#was all a lie? how could i do such awful and terrible thing to the person i swore to protect? the person i love the most

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | v.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Grandma’am’s dissonant notes fill your room as you lie on the bed. The old woman’s wobbly soprano has been the background noise to your awakening this early morning.

At least it diverted you from your dire thoughts.

You rose with low spirits, defeated. You didn’t dare leave the cover of the warm blankets.

You’ve stared at the ceiling for so long, the flower patterns have morphed into smudges of pale color swirling in your vision. It’s all you did the entire morning. Stare at the ceiling while awful thoughts collide in your head. Perhaps for hours. You’re not sure. Time has been a foggy concept as of late.

You can’t even remember when everything started spinning out of control. The beginning of your unraveling.

The day before Coryo held you as you wept in his arms. For a while, in the warmth of his embrace, the uproar in your head fell silent.

Now it’s all noise again. Chaos. You have no desire to climb out of bed, face the day. Perhaps it makes you a bad guest. But hiding is easier. So it’s exactly what you elect to do.

Hiding until it becomes an impossibility.

Or until the door knocks in that case. 

The sound startles you. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you burrow yourself further beneath the sheets. 

The knock starts again. Stubbornly, you ignore it.

“I’m coming in,” a familiar, airy voice announces.

The creaking of the door reaches you and your brows crumple. A slight weight plops on the mattress, making it dip under you. You freeze, willing yourself to remain still. 

A delicate perfume hangs in the air. Guilt seeps through you. It’s not like she’s done anything to you. If anything, she’s been kind. It’s about the hot layer of shame that has grown thick roots into your being.

Her gentle lilt flutters above you.

“I won’t move until you talk to me; I’m worried.”

You gnaw on your lip. The seconds stretch to minutes, arduously long, seemingly endless as she remains on your bed. It dawns on you how deadly serious the older of the Snow cousins is. She will not go away until you speak to her.

Besides, your mother’s voice echoes somewhere in your head. Your behavior is ill-fitted for a lady. Here you are, a guest in someone else’s house, acting like a petulant child.

Though you balk at the prospect, it’s time to face the world.

You huff out a quiet sigh under your breath before peeking above the blanket. 

“Tigris,” you mumble. 

Her thin blonde brows are pinched. 

“You missed breakfast,” she notes. She tilts her head, scrutinizing you as her frown deepens. “First dinner, now breakfast. It’s becoming a habit.”

Concern glimmers in her honey orbs. Your chest squeezes. The last thing you want is for someone else to feel terrible. You push the blanket further away from you, sitting up as a contrite smile tugs your lips. 

“Sorry.”

Tigris’ slender fingers latch onto your forearm. 

“Don’t apologize. Just keep me company today.”

You attempt to deflect, “What about Coryo?”

The blonde releases a deep exhale, crossing her arms in frustration. You’ve gazed upon a similar crease on Coriolanus’ face before.

“He barely has time for me these days. Between his work with Dr Gaul, the University and…” A small smile plays on her lips as her voice trails off. “You of course.” Your cheeks heat at her implication. Of course, you’re aware of Coriolanus’ dedication to showing up for you as of late. But it never occurred to you that it could impede on Tigris’ time with him. It saddens you.

From what you recall of the glimpses of them you caught growing up, there was a time the two Snow cousins were inseparable. After all, ever since they were young, Tigris has been everything to him. A mother, a sister, a best friend. It was clear on Coriolanus’ face too. Fondness was etched on his face whenever he looked at his cousin. 

She leans over you, her tone pleading.

“Come on, I really need a friend, and something tells me you do too.”

Shoulders sagging in surrender, you concede, “I’ll get dressed.”

She leaps to her feet, a victorious smile breaking onto her face.

“I’ll have the maid bring you some food before we go,” she sings. “When’s the last time you ate anyways?”

You purse your lips, shocked at the realization of how long it’s been since your last meal, eating having toppled to the bottom of your list of priorities the last two days.

You give an honest reply.

“I…can’t remember.”

Concern scrunches Tigris’ angular features once more. She then takes her leave and you glumly get ready for the day.

Food is brought up to your room. You nibble down every bite of cheese, bread and eggs until you’re full.

You find the massive trunk Coriolanus had the staff carry up to your room. You marvel as you peer inside, rummaging in search of an outfit for the day. His thoughtfulness astounds you. You don’t deserve a friend like Coryo.

Once you’ve removed your night robe, it pools at your feet. Your stomach sinks at the sight of your bare form. Bruises still speckle your skin. They are starting to fade but the ones on your hips and thighs are still quite prominent. The thought of Coryo touching you this way crosses your mind and you shudder. 

You know you shouldn’t feel this way.

It’s like your friend said. It’s better that it was him than some stranger with nefarious intentions. After all, you were both drunk. You both didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s obvious Coriolanus is as inconvenienced by this as you are. 

You should move on, let the incident scatter amidst the unfortunate mistakes of youth. It’s what common sense dictates. Otherwise guilt will chew you to the bone.

But you can’t. 

Every time you think of that night, you’re unsettled, an inkling of wrong humming through you.

It haunts you. Though you wished it didn’t.

The remainder of the morning is spent with Tigris. The two of you scour the city in search of various fabrics and items her boss, Fabricia Whatnot, asks her to collect. 

It’s a nice change of scenery and you welcome it.

You even get to see Tigris work on a dress, a magnificent wedding gown whose sight stirs a bittersweet feeling within you. It reminds you that your own dress was ruined, a matter you’ve yet to solve. 

…If there’ll even still be a wedding. 

As the afternoon sun crests to a scorching peak in the bright blue sky, she offers to stop by a café which you readily accept. You both sit beneath a wide umbrella on the outdoor terrace. 

You take small bites of your petit fours, the sugar melting on your tongue providing much needed comfort.

“Does your grandmother do this every morning?” 

Tigris’ lips pause above the rim of her porcelain cup, her honey gaze widening at your question. Realization then lights up her face.

“Oh, the singing? Yes, almost.” A fond smile spreads onto her thin lips. “Grandma’am likes to reminisce about the glory days of our family, you know…before the war.”

Your brows furrow.

The glory days...

Could the days before the war truly be referred to as that? The people of the Districts were forced to serve the ever-growing needs of the Capitol citizens, reaping no benefits from their hard work and being kept docile by the perpetual threat of execution.

Exactly like now.

You hardly see the glory in that. Maybe for the victors, the ones who get to stand atop the mountain while others try to claw their way up from the bottom until their hands bleed.

But, as usual, you don’t voice your treasonous thoughts, simply nodding in response.

Tigris and you both relish the comfortable silence for a while. She doesn’t urge you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Idle talk is an arduous task when constant worries gnaw at your mind.

While she may not know the depth of your predicament, you appreciate that Tigris picks up enough not to prod.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” she says. “Quiet. I like to come here when I need a moment to myself.”

Your gaze roams across the luxurious garden near the café. You get lost in admiring the pretty flowers and the swan fountain. It reminds you of your own garden, your beloved roses, probably withering from neglect. You’ll need to tend to them soon.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit. You nibble on your bottom lip before your eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for being…difficult this morning.”

Tigris’ shoulders heave as she replies nonchalantly, “It’s quite alright.” Mirth sparkles in her amber orbs. “I’m sorry for dragging you all over Panem to run those errands.”

You give a small smile. “It’s fine. I enjoyed the distraction.”

You look down and fiddle with your napkin, arranging it in different positions several times in your lap.

“Is something the matter?”

Tigris’ abrupt inquiry makes your head snap up.

You hesitate beneath her compassionate stare. After a long, quiet minute, your shoulders slump.

“I just loathe that I am such a burden to you and Coryo,” you mumble.

Tigris tilts her head, genuine confusion scrunching her features. “A burden? Don’t be ridiculous. You could never be that to me...” Her slender hand reaches across the table to drape over yours. “And even less to Coryo.”

A wry chuckle leaves your lips. “Well, he’s got better things to do than taking care of me.”

She shakes her head.

“Taking care of you is a pleasure to my cousin.”

You wince. “I very much doubt that.”

Tigris’ head lowers, her hand rising to her mouth to dampen her chortle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, frowning.

“It’s just…you really don’t see how much you’re changing him?” She studies you momentarily before heaving out a long exhale. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately. She smiles.

“I haven’t seen him focus on something other than his ambitions in so long…not the way he focuses on you.”

Your jaw hangs slack at her admission.

She pauses, seeming to mull over her next words. “Coryo…when he returned from his service in District 12, he was so different. I thought all the warmth in him was gone, that he was becoming like my uncle.” A distant, sad look dims her eyes. “A cold, calculated man. But when he’s around you…" Fondness illuminates her face while she gauges you. "I don’t know, it's almost like he’s back to his old self. The little boy I knew, sweet and caring. My little Coryo.”

Her fingers tighten around yours as she beams. “You’re good for him, so don’t worry about being a burden. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Tears of relief almost spill from your eyes at that but you swallow them.

Instead, you return her smile. It may have been at the behest of your dead brother but you couldn’t deny how comforting Coriolanus’ presence has been, his friendship the silver lining above somber clouds. Coryo is the only one who gladly listens when you talk about Sejanus and how much it aches that he’s not there anymore, his passing having left a void that can never be filled. It’s too painful for your mother and your dad’s in plain denial. If it weren’t for Coryo, grief would have eaten you alive, you’re certain of it. 

It’s hard to picture your life without him in it now, in some form or another. In fact, you don’t think you even want to. You may have lost a brother but the gods were merciful and granted you another.

