.

✦ They lift up your blanketed body so they could hold you for awhile. If you had any tears left in your tired eyes you'd be crying again right now.

✦ For awhile it's quiet, just the two of you snuggled up on the couch as the minutes ticked by.

✦ They were terrified to leave you alone that night, so you spent it together. Not something you're unfamiliar with, but this time they wouldn't let you out of their sight.

✦ In the morning it was pretty much the same way. This time they got you to eat a little bit of food and drink a glass of water to help you nourish yourself after yesterday's excitement.

✦ And yes, they were happy enough to spoon food into your mouth and crack jokes to see you smile. They had to. The seriousness had began to take a toll on them.

✦ That, and seeing your smile meant everything to them.

✦ When you went to bed for an afternoon nap they decided to call Angela for advice in between checking on you every thirty minutes.

✦ "Well, I'm not a therapist. However, I think you would both benefit from having an emergency plan in case something like this happens again." 🪽

✦ "I know it's a lot of work, but you sound like you genuinely care about [Y/N]." 🪽

✦ "I do." 🪨

✦ "Sometimes the best thing for people who are suffering is to just be there for them and listen to them. Believe me, it can do a world of good." 🪽

✦ "Thank you, Angela." 🪨

✦ "You're quite welcome, and please tell [Y/N] I wish them well!" 🪽

✦ "Can do!" 🪨

✦ In the evening when you feel the sadness return they hold you close and make sure you don't feel alone while you ride out your emotions.

✦ Once you're able to properly think again, the two of you brainstorm ideas related to Angela's advice.

✦ You both decide on a system that was easy enough to remember– they would ask you for a number, and depending on how you felt would determine your answer.

✦ The numbers went one through five: one meaning you felt safe and five meaning you needed support with varying levels of severity in between.

✦ While the goal was to always be a one, they knew that wasn't possible. So instead, they would do the best they could to remain available at all hours of the day so you could call them if needed.

✦ They also visit you a lot more often now. Even though you feel bad for interfering with their work, they just genuinely wanted to spend time with you and make sure you were going to be okay.

✦ Besides, work could wait until tomorrow. They weren't concerned about that at all.

✦ They promised you that no matter what the two of you were going through that you would both be okay in the end.

✦ No matter the amount of tears, no matter the amount of turmoil, no matter the amount of self loathing and insecurity– you were going to be okay, and in turn, so were they.

✦ "How are we feeling, mi corazón?"

✦ No matter what number you chose they were always prepared.

✦ "I think I feel like a one today."

✦ But hearing that you were feeling well for the first time in a long time was enough to bring them to actual tears of joy.

✦ Having to be the one to comfort them and calm them down was certainly a change of pace.

✦ "I'm just happy that you're feeling better." Then they held you as tightly as they could without hurting you.

✦ "I want to be here for all of your ones, too. I love to see you happy, because nothing makes me happier than you. You are my only one."

#fuck it we post #hope i don't regret it #also #really putting the comfort in comfort character for this one #not sure if i really want to tag this #ummmmm #maybe just specific tags #because it is kinda triggering...#and also very cringe #venture x you #venture x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader

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jackhues · 1 year

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(mockingbird au!) fruit punch - platonic!hughes

request: hi! this request was for the au, I was thinking maybe y/n is receiving some hate for dating jack after they go public and since jack is away for a game, quinn is there to help her through it?

requested by: anon : )

notes: hii, i loved this idea, and i'm so sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it!! continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv, @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock ,

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

you smiled to yourself as jack made his way down the stairs.

over the course of your relationship, you’d always known jack to be a pretty happy person. but today, he’d been happier than usual.

you didn’t blame him. so were you.

last night, jack had posted a picture of you on his story during date night, the two of you hard launching your relationship to the public.

jack had wanted to show the world he was taken since he met you — insisting multiple times that you were the one for him — but you’d gotten him to slow down. at least until the two of you were more comfortable together.

you knew jack was famous, especially amongst younger female fans. you had no doubt that going public would put the spotlight on you.

but seeing jack’s smile when you’d told him he can post that picture on his story had been everything to you.

“baby, did you see my toothpaste? the travel pack i keep in the washroom?” jack asked, arriving in the living room.

you folded another shirt, placing it in jack’s bag.

“did you check the washroom?” you asked him, trying not to laugh.

jack blinked, trying to remember.

at his expression, you couldn’t hold in laughter, “maybe you should check the washroom.”

