#might delete later sorry for being dramatic

[lyssentome]

I'm coming to terms with the fact that the only thing I have going for my writing are: a) dialogue and b) emotional scenes with way too many flowery phrases. Idk how to do anything else. I have no spatial ability. Why the Fuck am I even a writer if I can't visualize shit.

[bylerphobic]

okay listen, anyone can headcanon mike as whatever you want, really!! but can we please stop saying that one sexuality would be “easier” to explain/understand than the other… i know what you’re trying to say but it really rubs me the wrong way implying that one sexuality would ‘make more sense’ when they can all be explained perfectly fine — that’s exactly why people headcanon him differently.

[bisexualseraphim]

I will never understand why most people can’t just apologise and promise to change when you tell them they’ve hurt you, especially when you’re really not asking for anything unreasonable. I know it’s human nature to get defensive in the face of criticism but sometimes you’ve gotta stop being so proud for the sake of your relationships. Otherwise you’ll never keep any.

[foreheadkiss3s]

tate langdon x gn! reader.

trigger warnings : really sad thoughts going through the readers mind. i let my drama queen take over and everything came out too dramatic.

angst/ fluff at the end if you squint your eyes really hard.

this is so messy, really, it’s just a drabble i wanted to put out but i think i’ll probs end up deleting it since i feel like it’s cringey. also, english is not my first language so whatever (and wherever) mistake you might find, please bear with me.

I know it might be confusing, or even worse, not make sense at all. but i just let my messy thoughts flow and that’s the result.

just to get things a bit more clear, tate is still alive and dealing with his situation back home while reader is the only friend he managed to make in high school. the reader was at the house, not the murder house ( let’s just assume the reader’s house it’s near that ) and tate just presented himself there after the reader became distant with him.

« I’m sorry. »

You know about those days, when you wake up and your eyes reflexively land on the window? And then they wander up, and get to notice the soft hue of the blue sky, lightened up by the sun? And it’s almost as if you could feel the warmth of the sun rays seeping through your window?

Perhaps it’s the warmth of the covers, the cozy feeling that you get every time when you just wake up and that later on makes you whine because you know you’ll have to leave that warm place soon to get up and get ready for school. But it’s almost as if you had a restart.

For five minutes— sometimes even less, it depends on how much it takes your brain to process the world outside of your mind again— you get to feel like you’ve just been reborn, and that everything would be alright.

But then it all comes crumbling down.

Your brain registers where you are, the reality you live, and the obnoxious routine you have to do everyday. Get up. Brush your teeth and hair. Skip breakfast because you’re always late. Get dressed. Go to school. Wish to get home during and in between classes. Get finally home, but then you get frustrated because it’s always the same damn thing.

You don’t know what it is that frustrates you, that angers you so much and sometimes even makes you cry. That drains you, leaving you so exhausted that you end up falling asleep only to wake up the next morning and experience the same thing again.

Perhaps, you think, that you’re crazy. Maybe you’re spiralling out of reality. Maybe you’re just being an ungrateful teenager. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe you just want to sleep forever.

But, when you think you can’t take it no more, here comes Tate.

Sometimes you think he’s weird. Not in a bad way, you think he’s just.. weird. He’s one of the most pessimistic people you know, always looking down on the human specie and labelling it as some sort of stupid being. Yet, when it comes to the state you’re slowly falling in, he seems to suck it out of you.

You don’t know how to explain it properly— you don’t even understand it yourself, but it’s almost as if he is a sponge. Just by staying near you, he sucks all the darkness away. He’s like a black hole, but instead of absorbing everything he just absorbs your darkness. Or perhaps he’s just a little hypocrite that doesn’t allow you to be pessimistic just like he is.

Even though you know.. you know that referring to Tate as pessimistic is the least you could call him.

You hate it when he gets clingy, and that happens very often. Who are you kidding? it always happens, hence why you always resort to unkind ways to get him to leave you. You just want to be alone sometimes.

Tate might argue with you and say that it’s more than sometimes, it’s always.

You’re not a good person, you know that. You’re selfish and you don’t care who you’re hurting when it comes to you and the decisions you make.

You didn’t care when you started hanging out with a boy and spent less and less time with Tate. Why did you do it though? You still question yourself.

Yeah, he might be clingy, attached to your hip, dependant on you and the list could go on just like that. But he was the only one that showed you how much you mean, or perhaps, how much you could mean to somebody.

You never thought it possible that a being could be so much for another being.

Tate is your only friend. Even though you’re not sure of that anymore since all you did for the past few weeks—maybe month, was avoiding and ignoring him.

At the beginning it was just to get a little time alone. But then it started becoming more of an avoidance, and now? You thought you were avoiding him out of shame.

But he was your only friend, and you pushed him away for what? To test if you could feel something different than the void you were currently drowning in? How could you have been that selfish?

His eyes seem to be asking you the same questions as he stares deep down inside your soul. His kaleidoscope honeyed eyes.

« I’ll.. » a sob breaks his voice, and his attempt to hold back his tears fails, making the tears break through and fall down his cheeks like diamonds, «.. I’ll leave never bother you again if that’s what you want »

For the first time in weeks you feel something so authentically powerful that it almost knocks the breath out of your lungs.

You’re sat there, on your messy, still unmade, bed as you’re looking into his eyes. And he stares back at you almost as if he has already been there, in that position— unwanted and thrown to the side, times and times before. But still it causes him pain.

It’s a subtle but yet stinging feeling. Like a cut being slit open again by a sharp dagger with its blade covered in salt. It’s a swift movement, a methodical cut, because it always seems to be hurting in the same spot.

You don’t say anything.

« You’re just like her. » Constance. Tears stream down his face like pouring rain. His voice taking the resemblance of a wave as sometimes it gets higher and other times it comes crashing down, stopping abruptly to let his tears fall down silently.

Just like rain in the ocean.

Silence fills the room yet again.

« Please.. p-please.. » How come that he’s the one begging you and not the other way around? What is he pleading for?

You frown looking at him, still staring into his eyes like a stone cold bitch. And you might’ve even been one to someone else’s eyes. But not to his.

You were just as hurt and lost as he was.

He got down on his knees, sliding on them on the carpeted floor until he was by your legs, as you were still sitting down on your bed. He sobbed and sniffled as he got in between your legs and let his head slowly come down to rest on your lap. «..d-don’t leave me.

you’re the only thing I have left.. y-you don’t have to do anything just.. p-please.. please I need you. You’re everything to me.. I-I’m.. I.. »

How could you have let everything spin out of control?

You were sorry.

You were so sorry.

Your vision became so blurry, almost as if a plastic wall was swiftly building itself up on your eyes, until it broke down and you felt warm droplets of water strike your cheeks. You were sorry as you could see the hurting boy sobbing on your lap because of your selfish behaviour.

You didn’t know what had happened to you to get you to this point, to hurt mindlessly like that the only person that cared about you. But you knew you were sorry and you wanted to wipe everything you did away.

Your hand, slowly, made its way on his head covered by the soft honeyed hair. You let your fingers slip and comb through the strands of his hair while you finally felt something.

« I’m sorry. » a broken whisper left your mouth.

just wanted to apologize again as i’m sure it came out more cringy than anything, but if you have some advice to give me please feel free to leave a comment ( or just straight up tell me to stop writing and never do it again 🤪 ).

[psychedelic-ink]

I'll probably delete this later but for some reason, I have the urge to make this update even though I feel weird about having that need to make it. I usually try not to post a lot of negativity here so sorry about that

here are my not-so-fun life updates. tw death, grief, loneliness

It's been a rough month due to a lot of things. The most significant reasons being loneliness and grief. The first one I always struggle with and I doubt it's going anywhere soon. The latter, well, I lost my grandmother 20 days ago and we buried my grandfather today as well. It's...hard. Even though we weren't blood-related (they're my stepmom's parents) They're the first relatives that I care about, and love, that died. I have so many memories with them and it happened so suddenly. They led a full life, my grandmother dying at 90 and grandfather at 95 but still, it feels sudden.

Again, not really sure why I'm making this post. I just feel bad. So incredibly lonely and nothing seems to make that weight I feel go away anymore. The therapist isn't working, my self boost talk isn't working. It just feels so empty and it's not just because of losing my grandparents, I've been feeling like this for a while. It's just getting worse and worse and I feel as if the loneliness is eating me alive, as dramatic as that sounds

Anyway, that's pretty much all I wanted to say. Still not sure why my brain is nudging me to post this. I'm not taking a hiatus or anything and I'll be posting like normal because as odd as it might be, tumblr and the fandom gives me so much joy

so yeah,,,,sending all of you hugs!

[kate-bishops-waifu]

"Ow."

