#look what you've done to me Charlotte. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aliceramblez · 8 months

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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader

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icallhimjoey · 5 days

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Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

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I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x Y/N #joseph quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #rpf #i'll let the sun decide

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tokoyamisstuff · 1 month

Text

Fragments Pt. 3/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Summary: Before he'd be able to meet you again, Homelander has a realization.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Let's be fr he would not fucking say that, but let's pretend he's self-aware. Not proofread and pretty messy.

“I care not for his sanity. I care for his happiness. I care for his soul. Let him be mad if mad is what he needs.” - Queen Charlotte (Bridgerton)

Homelander fit seamlessly into his old life - or rather role.

There wasn't any time to process what had happened, since a throughoutly investigation was quickly followed by bland boring routine again.

Vought almost immediately released a statement concerning Homelanders abscence, something about a secret mission that required him to be undercover. They're even planning to make a movie about this fake bullshit already, unbelievable.

The physical examination that followed was the worst part, at least if you asked him. He loathed hospitals for obvious reasons, their bright white enterior reminding him just a tad bit too much of the Bad Room. Yet in the end they were unable to find any residue of the drug, poison or whatever depowered him in his system.

And while yes, the threat of an unknown enemy having the basis to one day potentially render all supes human again sure was concerning - but the fact that the short time Homelander spent without his powers was the happiest he's ever been left a bitter aftertaste.

You on the other hand had been released after a brief interrogation and background-check. Even now they still worried you might leak top-secret information to the public, but they feared Homelander's fury even more - and he made it absolutely clear that anyone daring to lay just a finger on you would meet a terrifying end.

Both of you had never spoken a word about what else happened between you back in the arctic, but that was none of their business either way.

After all, you were no one.

Your whole existence was insignificant compared to his greatness, there's no way you could ever become a threat to him. Simply live your measly little life and stay out of his one...

...easier said than done when you've practically ingrained yourself into his heart, still consuming his every waking moment.

For the people at Vought somehow a quiet Homelander was even more unsettling than his usual, duplicitous benignity.

They are used to randomly fall victim to his whims, constantly being on edge around him. Basically anything could happen at any time, to anyone and without even so much as a warning.

But as of late...

"Homelander?" Maeve was the only one bold enough to wave in front of his face, making him break the reminiscing. "You there?"

"Hmm?" The man looked around, seeing all eyes on him - business as usual. Ashley was standing in front of the Seven, yet whatever she was babbling about went on deaf ears with her superior.

It was like this ever since his return, this nagging feeling as if he was only physically present. He heard people talk and go about their day but everything was so far away...most of the time he just dozed off into the distance, eyes staring right through until he lost focus of his surroundings.

One corner of his mouth begins to twitch, feeling even more irritated by those oppressing trifles than ever before. He takes a moment to collect himself, hands folded neatly on the table. "Do what you want, I couldn't care less" was his firm answer, even though he didn't know the question - or if he was even asked one. "Excuse me."

"The fuck is his deal lately?" A-Train dared adressing the elephant in the room, albeit still being in super-hearing range, pointing over his shoulder to the door their leader had just rushed out of.

The Deep shrugged, tension leaving his shoulders now that Homelander's overwhelming presence was gone. "Beats me. Let's just hope it stays this way for a while."

He would make a quick getaway, his firm, aggravated steps audible before the man itself came into one's field of view. Anyone who had the misfortune to run into him in this state lowered their heads in hope they wouldn't meet an untimely end just for him to let off some steam.

There's a stench of fear lingering in the air, in every corner of this damn building.

"Vermin" he clenched his jaw as he turned around the corner, slamming the door to his penthouse with so much force that the frame breaks. "Every single one of them."

Ordinary humans were so pathetic-fucking weak, and yet they dictated simply everything. It shouldn't be this way! They should worship the ground he walked - or floated - on, build monuments in his name, but instead what?!

The masses idolized him of course, but that fact came at the extend of his own dignity. He had to perform in order to put on this perfect disguise, always smile and say his lines like a damn puppet...with Vought pulling all of the strings.

Was that really the only thing he was good for? So many abilities, all this potential and yet there he was, doing nothing substantial.

Right now he had everything: The greatest power in the world, wealth he could never fully spent even if he tried and influence beyond one's imagination - and yet he felt as empty as never before.

What a fucking joke.

Employees at Vought knew about his true wicked nature, so he had to rely on fear to control them. It was all he ever knew and felt comfortable with, after all...

...until you came along and willingly chose him. You had peeked into a part of himself he swore to never let anyone too close to - and embraced it. Saw him at his lowest, hell, even got hurt in the process and chose to stay at his side nevertheless.

Even though you missed the whole picture among fragments of himself, he was sure you'd be the only one worthy to know his story.

What he had with you may have been make-believe, but still way realer than anything about his corrupted existence.

Was his heart really nothing but a bottomless pit that could never stop aching?

Homelander's suit had always been like a metaphorical armor - functioning against inconsensual touches of fans as well as sort of a disguise, so people would always only see the hero and never the broken shell of a man beneath it.

But now it felt as if the fabric was burning into his skin, eating away what's left of him. Feeling as if suffocating, he curses beneath heavy breaths as he tossed it away.

It wasn't even the same suit you had repaired for him back then - and right now he painfully regretted having Ashley get rid of it.

There was still the oversized shirt he had worn when he left you, though your scent was only faintly lingering now, even to his keen nose. Well hidden under his pillow to lull him to sleep, he now puts it on as he feverishly tried to imagine the sensation of your warm embrace encoating him like a safety west.

That night, he was woken by an eerie realistic dream. No nightmare for a change, no - and yet it was leaving him just as exasperated.

A memory, about that one time you had convinced him to travel to that small village near your ecological research station. Apparently a bunch of savages were holding a festival to celebrate the returning of daylight, and opposite to his expectations it was actually quite enjoyable - mostly thanks to your presence, of course.

He could still hear echoes of your laughter spinning in his head, goosebumps rising where you had touched him as you danced in the cold streets. Snowflakes were entangled in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly as you took his hands, trying to steady yourself on the ice. Your breath was visible as white mist, holding onto him for dear life.

Just when he had mustered up the courage to bend down to your height, maybe steal a kiss or two, even if it was only at the crown of your head, both of you lost balance and fell right on your asses.

Homelander heard his own boisterous laughter mixing with yours, remembered how absolutely flabbergasted he was when you suddenly tackle hugged and started kissing him senseless.

"Shit. Shit!"

"Yeah, sure is." Oh for fuck's sake, not this again. But the voices kept returning, it's not like he had a say in the matter of his own mental illness. He never really has a say in anything, not even regarding his own life. "What are you so upset about?"

Well, it's not like he'd be able to fall back asleep anytime soon either way, so he followed the sound of his own voice back to the great mirror across the room.

"You're new" he states the obvious, seeing a reflection that doesn't resemble his current state at all. The man in the mirror was unkempt, with a scruffy beard and greyed strands standing out from his blonde scalp...

...and yet he seemed as happy as Homelander could only hope to one day comprehend. "Did we really look this shitty back in the Arctic?"

"Well, there's not exactly a stylist in the middle of nowhere" his counterpart shrugged, smugly adding "And Y/N liked it."

Homelander exaggeratedly rolled with his eyes, but the verbal jab had hit his weak spot. "You're just a farce, a cheap excuse of me, the real deal!"

"Nope" his amnesic alter ego scoffed at the insult, his smile never faltering. "I'm everything you always wished to be! What you could still become" he adds, his remark yet another fatal blow to Homelander's fragile ego. "You've got all the means to find her, so what's holding you back?"

"Because this is beneath me!" he roars so loudly, it's good that his apartment is big enough that no one could eavesdrop. "Why the fuck would I miss playing house with some nobody?"

However John is not accepting this bullshit for an answer, waving a scolding index finger. "Nah-ah, the real reason. Say. It."

With more force than necessary, Homelander scatters the mirror - would be too easy if that'd make them shut up, though.

"You know we don't just disappear." Several copies of himself are now talking, a medley of misery from each shard, reopening gaping wounds that never had the chance to heal.

"You think Y/N was just nice out of basic human decency. You think the kiss and everything else only happened because of the isolation before you came to that doorstep."

"You're afraid you won't live up to the John Y/N met. The ideal version of yourself that doesn't exist."

"That Y/N will find out what a freak you really are and runs away scared and disgusted, just like they all do eventually."

"You'll get bored of this at some point. Why bother?"

"Y/N will break under the pressure of this burden. It'd be selfish to do this. You can't expect this from anybody."

"Maybe you're even afraid of her coming in harms way because you know exactly what you're capable of."

"You already managed to destroy her life even without being your true self, just imagine what could happen. Stay away, at least for Y/N's sake."

"This whole farce just weakened you, and will continue to do so. We should just get rid of-"

"Shut. Up!" Homelander warns the last one, menacingly calm. "Don't you dare implying I could ever hurt Y/N. I-I'd rather fly myself into the fucking sun!"

"Oh boo-hoo. Someone gives you breadcrumbs of affection and you wag your tail like a dog in heat" the more depraved materialization of himself mocks, "Fucking pathetic, as always. Did you forget that people only exist for our fickle amusement?!"

"Don't listen to them, John." The only shard still attached to the wall was what he'd like to believe is his good aspects. "Listen to me: This is the one and only chance to get what you've always craved for - a real, loving home. Try it, at least. Remember Y/N's words - you deserve happiness."

There was no use in trying to catch up with sleeping. In fact it took all of his patience to wait the few hours until sunrise to wait for this confrontation...

...not with you, however.

Of course Madelyn would come to work this early. Typical. But Homelander was already expecting her - not waiting in front of her door to avoid seeming desperate, but a safe distance away, his glare seeping through the walls.

As soon as she appeared at the tower, he let himself into her office like so many times before. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee, and at the sight of him adds some liquor to it. Hard to believe she was bothered because of something important. "This early? Seriously?"

"You know what's funny?" he didn't really acknowledge her question as he jumped onto the sofa, picking up a decorative snow globe to fidget with. "I thought the enemy had somehow deactivated my transponder...but a quick visit at the tech department later, I found out it worked just fine. This whole time."

Madelyn quirked a brow at the hero, tentatively leaning forwards over her desk. Showing some cleavage usually never failed to soothe his nerves, but not today. "If you want to imply that we're the ones behind all this, I can assure you tha-"

"No" he raised a warning hand, softly shaking the snow globe before putting it down again. "Nonono, I'm sure if you had the means to threaten me, you would've long since done it by now."

Homelander then leapt to his feet, strolling through the room filled with countless photographs of himself - but right now, it was like looking at a person he doesn't recognize anymore.

"Here's another interesting thing I found out: Not even a full week after my disappearance, you made the pathetic attempt to replace me with Black Noir. It wasn't until the public and your sponsors demanded answers to my whereabouts that you gave in and started actively searching for me. Isn't that correct?"

Checkpoint.

"Hey, I've been gone so long, I need to make up for all our missed conversations, don't I?" he huffed bitterly, viewing a snapshot of him and her without being able to feel anything but nauseous. "I've lived among...inferior people for the first time in my life. No fans, no people of Vought, just...Y/N and I. Living the life I only ever knew from textbooks or scripts. And it made me have a realization, wanna hear?"

The vice president closed her eyes in negative anticipation, taking in a deep breath but not being able to bring out a single word before being interjected again. Homelander knew her ways of manipulation and the effect he could have on her if he let her talk too much.

This time it was his turn, and he'd be heard.

The woman in front of of him crosses her arms in defense, giving an approving hum as she knew denying him was never an option.

"Let me tell you my theory first, you're gonna love this: So a boy of sixteen years is finally released from the laboratory he was raised in. Despite all the horrible things he had to endure there, he wanted to use his powers for good, so no one has to suffer like he did. He knows nothing about the real world, let alone care about profit or any of that bullshit. And then he meets this aspiring woman who sees her chance to be influental through him. Can you follow me until now?"

She nods and nothing more, her expression unreadable. "Good, very good. So the boy is now kept around the most rotten, selfish and greedy people on the planet. He was never inheritly evil, he simply adapted to his environment, as clueless as he was thinking this is how the world operates. And at the time any of you realized you had created a monster it was too late. You regretted it - but not out of moral concerns, no. Simply because you knew you couldn't possibly control him forever."

The silence was so loud that it was deafening, automatically answering everything.

"Even if that person was your most valuable asset, your figurehead, you'd be damned if you didn't use the lucky coincidence of him disappearing, no questions asked. Right? Right?!"

Madelyn Stillwell was a lot, but not a liar - at least not in the easy definition. She knew how to twist words, to withheld information just enough to get through with whatever she wanted. But she'd never lie so openly, so blatantly. Especially if it served no purpose, like right now that there was no use anyway. "We'd be damned if we didn't."

"So then why do you keep acting like any of this is right?" He looks deep into her, quite literally for his abilities wouldn't tolerate deceit. "Look, we've located you and the dot was moving. We knew you were alive. I do care about you, Jo-"

"Don't call me by that name. You don't deserve it." His jaw tightens into an almost-snarl, slapping Stillwell's hand away at her disgusting attempt to distract him through seduction. "Don't you dare touching me, and don't fucking lie to me again! Ive been lied to all my life...I'm so, so sick of this shit!"

Homelander's eyes turned from cold coal into glistening embers, threatening to destroy everything in their path shall the answer not be to his satisfaction. "Say. It!" he orders, his hands slamming on the table punctuating every word.

"Goddamnit, I'm afraid of you!"

"...what?" His voice was barely audible, laced with a hurt that surprised him - since deep down he knew the truth for a long time already.

"I'm afraid of you" she repeats, voice shaky at first but then practically yelling as if she knew it could be her last words. "I am fucking afraid of you, John! We all are! Everyone was relieved when you were finally gone, because no money is worth being subjected to you!"

"You- Vought...destroyed me for fucking nothing" he practically whines, his face running through various expressions at once as the last remains of his sanity crumbled. "I was robbed of any chance at normalcry and then tossed away like a broken weapon, and you seriously expected me to not return for a vengeance?!"

Countless possibilities rushed through his brain, one atrocious act more vile than the other - about how he could make the responsible pay the price for their wrongdoings, with Madelyn being the first one...

...but all his fury vanished when for the fraction of a second, his mind wandered back to you, who was still out there somewhere.

Maybe it was not too late for him after all.

All his life Homelander was comfortable trapping himself in a cage that was never locked, fearing whatever awaited outside could be even worse - but you, without even trying, had given him the hope to set himself free.

"Thanks for finally being honest with me." John shakes his head as if to cast all his violent impulses off, musing "I allowed you to use me because I never knew anything else...but that stops right now."

He breaks one of the windows with ease, grossed out by past memories when she dares taking ahold of his wrist. "Wha- where do you think you're going?" She looks sickishly pale, dreading that this would be the day he would go on a murderous rampage all those decades of madness had inevitably caused.

"I'm the Homelander, and I can do whatever the fuck I want." He rose into the air, not biding her another last look. "If anyone of Vought even tries to come near me again, I swear to god I'll end every single one of you."

___

Being in the US for the first time since your childhood made you realize: Damn, you didn't miss this shit a bit. Nostalgia is a real phenomenom, as it seems.

And even in this small town your...is it right to call him 'ex'? Anyways, his face is plastered on every square centimeter you'd fix your eyes on. Posters, screens, even goddamn groceries!

Hard to heal from something you couldn't even label, especially when basically everything reminds you of the love your heart still holds for John - or rather an illusion of a man that never actually existed.

You currently sat in front of your laptop, several tabs opened that made you feel pathetically nosy - but hey, there was hope that harvesting information about the real Homelander would help you overcome those silly, irrational emotions.

Then it should be good for you that everything you found out about him was freaking disappointing.

Vought...you were sure you had heard that name before. Typical monopolist corporate with a finger in every pie, unethical practices and too much influence on politics. It was as obvious as it was enraging, and yet no one cared enough to act against them - not that you were any better. To their defense, supes can be pretty scary so you get the sentiment of not wanting any beef with their bosses...especially after seeing John go apeshit in the past.

But as they all did, Vought still cared about their public image, and so they did a lot of charity to appear ethical. Not that it actually helped to cover any of their crimes up - this was more like an unofficial etiquette, a rule to behave like they're actually the good guys.

A few years ago you had applied for sponsoring your cause, and of course they denied the request. Vought couldn't give two shits about the environment, and if you didn't know any better they'd even go so far as destroying it themselves if the cause - profit, in this case - justifies the means.

Interesting enough, shortly after your return to society an official letter of the company magically appeared at your new address: A pledge of secrecy in return for money, summed up.

No thank you, metaphorically selling your soul to the devil wasn't your kind of thing.

A walking incarnate product, you thought as you closed the interview. No civil life, always performing. And that fabricated all-american backstory...ugh.

And about Homelander...

All videos you sporadically saw of him were kind of unsettling. His eyes were just as empty as his words, movements robotic and fake as if he had only learned to mimick normal behavior. Seeing him like this made you wonder if he even had a soul, or if Vought had sucked all humanity out of him decades ago.

How comes no one seems to notice...or do people simply don't want to acknowledge the truth about their heroes and the ones that lead them?

You sound like a dang conspiracy-theorist for someone that just got dumped by a supe in the most humiliating way possible. It's possibly just a coping mechanism to cover up the hurt caused by the indeniable truth: Someone like you was inadequate to the infamous Homelander in every single way.

The display of your old laptop almost snapped as you closed it in sadness and frustration, turning your attention to building that stubborn IKEA shelf again.

Wanting to regain an objective view on the situation at hand, you remind yourself that the two of you led fundamentally different lives that could never work out together. You hate modern civilization, you hate being the center of attention, you hate events and big cities...

...but you don't hate him. And maybe with him, for him, you could have endured.

Funny, isn't it? You've been alone ever since the death of your parents, keeping to yourself even while pursuing your education. Never able to form any close bonds, even if you tried. Ironically, you were exactly as lonely as him - not made to be among others just the same.