“maybe i should,” he agreed, running to the washroom to search for his toothpaste.

jack was set to leave for his roadie in less than half an hour, and like always, the two of you were packing his bags at the last minute.

jack insisted that it was the only way he could function properly. packing too early made him stressed out. you, on the other hand, needed everything packed at least a week before.

you guys compromised by setting his clothes out a week before, but doing the actual packing last minute.

“got it!” jack grinned, packing his toothpaste. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, helping you up and shouldering his bag. “what would i do without you?”

“you’d probably be buying more toothpaste,” you grinned.

jack laughed, checking his phone at the sound of a notification.

“is it nico?” you asked, referring to his teammate.

“yeah, he’s here to pick me up,” jack confirmed.

he kissed you, before pulling out with a giddy smile. jack leaned forward again, and you had to push him away with a little laugh.

“jack,” you ushered him to the door. “nico’s waiting. you need to go.”

“okay, okay. i’ll call you when i land,” he said, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before rushing out the door.

“bye!”

you smiled to yourself, locking the door behind him and collapsing on the couch.

being with jack had been unlike anything you were used to. the way he managed to make you smile to yourself just by thinking of him, the way he’d become such a big part of your life — you’d never had that kind of relationship before.

you reached for your phone, about to text your friend and ask if she wanted to get brunch with you.

instead, your brows furrowed at the number of notifications on your instagram app. your phone was on dnd, so you hadn’t gotten any of the notifications, but there were a lot.

endless possibilities ran through your brain — from your friends dying to you somehow being added to a million new group chats.

you opened the app, furrowing your brows at the requests in your inbox and profile. people were tagging you in posts, in comments, mentioning you in their stories.

it took less than a minute for you to realize most of them were bashing you for dating jack.

there were people sharing your instagram user (which was found by a nosy fan who’d done some hunting) in jack’s comments. some people had even made fan accounts of you, and the comments were flooded with mean remarks about your body, your face.

you knew you shouldn’t keep scrolling, but you couldn’t stop.

the comments about your nose, your hips — they were the exact things you picked yourself apart over.

hours passed, which you passed scrolling through instagram and twitter, when your phone lit up with a call.

“shit,” you muttered, accidentally pressing the accept button. you placed your phone on your ear, “hey.”

“hey,” quinn greeted on the other end of the line. “okay, i’m at freshco and they’ve got the fruit punch you like. do you want me to get ritz crackers with that or the digestive ones?”

quinn was shopping for when you and jack were going to visit vancouver on a road trip next weekend. he knew of a few of your weird food combinations, but he couldn’t remember which brand of crackers you liked with fruit punch, so he called to make sure.

you were about to answer, when you remembered the instagram comments. a lot of them spoke of your hips, your stomach… maybe fruit punch wasn’t a good idea.

“um… you know what, it’s fine,” you told him. “i’m not really in the mood for juice, you know?”

you could hear the gears turning in quinn’s head.

“y/n?” he asked. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you lied.

“and i’m the tallest sibling,” you could picture quinn’s eye roll perfectly. “what’s going on y/n? you know you can talk to me, right? is it jack? you guys seemed happy on his story yesterday — oh.”

you took a shaky breath, the hurt you felt over those comments finally catching up to you.

“people are really mean,” you muttered, curling up on your side, trying not to cry.

you heard shuffling from quinn’s end of the line, before he sighed, “yeah, i know. but you don’t have to listen to them. you shouldn’t listen to them.”

“but they’re everywhere,” you said. “i open instagram: there’s a million comments. i open twitter: it’s the same thing. i can’t escape them.”

“just because you can’t escape them doesn’t mean you need to listen to them,” quinn insisted. “those people — they’re the ones who’re dreaming of having your life. but they don’t, and they’re jealous of you. they don’t know you, they know absolutely nothing about you. and that makes their opinion of you invalid.”

you sniffled, listening to quinn’s words.

you were still hurting, yes. but having quinn there, reminding you that those who were speaking ill of you didn’t even know you made you feel a little bit better.

“thanks, q,” you told him. “that makes me feel a bit better.”

you could hear quinn’s smile, “good, because i still can’t remember what crackers you like with fruit punch?”

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pixelnrd · 4 months

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obvously river ultimately made his own choices, but april put a lot of pressure on him to conform and join her dad's company and be someone he ultimately wasn't for her own gain (which wasn't necessarily NEGATIVE gain, their family needed to be provided for but still). Now it feels like instead of having learned her lesson from her own road with unhappiness from conforming she's just...doing the same thing to Dustin?? Instead of trying to figure out why he's so unhappy she's just trying to push him to do things because he's interrupting her time with the woman she left his dad for??? at least that's how it feels, idk i'm annoyed with her lol.