A/N: Uhhhhh I kind of hate it but these cluster headaches have been so bad that I needed to give this to myself. Do not be surprised if I delete it later, as I am already terrified to post it. Very very mild blink and you'll miss it suggestive moment.

Word count: 1336

Library Date Gone wrong.

Kate whined a little pathetically and swore under her breath. tossing her handheld console on the couch, she dramatically pouted at the girl sitting next to her who was pointedly ignoring her complaints. She leaned over resting her head on one of the pillows and squinted her eyes hoping to garner some kind of attention. This proved unsuccessful.

“It happened again.”

Ophelia didn't make any discernible response, keeping her nose in her book. Kate went on.

“That same kid- every time. I start a match and he's there, messing up my score. You know he was one assist better than me? One! I think I cussed him out the other night. He might be a hacker. Do you think he has some kind of vendetta? Should I kick his ass? I think he's like 12 I told you I talked to him on chat once-”

Ophelia nodded vaguely.

“Babe, how are you still awake right now?”

That earned her a gentle shushing.

“I literally can't stay awake, I read like, one chapter and I'm zonked. How are you still so concentrated?”

“Mmph.” Ophelia mildly grumbled, then shut her book. “Too loud.”

“But- this is the fourth time. You know I got his user-”

“You know I love when you talk about your games but darling we had such a nice quiet little moment there. Can you tell me about Fortnite later?”

Kate huffed. “You kinda sound like that librarian. And I know you know I'm not playing fortnite.”

“She wasn't uptight, you were just being a bit loud.”

Kate smiled smugly. “Well I got you to pay attention to me.”

This was answered with a patient sigh.

Kate plopped her face on Ophelia's shoulder and whined once more. This did earn her a scratch on the head. She turned her head and looked up, running an index finger over ophelia's cheek. “You have dents in your cheeks. They're all sunken in like a corpse.”

“. . . Is that a compliment?”

“Yes.” Kate sat up, scooting even closer and gently ran a hand down Ophelia's side, sliding further until she reached hip and pressed her lips against the shell of her ear. “There's noone around,” hip gave way to thigh, where she bunched a bit of skirt into a fist.

Ophelia couldn't help her face feeling warm, shying away ever so slightly. “M-maybe right now's not the best idea- I'm sorry I just,”

Kate shook her head, a smile on her lips, “you’re good.”

“It's my favorite library is all an-”

“Babygirl you're fine. I'm just gonna stretch my legs ‘kay?”

“Zoomies?” Ophelia asked, hugging her book to her stomach.

“Yup.” Kate beamed and kissed her girl's forehead, hopping off the couch in the same movement and disappearing.

OphelIa settled a little more into the couch, keeping her feet up on the table and reached over for the coat Kate had left. She unfurled it and draped it over her legs like a blanket, pulling the collar up to sniff before picking her book back up again. Absently, she began to play with the fidget necklace around her neck, a gift from Kate.

It was forty five minutes before Kate returned, two single slice pizza boxes in one hand and sipping on a sugary coffee from the other.

For a moment she thought Ophelia had abandoned their stuff on the couch, but then she noticed her coat shift and she giggled to herself.

“Are you hiding there?” She set the food on the table and went to pull the coat off Ophelia’s head but was met with resistance. “You okay?” She pulled again, lifting it all the way off. The girl underneath was curled up as tightly as she could manage in the corner of the couch, the heel of her hand pressed into her right eye. “Woah, okay, not okay. What’s going on?”

Ophelia gave what amounted to a pretty pathetic “Oww.” and shifted to sit up.

“Headache?” Kate pulled Ophelia’s hand away from her face.

She nodded. Her right eye was watering, and slightly red from pressing it too hard.

“Did you bring your meds?”

She shook her head.

“Okay here, drink this. It’s coffee.” Kate handed her drink over, and with eyes closed Ophelia turned the straw towards herself and took a long sip. She pulled away for a moment, pursing her lips. “I know it’s a little sweet,” Kate smiled, her voice low. Ophelia took another sip anyway, and Kate replaced the coat over her head. “Let’s get you home yeah?” Kate gathered their things, slinging both of their bags over her shoulder and helping the beleaguered girl up from the couch.

Ophelia held on to Kate, her arms wrapped so she could hold the cold cup against her temple. She had to press herself against Kate so she didn’t feel like she would fall. It was an awkward trip through the library to Kate’s old purple VW Beetle where Ophelia curled up as tightly as she could in the passenger seat.

The ride home was short, and more painful than she wanted to admit, Ophelia’s head was getting worse by the moment, and every sharp turn or hard rev of the engine made it worse. Kate was such an enthusiastic driver, for want of a better term. She usually found some excuse to drive faster than the speed limit and she had become rather adept at weaving through traffic. Thankfully they made it to their apartment before long and Kate helped her out of the car, “I’ll carry you in?”

Ophelia gave what Kate assumed was a nod, and reached up. Kate maneuvered her arms around her neck and lifted her out of the car, Ophelia’s legs wrapping around her middle. She buried her face in Kate’s neck.

“Atta girl. Hey, I can totally see your petticoats. Cover up slut.” Kate whispered, earning a half hearted kick.

It was a bit tricky getting inside, but Kate managed to get the door unlocked, drop their bags by the front door, and get Ophelia upstairs and into bed without tripping on Lucky who was sniffing excitedly at her legs.

“There you go, let’s get you something more comfortable to wear?”

“Meds?” Ophelia whined from between the pillows.

“Right. Yeah. Where are they?”

She was met only with a shuttered cry, and a sharp point to the bedside table.

Kate did a clumsy half jump half crawl over the bed and tore open the drawer where she sorted through a couple varieties of pills before coming upon the right one. “Here, here, drink some water and take this. It’s gonna taste really bad so I’ll grab you something sour. That helps right?”

Ophelia only writhed in pain, one arm shooting up to pull Kate down with her.

“Okay-okay shh it’s okay.” Kate adjusted them so she was sitting against the pillow with Ophelia’s head tucked into the softest part of her shoulder, tears staining her shirt pretty quickly. “We should really get you into something more comfortable,” A shake of the head. “No, no right. Umm just- oh- hey. Look who's come to check on you.”

There was a dip in the mattress as Lucky hopped up sniffing at Ophelia’s dark curls, and settling down, his muzzle pressed against her back.

“See? It can’t be so bad, Pizza Dog’s here. He’ll, um, heal you with his gourmet pizza and nasty kisses?”

It must have been an hour or more before Ophelia fell asleep, her body exhausted from the pain. Kate couldn’t tell, but she breathed a final sigh of relief that there was no more of that terrifying writhing. She’d been kidnapped, jumped off skyscrapers, even shot at, but at the moment that felt totally mundane. A problem she could shoot at or hit. She didn’t know how to deal with this, as rare as they were. She hoped her heart wasn’t beating hard enough to wake the sleeping girl. She took a long deep breath, gave Lucky a pat on the head and closed her eyes.

[thetruthaboutnolan]

HEARD A NEW STORY ABOUT YOU FROM TEN YEARS AGO.

Ahh another one that magically popped up and with no proof at all no doubt. It’s always fun hearing new stories even if I already know how they are going to go. It’s always one of four ways and I’ll break them down with the actual truth of what really happened.

1) The thing that never happened.

Pretty self explanatory really. This is the story you’d see on r/thathappened really. It’s a made up tale either a complete work of fiction. Just a tale to add to the mythos or something they themselves made up out of a dream for whatever reason.

2) the thing you actually did or the tale you witness somewhere else.

It’s something that they saw happen on some group they were on and they erased the name of the people involved, of the group, and the year and inserted me and what they need to in order to do the story right. Also can be something they themselves did but are trying to change the narrative so it was me instead of them so they can muddy peoples memory and separate themselves from it while keeping someone in the frame so those that don’t remember the fine details can spread this version.

They have zero evidence of anything and the minute you question it they either get defensive as hell of delete it. A good example of this is that Katherine McNamara lady. She took the tale of when she and her friends were annoyed by one sixteen year old girl and sent a groomer and pedo in the group after her. She removed her friends, made me into the pedo, and her I to the victim. But she fucked up when she claimed the group was her own, on jcink, was a supernatural group, and discord was involved. When you question it and learn the group’s main was still up on tumblr and it was a slice of life site and discord wasn’t even public in the time she’s claiming, she instantly deleted the post and distanced herself from the tale but some people wanna believe it despite knowing it’s completely fake.

3) the mountain out of a mole hill.

This is pretty much the thing that might have annoyed someone and they/others made it into a Shakespearean drama. This from my experience are your ALR and WOTNA type dramas.