After you leave the café, you and Tigris take a leisurely stroll through the Capitol’s streets. The talk you had with her rejuvenated you. For the first time since that awful night at Clemensia’s, you feel a bit more like yourself. 

All is well until someone strides out of a bakery, someone you know too well. The sight of the familiar face freezes you in your spot. 

Your eyes then lock from across the street. You watch the recognition dawn on his face. 

He starts making his way towards you. 

A surge of panic bleeds inside you. You briskly grab Tigris’ hand.

“Let’s go,” you urge, already pulling her in the other direction. 

“Wait…what?” Befuddled, Tigris lets you drag her along as you start racing through the streets.

You don’t dare look behind you, your heart thundering inside your chest. 

You dive into a busy street. The crowd cloaks you as you zigzag between bodies. Strangers give you dirty looks but you don’t care, focused on running as far away from who you saw as you can. 

You and Tigris end up in a narrow alleyway, catching your breaths behind a dumpster. 

You shoot worried glances at the other end of the alleyway. You lost him, you realize. A strange blend of emotions fills you, every single one carving a larger hole inside your chest.

“Who was that?” Tigris asks between uneven breaths.

Shame swells within you as your gaze lands on the cobblestoned floor.

“My fiancé,” you reply.

“Hey.” Your head lifts from your knees, your eyes traveling to the blond head peeking through the slight opening of the door.

Concerned cobalt orbs study you. You avoid his scrutiny by focusing on a random spot on the bed sheets. He enters the room. As he sits at the edge of the bed, you bring your legs closer to your chest.

His soft tone breaks through your hazy train of thoughts. “Tigris told me what happened.”

You unleash a shaky breath before finally meeting his gaze.

“I’m a coward,” you say.

His hand rises to cradle your jaw, his thumb collecting an errant tear you didn’t even realize had spilled over. “You’re not a coward,” he assures.

Your lip wobbles. Of course you are. You saw William, your own fiancé, and ran away from him. Who does that? An idiot and a coward. But you didn’t know what else to do. You panicked. When his beautiful green eyes locked with yours, all you could think about was those same eyes filled with hate and betrayal if he ever learnt what you did.

“I am,” you affirm.

Coriolanus strokes the side of your face, his tone growing firmer, “It’s a tough situation…”

His sentence is halted by a loud banging downstairs. 

Your eyes go wide.

“What’s that?”

The faint echo of your name being yelled from outside reaches you. Your heart leaps as Coryo’s features go taut, his jaw clenching.

His lips stretch in a tense smile.

“I'll go check. Stay here.”

“I’ll come.”

You jump from bed and make a beeline for the door. He tries to placate you by holding your shoulders, blocking the exit with his towering frame.

“Princess, I don’t think-”

You glower at him. You can’t run forever.

“You can’t stop me, Coryo.”

Tension hangs in the air for some minutes, thick and electric, before he relents with a deep sigh, “Alright.”

Heart in your throat, you take slow steps down the stairs. Coryo trails behind you in silence.

Your name’s uttered again, the door rattling as he bangs against it. You flinch.

Trembling feet drag to the front door. Your hand spreads over the wooden carving. You take a deep breath before hesitant words stumble out of you.

“William, you can’t be here.”

“I love you. Of course I should be here.” 

Unwavering determination vibrates in his tone. Guilt flares within you. You swallow the impending rush of tears. You don’t deserve him. He’s good, kind, honest…and you’re a liar.

“I saw you with that girl, Snow’s cousin. Talk to me, baby, please.”

“I just need a little time...alone.”

“What? Is this about the wedding preparations? Is it your parents?” He sounds confused and hurt. Your heart wrenches. You’re hurting him. It’s exactly what you meant to avoid. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. We can face anything as long as we’re together.”

The desperation thickens in his voice.

“Come out. I just want to see your face, please.”

“I…”

Your fingers hover above the gold door knob. But your hand is snatched by long, stern digits before it can fully wrap around the handle. Coryo tugs you away from the door. You gasp as his deep voice resonates in the lobby. 

“You need to leave her be. She told you she needs space, William,” he says.

“Snow!” A mirthless chuckle ripples from the other side. “I knew it had to be you somehow.” You leap as the hinges of the door shake as William’s fists slam against it once more. “What did you do to her?”

Tears well up in your eyes. 

“Right now, it’s you that’s hurting her,” Coriolanus says, his fingers curling around yours. “What kind of husband-to-be doesn’t respect his future wife’s wishes?”

Your brows collide. You wish he didn’t speak like that. After all, you’re the one at fault. But fear keeps the words chained to your throat.

“I just need to see her, please,” William insists.

Your stomach lurches. This is insane. Your fiancé is on the other side of the door and you won’t let him see you.

Maybe William’s right. Maybe talking to him will fix everything.

You sniffle and wipe your tears. You take a solid stride towards the door again, fingers ready to open it. 

“I think I should, just for a few minutes.”

Your decision is made but Coryo’s hand cinches around your wrist. This time his hold is much firmer, on the cusp of painful in fact. 

You grimace as he draws you away from the door, near the stairs.

He bends over you to whisper hotly, “To tell him what, princess?” Angling your chin upward, he sighs. “That you gave me something you denied him all this time? After just a few drinks?” Heat nestles in your cheeks. It is true. Both you and him got near that point so often, but you were adamant about waiting for your wedding night. It was your excuse every time. You doubt he’d take it well if you told him what occurred. While you want to believe your relationship will survive it, Coriolanus’ words are tossing fuel on every insecurity within you. Your confidence wavers, your hand sagging in his hold.

Coriolanus’ intense blue gaze is hard on you as he continues, his raspy tone low and foreboding, “Or perhaps, you’ll make up a lie? You really think he won't see it on your face?” A contrite expression settles on his handsome features. “You wear your emotions on your sleeves. He’ll know right away.” His thumb sweeps over your cheek to wipe a lone, stray tear. “William seems like a good man, but such a betrayal…it’d break the two of you before you even began.” He leans closer, his lips ghosting over your earshell. “He will never forgive you.”

All hope shrivels inside you, the last remnants you still held onto crumbling to dust.

You almost made a mistake. Of course Coryo’s right. 

“Do you trust me?” 

You give a frantic nod, releasing a shuddering sob.

He smiles at your response.

“Then go upstairs,” he instructs. “I’ll talk to him, fix everything.”

Seeing you linger at the bottom of the stairs, longing gaze darting to the door, Coriolanus squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m going to make sure you still get to have a wedding at the end of this.” His smile grows wide. “I promise you.”

You search his face. Confidence radiates from his expression, planting the belief that he’s right deep within you. You shouldn’t have doubted him. Coriolanus has gone to great lengths to help you. Even now, he’s protecting your future. It’s more than one should ask of a friend, yet he’s doing it for your sake.

“Thank you,” you say. His hand slackens around yours, a satisfied glint dancing in his cobalt gaze. You rush up the stairs, not daring to look back in fear you falter once more.

[avocado-writing]

Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:

Astarion

at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.

but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.

this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.

he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.

“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”

you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.

he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.

helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.

Gale

Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.

there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.

he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.

takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.

tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”

he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.

Wyll

When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.

he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.

he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.

“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”

you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.

you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.

“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”

holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.

Karlach

Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.

“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”

you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.

“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.

���hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.

”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.

Lae’zel

She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.

She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.

“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”

you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.

She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.

”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”

you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.

You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.

“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.

Shadowheart

Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.

once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.

but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.

eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.

“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”

the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.

despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.

her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.

things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.

[sareeen]

Meaningful words

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: A lonely night without Azriel is hard enough for Y/N, but when she gets a terribly sad book in her hands, she feels a thousand times worse. Luckily, Azriel is always there when she needs him and can calm her down like no one else.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff :)… maybe at the end a little dark azriel

Masterlist

A/N: After months of hard times, today I finally had the time and the will to write. With this little story today I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas in advance :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Damn you, Nesta.

Y/N could hardly see the letters because of the tears in her eyes and the bottom of the page was already wet in several places. She felt so miserable that she wanted to throw the book away and lie there for two days, weeping in the depths of the bedclothes.

But the story sucked her in, the heroine's suffering and grief dug into her like sharp claws, and she was unable to put the book down. As Azriel was on a mission all night and she could not sleep for lack of it, she took the book that Nesta had borrowed to her. She told her it was a sad story and surely if Nesta Archeron called something depressing then it must be so.

As she kept turning the pages, the harder it was to restrain herself from reaching for the bond with the spymaster and tugging at it, then begging him to come home. But, with great difficulty, she managed to control herself and behave like an adult. However, in the last few hours, as the sun began to rise, she looked at the clock more and more and sat on pins and needles to hear the front door open.

When she started another chapter and the protagonist was hit with yet another worse blow, as if the poor thing hadn't already had a hard time, she sobbed so much that she missed the opening of the door by just the wrong margin.

Azriel stood frozen, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorframe and panting heavily as if he had run all the way home from the Illyrian camp.

"What's wrong?" he stepped inside immediately after the first shock and rushed straight to their bed.

"Stupid book."

The words were almost unintelligible and Y/N pointed the thick book towards him like some kind of idiot and handed it to him.

Azriel held it in his huge hands, clueless, and it was obvious that he didn't understand the situation at all. He looked so lost, which was so unlike him, that if the situation had been different Y/N would have laughed.

But she felt so lousy she just tried not to cry any harder.

It was almost consuming him, it seemed, to see her like this and not know exactly what was wrong with her and how he could help her. So, he just lay next to her, dressed in his battle clothes as he was, and pulled her onto his chest.

It made Y/N cry even more.

"It's so sad," Y/N poked the hard cover of the book. "Nesta gave it to me and now I feel so awful."