I can understnad this interpretation of April as being a bit... selfish? Hypocritical? She definitely is, and from the sentiments in comments about April on recent posts I get the feeling that others feel the same way about April (which is valid! not devaluing that at all).

BUT I want to counter this with a different interpretation (long post sorry!)

For all her faults, April isn't meant to be seen as unfeeling or callous. April is a product of her own upbringing and time period, and if anything she is a victim of changing societal norms in the 70s/80s with second wave feminism. Her parents gave her a great education and expected big things from her with college and a career - she became a doctor. But society also expected her to have the husband and the house and the babies. And she did all that, she played her life by the book as it was laid out to her - and ultimately found that cumulatively, over time in was a burden. It made her burnt out and unhappy. She was expected to uphold her own career, raise the kids, look after the house, have dinner on the table for them all. That's a huge burden to bear, and at a time when men weren't expected to pick up any of the slack to allow women to enter the workforce and become more than homemakers (and let's be real, plenty of men still don't do this in the 21st century). River in that sense did not make it any easier for April - he was playing his own role, one that didn't expect him to share that burden of homemaking and childreading beyond hanging out with the kids on the weekend and doing the odd handy job. He was blind to the burden that April was bearing.

April was also running in the rat race from college, to career, to wife, to mother. She didn't get time to stop and check in with herself on whether she was having a good time. In fact I don't think April could pinpoint when it started to go wrong either. It was the wearing down over time of a person who was expected to do it all and be everything for everyone.

I do feel like everyone comes out in defence for the heir (which, hey, is fair - its their story!). But I've tried to portray all my characters as having flaws and negative traits, making mistakes and not being perfect. River was far from perfect as a husband and Dad. He just slid right on into the breadwinner male role without question because in the era he lived in, that was what husbands did. He grew up in a non-traditional household and was always subconsciously rebelling against that. He grew up poor and got himself to college. He was given a career opportunity that would make him a lot of money and he genuinelly wanted that. He wanted to have material wealth to show for himself after having grown up with no electricity, eating home grown vegetables and wearing thrift clothes. Ultimately he didn't realise the cost of the lifestyle he sought, or why ultimately his parents rejected it - they were happier people, even though they had less.

It's not entirely April's fault that River went down a path that didn't make him happy. Being with April presented opportunities and a lifestyle that River bought into. But as time went on, and they had a house and kids, River became trapped in the cycle of upholding that lifestyle.

River and April were only 20 when they met. They got locked down too young thanks to societal expectations and familial pressures and ultimately they grew up during that marriage into different people. I think the beauty of their separation - even thought hurtful for all involved - was that they were finally able to explore who they really wanted to be.

That's not to say that they didn't learn their lessons. April tries to tolerate Dustin's apathy, but probably finds it hard considering the pressure her parents put on her, and the sacrifices she feels that she made to give him a great upbringing and feeling taken advantage of - after all, she was full time Mum and and a full time doctor.

When writing the character of April, I thought a lot about my own Mum and my Grandmothers and other Mums I have known in my lifetime. And I thought about how they all did double shift, coming home from their paid work to do the unpaid work of being a wife, Mum and homemaker. I wanted April to have her liberation from this system, so that was what I gave her.

I worry that April's character hasn't come across the way I intended, and that makes me feel like I haven't done her justice. If anything that's a lesson to myself in storytelling! But I hope this essay-like response can give others a different way of thinking about April 😊

#asks #answers #april jones

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moonlightdreamzz · 10 months

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THIN APOLOGIES / PART 1

SUMMARY ✰ Mark is your boyfriend, and Vernon is your best friend. You're sick of Mark not treating you right, and Vernon is too. He's also sick of watching from the sidelines when he knows no one can make you happier than him.

PAIRING ✰ Idol!Mark x Idol!Reader x Idol!Vernon

GENRE ✰ ANGST & FLUFF

NOTE ✰ This is actually the first story I ever wrote in my entire life three years ago. It’s my baby. I said to myself, I should rewrite this because the original version was written like the beginner I was at the time. I hope you all enjoy. It’s so good.

