#That siren song is playing again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whateveriwant · 5 months

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Idk if you're taking requests, but here I am. Maybe TF 141 with an S/O who has ADHD and when going places, like a mall, for example they'll just completely walk away and they'll just loose their S/O

I took 'reader who is always walking away' and ran with it… ba dum tss (sorry, I had to). Anyway, I hope this is sorta what you were looking for! I was in a Christmas-y mood so all of these are winter/holiday themed!

Price

The park is especially busy for a Friday afternoon. There's children playing in the snow, daring youths having a go on the frozen lake, and families everywhere making memories to last a lifetime.

You've only been sitting on this bench for roughly a quarter of an hour before Price starts to squirm beside you, something clearly making him uncomfortable. Before you can even ask what it is, he's standing from the seat in one brisk motion.

“Be back in a moment, darling,” he grumbles. “The cold makes me need to piss like a stallion.”

As he takes off to find a place to relieve himself, all you can do is laugh and call after him to, “Wash your hands!”

Five minutes and one desecrated tree later, he emerges from the secluded thicket of bushes he found, zipping up his fly discreetly. He makes his way back to the bench you'd been seated at, a bit of a spring to his step… only to deflate once he discovers you’ve disappeared into thin air.

He sighs out loud – a long, drawn-out sound. He could say he's surprised but then he'd be lying. He knows you and your tendency to wander off; this is nothing new to him. Now it's just a matter of finding you again… for the third time this week, he remarks internally.

He would try calling you but he already knows you forgot your phone at home. He's got to get better about reminding you to take it with you whenever you leave the house, especially if he's constantly having to chase after you like you're some sort of loose gerbil.

Thankfully, he sees a set of footprints which he believes to be yours leading away from the bench. So, with no better clues to guide him, he decides to follow after the tracks, hoping they'll lead him right to you.

It's not long into it that he hears a sound in the distance, sort of a low, pleasant humming that grows stronger the closer he gets. It's only a minute or two later when – eureka! – he finds you standing with a small crowd who've gathered to listen to a group of carolers.

Ahh, of course. He should've known. You just can't resist a good live performance. Like a siren calling to you in a storm, one way or another, you'll always find your way to them.

Price easily sidles up next to you, flashing a smile when you briefly turn to take notice of him. His hand finds the small of your back as he joins you in listening, enjoying the festive songs performed by the carolers.

You're standing for a while, attention fully drawn to the singers ahead, when at some point you lean into Price’s ear, your voice lowered to a whisper.

“You washed your hands?” Your question is earnest, if not a little playful.

In response, and with a tone most firm, he declares simply, “...Yep.” Though, the way his hand slips from your back and into his coat pocket reeks of something awfully similar to guilt.

Ghost

You're on your 15th row when you spot it. There, standing not quite two and a half meters tall, perfectly green and dense and conical: your Christmas tree for the year.

An excited squeal leaves your lips and you swiftly run up to the tree to admire its beauty. “This is it! This is the one! Oh, isn't it just perfect?” you say reverently.

“Hold on a minute, love,” Ghost tries to rein you in as he lags a bit further behind. “Isn't that wha' you said about the one a few rows back? Wha' about that one?”

Oh yeah! You forgot all about that tree!

Well, now that he's reminded you, you want to do a little comparison. You tell him to stay put and guard this one while you quickly run back to check out that other one.

Two, five, nearly ten minutes pass and you haven't returned, much to Ghost’s chagrin. He thinks his bollocks must’ve shrunk three sizes by now from how long he's been standing out in this freezing cold.

After a dozen or so minutes, he tries ringing you, just to make sure everything’s alright. When there's no answer on the other end, he tries again, but is met with the same silence that has a streak of alarm bolting up his spine.

Ghost has always been a worrywart when it comes to his loved ones, and that concern only amplifies when it comes to large crowds and even larger spaces.

What's taking so long? Where have you gone? Are you lost? Hurt? Something worse? His mind begins to spiral.

Fuck it, he decides, and abandons the tree in order to seek you out. As he searches, row after row yields nothing but strangers and snow-capped firs. By now he's starting to fully panic, running around like a maniac, drawing the eyes of everyone in the lot as he yells out your name.

When he finally runs into you again – literally runs into you – he's out of breath, his heart pounding, and he grabs your shoulders with his strong hands and nearly shakes you out of your knitted cap.

“Don't scare me like that!” he's more exasperated than angry, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thought somethin’ might've happened to you,” he confesses, holding you to his chest like he thinks you'll evaporate if he lets go.

“M’sorry,” you mumble into the wall of hard muscle. “Got distracted.” The excuse is as weak as your skeleton feels beneath his embrace.

Distracted? What could have possibly distracted you enough that you didn't hear him screaming your name?

You pull back just enough to look at him, a sad curl to your lip that he can tell is forced. “I saw the cutest French bulldog,” you say, and Ghost has the audacity to scoff. “No, really! He was wearing the most adorable little Christmas jumper, and his name was Bark-tholomew. Bark-tholomew!” you stress.

Now that he knows you're safe and sound, Ghost loosens his hold on you, closing his eyes as he feels his pulse begin to slow.

“I asked the owners for a picture. Do you wanna see him?” you add hopefully.

When Ghost opens his eyes again, he's met with that sweet look on your face – that one he's unable to resist. He holds his breath for a beat or two, before letting out a deep, resonating sigh. “...Yeah, alright. Let's see it.”

Soap

It's unsurprising to find the mall jam-packed the week before Christmas, but that doesn't mean Soap isn't still annoyed by the swarm of bodies. But that's what he gets for waiting so long to go holiday shopping. Curse those last-minute deals and his inability to pass them up!

However, rather than wandering aimlessly through the mall, Soap has a game plan for today's spree. He knows exactly what stores he wants to hit, in the order he wants to hit them. And with you following closely behind to help, he's sure it'll be no sweat.

The first shop is easy enough to navigate with you trailing after him – providing your input when he inquires, and holding his items for him once he picks the one he wants. The second shop is much the same and the third even easier.

It's on the way to the fourth where, too caught up in his lists, Soap doesn't notice as you divert from the path, something else much more appealing stealing your attention away. It isn't until he's trying to decide between the last remaining pairs of snowmen or gingerbread men socks that he turns to ask your opinion, only to find you nowhere in sight.

He peers around the store for a second, not spotting you anywhere, before he suddenly feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. Your picture flashes across his screen and when he answers, the first question out of your mouth is, “Where are you?”

Where is he? Where are you? You were supposed to be following him, he not-so-subtly reminds you.

“I'm by the Cinnabon,” you tell him, then make a sound like you're taking a sip of something. “They've got hot chocolate. Giving out free cups of it,” you say, and that has Soap's ears instantly perking up.

Oh. So that's what had you scurrying off in his time of need. Honestly though, he can't say he'd have done any differently if he had caught scent of it like you did.

His movements falter for a beat, slowly lowering both pairs of socks in his hands. “Get me a cup, will ya?”

“Sorry. Can't.”

‘Can't’?! Well, why not?

You inform him that they're only giving out one per person and they seem to be running a pretty tight ship, so it's not like you could sneak another under the radar. And that makes sense, he supposes. They want everyone to have a chance to enjoy some.

“But that's why I called,” you continue. “It looks like they're almost out. So if you want one, you gotta come quick.”

The sudden deadline has Soap's eyes darting down to the themed socks in his hands. If he leaves now, they'll no doubt be snatched up by someone else. But the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate is equally as tempting, if not more so.

After debating with himself for about half a second, he asks, “…Where’d ye say ye were again?” as he places the hangers back on their racks. “By the Cinnabon. Right.” He makes his way to the front of the store, moving as quickly as possible. “Wait there,” he tells you, and once he's out the door, he's running full speed, his shopping bags swinging violently in his hands. “I'm comin’!”

Gaz

The night before Christmas seemed as good a night as any to take a walk around the neighborhood. So once you and Gaz had bundled up all nice and warm, you went for a stroll around the block, heading wherever your feet decided to take you.

Over an hour later, you're both just enjoying the evening – giving cheerful greetings to passing neighbors, turning down unexplored streets as you try to soak in this gorgeous night.

It's as you come up to another fork in the road that Gaz suddenly realizes one of his shoes is untied. He stoops to tie the laces, eyes cast down in his concentration, and as he does, you continue walking ahead, completely unaware that you're leaving him behind.

By the time he's finished and stands up again, you've vanished into the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.

Damn it. There you've gone and done it again. He knew he should have invested in one of the backpack leash things you see parents try to wrangle their wayward kids in.

You’d both left your phones at home in order to try to fully immerse yourself in this experience, so now he's forced to go old school when it comes to finding you.

He knows you couldn't have gotten very far; it's only a matter of if you went one way or the other. He picks a direction at random and after walking for a moment, he comes across a passerby whom he asks if they've seen someone matching your description. When they say they haven't, he then doubles back, repeating the process in the opposite direction.

Before long, thankfully, Gaz thinks he spots you stopped in front of a house not too far in the distance. He jogs up to where you're standing, and when he comes within earshot, he jokes, “Need to get you a bell or something, hun.”

Though the joke was lame at best, you don't react to it at all; don't even seem to hear it, honestly, which is likely given how distracted you currently are.

Your focus is entirely drawn to the house before you, your back to the street as you stare up at the brick facade. The house is stunning, absolutely covered top to bottom in all sorts of Christmas lights and decorations. It's by far the best display you've seen all year, and a breath of pure amazement leaves your lips as you take it in.

“Wow…” The word clouds the chilled air with a light puff of smoke. “Isn't it beautiful?” your awe bleeds into your voice, making it gentle, dreamy, like a sweet bell ringing in his ears.