Azriel kissed her hair and mumbled something that sounded too much like I'm going to kill that woman.

"Then why are you reading it, sweetheart?" his warm hand traced soothing circles down her back, making her feel a little better. At least enough to form meaningful and complex sentences, and not like some one and a half year old child.

"Because it's so good by the way," she whispered, pressing her palm against Azriel's chest, right where his heart was beating. A small relief welled up inside her and she stroked the leather.

“But it's so sad because Adja the main heroine is losing her mate. He was wounded during a battle and the healers couldn't save him, and then he died."

A shiver ran through her as Azriel's arm tightened around her, almost pulling her into him.

"I've been thinking about what I would do" Y/N sniffed. "If you died, I don't know what I would do. I'd probably jump off the nearest cliff I could find and go after you."

Azriel took a deep breath at her words and cupped her face in his two scarred hands. Y/N looked at him with teary eyes and the way his partner looked at her, with that devotion and adoration, she was absolutely certain that she would indeed go after him to death.

"My love" he gave her a soft kiss on the lips and then wiped away the tear that trailed down her cheek. "I'm not going to die."

"You can't promise me that" Y/N argued at once. "No one can promise that."

Azriel smiled and gave her another kiss.

His lips were warm and soft on hers, causing Y/N's arm to unconsciously wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Their legs tangled together under the blanket and Azriel's shadows retreated to the corner, as if they didn't want to share this intimate moment.

When they broke apart, Azriel's finger brushed her cheek with a breathless caress. The golden-brown eyes almost glowed and Y/N could have sworn they sparkled slightly. She knew that her mate sometimes still struggled to accept that she really loved him. Every once in a while, her heart sank when she sensed through the bond that Azriel doubted himself and at such times she always made sure to surprise him with something to prove that he deserved it more than anyone.

"Indeed not, but I can promise you that I will do my best to stay alive" he grinned and playfully pinched her bottom. "I'll do my best to come home to this pretty little bottom every night."

To enhance his words, he gently patted the said body part.

Y/N gasped in surprise at the sensation and slapped his shoulder, but her mouth was already up to her ears. She felt much, much better thanks to Azriel.

"Good, because you're never leaving the house again" Y/N raised an eyebrow, then added jokingly. "Besides, it's not nice that your partner tearfully admits what she would do if you were gone and all you could think about was her butt. You know, other men would return the favor in a heartbeat, with words like I'd burn the world for you."

Azriel laughed and rolled over, pushing her body with his huge one almost into the mattress, which made Y/N sigh happily.

"Really?" The spymaster asked, brushing her stray hairs from her forehead.

"Yes," Y/N answered seriously, but there was laughter in her voice.

Azriel slowly leaned in to her ear and Y/N shivered with excitement as he began to whisper.

"Do you want to know what I would do if you died?" the spymaster said, but his grip on the words grew a little steely, as if the very thought of it was driving him mad. "I would cover the whole world in darkness and blood, hunt everyone down and when I had finished with all the sinners and all their loved ones, I would end my life and follow you to the afterlife. Proudly and without thinking, because if you no longer exist then the whole world is meaningless and I wouldn't want to exist in it."

Y/N's fingers tangled in Azriel's dark hair.

"That was better than a I'd burn the world down."

Azriel's dark laughter filled the apartment.

"I would do more for you."

[moonstruckme]

hi! i hope you're having a good day<3 i was wondering if you could write a remus x fem!reader where they aren't really dating but everyone knows they like each other (them included) where r has kinda mean friends? like, they leave her out of everything and she constantly feels bad about it. and ever time she tells remus he's like "you should drop them, you deserve better" and he's just trying to get her to see that she deserves better?

Thank you <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 736 words

Remus can feel a heaviness building where you sit on the couch next to him. 

He lets his eyes slide subtly in your direction, and you’re frowning at your phone. Not an upset frown, no pursed lips or drawn brows, just a slight downturn of the corners of your mouth. You look defeated, and Remus can’t abide it. 

“Everything alright, love?”

Predictably, you soften like butter at the endearment, and your expression as you turn to him is kind if not happy. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, and Remus pretends not to know it’s a lie. He waits. Your eyes drop to his shoulder, one thumbnail picking at the other distractedly. “I just wish…I wish that if my friends were going to hang out without me, they’d at least not post so much about it.” 

A familiar ache starts up in his chest. “Oh no. What’ve they done?” 

You shrug like it’s little to you, but he sees the way you press your lips together, the faint redness creeping up from your neck. He hopes you don’t cry, if only to spare his delicate heart. 

“They’re all at Hannah’s place, I guess. Going to go see the new movie premiere.” You laugh. It sounds raw. “I actually asked them if they wanted to go do that tonight, and they all said they were busy.” 

The frailty of your voice works like glass shards, cleaving Remus clean open. “Darling,” he says, and he doesn’t care that you’re not official enough to acknowledge the endearment in its full capacity. You both know he means it well enough. His hand slides atop yours the way one tempers one ingredient by adding a tiny bit of another before the rest. You soften at his touch, and Remus goes all the way, curling his arms under yours to give your back a firm squeeze. “I know you’re sick of hearing it from me, but they really don’t deserve you.” 

A tiny drop of warm wetness slides from your face to his shirt. His own fault, really, but if a good cry is what you need he’s ready to indulge you. “I just want to know what it is about me that makes me so terrible to be around,” you weep, and Remus crushes you to his front unthinkingly, a protective ire swelling within him. He wishes he could go to your friend’s house and give these girls a talking-to right now, but you probably wouldn’t thank him for it. He settles for dragging his palm up and down your back, hip to shoulder and back again. 

“Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your sigh is a stilted, shuddering thing. “I’m putting you in an awful position. I don’t mean to fish for compliments.” 

“I know,” he promises, his hand stopping where Remus can feel your heart beating through the material of your shirt. “And I’m not saying it out of any sense of obligation, but you really are lovely to be around. I mean” —he pulls back so you can see his face, hoping the sincerity in it will make some headway against your self-doubt— “would I be here if you weren’t?”

You give him a small smile, thin-lipped. “You’re very nice.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his fingers around your upper arms and barely restraining himself from trying to shake some sense into you. “I’m not that nice. But okay, Sirius would never hang around anyone he didn’t actually like, can we agree there?” He takes your silence for acquiescence, and, with a gentle smile, goes on. “Every one of our friends sees how kind, and smart, and lovely you are. They” —he shoots a pointed look at your phone— “are the only ones who don’t. That’s how I know you’re not the problem, sweetheart,” he says, softer now. “They are.” 

You look him in the eyes as you take a deep breath. This one goes in and out steadier than the last, and some of the tension in his own chest eases. “Thank you,” you tell him. 

Remus can’t help himself; he pulls you in for another hug, selfish to his core. “No thanks necessary,” he says firmly.

“I guess the only thing to do,” you say, voice muffled against his shoulder, “is to stop trying to make plans with them and hang out exclusively with you.” 

Remus laughs. He doesn’t hate the sound of that.

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[skipper1331]

No thoughts, quick actions // Felicitas Rauch

a/n: based off this request.

Long distance relationships were something you never wanted to do. The thought of having your lover not near you, made you feel unwell, the risk of misunderstandings high and the longing terrible at times. You had seen it with your friends - nights that were spent crying on your couch because of a fight or dozens of rom com movies because they missed their lovers.

It broke your heart to see your friends that miserable and you could only imagine how awful their partner felt in another city, country or even continent. Those moments made you realize that you wouldn‘t want to be in a long distance relationship.

You kept that promise for a long time but when Feli, the german international and vfl Wolfsburg player approached you after a international friendly your heart was immediately stolen by her.

She came up to you with the intention to apologize for her sloppy tackle but the conversation took a quick turn as you found yourselves engaged in holiday stories.

Fast forward, the two of you have been a couple since 5 years.

In less than a few months after your encounter, the defender had let you forget all your opinions about long distance relationships.

Felicitas was worth the distance and every single misunderstanding - she was worth everything. You couldn’t deny that it was hard, super hard, at times but you managed. Holidays were spent together instead of telling each other stories about it, daily phone calls, short cute messages throughout the day made it possible.

You had to admit though, after 5 years of long distance you grew tired. You wanted to wake up next to Feli everyday, share a home with her, hug, kiss and touch whenever. From day to day it became harder to hide your disappointment or the fact that you missed Felicitas terribly. Nights were spent crying on the couch, some sappy rom com playing while you ate ice cream. It was getting too much, the honeymoon phase was over, you weren‘t blinded anymore - the familiar feeling resurfaced.

You hated long distance relationships.

and slowly you couldn‘t do it anymore nor did you want to.

Felicitas noticed your behavior, the bags under your eyes visible through the phone, the change in your mood and schedule. Besides being a professional football player, you started to do even more sports in your free time. You had to distract yourself, if you didn’t do so, the feeling of sadness would eat you alive.

Actually, the change was not only noticed by Feli but your teammates too, nobody asked you about it though.

Some of them didn‘t want to assume - maybe they were just imagining things.

Some of them were afraid of your reaction - would you be mad?

Some of them respected you too much to intrude in your life - if you had a problem, you would talk to them when you‘re ready.

It was Lia who took the matter in her own hands - she was one of your closest friends as she asked you if you wanted to get some coffee together after training.

It was a rainy day. The two of you sat at a table near the window, the smell of coffee filling the café, "You alright?" the Swiss asked.

A simple question, a question that most people would answer without any hesitation, even if the answer was a lie. You thought about lying to Lia, telling her everything was fine which it wasn‘t - Lia knew that. Added to that, Feli had texted her, both of them friends ever since their Turbine Potsdam time, to make sure everything‘s alright with you. So, there was no point in lying.