"Still a horrible taste for furniture, I see."

That familiar voice made your blood run cold, collecting yourself impossible as the blue-reddish silhouette belonging to it came into your field of view just seconds after.

All questions and accusations died on your tongue when you reminded yourself just who was standing in your living room right now. Homelander could find you no matter where, and literally tear away the roof of your house without anyone ever daring to object.

"You look great" he cannot help but notice, but you grimace as you see your own reflection in the window: grey sweatpants, a messy bun and an old T-shirt of his. Sure.

"Well, in case you forgot: I'm still in tremendous debt, so I'm not exactly drowning in luxury" you scoff, face fixated on the clash of wood and screws. John narrows his eyes in confusion, stating "Vought was supposed to recompensate you."

"Financially? Well, not without a catch." For a moment he thinks loudly, talking about 'ripping Ashley's head off', which made you finally turn to look at him. "Metaphorically" he added, raising his hands in a placating manner.

"Oh, yeah...Ashley." The name only forcedly escaped your throat, which did not go unnoticed by Homelander. "Your girlfriend and I had a long talk back then. She explained your outburst was caused by PTSD. So no worries."

"My wha-" John made a dramatical gagging sound, crinkling his nose at you. His fists were on his hips, expression grim ike always when he was about to rant about something, making your lips twitch as you resisted smiling at the adorable sight. "Gosh, no. Ew. She's everything but that."

You had almost forgotten how cute he could be when one pushed his buttons - good to know it's still this way. "So, what brings you here all of a sudden?"

"Well, I-" He opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to come up with something, anything, but it sure took him a while. "Y-You didn't publish anything."

"I searched for your article. You've been talking about it nonstop back then." He dared stepping closer, making himself as small as humanly possible. "Actually I hoped to be mentioned and showered in praise as your assistant."

"Huh?" You narrow your eyes at him, and his tension is barely veiled. Great, just great Mr. Charming.

Okay, that one made you laugh. You had almost forgotten how refreshing those little exchanges were. "Well well well...I had to start from scratch after a certain someone wrecked my laboratory." He nervously rubs the back of his head, unintelligibly chuckling "Right...sorry about that."

"It's alright" you dismiss the guilt in his voice with a cheerful remark, "I'm teaching at a university temporarily, until I got enough money for another try." He knew. All this time he never lost track of you, craving to walk this path together with you but too cowardly to ask for your permission to join. "Seriously, Homel-"

"John" he corrects you, showing no ill intend. "Please, just call me John." Oh, how he missed the way his name sounded in your voice: Neither shallow, nor demanding or afraid - just John, no strings attached.

"Oh. Oh. Okay, John. But..." you intertwine your fingers to keep them from trembling, biting the inside of your cheek. "Really, you don't owe me anythi-"

"I owe you every-fucking-thing!" John blurts out, his insistance showing as he softly grabbed your shoulders. "Y/N, you helped me despite gaining nothing from it. If that isn't heroic, I don't know what is. I mean, without you I'd be a fucking icicle right now."

How often did he say this corny trademark quote 'You are the real hero(es)' before? This is the first time that it felt genuine - after all, you had saved him in more ways than just one.

You cackle shortly, more out of attachment to the man than his joke actually being funny. But the longer his hands remained stubbornly on your body, the harder it became to act like acquaintances merely sharing a crazy story that's long in the past.

"But you can't give me what I want..." You don't know what moved you to speak from the heart, but after all that had happened you deserved to drown in some self-pity. John's forehead wrinkled in an attempt to make sense out of you, insisting "C'mon, let me indulge you a little. For old time's sake."

Nothing to lose after already having everything taken away from you, right?

"It's my fault, honestly" you try to keep it together, but you knew there was no hiding your choked sobs from his senses either way. "I fell for something fake. And I know, I know it's stupid, but-"

"Not everything was fake" you rudely got interrupted again, but the content of his rambling made you forgive him easily. "My feelings weren't."

It took you a while to have John's confession actually dawn on you, releasing a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "Your...what?"

"Took me long enough to realize" he snickered as he pulled you into a long-due hug, pressing a wet kiss into your hair out of habit. "I've tried to continue my old life, I really did. But fuck it...this whole time all my thoughts revolved around you."

He could barely hear over the sound of his own fastened heartbeat, but clearly your pulse was racing as well - not out of fear, that much he could tell.

And yet as much as the shared sentiment partially relieved you, there was something else laying heavy on your chest.

"I- don't know what to say, John" you try to wring yourself out of his embrace, but he stubbornly narrows the space between you, making you gasp in surprise.

Homelander was not someone taking no for an answer, used to always get what he wants no matter how. And people not acting like he anticipated was like hitting the bulls eye of his fragile psyche.

He'd be damned to just accept his loss after everything he put at risk.

"Hey big guy...look at me."

Your voice alone made him snap out of a downward-spiral that usually was an unstoppable force, always ending in tragedy. As he met your eyes he detected the plea in them, a vulnerability he had yet to allow himself.

"I have very strong feelings for you, John." Good. Then where's the fucking problem?! "But I've spent a lot of time thinking about" you pause, awkwardly gesticulating between the two of you. "This. You and me, us...John, you were talking in your sleep a lot back then. If you were not busy screaming your lungs out, I mean. About burning, drowning or being cut up alive..."

Your eyes begin to water at the memory, clawing a fistful of blue fabric from his suit. "Just...tell me the truth, and not that fancy propaganda bullshit. If we continue this, then I want to know you inside and out."

"What if..." John's voice cracks, only notices he'd been crying as he feelsbthe salt of his own tears prickle on his lips. He fucking hates this weakness, this sickness of his, especially if he cannot hide behind a facade. "What if the truth if so much more horribe than you could ever imagine?" His hands squeeze yours now, as if he fears you'd disappear if he let go off of this emotional anchor you had become.

John was about to pull back, bracing himself for the rejection. His only solace was the thought that it's probably the best for you.

If you'd know this relationship would eventually turn you into the moral support of a malignant narcissist and subsequent homicidal maniac, there was no way on earth you'd still voluntarily be a part of his life.

"Then I guess we've got to figure it out."

Whatever the extend of his pain, you are aware it's going to put a huge toll onto you as well. He most likely can't live normally, let alone love.

You cradle his face in your hands and he subconsciously leans into the touch, whining at his own neediness. "I can't say that my love is going to erase your hurt, but I can promise to be at your side through all of it."

"That's about the best fucking thing someone has ever said to me" he half-cries, half-laughs when you finally pull the man on his collar down to your height, sealing your promise with a kiss.

"And now get out of that costume" you tease, pinching one of the pads on his chest. "Looks even more hilarious now that I know you're not all that muscular underneath."

"Well, to my defense, other clothes aren't really fit for breaking sonic speed." He twirls you around skillfully, embracing you from behind as close as humanly possible. "And besides, that makes me the perfect candidate for a long-distance relationship, don't you think? You stay in this boring chaff, hell even the end of the world if you want to, and I could still visit you everyday. Or I'll just kidnap you to wherever you want."

Seems like he had already planned it all out. Not the most concerning action of his, though. Almost sweet, if you want to see it this way.

Won't be the last time, surely.

"But what do you want?" The question was so simple, so downright basic that not knowing the answer left him empty inside. His wishes? Does he even have any dreams or aspirations?

There was never a 'John' - the boy with this name died in that lab so Homelander could rise. For so long he had existed for the sole purpose of others that he completely forgot he was in charge of his own fate...

He leans to kiss you again, more tender this time as he savours the way your tears mix with his."I want to enjoy this until I can give you a proper answer one day."

...until you opened his eyes, through sheer kindness and willpower.

Maybe humans aren't so weak after all.

Finally, he smiles. It's the kind of smile that reaches up to his ears, making his whole face crinkly. One that matches with his eyes, genuine and radiant just like back when you first met.

"There you are...welcome home, John."

#the boys #homelander #homelander / reader #self insert #writing #fanfiction

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seenoversundown · 1 month

Text

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Fifteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (I'll put the gentle stuff first so if you want to skip the smut warnings you can but also please read them if you're worried! Viewer discretion is always advised! 💕) Flirting, Suggestive Language, Sexual Tension runs DEEP, Alcohol/Drinking, sending risque photos / sexting essentially, smoking, & Jake our sweet baby boy being nervous as fuck.

*smut time* including: (oral f/m receiving, mild hand kinks insinuated, fingers in places, fairly rough SEX, literally all our dreams are being insinuated in here folks.)

Word Count: 5k !!

Summary: After using the utmost will power Jake has the night before, Charlotte truly tests his ability to resist his urges the next day while he's working. And well, you can imagine how far he makes it.

Author's Note: THE CANDLE IS AFLAME. LETS GOOOOO!!! I can't wait for you guys to read this one and I especially can't wait to hear your feelings about it! You've been patient with me and I made sure that it was well worth the wait. Enjoy the ride babes! 😘💕

Tear You Apart - She wants Revenge "I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart, As I whisper in your ear. "I want to fucking tear you apart."

Nothing in the last eighteen hours has felt real. We laid there talking about whatever came to mind for a while, but she stayed pressed against me the whole time. Alternating between holding my hand or drawing little shapes on my chest as she told me stories.

Getting to wake up with her curled up in my arms, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t just pretend to sleep for a few minutes just to enjoy the way she played with my hair and kissed my face until I finally “woke up.” Staying in bed until Josh left the apartment so we didn’t sell ourselves out. Just quietly talking and sharing lazy kisses for a while, I felt like I was still dreaming.

Coming back into the room, she was wrapped up in one of my shirts, just sitting on my bed and scrolling on her phone.

“I didn’t know friends with benefits meant you stealing my clothes,” I tease.

Her smile is contagious, “what do you think the benefits part means?”

“Oh, is that right?” I ask in a taunting tone as I start getting dressed. Watching her pout as I button my pants, “What’s that for?”

She climbs off the bed quickly, sliding her hands around my waist, “Can you just not look at me when I say this?” The question laced with her giggles.

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” I laugh.

“You’re just sooo..” she quietly but quickly spits out.

My eyebrow raises as she avoids finishing the sentence. Reaching back to grab a shirt from my closet, she’s still clung to me.

She finally squeaks out, “sexy.” Immediately tucking her face into me, I wrap my arms around her as I laugh. She thinks I’m—?

“If I didn’t have to be in the bar, trust me— I wouldn’t ruin your fun.”

She leans back, moving her hands to the same place on my stomach, slowly letting them creep up to my chest, “Starting my day off with a little torture?”

You have no idea.

“I haven’t forgotten about that promise,” I mumble to her. Watching her eyes light up, I tell her, “I’ll make it up to you, but I do need to work for a little bit.”

“Better be good if you’re making me wait even longer.” She taunts.

“Oh, I think you’ll agree it was worth the wait,” I tell her before whispering, “But you have to let go of me if you ever want to find out.” Leaning forward to press my forehead against hers, trying to not laugh at the pout on her face.

“I’m not done yet,” she groans, letting herself fall into me and chuckling to myself as she dramatically goes limp in my arms. We stood there like that for a few minutes; she kept leaving little kisses all over my chest, which further convinced me that I deserved an award for self-control.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After what felt like the longest goodbye, I have never wanted to not be in my bar more than I do today. Time feels like it’s crawling by as I stand here talking to customers at the bar. I’m nodding along to whatever they tell me as Josh mingles amongst the rest of the room. I see my phone light up out of the corner of my eye.

Charlotte: Hi

Me: hello there

Well, at least she can keep me company now. I pour a fresh beer and slide it to the man sitting across from me. I carefully tap on my phone, ..she already replied.

Charlotte: I have a problem..

Me: oh? What’s that?

Charlotte: Can’t stop thinking about how lol good you looked this morning 🤭

I can feel the heat rush to my face; what is she trying to do right now? I stare straight up at the ceiling for a second before replying.

Me: and how can I help you with that?

Charlotte: [sends photo in invisible ink]

Charlotte: I don’t know Jacob, how can you?

I lock my phone faster than the speed of light. I close my eyes, biting the inside of my mouth. I can’t look at that out here. I make eye contact with Josh from across the room, gesturing to the bathroom as he nods quickly.

I may as well have run into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I open her texts, slowly swiping away the invisible ink. There sits a photo of her legs crossed, stretched out in front of her, with dark red lace hugging her hips. Fuck me. Willing away the thoughts racing in my mind, I finally reply.

Me: holy shit- I wish I was there.

After a moment of silence and a handful of deep breaths, I make my way back out to the bar. How am I supposed to do this and not be obvious about it?

Charlotte: Oh, you do?

Me: You have no idea.

I’d do anything to be there, Jesus Christ. I ring up a handful of tabs, sliding the receipts and their cards back to them as they head out and new customers take their places at the bar.

I feel my phone vibrate as I’m taking someone’s order, turning to make it and setting my phone in front of me.

Charlotte: What would you do if you were here?

I about drop the bottle I’m holding when I read it. God, I don’t even know what I’d do. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with a girl I’d probably panic.

Me: oh honey I wish I could tell you

Sliding their drink to them and grabbing a few empty glasses, anything to fight the demons away at this point. I pull my hair up into a low bun, trying to relieve myself of some of the heat coming off of me.

“Warm?” Josh asks as he’s dropping off a handful of cans and glasses.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I don’t know why.” I laugh for a second, definitely not because she’s tormenting me through text or anything.

“You can go outside for a minute if you want; I got it.”

“I may just take you up on that.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Throwing my phone in my pocket, I grab a cigarette from my office before hustling out back. The crisp, almost winter air hit me, instantly sending a chill through me. I lit the cigarette, only taking one drag from it before pulling my phone out.

Charlotte: tell me Jacob

My hands shake as I go to reply, whether it’s nerves or the cold, who knows? I fumble around, trying to convince myself to just say it to her.

Me: god I just want to taste you

Was that dumb? I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could just BE THERE. Taking another slow drag, I watch the little typing bubble pop up.

Charlotte: [sends photo]

“Fucking hell,” I breathe out.

My head drops back the moment it shows up. Her torso, the dark red lace, so gently cupped her. The glimmer of her nipple piercings caught the light as they’ peaked against the lace on them. She’s beautiful. The way I can see how her body curves and how soft her skin is.

Charlotte: does that mean you’re a ‘ladies first’ kind of man?

Me: first and second, if that’s okay with you

Charlotte: omg jacob?

Charlotte: that’s so hot

My stomach turns with every text; I’m so nervous. She just can’t know about it. The thought of going down on her plagues my mind. The sounds she’d make, the way she’d taste.

Me: i’m sorry you look so fucking good

Me: how am I supposed to just stand behind the bar now?

Taking the last few drags and putting it out, I head back inside. I sipped on the drink I have in my office, and then grab a mint before plopping down in my chair for a minute.

Charlotte: that’s how I felt this morning

Charlotte: you’ve been on my mind all day baby

‘Baby’ plays in my head from the other day. I can feel the blood rushing away from my brain with every flirty text she sends.

Me: what have you been thinking about?

I almost instantly regret asking because I know that the answer is going to be painful. Opening my email and scrolling through it for a moment before her name popped up in my notifications.

Charlotte: How I wish you didn’t need to work today

Charlotte: Just stayed in your bed all day with your hands all over me

Me: yeah? You want that?

You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work. The sigh that falls out of me as I fight off every shiver that goes through my body because of her. Finally, getting up and going back out to the bar, letting Josh go hide for a few minutes.

I take a chance to go wander around the tables and booths, talking to some of the regulars who were hidden amongst the crowd. I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh, but I try to ignore it while I get a few drink orders. I grab a few empty cans on my way back to the bar, tossing them into their bin before sliding my phone back out under the bar.

Charlotte: mhmm. Your hands or your mouth, whichever you’d prefer.

Charlotte: Just want you to touch me.

Me: god you’re killing me

Pouring the drinks, but Josh sneaks over to grab them before I can.

“How was your break?” I ask quietly.

“Lovely,” He nods slightly, “How’s your night going?” His eyes dart to my phone and back at me. The warmth spreads through me again, and I just clear my throat quietly.

He grabs my arm before quietly spitting out, “Oh, my sweet little brother, I’m not blind. You’ve been obsessively checking it; what is she saying to you?”

I can’t help but laugh, “I don’t think you want to hear it.” Raising my eyebrows as we look at each other, his grin grows across his face.

“Oh! Well, in that case, there’s a can of WD-40 in the back if you need to loosen up those joints before you see her,” he winks as he tells me, backing away with the drinks, and I flip him off carefully before I point to the table they’re supposed to be going to.

Charlotte: I just know you’d take such good care of me

Me: whatever you wanted

Charlotte: [sends photo]

A small groan escapes as I look at her. In my shirt, she’s peeking over her shoulder into the mirror. She’s definitely holding it up slightly because she’s sat on the counter, her ass perfectly outlined by that god-forsaken lace again. My cock twitches the longer I stare at her.

Me: for me?

My mouth goes dry at the thought of seeing her like that in person; the realization that it could happen was hitting me. I look at the time, 11:58 pm, before locking my phone and tossing it back under the bar.

“You can go if you want,” I tell Josh, leaning into him.

He scans the room, “Are you positive?” A fair amount of the booths and tables have cleared out at this point and there are just a few stragglers aside from the actual bar.

“Very. I can handle the rest of the night. Get out of here while it’s still early..ish,” I tell him, grabbing his shoulder with a light squeeze.

“I will not argue that,” he mutters, “if I’m asleep, love you and goodnight.” He pats my arm a few times as he walks past me.

Charlotte: just you baby 🤭

Me: wish i could kiss you right now

Charlotte: I wish you could do more than that

Me: don’t think I’d be able to control myself

Not a lie. I don’t think I’ve ever felt tension like this in my life. The fact I’m stuck here feels like low-grade torture. I grab a towel and some spray, making my rounds throughout the tables. I try to get some of the cleaning done, hoping it’ll help distract me a little.

My phone vibrates against my leg, and my heart drops, knowing it’s her.