Your tone has Gaz turning to face you, watching how you marvel at the way the lights twinkle and shine. A kaleidoscope of colors reflect off your skin, and an almost angelic glow seems to radiate from within you the longer he looks.

As he admires you, Gaz can't help how a smile slowly overtakes his face. With his eyes still trained on you, he takes your hand with his, and speaks softly, almost in a whisper, “Yeah… beautiful.”

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momotonescreaming · 1 year

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Steve Harrington was born a siren, just like his mother. Perfect skin, rosy cheeks, silky soft hair. He had her eyes, her nose, the tilt of her lips. He was supposed to be the perfect son to match Mr Harrington’s perfect wife. Handsome and charming. The heir to the Harrington Empire.

His mother was beautiful, always looking perfect. Not a hair out of place or her lipstick smudged. Steve always thought his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, as all kids do. Turns out he was more right than most. She was ethereal, unapproachable, gorgeous in a way you couldn’t quite place. In a way only sirens can be. No wonder his father wanted her.

When he got older Steve realised it was her siren song, that made his father want her. She could charm anyone with a flick of her hair and a swish of her skirt. A wink and a laugh and you would be entranced. And if she sang, spoke to you with a special lilt to her voice, you would be under her spell. And so he bought her to work parties, on business trips, dinners with potential work partners. And she would charm whoever he wanted charmed. And then his father would be promoted, given a raise, and the cycle repeated.

He didn’t love her, and he didn’t love Steve either. And so Steve didn’t sing. Ever. No singing in the shower, no humming in the halls. No karaoke or lilting his voice. He wasn’t going to entrance anyone. He wasn’t going to con his way to the top, just like dear old dad.

Steve became popular anyway. He was handsome, he was charming, he made people want to do things for him - just by existing. He was a siren. It was easier for him, dealing with people. He knows what they’re feeling, what they crave, what they desire. And it’s so easy to take that want and twist it just so. Make his life a little easier. Make it so maybe, his dad with love him if Steve does what he wants, just like his mother.

It doesn’t work. He’s a disappointment and his father doesn’t love him. He promises to himself to never sing again.

Mrs Harrington taught him everything he knows. What she didn’t tell him about, was the itch, the burning underneath his skin. The all encompassing desire to be in the water. He needs it. He craves it. Apparently, when he was a toddler, he would happily play in the bath for hours and hours and throw a hell of a tantrum when it was time to come out. As a kid, he would spend all Saturday swimming in the pool, only getting out when his father yelled at him.

It wasn’t the same as the lake. The pool was nice, but the water wasn’t fresh. It wasn’t natural. The first time he swam in a lake, on a free afternoon over summer vacation, he grew gills. The more he swam, the more prominent they became, the easier it was to swim. And then his fingers started to web together. It was freeing, it was everything, it was as natural as anything. Young Steve came home with scales growing on his legs only to be met with the stern face of his mother.

He couldn’t swim in the lake again. He can’t transform. People can’t know what he is. What she is. The itch gets worse. He’s constantly sipping at water bottles to alleviate the sensation. It doesn’t really work. He joins the swim team. That doesn’t help either. He doesn’t know how his mother does it.

He dreams of the ocean. His parents leave for another business trip. He sneaks out to Lovers Lake.

Steve hides his car in the trees, finds what he thinks is an old abandoned dock, and strips down to his underwear. He dives in with a perfect arch, and swims until the scales start forming. Coming up for air, Steve doesn’t realise how long it’s been — but it must have been a while since there’s a boy on the dock.

Shoes next to him, ripped jeans rolled up so he can dip his feet in the water. Long curly hair falling in waves around his face. A lit cigarette perched between pink lips. Chocolate brown eyes, fluttering lashes. He’s beautiful, and he’s singing.

Steve can’t stop staring.

#idk what possesed me here i just need siren steve #Stranger Things #Stranger Things AU #Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Siren AU #My Writing

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eumppattv · 5 months

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OOPS, IV’E FALLEN IN LOVE | enha ft. hybe game caterers

enhypen falling in love with you during hybe game caterers

pairing ot7 x idol!reader genre ᩍ fluff, love at first sight warnings ꕁ none ➜ masterlist enha permanent taglist here! a/n: requests are open :)

heeseung ☆ ⊹ ๑

you stepped up, handing heeseung the microphone. you had expressed how you admired him as a vocalist, and that was enough for him to join you in the duet. the goal was for you to get a perfect score in the karaoke machine, and he was determined to make it happen. he was so focused on his part, until he heard your voice. it was like a siren, pulling him in until he couldn’t remember where he was standing. after you finished your line, he just started at you. the mc said something about heeseung forgetting his line, but he was too focused on you to hear. he just wanted to hear your voice again.

jay ☆ ⊹ ๑

jay was totally messing up. he had a song blasting in his ears, and was desperately trying to concentrate on your lips. you were saying something, but he couldn’t decipher it. then it happened; you smiled at him. let’s just say he forgot about the game right then and there. you were laughing because no matter how much you slowed down you speech, he still could not guess the word. but now your laughing had him flustered, the tips of his ears turning red. he didn’t care how long the game would take because of his confusion- he just wanted to see you smile at him again.

jake ☆ ⊹ ๑

jake had never met anyone as competitive as him. you were on the field for the soccer portion of the day. you ran up on the field, cheering your team on. then you were called as team captain to walk up to enhypen captain, jake. now face to face, you were asked about your strategy for the game. you replied that there was no strategy because you were just that good. that made jake laugh, and he gave a cocky reply back. throughout the game, there was some banter between you two, until finally your team came out victorious. you stuck your tongue out at jake, and he laughed. he did not stop talking about you to the boys when they returned to their table.

sunghoon ☆ ⊹ ๑

we all know the moment in the last game caterers, where sunghoon forgot eunchae’s name and had to look at her name tag. so this year, they decided to make a game specifically for him: name that idol. there were 5 idols in line, with you being at the end. your name tags were off, the goal being for sunghoon to go down the line and name each one of you. of course he went down the line, giving them different names or just simply giving up on even giving them names. then he got to you, and to everyone surprise- he knew your name. truth is he had been watching you throughout the day, and had learned your name easily. you were definitely special in his eyes.

sunoo ☆ ⊹ ๑

sunoo was tired, and incredibly hungry. as he ran the last lap, he felt a breeze pass by- followed by high pitch cheering. you had won, which meant you would be getting all the food for your team, including the mint chocolate ice cream. he quietly made his way back to the members, sitting down in his chair. his stomach growled, as he put his head down on the table. suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he sprung up in surprise. there you were, with a plate of food and a sweet smile. and there he was, heart full, eating his food while staring at you from across the field.

jungwon ☆ ⊹ ๑

they wanted to do a martial arts segment in this years game caterers. of course jungwon was a part of the event, but little did he know he would go up another martial artist turned idol; you. at first he was a little hesitant, talking to the host about how he didn’t want to hurt you. well, one thing to to another, and here he was. flipped onto the ground, you on top of him with the biggest smirk playing on your face. he was shocked to say the least, but seeing you beat him sparked his interest in you. by the end of the day, he was head over heels. he liked that you were strong, and he was looking forward to seeing you around.

ni-ki ☆ ⊹ ๑

it was the last round of random play dance. only two idols remained, both being the main dancers in their groups. you and ni-ki stepped up, your bodies moving to the familiar beat. suddenly, ni-ki froze up, forgetting the next move. he glanced over to you, hoping you hadn’t made the same mistake. instead he found you dancing your heart out, as if the song belonged to your group. anyone could see the hearts in his eyes. he hadn’t paid much attention to you or anyone during the day, but now he couldn’t look away from you. he had never seen anyone move so elegantly, and look so beautiful.

🝮 taglist open!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eumppattv #kflixnet #kfilms #en web #enhypen headcanons #enha #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunghoon #enha headcanons #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader

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astraystayyh · 9 months

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If the world was ending

Felix x reader. Estranged childhood best friends to lovers. Angst and happy ending. highly recommend listening to If the world was ending while reading :)

Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old, until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

cw: description of a car accident, reader has a fear of loud noises.

skz song series masterlist

12 march 2011

Screeching brakes, a jarring collision, glass shattering all around you, shards of it embedding into your tender skin. You are too young to understand it all, but you know it's bad. You are suddenly upside down, the only thing helping you stay put is the seatbelt fastened around you. You didn't really like seatbelts but your mom always insisted on you wearing one.

Your mom, you can't see her face, she's upside down too, and she isn't talking. That's unusual because you're crying and she isn't turning around to comfort you. Someone is screaming outside of your car, and then you are pulled out. You don't know who's touching you, and you want them to stop. Where is your mom? Why did they not pull her out too?

An ambulance approaches you; its loud sirens feel like pine needles drilling into your skull. You try to cover your ears but your hands are covered in blood. The world around you is painted red- the flashing lights of the sirens and the liquid oozing from your cuts. It’s no longer your favorite color.

27 may 2011

You are playing in the playground near your home, waving at your mom from the top of the slide. She's gotten better, she smiles more easily at you now. And you are trying to be a good kid too; you help wash the dishes and you clean your room all by yourself. You don't want your mom to feel sad again and go back to that dreaded hospital.

You slide out, happy giggles leaving your mouth, before climbing up the tiny stairs once again. But as you reach the top, an ambulance rushes by the playground. You don't know what's happening, but you suddenly feel shards of glass on your skin once again. Your hands are shaking as you sit on the floor, curling around yourself in a ball.

"What's wrong?" someone asks and you lift your head tentatively. It's a young boy, he's looking at you worriedly, a tiny pout on his lips.

"I don't like ambulances," you hiccup, burying your head in your knees again.

Suddenly, small hands cover your ears, muffling the shrill sound of sirens. They are warm and sticky from the red popsicle he’s still holding.