"I will leave the club in the upcoming transfer window" you replied and not with 'no' like Lia expected you answer.

There were no thoughts, just quick actions.

You looked at her no sign of confusion, anger on her face displayed - you couldn’t tell what she was thinking, her reaction calm and composed, something you appreciated very much. Wally always had to hear every thought before she could say something about the situation.

"I miss Felicitas" you mumbled with sad eyes, "and Wolfsburg offered me a great contract" you let the words sink in, not for Lia but for yourself. You would leave Arsenal in about 2-3 months, the club you spent the most time of your career and it will break and heal your heart at the same time.

"Say something, please?" the silence was deafening.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What do you think about it?" nervously, your fingers hit the table while you hoped her respond wouldn’t hurt your feelings or questioning your actions.

"I think it‘s the right decision"

-

After many conversations with your management and Wolfsburg, you flew to Germany as the deal was settled and ready to sign.

Feli didn‘t know about your arrival in her home country nor that you were in the exact same building as her - your transfer wouldn‘t be announced till the very end of the transfer window, Wolfsburgs wishes.

When you signing the contract, a heavy weight fell of your shoulders - you couldn‘t wait to see Felicitas everyday.

"In case you‘re wondering, training ended half an hour ago" Tommy Stroot winked, leaving you alone.

It took you about 25 minutes to your girlfriends home, one single rose in your hand. You rang the bell, cinnamon already barking behind the door as Feli opened it, trying to hold her dog back.

"Hi" you said, smiling widely. Your heart felt so complete.

"Wha- hi?" the defender pinched her arm, was this real? Were you really in front of her? "What are you doing here?" she asked, perplexed and shocked. Her question was forgotten when her senses kicked in. You were standing in front of her! Within seconds, Feli‘s arms wrapped around your neck, hugging you like you would disappear. Your own arms went around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Oh, how you had missed her.

Neither of you could tell how long you stood in the hall, only when cinnamon barked, you pulled apart yet still in each others embrace. "I missed you so much" you breathed out, one hand coming up to caress your girls cheek. There was so much love shared, eyes telling the truth as you stood there in silence.

"I can‘t believe you‘re here" the defender chuckled happily, still in cloud nine, "for how long?"

"We should go inside" you told her at the same time, both of you giggling lightly before the German pulled you into her home. "So? How long?" she asked again, turning around.

You were silent for a moment, taking a deep breath, "I signed with Wolfsburg today. They will announce it soon" you replied in a low voice, somehow shy and afraid - how would she react?

No thoughts, quick actions

"You did what?"

"um, I signed a contract with Wolfsburg?" nervously, you scratched your neck, "I couldn‘t be away from you anymore. I just wanted to wake up next to you, see you everyday and kiss you good morning. I‘m sorry! I‘m sorry I haven’t told you about it! Please don‘t be mad" you rambled.

There was a deafening silence as Feli let your words sink in.

You were here.

For longer than just a few days.

You signed with Wolfsburg.

You‘ll be here everyday.

"I don’t know what to say" your girlfriend told you honestly. She was confused, happy and terrified but overall happy. She just didn‘t understand. Why haven‘t you told her about your signing? Was this the reason you acted differently? Did you miss her as much as she missed you?

you gulped, "oh" not expecting that kind of reaction. You thought she would be a little bit happier but her expression was empty. "I should go, um, this is for you. Sorry again" you mumbled, holding out your hand with the red flower.

"No, wait" the brunette said, gathering her thoughts as quickly as possible, "I’m happy you‘re here but it overwhelmed me" she smiled shyly as her hands went up to cup your cheeks, "you‘re so beautiful" her thumbs caressed your cheeks, eyes looking at you with so much love. Slowly but surely, her expression became readable - she was happy and so in love, "Will you move in with me?"

"If you want me to?"

"yes!"

-

Living with Felicitas was wonderful, the two of you matched perfectly - while she did the cooking, you did the laundry.

Your life in Germany was amazing as well, most of the Wolfsburg players knew you already and welcomed you with open arms. You adapted rather quickly to the german playing style, working yourself to the top - key player of the team.

It was hard at times, especially in the first few months as you missed England, the wsl and your family and friends but being with Feli healed every open wound.

Playing in the Frauen Bundesliga didn‘t stop you from watching all of the matches - you were a gunner through and through, no kisses or celebration touches at the Wolfsburg emblem.

Felicitas always joined you watching every gunners game, supporting the Arsenal the the same as you did. She did it before when you still played there, so why not now? It was something you appreciated very much.

-

"Was?! That‘s a yellow!" she jumped out of your arms, yelling at the tv. Chuckling at her, you pulled her back, "you know they can‘t hear you" you said. In fact, it should have been a yellow card for the Aston Villa player but as so often, the ref didn‘t agree with that opinion. The German international grumbled, sinking further in your embrace as she elaborated why that should have been a yellow card. Seeing Felicitas in your Arsenal jersey, in your arms and annoyed with the ref’s decision as it was against your club made you realize that she was the woman of your dreams. You wanted her to be your wife.

It didn‘t take you long to find the perfect ring for your girlfriend. As soon as you had entered the jewelry store and saw the shining simple ring, you knew it. That‘s the ring. You bought it immediately.

Now, you had the ring but no idea where to propose.

Beach proposal? No beach.

Restaurant proposal? No, too many people watching.

It had to be simple, somewhere Feli felt comfortable and where the two of you had enough privacy.

Home!

That‘s it!

Ring? Check.

Place? Check.

When? As soon as possible.

Leaving the jewelry store with so much confidence radiating off your body, you made your way to the heart of the city, buying flowers, wine, candles and balloons. You‘ve never been so sure about something.

-

Thankfully, Feli was still out with Obi and Ewa for a photo shoot, which gave you the perfect opportunity to set everything up. Rose petals decorated the path to the living room, flowers and balloons filling the room as some nice dinner and wine waited on the balcony.

However, as the stress subsided, a new emotion came to the surface - nervousness. Sometimes, you did things before your brain could even register what you were doing or rather what you were about to do - It often led to rushed actions without second thought.

But for once in your life, the thought and quick action was perfect, even if your brain wasn’t connecting all the dots, at least not yet. This was right. This was the right move.

Felicitas and you have been a couple for years, you lived together, worked together and loved one another - your heart knew what to do.

Make her your wife.

You sat on the couch, waiting for Feli. The food was probably cold, the varnish of your nails completely pealed off as you started outside, the velvet box in your hand. When was she coming home? With each minute that passed by, your nerves rose. Your earlier confident self turned into an anxious one - you hadn‘t even prepared a speech. Gosh!

Desperately trying to think about some loving words, you only snapped out of your trance as you heard the keys being placed down, "Liebe?" the brunette called right after.

"Living room" you called, standing up from the couch, arms hidden behind your back.

Just now, the defender realized the pool of rose petals on the floor, heart skipping more and more beats, the closer she got to the room.

She gasped when she saw the beauty of a living room, her true love standing in the middle as candles lit the room, "hi" you smiled.

"Hi?" your girlfriend said, looking around, eyes so bright as she walked up to you, "what‘s all this?" she asked a bit confused. Of course, the german knew about your no-thoughts-quick-actions as she called them, always surprised with the things you decided - never a clue what you were 'thinking'.

Her arms looped around your neck, claiming their usual spot as her fingers started to play with your hair, the most effective manner to calm you down.

"Marry me" you breathed out, no others words spilling out of your mouth.

Silence.

"I love you and I don‘t want to spend another day knowing that you’re just my girlfriend when I want you to be my wife. I promise to treat you right and love you with every inch of my heart till the end of time" you filled the awkward silence, rambling about the love you shared. "Take this ring," you opened the velvet box, "as a promise and a sign of love and fidelity. You‘re my forever." you got down on one knee, looking up at the love of your life, "please, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she shrieked, clinging on to you for her dear life, kissing every inch of skin in her reach. She had waited so long for this moment. She knew she wanted to marry you as soon as she saw your first no-thoughts-quick-action move. She was totally smitten for you ever since.

[fettuccin-e]

Could I have something with Steven/ nervous female reader & the prompt 'Relax,lie still & let me take care of you'. Thanks!

@ahookedheroespureheart holy FUCK yes you can!!! i usually don't write for experienced steven BUT i want him to take care of me so bad bro its a problem. i also think that steven could dom the fuck out of you if you asked,,, thank u for requesting my love

Gold Skinned and Eager

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, oral (f!recieving), light overstimulation, a little Marc x Reader (also yes the title is from Touch Tank by Quinnie I think of Steven every time I listen to it)

You aren’t that inexperienced. Really, you’re not. It’s just that your dating experience has been unequivocally awful. Boyfriend after boyfriend, breakup after breakup. All of them terrible and painfully self-centered, both in everyday life and in the bedroom. So you aren’t inexperienced, not really, you just haven’t had anyone to do everything with you yet. 

Until you met Marc. And then, subsequently, Steven and Jake. It’s strange, the feeling of being loved so wholly and unconditionally, without fear of judgment. Strange, but nice. 

So when you tell Steven softly, picking at the skin around your nails and avoiding eye contact at all costs, that no one has ever eaten you out before, he tugs you close, strong arms wrapping around your waist. His calloused fingertips tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“Can I please show you, darling?” he asks, voice breathy. He doesn’t really even have to ask. You’re already nodding.

But you can’t help the way your thighs tremble a few hours later, how your breaths become light and nervous as Steven lays your naked body out upon your shared bed, moving down to be eye level with your pretty cunt.