On the former I message someone asking if they saw my reply as I was waiting in their own, if not it’s cool I’m just letting them know. They tell me they are so sorry and and missed it but will reply right now. I then send two other messages each someone between 7 to 10 days apart again asking they they wanted to continue the thread and if not it’s cool I’ll just consider it done and the last that I’m dropping after seeing them reply and make other new threads and won’t post with them again unless they start the thread. Which didn’t even annoy the person I was sending it to, it annoyed the girl who was shipped with their character as she felt I was trying to move on to the ship despite having a thing with another female character and my character openly state and be known as a close friend almost little brother like figure for the character who according to her I was trying to steal the ship of. And some how she got the whole staff team to believe I was harassing multiple members and sexually doing something that was never clear. Only to later on be told by the staff and members that they person who started it all was known as being dramatic and insanely toxic but she had pull with the main admin so what she said went.

The WOTNA drama has been told to death and just like the ALR, staff and those involved have openly admitted it was made up drama, people spun their own made up tales to be involved in it, and it was good gossip. At the heart of it, it really was just my friend I was posting with bitched he didn’t like how I posted and made my character do a lot to progress the thread, he never told me this, kept bitching to one staff member about it, and that staff member spread it to others who then through out trigger words drama. Both my friend has said a lot of the stuff claimed he didn’t even know and never said and staff even said they were pretty sure so and so said it and it had to be true always also admitting when they had drama with someone else they just blamed it on me then would switch back to blaming someone else when they had drama with that person.

Small little things that range from an annoyance, lack of communication, or just born of jealousy that gets packed on and on til it’s this mutated thing that it never was but everyone thinks of as true. At least until it’s broken down and even then no one really knows what actually happened until you break down all the layers and see it all started over this small stupid thing.

4) The I hate you so fuck you.

This can be anyone from former friends, former staff/members, friend of a friend, someone you never interacted with or knew existed, or the person who is irrelevant trying to use you to be someone important. AKA a social climber.

They don’t know you but hate you because it’s popular and people will listen to or read in this case, anything with your name attached to it. They don’t realize you’re the draw and the one getting all the attention. The more they go off on you the more you get people both just over it and not caring and people wanting to hear your said and feeling bad for you having such a crazy loon wanting to ride your d. I call them fans and finally found out how to monetize them so getting some extra money every week thanks to them. It’s great, keep going haha.

[faunabel]

ugh sorry i have to rant/vent for a minute about my life i'll probably delete this later so i don't clog people's dashes with my feelings i probably sound insane but i'm just upset and tired

i'm so fucking sick of my mom's emotionally unavailable bullshit

i try at all to express to her my stress about something and she says i'm being fucking dramatic and gets mad at me and snaps at me for... attempting to confide in her (but it's my fault for thinking things will somehow be different this time)

get fucking skewered and cooked in the depths of hell

god fucking forbid your child expresses any negative emotion towards you

i'm so fucking tired of being alone to deal with my emotions 24/7

when will someone care about me and when will i have to stop doing everything by myself

sorry i'm "weak" because i spent my entire fucking life fending for myself and asking for any help gets me into trouble because my family is a bunch of pieces of shit

oh to know what its like to be fucking cared about for once with no strings attached

i could start laughing i'm so tired of this shit my throat hurts from my body refusing to let me cry

i'm so angry i want to just say fuck this world and everything in it

what has it ever done for me but made me suffer even when i tried so hard to be a good person and alleviate other people's suffering. none of it mattered.

just take your happy passive bitch and shut up already

and we wonder why i struggle with dissociation when i had to do it to survive my mother's bullshit because how does a child survive around a parent who causes them distress but they have no choice but to stay in contact

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

holding out for the day someone will be there for me emotionally haha...... but how can i not be afraid of trusting people when people always end up hurting me in the end. every time i try to communicate it backfires. i'm tired of getting burned. i'm so lonely but what's the alternative. i'm just supposed to be happy like a toy for everyone else to be entertained by at best :) and beat on at worst :)

i really don't care if it sounds edgy. the world is lucky i try so hard to focus on the good and how the future MIGHT be better and how i don't want to hurt people. because it's done nothing for me but cause pain so i have no reason not to watch it burn.

but it's fine :) i already forget what i was upset about.

no no it's fine it's all actually hilarious.

i don't have the energy to be a toy anymore.

is it fucked up i feel guilty for even wanting people to be there for me? it used to make me horrendously angry but eventually it stopped being the bare minimum. now it's like a treat if i'm good enough.

i just feel like it's expecting too much to want someone to listen to my sorrows haha. it always has been.

[tea-twords]

God fucking damnit

I never thought I would get so attached to an NPC

Like a literal side character, who's probably only part of one quest

But Teppei

Teppei had so much to him, so much personality, so much potential, so much to look forward to

Didn't even have a vision or anything like that, just an ambitions guy with a strong will

And then he died

And I'm still so fucking messed up about that I literally loved him so much

His last moments absolutely broke me, and I genuinely cannot remember the last time I shed a tear for an NPC death

I love this fucking game so much, not only because of the happiness I feel when I play, but the sadness it can bring you all the same

Rest In Peace, Teppei

[laws-yellow-submarine]

My friend's new apartment building has the PERFECT view of the sky from her parking lot and we literally stood outside at 3 am yesterday just *staring* and I'm still feeling all the feelings from it a whole day later lol I don't write poetry much, cause I dunno how to write it without it being "prose-y" (if that makes sense), but I literally got home last night and just wrote everything it made me feel down on paper and it's so weird cause it's like I couldn't stop, more and more words came to the surface (and it's kinda happening now too and it's freaking me out but in a good way? Lmao). That magic I wrote about in that Hazel/Zoro oneshot I did for OPOS? This is what I was talking about lol

I kinda wanna share what I wrote down but I'm also like ehhh nervous about ever showing anyone cause it's very unstructured and deeply personal, but it also feels like something that wants to be out in the world, you know?

I dunno...it's 3 am again and I'm rambling and feeling small lol it feels like I'm running towards a door that keeps getting progressively farther and farther away, but if I could just reach it I'd find everything I ever wanted...🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ gotta love existential crises lmao

[the-prince-of-professors]

Thinking back and it’s like... BBC Sherlock was like my stormy intense romance who I thought I was in love with and who ended with a bitter aftertaste, but who introduced me to someone who turned out to be one of my best friends (canon Holmes & Watson + other adaptations), and who in their turn introduced me to who actually turned out to be the frickin love of my life (Raffles & Bunny). Now I’m happily married. 

[bitch-banshee]

Quitting...

Should I quit writing?

No one really reads the stuff I post anyways ya know? And I’m putting al this work into it..I know it’s not about recognition but I don’t wanna keep posting if no one cares ya know?

I just...I don’t get requests, the ideas I have don’t get a response, I’m at the point where I just feel like it’s me. Every other blog I follow has a lot of traction on their page, and I’m so happy for them. But on the other side of the coin I’m so jealous because I want that. I want someone to get really excited about my writing, or to tell me that I totally offended them with the ending. I want someone to be as excited about it as I am...

I dunno...this is just my whine for that day. I’m sorry. But I needed to get it out

[selfcarecap]

Big Dick Energy [p.p]

Summary: Peter overhears you say something, making him worry about the size of his dick.

This was just a super random idea i had and i thought it was just cr*ck my mind would forget in 20 minutes, but suddenly i turned it into a whole one shot sksjsh don’t judge me (if this is your first fic of mine that you’re reading... pls go read another one first to decide if you like my writing lmaoo😭)

Warnings: this was not supposed to be anything serious lmao, this has smut but ... idk the talk leading up to the smut is the weird thing here ahah, um squirting, mention of blood, sorry if there’s weird spacing, i’m posting this on my phone. Overuse of the word dick. Peter referring to his dick as ‘he’?

word count: 3.8k

-this is a repost of an old fic- idek if i like it but it had over 1k notes so i figured some people don’t want it deleted?

gif not mine <3

Peter isn‘t eavesdropping. He just feels like he‘s been neglecting his enhanced hearing lately, so he wants to appreciate it more by putting it to good use— by listening to your voice. He loves your voice.

He just so happens to listen to you while you‘re having a rather private conversation with your friend Betty.

“So she told me they had sex for the first time last night and she said it was really as big as she‘s seen in porn, and there was blood everywhere,“ Betty says, a dramatic tone in her voice.

Even though your back is turned to him he can picture you scrunching up your nose, “Oh god. People don’t say have your first time with someone who has a small dick for no reason.”

Peter’s eyes immediately drift down to his lap.

Wait what? He thought girls preferred big dicks and now they prefer small dicks? He thought his dick size was never something he had to worry about, as his dick always seemed quite decent to him. If anything he did worry that he’s not quite big enough, and now he might be too big?