Blonde by Frank Ocean has been playing on loop for hours over your speakers. For what seems like days, your gaze has been fixed on the candle blazing in front of you. There are numerous reasons why you can't take your eyes off its flame—the first being that if you do, you'll be forced to see all of the decorations and food you prepared for Mark, who has decided for the third time in a row that you aren't important enough to show up for. All of his favorite things are strewn throughout your living room, unused.

The second reason you can't tear your gaze away from the flame is that you're intrigued. The lavender-scented wax is nearing the end of its life after being used for so long. What happens when there’s none left? Does the flame die peacefully? Or does the jar burn and combust, leaving you regretting not extinguishing the flame sooner?

Sick isn't the word to describe how your boyfriend has made you feel over the past few months. You’ve tried to see the positives of his absence right now, but it’s utterly impossible. What could you say to yourself? At least you got ditched in the comfort of your own home this time, Y/N? And not in a restaurant, or a random parking lot his manager drove you to?

Mark always has his excuses of course. His favorite one to use was that you don’t understand the sacrifices it takes to be an idol. When the two of you first began to have issues, you took those words to heart. You know how much he’s sacrificed to be where he is, and you never wanted him to think you were that girl—the girl who got in a relationship with an idol and acted like she didn’t know what she was signing up for. As time passed, you realized that he was just manipulating you.

He’s so good at it too. Or maybe he’s just an incredibly beautiful man, whose doe eyes could convince anybody that he indeed is a good person—he just doesn’t think sometimes. You just wish he’d understand that you indeed do understand his life, it’s simply his unfulfilled promises that are so incredibly frustrating. Summer Walker once said, “it doesn’t matter how hard I I try, I say it nice, yell it out loud, write it down, I’m tired.” She damn sure was right.

“Why plan a date you can’t come to? Just tell me it’ll be awhile before I’ll see you again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I thought I could make it.”

Your phone begins vibrating on your coffee table infront of you, interrupting the reflecting that you’re tired of doing anyways. You know it’s Mark, back again with whatever his reason is this time for not showing up. For a second, you consider not picking it up. Maybe if he knew what it felt like to be abandoned, he’d stop doing it to you.

You inhale deeply before picking up the phone, surprised at whose name is popping up.

“Vernon?” You whisper to yourself. You feel a brief burst of happiness before immediately shifting to concern due to the time of night.

You and Vernon have been close friends since debut. Some would say it’s because you two are the English speakers of your group, but you only saw that as a plus in your friendship. In reality, Vernon was a quirky, artsy, adorably curious boy, and you always felt this weird urge to…protect him. You figure he was drawn to how you never judged him, and how open you were about what you referred to as “Vernon’s philosophies”. He got your jokes, and you pretended you understood his. The rest is history.

Laughter escapes your throat, scaring you simultaneously as you can’t remember the last time you genuinely found anything funny. In the midst of your giggles, Vernon begins to FaceTime you, and you don’t hesitate to answer the phone.

You can see through the phone how hard he’s trying to be irritated with you, but you also notice how bad he’s failing at doing so. The corner of his pink lips are twitching, and his hooded eyes are melting along with it as neither of you break virtual eye contact with each other. This only makes you laugh even harder. His flawless features don’t hold long, and he’s smirking boyishly now.

“You really think this is funny, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well you know what I think is funny right now? You’re alone right now.” He jokes.

“Ha ha,” You laugh sarcastically, “Am I really this worthless? Like be honest.” You question, a sad smile naturally creeping onto your features as reality attempts to set back in.

Vernon’s eyes roll aggressively, followed by a deep inhale. You know him. He wants to tell you about yourself, and remind you of all the times you promised him you’d have more confidence, just to end up asking him questions like this in the end. It takes him longer than you expected to find kind words to say to you, but you appreciate the fact that he cares enough to spare you, because he wouldn’t do it for anyone else.

“Don’t ever call yourself worthless. He’s the worthless one. If he can’t see how amazing you are,that’s his problem and you shouldn’t just sit here and take it, Y/N. That’s not even like you.”

“But…I love him.”

“Yeah...that always sucks doesn’t it?” He says, almost as if he’s speaking to himself and not you. “I know it’s late, but how about I come keep you company Y/N?. You deserve to be happy for at least a few hours don’t you think?” He chuckles.

He’s no longer looking directly at you. He’s looking at whatever is below him now. Vernon coming to keep you company isn’t a terrible idea. Right now, you so deeply crave to be around someone who actually cares about you, and he’s a clear candidate.

“Yeah! Let me get dressed and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Do really think I’d let you leave your house at this hour to do anything for me?”