Charlotte: [sends photo]

“Fuck me,” I quietly mutter to myself. She’s sat on her floor, her hands pulling some of my shirt in between her legs, but not enough to fully hide her lingerie. Her hair was messy and draped over her shoulders. A glorious shot of her tits, so gently pressed into each other. The desperate need to kiss my way up her legs grows stronger as I stare at them.

Me: Charlotte.

I wipe the table in front of me slowly so I can give myself a second to chill out before having to turn around.

Charlotte: yes, Jacob?

My self-control is on the floor at this point.

Me: come here

Charlotte: really?

Me: yes please come here.

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The moment she walked in, it made the last thirty minutes feel like they hadn’t even happened. She finds her usual seat at the bar, letting a smile sneak onto her face when she gets comfortable.

Why am I nervous now?

Bringing over her drink, it’s hard not to notice what she’s wearing. She knows what she’s doing. As I slide it across the bar, I realize that she left the bulk of the shirt unbuttoned and just tucked into her pants carefully.

“Hi,” she squeaks out, timidly grabbing the glass in front of her. Watching how the glass sits on her lip when she drinks, the movement of her throat when she swallows. I hadn’t thought of what I was doing when I told her to come here. This is worse.

“Hi,” I manage to get out, “you look .. nice.” My eyes trailed down her body, trying not to make it too obvious to anybody else, but the moment I noticed that I could see the same bra she had on in the pictures she sent me, my heart stopped. She must have caught me because she leaned forward in her seat a little, making the shirt shift so I had an even clearer shot of it.

I slowly blink as my head shakes, taking a subtle deep breath because I still have forty-five minutes before I can kick everybody out.

“What’s wrong?” she asks coyly.

“I think you know.” Backing away to make sure everybody else at the bar is good, I feel like I have to manually move my eyes away from her. Why didn’t I tell her to get here later? I have to act normal and I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that right now.

Thankfully, for me, around 1:30 am is when most people start to head out, so I spend a few minutes grabbing the tabs for people, taking care of those while I feel her eyes on me the entire time. The customers next to her also want to head out, so I bring over their receipt, leaning into the bar a bit purposefully, letting my shirt fall open a little more where I know she can see it. I glance over at her with my eyebrow cocked as I see her eyes shoot up to meet mine.

“I saw that,” I mumble to her.

The corners of her lips curling up slightly, she whispers back, “Good.”

As time crept by, I wonder to myself why I thought having her here would be the better option. We’ve been having staring contests the entire time, not even saying anything to each other, just from across the bar.

There’s only a few stragglers lingering, so I do one more lap around the tables, making sure to grab anything that was left. But, the moment she’s in my peripheral vision again, my self-control lowers more.

Strolling up behind her, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around her, I rest my hand on the base of her neck.

“You doing okay?” I ask, my hand squeezing the back of her neck gently.

Her head turned a little to try and look at me, “I could be better.” The smile on her face was making me sweat.

“Give me like ten minutes,” I lean in close to her ear, “I’ll make sure of it.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Following the last customers to the door, I flip off the signs as they make their way out. My heart is pounding as I turn the locks over on the doors. The sudden realization that we’re fully alone washes over me, but the need to feel her touch overrides it.

I turn around to look at her, and she’s already walking over to me. I quickly meet her halfway, my hands pulling her face to me, the desperate need to feel her lips on mine finally relieved as the kiss goes on. Her hands pull on my shirt like she can’t get close enough. Leaning down, I grab the backs of her knees, lifting her up, and her legs wrap around me, never detaching from the kiss. Her hands slide up into my hair as she smiles against my lips.

Walking her back over, I set her on the bar top, my hands on either side of her. Kissing the side of her neck, I can see her breathing getting heavier. Fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, exposing her. The dark red lace against her pale complexion, holy shit, only looking at her for a moment before trailing kisses down her sternum. My hands find their place around her waist, hovering my mouth over her, looking up at her; she’s intently watching me, letting out a tiny whimper.

“Please, Jacob,” she breathes out.

My mouth connects with her instantly; her moan rings through my ears. I slide my hand up, gently pulling the lace away from her, and goosebumps slowly creep in. Letting my thumb graze over her peaked nipple, I press a kiss to her other breast.

Her thighs tense up with every time I swirl my tongue around her. Moving my hands and spreading her thighs so I can stand between them, pulling her to the edge of the bar. She unbuttons her pants, pushing them down, and lifting herself enough to slide them to her thighs for me.

“Well, aren’t you an eager little thing?” I mumble, pulling them off her. “Lay back for me, honey?” She practically fell to her elbows, her eyes locked on me.

Pressing wet kisses down her stomach but stopped as soon as I hit the dainty lace. The nerves of touching her for the first time hit; don’t fuck this up. I run my hands down her thighs, pushing them further apart before teasingly leaving little kisses closer and closer to where she really wants me to be.

“Is this okay?” Looking up at her from between her legs. She lets out a breathy ‘yes’; her eyes look desperate for some sort of touch. I plant a kiss over her covered clit, getting the most delicious moan out of her. I can’t resist from pulling the fabric to the side. She’s soaked already.

One slow lick up her center, and she already dropped her head back. Smiling as I swirl my tongue around her clit, lightly sucking, doing anything to keep the noises coming out of her. She’s so quiet typically, I would have never expected her to be so vocal, but I’m not complaining.

“Oh my god, Jake,” she moans. The sound of my name falling from her lips has me groaning into her. She tastes so sweet; I can’t get enough of her. You would think I was starving with the way my mouth couldn’t stop. Glancing up at her as my tongue laps around her clit, her eyes meeting mine as she lets out another delicious moan. I tease her with my middle finger, just barely touching her, and she jumps at the feeling.

“Please,” she whines, still looking down at me.

“Oh, you want this?” I ask, sliding my middle finger into her and slowly pumping my hand into her, watching her mouth fall open. The wetter she gets, the faster I go. Trying to find just the right spot, needing to make her feel good. Pressing up so slightly as I pull back. The way her mouth opens more; that’s it, sweet girl.

“Oh- oh my god,” she moans out, “more, please. Please, baby.” The name makes my heart flutter and my dick twitch; my ring finger joins in, watching her eyes roll back and pressing up into that special place that makes her want to scream. I pump my fingers into her, listening to her pretty moans as she keeps grabbing the edges of the bar like they’re her lifeline.

“Oh, is that good?”

A slew of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘holy shit’ come from her as I start to play with her clit with my other hand. Rubbing little circles to drive her mad, watching her writhe with pleasure, her back arching off the bar. Fuck me.

“Come for me, honey.”

I can feel her about to break, dipping my head down and swirling around her quickly with my tongue. Her hands tangled themselves in my hair, holding me there. Groaning into her at the feeling and lifting her leg so I can wrap my arm around her, the back of her knee lands over my shoulder as I’m pulling her into me.

“Oh- baby, don’t stop, please, please- oh, oh my GOD,” her volume increases as her orgasm hits her, and she’s pulling my hair as she’s practically riding my face. My name has never sounded better than the way she’s yelling it.

She sits up after a minute, pulling my face to hers and planting a kiss on me.

“Where did you- how- um, so .. yeah, how did you?” She stumbles over her words, and without stopping, she’s unbuttoning my shirt. I laugh as she’s trying to form a coherent thought.

“I told you it would be worth it,” I whisper into her ear, placing a kiss just below it. “But, I‘m not done with you yet,” comes out of me, in almost a growl. Who am I?

Helping her off the bar, she grabs my arms, turning us around and pushing me back into it. Her hands work my belt and button in my jeans as fast as they can as she’s trailing kisses down my neck. Her hand dipping into my boxers; I let out a groan when she wraps her hand around me.

“I need you,” slips out of me as she strokes a few times. She presses her lips to mine, mumbling in between kisses, “Please, fuck me, Jacob.” I can’t stop the moan that comes out after that.

“I don’t have a-,“ I start to whisper when she cuts me off quickly.

“That's okay,” she tells me, kissing underneath my jaw. I grab her arms, already missing the feeling of her hand on me. Walking her backwards, our heated kisses made it hard to walk straight. I slide the shirt off of her and toss it onto a barstool. Reaching a table, I spin her around so her back is against my chest, my hands snaking around her small frame. I reach up, softly rubbing small circles over her nipples until her head falls back onto me.

My right hand crept up, sliding it up her throat until I was holding her jaw. Her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; taking the risk, I lightly rest my finger on her lip. Unprepared for her to immediately tilt her head back up, wrapping her lips around it.

“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. “Can you bend over for me, honey?” Her tongue swirls around it before She leans forward onto the table, pushing her ass into me.

She knows what she’s doing. My hands slide over her. I squat down for just a second, spreading her open and licking a wide stripe up her. I saw the goosebumps on her skin as I kiss her before standing up.

I slide my boxers down far enough for my cock to be free, the relief from being out alone. I pull the lace to the side again, lining myself up with her. Slowly pushing into her, she lets out a loud moan. God, she feels good. I let myself bottom out in her, giving her a second before I move. And myself, to be honest.

“Baaaby,” she lets out. I hold her hips as I start to pull back, slowly thrusting into her. My own moans start falling out as our pace picks up. Looking down as I push into her, my mouth hangs open; the feeling is surreal.

“Feel good?”

She lets out a small ‘yes’ while she arches her back more. The sounds of my hips slapping against her, the way I can feel how wet she is, the feeling as she’s pushing back against my thrusts to feel as full as she can.

“Holy shit, Charlotte.”

She looks back at me through her eyelashes and, with the sweetest voice, tells me, “harder.”

My heart pounds at her words. Without hesitation, I step my left foot up onto the booth, gripping her waist, and start snapping my hips as hard as I can into her. I bite the inside of my lip as her moans get louder while I keep hitting the right spot over and over. Fuck, she feels so good. Watching how she stretches her arms in front of her, her knuckles white with how hard she’s holding her own hand.

I bend down, hovering my lips over her ear when I whisper, “I know you have one more for me, honey.” Her moan was enough of a response for me. My necklace barely grazed the skin between her shoulder blades, and I watched the goosebumps flood her skin. I press a kiss against that same spot before standing back up. I grab her arms, pulling her up so her back is pressed against me. My hand dipped in between her legs, finding her clit that was just screaming for my attention. My fingers quickly start working at it, as her chest is heaving at this point, and I can feel her orgasm about to break. Both of us breathe heavily as she tilts her head back, and I sneak a kiss on her neck, letting out a small ‘mmm’ against her skin.

“Jacob, baby,” she moans.

“Tell me,” I groaned back to her.

“I’m gonna-“ is all she gets out before her jaw goes slack and her eyes are fixed shut.

“Let it out,” I whisper as I pound into her. She's moaning loudly in my ear, pulling my hand away when she starts to get too sensitive. I slow my hips down so she can recover, watching the soft smile settle on her lips. She pulls my arms around her, leaning her head back against me until she shifts slightly, and we both remember that I’m still buried inside her.

“Hun, I’m not gonna last much longer,” I tell her quietly before I press a kiss to her temple. She taps my hip a few times so I’d back up. She drops down and just, with no thought, slides my cock into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it as she bobs her head up and down the length of it. Using her hands on whatever she can’t comfortably do with her mouth. And god, is she good at it.

The thought of her doing this after she just came on me inches me closer. I glance down to see her looking back up at me, and the visual alone has me two seconds away from finishing.

“I’m so close, don’t stop,” it’s my turn to whimper. She pushes it further into her mouth, she swallows around me and I’m done for. One of my hands found its place on the back of her head, fighting the urge to thrust into her.

“Fuck, Charlotte—“ Practically yelling her name as I release into her throat, her hands working me through it. Swallowing as she stands up, she presses a gentle kiss on my lips. I can’t believe that just happened.

“Well, um,” I mumble, breathing heavily and wrapping my arms around her, “that was..”

“So fucking good.” She giggles, tucking her face into me, mumbling, “You’re so hot.”

My face feels warm when she says it; she thought it was that good? We stand there for a few minutes, just laughing, as she’s curled up in my arms.

“Wanna just sleep here?”

“Only if you’ll carry me up the stairs,” she says with a little smirk, her hands pressed against my chest, “I don’t think my legs could do it right now.”

“You’re gonna give me a complex,” I laugh, kissing her forehead, “get dressed real quick.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After pretending to be Prince Charming and carrying her up the two flights of stairs, we both immediately crawl into bed. She makes herself comfortable, tugging my arm over her so she can back herself into me and wiggling her ass against my dick.

“Hey now,” I mumble, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Her soft laughs fill the room, “Who said I wouldn’t finish it?”

“Charlotte.”

“What, baby?” Her voice taunts me as she slides her hand into mine and arching her back a little. My entire body feels like it’s full of butterflies.

My face tucked into her, I quietly laughed while pressing kisses to the top of her shoulder. If she keeps calling me that, I don’t know how I’m going to ever say no to her. I kiss the side of her neck, pulling her body tight against mine before whispering into her ear, “You’re gonna have to stay quiet this time. Can you do that for me, honey?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Sixteen

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doe-eyed-fool · 5 months

Text

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter Four|

Y/n couldn't seem to rid herself of that off feeling. Something wasn't right, and it was making her anxious. But was there really anything to get worked up over? Not really. And yet, the feeling remained.

She decided later that day, she would go and visit Michael again to calm her nerves. On the way, she had ran into Adam. At his side, like always, was Lute.

"Well if it isn't the mystical babe!" Adam smirks. "Where are you heading off to, sweet thing?" Y/n inwardly cringes. While keeping a proper attitude, she responds. "Hello Adam, I'm on my way to visit Michael."

"Psh, you two are totally fucking aren't you?"

"Is there something I can help you with?" Y/n says, choosing to ignore what he said.

"Didn't deny it." Adam mutters as he elbows Lute. Lute keeps her harden expression, her arms folded behind her back. Adam continues. "Nah, I don't need anything from you. Unless you're looking for a good time, if you know what I mean." He grins mischievously.

"No, thank you." Y/n says curtly. "How was your meeting with Sera?"

"Boring as shit." Adam answers simply. "I see. I assume everything is fine then? There wasn't anything strange that came up during the meeting?" Asked Y/n.

"That's between me and Sera, babe." Adam says, clearly bored with this conversation too.

"Alright. Well then." Y/n walked past him. "Pleasure talking with you, Adam, Lute." Lute said nothing, other than nodding her head.

"Oh trust me, the pleasure's all mine." Adam says, Y/n could practically feel his eyes on her rear. She rolled her eyes and speed up her walk slightly.

Y/n finally made it to Michael's home. She entered and made her way further inside. Normally, she would have needed Michael to portal her to where he was, due to how large his home was. But Y/n grew accustomed to the place over the years, she could easily find him now.

Michael was in the study, passing the time by reading. His head perked up when he heard Y/n approaching. "Y/n." He greets her with a smile. "What brings you by?" He asks, closing the book and setting it aside.

"I wanted to see you. I'm...a bit frazzled at the moment." Y/n answers, feeling somewhat selfish. Though, Michael was always open whenever she needed to talk with him. "What's happened?" He asks, concerned.

"Sera is acting off. Or at least it feels that way. I told her of a vision I had, and she barely question it. Normally the questioning would be non-stop until she's satisfied. But, she didn't seem concerned at all." Y/n explains.

"Is there a reason to be concerned?" Asked Michael. "Charlotte Morningstar will be meeting with Heaven soon." Said Y/n, causing Michael's brows to raise. "What for?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. But whatever it is, Sera didn't seem too concerned. But maybe she was, from how she basically rushed me out the door. She said she needed to speak with Adam about it."

"Is there nothing else you can see from that point?"

Y/n shook her head. "I can only see so far into the future. As time passes, the path will reveal itself further. We can only wait for now."

"I see." Said Michael. "Do you sense any ill intent from Charlotte?"

"No. Nothing like that. You've heard me talk about her. She's so...not demon like at all, despite where she comes from." Y/n crosses her arms. "It makes me think, could there really be demons down there who are like her? Is there any good in the hearts of sinners?"

"That I don't know, Y/n." Said Michael. "But if this Charlotte girl is only good that's down there, well then...That gives me hope that Lucifer has done something to influence that kind of mindset from her."

That made Y/n smile slightly. "You think so?" Michael smiles as well. "I do. And hey, maybe Sera's finally giving you a break. Take advantage of that while you can."

Y/n sighs. "Maybe I will. I might just be overthinking all of this. I'm sure everything's fine."

Everything was not fine. A truly awful vision came to Y/n one week after talking with Sera. Y/n was rushing to find the head Seraphim, desperate to tell her what she's seen.

And even more desperate for answers...

Once she arrived at Sera's residence, and knocked on the door quickly with shaky hands. Unfortunately it was not Sera who answered, but Emily.

"Hi, Y/n! What brings you by?"

Y/n tried her best to conceal her panic as she spoke. "I must speak with Sera right away. It's urgent." Emily's smile dropped as she grew concerned. "Is something wrong?" She asks.

"I...I don't know yet." Y/n lied, wanting to spare Emily's feelings. Emily agreed to let her see Sera, welcoming her in. Emily lead Y/n to Sera's office.

"Ah, Y/n. How can I help you?" Asked Sera. Y/n furrowed her brows, but she kept a calm tone as she spoke. "I need to speak with you Sera. I had another vision."

Sera looked to Emily. "Emily?" Emily nods before leaving the room to give them privacy. Sera folded her hands. "What's happened?"

"I am in disbelief Sera." Y/n began, her voice dipping as anger finally settled in. "How could you? How could you allow for something so cruel to happen?"

Sera narrows her eyes. "What are you saying?"

"The exterminations." Sera's eyes widened. "You allowed Adam and his angels to down to Hell and murder thousands of people! How could you, Sera?"

Sera's expression hardened. "Those people are dangerous. I did what was best for everyone in Heaven. They were uprising."

"Uprising? Sera, nothing in my visions warned of any sort of uprising!"