That night he sits down on his bed with a ruler and his phone.

Turns out he’s at least average, even a little above - depending on the website. He frowns when he measures his hard dick for the third time. It’s not going to get smaller the more he measures, so he pulls his pants pack up and goes to bed with a frown. He doesn’t even want to jerk off anymore.

All he can think of is you, and not in the way you would expect while he’s hard. He can’t touch himself while he’s worried about you not liking his dick. He wants you to like his dick.

Oh. And then there’s the fact that you’re not even together, so you might never see his dick. But Peter is nothing if not hopeful.

Then Peter’s mind starts racing. What if you were talking from experience? What if you have had sex already? You two are best friends, but you’re still a guy and a girl, and talking about sex is already awkward enough when Peter and Ned talk about it, so he never thought about talking about sex with you. Not that he has much to talk about anyway.

He wouldn’t care if you’ve had sex already, he wouldn’t judge you. But his blood boils when you just hug another guy, so thinking about you having sex with another guy, and not telling him on top of that, makes him want to punch something.

Peter barely sleeps that night.

He just can’t stop thinking about it.

He must have misunderstood you. He was so sure that big dicks are considered good, and small dicks are bad. Why would you suddenly prefer a small dick? He tries to replay your conversation he overheard earlier in his head, but all he can remember is you talking about having sex with someone with a small dick.

Maybe you were being sarcastic, and he didn’t get it because he couldn’t see your expression.

Peter was never one to worry about his dick. Now he hears you say one sentence and he thinks about it for days. He’ll have to ask you about it or he’ll go crazy.

You’re studying together a few days later, separately doing your college assignments. Peter finished his studying a few minutes ago, and now he’s just waiting for you to be done, so he can ask you… about dicks. He tries not to think about it too much, otherwise he’ll chicken out.

He’s distracting himself with some Subway Surfers to pass the time, and he doesn’t notice how you clear up all your papers. All he knows is you’re doing a whole body stretch right next to him, your limbs spreading out over the bed- and now him.

He’s about to break his record on the game when your arm brushes against his thigh, dangerously close to his lap.

Peter drops his phone, jumping as you touch him.

“You okay?” You ask, turning around to face him.

“Y-yeah, I didn’t notice you were done already.”

“Yup. All done for the weekend. So, what do you wanna do?” You’re lying on your belly now, head resting on your folded arms.

Peter tries to find the words he wants to say to you. He’s about to ask if you were being serious when you said it, but then he remembers he was eavesdropp—... appreciating his enhanced hearing, and you don’t know he was listening at the time.

“Um, I heard, actually I read something the other day and I wanted to ask you about it.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“But it’s a weird topic, and it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it or something.”

“Why, what is it?” you ask, sitting up. You lean against the headboard next to him.

“Uhh well. I read that girls- that girls. Uh, when they have... sex, they try to have sex with a guy who has a small dick. And I thought, well, I thought that girls like big dicks. So, uhm, I was just wondering what you, as a girl, think about that.”

You stifle a laugh. You thought Peter was about to ask something serious.

“Actually, Betty and I were talking about the other day. One of her friends wanted to have sex, and she wanted to quickly have her first time to get it over with. And she apparently chose a guy with the biggest dick ever, and she was so surprised that it hurt.”

“Wait what?” Peter asks.

“So, if you want to have sex, then it makes sense to go for a guy with a small dick because it hurts less,” you explain with a shrug.

“Oh. Ok. Yeah, that makes sense. Wait so it’s just because of the pain during the first times?”

“Yeah.”

“But what if your boyfriend has a big dick. I mean would you have your first time with a guy who has a small dick? Um, assuming you haven’t had sex yet,” he mumbles the last part. Even though he knows you’ve never even kissed anyone.

“Of course I would. No girl goes around asking boys how big their dicks are to determine who she should have her first time with. It’s more of a joke, or if anything just for people who want to get it over with, their first time, I mean,” you see Peter slowly become less tense.

“So yeah, of course I’d have my first time with a guy with a big dick as long as I love him. But honestly I kind of have hope that it's not going to hurt too much anyway. If I liked the guy I’m with then I should be.. you know,” you motion with your hand, hoping he knows what you’re trying to say.

“Um. I don’t know where you’re going with this,” he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“I just mean, I hope I’ll be wet enough anyway, so that it just … like… slides in.”

“Oh- yeah of course, mhm,” Peter swallows and looks away.

“Why?” you ask, as the purpose of his questioning slowly sinks in, “Are you afraid that your dick is too big?” You purposely lie down on his thighs that are stretched across the bed.

He doesn’t look at you.

You sit up again, “Wait really? Can I see?” It just slips out, you don’t know why you said it. But also, you really do want to see.

“What, no!” He pulls his legs against his chest, “It’s not big, but it’s not small either. I was just wondering because of what you said- what I read, I mean.”

“So it’s like average?”

“I don’t know how many inches exactly,” you raise your eyebrows, and his cheeks turn a deep red, “but I guess a bit more than average.”

“The thing is, Peter, I don’t know much about... dicks or how big average is,” He doesn’t say anything, so you try again, “You’re just gonna tell me about your dick and then not let me see it? That’s kinda mean. I’m your best friend, don’t you trust me?”

You don’t know why you’re so persistent about this. If any other guy told you this much about his dick you would have kicked him by now.

“That’s not- that’s not how it works.”

You can tell Peter doesn’t want to show you his dick. But you also know him, and he’s not truly uncomfortable. He’s just a little embarrassed. You’ll stop as soon as you sense that he’s genuinely upset.

You’re about to make a joke, but he says something first, “It- he’s not fully hard right now, so you wouldn’t see him in the um required state for sex-”

“Not fully hard? But a bit hard? And.. he?”

“I can’t control it, okay? And I can’t call him it. He has quite a personality, you know?” Peter says, a slight smile on his lips before he pushes a pillow against his face, letting it fall into his lap afterwards.

“But wouldn’t... he be in the ideal state like that? It.. or he won’t be too big so that it would seem intimidating, you know?

You really want to see Peter’s dick. You don’t know why, but you do. You’re really trying to convince your best friend to show you his dick.

“Anyway, it wouldn’t be fair. So I show you my dick but what do I get in return?”

Without so much as a second thought, you pull up your shirt, exposing your chest. You’re not wearing a bra, and your nipples harden against the cool air. Peter’s eyes go wide, and he pouts when you drop the hem of your shirt again.

“Now you,” you smile, voice a bit quiet.

“Woah- wow. I was not expecting that. You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?”

“Nope.” You pull your legs against your chest, feeling your nipples poke against your shirt uncomfortably.

“O-okay,” Peter says.

He throws the pillow that was on his lap off the bed, readjusting his sitting position. You see his fingers tremble as he undoes his belt.

“Hey, Pete, wait. You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. We can just forget it.“

He gives you a shy smile, “No, it’s only fair. A deal’s a deal.”

You lick your lips in anticipation, and it feels like he unzips his jeans in slow motion.

A few seconds pass while he pulls down his jeans and boxers in one go, and then he’s holding his hard cock in his hand. It’s glistening at the tip.

Your breath hitches but you try not to seem too bothered. “You’re right, it’s definitely not small. But... I think I could take that,” you say, surprising yourself.

“Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, getting under the blanket and pulling off your sweatpants.

“W-what, right now?”

“Yeah. C’mere.”

Peter joins you under the blanket, getting between your legs.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, and he nods eagerly.

You move to place your hands on his cheeks but his lips are already on yours. Your heart beats wildly as his lips move against your own.

He’s only semi stable on top of you, holding himself up awkwardly, with his cock in his hand, holding it back so it doesn’t touch you.

You notice his hand and look up at him, “It’s okay.”

He reluctantly lets go of his cock and you reach down, wrapping your hand around him.

You start jerking him off, unsure if he’s enjoying it, “Does that feel okay?”

He takes your hand, bringing it up to his mouth. He licks up your palm shyly and guides it back down to his cock.

This time he lets out a breathy moan as you go up and down his cock. He looks so beautiful with his eyebrows scrunched together, biting his lip.

“Wait, I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

“Okay,” you smile nervously, dropping your hand. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling your panties to the side so you can find out what it feels like to have him inside of you.

Peter looks down and smiles, leaning down to kiss you again.

His cock brushes against your inner thigh for a second, and a weird feeling shoots through your whole body. You immediately let go of your panties, letting them slide back in place, and you roll to the side, away from Peter.

“Wait, I’m not ready. Sorry.”

He backs off as soon as you say that, “No don’t apologise. I- I don’t really know if I was ready either.”