"Now you can't hear them," he giggles, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Despite your raging fear, a smile finds its way into your lips.

"What's those on your face," you ask with a small voice, pointing at the faint marks dusting his cheeks.

"They're called freckles," he says proudly and you nod.

"They're pretty."

"Thank you!" he grins at you, his hands still covering your ears. The tightness in your chest seems to dissipate slowly before his kind smile- the shadows never stood a chance in front of the sun.

"What's your name?"

"Felix. And you?"

"Yn."

"We should be friends," he beams and you grin back, agreeing wholeheartedly. "We should."

15 november 2021

You are sitting on the grass of that very same playground, Felix still by your side. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against your bodies, and you're wearing his red sweater. It smells like his cologne and your perfume- an intoxicating scent you've come to memorize by heart.

His nose tip is rosy from the cold, and you can't resist tapping it playfully. "Your nose is pink," you giggle, and he smiles, gently bopping yours in return.

"So is yours."

You look at him as he gazes up at the stars above. You love Felix, it has always been crystal clear to you. From the moment he planted the seed of his friendship into your soul, and throughout the years when it bloomed into something more, bigger than the two of you. It wrapped around your being entirely, binding itself into your every atom, until all you saw is his reflection in you.

And you were tired of treading the line between friendship and something more. You wanted, no craved being with him, your yearning so intense it spilled from you each time he was around. In rosy cheeks and shaky fingers and eyes that soften only when they rest on him- evidence of your love imprinted all upon you.

You take in a deep breath, before laying your hand gently on his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly at the soft touch, and you lean in closer to him. You brush your nose against his, slowly, "to warm it up," you whisper, as his breath hitches in his throat.

He's close, he's so close, you can almost taste the brownies you shared earlier on his lips. You can see his freckles ever so clearly, constellations you often find yourself getting lost in. Your hand is still on his cheek, and you can feel it burning up under your palm.

You close your eyes, as his lips are now just a breath away from yours. It's electrifying- having him so near to the way you've always dreamed, fantasized about. But he needs to be the one to take the jump, all he has to do is lean in a bit, and you'd kiss him. You won't ever let go.

"Lixie...," you choke out, "kiss me."

"I want to." His voice is hoarse with emotion, as if fighting with himself for self-restraint.

"So do it," you ask, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Your breaths mingle with one another in a dizzying dance.

"I'm leaving," he says so faintly, you believe for a second that you've imagined it.

"What?" you ask, leaning a bit away to be able to look at him.

"I'm leaving," he repeats, his eyes tightly shut. "We're moving to another country, for my dad's job."

"You're leaving me?" you ask, bewildered.

"I'm not leaving you-"

"But you are. You won't be here anymore." You drop your hand, taking hurried steps away from him. Touching him didn't feel electrifying anymore, it felt horrible and nauseous, because you won't get to do it again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-"

"How long have you known?"

"Yn..."

"Felix," you say, tone stern. "How long?"

"Six months," he whispers and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a week."

The pain becomes unbearable, and you turn your back to him so he wouldn't see your rapidly falling tears. You are angry, as a disguise for the sadness threatening to drown you. Him leaving tasted like the salty water you gulp when you dive in too quickly into the ocean. And you did dive in, in him, in his soul and everything that made up Felix. And now he was leaving you, with no anchor to help you float again.

"Is that why you insisted on spending so much time with me lately? Because you were leaving?"

"You need to understand I didn't know how to tell you, I- I don't even know who I am without you." He pleads, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reminding you of tiny diamonds. That's how it is with Felix, you found beauty in everything he did- even tearing your heart in half.

"Maybe you should've thought of how I would feel. You were thinking of leaving me while I..." Your voice breaks and you take a shaky breath. "While I was falling in love with you."

"I'm in love with you too," he quickly says, reaching out to hold your hand. "I love you, I always have." He's wrapping his arms around you, and you're letting him because it feels safe and secure. Because he’s still your Felix, even if he's leaving you behind.

You wonder what you must have done in a past life, what a horrible person you could've been for the universe to treat you this cruelly. To hand you everything you've ever wanted in a silver platter, and snatch it from your hands before you could dare to grab it.

"We'll make it work," he mumbles into your hair, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "We'll talk and we can be together."

"No, we can't. I'll just hold you back from living your new life, I can't have that."

"Don't talk like that, please," his voice wavers, words barely managing to slip out of his mouth. Regret overtakes your body so suddenly at the thought of his lips- you shouldn't have tried to kiss him. Maybe then he wouldn't have told you he was leaving.

"It's the truth. we'll grow to hate each other, distance will put a strain on us. I'd rather not talk to you than have you resent me."

"But-"

"Just hold me," you cut him off. "As if nothing's happening, please."

And he complies because Felix always does. Because he loves you and as much as he doesn't want to, he knows you're right.

•••••

It's been three months since Felix left- the days passed by agonizingly slowly, and yet the months went by in a blur, a hauntingly vivid reminder of what once was. At first, the texts between you two were frequent, but as time wore on, the messages grew sporadic, from your end, mostly. Seeing him flourish in his new life felt like salt on an open wound, a reminder that he was moving on while you were still anchored in memories of him.

You saw him in every corner of your city. The smell of brownies that he's made countless times, each time you felt sad. The way he kissed your cheek each time he won a game, while you were lying on his bed, bored. The way he hugged you whenever you were sick, gently tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. The way he covered your ears instinctively at each loud noise, knowing how scared it made you still.

And you've felt each of these emotions since he was gone. You were sad and bored and sick and happy and scared. And he wasn't here with you through them. Each moment away from Felix seemed to magnify what could have been- what should have been between the two of you.

There is a building construction next to you, loud cement blocks crashing to the ground. And you are curled around yourself in a protective ball, covering your ears with your hands, because Felix isn't here to do it anymore for you.

You and Felix have grown with one another, your soul carefully woven into his, like two threads intricately stitched into the same tapestry. Him leaving felt like half of your body was cut off from you, and you were left alone to figure out how to function with an incomplete heart.

17 july 2023

Summer break meant coming back home and sleeping in your childhood bedroom once again. Memories of Felix still lingered in there- posters he has given you and his red sweater that you've never found the courage to throw away. It doesn't hurt as much to remember him, the sharp pain morphed into a dull ache you've grown accustomed to by now.

You're watching the TV mindlessly when someone knocks on your door, and you go to open it without a second thought, expecting it to be your parents. It wasn't.

"Felix?" you stammer, stumbling back in shock. You blink repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make sure he's not a figment of your twisted imagination. You haven't uttered his name in so long, and the syllables felt both foreign and familiar in your mouth.

"It's me," he smiles sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"You are here," you whisper, stating the obvious. He didn't change much, his kind brown eyes and freckles still as captivating as before. But his features were sharper, prettier, and the sight of him is making you dizzy once again.

"I am."

"What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously, opening the door a bit wider to let him in.

"I requested a transfer to your university. I wanted to come back. I missed home, and I missed you," he adds softly, making a turmoil of emotions surge within you.

You clear your throat. "So, you are back for good?"

"I am," he says, smiling slightly at you as if to gauge your reaction. You stay silent and his grin falters; his tongue resting against the inside of his cheek, a habit he hasn't let go of apparently. He then walks to the kitchen and you follow suit. You don't have to show him around, he knows your home like the back of his hand. He spent most of his childhood here after all, even though his house was only a few blocks away.

"How have you been?" he asks as he opens the cupboard to take out a glass. He closes its door softly, careful not to make it thud.

"I'm good. It's summer break so I'm finally back home, what about you?"

"I'm good too. It's nice to be back."

Your conversation is strained and awkward, so unnatural of you both. There was so much to say, so much to ask about, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. He felt like uncharted territory to you now, one you didn't have the strength to discover once again.

"It's your mom's birthday tomorrow, right?" he smiles and you nod.

"Should we make her our cookies? Like we used to before I..."

"Before you left," you finish, bitterness dripping from your tone.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and you feel your heart suddenly clench in your chest. It was unfair for you to treat him this way. He was only seventeen and if your parents were to move away you would've followed them too.

"Okay, let's do it." You smile sincerely for the first time since he came back to you.

You both move seamlessly in the kitchen, each knowing your tasks like a choreographed dance. This was a tradition that started when you were twelve years old. You'd brown the butter while he beat the egg and sugar together. He'd sift the flour while you cut up chocolate. He'd mix it all while you preheat the oven. And then you'd roll the dough together.

Your hands brush against one another as you shape up the cookies, and it feels so intense you almost drop to the floor. You miss him, you miss him so much and he's near you and you can't seem to think straight anymore.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, he silently washes the dishes while you dry them. He abruptly pauses, hands still covered in soap before turning back to you.

"Can we talk? Please?" he says too quickly as if he's been overthinking asking this question.

"I'm busy today," you scramble to think of an excuse, you weren't ready to face him yet.

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm staying with my mom, then there is Han’s party."

"I'll be there too. We can talk then, please?" he asks, eagerness evident in his voice.

"Fine. Let's talk there," you concede and he nods, awkwardly shifting in his place. He finishes the dishes before drying his hands. You avoid his gaze and he sighs softly. "I'll get going. Tell your mom happy birthday from me."

"Will do." You smile tightly and he does the same, before finally leaving your home, and in his trail, a maelstrom of emotions you weren't certain how to deal with.

18 july 2023

You're at the reunion party Han is hosting with all your high school friends. You watch as Felix takes turns talking to everybody. He fits right in here, a puzzle perfectly clicking in place as if he's never left. He's telling a joke to Chan who laughs loudly, hitting Minho's arm repeatedly. Everyone is happy he's back, because they never had to gravel with the consequences of his absence. Because he's never ripped their heart out.