"Perhaps that is because I took charge. Hell's population is growing too large. One way or another, it was going to become a serious problem." Sera stood from her desk and turned her back to Y/n. "I for one am not going to sit by and do nothing, and just allow Heaven to fall into harms way."

Y/n was seething with anger. "I didn't allow Lucifer to bring harm to Heaven! Don't you dare insist I would ever allow anything to bring harm to us!"

Sera turned to face you, her eyes sharp with anger. "You had the chance to warn us about Lucifer's revolt and you did nothing!" Before Y/n could get the chance to argue back, Sera spoke again.

"We have souls to protect here, and I can not have any more mistakes that will put those souls at risk. And Heaven is safe, because of the tough choices I had to make. And if a few demons must die for the sake of everyone in Heaven's safety, then so be it."

"There are human souls down there Sera!" Y/n exclaimed.

Sera narrows her eyes and turns away from you again. "They were human, once. And they had their chance."

Y/n could have stormed out right then, but that was not the only vision she saw.

"Well. Because of your little exterminations, Adam will be killed."

Sera sharply turns her head over her shoulder. "What?"

"In six months, Adam will go down to Heaven for the extermination, but he will not return." Y/n glares at Sera. "So. Are you willing to send Adam to his death, Sera?"

Sera returns the glare, she looks away from Y/n again. "If you have nothing else to say, then you may leave."

Oh, Y/n had plenty more to say. But she would not waste her breath on someone like her any further. Clearly, Sera was in no mood to negotiate.

And she never will be.

So, Y/n turns and walks out of her office. She stormed past Emily, ignoring her as she tried to ask what was wrong. Y/n went back to her home, still furious, but trying to calm herself.

How could Sera have kept this a secret for so long? She's been lying to everyone, even Emily. Well, Y/n most certainly wasn't going to let her get away with this.

This extermination plot of hers is over, and Y/n was going to make sure of that.

As soon as she reach for the door, it swung open. And in walked Adam and Lute.

"Hey babe. Heard you and Sera had quite the argument." A wicked grin formed on Adam's face. "She sent me over to keep the peace."

Y/n took a step back as Adam approached her. Lute smirked as she shut the door and locked it.

"So. How about we settle it, right now?" Adam chuckles darkly.

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ereardon · 9 months

Text

Golden Hour || Ch. 5

[Bob Floyd x Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, heart attack

Chapter summary: Bob and Olive fight about the partnership agreement for the medical practice; Olive and Bradley attend a Halloween party where one townsperson has a medical emergency

WC: 3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

“It’s hot,” you groaned. “Halloween is not supposed to be hot. Halloween is supposed to be leather pants and cocktails and a chilly breeze on a rooftop on the Lower East Side.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Leather pants, really?”

You shrugged. “College.”

She opened the fridge, pulling out a container of orange juice and sliding you a glass. You held it out as she dribbled the liquid into your glass. “Halloween ‘round here is kids hopped on sugar and parents chasing them dressed as pirates and it’s still shorts season.”

“Is it too much to ask for one cold day where I can wear sweats and eat cornbread and chili and watch a movie?”

“Sweats, Doc?” she asked.

“Cashmere sweats,” you clarified as Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Besides, what do people even do here on Halloween? People over the age of nine that is.”

“Party at the Flannery House,” she replied. “They throw it every year.”

“And the Flannerys are?”

“Charlotte’s parents.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t run into Charlotte since she walked into Breakers two weeks before, but rumors in town had been swirling about her return. One was that she was here to get Bob back. Another was that she was starting a dance studio in town. You had even heard she was planning to run for Mayor.

“She’s a pill,” Phoenix said, “but the parties are legendary. You’ll be my date.”

You laughed. In a matter of only a few months, you and Phoenix had fallen into an easy routine together. The town no longer despised you, and besides Bradley you even had a few regular patients. Bob was still the doctor of choice at the practice, but he had begun to relinquish walk-ins to you when necessary after the flu epidemic. “Is Bradley going?”

Phoenix crossed her arms over her chest. “Should have known you’d only want to go to see Bradshaw. Yeah, he’s going. Everyone goes.”

It had been a week and a half since your date with Bradley. He dropped you back at the guest house, the two of you lingering a moment on the sloped porch. “I’d invite you in,” you said softly, “but to be honest it’s a mess. Your house is way cuter, so I’d be embarrassed for you to see what I live like.”

Bradley laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Next time, Doc.”

“How about you give me your mother’s name if I need an interior designer?”

“One date and you already want to meet the parents?”

You grinned. “You’re cheeky. I like that about you.”

“There’s a lot to like about you, Doc.”

How long had it been since you kissed someone who wasn’t Peter? Years. How long had it been since you had done that sober? Even longer. You could feel the heat radiating from Bradley’s body. From several exams before you realized he was faking all illnesses, you knew for a fact that Bradley was well built. Surprising, for a lawyer. But then again, nothing about Willow had turned out like you expected. “Goodnight, Bradley,” you whispered, opening the creaky door. You held your breath. It had been years since you’d gone on a date. You no longer knew the etiquette.

Bradley leaned in, sliding his lips gently across your cheek. His scent flooded your senses, and you resisted the urge to grab his collar, pull him in, lock your lips to his. But restraint took hold and as he pulled away, you smiled. “Goodnight, Olive.”

***

“You’re where?”

Lina’s voice was shrill and filled with shock. In all of the chaos you had neglected to tell your globe trotting best friend that you had packed up and left New York on practically a whim. “Georgia.”

“Like canned peaches, plantations, Coca-Cola, hillbilly truck driver, fried chicken Georgia?”

You sighed, walking in a tight circle in the living room that doubled as a bedroom in the guest house. “Like small town Americana. It could almost be Lana-core if only it was set in Rhode Island instead of Willow.”

“Willow?” That was a screech. “Like the fucking grandmother tree in whatever that movie was?”

“Pocahontas,” you clarified. “And yes.”

“Did you have a stroke?”

“Peter left me.”

“What?” You could hear the gasp through the phone. You could picture her perfectly: jet black hair swishing as she stopped dead from where she was doing the stair stepper in front of her window overlooking Fifth Avenue. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“The ring?”

“East River.”

“Fucking christ, Livvy,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. To think I wasted all those good years on him.”

“He has a pig face you know,” she said. “I stuffed that comment down for years but now that we’re over him and he’s dead to us, I can admit it. He has a pig face and a medical degree from California.” The way she said California made you laugh. The utter disgrace of it. “You’re better off.”

“Thanks, Lee.”

“So are there men in Willow?”

“A few.”

“Tell me everything.” You told Lina about Bradley and his dramatic attempts to get you to go on a date, and the reluctant dinner date at his house. She hummed along. “And what about this Dr. Bob?”

“He’s surly,” you replied instantly. “But there’s something deep down that isn’t so bad,” you added. “I don’t know. He hates me I think.”

“Nobody hates you,” Lina said. “You’re the perfect angel baby.”

“Peter hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she replied. “He just didn’t respect you. And that should be enough to make you hate him. Because any man who can’t respect you doesn’t deserve even an afterthought.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, sweetie,” she said. “I would say I’ll visit, but small town charm is good for some and slow painful death for others. I think you know which camp I fall into.”

“You liked small when it was a village in Tahiti.”

“I like small when it’s half-naked men carrying me on a daybed and feeding me smoothies,” she clarified. You laughed. “Anyways, I should go, Paolo is going to be here any moment. Love you Liv.”

“Love you, too.”

The line clicked and you sighed, tossing the phone onto a pile of silk pillows you had ordered. The room was a disaster, just like you had told Bradley: boxes from Bergdorf’s half opened, a pile of sheets that needed to be washed, your closet spilling out onto the floor in the corner.

A knock on the door stirred you from your stupor. You frowned, gliding down the hallway and opening the door without looking at who it was. Bob stood wearing a pair of chinos and a short sleeved polo tucked into it. You felt severely underdressed in a pair of satin pajama shorts and a thin tank top that you were almost positive showed your nipples. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “Dr. Floyd.”

“Dr. James,” he replied. “Is now a bad time?”

“Only if you’re morally opposed to mess,” you said, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Bob stepped into the narrow hallway. Under the dim lighting of the broken fixture, he looked pale, a little drawn. He peered around the corner into the living room. “Sorry to impose.”

“I’m still getting settled,” you admitted, grabbing a cardigan and yanking it on before brushing off a set of towels from the couch. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?”

“If it’s not a bother.”

“If you drink wine then it won’t be a bother. If you want water or something archaic then we’re all out.” You grabbed a mug from the cabinet to your right and the bottle of pinot noir you had opened earlier, slopping a few inches into the mug and handing it to Bob. He took it with an unreadable face, crossing one ankle over his knee. “How can I help you?”

“My father is quite ill,” Bob said and that’s when you realized what was written all over his features but unsaid until that moment.

Fear. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He nodded solemnly. “And as part of his estate, I’m working on finalizing the details for our medical practice.”

“Ours?”

“Mine and my father’s,” he corrected. You nodded. “But it’s my understanding that when he offered you the position, it came with a partnership. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” You had a flashback to the first time you had bumped into Bradley on your first day in Willow. The paperwork that had scattered at your feet, partnership in large block letters across the top.

“Do you have that in writing?”

“No.” You took a sip of wine and folded onto the couch seat next to Bob, feet tucked up beneath your butt. “Just a verbal agreement.”

His lips pursed into a fine line. “That’s what I thought.”

“What?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together.

“According to my attorney, that’s not legally binding in the state of Georgia, so I have no requirement to uphold it.”

“Your attorney?” you asked. “You mean Bradley.”

“Bradley Bradshaw is my attorney, yes.”

“Mine, too.”

Bob frowned. “Not possible. We can’t have the same attorney on a case as plaintiff and defendant.”

“First off, since when is this a court case? Secondly, you can’t call dibs on the only lawyer in town.”

“Go to Atlanta or Macon.”

“You go to Atlanta!”

“Bradshaw has been my lawyer for a decade,” Bob countered. “Besides, he’s handling my father’s estate.”

“What estate?” you scoffed. “Three pencil erasers and an old Lincoln Continental?”

“It’s a Subaru Forester.”

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously, Floyd, are we going to fight over this?”

“If by this you mean my medical practice, then yes,” he answered. “This is my life’s work, Olive. It’s all I’ve ever known. And it’s mine.”

“It was promised to me, too.”

“Why the hell would you want it?” he demanded, eyes blazing. “You’re a New Yorker. You don’t belong here and you never will. Why are you pretending you’re planning to stay?”

His words cut. The truth was, you had nowhere else to go. Three months ago you hadn’t known Willow existed. Now, it was the only place that knew who you were. The only place that might miss you when you were gone.

Bob stood up, placing his mug of wine untouched on the table. “This was a mistake,” he said. “Coming here tonight. I should have just done this at the office.”

You scrambled to your feet, cardigan falling from your fingertips, exposing your sheer top. Bob’s eyes traveled down and his cheeks blushed, hard. You stood your ground. “What can I do to convince you that I’m here for good?”

“I don’t know, Olive,” Bob said softly, turning toward the door. “All I know is I’m running out of time to figure this out. And I can’t wait around to see if you’re going to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Bob opened the rickety front door and stepped outside, one large hand on the knob to stop it from closing. He turned back, his eyes locked on yours. “We’ll see about that.”

***

“I look ridiculous.” You tugged on the hem of your white nurses uniform dress. “I can’t believe you convinced me to wear this.”

“It’s hilarious,” Phoenix said, stepping out of the car in a pair of form fitting jeans. “You’re dressed as a nurse but you’re really a doctor. It’s theatrical.”

“It’s slutty.”

“Sorry to admit it, Olive, but your regular outfits aren’t much better.”

“Hey!”

She laughed. “Sorry Doc.”

“How come you get to wear pants?”

“I’m Beth Dutton,” she said, frowning. “You know, cowgirl shit.”

You shook your head. “I could have worn pants.”

“Be happy you’re hot,” Phoenix said, linking her arm in yours and tugging you toward the front door.

The Flannerys house was what you’d expect old Southern money to look like. It was essentially Tara, minus the carrot. Giant white pillars holding up a roof over a wide wraparound porch. Enormous jack-o-lanterns peppered the stairs on either side, faux spider webs hanging from the pillars, lights illuminating all of the windows inside as music pumped through the house. You looked over at Phoenix with wide eyes. “This is a house?”

“This is Poe’s Run,” she said. “Been in the Flannery family for two hundred and fifty years.”

“Jesus,” you whispered under your breath. “And Floyd gave up marrying into this because?”

“For his sanity,” Phoenix said. “Charlotte is a certified psycho.”

“Oh yeah, that.”

“Just stick with me and you’ll be good,” Phoenix said as the two of you reached the bottom of the long white staircase. You milled around couples and groups, Phoenix smiling and nodding as you passed. The chill that had accompanied your arrival in Willow was dwindling, and there were even a few nods in your direction, a handful of grins.

“Doc!”

“Marvin,” you said with a smile. “How’s the leg?”

He pulled up the hem of his pants from his pirate’s costume to showcase a five-inch scar. “All better.”

You bent down, examining it visually. “No swelling or redness. No infection.” You straightened up. “Looking good. You’ll come see me if you see any changes though, right?”

“You got it.”

A hand skimmed over your low back. You turned, eyes wide. Bradley tipped his cowboy hat. “That’s a mighty short dress you got on, Doc.” You blushed. “Almost saw something only an OBGYN should see when you bent down there.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you muttered under your breath. Phoenix laughed.

“I see you’re in good hands,” she replied with a wink. “Going to get myself some of Lacey’s famous punch.”

“Watch out,” Bradley warned as Phoenix made her way through the crowd, “don’t forget about Halloween 2013!”

“Shut up!” she cried, disappearing into the crowd.

“What happened Halloween 2013?” you asked as Bradley led you to the outskirts of the room and plucked a glass of champagne off of a tray.

“Phoenix got so drunk she ended up serenading Mr. Flannery on top of the grand piano like Marilyn Monroe to JFK.”

“God, I’d pay money to see that.”

“Just slip her some vodka and you’ll see it.”

“Deal.” Bradley’s hand didn’t move from your waist as you looked up at him, sipping your drink. It fizzed on your tongue. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He said it in such a sincere way that it made your heart squeeze.

“Bob came to see me the other day. About the partnership.”

Bradley’s hand fell from your waist. You watched as his professional persona washed over him, like a transformer, bit by bit until he was in a plastic shell of an attorney.

“He said the deal I had with Dr. Floyd Sr. isn’t valid.”

Bradley sighed, setting down his glass onto a nearby table. “That’s correct. In the state of Georgia, verbal contracts are not binding.”

“Bradley,” you whispered. “I moved here for this job.”

“I know you did.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

He shook his head. “I can’t provide any guidance because I’m not your counsel.”

You set your champagne glass down, pulling out your purse and yanking a twenty out of it, shoving it into your hand. “There, now you’re my lawyer.”

“Not that simple, Olive,” he said, pressing it back into your palm. “I’m already retained by the Floyd family. I can’t represent you both.”

“You’re the only lawyer in this whole fucking town, Bradley!” Your raised voice and the cursing caught the eye of a few nearby people who craned their heads at the commotion.

“I’ll find you someone,” he promised quietly. “A few of my friends from law school ended up around here. I’ll find you an attorney, I promise.”

You frowned. “OK.”

“Let’s leave this for Monday,” he said. “It’s your first Halloween in Willow. Don’t you want to see what all that small town charm is about?” He held out his hand and you took it reluctantly, letting him pull you out into the middle of the room that had turned into a makeshift dance floor. It was easy with Bradley. He folded you against him, one large hand spread across your lower stomach, his other pressed against your hip as you swayed against him, the curve of your ass molded softly to his front. He was tall, so damn tall, and you could feel the heat from every inch of his body. And even though you had resisted his charm for months, the walls were starting to crumble. “Doc,” Bradley whispered in your ear, his fingertips gripping your waist tighter, pressing you against him so close.

“Hmm?”

Just as Bradley was about to spin you around, a commotion broke out at the far end of the room. Bob appeared dressed in a flight suit, a look of calm panic on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd before zeroing in on you and he stepped forward, taking in the way you were pressed against Bradley. “Dr. James,” he said and you could hear it in his voice.

You stepped forward, out of Bradley’s embrace. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Mr. Flannery,” he said quietly. “He’s having a heart attack.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, already mentally preparing yourself.

Bob held out his hand. “This way.” You allowed him to press his hand to your back softly, propelling you forward through the crowd, leaving Bradley in your wake.

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demontime09 · 2 months

Text

Faded - chapter 3

.•°●°•.☆☆☆.•°●°•.

_____________________________________

I wake up, my mouth dry as fuck. I groan and sit up, my sheets are a mess, Chris's clothes on the ground. I sit for a second, rubbing my eyes, yawning, and it hits me.

Chris kissed me before he left. He held my hands, told me I did good, let me cuddle him, and then he..

He kissed me. And once again I am reminded that through everything, even with his problems and his troublesome actions, I know he cares about me. And that is enough for me to stay.

I get up, order breakfast, make coffee, and while eating I notice we never finished the joint. It's sitting in my ash stray completely put out. "That doesn't make sense. That was- that's his weed." I thought. I creep over and see, a note?? "Finish this off for me, ma. -C" I can't help but smile cheesily.

It's just like Chris to gift me leftover weed.

My phone chimes. It's my friend Eve.

"Theres a party tonight

at my place Char,

ur man might be there too"

"Thanks but I might skip"

Read 12:13

My shoulders slump. I always hate letting down my friends but partying with Chris means I'll have to take care of him and ill be anxious all night. Which isn't all bad, I do love making sure hes all right. I'd just rather pick him up and do it in my own home.

My phone chimes again.

"Cmon Char, we miss you."

I huff out a sigh, I miss them too.

"Okay you've

convinced me, what time?"