“Love, if you aren’t sure about this-” Steven begins, looking up into your eyes, but you shake your head so hard you’re afraid it may fly off.

“Steven, no, it’s not,” you breathe, tossing your forearm over your eyes. “I just- God, no one’s ever been this close before. I mean, I would’ve waxed, or something, if I had known-” Steven cuts you off with a chuckle, smoothing his calloused hands across the insides of your thighs.

“Darling, I assure you, you’re the most perfect thing I have ever seen,” Steven murmurs, laying soft kisses down the paths his hands brush over. Those lips, soft and plush, so close to your soaking pussy. “Just relax, darling,” you can feel his breaths fanning over you, and your hips twitch. Steven’s hands shoot up, anchoring you to the bed. “Lie still,” he whispers, “and let me take care of you.”

You barely have a chance to breathe before he leans in to lick a long stripe up your dripping cunt, and the whine you let out is embarrassing, all high pitched and tinny. But you can feel Steven’s grin between your legs, his hands shifting to wrap tight around your thighs, and he’s diving in.

His strong tongue licks roughly at your sensitive clit, swirling around it in tight, maddening circles before shifting down to suck softly at the sticky lips of your pussy. The sensation is unfamiliar, but so fucking good that the edges of your vision are already blurring. He tongues slowly over your clenching entrance before easing it in, his nose moving over your clit.

“Steven, Steven, oh fuck. God, it feels- it feels so good, oh shit-” Your hands tangle in his hair as your back arches, keeping him glued to you as you mumble incoherently. Steven groans into you, the vibrations rocketing up your spine and ricocheting around your murky brain.

“You’re so beautiful for me love,” Steven says between his ministrations. “Can’t believe no one’s eaten this pretty cunt before, y’taste so fucking good. So sweet, darling.” He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and it’s a miracle you don’t black out. “Going to eat you out for hours darling,” he says, and it feels like a threat. “I’ll eat you till you pass out, yeah? Wouldn’t that be nice?” It barely feels like Steven is even speaking to you anymore, and a glance down to the man between your thighs is even more proof of that.

Steven’s eyes are blown wide, his cheeks red and hair beautifully mussed by your clutching hands. His lips are shiny, so soaked with your slick. He looks destroyed, just from eating you out. He shuts his eyes as he licks into you, completely lost in it, and fuck, you are too. 

“Want you to cum, darling,” he murmurs, not opening his eyes or taking his mouth away from your sticky cunt. “Wanna feel this pretty pussy soak me. Fuck, Marc wants it too, I can- I can hear him. He wants a turn, yeah? Give him a turn eating this gorgeous pussy?”

The moan that rips out of your throat is nearly painful, the thought of Marc eating you out, right after Steven. You don’t think you’ll make it to the morning. But Steven’s already taking your clit into his mouth again, sucking and licking at it, playing with you like a toy, and the knot in your stomach is tightening, your back shooting up, up-

Your vision whites out for a moment as you cum, your little whispers of “Steven, Steven, Steven” echoing loudly in your ears as your pussy clenches and soaks Steven’s face. He groans with you, licking at you softly as you ride out your orgasm. He only pulls away when you push lightly at his forehead with a soft whine of, “sensitive.”

His broad shoulders loom over you as he moves up, and you barely have the strength to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down on top of you to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his lips, but you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted. Instead, you can only smile into the kiss, and Steven grins back. 

“Thank you Steven,” you whisper, and Steven breaks from your mouth with a loving peck.

“As if that was even close to a chore, darling,” he says. “I should be thanking you,” he murmurs, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You giggle softly at him, sighing as you feel his soft lips laying little kisses into your skin. You know what’s happening when Steven’s back tightens a few minutes later, a small change, but still noticeable. You know that he’s not Steven anymore.

“Marc?” you whisper into the quiet of the room, and your boyfriend raises his head to look at you.

“Hi baby,” Marc says, his voice beautifully gruff. “You still gonna give me a turn?”

[spectres-n-soap]

A Soft Breeze - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Therapy, pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, angst with comfort

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Why do you lash out at others?” Dr. Miller asks. The session had been going relatively normal, he had started out with the usual base questions he did every time.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing my best.”

“How’s the pregnancy?”

“Healthy for the most part.”

And it felt he was coming out of left field with that question. It must have been obvious how much of a divergence from the norm it was because he tries to back track but you stop him.

“It's easy.” You admit. Admission feels like poison or acid, eating up at you now that you’ve spoken it to life. It was easy, it is easy, to lash out at those around you then to confront the source. You scream and yell, throw things and break down instead of admitting the truth that no one deserves your anger. No one deserves the grief that eats you up and that you refuse to acknowledge until now. “It’s easy to lash out at others then take a moment to reflect.”

“Do you feel bad afterwards?” He asks as he writes down something of note and you cringe a little. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of things wrong with you. That’s what you’ve concluded that means, that whenever he writes something down after you say something, that it's another thing wrong with you. You won’t dare to ask him if it's true; he’ll probably lie about it for propriety.

“Yes.” You still beat yourself up over the baby shower and every time you’ve yelled at Simon. “I feel awful afterwards because I know they didn’t deserve it.”

“So why do you take it out on Simon specifically?” Dr. Miller asks and you stiffen. What a loaded question, you thought. “Just off the top of your head, why?”

“Because it feels like he’s trying to replace him.” You say, throat becoming tight at the thought, horrible and malicious. “And I know that he isn’t and that it's not right for me to think like that.” Dr. Miller takes notes, his hand moving quickly over the lined paper in front of him as you speak and it takes everything in you not to stop or call him out on it. “It should be Johnny here. Not him.”

“You know that Johnny is dead.”

“Yes I know he’s dead.” You snap, “I know he is, alright? But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he wasn’t.” You put your face into the palms of your hands and sigh. “I’m a terrible person.” You whisper.

“No, you’re just a person.” Dr. Miller says, “There is no such thing as a good or bad person, just people who do good and bad things. Sometimes more of one than the other.” He sets down his clipboard and leans forward, “It's good that you are able to find what the reason is, now we just have to work on finding ways of expressing those feelings without hurting those around us.” You nod slowly.

Simon is waiting for you in the parking lot, a surprise for you. “Hey, I was thinking we could eat out tonight, to celebrate another therapy session.” You scrunch your face up and before you can retort anything he says, “Just accept the free food.” You truly cannot debate with that logic or offer and you get into the vehicle with him.

It’s not a fancy restaurant but to be honest, you might’ve tried to strangle him if he had. Just a simple sandwich place, the food is good and the restaurant surprisingly serves other things than just sandwiches and drinks. You opt for an italian sandwich and some tomato bisque on the side with crackers. 

The silence between the two of you is natural, especially as you eat and therefore become unable to speak without being rude. The restaurant isn’t bustling with tons of other people, in fact it's rather quiet for the time of day. You think it's because of the fact it's Wednesday. “I’m sorry.” You say after finishing your soup.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” He asks and your cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry for being awful to you all the time.” You say, “It's not okay for me to treat you like that and I don’t know why you stuck around after everything.”

“Because you’re Johnny’s bird.” He says, “I’m doing right by him, I’m making sure the person he cared for and the baby he never knew existed are safe.” He states and you shake your head.

“I don’t get it.” You mutter and he chuckles softly, the sound warms your belly more than the soup did.

“You don’t have to.”

You get a call from Mrs. MacTavish the next day, “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not feeling prepared for motherhood and I did some looking.” You vaguely hear some mouse clicking and she starts again, “I’m gonna send you some links to places holding parenting classes.” You glance at your phone and see the links copy and pasted into the text chat. “You should attend them, I think they would be very useful. Have a good rest of your day dear.” You say your goodbyes and tap on one of the links.

Just as Mrs. MacTavish said, it is for a place holding parenting classes throughout the week, you look at the next available one and feel your heart rate pick up. Two days from now, it will be held at a nearby library in the afternoon. Simon glances over your shoulder and asks, “Thinking about going?”

“It would be smart for me to go.”

“But do you want to?” He asks as he sets down his dirty mug into the sink to wash later. He leans against the counter and you shrug.

“Wouldn’t hurt to go, just to see if I like it.” Your thumb hovers over the register link before you finally tap it and send in your information. Putting down just how far along you are in your pregnancy feels surreal. Seven months along and nearly at your eighth. How did the time pass by so quickly? 

[hom3landr]

"just lie to me, okay? just this once."

Necessary Lies

CW - Major Character Death, descriptions of gore and sickness, ANGST ANGST ANGST

Homelander’s intentions had been pure when he arranged to dose you with Compound V. He’s reminded by a friend that’s how the road to hell is paved

You aren’t getting better.

Homelander’s stomach turns.

You aren’t getting better.

He’d done everything right. The whole process was done under the supervision of all of Vought’s best doctors and scientists. Even as you screamed and begged, he’d been confident that any complications could be swiftly dealt with. Sure, you’d been an adult when the V had been introduced into your system but you are strong. You have to be. You have to.

He watches you in your room. It doesn’t seem right for you to be surrounded by so much blank white. You are color and light but even you can’t withstand the way the awful room dims your soul. Maybe if you could see the sun you’d get better. But the doctors insist you are too fragile to handle any environment except the sterile one you are contained in.

He bites his lip anxiously as you continue to hack up blood, the bright crimson automatically drawing the eye. His instincts tell him to scan you, to watch as the V twists your DNA and transforms you into something greater.

I told you not to get your hopes up. You tend to have a less than stellar track record when it comes to mud people.

He shakes his head and tries to ignore the little voice in his ear. He’s wrong this time. It’s a hiccup that’s all. You’re strong. You are.