Felix is looking for you around the room- he hasn't seen you in a while. He assumes you're somewhere around the house, and that you'd like to talk when time has passed. The knot in his stomach tightens as the weight of your conversation dawns on him, he longs to be with you, to undo the past two years he has spent away from you. But he's afraid to mess everything up, once again, so he stays near his friends who are now pulling him outside of the house.

"We have a surprise for you," Han says excitedly before pointing at the sky, "look."

Fireworks, a dazzling show of blue, red and yellow. And Felix feels as if the colors were drained out of his face and splattered into the night sky before him.

"Where is yn?" he turns to Chan, eyes wide.

"Inside, I think. Why?"

"Stop- stop this, don't start any more fireworks," he urges the boy who's looking at him worriedly.

"Why, what's wrong? We have a warrant to start them, don't worry."

"No, no you don't understand. Yn hates loud noises," he explains frantically, before bolting inside the house.

He's yelling your name, and you are nowhere to be found, the sound of the fireworks so loud he isn't even sure you can hear him.

He opens door after door, and after painstakingly long seconds he finally finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, your head buried in your knees. Just like you were twelve years ago.

Felix doesn't waste any time, kneeling in front of you to cover your ears with his hands, you look up at him, waterline brimming with unshed tears.

"It's okay, I'm here. Just focus on my voice," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you clasp your hands on top of his, doing your best to muffle the sound of the explosions.

"Your hands are still small," you attempt to joke, as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You hated how scared you still were.

"The perfect size to cover your ears," he smiles at you, his eyes softening when they take in your distressed state.

You hiccup, overcome by a new wave of emotion- for an entirely different reason this time. "You came."

"I'll always come. Even if the world was ending, I'll... I'll come to you," he smiles, biting his lower lip to stop his own tears from falling.

"It'd be useless if you came then. There would be nothing for us to do," you manage to say through shaky breaths.

"But I'd be with you," he insists, gaze unwavering, "It will be scary for you. I imagine it will be loud, the world can't end silently."

"Mine did, when you left." Felix's eyes go wide at your words, and you don't care that you are baring your soul entirely to him. "Please don't leave me again. I hate goodbyes with you."

"Why would we ever say goodbye again, hm?" he reassures, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly. "I'm never leaving you, as long as you'll have me, I'm here," he whispers, before pulling you into his chest.

Your hands find his back, and his cheek rests on top of your head. And you both close your eyes, an exhale of relief leaving you both at the same time. The world grows dark around the two of you, the only thing you saw was his heart and the overflowing love he still bore for you.

You felt as if you were wandering blind and you could finally see again, as if the string tying you to him wrapped tightly around the both of you, trapping you in his warm embrace.

You don't know what will happen next, but he's holding you now, and he'll hold you when the world is ending, and that is enough.

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ellieslittlewh0re · 9 months

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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 1 - part 2 - part 3

pairing - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - ellie gives in

additional tags - breeding kink, oral (reader receiving), strap on usage (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), use of words cock/dick, pet names (baby, doll, sweet/pretty girl, miss/ma’am), praise/humiliation, dom/munch ellie, sub reader

───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

It had been almost 2 weeks since that last interaction with Ellie. Your dad came home earlier than you expected and almost caught Ellie's lips so close to yours.

Luckily, he didn't and your secret is safe- at least for now.

Ellie, on the other hand, has been avoiding you since. She comes, she works, and won't even step foot inside the house if she could avoid it.

You tried your best to coax her in small ways- wearing the littlest articles of linen you owned, brushing against her body when you went out and offered her a drink, but she wouldn't bite.

You were growing frustrated to say the least, and you tried to relieve the ache every night, but your fingers weren't enough.

You needed her.

Ellie had just came inside the house to grab a hammer that your dad had left on the dinning table, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. She thought she was safe, but she would be wrong.

"Hi Ellie." You sing your siren song, making your presence known to her from around the corner.

"Shit- I-." She stutters, almost dropping the heavy tool from her hands that were slipping from her fingers because she was so fucking nervous.

You made her nervous.

"Why are you avoidin' me? Did I do something wrong?" Your fingers interlock behind your back as you walk towards her, making Ellie sweat more with each step you took.

"N-no, not avoiding- I just-"

"Just what, Ellie? Hm? You're hurtin' my feelings." You play hurt, batting your eyelashes as you take one last step to close the space between you two, your fingers playing with the buttons on her top.

"M' not doing it to hurt your feelings, doll-"

Your hand comes up, ghosting her cheek as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear which makes Ellie freeze up- short circuiting her brain.

"I just-" she moves her head away from your touch, grabbing your hand in hers.

"I meant what I said.. I don't want you to regret it."

You couldn't help but chuckle- finding it amusing that Ellie had no idea how you touched yourself every night to thoughts of her.

You shake your head, your pointer finger looping around the hoop of her waistband, pulling her that much closer to you.

"Won't regret it- I need you, Els.. need you bad." You almost whisper, luring her closer with just your words alone.

Ellie's jaw opened slightly, feeling the quickened breath of her aroused state against your lips, and her eyes darkening, looking at your face and then narrowing in on your lips, repeating until she finally gave in.

She tossed the hammer aside, letting hit the table with a loud thud, grabbing your face with her hands as she chased your lips- tasting you like it was her fucking job.

Ellie wanted to be be gentle with you- give it to you how you deserved- soft and sweet, but she wasn't thinking about that right now.

She wanted to fucking ruin you- leave you shaking and crying. She wanted to hear your begs and pleads for her to stop, but she wouldn't.

She wanted to fuck you, over and over again, and punish you for how fucking hard you teased her.

You whimper into her mouth, letting her take control since you were already weak in the knees, feeling her tongue assert dominance against the muscle.

She pulls away, slightly out of breath as she looked at your pathetic state- bracing yourself against the table, lips reddened and puffy- your expression full of need.

"You're fucking killing me, doll." She wipes the corner of her bottom lip with her thumb, her chest heaving with adrenaline, ready to pounce at any second, but she doesn't.

"Stay the night." You asked, but it didn't come off as a question- more of a demand.

"You know I can't do that-"

"I'll come to you then."

Ellie furrows her brows slightly, mentally weighing out the consequences of her actions.

"What about your dad?"

"I'll wait till' he's asleep- take his truck, he won't know I'm gone."

A chuckle echoed in her throat- in a way that felt like she was mocking you- possibly because you were not this sweet angel that you portrayed yourself to be, and she was getting to know the real you.

Her arm reaches around you on the table, grabbing the hammer with her chest bumping against yours.

"See you tonight, doll."

You tried your best to act normal all day, and so did Ellie. Both you minimized the conversations around your dad, not even daring to look each other for too long because of the plans you two made for tonight.

You were nervous, excited, but mostly nervous- even though this was your own damn fault. You were all tough and big when it was you calling the shots, but you had a feeling that was going to change as soon as you are standing outside her doorstep.

The sun was setting, and Ellie was saying her goodbyes as she walked down the driveway to her truck. You pretend to shrug off her departure, but not before slipping the little piece of paper with her address scribbled on it into your pocket that she had left wedged between the slates of the porch swing.

"Goodnight, hon." Your father places a kiss to the top of your head before walking down the hall into the master bedroom , shutting the door behind him.

You waited a good hour- making sure your father was in a deep sleep before taking his keys from the glass bowl on the table next to the entrance and slowly opening the front door, suppressing any noise to the best of your abilities as you stepped out into the moonlit night.

The drive there felt short- too short. It didn't feel like it was enough time to realize what you were doing, but it was too late- currently standing outside of Ellie's house- a small, classic cottage style one-story home- modest, but it had its appeal. The landscaping was bare- unkempt at best, but at least the lawn was mowed.

"Okay-" With one hand at your side- the other knocked softly against the wooden door, tapping your knuckle twice. You straighten your posture, pushing out your chest in your best attempt to make it seem you weren't as nervous as you were. It's not like it was your first time sneaking out, but it was your first time sneaking out to see someone like Ellie and to do the things you had planned to do.

The door creaked upon opening, revealing a slightly surprised Ellie, towel drying her damp hair.

"I didn't think you'd come." She smirked, her cheeks already bright pink as soon as she saw you standing there in your short- borderline lingerie nightgown.

"Why wouldn't I?" You asked rhetorically, tone dripping with suggest as you stepped past her and into the home.

You kick off your shoes by the front door, walking around and looking at all the details. You're were genuinely curious about how Ellie lived.

Even though you see her everyday- she was still quite the mystery to you.

The home was simple and cozy- the same way your grandparents' house would feel; worn leather couches and wooden furniture. A vase with withered flowers sat in the middle of the dining table. Ellie had picked them from a field on her way to your house- thinking she would give them to you, but she never mustered up the courage- so instead- here they were; peddles of faded purples and yellows, dried and crunchy by now, but Ellie couldn't get herself to throw them away yet.

"Can I get you anythin', water?" She asked, sounding obviously nervous. You just had to get that Ellie back- the one who's presence demanded to be obeyed.

You direct your attention away from the flowers, your nail grazing against the grain of the oak table as you turn away from it and step towards her.

"No, I'm okay-" you shake your head, declining the offer gently as your hands held one of hers between you two.

"I've never done this before, miss- m'sorry if I'm not any good."

God, you cranked the notch up on your southern accent- making your words definitely sound like it's straight out of a porno, but it was working on her.

Ellie breath hitched, her body freezing up as your fingers played with the hem of her black wifebeater tank top.

"I'll go easy on you- promise." Ellie said with the best intentions in mind, but it's a promise she doesn't know she could keep.

Your stomach tightened, feeling her warmth radiating into you, and her scent filling your senses- not feeling her touch was starting to physically hurt.

You stood on your tippy toes, your lips lining up to her ear, "take me to the bedroom."