Chris's POV

I have 0 clue where I am. My eyes focus on the object in front of me. Furry.. gray, it squeaks. My face scrunches as I sit up, disgusted. UGH that's like the biggest rat I've ever seen in my life. I find my footing, the pounding pain in my head worsening. Where's Charlotte with a glass of water and medicine when I need her. Charlotte. Where is Charlotte? At home I assume. I feel my pants for my phone, it's not there. I panic for a second before I see it on the ground a few feet away.

It takes about 30 seconds for my eyes to focus on my phone and 30 more seconds for my thumbs to move across the screen. I'm definitely high.. when did I get high? I blink a bunch and as I'm about to call Char my phone chimes. It's my old friend Eve from highschool.

Eve

Chris come to my party tonight.

Char will be there.

Alr

Read 12:30

Oh god Charlotte, she's all I need right now.

She'll know what to do, I think as I stumble back to my car.

I call her as soon as I'm sat in the driver's seat.

"Hello?"

"You home?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm coming over, I need some help ma."

And with that I hang up and almost speed to her house.

Before i get there, I pick up a bottle of rum and scotch, my favorites. Along with a huge can of pepsi. Why not start the party a little early?

I'm smart enough not to drink while driving, but as soon as I get into Charlotte's house I'm mixing my drink and chugging it to dull the pain in my head. She tiptoes out to me, looking as gorgeous as ever, but I'd never say that out loud.

I kiss her lazily on the temple. "Hey ma" "what do you need help with?" She immediately asks. Straight to the point, classic Char. "I jus' don't feel great and I need to be okay for that party tonight" I cringe at how needy I sound but Charlotte's eyes brighten immediately. "What kind of help?" She asks gently.

The alcohol must take affect very fast because before I know it my lips make contact with hers as my hand grabs the back of her head. I tilt it back to get a better angle as my other arm snakes around her waist, and then on her ass, and the back of her thighs. We smash against the fridge and she yelps on impact.

I pull back, nod toward the bedroom, my chest heaving. She looks a mess but it's so so hot. I take her hand and lead her there, where I spend the next 30 minutes inside her. She takes me from behind like she always does, I'm not an intimacy guy. And once I'm done she doesn't try to ask for aftercare or cuddle. She lays there for a short time before cleaning herself up, redressing, and waiting for my next move.

"Um, yk ma, I wish I could stick around but I-" "I know." She cuts me off. Her face neutral. "Alright, I'll see you at that party later then.." she smiles, her eyes tired. I leave quickly and for the 1 thousandth time, cuss myself out for not being different for her.

Authors note :3

Don't start complaining abt how the sex scene had no detail, there will be more. 😈😈

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sl-newsie · 2 months

Text

The Secret Ingredient (Willy Wonka (2023) x Fickelgruber Daughter) Chapter 4: All For You

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/747510006135554048/the-secret-ingredient-willy-wonka-2023-x?source=share

The next day I leap out of bed and race down to grab a quick breakfast. In my haste I almost don’t find it odd to see Mr. Snickers sitting at the table.

“Good morning, Charlotte. I’m sorry that you weren’t able to attend yesterday’s lesson.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Snickers. I hope you didn’t waste yesterday by coming here.” I try to sound genuinely disappointed while I devour my eggs.

“Actually… The day went rather swimmingly. Lottie and I spent the time talking about poetry.”

My eyes light up. “No kidding? That’s fantastic!”

A new idea pops into my head and I reach inside my pocket. The purple Wonka chocolate gleams in the lamplight when I hold it up to him.

“Here. You have to try this!”

Mr. Snickers distrustfully looks at the candy but still picks it up. He pops it in his mouth and immediately the taste kicks in.

“Oh my. This is amazing! Pardon my boldness but this can’t be your fathers, is it?”

“No sir, it’s Wonka chocolate.” I lean in and whisper: “Can you keep it a secret?”

My teacher gives a sly wink. “Won’t tell a soul.”

Lottie walks by and it seems that Willy’s invention has given Mr. Snickers a leap of faith. He stands up and follows after her, and I take that as a sign to leave.

“Miss! You haven’t done your hair properly!” Lottie tsks.

She’s right. But a simple bun will suffice.

“I can go without my usual curls for one day,” I assure her and grab my coat.

“I assume you’re going off again?” I hear behind me.

“I can’t back out now, Lottie. They need my help. It’s the least I can do for what the chocolatiers have put Willy through. And that chocolate…” My eyes close and my tongue tingles at the memory of the delectable sweet. “His chocolate is heavenly!”

“I’ll attest to that!” Mr. Snickers agrees. “Also, Ms. Lottie, if you aren’t busy later-”

Time to go!

After hurrying down the dumbwaiter and into the familiar bustling crowds. Am I supposed to meet them by the bridge again? In my awkward haste last night I failed to establish today’s agenda with Willy. What if-

“Charlotte! Over here!”

Thank goodness for Noodle! I spot her waving from a produce wagon. Is it just me or does she look slightly more cheeky than usual?

“Morning, Noodle! Sleep well?”

“Pretty good. Were you looking for Willy?” She asks teasingly. “I know you like him.”

My face goes pink. “Shh! Don’t say such things! How can anyone not like Willy? Aside from my father and the other chocolatiers, that is.”

“No, you like him,” Noodle grins. “I can tell. You’re just like one of the characters in the book I read. Why don’t you tell him?”

I try to push it off but she keeps tugging at my sleeve. “I’m just trying to help!”

“Yeah. And you love him.”

“I don’t know anything about love, Noodle. My adventure doesn’t have a love chapter. I’m just here to help.”

The girl lets out a hum. “Do you think you’re also here to help Willy with something besides selling chocolate? You do know he doesn’t have any family, right?”

I stop in my tracks. “No family? I thought his mother-”

“She died,” Noodle answers softly. “But Willy never lets anything get him down. He always tries to make everyone laugh.”

I take in her words. “Wants to make everyone happy with his chocolate. Doesn’t he ever stop and take a moment for himself?”

Noodle shrugs. “Not since I’ve known him. Oh! There he is now!”

She points down the street to where Willy is just getting off a streetcar. Once again the crowd is adoring his chocolate and bursting into song. Even the couple from yesterday is singing along!

“Well, there's chocolate,

And there's chocolate.”

Willy tips his hat at the couple. “Only mine'll find you buying wedding frockelets!”

“We have just tied the knot and it's

All because of Wonka's chocolate!

Off to a life of bliss!”

“You've never had chocolate like this!”

“No, we've never had chocolate like this!”

If this chocolate can cause wedded bliss then surely it can conquer the conspiracy against Willy! I have to warn him.

“Ah, Charlotte!” The man beams as he walks up.

Noodle chuckles. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

“Good to see you’re back!” Willy smiles warmly. “Ready to sell more chocolate?”

“First thing’s first. Willy, I need to tell you something. Last night I overheard the big three talking about running you out of town. They’re in cahoots with the police chief!”

I expect Willy to share my concern but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“That means we’re winning! But thanks for telling me. Hmm…” He studies my face, oblivious to how awkward I am at eye contact. “You seem troubled. Here!” Willy pulls out a small truffle from his pocket. “Try a Troubless Truffle! It does just as it sounds: take your troubles away! Or at least help make them go away. Actually all chocolate does that.”

I truly want to believe him, but when has my life ever not had trouble?

“Thank you, I appreciate it. But candy never makes my problems go away.”

Willy gawks and gets a wild look in his eye. “I don’t care what the problem is. Chocolate is always the answer,” he answers in a sincere tone.

I bite my lip. Chocolate doesn’t create love. “You know what you want in life. A mission to sell chocolate. To bless the world with your creations. I have no inkling about what I’m here for.”

Willy opens his mouth to answer but a call from Piper tells us we need to get going. She’s right, this isn’t important-

“Be right there!” Willy answers and then turns back to me. “Charlotte, you have so much potential. You’re the heir to Fickelgruber chocolate! You can help people.”

His wide eyes are so encouraging. How is my heart still in my chest? Breathe!

“My father won’t see it that way,” I murmur. “Besides I’m not even sure I really will inherit the business.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I- I…” Suddenly the floor looks very interesting. “I don’t know, Willy. I know I want to help but I’m not sure how. I guess I’m just… me.”

In the corner of my eye I see Willy step closer and feel a hand placed on my shoulder.

“You being you is wonderful, Charlotte. I-”

“Come on!” Piper belts and we both jump. “We have something to show you!”

Willy and I exchange looks and take off sprinting. Piper beckons us behind the corner and we follow her back to where I just came from. The Galeries Gourmet?

“What are we doing here?” I ask. “If someone sees us they’ll call the cops!”

“No they won’t!” Larry pokes his head out from behind a column.

“Because…” Abacus trails off and the Scrubbits’ gang gestures to an empty lot.

That’s been there for years. No telling what condition it’s in. Sometimes I think Slugworth keeps it open just to give newcomers false hope.

“Guess we’re gonna be neighbors.” Willy nudges my shoulder.

My jaw drops. “Wait a minute. You bought the lot? You have your own store? This is wonderful!”

I forget to restrain myself and wrap Willy into a big hug. He’s just as surprised but also is laughing with joy. At last! This world can witness his magic and marvel at his magnificent creations!

Piper opens the door and we all step inside. Dreary. Gray. Run-down. Tattered. There’s a hole in the ceiling and dead leaves are falling in. This isn’t exactly the prime spot to start a business-

“It’s perfect!” Willy splendors and twirls around, taking it all in. “This is the place! Let’s get started!” He snaps his fingers and points outside to the nearby janitor. “Think he can spare some cleaning equipment, Charlotte?”

“Mr. Jax? Yeah, I think he might help us. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Splendid! Give him these!” Willy tosses me a small jar of chocolates.

The others begin clearing away the debris and I rush outside on my new errand. “Mr. Jax! Mr. Jax! Would you mind if we borrowed your cart?”

The older gentleman turns his head and grins. “Why, Ms. Fickelgruber! What brings you here? I’m surprised your old man let you out.”

I hope my face doesn’t look too sheepish. “Well, actually…”

“Ah, I see! Off on an exciting adventure, are we?” Mr. Jax chuckles. “It wouldn’t happen to be with that charming Wonka lad, would it? My my, it reminds me of when I was a lad and would chase Dot around the park. We-”

“Forgive me Mr. Jax, but we’re kind of on a tight schedule,” I hint.

“Of course! Here, child.” He pushes his cart to me. “Best of luck!”

I thank him and pass over the colorful chocolates to his delight. After hurrying back to the store Willy greets me with a big smile.

“Spectacular! Now let’s get to work!”

It takes the rest of the week to clean out the shop. On top of that we have to wait for the rest of the ingredients stock to arrive and put the finishing touches on the decorations. On the bright side the crew’s new uniforms came on time! The night before the grand opening Willy, Noodle, and I take one last look at everyone’s hard work.

“It’s beautiful, Willy.”

“People are gonna love this!” Noodle gushes.

“Time for shut eye,” Willy yawns. “Can’t sell chocolate in our sleep. Unless…”

Noodle and I roll our eyes and I bonk the top of his hat.

“Save it for tomorrow, candy man. Let’s go.” Noodle starts off for the exit.

Willy shakes himself out of a trance. “Oh, alright. I’ll lock up.”

Noodle skips ahead and I linger at the door. I really hope dad doesn’t go too hard on him. Now that Willy’s business is official then they’re going to fight tooth-and-nail to make him lose.

“Hopefully tomorrow goes as well as it can,” I try to sound optimistic.

Willy locks the door and slides the key under his hat. His eyes light up and I swear his smile is contagious. “Have faith, Charlotte. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. Thank you for all your help.”

Has he been this close the whole time? Almost as if an invisible force is pulling on us. Maybe there is hope in this world. Willy’s undying dream proves it. Maybe I can find my dream too.

I fight my heart and offer a soft smile before inching away. “Goodnight, Willy.”

He blinks once and his own dopey smile copies mine. Willy tips his hat and points to my father’s shop. “I might come visit sometime! You’re always welcome here too.”

Alright, I need to leave before this sweet man makes me swoon. Get it together, Charlotte! He’s excited about his dream. Don’t spoil it with your own crazy ideas of grandeur romance.

I sneak back to the front door and Lottie appears from the shadows. Is it just me or does she look a smidgen happier?

“Just in time! Your father’s not through with his meeting yet. Straight upstairs to bed!”

All I can do is dreamily nod in response and all but float up the stairs.

(Tightrope from The Greatest Showman)

“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned,

Tied with a ribbon.

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land,

To follow what's written.

But I'd follow you to the great unknown.

Off to a world we call our own.”

Upstairs I draw a quick bath and shimmy into a fresh nightgown. How has my life’s changed so much since Willy’s showed up? As if flipping a switch? I hope he’s right. I really wish I knew what life wants me to do. We don’t know how tomorrow will go. How far we could fall.

I creep to my bedroom window and open the window to let in the crisp winter air. It fills my nostrils and helps to clear my senses.

This adventure is what I chose. I risk it all just to be with him, for a life with him. No matter how tomorrow goes, I’ll stand by him.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #wonka movie #wonka x reader #arthur slugworth #felix fickelgruber #gerald prodnose #timothee chalamet #calah lane #willy wonka and the chocolate factory

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acetone4veins · 6 months

Text

Mean Girls + Quotes Part 2

Find part 1 here

More quotes that remind me of mean girls characters and their various relationships :)

Regina

"i became bitter and untouchable. i craved affection but even the mere thought of someone caring made my stomach turn."

unknown

"i have survived everything but i fear that i cannot survive myself."

Cynthia Chapman

"was i raised without love? or was i born unlovable?"

unknown

"am i lonely because no one cares, or am i lonely because i'm not strong enough to let anyone get close enough to care?"

Rob Hill Sr.

"of course i look angry all the time. my entire life i've been fighting a war. i am soaked in pain and sadness. the irony however, is that i'm not actually angry, i'm trying to learn how to be happy. and that in itself is a war."

unknown

Cady

"i thought - i want to go home. i want to be in a place that feels like home. where that was, i did not know."

Katie Kitamura

"i understood myself only after i destroyed myself. and only in the process of fixing myself did i know who i really was."

Sade Andria Zabala

“do you ever wonder where you took a wrong turn? where your life became the exact opposite of what you wanted it to be?”

unknown

"i have always tried to make a home for myself, but i have not felt at home in myself."

Jeanette Winterson

Janis

"of course i'm angry. do you have any idea how many times someone should have helped me?"

unknown

"hurt an artist and you'll see masterpieces of what you've done."

unknown

"i don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though i may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful."

Susan Sontag

Gretchen

"what a sick little head, your love always turns into obsession."

unknown

"i don't think people love me. they love versions of me i have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. the easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love."

unknown

“i only know how to exist when i’m wanted.”

Mary Lambert

"i don't want to beg. i know you can feel it, my longing, the aching, my need for love. i don't want to beg. but oh god - oh god, please. please. love me. love me."

unknown

"for once i need to choose myself, or else i'm going to lose myself."

Veronika Jensen

Karen

“i believe in some blending of hope and sunshine sweetening the worst lots. i believe that this life is not all; neither the beginning nor the end. i believe while i tremble; i trust while i weep.”

Charlotte Brontë

Regina and Janis

"longing, how soft a word for such a ravenous feeling. how we hunger in silence."

Pavana

"dig your teeth into me. come on, i dare you. take a bite. open me up; raw and candy floss pink on the inside. make it hurt. i figure, you're going to hurt me one way or another. might as well be with your mouth."

Ashe Vernon

"i don't know what to do without you, i don't know where to put my hands."

unknown

"you are the knife i turn inside myself; that is love."

Franz Kafka

"i love you and i always will and i am sorry. what a useless word."

Ernest Hemingway

Regina and Cady

"i love you. i love you unconditionally. i loved you even in my ignorance. i loved you when i didn't even know. i just love you."

unknown

"and on some days, i wish our paths had never crossed because you don't know how heartbreaking it is to know that someone like you exists in this world and i cannot have you."

unknown

“i must have you exclusively, fiercely, possessively.”

Henry Miller

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do."

William C. Hannan

“fuck my pride. fuck everything. i’m so desperately hungry for you.”

Henry Miller

Gretchen and Karen

"the way our fingers intertwine feels so natural and right; as if our hands hold memories of meeting in a thousand other lifetimes."

John Mark Green

"when i think of life, i think of you. when i think of love, i think of you. safe to say that i really like thinking about life with you."

unknown

"come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can't just stand on it."

Dino Ahmetovic

Regina and Gretchen

"i suffer in my loving, and you know it."

Willa Cather

"i loved you to the point of ruin. i loved you until my lungs were filled with ash."

Tina Tran

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wolfoftheblackflames · 6 months

Text

Hello my misfits, here's what you've all been waiting for! Enjoy the meal =3 (Also don't be afraid of leaving a comment or two, I'd love to chat ^^)

Dancing with the Devil: Pt.4

Charlie was lucky the location was in Pride since she knew sinners like Vaggie weren't able to leave the ring. She looked annoyed slightly since the paparazzi were taking pictures of the various nobles coming into the large castle-like building. She dreaded the inevitable, but walked into the brightly lit area with her head held high.

Vaggie, however, kept a watchful eye since there was no telling when someone wanted to start shit. “The less we see of the Von Eldritch family, the better.” She heard Charlie mutter clearly dreading the encounter.

“Hmm, is that Lucifer's daughter? And she's with someone else this time?” A noble woman commented as Vaggie felt Charlie squeeze her hand.

“Seems like the princess has acquired the taste for the opposite sex. Perhaps this is just a ploy to make the young lord jealous and take her back.” Another noble woman sneered with a wicked grin.

“Could've picked a better looking whore than that small thing.”

That was it, the comment that made Charlie dig her sharpened claws into her own palm. “Those bitches…” She snarled softly hearing the two noble assholes laugh.

This surprised Vaggie who was all to ready to stab those noble fucks with her spear which she had left at home by mistake. “Charlie?” She lightly touched Charlie's arm making those eyes look at her. From ruby with yellow to white with red, those were the eyes of a demon. “Easy ok, come on let's go find a quieter spot hon.”