The voice is blocked out but not by his own efforts. A horrible cry leaves your lips as your bones crack and shift under your skin. More red spews on the floor. He winces at the wet splat as a chunk of something hits the floor.

That was juicy. Wanna bet that was a lung?

Homelander tastes iron as he splits his own lip. It feels like it’s your blood he’s tasting. It’s your blood he’s spilt.

That one was a little mean, I admit. But buck up Bucko, this is what you signed up for. Maybe you’ll listen to me next time.

He’s done this before. Why the fuck were you the one with complications?

“There’s a good reason Vought doesn’t do it.”

That’s what he told Madelyn that fateful night.

He’d killed her too

He steps to the side as a squad of sour smelling scientists rush in to stabilize you. But what can they do? What can they do now that the only outcome is for the poison to run its course? He vividly fantasizes about popping each one’s head like a ripe melon as punishment for not fixing this. It doesn’t make him feel better.

Please

He begs the voice in his head.

Just lie to me, okay? Just this once.

The once dependable steady rhythm of your heartbeat is dangerously erratic.

You smell like death.

Please!

He worries the cut on his lip with his tongue. It feels strange to have a wound. The scientists flutter around you nervously. They know you’re a lost cause but Homelander’s icy gaze compels them to at least pretend to be helpful. Their terror burns his nose. He decides to make their demise slow.

No can do Buddy, you know that’s not what I’m here for. I’m the only one who’ll never lie to you.

Your heartbeat grows fainter. Your breaths rattle.

One of the scientists pisses himself.

Please…

You turn your head and despite your eyes meeting his, he knows you can’t see him. You wouldn’t be able to even without the wall in the way. He doesn’t think you can see much of anything anymore.

I told you so. Better go in and say your goodbyes.

I hate you

Aw buddy, I’m the only thing you have left.

Your heart stops and a noise all too terribly familiar leaves your throat. The last noise you’ll ever make. A wail just as wretched leaves his lips.

He didn’t even say goodbye. He let you die in that awful room alone. He wasn’t even holding your hand. You were alone like he was alone all those many years ago. Being poked at like he was.

He vomits bile onto the floor.

You’re gonna need me more than ever now. Better get used to it.

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

Season 3x8 Episode Live Reaction

So, apparently there's a Content Warning for this episode?

WHAT?

Anyway - I will be watching so... thoughts below.

Holes are bad is a terrible name for the episode.

here we go....

OOOh flashback for Hetty. "Under 2 months"???

Legal Trouble??? OMG.

Of course Elias would cause Hetty problems. Even dead.

"Four".

"None of you are alive so what emergency could there be."

"You could lie to me once"

"YOu listen?" "You don't?"

Nancy wants Thor.

LOL Steph is back.

"LOL - it's illegal" -MEH.

I KNEW IT WAS RALPH!!!!

"That was rude."

SO, STEPH just went to sleep???

She ignores that Pete was like "GRAB YOUR SUCKOFF BUDDY".

"Just a basement ghost - my bad"

OMG THOR. OMG - you heard her!!!

LMAO !!! I cannot believe that Thor knew the entire time!

Chasing a butterfly???

The way everyone looks at Thor.

The concerned looks on the younger ghosts' faces. OMG.

"They're like what to do mean??? WHY???"

I love their excitement!

GOD DYING ALREADY.

Another flashbook. "No one has called ever, i believe."

Of course climbing out doesn't work.

Aw Trevor and Alberta wanting to save Flower!!

I love their teamup.

Sass is like "LET ME TELL THE STORY." I'm literally the storyteller!

LOVE SASS/ISAAC teamup.

1895 - stuck in a hole.

WAIT TOO MUCH MOPHINE?? Hetty died of an overdose?

WHO ELSE WAS IN THE HOLE.

AW PATIENCE!!! I'm SAD. Purtain woman! Lost in the dirt???

OH NO OH ON.

"YOu know FACETIME???"

THE GHOSTS ARE NOT ON FACETIME. I can't believe Trevor thought he could do the drawer - big step up from Sam's MOM where he wouldn't even try a drawer.

NOOOOOOOO!!!

"SHE MAY BE FERAL - DO NOT ENGAGE."

AHHHHHH!

I'm SCREAMING!

"i will punch them."

Another flashback. THE TELEPHONE.

WRONG NUMBER.

Aw Thor is cute here.

Hetty - Has a string around her neck? OMG... she hung herself?? It's the rope from her death.

Ass Sass and Trevor catching her!

How did you not know??? It didn't register has any thing weird.

"Oh hey Sam."

LOL Sam's Face at this explanation! If only Jay hadn't put away the iPad.

You got her a magnet???

Aw, Isaac and Sam are here for Hetty.

Trying to protect her son. And he could've become a murderer either way - it had nothing to do with your death.

I do really love the explanation of how they all missed Hetty's death and Elias' Vault. Finally it makes sense.

Awww Hetty & Flower moment.

LOL big secret. "I robbed a bank once." - "It's good to have you back."

LOL Checking the Owl Thing.

LOL Jay figuring out what's happening...

***

Final thoughts, It was a great episode. I am sad Steph was there just to tell them about Ralph/Flower - poor steph, but I totally called that. and I did like the episode.

TOTALLY PISSED PETE'S GHOST POWER WAS REVEALED IN THE FUCKING PROMO.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets - Extra Scene 3

Married.

He was married now.

Benedict hadn’t stopped pacing in the room ever since he and Charlie had got there in order to get away from the chaos of the hundreds of guests his family had apparently decided to invite to the wedding breakfast. Judging by the way his wife of two hours had walked away from him the moment they had reached the house-

His wife.

Jesus Christ.

He still couldn’t believe they were actually married. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and when he first saw her walk down the aisle, he was quite certain that this was a dream.

Now he understood how Paris felt in the presence of Helen.

Or how mere mortals felt in the presence of Venus, for that matter.

“She—she married me,” Benedict said and Charlotte absentmindedly turned a page in his sketch book, barely casting him a glance. If it were any other time, he would have asked her opinion on his latest sketches but now—

Now he couldn’t even bring himself to worry about whether his sketches looked good or not.

“I know Benny,” she said. “I was there, as the maid of honor.”

“I’m a married man now.”

“Yes you are.”

“To her.”

“Mm hm.”

Dear God, it felt as if the room was getting warmer by the second. His hand shot up to loosen his cravat a little and he took a deep breath.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a good husband, how did I—” he pointed at the door. “Goddamn Anthony was supposed to marry first, not me!”

Charlotte looked up from the sketchbook and thought for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“He will when he falls in love,” she said, crossing her legs as she laid on her back, holding the sketchbook up so that she could see the pages while lying down on the sofa. “Why are you panicking?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are—aw Benny! You sketched her!”

Benedict pressed his palms on his eyes, then dropped his hands.

“Charlie.”

“Yes?”

“What if I turn out to be a terrible husband?”

Charlotte lowered the sketchbook to shoot him a glance.

“I don’t really know much about terrible husbands,” she said. “I haven’t seen or heard about what they do.”

“And you will not,” Benedict said. “Your future husband has to talk to me after your father.”

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders again. “I’ll make sure to let him know,” she said airily and smiled when she turned the page. “Has she seen these?”

Benedict swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No.”

“You should show her!”

“…Yeah maybe later.”

“I think she’d like it,” Charlotte said. “I mean look at all this, it’s like—"

“Charlie,” Benedict cut her off. “I mean it. What if I’m a terrible husband and she hates me?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sat up in the sofa. “She could never hate you Benny, you two are in love!”

Benedict’s heart skipped a beat as guilt washed over him just like it did every time he had to lie to Charlotte. He knew he had to, Anthony had given him an earful when he had figured out he hadn’t told Charlotte the story about his sudden engagement but…

He couldn’t find it in him to break Charlotte’s heart with it.

“Yeah,” he managed to say. “We are but— what if she wasn’t?”

“What if she wasn’t in love with you?” Charlotte scoffed a laugh. “Well then she wouldn’t have married you, easy as that.”

Right.

It was supposed to be as easy as that for sure.

“I honestly don’t understand why you’re so stressed about this,” Charlotte said. “You love her, do you not?”

“Of course I love her,” he said, without even a second of hesitation and Charlotte motioned at him.

“There you go.”

Truth to be told, Benedict could hardly believe there was a time when he wasn’t in love with her, when he had no idea of her existence. It was as if his whole life before her was a waste; or merely the waiting process until meeting her.

It felt absurd, really. All this time he had read about love, tried to paint it, tried to understand it while she was right there, hidden away from his gaze until just a couple of months ago.

And he still couldn’t tell whether she loved him, or whether she would love him. It was nearly torment as she told him it would be, yet he still couldn’t help but hope...

That she would love him.

He was no fool, he could see that the desire was there. Even before their kiss in the garden or their first dance; it had been there for a while. That fire he was feeling whenever he so much as looked at her or inhaled her scent or touched her hand, even in those stolen moments where her glare turned into a tentative softness—

But that wasn’t love.

And today something had changed.

At the chapel and even on the way back home, he could see that she was trembling and it had taken his all willpower not to hold her. She had more or less thrown herself out of the carriage as soon as it had stopped, and the message was clear as day. Benedict had a feeling that pushing her to talk would backfire terribly no matter how much he wanted otherwise, and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to tell him anything until she wanted to do so.

He had hoped she would at least start trusting him a little after saying their vows but so far, this whole day had proved him otherwise.

He ran his hand through his hair and let out a breath.

“Has she told you anything?” Benedict asked and Charlotte looked up from the sketches.

“Hm?”

“Has she told you anything today? Before the wedding or after?”