You didn't have to ask twice either- Ellie quickly taking your hand in hers, dragging you down the hall to the last door on the left.

Ellie practically pushed you into the room, kicking some clothes under the bed that she had lazily left on the floor all the while shutting the door- just in case someone would interrupt even though she lived alone.

You take a seat at the end of her bed, propping your legs up on your toes as you let your knees drift apart, and it doesn't take Ellie's eyes long to land on your pink cotton panties- hugging the shape of your puffy lips.

"Fuck-" She huffed- almost to herself like she was in complete denial that such a beautiful girl was in her house, or even her room for that matter- wearing such little and with all the intent to get fucked by her... it was a scenario straight out Ellie's wet dreams.

Ellie fell to her knees before you, her hands resting on yours, and her lips tempting the skin of your thighs.

"Are you sure bout' this, doll?" She breathed heavily. Just from her proximity from your pretty pussy alone- she felt like she was losing control, staying further and further away from her promise to go easy on you, but you didn't care.

"Y-yes ma'am, m'sure." You mew, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as your cunt drips, feeling her breath through the thin fabric.

"Lay back fr' me, darlin'." She demands gently, sense of urgency in her tone that she was failing to mask.

You do as your told like the good girl you are- laying back on the bed, propping your legs up, and bending then at the knee.

Ellie almost whimpers as your knees fall to the side- practically salivating just from the thought of your taste.

"M' gonna touch you now, okay?"

"Mm-hm." You nod from your horizontal position, giving her full permission and allowing yourself to be completely at her mercy.

She simply stands, using her thumb to rub over the cotton clothed bud- her eyes paying close attention to how you squirm from so little.

She was teasing you, testing you, wanting to see how badly you needed her.

Soft, high pitched whines slip off your tongue as her thumb rubs tight circles over your clit. It was cruel honestly, how little she was giving you, but if you kept making those fucking noises- it wouldn't take long for Ellie to break.

You pushed your hips up against her touch.

"E-ellie, please.. it's not enough- need more."

Ellie sucks the air through her teeth before biting down on her bottom lip, her thumb lightly grazing the now soaked patch of your panties.

She lowered herself at the end of the bed, her hands wrapping around to the under side of your ass, tugging you closer to the edge.

She kissed the skin between your thighs, suckling at it to the point it stung, but it felt good- almost too good knowing it was Ellie that was doing it.

"I'm gonna take these off now." Her fingers gently tug at the hem of your panties, watching your face closely to ensure you were okay with her actions.

You nodded eagerly, lifting your ass from the mattress to help.

Shivers were sent down your limbs as your wet lips were exposed to the cool air of the room. Ellie huffed guttural curses, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head like she was on some sort of high. She kissed closer and closer to your heat- hunger taking over at this point, and eager for a taste.

"Fuck- so pretty.. knew it would be pretty." She talked to herself, sounding slightly deranged and out of it before she flat lined her tongue over your folds.

A high pitched squeal echoed through the room, not expecting the sensation nor have you ever felt anything like this. It was warm, slippery and you felt instantly addicted.

She took her time, licking slow before speeding up the pace on your clit. You twisted and contorted under her touch, but Ellie was quick to hold you down- trapping you with her firm grip.

She lapped up your juices, not letting any of it go to waste if she could help it. She alternated between flicking your clit, sucking on swollen bud and letting plop back into place, and just simply tasting you.

Her tongue stiffened- sinking into the depths of your gummy walls before replacing her tongue with a finger.

You cry/breath out a sign of relief as her long finger sank into you, reaching a spot her tongue couldn't- pulling it out and pushing it back in, repeating the motion before adding a second finger.

"You're so tight, baby- need you to relax." She coaxes, trying her best to sound calm, knowing she was everything but calm.

She couldn't wait to pound into you- leave you breathless and fully screaming her name.

Your walls relax around her fingers, your dress bunching around your hips, and the straps falling off your shoulders- you looked like a painting to her- meticulously and carefully designed, perfectly imperfect- every flaw coming together in the most beautiful symphony.

"Thats it- atta girl, you're doing so good for me." She praised although her tone was rough- coarse like dirt as she was slowly falling apart from the sounds of you- soft, breathy moans- sweet and angelic mixed with the wet, sloppy sounds of her fingers picking up pace inside your cunt.

Your fists clutch the sheets beside your head, squeezing the fabric between your fingers to remind yourself that this was real- not a dream or fantasy.

"F-feels- weird... mm-fhm- feels weird, Ellie." You babbled, a tear threatening to spill from the corner of your eye as you pressed a hand on your lower stomach.

She lowers herself over you to be face to face, her fingers never faltering in pace against your cervix. She soothes, "shh- it's okay, pretty girl. I got you." She kissed the saltwater mixture away from your eye before ghosting her lips over yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to connect them.

Her lips upturn into a sinister smirk, watching you get so fucking needy for her touch, not giving in right away to your pleas of "p-please, miss- mmhm, wanna kiss- I wanna kiss you." Just then, she quickened the pace, her wrist slamming against your clit as she pistoned into you- slamming her lips against yours to soften your cries.

She breaks away, heavy panting fanning over your chaffed, swollen lips, "fuck- baby, I can feel you pulling me in- be a good girl and cum on my fingers, yeah?"

That pushed you over the edge- the corners of your vision turning white, your stomach tightening and flexing as you squeeze around her fingers. You come undone, her pace remained steady as she fucked you through your orgasm, with you clasping into her with your nails digging into the exposed skin of her shoulders. You sing her name, over and over, head dizzy and limbs feeling weak as she slowly removes her fingers.

You laid there- weak and still coming down from your high, but this was just a warm up- she was simply prepping you for what's next.

You closed your eyes, forearm thrown over your face, blissfully unaware what Ellie was doing- she was digging through the drawer of her nightstand, taking off her sweat pants and replacing them with a black harness- a silicone cock standing between her thighs.

She sits on the bed, her back resting against at the headboard as she signals for you- tapping her thigh twice, "c'mere, we're not done yet." Her tone has shifted- the once gentle, loving pitch now felt demanding- almost like it was threat and not a suggestion.

You turn over into your stomach, weakly crawling over to her on the bed and straddled her hips, the length of her strap resting against your stomach.

"Ellie, I don't know how-"

"It's alright,- " her hands held you by your hips with her thumbs soothing over the skin, "I'll teach you."

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, a worried furrow in your brow that Ellie picked up on, "jus' sit on it, doll. I'll help with the rest."

You prop yourself up, using her shoulders for balance as you line the tip with your entrance, Ellie mumbled a breathy "that's it- there you go, pretty girl, just like that."

A whimper vibrated your throat as you sunk yourself onto her cock- just the tip at first as she coaxes you to keep going. It burned, and for a second you thought she was tearing you open, but the more she praised- mixed with the feeling of her hands over your breasts and neck- the pain started to lessen, and was replaced with pleasure.

Her hands gripped the fat of your ass, squeezing it between her fingers as you let yourself get accustomed to the pressure.

"Such a good girl, taking it all in- are you sure it's your first time?"

You nod, your eyes shooting open to meet hers- dark and transfixed on your face.

She chucked lowly, her hands slipping under your nightgown- cupping your breasts. You moaned- feeling her calloused fingers playing with your hardened peaks, twirling the bud and pulling it back- making you wince.

"I wanna see you- can I?" She asked, already pulling the dress over your shoulders- leaving you completely bare.

"Fuuck- such a pretty little thing." She leaned forward, sucking the delicate skin around your nipples- kissing and licking, leaving a trail of her spit wherever she went.

She sucked your nipple, letting it plop back from her pretty pink lips.

"El-ellie- please.." you pleaded- desperate for ache to go away that was quickly building inside your tummy.

"So needy- you want to be fucked that badly, huh? Move your hips then, baby." She spoke condescendingly, sitting back against the bed frame like she was as relaxed as ever, but that couldn't be more wrong.

She was losing it quite frankly- she was growing impatient and wanted nothing more to have her way with you, but she was letting you get use to it for your own sake.

Her hands guided you by your hips, gently directing you back and forth, up and down and so on- no rhythm in mind- no, she wanted you to be close, but never getting there.

She wanted to hear you cry out for her help, and it didn't take long.

Your legs were shaking, hips were starting to ache from the compromising position. You were weak on top of her, resting your head on her shoulder and you needed her help- being too fucking dumb to do it yourself- so, you give in.

"Mm-pl-please, ellie.. can't do it."

Her hand wrapped around your head and interlocks your hair between her fingers before yanking your head back, forcing you to look at her.

"Need my help, huh? Can't do it yourself, doll?"

You shake your head, indicating a 'no' to the best of your abilities, but her grip was tight.

"Poor thing-" She spoke coldly, a smirk on her lips and a killer look in her eyes. She was preying on you- waiting 2 painfully long weeks for this exact moment, and it was finally here.

Her hands gripped the underside of your ass as she leaned forward, pushing you on your back and with her on top.

"Been waitin' for this, you know? Always wondered what you'd look like on your back all ready fr' me, fuck- you're unbelievable." Her chest heaved as she spoke, her voice deepening into an almost growl.

"M-me too- been wanting this since I've met you."

"Yeah?"

"Yea-" your voice cuts into a yelp as she thrusted into you, the length of her cock fully disappearing inside your pussy.

She kissed the inside of your knee that was draped over her shoulder like it was the last gentle gesture she would give you for the night.

Tears quickly gathered at the corners of your eyes, trialing down your cheeks and neck as she snapped her hips forward, pounding against your sweet spot every fucking time.

After the first few minutes, you were already gone- head dumb and toes curling, nails digging crescent shapes into her forearms and biceps.