“Well, how else are you gonna get here? You don’t have a car and I know your manager is knocked out.”

His boyish smile returns, and you already know a sarcastic comment is closer than around the corner. “You ever heard of uber?”

Now you’re the one rolling your eyes. Was this okay? I mean, the two of you are only friends, but Dispatch nor fans would care about that if they so happened to be stalking you. Him coming over late could turn into a whole situation that you aren’t in the mood to hear about.

“What if you get caught?” You question, although unconsciously do you begin to tidy up in your living room.

“I didn’t.”

He didn’t? Was he already—

Your doorbell ringing interrupts your thoughts.

“Vernon!” You scream through the phone, so many questions running through your mind.

“Are you going to let me in, or are we gonna hangout from outside the door?” He snickers slyly.

You should have known he was up to no good the moment you couldn't identify where he was from his surroundings. All you saw was darkness, but you imagined he was walking around his neighborhood or simply in the dark, because that was so Vernon.

With precision and quickness, you run to the door and open it. You’re still dolled up; face beat like it’s prom night from the date you should’ve been wrapping up by now. Vernon steps in, and for a second it seems like he’s frozen in place. It’s embarrassing, as you often got reactions like this when you dressed up because without an occasion, you were going to choose sweatpants, a graphic tee, and crocs everytime.

“Woah.” He utters.

“What? You just saw me on the phone, Vernon.” You question amusingly before walking to your kitchen to grab him a water.

“Thank you.” He whispers as he takes it out of your hand. “It’s just…you’re so…ugly.”

You know that he thinks you’re going to hit him immediately, so you wait an extra second before punching him lightly in his stomach.

“Shut up!” You laugh, loudly this time. It’s a rare occurrence these days for anything to unconsume your mind of Mark Lee, but Vernon’s doing that with ease right now. “You stay your ass right there and I’ll be back. I should probably take all this off.” You whisper while pointing to you and all your current glory.

“Take your time.” Vernon utters, no funny business in the room now. His smile is gentle as he nudges you towards your room.

You began walking in slow motion down your hallway. “Oh trust me, I will.” It doesn’t take you long to strip down to your natural state. You remove your clothes first, settling on a gray t-shirt you’ve had for years. If you didn’t have company, you’d stop it at that. You decide on some matching gray pajama shorts. The sight of Mark’s clothes in the drawer pisses you off all over again. As you remove your makeup, you can't help but squeal with delight. The wipes that you bought in replacement of the ones that took way too many to clean your face, was worth the investment.

The final touch is your bonnet, which you slip on your head with ease. Your icy feet drag over the hallway floor, a flood of fatigue washing over you.

“Awe.” Vernon coos when you reappear. In the midst of you getting ready for bed, he carefully placed all of the decorations you left out for Mark out of sight in the kitchen. He really wanted to throw it away, but that wasn’t his decision to make. Netflix is waiting for two of you.

“Don’t awe me.” You plop yourself on the couch so hard you’re pretty sure Vernon levitates for a second. You push the button to recline your seat, shutting your eyes right and leaning your head back with a sigh. “Thank you, Vernon.” You say the second you realize he cleaned up your clutter. The room feels less heavy now that you’re not forced to look at your wasted hard work. You feel his gaze on you, but energetically, you can’t interpret why he’s staring at you. You’ll settle on pity.

“Ah, I haven’t done much. Plus, you’ve always been there for me.”

Your comfort turns into guilt, recalling all the times you haven’t been there for your close friend in the midst of you and Mark’s relationship crashing. “Not like this.” You utter.

“Well, no you haven’t surprised me with a big box of donuts and a new video game,” He chuckles, “But you’ve been there for me. A lot of times unknowingly, if I’m being honest. Your presence alone…does a lot for me—I mean, for people.” He rambles. “Plus, I’m one of a kind, anyways.”

A smile creeps onto your features at him teasing you lovingly. You’re beginning to doze off, which typically makes you stare at things unintentionally. Your target tonight is Vernon, who is sitting extremely close to you right now. Your hand begins to entangle themselves in his locs, causing his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“Enough about me.” You protest softly, “What’s going on in the life of Hansol, hm?”

“Nothing much,” He whispers, enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his scalp. His eyes are stuck on the ceiling, but you know he’s still listening to you. “I’m like a robot these days. I wake up, go to practice, go back to the dorm, sleep, repeat.”

“Why didn’t eat make the list?”