You stare at each other for a few seconds, Peter clutching the blanket while he pulls his boxers back up.

“Sorry,” you repeat, feeling bad for leading him on.

“Don’t say that, there’s really no need,” he smiles.

You lick your lips as you see the bulge straining against his underwear, scooting closer to him, “I could still... help you with that.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I kinda liked watching you when I was touching you just now.”

A blush coats his cheeks, and he can’t help but smile, “If you’re sure you want to, then yes please.”

You nod, pulling his cock from his boxers, spitting in your hand as you start again.

Peter leans back on his hands, throwing his head back as your thumb rubs over the tip.

Once you get a good rhythm, you look into his eyes, and he can’t seem to look away, even though he’s blushing up to the tips of his ears.

“Fuck I-” He squeezes his eyes shut as thick ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, painting his grey shirt. You barely manage to hold in your own moans as Peter tips his head back, groaning as he cums more.

You slow your movements when Peter opens his eyes again, looking refreshed. Letting go of his softening cock, you wipe your hand on his shirt. He pulls his boxers back in place, looking down at his shirt with a red glow on his face.

“Um, I should probably...” he mumbles, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor.

You give him some space, scooting to the other side of the bed with your ankles crossed.

“What about you?” He asks, licking his lips.

“What about me?” I-I’m fine,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how horny you still are.

“I can kinda see how wet you are,” he smiles.

You close your legs quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t have to but uh. I can try to make you feel good.”

You think for a second, looking down at his legs.

“You know, I always liked your thighs.”

“My thighs?”

“Mhm,” you crawl over to him, straddling his leg. Your pussy is pulsing already, and you hope he can’t feel it, “Is this okay?”

He still looks a little confused, but he nods, pulling you closer, your pussy rubbing up against his thigh in the process, and you hope he doesn’t hear the small whimper that slips out.

With the way he smiles at you, you can’t tell if he heard or if he’s just smiling because you’re straddling him and you’re half naked.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and you start making out again. It’s more steady this time and after a while you feel comfortable enough to start grinding against his leg.

His hands wander down to your ass, supporting the movement of your hips.

He pulls away shortly, “Fuck, you’re hot,” he whispers, and crashes his lips against yours again.

You’re so wet that it doesn’t matter how you move, as long as there’s some kind of friction. But when Peter starts flexing his thigh you wonder how you ever got off without that feeling.

You try to keep on kissing him, only so his eyes remain shut.

You’re not too shy to shamelessly grind against his thigh but you can’t have him watching you so closely while you do it.

When you can no longer concentrate on making out with him, you bury your face in his neck. For the first time you notice that you can hear how wet you are.

But Peter flexes his thigh again, and before you can become embarrassed by how horny you are, the pleasure takes over.

You bite into his shoulder to muffle your moans as you keep grinding against him, your pussy pulsing against his muscles.

Peter kisses the side of your face once you stop moving. You pull back, not daring to look at him, and you bashfully get off of him. You’re surprised that his thigh isn’t coated in your arousal.

You finally look up at Peter who has nothing but adoration in his eyes. He tries to get words out but he’s speechless, making you giggle.

“God, I’ve never been this wet. Do you think you could...” you stop before the words leave your mouth.

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” he insists, a hand on your leg.

“So... I’ve never fingered myself, mainly because I can’t find the right angle, but I was thinking since I’m really wet and you have a different perspective and better angle maybe you could…”

“Finger you?”

“Only if you want to,” you brush a hand over your hair.

“Yeah- yes of course.” He eagerly gets between your thighs, a bright smile on his face.

As you slip out of your panties you’re nearly embarrassed to see what a mess you made in them.

He stares at your dripping pussy for a bit, and you see a new bulge forming under his boxers.

“Peter?” You nudge him.

“Yeah- sorry, so um, is it here?”

He spreads your legs, placing his index finger right at your entrance.

“Yeah, right there.”

He starts sliding his finger in, slow at first. But with all your arousal he slides all the way in right away, shooting you a worried look to see if it hurts.

“Can you do another finger?”

“Mhm. Tell me if it hurts.” He changes the position of his hand, sliding in another finger.

You arch your back, pushing against him, “Can you um. Can you-” you’ve forgotten nearly every word from how good he feels.

He guesses what you want, and he guesses correctly, his fingers now thrusting into you at a slow pace.

“Yeah- just faster,” you say.

You feel his thumb on your pussy, not doing anything, and it distracts you from the delicious feeling of his fingers inside of you.

“Can you do something else with your thumb,” you complain, and Peter’s mouth falls open as if he’s been caught red handed.

“I-I‘ve seen that in porn so I thought it might feel good but uh.”

“If you’re looking for my clit, that’s here,” you guide him. You’re so wet and swollen, it feels like he could just rest his thumb on your clit for a few minutes and you’d cum.

He gets into it again, his tongue pressing against his lip in concentration as he fingers you.

Peter is good at following your instructions, getting even quicker and more rough every time you ask him to.

His thumb brushes against your clit with every thrust and it adds to that special feeling that brings you closer to your release with every second.

You’re scrunching your shirt between your fingers harder with every time Peter moves his fingers in and out of your wet pussy. You whine when he hits a particularly deep spot inside of you, and he presses his fingertips even deeper inside of you.

Peter pushes his fingers up and into you and suddenly you feel the urge to—

With a high pitched gasp you squirt all over Peter’s chest, as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had washes through you.

Your mouth hangs open, so does Peter’s. While his eyes tell you this is the hottest thing he’s ever seen you can’t stop the embarrassment you feel just a second after your orgasm is over.

“Wow-” he starts.

“I’m so sorry,” you say at the same time.

“W-what, no? What? I deliberately did that. That was so sexy, no need to say sorry at all.”

“How do you know how to make a girl squirt?”

He blushes, his fingers still inside of you, “I, when I googled the thing about um dick sizes I came across the whole C spot thing.”

“It’s G.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re cute,” you say. You press your lips against his, but his fingers push into you further again and you jump.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you. He casually licks his fingers that are coated in your arousal, humming to himself at the taste.

You don’t comment on it, fearing you’ll become horny again if you think about it too much.

He lets you go to the bathroom first, and when you come back you see his stained shirt on the floor.

“Should I help you wash that? It’d be a bit awkward if May found that in the washing.”

“Oh yeah, thanks. Uh I’ll just do it.”

He comes back a few minutes later in a fresh shirt and boxers, the bulge now gone. After throwing his wet t-shirt over the radiator he joins you on the bed.

You both lie there in silence, tired but also tense as you wonder what this means.

“You know for some reason I always imagine having my first time with you. Even though, up until today at least, I didn’t think of you as more than a friend,” you admit, quickly adding, “I mean if today even meant something…”

“I hope it did. It meant something to me,” he says.

“Good.” You take his hand, and you smile at each other.

“I always imagine having sex for the first time with you too. That’s why I was so worried in the first place when I heard that girls are so concerned about the pain and would prefer someone with a small dick for their first time... So you don’t think my dick is too big?”

You giggle, “Your dick is perfect, Peter. And I’m sure we’ll make it fit once we’re both ready.”

“So you want us to be together?” He asks, hopeful.

You simply kiss him, your hands cupping his cheeks. You feel him smile into the kiss.

“You just made me squirt, Pete. You’re not going anywhere,” you smile.

“Good, because I wasn’t planning on leaving,” he says before he kisses you silly.

[onlinekitsune]

kiss goodnight | s.c

pairing: saeyoung choi + gn!reader

word count: 1263, very short

author’s note: this is my first time actually posting writing like this! i apologize in advance for the possible grammar mistakes and just lack of flow. i am a little bit rusty with writing, but i hope you enjoy! i might edit this or possibly delete it. i am not very confident in it, but i really really wanted to post at least something. 

synopsis: somewhat of an au of what if mc didn’t romance anyone until the rfa was back to ‘normal’, celebratory dinner turns into the both of you mutually confessing your feelings

the sound of clattering silverware and various bits and pieces of conversation spilled into your ears. you all decided to have a celebratory dinner for your one year anniversary with the rfa. it was a very eventful year, in ways you never expected, but nonetheless you were grateful. your eyes roamed across the table, seeing jumin and zen bicker probably over something cat related. jaehee was deep in a glass of wine, simply enjoying herself. if anyone deserved to be relaxing, it'd be her. yoosung and saeyoung seemed to be in their own world as well. yoosung's eyes widened as saeyoung deviously began spilling out the most fabricated story anyone has ever heard. but sweet, young, and naïve yoosung was in the spider's web. your eyes focus back on saeyoung, being very enthusiastic about this story. his hair would gently bounce up occasionally while he'd dramatically talk with his hands. it was very charming. he was very charming. with the time you've spent with the rfa, it was hard not to gravitate towards him. "i mean, if you don't believe me... i'm sure you'd believe them. right?" he smirked, nodding his head towards yourself. you gave a small sigh and leaned in towards the two.