Ellie was becoming more vocal- not as much as you, but she moaned and grunted- the base of the strap hitting against her clit just right. She was chasing her own high- fully getting off to your sounds, and how your slick coated the length of her cock.

Her hand came down, pressing and hand over the bulge in your tummy, "you feel that? - mhm, fuck.. I'm so deep inside you- gonna get you pregnant.. make you my little wife."

❥ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @tfuuka @mattm1964 @tlouadditc @bugaboodarling @robinismywifee @omgidksblog @bf4iy4z @ellieswifee @endureher @asteroidzzzn @machetegirl109 @thatgiraffefromtlou @locaforellie @bellaramseysgirlfriend @wannabwanted @iconsoft @pick-me-up-im-scared @elliesmainhoe @feelsoseencantdream @okayyesbutno @elsbouquet @lastofvenus @aouiaa @p1llowthoughtss @333stvrlightt @urmomishotyes @333stvrlightt

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dilatorywriting · 9 months

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick.

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It��s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Mermay #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 2

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angelltheninth · 2 months

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Swimming in Romance

Pairing: Male!Merman x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, swimming lessons, thalassophobia, kissing, siren songs

Word count: 1k

Ao3

A/N: In my effort to beat thalassophobia I played a lot of underwater games. Didn't help any, but I had fun every time. Except all those times I got jumpscared by Leviathans in Subnautica.

With every step you took your anxiety got the better of you, wrapping around your throat in a chokehold. Your body shook when you looked at the vastness of the ocean, just imagining it's depths was enough to freeze you in place. Not to mention the animals, the creatures of the deep. Just a bit ago all you imagined were fish and plants, now you knew that so much more lay hidden down there. Creatures that you only saw in movies or in books, creatures you always thought were just a myth.

If your own boyfriend wasn't a merman you would still think it was all just stories. From the waist up he was a handsome man, with dirty blonde, almost sandy hair color and the deepest green eyes. But from the waist down he had a strong green merman tail.

Speaking of your boyfriend, he should be here any moment now. You caught the briefest sight of his upper fin as you approached the shore.

"You're on time." His voice was muffled by the waves as his eyes peaked over the surface.

Of course he was never late. Just out of sight. How could be late when he could swim faster and better than any professional swimmer? As he lifted his head out of the water he showed the rows of shiny sharp teeth that you used to be so afraid of before. He assured you he only used them for self-defense and food. Sometimes the thing that he defended from became food.

"I had to leave early to work up the nerve." You replied truthfully. Today wasn't just a simple date, today he wouldn't be meeting you on the sandy shores and sharing stories of the deep. Today he would teach you how to swim.

"And how much time was spent on that outfit?" He grinned sheepishly as he cast an appreciative look up and down your body. The members of his species don't wear things so colorful. Your swimsuits always drew his attention. Which you couldn't say was a bad thing.

You rolled your eyes, face flushing hot, "Not as long as you'd think. I was more worried about the actual swimming part then how hot you'd find me."

"I always find you hot. Now step closer angelfish, join me." He held his hand out to you, his webbed fingers always a source of comfort and security. Maybe it was odd to think that way, but you could never see him as dangerous, despite the many deadly things about him. One of them being his pretty voice and smile. His greatest weapons. "That's it. Come here, nice and slow, nice and easy." Before you noticed it you were hips deep in the water.

"Did you use your hot voice to get me in here?" You quirked an eyebrow at him and watched his tail quickly tap against the surface.

He didn't respond right away, only pushed himself a tiny bit deeper, just a bit more, all the while holding your hand. Your breath was shaking as was your body. "I'm here dearest, I'm not letting you drift away." He whispered above the crashing waives. "Let your body float on the surface, I'll be right next to you." His hands drifted below your stomach, holding you from below as your body tensed.

You wouldn't drown. He wouldn't let it happen. But it wasn't that you didn't trust him. You did. You didn't trust the ocean.

"If you let me go I'm dragging you out of here myself." You looked to your side where your boyfriend's face was, again half underwater and blowing bubbles. It was almost possible to forget you were at the sea. Then you looked ahead and saw the vast, open ocean. "Nope!" Quickly you felt your feet sink into the sandy floor. As your boyfriend swam in a circle to meet your eyes again you turned from him. "I'm sorry. Maybe... if I looked at the shore instead?" You felt his hands on your hips, gently rubbing them.

One hand traveled up your back and pressed, easing you back into the water while his tail pressed under you, keeping you afloat as he shifted to be in front of you. "Alright. Look at me. Look at the shore. Forget what's behind you." His fingers traced your cheek, "You're in my home. I would never allow anything to happen to you here." He smiled, "Now, kick your feet on the surface."

You gulped but did as he asked, feeling and hearing the water splashing behind you. Just a few quick kicks, then he motioned you to move your arms, taking long, broad strokes into the water. You tried to keep your eyes on him and not on your hands as they pierced the surface of the water.

He kept quiet for a long time, only humming and nodding when he'd feel you tense. The pressure of his tail under you never vanished, it was your anchor. You relaxed more and more, eventually starting to push him backwards.

"You're doing it!" In his excitement he hugged you a bit too suddenly.

Once again your body tensed but your head never went under water. Instead you were met with the cold feeling of his lips against yours. It took you a few seconds to relax and return the kiss, water still not being the most comfortable place for you. But you felt yourself being pulled on top of him, your chest pressing against his, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss. The only point you gasped was when you felt his fingers playing with the strings of your swimsuit.

"I knew you only got me in here for your own selfish needs." You teased as you playfully pushed him away, getting a sharp and toothy grin in return. "Keep your fishy hands to yourself, mister."

"You didn't hate my fishy hands when they held your legs open." And just like that your body fully tensed on top of his, making you both splash awkwardly until you got back to the shore. "You did well for your first lesson. I'll make a swimmer out of you yet." He promised wholeheartedly as he pulled you into a kiss just like the first time, except this time you didn't stop his hands at all.

#monster x reader #merman x reader #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster smut #monster x human #monster x girl #monster x you #terato #monster fanfic #merman fanfic #merman imagine

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oftidheard · 5 months

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hmmm an idea could be a coryo x reader where he’s readers mentor (just like he was with lucy gray) and he gradually loses his shit cuz he’s worried for reader lmaoo

i really enjoyed writing this and exploring the differences in how coryo sees the reader and really just anything/anyone else ♡ general warning for him being typically nasty + references to death

❄ where i told you to run ㅤ⠀coriolanus snow x reader ㅤ⠀↳ 1.3k ↳ angst ↳ gender neutral

coriolanus is sat in one of the chairs provided for the mentors in front of the array of screens, displaying tribute's statuses alongside the hunger games broadcast, and he's convinced the seats were specifically designed to be as uncomfortable as possible.

it doesn't help that whenever the screen shows you, you appear to be dedicatedly searching the underground tunnels, without a single weapon in hand and not even bothering to look behind you once in a while in case someone might be following you; you're practically asking to be hunted down and killed.

he leans forward slightly as once again your image flashes on screen now showing you jogging through the tunnels, and grits his teeth. up until now, his emotionless façade has remained unwavering, appearing to anyone else in the room as though he's perfectly apathetic about your recklessness. but truly, he is anything but.

he remembers the night he saw you before the games, when he'd reiterated that as soon as the bell rung that you were to run as far away from any other tribute as you could, and to hide until absolutely necessary.

you'd commented a crisp, "wouldn't that make for boring television?" meant almost as a jest, but which had made coriolanus rethink everything he was doing for a moment. he didn't voice the realisation that he now found himself valuing your survival more than entertaining the capitol, but instead remained steadfast in repeating the instructions; making you swear to listen.

you'd hummed a — retrospectively noncommittal — "mhm," and whether it was tiredness overcoming him drawing him to not read to much into it, or the way you'd smiled saccharinely and reached through the bars for his hand in a moment that made him forget what he'd even come there for in the first place; he hadn't pushed beyond that, and instead indulged in your playful smile.

now, bitterly, he realises he should have been horribly annoying about reminding you what you needed to do to survive, if only for the possibility that you'd actually have listened.

one hand grips the table in front of him as he watches you barely trying to conceal your thundering footsteps in favour of speed, and turn corners without even stopping to check around the corner first.

unlike your own heavy breaths that just loudly contribute to the siren song bound to draw tributes far stronger than you right to you, coriolanus's breaths are stiff; not unlike the rest of his body as amongst the frustration and worry he frailly tries to remain at the very least outwardly calm.

his composition shatters, however, when out of all the things a tribute trapped in a death arena could possibly do; you start whistling.

the broadcast focuses on you again — your sudden performance the only remotely entertaining thing to happen since coral's pack gave up on lucy gray and jessup — and the room erupts in whispers as everyone watches you slow down to a walk once more.

coriolanus's reaction is less restrained, and the moment the first note of an eerily familiar song leaves your lips, he's pushing up from his seat and staring ice cold at the screen.

his thoughts are frozen in place, all stuck on one word; stop. you need to stop whistling right now, you need to turn and run back to where you'd been hiding earlier, and selfishly, coriolanus needs you to do all of this so you can survive.

even as you continue your song echoing through the tunnels, he forces himself to untense and keep up the illusion that he's perfectly okay with this — as well as playing along with everyone else, who seem marginally unimpressed by whatever it is you seem to be doing.

it only dawns on him when he's stepped back from the small table and readjusted himself with neat composure and tall posture, that he knows where he's heard this song before — and it takes everything in him to not scream his anger at the mentor of the little district eight girl.

you'd hummed the tune over and over again when you and the rest of the tributes had been locked in that cage, when wovey — coriolanus strains to remember the name of such an inconsequential little girl — had been sat near you. you'd noticed her fear, and though the two of you weren't district partners nor had likely ever spoken before, you beckoned the frightened girl to sit with you.