“Oh yeah, that too. But you know me. If I have to pick between sleeping and eating, I’m picking the first option.”

“Oh I know.” You can’t count on one hand the amount of times you scolded Vernon for sleeping too much, even though you do the same thing the second you get a break from schedules.

“Too much of a good thing, is a bad thing, Vernon.”

“Not everything.” He whispers, seemingly dazed out now. You’re ceiling wasn’t that interesting. He has something on his mind, but you’re not sure if you want to pick his brain. If he wanted you to know what’s on his mind, he’d say it. At the same time, you’re his right hand woman, and he’ll just have to deal with you being in his business.

Your eyebrows raise in an interrogative fashion. “Give me an example?”

“You.” He says simply. His eyes lock themselves into yours confidently, but you’re unsure how to feel. What was he trying to say? Is he flirting? Is he just being kind? It’s always been so hard for you to understand him when he gets like this.

“What about me?” Is all you can manage. You’re not sure why you’re nervous now, but you are. You hope you’re not making it obvious that his comment has made your breathing unsteady.

“I’m just saying it’s impossible to get tired of you. ‘Too much’ of you,” he air quotes, “would make the world a much better place.”

“You think so?” You question genuinely. “Mark doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Mark is a fucking idiot.” He spits out.

“I’m not gonna disagree.”

“I mean look at everything you did for him today, just for him to not show up?” Vernon begins to frantically point in all directions of your home, including at yourself as well as your kitchen. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t come home to this?”

Silence is the only thing you can provide right now. One because he’s right, but two, because you’ve never seen Vernon so riled up on your behalf. He was the one always talking you off cliffs, not the other way around.

“Sorry,” He clears his throat. His voice is back to his regular tone now.

“Don’t be. Thank you for caring about me.”

You don’t know why, but you feel a desire to nuzzle into Vernon’s shoulder, so you do. Naturally, he wraps his arm around your shoulder to allow you more comfortability. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t feel wrong being in his arms right now. You know if you consider Mark, you should pull away, but when’s the last time Mark considered you?

“Is this okay?” He questions, his tone a mixture of hope and concern as he’s likely reading your mind right now. He had a knick for that when it came to you.

“It’s okay.” You decide. I mean, who’s going to catch you?

The two of you lay like that for the remainder of the night, watching a movie that Vernon puts on, but you can't concentrate. All you can think of is how you're lying in the arms of another man, your heart fluttering. That isn't supposed to happen. However, your thoughts are brief because you quickly find yourself dozing off in his arms that feel as if they never want to let you go.

It’s the wee hours of the morning when your phone rings, and then vibrates, indicating someone has called and texted you.

You and Vernon sleep through it.

TO BE CONTINUED

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angstysebfan · 1 year

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You Matter To Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: This is based on the song “You Matter To Me” from Waitress the Musical. It’s not a replica of what happens in the play, but the words in the song. Song lyrics are in italics. Warnings: Slight Angst, Sad Lonely Reader, Fluff

A/N: I’ve wanted to rewrite this fic for awhile. The story is the same, but I didn’t like how I did it the first time. I hope you all enjoy it even more than before. Please know that my stories were no beta’d or edited, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes or misspellings. Also please note again I am rewriting most if not all of my masterlist, so if you read my stories, be prepared cause most of them are going to be fixed if they haven’t already lol.

I can find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes They see things you never quite say, but I hear Come out of hiding, I’m right here beside you and I’ll stay there as long as you let me

You’re in your living room of your small one bedroom apartment, slow dancing with him. He holds you close and sings softly into your ear as you release a sigh of contentment. You never in a million years thought that you could ever find the happiness you’re currently engulfed in. People assume that being the only child of the rich and famous (your dads name), your life is set and happiness is a given. You know for a fact that it's not true, as you purposely ran away from the "rich kid" life the moment you were able to.

Your parents always treated more like a burden then their child. You were practically raised by nannies because they didn't want to give up the partying lifestyle. They never once celebrated the day you were born, always going out with friends on trips or something instead. When they were home, you were never allowed to make any noise or be a normal kid because they considered that a disturbance.

As you got older, you started to resent your life. Any "friends" you made didn't really care about you at all. They wanted to be seen with the daughter of the famous Y/F/N, the richest man in the country. They knew if the paparazzi saw them with you, they would be on Page Six and be set. You never wanted to be the center of attention. It never interested you, but you also didn't want to be used. You found yourself feeling very lonely all the time, even in a crowded room.