“Well I’ve barely had the chance to talk to her after the wedding because you dragged me here,” she reminded him. “And before…I don’t know, she was just nervous. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Right,” he said as he started pacing again. “I feel like I should’ve read books or something.”

“On what?”

“How to be a good husband, I’m sure some idiot somewhere wrote a manual about it.”

“I don’t think you need a manual.”

“It certainly feels like I need a manual,” Benedict said as he brushed a hand over his face. “Half of the time I can’t even tell what she’s thinking, and now we’re married and some day I will say the wrong thing or do something wrong on accident and will lose her forever—”

“Benny,” Charlotte cut him off. “Stop. Just answer me one thing.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with her, yes?”

“She’s the love of my life.”

“And you’d do anything for her?”

“Anything. I would die for her.”

Charlotte repressed a smile and tilted her head.

“And you want to make her happy?”

“There’s nothing I want more in life,” Benedict said and shook his head. “Everything else but her comes second.”

Charlotte thought for a moment and shrugged her shoulders.

“Sounds like something a good husband would say or think,” she stated. “I think you’ll do just fine, and you know how I’m always right about everything.”

Benedict felt a small smile pull at his lips. “Thanks Charlie.”

“Anytime,” she said with a grin and turned her head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ben?” Colin’s voice carried into the room before the door opened. “Lottie, hello. Ben you’re needed, come with me.”

Benedict heaved a sigh. “I greeted almost everyone downstairs—”

“It’s not the guests.”

Benedict pulled his brows together. “What? Who then?”

Colin cleared his throat and pointed back with his thumb. “Your wife just passed out.”

Benedict’s heart dropped, his breath getting caught in his throat and he stared at Colin for a moment before rushing past him out of the room with Charlotte following him suit.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Breakdowns | Dream Reaction #8

Reaction: When their gf has a mental breakdown

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Warnings: mentions of mental breakdowns, anxiety, and other mental health stuff

Word Count: 2636k

Author's Note: I know I've written scenarios similar to this. But someone on my most recent post for Jeno left a comment saying I should make an imagine version. So I thought decided to just try it. Because who doesn't love mental breakdowns? On the serious side, I really hope you have someone in your life who is there for you during hard times. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

Mark and you were different but similar at the same time. You tend to approach things with logic and pessimism. On the other hand, he was more optimistic and expressive with his thoughts. But you were similar in the sense that you were both workaholics. Sometimes you chastised him about overworking. But deep down, you knew you were a hypocrite because you did the same thing. 

Lately, you’ve been having trouble balancing college and your part-time job at a bakery. There’s been drama with the upper management. As a result, people were getting frustrated and quitting. Your boss was also asking you to do things that were beyond your pay grade.

Since you were young, you formed this habit of letting stress pile up. Which obviously wasn’t healthy, but you’ve grown used to it. When the load got too heavy, an explosion was quick to follow.

Mark witnessed this for the first time when you came home from another late night. He had let himself into your apartment after his schedule for the day. When he heard the front door being unlocked, he quickly greeted you.

“Hey Babe, how was work?” 

You stared at your boyfriend momentarily, too tired to respond to his question. So you walked into his embrace. Your nose pressed against his gray hoodie, as your arms circled his waist to hug him. 

Mark was a little taken aback because you rarely initiated affection. He became more concerned when he felt something wet on his hoodie. That was when he realized you were…crying.

“(Y/n)?”

You didn’t respond and let the tears fall. Your body slowly started to tremble. Nothing particularly awful happened to make you cry. Things just got to be too much, and you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together anymore.

Luckily, Mark reacted quickly. Honestly, he was a little scared because he’s never seen you like this before. But he hugged you tightly, deciding that was what you needed right now. 

Moments later, you pulled away and looked up at him with red eyes and wet cheeks. Your eyes widened in panic at the tear stains you left on his shirt.

“I-I’m so sorry,” You cursed, still a little shaky. “I didn’t mean to—”

He cut you off by taking your hand. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

After helping you clean up, he brought you to your bedroom to lie down. There, he got you to talk about what’s been bothering you.  His arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Don’t feel like you have to keep in all that, okay?” He said later. “I know I get busy, but you’re important to me. I don’t want you struggling on your own.”

“Thank you…and I’m sorry again,” You mumbled, playing with his fingers.

He responded with a kiss on the crown of your head. “Don’t be. I love you, (Y/n)-ah.”

You closed your eyes and snuggled further into his chest, before whispering you loved him back. On a terrible day like the one you had, Mark’s embrace was the place you needed to be.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

Renjun knew about your tendency to overthink and how your head got to you sometimes. He could tell if you were having a bad day by the slightest change in your tone. Sometimes you didn’t want to talk about it, and he respected that. But he made sure you knew that he was always there when you needed him.

One day he found you on the floor, shaking with long, racking sobs. This wasn’t the first time Renjun has seen you break down like this. And it still broke his heart every time. 

He’d cautiously go over to kneel in front of you. You slowly lifted your head when he placed his hands on your shoulders. He was giving you the most gentle look, and the waterworks started again.

“R-Renjun…”

“(Y/n)-ah, I need you to breathe for me, okay?”

You nodded shakily and let him guide you into taking several deep breaths. Once you had calmed down a bit, Renjun brought you into his arms. 

Renjun and you weren’t the most affectionate couple. But it was during those moments that you found yourself seeking his touch the most. And if comfort was what you needed, Renjun had no problem showing how deeply he loved you.

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

The first thing Jeno did after getting back from Japan was see you. Barely a week had passed since you last saw each other, excluding the late-night video calls in between. But being the clingy boy he was, that time away was too long for Jeno.

Honestly, you were happy to see him too. He came to your place, where you prepared home-cooked food for him. So Jeno had a nice time catching up and giving you all the kisses he missed.

In the middle of him telling you a behind-the-scenes story, your phone screen lit up with a text notification. You side glanced over to see the message and flipped the device over. Jeno caught the slight frustration in your expression.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

You forced a smile on your face and nodded. “Just stuff with my mom. It’s fine though, I’m fine.”

Jeno knew you were lying because you always used that response in these situations. Regardless, he chose to not ask any further questions, with the hope that you’d come to him eventually.

When it got late, you suggested he just stay over for the night. You partially asked out of selfishness. Lately, you haven’t been sleeping well and thought you’d have an easier time if Jeno was there. You didn’t tell him this, but he happily took up your offer.

Jeno fell asleep long before you did. He was probably exhausted from the three-day concert and traveling. You, on the other hand, could not sleep for the life of you. Instead, you ended up getting drowned in your thoughts. You hated it, how every dark thought you had seemed to creep up on you at night. 

Despite being a heavy sleeper, Jeno was awakened when he heard soft whimpering. He slowly opened his eyes to see your back facing him on the other side of the bed. He could tell you were trying not to wake him.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He asked groggily.

You pressed your arm against your eyes and wailed, “I’m such a bad daughter.”

Jeno didn’t need to ask any questions to know what you were talking about. He knew about the immense guilt you put on yourself for the current relationship with your mother. Even though you acted otherwise, he knew she had hurt you a lot over the years.

“No you’re not,” He said affirmatively, squeezing you tighter. “Your mom just doesn’t realize how blessed she is to have you in her life.”

Jeno’s words only made you cry harder. But he held you the entire time. He wouldn’t go back to sleep until he was sure you were okay. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you up,” You said later, sniffling.

“Don’t apologize,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He lifted his head and gave you a look. “(Y/n).”

Your mouth opened to apologize again but quickly closed. Jeno chuckled and pulled you in closer so that your head would rest on his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat calmed you. Jeno would probably persuade you to talk some more in the morning. But for now, you were content with sleeping in his arms.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Early in your relationship, Haechan was positive you were the one for him. He loved how you encouraged him to follow his dreams, and supported him in the hard times. You made him a better person. He loved you so much that it was overwhelming. And whenever you were hurting, he hurt as well.

As time passed, Haechan began to notice a pattern with you. Any negative emotion you experienced was bottled up inside and kept hidden away. Until something or someone pushed you to your limits.

Usually, Haechan was with you when that happened. He’d scoop you into his arms and do his best to calm you down. While he didn’t mind giving you all the love in the world, his physical comfort could only do so much for you.

The following day you’d act like you didn’t spend the previous night crying your eyes out. And the cycle started again. Despite the number of times, Haechan witnessed the effects of holding everything in, you never did anything about it. 

After another breakdown, Haechan sat down with you on the couch and decided to confront this issue. He used his thumb to wipe a stray tear off our cheek.

He hesitated before bringing your hand in his. “Jagiya, this isn’t healthy. You know that, right?”

You met his sad brown eyes. By the soft way he was speaking and the genuine concern in his eyes, you knew that he was being serious. You glanced down at your hands and mumbled a barely audible, “I know.”

His opposite hand reached to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He was always so gentle and caring with his touch. 

“Do you want to go see a counselor or therapist?” He asked cautiously. 

Haechan’s suggestion set off an internal conflict in your brain. In the past, seeing a professional had crossed your mind. Clearly, you did a poor job of handling your mental health. But the thought of actually addressing this problem terrified you.

Seeming to have read your mind, Haechan then added, “I know it sounds scary. But I think talking to someone can really help. At least give it a chance?”

You didn’t say anything for two or three minutes. The anxious part of you wanted to just hide away like you always did. But if Haechan was so willing to help you get better, maybe you should try it for his sake.

“Will you be there with me?” You then asked, still hesitant. He smiled at your question.

“Of course,” He said, squeezing your hand. “We’re in this together.”