before one of coriolanus's visits, as he'd been approaching the dilapidated zoo, he'd heard your vocalising of the simple tune floating through the humid air, and neared the bars to find the sight of you hugging wovey close with a kind smile, as she joined in humming the tune with you.

it had been a conflicting moment for him, as he'd watch you good-naturedly comfort a girl who'd soon be your enemy, he'd found he couldn't look away from the captivating upturn of your lips and tender twinkle in your eyes. but wholeheartedly, he despised your friendliness with a fellow tribute, especially such a weak one, who could never be a worthwhile ally.

but you'd returned to comforting her after coriolanus left, and you'd told him you'd been humming all day and would do it 'till your voice was rough if it meant the girl's final moments were warm ones. he was drawn to the softness of your voice, but didn't hide that he was unimpressed with the empty compassion.

now, he turns his head to hilarius heavensbee — wovey's mentor — as if the boy would have half the mind to recognise the link between your whistled search and his own tribute. but he glares at his classmate across the room nonetheless, as if if he were to glower in the boy's direction for long enough, it might fix coriolanus's mountain of problems.

the blonde turns back to the large screen again when your search for wovey — coriolanus still scowls at the notion — has yet to prove fruitful, and you resort to whisper-shouting her name.

now, hilarius turns to coriolanus with confusion at his classmate's tribute calling his own tribute's name, but the latter simply ignores hilarius in favour of glaring at your figure still searching for the lost cause of a girl.

he wishes, now more than ever, that he could contact you in the arena, that he could tell you to be quiet and for goodness's sake stay alive. but all he can do is watch helplessly as your determination only grows stronger the longer it takes for you to find the girl you swore to yourself you'd protect.

the thought occurs to coriolanus at noticing your ever-furrowing brows that you might start to think wovey is dead, and give up. he prays you do, and hopes the girl actually dies for good; to cease being a burden on you.

but nothing in these games ever seem to go coriolanus's way, it seems, because when you turn your next corner, an echo snakes up from behind you, and brings a dissonant but undeniably similar call of the very same song you'd been calling out with.

waves of relief accompanied with vexation wash over him just as your own features brighten. he's relieved you will finally quieten down for your own safety, but is by no means thrilled for the extra weight that will now be dragging you down with another life in your hands.

coriolanus is about to ease back into his stiff chair now that you've run to near wovey's call and have stopped whistling in search, when the screens flash to another camera view.

the broadcast now displays coral, tanner, and mizzen waiting just around a corner you're bound to turn any moment now, as tanner mimics the tune of your song with his own deceptive whistling.

coriolanus pales and grows lightheaded in realisation; that you're walking right into a trap, and he cannot do a thing to help you.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x y/n #thg x reader #❤︎ — the mockingjay sings

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Text

ignorance is bliss II l.williamson x reader

nah she's so fit i could actually die

ignorance is bliss II l.williamson x reader 2.9K words

"-can't wait to watch you spew doing laps tomorrow foordy!" you teased your australian teammate, the poor girl losing nearly every drinking game played had meant she was far from sober as she rolled her eyes and shoved you out the front door.

"oi! watch it skippy." your girlfriend scowled, hugging you protectively from behind and wagging a finger toward caitlin who mocked her sarcastically with a slur and flipped you both off before closing the door with a slam.

avidly waving goodbye to the rest of the girls you heard leah gently remind you of the time as she grabbed your hand and lead you down the street to where her own car was parked. the blonde couldn't help but let a soft smile grow on her face as you swung your intertwined hands back and forth, chatting away to her as she merely hummed in response.

"such a gentlewoman." you grinned, your girlfriend always making sure to open the door for you, bowing goofily as you playfully shoved her head and slid into the car, clicking your belt in as leah closed your door and jogged around to the drivers side.

as she pulled away from the curb your hand rested on her leg, other one scrolling through your phone and smiling as beth sent you a dump of photos from the team bonding night you'd just attended, leah in her own world singing along quietly to the radio.

"baby you're speeding again." you glanced up and rolled your eyes noticing the blonde was doing 80 in a 60, clearly in an unnecessary rush to get back to your shared home. "its nearly eleven there's hardly anyone round, it's fine." leah shrugged it off as you sighed loudly, wordlessly letting her know you weren't impressed.

"you've only got two points left on your license! can you just slow down leah, please?" you took your hand off her leg and gave her a firm stare, the blonde purposefully not replying and instead continuing to sing along to the radio, though this time a little louder to try and ease the growing tension between the two of you.

you were doing well at ignoring your girlfriend until her hand squeezed at your upper thigh, the defender turning her head slightly and beginning to serenade you, rotating between squeezing your leg and poking at your cheek as she did.

you took your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stifle the smile which so badly wanted to spread across your face at her silly antics, but with leah belting out the last line of the song at the top of her lungs and wiggling in her seat you couldn't help but to let out a laugh and shake your head at her.

"made you laugh, loser." leah teased with a wink, holding her hand out expectantly over the middle console as you intertwined your fingers, but as you leant in to press a kiss to her cheek the flash of red and blue sirens behind you had the both of you recoiling in shock.

"oh fuck." leah mumbled under her breath, wincing as she quickly pulled over. "i told you! dick." you spat at her as leah gave you a firm warning look to be quiet and rolled down her window, smiling at the officer who wasted no time asking for her license.

"fuck!" leah swore again, punching her steering wheel angrily as the man walked off to do the checks needed. "right. i can get us out of this but i need you to stay quiet unless he asks you something and to trust me." you ordered firmly as you unzipped your jacket a little, leah giving you a strange look and opening her mouth but you waved her off as the officer returned.

"are you aware of why you've been stopped tonight?" he asked leah with a raised eyebrow, her license still in hand, and you were relieved to see he couldn't have been much older than thirty or so if that as you leant in a little closer to the window, purposefully exposing your plunging neckline just slightly.

"we were just out for a late night drive sir, were we singing too loudly?" you pouted with a flirty smile, leah tensing beside you as the officer chuckled. "no your friend here was doing twenty over the legal limit, is there a reason we were in such a rush girls?" he asked, directing the question more toward you than leah.

"girlfr-" leah began to correct as you harshly pinched her leg and she hissed, shooting you a glare. "were we? oh god that's so embarrassing, we were just so into the music." you feigned innocence, burying your face in your hands with a groan, leah not missing the mans eyes drop down toward your chest as her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

"well mistakes happen, but that's also how accidents happen." the man warned and you nodded enthusiastically. "oh trust me we completely respect road safety sir. we might have just been in a slight rush because my friend has training tomorrow morning, she plays football for arsenal." you smiled charmingly, silently praying he was a local and your gamble paid off as he glanced toward leah, a brief look of surprise crossing his face before it once again turned placid.

"mm, good for her. wait here a second!" he ordered and with a nod disappeared back to his own car. "what the fuck was that?" your girlfriend seethed, rounding on you with a scowl as she leant in and quickly zipped your jacket back up.

"that was me trying to save you from losing your license, because you didn't listen to me when i told you to stop speeding!" you whispered angrily, smacking at her shoulder with a cross frown.

but before the blonde could utter another word the officer had returned. "this is an infringement notice for speeding, it's a $311 fine. but i'm not going to register it as a proper offence so you won't lose any points or your license, but if i catch you speeding again i'll have this-" he paused to tap the top of leahs rather expensive car, only worsening her mood.

"-impounded and your license gone. understand?" he now directed his words towards leah who nodded and mumbled a thank you. "you girls get home safe now." he then smiled charmingly toward you, leah gripping the steering wheel even tighter before the man finally left, the police car pulling away and peeling off around a corner.

you readied yourself for your earlier argument to recommence but to your surprise leah simply tucked the fine away and turned the engine back on, carefully pulling away from the curb and continuing the drive back, refusing to even look at you.

"what time do we have to be at training tomorrow?" you asked, hoping a simple question might be the best way to break the thick silence which built up, almost suffocating. "leah?" you questioned, watching the blondes jaw tense but she still remained silent.

"are you seriously giving me the silent treatment right now?" you asked in disbelief, folding your arms over your chest and twisting your body to look directly at the blonde, who felt your eyes piercing into the side of her head but still, not a word.

"if i hadn't done that you'd not be driving home right now leah or for the next however many months, think about that!" you continued seriously, your irritation growing as your girlfriend scoffed quietly but otherwise said nothing.

"and for something as stupid as speeding." you spat, engrossing your attention back into your phone as leah turned the radio up, rolling her shoulders and neck as her sights never left the road in front of her.

the thick tension between the two of you only seemed to worsen throughout the duration of your ride home, and as leah pulled into the garage she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. you felt your stomach clench as the taller girl stormed off inside, making a firm point to slam the door after her.

with a tired exhale you sunk into your seat, tucking your knees into your chest and resting your chin on them. flicking aimlessly through your social medias you decided to give leah some space to hopefully cool off, feeling your own previous irritation begin to melt away as you did.

after around twenty minutes you felt your back starting to stiffen and finally slipped out of the car, closing the garage door where it had been left open and making your way inside. you heard the tv going as you followed the sound to the living room, seeing your girlfriend curled up on the furthest corner of the sofa, of course watching the golf.

"lee?" you called out softly, frowning as once again the english captain ignored you, eyes never even flickering away from the tv screen. "leah. come on baby please can we at least talk about this?" you attempted to sit beside her as the older girl suddenly swung her body around, her legs occupying the once free space instead.