Eventually, when you were old enough, you ran away from that life. You wanted as much separation as possible. Your parents wouldn't care anyway, so you didn't move far. You found yourself in the middle of Brooklyn working as a waitress as a small diner. It didn't pay much, but it helped you afford your tiny shoebox apartment that you loved and food. You felt like you were finally free and happy. You started going out more, and even made some real friends who liked you for your personality, rather your wealth, since you no longer had any.

Once night you were out with some friends and were sitting at a bar. Nursing your cranberry vodka, you kept thinking how much your life has improved, and how much happier you were without your parents money. You suddenly saw someone sit next to you and you looked over with a smile. You would lie if you said he wasn't the most handsome man you have ever seen. He had short brown hair, the bluest eyes imaginable, and a strong jawline partially hidden under some scruff. When he looked at you and smiled, your heart immediately fluttered.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You found yourself falling into easy conversation with the handsome man, whose name was Bucky. You learned he was a mechanic who lived in the same neighborhood as you, and that he grew up in Brooklyn to middle class parents and knew the value of hard work. It was refreshing to say the least. Listening to how his parents supported him and his siblings with their aspirations and dreams, no matter what they were. You were jealous, because your parents couldn't give a damn about you. Hell they never even tried to find you when you left. Bucky tried to ask about your life, but you weren't ready to hash that out, so you just quickly changed the subject. He smiled and decided to go with it.

You and Bucky start to hangout more often and you find yourself falling... hard. He would take you on little dates around Brooklyn, and you both would stay out late just talking about things. You wanted to tell him about your past, but you were scared it would scare him away. When he wanted to treat you to a fancy restaurant in Manhattan that you know your parents frequent, you immediately decline. You felt it was time to finally tell him the truth about yourself. Bucky sat with you, holding your hand as you told him all about your upbringing and your thoughts and feelings about your parents. You were in awe when you were done he pulled you to him and kissed you.

"I can't imagine how hard that much have been for you," he said with no sarcasm.

You then and there that he actually cared about you and your feelings. He didn't think you were some spoiled brat that didn't get enough attention. He knew money was not important to you, and that all you've ever longed for was to be loved. He wanted to be the one to show you the love you've always deserved, and hopefully you can let him in. And maybe love him just as much in return.

It’s addictive the minute you let yourself think The things that I say, just might matter to someone, All of this time I’ve been keeping my mind on the running away For the first time I think I’d consider the stay.

At first you were worried when Bucky asked you to move in with him. Yes, you had been dating for over a year, and yes you cared for him with ever fiber of your being, but you still had hesitations when he said it back. You kept telling yourself he really loved you and to let him in, but it was harder to do than you realized. Bucky was always patient and understanding. He allowed you to take your time and really think about it with no pressure. But you wanted to let him in so bad. He's been so good to you, so you finally agree to move in.

It took some time for you to get used to Bucky constantly wanting to take care of you. You've always taken care of yourself, so to have him wanting to do that was surprising. He constantly tells you how much you mean to him, but you still find it hard to believe sometimes. He buys you flowers every week, takes you on small romantic trips, and cooks you dinners. Your walls slowly start crumbling little by little as you let him in, because you know you are as much in love with him, as he seems to be with you. Every day when you come home from work, he asks about your day, and generally cares. He pays attention to every word you say, he laughs at jokes you make, gets irritated when hearing about stupid customers, or holds you as you cry after a hard frustrating day. He's there every time you need him, and even when you don’t.

You are there for him just as much, knowing that a true relationship means you both have to give the same amount. As time goes on, your walls around your heart are gone, and you've completely given your heart to Bucky. He and his family have welcomed you with open arms, and you never felt as loved and accepted as you do with him. When he dropped to one knee to ask you to be his wife, you didn't hesitate for a second before saying yes, because there was no other answer.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You look up at your fiancee and smile before giving him a soft kiss. You then look at the small diamond on your finger with so much happiness. Bucky apologized it wasn't bigger, but you told him, and you meant it, that you wouldn't want anything more than what he has given you. Your life is perfect as long as you have him, and are in his arms. Bucky was everything you didn’t know you needed in your life.

For the first time, you feel loved and cherished. You feel like you finally matter to someone. Not just someone, Bucky Barnes, the man you love and are going to spend the rest of your life with.

Bucky is so fucking amazing in this story. I love him so much! Feedback is appreciated! Also if you wish to be apart of my new taglist, please let me know.