Haechan leaned over to place a peck on your lips, before returning to your previous cuddling position. At that moment, you knew that Haechan truly loved you. And you truly loved him back.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

Jaemin knew you were having a hard time because of your parent’s divorce. On the outside, you pretended as if you weren’t that bothered. You kept brushing the topic off, saying that you saw it coming years ago. But Jaemin saw right through you.

One night after he came back from a schedule, he caught you having a breakdown. You had your knees curled up to your chest. Your hands soaked with tears as they pressed harshly against your eyes. Seeing you like that broke his heart.

You’d slowly lift your head when you felt him sink on the sofa cushion beside you. Immediately, you panicked because you didn’t intend for him to see you in this state.

“Jaemin I—” 

But he shushed you and engulfed you in the biggest hug on earth. 

“Just let it out, Jagiya. I’m here now, it’s okay.”

His words pulled a trigger, and then you were crying your heart out. Jaemin could feel all the frustration and grief you’ve been holding in. He stayed the whole time, gently rocking you back and forth, and pressing a dozen kisses into your hair. He also made sure to remind you that you weren’t weak for crying. 

Being in Jaemin’s arms made you feel like he was the only person in the world you could be your true self around. You seriously didn’t know what you’d do without him.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

Ever since you were young, you’ve been an overachiever. Back then, your parents’ approval was what drove you to get good grades. But after entering college—with the absence of parents, you were finally in control of your life. However, you still carried the mindset of having to excel at everything, no matter what.

So far, things were going pretty smoothly. You were able to handle all your classes just fine. All except for calculus. Math wasn’t your weakest subject, but it wasn’t your strongest either. Sometimes it takes longer for you to understand certain concepts. By the time it came for assessments, you were usually fine.

Unfortunately, you were not having the same experience this year. No matter how many notes you took during class, or how much time you spent outside of class studying, it never seemed enough.

The high-stress levels from this class were slowly breaking you down. So much so, that you kind of forgot you had a boyfriend. You seldom missed Chenle’s text messages and replied right away. He figured you were just busy. But he got worried when three days passed, and there was still no response from you.

So he visited your apartment one evening to make sure everything was okay. He punched in the passcode to your door lock and let himself in. All the lights were turned off in the living room. The kitchen was the same. Only when he entered your bedroom did he see you, mercilessly gripping your hair as tears rolled down your face.

He rushed to your side and pulled your hands off your head. “(Y/n), what’s wrong?!”

“I’m so stupid!” You cried, hitting your fist on the desk. Chenle glanced at the crumpled test paper on your desk.

“One low test score doesn’t mean you’re stupid, (Y/n)-ah,” He spoke softly, rubbing your back. “It’s just one grade. You’ll bring it up in no time.”

You shook your head. “I’ve been studying so hard, but I still don’t understand it.”

“And you probably haven’t eaten or slept, right?” Chenle responded, standing up. 

And that was how you spent the rest of the afternoon being pampered by your boyfriend. He insisted that you take a break and wouldn’t let you go anywhere near your schoolwork. After getting you to eat, you guys would cuddle on the couch.

“Wow, your eyes are red,” He muttered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You pulled his hand away with a glare. 

“Shut up.”

He laughed and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. “No, you look cute though!”

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

In Jisung’s mind, you were so strong. Knowing all that you’ve been through, he admired the way you walked out of it as a mature, loving person. But he was also aware of the scars life had left on you.

Remember those late-night talks that have been mentioned several times in previous Jisung scenarios? It was in those rare moments when the two of you were alone, that you’d open up to Jisung. The two of you would sit on the couch with one blanket covering your lap. 

It was kind of an introvert thing for you, going so long without having a real conversation with someone. Then when you finally got the chance, everything sort of just spilled out. For you, Jisung was your safe place. You felt like you could tell him anything, and he would never judge you.

Sometimes you didn’t realize how much you held in until you guys talked. Then the emotions would sort of hit, and you’d break down. But Jisung would be right there to hug you tightly.

After a while, Jisung pulled away slightly and cupped your face in his hands. He caught the last few tears with his thumbs. Though you often talked about everything you hated about yourself, he couldn’t see any of it. When Jisung looked at you, he just saw beauty.

“I love you, (Y/n),” He said, knowing he didn’t say it enough. 

And that simple reminder was enough to get you through whatever storm you were in. 

✎__________________________________________________________

[esmedelacroix]

"I hate it when you make me laugh,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

"I hate it when you lie" ← previous part

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You could choose to be a nice mature partner and just communicate why you were angry with Miguel with him. But he decided to be a terrible lying cheating husband last night so you decided to be childish and be mad at him all day.

That started with breakfast. Usually whoever woke up first made breakfast. Unfortunately, that person was you. It was one of his sleep-in days where he didn't have to work until later in the day. You weren't going to starve him just because you were mad at him so you did the next best thing.

You made him something he hated. He didn't tell you he hated it when you made it but you knew he forced himself to eat it. So you had a banana-themed breakfast. Banana bread, banana pancakes, banana smoothies, you name it.

"Buen día, mi amor[Good morning, my love]," Miguel grumbled rubbing his eyes.

You hummed in response and plated the last of breakfast. "Since you ate them all the last time I made it, I thought I'd make banana pancakes again," you said, sliding him a plate.

"Oh, you really didn't have to," he said as he dug in with a neutral facial expression. Miguel ate anything he was giving. But that didn't mean he didn't have an opinion about the food he ate. He still ate it. It didn't seem to visibly bother him but you knew he was suffering on the inside.

You focused on keeping your facial expression on a permanent scowl as you ate. Miguek kept looking up at you whenever he wasn't eating his breakfast. He stared. You could already tell he was analyzing you. God, you hated it when he did that. He probably knew exactly what we were thinking.

"Since you're upset with me about yesterday night, I took the day off. We could go anywhere you want, let me make it up to you," he said.

Darn it, how did he already figure me out? You asked yourself. You hummed in response masking your shock.

"We can even go to the rodeo-themed male strip club you went to at your bachelorette party, but you lied to me about just having a spa night," he smirked. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face and soon you were laughing out loud.

"There's that smile I love," he hummed to himself.

"How do you know about that?" you breathed out after almost doubling over with laughter.

"Who do you think paid for it?" he responded as he sipped his coffee. That made you laugh again.

"Aw, this sucks. I was supposed to be mad all day," you sighed.

"I know but I don't like seeing you upset. Why are you upset?" he asked like he didn't know he fully lied to you about being with another woman late at night.

"Well, I don't know, ask Justine," you replied.

"Oh god," Miguel said, rubbing his eyes.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were with her instead of spending the night with your wife," you asked.

"Because I knew you were going to be upset about it so I planned to tell you today, the last thing I want you thinking is that anything is going on between me and Justine. Babe, I get that she's "young and pretty" or whatever but respectfully I would never cheat on you with someone who is literally in college," He explained.

"She's like a little sister, even a daughter to me," he continued.

"I know, I just can't help myself. I've never been so jealous before. Like in my whole life, I think," you said.

"That's not true," he interjected.

"Okay whatever but you get what I'm saying," you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Is everything cleared up now?" he asked.

"Not exactly but we can talk more about it today," you answered.

"At the strip club?" he teased, giving you a nudge."Oh shut up," you snapped blushing. How the hell did he find out about that seriously? You asked yourself. Jess would definitely be getting an interrogating phone all later today.

. . .

next part → "Even worse when you make me cry"

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taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300 @safixiovi @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @aktenati @straw-berry-ghoul @vera4luv

[mustangs-flames]

Luke 24:2-3

It speaks in Cesar's voice.

But it is not Cesar.

The phone hangs off the hook, silent. No connection. Not anymore. The woman who'd answered the past few times no longer deigned to answer, not even to feed him the comfort of a lie.

No one is coming.

It has been three days.

Father. Son. Holy Spirit.

All have abandoned him to this tomb.

And on the third day, the stone rolled away.

The door will open - it is inevitable. A lock could never have kept such a thing out in the first place. Like the lady on the phone, it was just a lie to make him think he was safe. That someone was coming.

Something is coming. It's right outside his door.

His Bible holds no answers for he no longer knows what he seeks. The words are hollow - they echo loudly with each frantic turn of a page. What he searches for cannot be found within a book he is certain, no matter how holy it is.

Who have I been praying to all this time?

The answer waits just outside.

He is tired. He is scared. He sits against the bedpost with what little he has scattered about his feet - empty Scripture and frantic thoughts smeared onto lined paper, a cross that weighs heavier than it ever has chained about his throat. A video camera blinking idly, capturing his shame: casting aside childish comforts for the imagined embrace of an absent God.

But he is just a boy.

He wants his mom.

The gun is a blemish on the ground beside him. Awful, terrible, and yet he cannot tear his eyes away from it. Cannot ignore how his hand itches to pick it up and yet it shakes whenever he tries.

He can't go through with it.

Can he?

But God isn't there. God cannot see, doesn't know the terrible thought that has crossed his mind time and time again during this confinement. His eyes have been opened and he cannot close them. No matter how hard he tries.

He knows it is coming.

It's now or never.

He picks it up through tears. There is no time to write farewells, to make closure with loved ones who've left him here - so very, very alone. He should've done so earlier. He had three days, after all.

But he'd thought someone was coming. He'd believed the lies. He'd wanted to believe them. Someone had to be coming for him.

God help him, he is just a boy.

It is the third day.

He stands up and levels the gun, hands braced, finger against the trigger, thumb drawing back the hammer. He is shaking, he knows, but what else can he do? He wants to put up some kind of fight - to at least die on his own terms.

He wants to die a man.

But he will die a boy.

The latch clicks. The door handle begins to turn.

It is the third day.

And, at last, the stone rolls aside.