Charlie clenched her jaw slightly but followed Vaggie. It pissed her off that those two women back there got off easily. “Jerks…” She growled but blinked, noticing that once the two sat down outside in a rather nice garden area, Vaggie was holding that tightly clenched fist.

“Let me have a look.” How easy it was for the angel to get Charlie to unclench her fist with just that soft gentle tone. “Oh Charlie…” That ivory gaze landed on the small puncture wounds those claws had caused.

“Sorry… I just hated hearing how they were talking about you…” The princess massaged the area on her own head where the horns threatened to come out.

Then that anger vanished once Charlie felt a soft kiss come onto her palm. “Thank you, but seriously if I had my spear right now, those two bitches would be a very tacky kebab.” She saw that evil smirk that crept its way onto Vaggie's face.

The demoness was stunned by the gesture. Sure, Vaggie had comforted her a dozen of times, but this, it felt like a firework had gone off. A fresh shade of red blush decorated Charlie's rosy cheeks as she started to giggle. “I love it when you get feisty.” She stated and repaid the gesture with a soft kiss to Vaggie's forehead.

The comment made Vaggie start to sizzle slightly, her face looking like a lantern right now with how gold it was. Though what sent her mind into a giant gay panic was those lips that had been planted on her forehead. It made her imagine what those would feel like on her own. “Vaggie hello?” Charlie called as she blinked innocently tilting her head.

What snapped the angel back was a sneer followed by a deep male voice. “Oh how cute, I dumped you so you've turned to pussy to get over me? I guess you can't exactly find a great dick to replace mine.” He smirked, his neon green eyes narrowing slightly.

Charlie slowly turned to the speaker. Her eyes widening. “Seviathan..?” Her voice came out in a soft growl.

“In the flesh baby.” The taller man grinned looking amused. “Whoa!” He laughed seeing Vaggie move to be between the two tall demons.

“I really don't like your tone, maldito idiota..” (Fucking prick) She snarled her voice sounding already done with this guy.

“Wow where did you pick this one up Charlotte, I wouldn't mind getting me a whore like her.” Seviathan smirked, brushing back his dark green hair with grey roots, his eyes leering at Vaggie. That all changed to shock when a knife whizzed past his cheek, cutting it as red dripped down his face. “Fucking bitch, you cut my face!” He snapped his eyes glowing.

The tall big chad of a man wearing his neon green suit was soon decked hard in the face when he tried to grab Vaggie. “Don't fucking touch her…” Charlie's voice came out in a vicious growl. She was already upset with the comments thrown at Vaggie before, but then this scum tries to touch her, fuck no. Flames slowly started to circle Charlie as her red horns stood up freely, with her long black tail with spikes and a triangular tip swished back and forth irritated. “And for the record I broke it off with you because you were basically making me uncomfortable with the sexual harassment. I'm not some fucking trophy, I don't owe you anything, and I only spared your ugly ass because we alongside Helsa were friends…”

Seviathan slowly got up, rubbing his swollen cheek. He snarled but then smirked. “You really have changed. I'll forgive this little stunt once Charlotte only because we used to be friends.” He sneered with a small laugh. The host soon went back to his own dates as Charlie seethed, watching him go.

(Wolf here once again. I hope you guys like my take on some info I found. One said Vaggie does have knives on her but doesn't know how she pulls them out. The other is that Seviathan excludes "big chad jerk" energy, anyway, thanks for reading! ^^)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #cute as fuck #pre canon #seviathan von eldritch #dancing #starmoth #awkward vaggie is fun #flustered charlie is fun #angry charlie is badass #angry Vaggie is badass #ballroom dancing

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seraphtrevs · 11 days

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Since I’m a huge fan of your writing, I’m curious: who are some your favorite writers and what are some of your favorite books or short stories??

Oh man, I've done so much reading over my life that it's hard to narrow down. Like I'm for sure going to leave people out.

For fiction: some of my favorite authors are the Bronte sisters (slight preference for Charlotte - Jane Eyre was one of my first loves and hugely shaped me as a reader and a writer), Daphne du Maurier (favorite of her books - Rebecca), Sarah Waters (can't decide between Fingersmith and The Paying Guests), Angela Carter (The Bloody Chamber), Susanna Clarke (Jonathon Strange and Mr Norell), Toni Morrison (Beloved), Robin Hobb (the Farseer trilogy and Fitz's further adventures, but I've heard good things about the Liveship Trader books!), Terry Pratchett (the Tiffany Aching books are particular favorites), and Anne Rice (well, depending on the book tbh, she's not very consistent lol - the first three Vampire Chronicle books are my favs from her), with special shout-outs to Robin McKinley (Beauty), Avi (The True Confession of Charlotte Doyle), LM Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables), Frank L Baum (I have read every single Oz book - there are a ton of them!) and Madeleine L'Engle (A Wrinkle in Time), who were my favs when I was a kid (along with the Babysitter's Club book lol - but they're mostly ghostwritten so I'm not sure who to credit!)

Right now, I'm re-reading (for the millionth time) The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, which is a collection of fairy tale retellings - but that feels like a really inadequate way to describe it. It's very visceral, primal, and poetic. My favorite story from the collection is "The Bloody Chamber," which is a Bluebeard retelling. Bluebeard is one of my favorite fairy tales, but it understandably doesn't get a lot of adaptation. (I'm very curious what Disney's Bluebeard would look like lmao)

I'm also listening to the audiobook of The Vampire Lestat, which is the reason that Anne Rice is on that list. She really lost me with her later books, but listening to TVL reminded me that actually, she can be very good! She really excels at evocative descriptions and conveying emotion - she's very shameless, in a good way. A woman who always writes with her entire pussy, whatever else you might say about her.

But I actually read more nonfiction than fiction. I'm a big fan of memoirs - not celebrity memoirs (although Jennette McCurdy's I'm Glad My Mom Died was probably my favorite book I've read this year), but memoirs that are more about someone grappling with the human experience - like, sometimes the author has been through something horrible and they've done a lot of mediation on what they've been through, or sometimes the author is just a very astute and entertaining observer of their own (and other people's) ridiculousness. Some of my favorites are Mary Karr, Caroline Knapp, David Sedaris, Cheryl Strayed, Jeanette Walls, Tara Westover, and Allie Brosh.

If I had to pick one to recommend - all of David Sedaris's books are extremely funny. He writes humorous personal essays, so I guess his books aren't really memoirs exactly (google says he's a humorist), but he usually writes about himself so I'm lumping him in this category lol. Me Talk Pretty One Day is a good place to start with his stuff - you will cry laughing.

I also love pop science and pop history - Mary Roach is a super approachable science writer with a quirky sense of humor. Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers is so funny and candid - she asks every question you've ever had about dead bodies and then some. I also love Bill Bryson - another very accessible and funny writer - I really loved his A Short History of Nearly Everything, which covers exactly what it says. I ADORE Oliver Sacks - he was a neurologist who wrote so movingly about what it means to be human through the experiences of his patients - The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat reads more like a book of short stories, and I weep like a baby every time I read it (I actually started tearing up thinking of a few cases.) (Btw he's also written beautiful memoirs but I like his science writing best so I'm putting him here. Bill Bryson has written memoir too.) Carl Sagan is also approachable and humane - This Demon Haunted World is my favorite of his. Andrew Solomon's The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression is required reading for anyone who's dealt with mental illness, although it's difficult and painful at times (his Far From the Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity is also really good, but also difficult and painful - but worth it!)Diane Ackerman's A Natural History of the Senses has gorgeous prose and is a great book for artists and writers imo - it gets you thinking deeply about how we interact with the world.

For history, I am obsessed with this book called "The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity by David Graeber and David Wengrow - it will completely upend everything you think you know about the history of homo sapians. Mike Duncan got his start podcasting - his series Revolutions is about major world revolutions and is essentially like listening to an audiobook, so it's not a surprise his books are pretty fun too. Sarah Vowell has some really fun books about quirky historical topics - her Assassination Vacation is great (she goes on a roadtrip to visit locations in America where famous assassinations took place).

And here are a few other miscellaneous non-fiction writers I enjoy - Sebastian Junger (just finished his In My Time of Dying about his near death experience - super thought-provoking - but it was A Perfect Storm that made me love him), Hunter S. Thompson (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), Jon Krakauer (Into the Wild), Jon Ronson (The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry)

This was a fun question to think about! I hadn't realized I had such a strong preference for female writers until I actually listed all my favs out, which is an interesting thing to know about myself, so thanks for asking!

#i feel so basic for my favorites usually being their most favorite work lol #but like - they're the most famous for a reason!#asks #books

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melanieph321 · 1 year

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Beautiful Liar Part 3/3

Okay, since the last chapter of this fic takes a dark turn, I feel the need to issue out a warning of violence. Although we know that the Ruben that we all love ain't like the one I'm writing about, I was curious to explore his character a bit in this one.

I hope you enjoy!

She was still at your apartment, Rubens wife. Well into the late hours. You spent the day crying in each others arms. Once the two of you were done crying over a lying cheat, you two settled down on the couch to talk things out.

"He said I was worth it, his one desire." God you felt so stupid for falling for it, falling for him.

"I know things about Ruben that you wouldn't want to read about. But he was my first love, my husband. We got married when we were fairly young, fresh out of high school. I've trusted him all my life but when I saw you today I understood that the rumors were true. "

You were wrong. You thought you and Ruben had managed to keep the relationship unknown from your coworkers, but apparently somone, perhaps Rubens friends, found out about it and told his wife.

"Please tell me how you could possibly forgive me, when it's me who is ashamed?"

"The answer is simple." Charlotte said, wiping her tears with a napkin. "He's the one to blame."

"Ruben?"

"He had us both fooled."

"But why are we the once to suffer?" You balled up your fist. "He won't be the one to cry."

"Perhaps it's not worth the drama for a beautiful liar."

Charlotte was stronger than you, you thought. If you ever came face to face with Ruben again you had no idea what could happen. You might kill him on sight?

"I know, I just wish I could free you from the hurt and the pain." You said, walking her to the front door. Compared to you she had more stake in this. Her realationship with Ruben was fully fledged. She was his wife and he was her husband. You were just some home wrecking mistress.

"Like I said Y/N, he's the one to blame, not us."

You nodded understandingly, although you were blaming yourself pretty bad at that moment.

"Are you going back home?" She looked exhausted. So were you.

"Yes, to get my things. I'll stay with my parents until I figure out what's next."

You nodded "Good.", and with that you said goodbye to each other.

The next day came a bit too fast for your liking but you were determined to keep your head down and go about your day perusual.

"Y/N?"

That is, until Ruben stepped into your office, shutting the door behind him.

"Out! Out now!"

You rose from your chair.

"Y/N please." Ruben held up his hands in defense. "Let me explain."

"Explain!" You hissed. The office walls were thin and it wouldn't be to your advantage to cause a scene. After all, Ruben was cozier with the boss than you.

"What's there for you to explain Ruben. You've been fucking me by day only to go home to your pregnant wife at night."

"You've met her?" He said. His voice lower than usual.

"Of course I have. She was at the apartment the other day when I went to get my purse. What did you think, that I heard about your pregnant wife from someone in the office? I know I'm fairly new here but I'm surprised no one mentioned her before."

"Y/N, please hear me out before you judge me."

"Trust me I'm done judging." You chuckled. Mind you that your voice was getting louder than you intended. Ruben was the one desperate to keep things non hostile between the two of you.

"I'm glad she's leaving you Ruben. She deserves so much better."

"What?" He frowned, somthing frightened about the way his jaw clenched.

"Why would she stay? Who would want to build a family with a man like you? A liar, a pathetic liar!"

"What did you tell her?" He snapped. "What did you do?"

You jumped behind behind your desk, but did not move quick enough to avoid Ruben coming around and backing you up against the glass window. Your back slammed against it, vibrating the entire office.

He had your head pinned between his hands, his knee tucked between your thigh.

"Ruben, please."

You felt the air in your lungs tighten as his trembling hand gripped around your throat.

"Don't ever call me that again." He said, through gritted teeth. He was unrecognizable. A complete menace. A side he's been hiding from you.

"I know things about Ruben that you wouldn't want to read about."

Those had been his wives words. Perhaps this was what she meant?

"Did you hear me, don't ever call me that fucking word again."

"A liar."

You had to fight to get the words out, with Rubens tight grip around your throat, but as he had you pinned to the wall he heard you loud and clear.

"What did you say?"

"You're a liar Ruben. A sick and twisted beautiful liar."

He looked enraged and excited at the same time. He often liked it when you gave him a fight. He had shown you this many times before.

"Ruben please."

His hands traveled down your leg, tugging at your skirt, pulling the fabric up and above your waist.

You were ashamed of the heat you felt between your thighs. You often were ashamed during the times you tried to resist him but couldn't and getting kinky in the office was somthing you and Ruben had done more times than you wanted to admit.

"Ruben stop it, I'm mad at you."

"You can be mad and still take my cock." He groaned, turning you around to face the window. You looked down to see people the size of ants, walking down the street, having no idea what was going on above their heads.

Ruben was rougher when he was mad but not in a way that frightened you. You pitied him more than anything.

"Don't...ever...call...me...that...again! Don't...ever...call...me...that...again!"

He fucked you senseless. His childlike anger unleashing with every senseless thrust.

"You're a fucking liar Ruben." Eventually your folds clenched around him, with you slumping down, back against the wall. He slid down next to you, leaning his limb body against your shoulder.

"This is goodbye Ruben. I mean it." You were tired and your offer to change offices still stood.

"I know." He said, voice weak and pitiful. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to." You pushed yourself away from him, fighting to get back on your feet. You left him there sobbing over his pathetic little lies. But that's what he deserved. That beautiful, beautiful liar.

#fanfiction #manchester city #man city #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias #football imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #footballer imagine #football x reader #football #Beyonce Beyonce #shakira shakira

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theonewhospeaksinweird · 10 months

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🖤💜Protecting (Charlotte Katakuri x Female!Reader) Pt. 2💜🖤

💚 = Lime/Lil Spicy

💛 = Lemon

💙 = Sad

❤️ = Angsty (won't do many of these unless prompted)

💜 = Fluff

💔 = Heartbreak (rare unless prompted)

🖤 = Normal

I KNOW it's been at least 2 months since I posted the first part of this, but here it is!~ I love Katakuri sooo much, if you couldn't tell, and I just kept writing, so this turned into a 3 parter!~ But BEFORE you curse my existence and get your Mogura, I already have it done!~ Literally fully completed, I just have to post it after this one.~ And I decided that your reward for waiting so long for this series was some ✨spicy✨ times.~ So expect that in part 3.~ Also, I'm so shocked at the amount of likes I got on the first part??~ Almost 70 likes??~ You guys are too much.~ Hope you like it!~ Mwah mwah, darlings!~

Part 1 <- - Part 2 - -> Part 3

Dread set in as everyone realized the untimely situation. We still had to deal with Bege and the Strawhats, and the last thing we needed was a raging Big Mom. I felt Katakuri's grip tighten on me as I let my emotions drift into him. I was scared and tired, wanting nothing more than to stay in my husband's strong and safe arms. Perospero stood there, thinking of a plan, and when his gaze landed on me, he perked up. He seemed reluctant to ask me due to Katakuri's possessive hold on me, but when our eyes met I had an idea of what he wanted from me. This was part of my job in the family, to help Mama calm down during her hunger pangs even if it was dangerous.

"Ah, Y/N? I'm sorry to ask this of you after the kind of day you've had, but", a nervous glance to Katakuri whose intense gaze slid to him the moment he addressed me, "would you help me out in calming Mama down? I have an idea that might work, but she seems a bit angrier than usual this time around, lick." Perospero's confidence dwindled the longer he stood under Katakuri's piercing gaze until I lifted my hand to lay it on my husband's shoulder. He focused on my soft face and quietly huffed before kneeling down to gently place me on my feet. Before he could make any threats, I snuck a quick peck on his nose, and grabbed Perospero's hand to run off.

"Kekeke, quite the little minx you've become with our brother.~" He glances back. "He's become a lickity blushing mess.~ I can tell even if he pulls up his scarf.~" A large wail followed by a nearby building being crushed brought us back to the grim reality of our task. Perospero put up a candy wall to keep us from being crushed as he explained his plan.

"We have three major problems right now and Mama is one of them. Katakuri is going to ambush the Strawhats on their ship while some of our brothers and sisters go after Bege. I want to get rid of Strawhat first and foremost, so let's set Mama's sights on him by telling her he has her wedding cake. This will give us a little time to figure out how to make the cake, though. . .", he trails off and tugs at his collar, "you know how Mama is with people who lie to her. Even if it's one of us. So, if this doesn't work out, you and I will be killed by Mama if that cake isn't made in time." That fact made me nervous, but Perospero looked even more scared than I felt. Mama liked me well enough, but I know she wouldn't think twice about killing me since I've seen her kill some of her own children before. As much as I loved Katakuri, that was something I hated about his mother. My gaze drops down to the mochi bracelet around my wrist, focusing on the emotions of my love.

Worry. Simmering anger. Determination. Resolve. I had to be steadfast like Katakuri and play my part in keeping everyone safe. I felt like I had the same responsibility as Katakuri, taking on the role of a protective big sister since I was his wife. I could see my antennae change to a deep red. My desire to succeed was rooted in my love for Katakuri. With a shake of my head, I straightened up and threw my lollipop to the ground before going around Perospero's candy shield to march towards the rampaging Yonko. A frantic scream sounded from the brother behind me as he ran up to my side and put on a wide smile with me as he called out to Mama.