"well, he is right." you sighed, "saeyoung would never lie about this, at all. it's pretty serious... for him." you actually had no idea what was even the topic but you had a soft spot continuing saeyoung's chaotic antics. 

"wait, really? i thought... i'm sorry i thought that.." yoosung replied, his sentence fading away as you once again get lost in your sea of thoughts containing the messy haired boy in front of you. it was a little difficult to differentiate between your actual feelings or silly tipsy feelings. you push the thoughts away, deciding to deal with that later. you had more important matters to take care of, like tricking yoosung with whatever saeyoung sunk into his brain.

hours had passed and one by one, each of the members decided to leave. the apartment wasn't far so you decided to see everyone off. and soon it was just you and saeyoung. he offered to walk you home, which was more of a demand. he couldn't let you walk alone especially alone and tipsy. which you denied multiple times but he insisted. "thank you, saeyoung." you smiled, walking out of the restaurant. 

"for what?" he asked, tilting his head a bit. he reminded you of a puppy sometimes. he'd be so smart and other times there would be nothing in that head of his. you turn your head away from him, hiding the smile forming across your face.

"walking me home, i am pretty much sober now. you didn't have to, but i appreciate the gesture." you uttered, slightly bumping into his shoulder. "i'm glad you decided to come, i was a little worried you wouldn't. i know saeran is still trying to get used to everything.” he nodded, not saying anything. you metaphorically kicked yourself, knowing that it was still a sensitive subject.

“yeah, but thanks for inviting the both of us. i know... it’s a little awkward between us and the rfa a little bit. i really.. uh.. appreciate inviting us both.”

“oh! it’s no worries! ahah, i didn’t want him to feel left out at least. i know it’s hard dealing with... everything. but, i don’t harbor any bad feelings or anything. and i want you both to know that! i would still really like the both of you to continue being and feeling comfortable here.” you beamed. saeyoung gave a soft smile. you two continued walking in silence, a comfortable silence. there was something about him that made even silence the most soothing thing. “saeyoung-”

a sudden boom of thunder interrupted your thought, spilling any thought you had in your brain. you jumped almost falling onto the pavement if it wasn’t for saeyoung. along with the thunder, came the rain. it was instant, leaving no time to pour onto the streets. without any hesitation, saeyoung picked you up to carry you bridal style. you face turns a bright red, still shocked of the quick turn of events. and what seemed like a matter of seconds, you were at the front door. he gently placed you back down and waiting for you to open the door. your hands shook a bit, twisting the key in. you couldn’t tell from what, but it didn’t matter. you walked in to your dark apartment, turning to face saeyoung. he gave a smile before going to walk away.

“you’re just going to leave?” you called out, instantly covering your mouth. you didn’t mean to say that but it just spilled out. “i mean, it’s raining pretty hard... you’d take the chance of ruining your seats without an umbrella. y-you’re free to stay a while... if you want.” your hand drew circles on the back of the door. the nervous shook your core as you awaited a response.

“uh, well, i guess i can stay a bit until the rain stops” he murmured, turning around. he slowly walked in the apartment gazing around the space. you’d admit you got a little carried away redecorating it. it looked different, but it was a good different. a better different from everything that happened here. “it looks... nice. i like it.”

your hands curled up towards your chest, before you shook yourself. what were you doing? what are these feelings? did you sincerely start falling for him? it... wasn’t hard to do. saeyoung had a charm to him. he was sweet, immensely caring, and the funniest guy you’ve ever met. 

“hey? you okay?” the voice ran chills down your spine. you looked up to see saeyoung give you a worried smile. “you know, you’ve been acting a little odd, since the dinner. i’m a special agent, i have a knack for spotting these things yanno.” he grinned, lighting the mood a bit. you playfully rolled your eyes and moved in closer. his eyes looked so bright somehow, even in your dimly lit kitchen. 

“oh really. if you’re so good at this, then why am i acting so odd? do you.. know?” you whispered, leaning in closer. you could slightly smell perhaps his shampoo? maybe his lotion? it gave a slight apple cider smell, it was cute. saeyoung just raised his eyebrow and slightly bit his lip. you were never this bold but, it just felt so natural. “you’re... too charming. it’s so very distracting, yanno?” you went to grab his hands, they just laid there entangled in yours. saeyoung didn’t move or really react. it was almost as if he was just frozen in time. “it’s hard pretending that they’re not there. uh, these feelings... for you. clearly. i don’t know how long they’ve been there, i think i just realized them now. i know maybe it’s not the right time or... maybe it’s one-sided but...”

just like the thunder, saeyoung pulling you closer to his arms startled you. as you were once again lost in your own world, trying to find the best words to say to him. but maybe there was none. there was no words to truly put out there that was even begin to explain every emotion you felt with him. and it was okay, because sometimes words aren’t enough. he rested his forehead onto yours, pausing for a moment. he tucked a loose hair strand from your face, letting out a soft sigh. along followed five simple words along with a sweet kiss.

“i think i love you.”

[rubysunnday]

Hi!! If this doesn't catch your eye, then feel free to delete this.

Could I please request a Bridgerton imagine where Eloise meets Reader and realises that R would be perfect for one of her brothers (you can decide which one)? Eloise then tries to matchmake them or even just introduce them to each other??

so, this is love

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N/N.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Eloise, you can give me the sad eyes all you want, my answer is not going to change.”

“But if you just -”

“Eloise, I will burn you with this cigarette in a minute - stop it.”

Eloise slumped back against the tree and gave Y/N a glower that would rival Anthony. Y/N - who’d been friends with the Bridgerton’s for almost four years - ignored the glowering glare her friend was giving her and puffed on her cigarette.

“Are you coming to the ball tomorrow?” Eloise asked, dropping her glower. She reached over and snatched the cigarette out of Y/N’s hand.

“Yes, of course,” Y/N replied, frowning. “You know I am - no.”

“One dance.”

“No.”

“Just one.”

“No.”

Eloise practically growled. “Oh, come on, Y/N! You love Colin!”

“Yes, as a friend, El,” Y/N replied, scoffing. “Don’t you dare try and set me up with your brother.”

Eloise sighed but held her hands up in surrender. “Alright, I won’t. But you’ll still come tomorrow?”

“I don’t really have much choice,” Y/N muttered. “I promised your mother and Anthony.”

Eloise smirked. “She’s terrifying, isn’t she?”

“Put together with Anthony, I felt as if I was going to be executed if I didn’t say yes!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “He glowered at me, El. Glowered.”

“Ah, yes, Anthony Bridgerton’s infamous glower,” Eloise said, nodding. She handed the cigarette back to Y/N. “Now you have to come.”

Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh as she took the cigarette. “Very funny, El.”

“What’s funny?”

Y/N jumped and almost fell off the swing she was sitting on. “Jesus Christ, Benedict!” She exclaimed, putting a hand on her chest. 

“Sorry,” Benedict said, struggling not to smile. He sat down on the swing next to her and held his hand out for the cigarette. 

“Oh, we’re all just sharing now, are we?” Y/N muttered, handing the cigarette to him. 

“We were just talking about how Mother and Anthony managed to make Y/N agree to attend the ball tomorrow night,” Eloise said, picking at the grass around her.

“He glowered, she smiled,” Y/N muttered, shuddering either from the sudden gust of wind or the memory of being cornered in Anthony’s office.

Benedict laughed and choked on the smoke he accidentally inhaled. “Once they corner you, there's no escape, believe me, I know!”

Y/N groaned, slouching as much as she could in the swing. “I don’t want to go, though - no offence.”

“None taken,” Eloise called, shaking her head. “I don’t want to go either.”

Y/N groaned again and leant back on the swing, tilting her head back until her hair was touching the grass. She pushed herself back and forth with her feet as she contemplated her impending doom, half listening to the conversation Benedict and Eloise were having.

She’d never been one for balls - she was a introvert like Eloise - and preferred hiding in her house (or Bridgerton house which was quickly becoming a second home to her) reading a book. 

When she’d first entered society she’d been a wallflower. Y/N and Eloise had met at a ball and had bonded over the fact neither one wanted to be there. A few balls later and Y/N found herself dancing with Colin Bridgerton.

It hadn’t taken much before she fell down a rabbit hole titled Big Crush on Colin Bridgerton. 

Not that she would ever admit it to anyone. Unfortunately, Eloise had found out and - after much badgering and nagging - Y/N had reluctantly admitted that she was right and ever since then, Eloise had been determined to set her up with her brother. 