Permanent Taglist: @rebekahdawkins @marajade1974 @missvelvetsstuff @phillygirl77 @pattiemac1 @winterslove1917 @vampire7595

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky angst #bucky and reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #slight angst #fluff #you matter to me

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fallloverfic · 1 month

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Me: I read/watch Delicious in Dungeon for The Plot The Plot (spoilers for S01E16: Cleaners/Dried with Sweet Sake and the manga, Chapter 31: Sea Serpent, Part 1):

Never escaping from the crotch indeed lakjdladj

I also really love this fond look Marcille has for Laios and his excitement/him appreciating her genius/making use of the dungeon/whatever. It's really sweet. Chilchuck is tired and doesn't like being nearly drowned in a wall by a handsy elf.

Laios is so adorable when he's happy like this. Poor Senshi lol

Finally we get the first true Labru episode, my beloved.

Just shocked to see this mess of an adventurer. Kabru thoughts: Oh no he's hot. (yes I know he's not the one talking here, it just looks funny)

Kabru is so good-looking this episode, I took so many screencaps of him. He just looks so amazing in the anime. I love it.

Putting on smooth talker mode. Love him. Gotta flirt with the blonde tall-man for intel. I blame this whole arc for making me think Kabru is short; he's not short, Laios is just taller lol (Laios is 6'1"/185 cm tall, Kabru is 5'7"/170 cm tall). Or at least Kabru is still fitting the tall-man name and a lot taller than most other races, like the elves, just not as much as Laios is. (And for the curious: Toshiro is 5'11"/180 cm tall, so even he's shorter than Laios). I think between Toshiro, Laios, and Inutade (a 6'5"/195 cm ogre), I just had a weird impression of Kabru's height. (All heights from Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible)

Kabru being dangerous and also cute still. I just... I have too many screencaps of him alkdjalj Beautiful man.

Toshiro is a saint for tolerating this man. But they are cute together.

Kabru and Laios kill me T-T I wanted to fic for them ever since Kabru first showed up in the manga cause he was really cute and I wanted more of him and he seemed fucky enough that he would be fun to fic for, especially with the sort of enemies to lovers vibes of his party chasing Laios' party for revenge.

And then there's this chapter cover lol (this is actually two episodes ago story-wise, but it feels more relevant here):

And I was screaming in joy XD Particularly after we got to Kabru's obsession/curiosity about Laios in particular. I was putting off ficcing for them in case they actually met and yup, they did lol I still have a lot of ideas for fics for them. Maybe someday.

This man is having the time of his life with this nonsense and I love it roflmao He was like "they're either evil masterminds or stupid" and it's kind of the latter and mostly just "they're weird and it's funny" lol

I know he's faking so hard but it's still cute lol (Especially cause Laios offered to treat him to a meal, like hello, Labru date????) One thing I love about them as a pairing is their weirdness interacts in fun ways and it is hilarious.

This man is here for this absolute train wreck and I could not be happier for him. And them. Look at that little blush. Bless him.

Truly a phenomenal episode. It's also interesting seeing how... disrespectful, shall we say, to be polite, just about every character is to each other. You've got Chilchuck insulting Marcille for getting incapacitated, Marcille shoving Chilchuck into a wall to nearly drown without explanation, Toshiro's retainers - particularly Maizuru - being patronizing to all the non-tall-men (and any outsiders, really, considering at least what Maizuru thinks of Falin), Laios being... disrespectful to Toshiro with his name, and Kabru lying his ass off to get the deets on what the heck is going on and essentially being the human embodiment of -grabs popcorn-. It's a lot of really interesting character, social, and political dynamics. Everyone's a mess and I love it. I'm late cause of various nonsense with me misreading something and thinking they skipped a week and being busy but ahhhh such delicious food to catch up on. So good.

Other delicious Plot:

The Plot in Episode 3

The Plot in Episode 7

The Plot in Episode 9

The Plot in Episode 11

The Plot in Episode 13

The Plot in Episode 14

The Plot in Episode 15

The Plot in Episode 16 (you are here)

The Plot in Episode 17

The Plot in Episode 18

The Plot in Episode 20

The Plot in Episode 21

#ダンジョン飯 #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #fallfthoughts #laios touden #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #toshiro nakamoto #labru #kabru of utaya #such a good episode #maizuru #like people get mad at the elves when this episode happened and it's like folks what were you reading lol #maizuru won't even dignify senshi with a name #and laios and chilchuck won't correct laios' fuckup with toshiro #the social dynamics of dungeon meshi are really good

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