We both shook as he convinced her with words while I coaxed her with a little emotion and thought nudging. Despite being such a feared pirate, Big Mom’s mind was easy to influence, like a child’s, which matched some of her behavior at times. The feeling of everyone watching us with bated breaths, and the direct tap of Katakuri's own worry made this all the more pressuring. The two of us just about fainted at her terrifying aura, purple taking over my previous red, as she promised to take our lives if we were lying before leaping onto Zeus and racing off towards the seducing wood. Not a moment after she was out of sight did Perospero and I share a glance before wailing out in fear. He fell to his knees on the ground, and I was heading to follow suit if Katakuri hadn't swooped in to pick me up off my feet again. I felt even more drained than before, but the love and comfort coming from my beloved husband and the few head caresses he was willing to give me in public made everything worth it. I trusted him to help me make sure everything worked out.

As Perospero fell further into despair about our current situation, a familiar voice from above called out to us. Peeking over my husband's shoulder until he turned around, I saw Pudding on her magic carpet.

"I'll make Mama's cake!" She proclaimed, and Perospero just about cried tears of joy at those four words. As she explained her plan of recruiting Chiffon to help her remake Mama's cake on Cacao Island, I knew the little time I had with Katakuri was coming to an end. Soon, he would be locked in a heated battle with Strawhat Luffy. Staring up at my husband's serious face as he listened to Pudding and everyone else, I took to admiring every perfect line and curve of his face that I could see. After so many years, I didn't even need to see the rest of his face to visualize it under his scarf. The tips of my antennae drooped into my vision, and I could see them lit up with a dark pink. With a small, embarrassed jolt, I covered the exposing appendages with my hands as the conversation came to an end.

I could hear and feel my husband’s amused chuckle at my embarrassment, making me flush further. This brought my attention to the tattling bracelet around my wrist, making me contemplate its importance right now. My emotions were all over the place and have already distracted him enough today. With pursed lips, I tugged at the mochi bracelet around my wrist. In an instant, Katakuri's full attention was on me, and his hand was preventing my own from completing its task.

"What are you doing?" He asks in a low voice, ignoring the gazes of his younger siblings around us. To everyone else, he sounded angry, but I felt he was just apprehensive and confused. I smiled and lifted his gloved hand to my lips for a soft kiss to his knuckles, which elicited a few 'aww's, before continuing to move the bracelet to my hair as a hair tie, which he allowed this time.

"I've worried you enough today, dear. You're about to enter a big fight, and I don't want to trouble you anymore. It's close enough to still feel my presence, but not my emotions unless you wish. You can focus on it for strength, if you need to. I'm sure I'm worrying over nothing again, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." With a soft smile and a peck to his cheek, I pat his muscled arm to be let down. Through my touch I could feel his unease and dissatisfaction at my words, but other than that, the only indication that my actions had bothered him was another crease in between his ever furrowed eyebrows. I knew he didn’t like this plan. He knew I didn’t like this plan either. But it was a necessary precaution, one taken to further ensure victory and protect the family. We held each other’s challenging gazes for a few bated breaths until Katakuri relented. He uncrosses his arms a bit, but before he could bend over to let me down closer to the ground, I slipped through the given gap, landed briefly on the spike band sticking out from his left knee and hopped to the ground.

"I'll stay here with Mont d'Or and Pekoms to stay out of you guys’ way. I'm sure they can protect me if something happens, right, boys?" I smile wide and hook my arms through one of each of theirs, causing them to puff out their chests and proudly agree.

"You guys just do your best, as always!" The dark pink of my antennae shifted to a burnt orange to show my low tempo joy and determination. Even though my bones ached with exhaustion, I took a deep breath and started to radiate feelings of rejuvenation and conviction for everyone as a boost. After I did so for a minute, I let my arm slip from Mont d'Or so I could subtly lean more into Pekoms' soft fur, who easily held me steady. As I lifted my heavy eyes, I could see Katakuri observing me closely before closing his eyes and turning away. Nothing got past him.

"That's enough time wasted here. Get a move on to the positions you've been assigned. Every second lost is a lesser chance of victory, but we will win." Everyone, invigorated by my powers and inspired by Katakuri's brief speech, gave out a battle cry and ran off to do as they were told. As everyone dispersed, Pekoms wrapped an arm around my waist, and helped me follow Mont d'Or and Tamago to where they'd be working from.

As I sat down and continued to rest against Pekoms, I thought about what happened earlier with that odd forcefield when I was about to be crushed. It had to have come from me since I felt the energy output of it, but I've never done that before. Maybe this was the awakening that Katakuri has been trying to draw out of me all this time, and it only just came out then because I was in real danger for the first time in my life. Of course, I've been in danger before, but ever since I married Katakuri, I've felt comfortably confident in my safety. I'd have to look into this development later.

With everything happening I didn't know when I'd be able to rest again, so I was going to take the opportunity while I had it. My gloves were starting to make my anxious hands sweaty, so I tugged them off and stuffed them into a pocket on my dress. A yawn escaped me as I snuggled more into Pekoms’ side and fell into a dreamless sleep.

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆

Unsure of how long I'd been asleep for, I woke up with a start to the sound of someone crying. I sat up from the piece of sponge cake I had been settled on during my nap to look around for the culprit. It was Pekoms, and he seemed truly upset by something. The sight of one of my friends crying like that woke me up quickly. With a frown and dark blue antennae, I stood up and rushed over to the sobbing lion to comfort him. Once he realized it was me, he instantly dropped to his knees to envelope me in a tight hug. Before I could even open my mouth to ask what the matter was, he beat me to it.

"My brother! He's gone! How could this happen?! Gyah! Big bro Pedro!" My arms wrapped around his fluffy afro as I cooed at him in consolation. Without my gloves on, I could feel the full force of Pekoms' sorrow, and it cut deeply through me in my groggy state. Fat tears, the same as his, rolled down my cheeks until I managed to control the reception of emotions, yet it still left me sniffling and letting out a few tears. Normally, I'd try to calm the person down and make them calmer, but this was a hurt that needed to be let out naturally. It felt wrong to subdue the grief he felt for, what seemed like, the death of a very close person in his life. I looked over to the chicken form of Tamago, eyes still watery.

"Tamago-san, what happened?" My voice shook as I spoke, not able to completely dismiss my self-inflicted sadness. The teacup wearing man tutted as he walked towards me, using a wing to wipe my face of tears.

"Ah, do not cry-amour, tears do not suit your face, bon. Unfortunately, Pekoms' brother, Pedro, died aiding the Strawhats' escape from the island. He blew himself up to free their ship of Perospero-sama's candy, bon. From what I heard he took part of Perospero-sama's arm with him. " My breath hitched in horror at the information and loss from both sides as Pekoms cried even harder upon hearing the news again. Enemy or not, losing someone close to you is always hard. Not to mention Perospero’s loss as well.

"Shut up already! He was our enemy! He knew the risks of helping those Strawhats fight a Yonko’s crew! And what about Perospero?! Half his arm is gone!" I snapped my head towards Mont d'Or with a tear-stained glare and dark purple antennae for his insensitive comment which had him shying behind the giant book he held. I understood that he was an enemy, but that didn’t negate the fact that Pekoms knew and cared for him. Nothing was black and white in this world, especially family. Fortunately, Tamago was partially on our side, and engaged Mont d'Or's complaint. Not wanting my irritation to upset Pekoms any further, I took a few deep breaths, cleared my mind and continued to hug his head to my shoulder. Slowly, the deep purple faded back into a light blue.

"I'm so sorry, Pekoms. I understand what it's like to lose someone so close to you. If you need anything, I'll help you in any way I can." He didn't say anything, but nodded a little against my shoulder. I stood there silently after my condolences, tuning out Tamago and Mont d'Or's continued argument in favor of comforting Pekoms to the best of my abilities.

After a while, his sobs waned to sniffles, and from there he finally loosened his hold on me and leaned back to look at me. My exposed shoulder was drenched from tears, but I paid that no mind as I lifted his glasses and wiped the tears from his black, beady eyes. I offered a sad smile.

"Sorry for cry-" Before he could even think of finishing that sentence, I shushed him with a finger.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. What happened was horrible. Even if he was technically an enemy", a swift, bombastic side eye to Mont d'Or, who cowered again under my returned scolding gaze, "he was still your brother. I'm sure he still saw you as his brother even if you two had different ideals and paths in life." My speech earned an appreciative smile from Pekoms as he nodded and stood up. He took on a thoughtful look as he stared out towards the Seducing Forest. I just stayed next to him, thinking over all the events of the day.

"Y/N? Would you like to come with me to, uh, look around for any more injured people?" Pekoms’ somber and rough voice roused me from my thoughts yet again. That was an odd and random request, but I suppose he just needed something to do and focus on to distract himself. I was still a little tired, but I didn’t want to leave Pekoms alone.

"Of course, we need to find some first aid kits first, though." With an absent nod from him, I told the other two where we were off to, and Pekoms led me into the ruined city. The river of cream that had flowed freely earlier was now just a sludge that thickly coated the ground. Even though I was already a mess, I still held up the edge of my dress to prevent any further damage.

We stop by the abandoned hospital for two first aid kits before setting off back through the city in silence. I had tripped a few too many times over debris and thick cream puddles, prompting Pekoms to grab hold of my bare hand. I tried not to focus on his swirling emotions out of courtesy, but I could tell easily that the most prominent one was uncertainty. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Pekoms stopped in his tracks and spoke up again.

"Y/N, what would you do if you knew someone was going to betray the family?" Stopping at both his halt and question, it took me a moment to understand why he would ask it. My e/c eyes stared at his triangular sunglasses, feeling out his emotions more deeply as I did. I felt his anguish, guilt, nervousness yet a flaring storm of conviction was starting to overshadow the aforementioned uncertainty. It was clear what he wanted to do, and I was in no position to talk him out of it.

This is where I had to choose between my morality and true loyalty to Big Mom. Pedro was his family before we were, and I couldn’t ask him not to fight for the people that his brother died to protect. All the Strawhats wanted was their crew member back, a crew member that we took from them. All in all, I swore my loyalty and life to Katakuri, not Big Mom, and I knew he would understand any decision I made.

"I think that each person has their own values that they must hold steadfast to in any circumstance. Even if they conflict with other parts of our lives. Something you must ask yourself, though, is if you're willing to put your life on the line for those values and face any consequences that come with them." A beat of silence passed between us as I let my words soak in. I stepped towards Pekoms and wrapped my arms around him tightly, and he reciprocated. The warmth of his fur tickled a smile onto my face, lighting up my antennae yellow.

"I'll always think of you as my family, Pekoms, even if you leave us. Besides," I look up at him and give him a little wink, "believe it or not, Katakuri and I don't always tell the family everything if it doesn't affect them." Pekoms' lip quivered for a few seconds before starting up a new fountain of tears while hugging me even tighter.

"Gyah! I knew you were my favorite for a reason, Y/N! Thank you so much!" I wheezed out a laugh, happily squeezing him back as my yellow shifted into a peachy orange. This felt like the right decision.

Once Pekoms calmed down, we made our way to the ruined chateau once again. No one but the more prominent siblings in the family knew this, but Brulee had a mirror in her room in the chateau that she always keeps open. Whenever she was in the Mirro-World, anyone could access it through that mirror without her being present. It was useful for when we had meetings there, though we still needed Brulee to leave out of a different mirror.

It was tough figuring out where her room was now that the whole building was ruined and skewered on the city's tallest buildings, but after an hour of searching, we figured it out and stood before the mirror. Miraculously, it wasn't cracked, but we did have to sit it back up for us to enter. Pekoms abandoned his first aid kit, on the checkered floor but I kept mine in case we came across someone who was injured. The only news we've heard so far has been a report of the Straw Hat's ship sinking and the defeat of Germa 66, so I wanted to be prepared. Pekoms lost a bit of his drive at those disheartening reports, but refused to give up just yet. Before I could wander off, Pekoms stopped me with a paw to my shoulder.

"Listen, Y/N. I know you said you wouldn't tell anyone about me, uh, following my values, but I also don't want you to be labeled as a traitor because of me. I know you love Katakuri, and I want you two to be happy. That being said, if push comes to shove, I don't want you to associate with anything I do from here on out. I'll even act like I took you hostage if I need to! Gyah!" He clenched his fist in front of him as he declared this, making me smile and pat his arm.

"Don't worry, Pekoms, I'll be fine. I promise." Looking around, the winding and twisting walkways of the Mirro-World had me a bit lost. I had only been through here with a guide that knew where they were going. Luckily, Pekoms seemed to know what he was doing as he turned around to face the large mirror we just came through.

"Hey mirror, who all is in the Mirro-World?" The mirror, to my surprise, answered.

"Brulee, Katakuri, Flampe and a man in a straw hat are currently here!" I perked up upon hearing that Katakuri was still here with Strawhat Luffy. It's been a couple of hours since we heard the reports of the sunken Straw Hat's ship and Germa 66's defeat on Pekoms' transponder snail. Though, now it seemed that Strawhat was living up to his bounty and more. I was tempted to touch the bracelet in my hair but refrained. If Luffy was holding his own against my unrivaled husband, then it must require focus. I couldn’t let my own selfish whims worry him again.

“Pekoms, what were you planning on doing here? Although Strawhat has held out for this long, he seems to be struggling against Kata, and if he loses, anything you do could be for naught.” Even with his sunglasses on, I could tell that Pekoms was worried as he thought out his first course of action. It was hard for me to believe that Katakuri would lose, so the most the mink could do was aid in Strawhat Luffy’s escape when the time came. Before Pekoms could think up a plan of anything, his transponder snail woke and started a ruckus.

“Strawhat Luffy is in Chips Town!”

“No, he’s in Chockfull Town!”

“Green Town!”

Island after island gave reports of sightings of Strawhat Luffy appearing all over Tottoland. The fact that he was running around so many islands meant that he had Brulee, for the second time to my understanding, and was running from his fight with Katakuri. Pekoms seemed relieved to even hear that he was alive and kicking even if he was running for his life. To me, this news meant that Katakuri was stuck here in the Mirro-world just like us until Brulee was freed.

Just thinking about him spiked the craving of my husband’s feelings thrumming through my body. I had gotten so used to knowing the inner workings of his heart that I felt half empty without them. Without him, my nerves felt too open and vulnerable, so I shakily took out my gloves from my pocket and tugged them on. The anxiousness dimmed my bright antennae. Pekoms started to cheer which drew my attention to him and away from the remounting worries plaguing the edges of my mind.

“Gyah! I knew he would survive! He may be a bit stupid, but even he knows when to pick and choose his battles!” The mink turned to me with a wide smile and grabbed my shoulders. With his paws in contact with my bare shoulders, I could feel his strong relief and fierce motivation which brightened me back up. That was how I felt when I put my faith in Katakuri, and Pekoms felt this way about Strawhat Luffy? I suppose Strawhat was Pekoms' leader right now just as Katakuri was ours.

“If he’s trying to leave, then the rest of the crew has to be alive! They have to be! Big bro Pedro didn’t die in vain!” His voice wavered at that last sentence, but he kept his determined smile. I gave the invigorated mink a small, supportive smile and nodded.

“It seems they could be alive, but we can’t leave without Brulee here, remember?” Pekoms froze in his excitement at my words of reasoning. In a second, he was depressed on the floor. I laughed softly and kneeled next to his hunched form.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure Brulee will be released soon, and you’ll be able to continue Pedro’s will.” Pekoms sniffled and looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“You think so?” With a nod, I placed my gloved hand on his pink clad shoulder. The flow of his strong feelings seeping through my gloves had me taking a deep breath. Bright red blazed over the previous peachy orange. He really wanted- no, needed to help this rambunctious pirate running around Tottoland. For himself and no one else. That was a freedom not many people in this kingdom had. I wish Katakuri had that freedom.

“I do.” We shared a quiet moment before I stood back and put my hands on my hips. I was starting to feel tired again, but there were things that still needed to be done.

“Now, let’s go. Brulee has a few houses around here, doesn’t she? If you’re going to be masquerading as a robust vigilante aiding Strawhat Luffy, you need to look the part, right?” Pekoms jumped up and threw a clenched fist into the air.

“Gyah! Yeah! Let’s go!” With newfound energy, Pekoms grabbed my hand and dragged me along one of the many twisting and checkered paths.

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆

"What about this one?"

"Um, too sparkly."

"This one?"

"Too frilly."

"Okay okay. This one!"

Pekoms pulled out a pink, skin tight mask with a few darker pink markings along the face and a star right on the forehead. It was one of the last costumes he had pulled out of one of the many costume drawers we found. Anyone who had met the Charlotte family would be hard pressed to deny the family’s. . . flamboyant clothing style, so a house in a central location solely for dress up clothes was well within their behavioral territory. I was laying along my stomach on a dangerously comfy bed as Pekoms sifted through all the clothes and outfits, helping him choose the right one. Who knew he would be so keen on matching his existing pink suit?

“Hmm, it matches your suit better than the other masks. Try it on?” I covered a yawn and closed my heavy eyes for a moment as the lion mink pulled on the tight face mask. When I opened them again, he had fit all his mane into the mask and I had to stifle a laugh at the sight. He looked like a giant cloud of cotton candy! Not to mention that the mask was so tight that it hid nothing to anyone who knew him.

“Gyah! I knew I looked stupid!” My giggles only increased as the embarrassed mink tried tugging it off and the mask didn’t budge an inch. His frantic attempts prompted me to get up, despite my sore body’s protests, and try to help him. After about five minutes of tugging from any and all angles, the tight mask stayed in its place on Pekoms. With labored breaths, I collapsed onto the soft bed as Pekoms sulked on the floor.

“Gyah! I have to defend Big Bro Pedro’s legacy in this? How shameful.” Once I caught my breath, I decided to encourage Pekoms again.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear, Pekoms. What matters is your actions. As long as you do what you think is right for your ideals, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” Another yawn drew out the last of my soft pep talk, and this time I couldn’t ignore the call of sleep. This day had drawn a lot out of me, and my aching bones settled as I slipped into my memories and dreams.