Y/N had been avoiding Colin ever since Eloise had found out, not that she thought he’d noticed.

Y/N tilted back a bit further and yelped as she lost her balance and fell onto the grass. “Oh, right, that’s it, I’m not going,” she moaned, staring up at the tree and glowering at the inconvenience that had just occurred to her. 

Benedict snorted as he stood up and held out a hand to her. “Oh, stop complaining, Y/N/N, you’ll be fine. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Y/N begrudgingly took Benedict’s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and pull a twig out her hair. “Yes, and then the entire ton can glare at me because I’m friends with the most eligible bachelors in London.”

Benedict smacked her on the back of the head and Y/N slapped his arm in retaliation.

“Children,” Eloise called - sounding scarily like Violet. “Y/N, you are coming whether you like it or not. In fact, I’m going to make Benedict come and get you at noon tomorrow so you can get ready here.”

“And so I don’t run away?” Y/N added, raising an eyebrow at Eloise.

“That too.”

Y/N muttered something that sounded suspiciously like she was cursing the entire Bridgerton name, but she nodded. “Fine. Benedict can come and get me.”

“I’m so glad I’m appreciated by you,” Benedict said sarcastically, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s such a refreshing change.”

She wasn’t hiding.

There just happened to be a significantly large potted plant in front of the chair she was sitting in. 

Y/N had to admit that she did look beautiful. The midnight blue dress sparkled in the dozens of candles dotted around the room and her hair had been pinned up with jewelled violet hair pins that Violet had leant her for the night.

That didn’t, however, change the fact that she didn’t want to be there and was trying her hardest to avoid Colin. 

Eloise, however, had had the opposite idea and had been glued to Colin’s side the entire night, trying to find Y/N and make her dance with her brother. 

“Is my Mother’s orange tree plant providing subtle enough cover, Y/N/N, or would you like a cheese plant as well?”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at Anthony. “I know you’re joking but I wouldn’t mind if it happened to appear next to the orange tree.”

Anthony chuckled and sat down next to her, offering her one of the glasses of lemonade he’d been holding. “You can’t hide behind a plant all evening.”

“I’m doing a pretty good job of it so far,” she retorted, sipping on the drink. “It is a very nice plant.”

“Why are you hiding?” Anthony asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Your sister is trying to set me up with Colin,” Y/N muttered, glowering at the plant as if it was Eloise’s face.

“Who? El?” “Yes, Eloise,” Y/N snapped. “Once that woman gets an idea she physically cannot let it go until she’s finished with it.”

Anthony laughed. “You’re hiding from Eloise?”

“She’s terrifying when she’s on a mission, Anthony,” Y/N replied, turning in her chair to look at her friend. “You’ve seen her with the whole Whistledown fiasco.”

“I was wondering why she’s been glued to Colin’s side or night,” Anthony mused.

Y/N groaned, dramatically throwing her head back against the wall. “I’m doomed, Anthony. Doomed.”

“Let it never be said you’re not dramatic,” Anthony muttered, sipping his drink. “Want to dance?”

“If I dance she might see me. I should hide behind foliage when possible.”

“She’s not a predator, Y/N. Besides, you promised me a dance,” Anthony said, standing up and holding his hand out.

“No,” Y/N grumbled, taking his hand and letting him drag her onto the floor, “she’s an apex predator.” 

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Yes, alright, she’s an apex predator. Now, I know you don’t like my family tonight but please try to avoid stepping on my toes, these shoes have just been polished.”

Y/N resisted the childish urge to stamp on Anthony’s foot, just to prove a point. 

The dance was a slightly energetic one - a far cry from a waltz, thankfully - and Y/N found that she was actually enjoying herself. Anthony spun her around the room and lifted her up into the air, watching her giggle with excitement with a triumphant smile.

The song slowly came to an end and they bowed to each other. Y/N giggled again and hugged Anthony.

“I enjoyed that, thank you,” Y/N said, almost beaming. “Oh, fuck.”

Anthony, forgetting that Y/N had spent too much time around them and probably knew more swear words than he did, gaped at her. “What?”

Y/N nodded behind him with fear in her eyes. “I’ve been snared.”

“Y/N! There you are!” Eloise called, barging through the crowd and dragging Colin behind her. Colin followed his sister with an amused smile. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“And I’ve been dancing with Anthony,” Y/N replied, trying to avoid looking at Colin. 

Eloise’s eyes narrowed at her for a second. “Colin has a question to ask you,” she said, pushing her brother forward.

Colin stepped forward and Y/N was forced to look at him. She titled her head up - no matter what height she seemed to be, he always seemed to be taller - and met his gaze. She struggled to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he made eye contact with her and smiled.

“I was wondering if you would like to waltz with me?” Colin asked, gesturing to the band who were preparing for the next dance.

“Waltz?” Y/N asked, staring at him.

“You don’t need anyone’s permission, do you?” Colin asked, frowning. “I just assumed with you being an only child -”

“She has my permission to waltz, brother,” Anthony said, stepping forward and standing next to Y/N. “I am her chaperone after all.”

Y/N gave Anthony a glare of betrayal. “Yes, of course,” she said, turning back to Colin. “I’d be happy to dance with you.”

“Excellent,” Colin said, taking Y/N’s hand.

As he led her to the dance floor, Y/N glared at Anthony and Eloise, who she now realised had teamed up together. They both looked far too pleased with themselves and when they began to follow them onto the dance floor she realised she had no way out.

“Are you alright?” Colin asked, eyeing her with concern as Y/N sighed heavily. “I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“I’ve been outside,” Y/N lied, nodding to convince herself. “Away from... people.”

Colin chuckled, nodding with an air of understanding. “Yes, I understand.”

Colin moved his hand on to her waist and Y/N tried not to make the sharp intake of breath she took obvious. His hand rested on her waist and the small of her back, just below where the back of her dress ended and exposed her skin. His other hand grabbed hers and, despite the white, silk gloves she was wearing, she could feel the heat of his hands. 

“Y/N?” Colin asked softly.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to his and she was engulfed by the pure delight, love and enjoyment in them. The crinkled slightly as he smiled at her. 

“Yeah?”

“We have an audience,” Colin said, nodding to his left. 

Y/N followed his gaze and tried not to groan aloud when she noticed the entire Bridgerton family - minus Eloise and Anthony who’d annoyingly joined them on the dance floor - watching them.

“Oh, for -” Y/N cut herself off and sighed. “No, it’s fine,” she said, looking back at Colin. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

The orchestra finished tuning and the first notes of the waltz began.

“Yes,” Y/N said, smiling a pure smile of joy for the first time that night. “It’s perfect.”

They began dancing around the room to the gentle melody of the waltz. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Colin asked suddenly.

Y/N blinked in surprise as he spun her. “You noticed?”

She mentally cursed herself because that was not what she meant to say. 

“Of course I noticed, Y/N,” Colin said, frowning. “I go to talk to you and you’re not there. You’ve disappeared off with Hyacinth or Benedict.”

Y/N sighed, realising she wasn’t going to get away with lying. “Ok, fine. I have been avoiding you, Colin.”

Y/N cursed in her head as Colin spun her away to Anthony (she was beginning to suspect the two Bridgerton siblings had purposefully joined them in the dance to make it even harder to talk to him).

“Bad time,” she growled to Anthony.

“Eloise forced me too,” Anthony replied, unfazed by the anger that was directed at him. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/N asked, looking up at him.

“Of course, Y/N/N.” “Am I... suitable for Colin?” She asked, finally voicing her main concern and the reason she’d been avoiding him. “I know I'm not a perfect lady - and I have hardly any dowry and that my family is all but non-existent -”

“Y/N,” Anthony said softly, cutting her off. “You are more than enough for my brother. I don’t care about anything except the fact that you love him.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest but Anthony cut her off before she could.

“I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, Y/N,” he said gently, twirling her. “You are practically a Bridgerton already, why not make it official?”

Y/N’s eyes widened but before she could question him, she was spun back to Colin. 

“So, we were talking about you avoiding me,” Colin said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Y/N let out a stuttered breath as Colin moved his hand up slightly, his fingers brushing over her bare back. 

“Colin... I...”

“I know,” Colin said gently, looking her in the eye.

Y/N faltered. “You know... what?”

“Why you’ve been avoiding me,” Colin elaborated. 

“Oh?” “Eloise told me.”

“Oh.”

Colin laughed. “You’re change of tone is so telling - you are rubbish at hiding your emotions.”

“Yeah, well I’m obviously not that bad,” Y/N muttered. “What did Eloise say, exactly?”

“That you like me and she’s been trying to set us up for the past few weeks,” Colin replied, twirling her around a few times. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Y/N shrugged slightly. “You’re a Bridgerton, Colin. You could have any woman in this room - the majority of whom are far more suitable than me, an orphan with hardly any dowry and a grandmother who doesn’t care -”

“But I want you, Y/N,” Colin said, moving his hand from her back to tilt her chin up.

Y/N allowed him to lift her head up and gazed into his eyes. “You... want me?”

“I did just say that, didn’t I?” Colin quipped, his eyes twinkling.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Haha, very funny.” She paused. “But... you do want... me?”

“Of course I do!” Colin said, surprised that she was even doubting his affections. “Y/N, I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into me and nearly fell down the stairs.”

Y/N let out a snort that she quickly disguised with a cough. “Thank you for saving me, by the way,” she replied, smiling. “That would have been interesting.”

“Especially since you almost took Benedict out with you,” Colin added.

Y/N laughed, throwing her head back. “Oh, god, don’t remind me!”

Colin moved his hands to her waist and lifted her into the air as the music reached its climax. He slowly lowered her back down, his hands staying on her waist, and Y/N felt the sudden urge to take him there and then.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N,” Colin said softly, his voice almost a whisper in her ear. “I love everything about you. I love your clumsiness, your eye for art, the way you sing... I love you.”

Y/N looked up at him. “I love you too, Colin.”

Colin smiled and stepped closer to her, his hands tightening on her waist. 

Someone bumped into Y/N and she fell forward into Colin - the man catching her and holding her up against him.

“Stupid heels,” Eloise cursed, wobbling and grabbing Anthony’s arm to steady herself. “Oh, hi! How was your dance?”

Y/N bit her lip and looked at Colin, struggling not to laugh. “Someday, Eloise,” she said, turning to look at her friend, “I’m going to be hanged for murdering you.”

Eloise took Y/N’s arm. “If you get caught I’ll be disappointed.”

“Who said I’d be caught?” Y/N questioned. “I just assumed your brothers would hang me themselves.”

The two women laughed as they walked off to the drinks table, chatting vividly about a subject women probably shouldn’t be talking about.

“I love her, brother,” Colin said, turning to look at Anthony.

Anthony chuckled and smiled, patting him on the back. “Yes, I noticed, Colin,”

[untiltheendoftime]

Summary: Staring at a stranger leaves you with an empty plate of fries and a heart filled with the slightest bit of love.

gif by @stevenrogered

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: A normal amount of swearing, other than that it's pure fluff.

Writers note: This is for @celestialbarnes "4k writing challenge"

Reblogs, likes and your thoughts are so much appreciated. Feel free to point out any errors.

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Can I steal your fries?

You had found yourself in a small diner, after another terrible date, with a large portion of fries in front you. Perhaps alcohol would've been more helpful to forget the whole day, but sadly your work schedule didn't allow you to get drunk and risk a hangover.

As soon as you sat down, you deleted the dating app off your phone, earning an amused look from the stranger in the booth in front of you when you had muttered something along the lines of "Fuck this shit." and "Might as well start referring to myself as a trash can if trash is all I attract."

You could feel the warmth of a blush rising on your cheeks when you heard the stranger chuckle and you were sure that you looked exactly like the ketchup on your fries. Why did you have to blush so easily? Fuck.

Unfortunately he was quite handsome, which didn't help your ketchup-face problem at all. His hair was rather short, though it looked like he was growing it out, and he gave off cozy vibes with the navy blue hoodie he was wearing and the steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was far more than quite handsome. It was then that you noticed that his eyes, unfairly blue like the sky on a perfect summer day, were focused on you.

He fully caught you staring at him. Damn it.

In order to hide your embarrassment, you quickly adverted your eyes to the plate in front of you. Suddenly the fries were very interesting.

The sound of footsteps appeared and just when you had thought that you creepingly staring made the stranger leave, a muscular body came in sight and you were starting to feel anxious.

Thinking that apologizing was the best way to get over with this as soon as possible, you tried to come up with an excuse "Look, I'm sorry for staring. I jus-" you started bubbling, but he quickly interrupted you.

"Wouldn't have caught you staring at me if I wasn't staring as well, would I?" he said, his voice surprisingly sweet and when you had gathered up enough courage to look up at him, you were welcomed with a breathtaking smile.

Without any hesitation, he sat down in front of you and the anxious feeling quickly washed away, being replaced with irritation instead. Sure, he didn't look bad, but he was a stranger after all.

You eyed him suspiciously and he did the same, obviously mocking you. "I don't want to sound rude but I believe your coffee wants your attention more than me" you said, actually not really bothering to sound polite.

"Does sound rude to me, doll."

He probably used the nickname a lot, however it didn't stop you from feeling flattered. Not wanting to acknowledge it, and turning red again, you decided to keep your mouth shut.

The silence was starting to feel uncomfortable and from the way his brows slightly furrowed with thought, you could tell that he didn't want the conversation to end so soon.

"You're not here for the first time and I actually wanted to talk to you for a while." he admitted, "Even tried to get your attention, but all you did was stare into your phone and yeah" a faint blush crept up on his cheeks.

It took you a solid minute to process his words. Yes, you were a frequent customer, most of the times visiting after another date went downhill and sometimes you would google dating advice and gag at all the bullshit everyone wrote. You didn't exactly hate being single, though having someone to come home to wasn't the worst thought you could think of. The more dates went wrong, the more you and your family, especially them, began to wonder what was wrong with you.

"Always love a stranger watching me" you joked and instantly grimace at how badly you had worded it. That's not what you meant.

His laughter filled your ears and it was full of warmth and so contagious, you had to laugh as well.

After the laughter had died down, he cleared his throat and extendended his right hand to you "I'm Bucky" he softly said and while shaking it, the contact sending slight shivers down your spine, you tell him your name.

"Now that we know each others names, can I steal some of your fries?" Bucky asked, not waiting for an answer as he reached for your plate.

"No" you chuckled out, playfully swatting his hand away, and he glared at you for a second before dramatically putting the hand on his chest, claiming that you've really hurt his feelings and it might take decades to mend the pain in his heart.

The conversation between the two of you flowed nicely. He told you about his visits to different countries and you would ask questions about how the people were and if the food tasted good, the latter truthfully answered with a "I usually went for cheeseburgers due to the lack of time."

You had told Bucky how much you despise going on dates now because your family would pressure you, saying that the problem has to be you since your ex shortly found a significant other after the break up.

Bucky's jaw tightened at that and he voiced out how fucking rude your family was, wondering if they don't have anything else to do than rubbing their noses in your love life. Seeing that he has was way more understanding than your own family, empathy had always been something all of them undoubtedly lacked off, made you even more fond of the handsome stranger and you felt comfortable sharing personal pieces of your life with him as hours passed by.

Midway through your story you paused to look at your plate, realizing that it was almost empty now and the only reason why he didn't stop your rambling was because it allowed him to eat your fries.

"Stop taking my fries." you muttered out, causing him to grin.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he questioned, voice heavenly charming as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you.

Perhaps this was the most cliché thing to do, but the look he gave you when you threw a few fries at his face was something you wish you would've gotten a picture of. His eyes were still slightly widened in shock when he, not so attractively, shoved all of the fries in his mouth, making you laugh at his childish behavior.

"I got to eat the fries. Seems like I won, sweetheart." he proudly declared.

Banters and stories later, your eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on your phone and you frown when it reads two a.m

You jolted up from your seat, calling out an apology to the old waitress who seemed to be startled by the sudden change of energy. "I do enjoy talking to you, but my shift starts in six hours." you said, your voice laced with a hint of sadness.

Bucky stood up as well and reached for your phone that was still lying on the table. He handed it you, signaling for you to unlock it, and when he had access to it, he quickly typed in his number and pressed the saving button. A cheekish smile on his lips when he puts it in your grasp again and you can't help but beam at him, too.

He held his hands up in defense, "Figured you need my number after you have deleted all the datings apps."

You rolled your eyes in response and, who knows where the confidence boost came from, step closer to him. "Goodnight" you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his cheek and they instantly heat up, which made him look adorable. Maybe you had found someone who blushes just as easily as you.

Once you had entered the front door of your apartment, your phone gave off a noise, signaling that you had received a message. A quick glance at the screen told you that it was Bucky asking if you came home alright. He definitely is a gentleman. Just when you were about to answer him, another text popped up. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop you from grinning like a lovestruck teenager while reading it.

Bucky:

When will you take me out?

Sincerely, your trash

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First story on here. Hopefully it's not that bad? I would absolutely love to hear some feedback. Thank you for reading everything ♡