As I faded out of consciousness, the last thing I heard was the unsteady reply of my companion.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

Light filtered through the mosaic windows, casting hundreds of mini rainbows and refracted light spots across our cozy bedroom. It was one of the very few days that I awoke to my husband still by my side in bed. Even rarer, I was awake before him. Everything felt so bleary and light as I took in the warm air of our room, the large rises and falls of my husband’s chest underneath my arm, the softness of his arm settled against my body. It all felt so perfect. Too perfect. Yet, I didn’t want to lose this moment.

I treasured every moment I had with my busy behemoth of a man, no matter how brief, long, serene or fitful. I hardly stirred from my resting spot in fear of breaking the spell. There had to be a spell. My senses were so enchanted, so enraptured by the man resting beside me that at times it was hard to believe that I was his and he was mine.

Mine. That word still made me giddy to think about, let alone say, even after two years of marriage. Giggles threatened to bubble out of my parched throat, but I kept my whimsical feelings contained so as to not disturb him. He deserved the rest. He deserved the world. A world better than the one he lived in, one where he could be just as peaceful and happy as those he protected.

I wish I could protect him the way he did me. Protect him from everything that took away the shining light I saw in him every day. Protect him from the people that locked that light in a cage with a single window to shine through. But even as he is, scars and all, I knew he was perfect. My perfect husband in every sense of the word. The way he laughed, the way he smiled, oh his beautiful, unfettered smile, how he held me, those oh so gentle eyes when he told me he loved me. I was sure I was as pink as my antennae was bound to be by now. Every perfect thing I thought about him made it harder and harder to keep my smile down and my hands to myself. The hand on his chest trailed its way up to his uncovered face.

That was certainly the most perfect thing about him. The feature he hated most about himself is the thing that made me love him more when he finally showed me. Surprisingly, he didn’t move even as I cupped his scarred cheek. He was so warm. So soft. My lips itched to kiss him. To make sure he was really mine after all this time. Finally, I sat up at his side, looking down on his still slumbering face.

Slowly, I lowered my forehead down to his.

Nuzzled my nose to his sharp one.

My lips felt the exhales of his breath, getting closer and warmer until-

A loud, ground shaking rumble woke me up with a start. I sat up, my heart racing as I looked around to see where I was. I was still in Brulee’s dress up home, Pekoms lying on his back on the floor with loud snores coming from him. A pang stabbed my heart when I realized I wasn’t where my surreal dream-like memory led me to believe I was. Where I hoped I was. I was right, it was too perfect.

No, instead of Katakuri being next me, sleeping soundly, he was out there, fighting a dangerous pirate for our sake. If I had to guess, they were the cause of the rumbling that woke me up. With a weary sigh, I got up from the bed calling me to lay back down. As much as I wanted to rest, I still had to help Pekoms. Maybe I’ll get to see my husband at the end of his fight. The worries I had before resurfaced full force accompanied by a headache, but I made myself swallow any expressions of it back. Katakuri must be more tired and hurt than I am right now with such a long fight, so this is nothing. I have things to do.

“Pekoms, wake up. Wake up, Pekoms. It sounds like Kata and Strawhat are fighting again.” When my words did nothing to stir the deep sleeping mink, I crouched down and pulled back the tight mask still stuck to his face and let it snap back to his cheek. Pekoms was quick to react to that, a small roar of pain sounding from him as he shot up. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger as he rubbed his stinging cheek.

“Gyah! What the hell was that for?!”

“We need to go, now is no time for sleeping. Don’t tell me you already forgot why you’re doing this.” This time Pekoms heard me loud and clear, and jumped to his feet. I joined him a little slower as another tremor shook the house, knocking a few things from dressers.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten! I’ll never forget!” I smiled fondly at his persistent motivation before silently turning towards the door and making my way out of the house. The disarray of Brulee’s Mirro-World compared to how it was when we first got here was a bit shocking. It must be an intense battle for things to be in this state. My weariness was dragging my dread filled body down as I thought about my husband’s apparent struggle against this pirate. I had my faith in him until the end, but the fact that this has been going on all day and night is worrisome, to say the least. My mind ran wild with thoughts of the worst outcome, turning my antennae a lofty purple. Pekoms came up beside me with a look of uneasiness that matched my internal emotions.

“Geez, those two are really doing a number on this place.” He checked his watch. “It’s 10 minutes 'till 1 am. They’ve been fighting all day and through half the night, gyah! I think we should go see where the fight is. Maybe I can try to save Strawhat from an untimely death.” Pekoms seemed to also hold the sentiment that Strawhat wouldn’t be able to defeat Katakuri, which eased my worries a little. Although I know Katakuri isn’t omnipotent, like many are led to believe, his strength is nothing to write off. After seeing what he’s capable of for the past 3 years, I’d be stupid to doubt his abilities now.

All I could do was nod in agreement to Pekoms’ plan, and follow him as he started towards the source of the large tremors. Butterflies of nervousness had me feeling sick with each step I took. Anxiety was different from doubt. Eventually we got close enough to the fight that with each rumble, a wave of dust and Haoshoku Haki swept over us, and I fell to the ground at the unexpected onslaught of emotions. Pekoms was still standing, but upon noticing I wasn’t he knelt down beside me in concern.

When people use Haoshoku Haki, they put out their intentions and emotions with it. The stronger the Haki, the more intense the emotions. I could tell one was Katakuri because it felt familiar. His Haki was filled with conviction and love. The other Haki that was new and almost suffocating had to be Strawhat’s. His was also filled with love alongside persistence but had a dangerous edge to it. Like with one wrong thought, things could turn horrible, and that possibility shook me to my core. The lilac of my antennae flickered like a firefly that changed in brightness with each new wave that washed over us.

Pekoms must have seen something happening that I couldn’t because he suddenly picked me up and ran back the way we came a little to hide in a tunnel full of mirrors. He used his Devil Fruit and put his back to the entrance to block anything from coming in. I was still frozen as I held onto Pekom’s jacket. Katakuri’s opponent was more dangerous than I thought, and I was sure he knew that, but he was still fighting. Everything going on paralyzed me with overstimulation.

What if Katakuri lost? What would Big Mom do to him for losing? He’s never lost before, but she expects perfection from him. How would he feel if he lost? What would happen if he lost? Would Strawhat just leave with his crew? All these rampant emotions had my antennae darkening to a deep shade of brown from the muddied myriad of feelings cloudy my senses. I couldn’t control my powers in this state, so involuntarily I started to exude them out, trying to get rid of them. Pekoms was holding me tight, so I could feel the vibrations of him talking, but everything else drowned out his words.

Just be quiet, quiet,

QUIET!

And then. . . there was silence.

Hope you liked it!~ If I didn't already have the 3rd part made, I'm sure I'd be a horrible person to anyone reading this.~ See you soon.~

Part 1 <- - Part 2 - -> Part 3

#charlotte katakuri #katakuri #one piece #mochi man #whole cake island #wci #katakuri x reader #x reader #female reader #knacks writes

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

Note

I love the last post. I can see Felix and the Reader doing martial arts together. I can see Caius's face being hesitant to give the reader head scratches.

Jasper/ the Major x wolf reader

Jasper ends up leaving the Cullens for good and going back to live with Peter and Charlotte because he decides he is done with the animal diet, and He finds out Alice lied about them being mates. On the way to Peter and Charlotte's home, He finds the reader in her wolf form not knowing she is female, being chased by other wolves. She accidentally runs into him, and she hides behind him visually scared as the others catch up to her. The Major comes out when he realizes the reader has blood on her fur and open wounds.

(I feel like Jasper/ the Major wouldn't leave the reader to suffer from danger.)

He tells the wolves after they have shift back into human form to leave the wolf alone, that's when the alpha of the pack mentions very rudely that the reader is female and how she does not belong in his pack. They leave and by then the reader has shifted back into a human and looks at Jasper and imprints on him but before she says anything she has passed out from her wounds. Jasper takes her back to Peter and Charlotte, where he nurses her back to health after Peter calls him and says she is important to Jasper. After a few weeks, Jasper, Peter and Charlotte, Reader have received a message that Maria is coming to try take The Major back.

Okay! We got this!

❝true mates❞

✭ pairing : jasper hale x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : jasper is done with the animal diet, he can’t survive no longer without the sweet taste of human blood so he leaves, he leaves behind his family and moves in with two of Carlisle old friends Peter and charlotte. They welcome him and he’s happy now, but before he can arrive there he has a run in with some wolves, no they aren’t attacking him but another.

✭ authors note : this was fun to write ooh and I’m in a Uber on the way home. Nvm I made it home before I could write the last half

✭ twilight masterlist

Jasper Hale's world had always revolved around Alice. Their connection was unbreakable, their bond stronger than steel. But as the days passed, an unease began to settle within him, like a cloud obscuring the sun. It was a gnawing feeling that refused to be ignored.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars appeared in the sky, Jasper found himself alone with Alice in their favorite clearing. The air was crisp, and the only sound was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

"Alice," Jasper's voice trembled as he began, "I've been feeling something... off, lately. Like there's something you're not telling me."

Alice's golden eyes flickered with uncertainty, her usually bright demeanor dimming. "Jasper, you know I'd never keep anything from you."

"But what if you did?" he pushed gently. "What if there's something you've been hiding? Something about us?"

Alice's gaze dropped to the ground, and Jasper's heart clenched. "Jasper, I thought I was doing what was best for us. I thought if you believed we were destined mates, it would make the transition easier for you. I didn't want to burden you with doubts."

Jasper's brows furrowed, his confusion turning to hurt. "You lied to me? About being mates?"

Alice's voice quivered as she nodded. "I thought it was for the best. I didn't want you to struggle with your cravings more than you already do."

The weight of her admission hung heavy in the air. Jasper's mind raced, conflicting emotions churning within him. The bond they had shared, the trust he had placed in her, felt like shattered glass beneath his feet.

"I can't do this, Alice," Jasper whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't be with someone who would lie to me about something so fundamental. And it's not just that. My cravings are getting worse, and I can't ignore them any longer."

Alice reached out a trembling hand, but Jasper stepped back, out of her reach. "I need human blood, Alice. I can't suppress it any longer."

Tears of vemon welled up in Alice's eyes as she nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "Jasper, I'm so sorry."

Jasper's resolve hardened. He turned away from her, his gaze fixed on the darkening forest. "I can't stay here any longer. Not after this. I need to find a way to control my cravings."

As he walked away from the clearing, leaving behind the shattered fragments of his relationship with Alice, he felt a mixture of sorrow and determination. He needed to find a new path, one that didn't involve the lies and half-truths that had clouded his existence.

Several days later, in the quiet of the Cullen home, Carlisle approached Jasper with a solemn expression. "Jasper, I've made a difficult decision. I reached out to two old friends, Peter and Charlotte. They are vampires who drink human blood, and they've agreed to take you in."

Jasper looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "You've done so much for me already, Carlisle."

Carlisle placed a reassuring hand on Jasper's shoulder. "We care about you, Jasper. We want you to find the path that's right for you. You deserve to live without the burden of lies and cravings."

Jasper nodded, his voice sincere. "Thank you, Carlisle. For everything."

As Jasper traveled through the dense woods, each step brought him closer to the unknown. The memory of leaving the Cullens was still fresh, a mix of sorrow and determination propelling him forward. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the forest.

Suddenly, a series of frantic growls and rustling leaves shattered the silence. Jasper's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly darted behind a large tree, taking cover. A pack of massive wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with a mix of fury and urgency.

In their midst was an injured wolf, blood oozing from a wound on its side. The injured wolf's paws faltered, and it stumbled, falling to the ground with a pained whimper. The other wolves closed in, their intentions clear.

Jasper's eyes narrowed as he felt a surge of protective energy flow through him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. The air seemed to crackle with tension as his form shifted, his alter ego, the Major, taking over.

With a roar that echoed through the night, the Major radiated power and authority. The other wolves hesitated, their aggression giving way to uncertainty. The Major's cold, steely gaze bore into them, a warning that needed no words.

The pack of wolves backed away, their tails tucked between their legs. As they retreated, the injured wolf managed to stand, its eyes locking onto Jasper's, a mixture of gratitude and fear in its gaze. Jasper's gaze softened, recognizing the vulnerability beneath the fierce exterior.

Then, something unexpected happened. The injured wolf's form began to shift, contorting and reshaping until it was no longer a wolf, but a human. She stumbled slightly, her body weakened by the transformation, and Jasper moved quickly to support her.

Her breathing was labored, and blood stained her torn clothes. "Thank you," she managed to whisper, her voice fragile and hoarse, before collapsing against him, unconscious.

Jasper's surprise was twofold. First, he was taken aback by the fact that the injured wolf had been a girl all along. And second, as he looked into her eyes, which had transitioned from the fierce amber of a wolf to the warm brown of a human, he felt a pull—a connection unlike any other.

His heart raced, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. The sensation of a mate pull was undeniable, a magnetic force drawing him to her. But his recent experiences with Alice had left him cautious, wary of giving his heart too easily.

Gently cradling the injured girl in his arms, Jasper's thoughts swirled. He couldn't deny the bond that seemed to be forming, the inexplicable connection that defied reason. As he carried her deeper into the woods, seeking a safe place to tend to her wounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that his journey had taken an unexpected turn—one that held the potential for a new chapter in his immortal life.

Jasper continued his journey through the night, his arms cradling the injured girl against his chest. His steps were steady, his heart a mix of uncertainty and determination. He knew he was headed in the right direction—toward Peter and Charlotte, his two old vampire friends who had agreed to take him in.

As he approached their secluded dwelling, nestled deep within the wilderness, a sense of familiarity washed over him. The moonlight illuminated the path ahead, guiding him toward the place where he hoped to find answers and a safe haven.

The door to the cabin swung open just as Jasper arrived, revealing Peter and Charlotte. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and concern as they took in the scene before them—the injured girl in Jasper's arms.

"Jasper, what happened?" Charlotte's voice carried genuine worry as she rushed forward to help.

Jasper carefully laid the girl on a nearby couch, her unconscious form a stark contrast to the cozy interior of the cabin. "She was being chased by a pack of shapeshifters. I scared them off."

Peter approached Jasper, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Good job, Major."

With Charlotte's expertise, they set to work treating the girl's wounds. The room was filled with the soft glow of candles, and Jasper watched as they worked together seamlessly, their experience evident in every movement.

Time passed in a blur as they tended to the girl's injuries. Slowly, her breathing steadied, and color returned to her cheeks. Jasper found himself captivated by her delicate features, her vulnerability drawing him in.

As the girl began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open, she looked around in confusion before her gaze settled on Jasper. "You saved me."

Jasper offered her a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now."

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

As the girl drifted back into a restful slumber, Jasper turned to Peter, his expression conflicted. "Peter, I don't understand. I felt a mate pull toward her, but she's a shapeshifter, and I'm a vampire. How is that possible?"

Peter's gaze held a knowing twinkle as he leaned against the cabin's wall. "Jasper, a vampire's mate can be anyone or anything. The connection transcends the boundaries of species. It's about souls that resonate with each other, regardless of form."

Jasper's brows furrowed, absorbing Peter's words. "But how can I feel a connection to her? I've felt a similar pull before, but it was never this strong."

Charlotte joined the conversation, her gentle smile reassuring. "Jasper, love is a powerful force. It can defy logic and expectations. Your experiences with Alice might have taught you caution, but that doesn't mean you should close yourself off to new possibilities."

Jasper's gaze drifted back to the girl, his heart a swirl of emotions. As he watched her, he realized that he had been given a second chance—a chance to discover a new kind of love, one that was based on honesty and mutual understanding.

Peter's words echoed in his mind, a reminder that love was not confined by the boundaries of species. As the night unfolded around them, Jasper's resolve strengthened. He would embrace this newfound connection, this unexpected mate pull, and allow it to guide him toward a future that held both promise and adventure.

As the girl began to regain her strength, Jasper sat by her side, his eyes never straying from her. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, and a soft smile curved her lips as she met his gaze.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice fragile but filled with gratitude.

Jasper returned her smile, a warmth spreading through him. "How are you feeling?"

"(Y/N)," she introduced herself, her voice carrying a hint of determination despite her weakened state. "And thanks to you and your friends, much better."

He nodded, a sense of kinship forming between them. "I'm Jasper."

She looked around the cabin, her gaze landing on Peter and Charlotte, who were watching with approving smiles. "You have good friends, Jasper."

"They're more like family," Jasper replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "They took me in when I needed it most."

Peter approached, a playful grin on his face. "And now it seems we're growing our family even more."

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "You're welcome to stay with us, (Y/N). Consider this cabin your home as well."

Tears glistened in (Y/N)'s eyes as she looked at the couple before her. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know how to repay your kindness."

Peter chuckled. "No need for repayment. We've been in similar situations before, and we believe in helping those in need."

As days turned into weeks, the cabin became a haven for (Y/N), much like it had been for Jasper when he first arrived. The bond between them grew stronger, a friendship forged in gratitude and shared experiences.

Jasper found himself drawn to (Y/N) in ways he had never imagined. Her resilience and kindness captivated him, and the mate pull he felt only intensified. He was no longer burdened by doubts or fears; instead, he embraced the connection that had formed between them.

As they spent time together, sharing stories and laughter, Jasper felt a deep sense of contentment. The pain of his past with Alice was slowly fading, replaced by the hope of a future with his true mate.

One evening, as the sun set and cast hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jasper found himself alone with (Y/N) on the porch. They sat side by side, the quietude of the moment speaking volumes.

"(Y/N)," Jasper began softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, "I know we come from different worlds, but there's something between us that I can't ignore."

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and understanding. "I feel it too, Jasper."

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. "I've been hurt before, (Y/N). But with you, it's different. I want to embrace this connection between us, without reservation."

A smile graced her lips, a gentle affirmation. "I want that too, Jasper. I've never felt a bond like this before."

And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Jasper knew he had found his true mate. The journey that had led him to (Y/N) was one of twists and turns, heartache and healing. But now, with her by his side and the support of Peter and Charlotte, he felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before—a love that transcended all boundaries and promised a future filled with hope and happiness.

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