"oh really?" you scoffed in disbelief, moving to stand directly in her eyeline as the girl simply looked through you, refusing to drop her stubborn behavior. "you are so fucking immature leah." you spat with a shake of your head, storming off into the kitchen and taking a seat at the island, head thumping down softly to rest on the cool marble of the counter top.

you let out a long and tired sigh, your eyes strained and begging for sleep as your body craved nothing more than to be curled up in bed with your blonde lover, betraying your mind which wanted nothing else than to slap the stubbornness right off her face.

you glanced up as you heard a noise, seeing leah rummaging through the fridge clearly looking for something. "top shelf at the back, to the left." you sighed, knowing exactly what she was after as the blonde plucked out a chocolate and wordlessly left the kitchen.

"you're welcome." you rolled your eyes and decided to follow her, beyond exhausted and having had just about enough of this by now. "leah, you're being stupid." you stated firmly, snatching the remote and flicking off the tv, the blonde rolling onto her back and looking up at the roof.

"i really don't see why you're so upset with me, if you had just listened and slowed down we wouldn't be in this position in the first place!" you huffed, throwing your hands in the air as once again leah ignored you, staring upward as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing in the world.

but as you looked at her properly, taking into note the way her eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and there was just a slight hint of a pout on her lips, the penny dropped.

"oh my god you're not angry you're jealous!" you laughed, the way your girlfriend was quick to disagree only further proving your point. "leah really!" you shook your head, bounding over toward her and sitting down, your legs straddling hers as you grinned down at the moody blonde.

"get off." your girlfriend muttered quietly, crossing her arms over her chest as you attempted to hold her hand. "you can't seriously be jealous that i flashed a cute smile and played dumb to get you out of losing your license." you smiled in amusement, any previous annoyance completely gone as leah huffed.

"im not jealous." the older girl finally looked at you, propping her body up slightly more with a frown.

"lee, baby. firstly; that police officer was a man! secondly; i did that for you! thirdly; i'm a little preoccupied being head over heels for a certain grumpy blonde defender to even pay anyone else a single thought." you promised with a smile, laying down on top of her.

"come on, stop being stroppy." you teased, poking at her as she smacked away your hands. "you told him we were friends. you said and i quote that your friend plays for arsenal!" your girlfriends face softened, a pout now replacing her once tense frown.

"well there wasn't much point in me flirting with him if he thought we were dating now was there? I also didn’t mention that I too play for arsenal, he could have figured it out and given you the full fine and offence!" you rolled your eyes as leah huffed slightly.

"see you were flirting with him, i know that stupid little unzipping of the jacket trick." the taller girl rolled her eyes and your grin widened. "certainly worked on you didn't it?" you smiled smugly, hands cupping the captains face and gently tracing her jaw with your thumbs.

"you are never again allowed to flirt with anyone that isn't me or katie!" leah warned sternly causing you to let out a laugh. "-and the only reason you're allowed to flirt with mccabe is because i know she's my best friend and wouldn't ever dare to go there, and the two of you only do it to wind up me and rue!" leah rolled her eyes, arms coming to wrap around you, sneaking up the back of your hoodie.

"mm absolutely correct and it works every damn time!" you hummed knowingly, dipping your head and peppering the older girls face everywhere with light kisses, your heart soaring as she laughed.

“see this? what letter is this?” you tugged your necklace out from your collar, holding up the small golden L with a raise of your eyebrow. “an L.” leah mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “correct. and why would I be wearing a necklace with an L?” you questioned again.

“cause you’re a loser?” leah answered seriously and your eyes widened, hands removed from her body and moving to unclasp the chain. “okay okay! for leah.” your girlfriend stopped you, tugging your hands away and kissing your palms sweetly.

“exactly, because i love you. even if you are a frustratingly stubborn woman to deal with sometimes williamson." the words were accompanied with a playful eye roll.

"and i love you, even if you are an absolute handful to deal with pretty much all of the time." the blonde teased, moving a hand to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips with hers.

"you know the best part about arguing with you?" the older girl mumbled into the kiss, and you squealed in surprise as the defender easily flipped your positions, hovering on top of you with a suggestive smirk.

"makeup sex."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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kaisacobra · 3 months

Text

A Step Into the Future - Sam Carpenter

Summary: A cuddly morning with your girlfriend Sam turns into a conversation about your future.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff.

Word Count: 1.8k

You were never particularly religious, but in moments like these, when everything was calm and you were in the arms of the person you loved most in the world, you truly felt like you were in heaven.

Soft snores reaching your ears and a warm, slow breath on your neck had become your favorite alarm clock. It was worth waking up earlier just to have the sight of your girlfriend peacefully sleeping beside you, in one of those rare moments when her expression wasn't burdened with worries and a sense of alertness.

Moving slowly to avoid waking her up, you raised your arm to her sculpted face and brushed some strands of hair aside, wanting to get a complete view of Sam's face. The way the sunlight seeped through a crack in the curtain illuminated Sam perfectly, giving you a breathtaking sight.

Samantha Carpenter was the greatest work of art you had ever seen. A face like a Botticelli painting, a body like a Michelangelo sculpture, a voice like a siren's song, and a heart kept like a precious jewel.

Your thoughts spoke louder, and you allowed yourself to gently slide a finger over the soft skin of the bridge of the woman's nose, finding it adorable when she involuntarily wrinkled her nose in response. You enjoyed being able to take pride in recognizing Sam's subtle signs, having carefully studied her reactions throughout the early stages of your relationship. This allowed you to notice certain things, like the change in the rhythm of her breathing, even if she pretended to still be asleep.

"Darling?" You whispered as softly as you could, just in case you had misread your analysis and your girlfriend was actually asleep.

But soon your theory was proven correct when Sam let out a husky grunt and hugged your torso with both arms, trapping you in a grip that honestly didn't bother you at all. She shifted in bed until she rested her head on your chest, releasing a sigh of contentment when satisfied with the proximity.

You gave a small smile and began playing with her hair without thinking too much. Some time ago, at the beginning of the relationship, you used to wonder if Sam would ever let you get close for real. Now, you knew that no one who knew her would believe you if you said the older Carpenter was like a cuddly kitten that complained if she wasn't touching you at every possible minute.

The peaceful silence was interrupted for a moment by a loud complaint from Sam's stomach, who quickly moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck. "No," she spoke firmly but with a voice laden with playfulness and drowsiness.

"No, what?" You laughed, letting her get more comfortable beside you, even if it meant she was two steps away from being on top of you.

Sam lifted her head just enough for her voice not to be muffled. You couldn't see her face clearly due to the position, but you could identify her still-closed eyes. "You were going to suggest getting up for breakfast. My answer is no."

"But, darling..." You laughed again, amused at how a just-awakened Sam was practically a stubborn child. "You're hungry, aren't you? I can go make a quick breakfast and come back to be with you."

Your girlfriend made a protesting noise and held you tighter in her arms, as if you were planning to escape at any moment. Of course, you weren't going to complain, after all, there was no more perfect place in the world than Sam's arms. She shook her head slightly. "You're forbidden to leave. We'll cook something later, together."

"Forbidden?" You chuckled. "By whom, exactly?"

"By me, your amazing girlfriend."

You laughed a bit more and decided to gently stroke Sam's scalp, feeling the woman slowly soften under your touch again. That had to be one of your greatest achievements—the fact that Sam trusted you so much to allow herself to be vulnerable, even if it didn't come naturally to her anymore.

She shifted a bit more, this time wrapping her legs around yours. "I could do this for the rest of my life, you know?"

Vulnerability and even a hint of embarrassment shone through Sam's voice, and although you couldn't see her face completely, you could see a part of her cheek starting to turn red. Adorable, you would say.

"Hold onto me like a koala?" You teased, feeling her lightly pinch your arm in retaliation. She muttered a curse in Spanish, and the warm breath from her mouth hit a sensitive area of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Sam seemed too sleepy to notice your reactions and tease you back. Instead, she spoke again slowly, as if sharing a huge secret. "No, idiot. This. Waking up with you by my side, every day."

"Oh." You responded with great eloquence, feeling your entire body heat up and butterflies flutter in your stomach as if you were the protagonist of a teenage romance. Sam wasn't one to express love with words much, but when she did, you could barely contain yourself from looking like a smitten fool. "I could do that forever too. Truly become your family."

Your trembling voice betrayed how much you had wanted to have this kind of conversation for a while, even if you were leaving the actual meaning implicit. Still, you knew Sam would understand what you were trying to say.

"You already are family. We don't need to get married for that." She spoke, but soon realizing how her words sounded a bit harsh, she moved back a bit and locked eyes with you, your faces just a few inches apart. "Not that I don't want to get married! I do. Someday. But you don't have to wait until then to feel like part of the family."

Once again, a small party seemed to settle inside you with Sam's words and the sight of her in front of you, her face flushed with shyness and the admission that she envisions a future with you. Taking advantage of the closeness, you cupped her face with one hand. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

You're welcome. The words hung implicitly in the air as she turned her face just enough to kiss the palm of your hand. Sam's brown eyes were still small due to sleepiness, but they already sparkled like the most beautiful jewel you had ever seen. You felt very lucky.

Seizing the opportunity, you decided to delve a bit further into the subject. "Would you like to expand this family with me? In the future, of course."

Sam squirmed a bit, and you knew she was reluctant to think about that answer. You started to gently stroke her jaw with your thumb, trying to calm her and convey the message that you would be okay with whatever answer she gave.

"I kinda already have three kids, you know?" She said with humor, and you opened a smile in response. It was true that Sam was very protective of her sister, Tara, and the two twins, Mindy and Chad. You could see how much she cared for them and how hard she worked to make sure she could provide some of the things they liked.

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" You replied still humorously, and you were ready to let the subject drop there, not wanting to pressure your girlfriend into anything. However, Sam seemed not to have finished her train of thought.

She bit her lip, looking hesitant. "It's just that... I don't have the best history with my parents, as you know. And I don't have the best overall history, damn, I don't even have a degree, and..."

"Hey, hey. One step at a time, okay?" You reassured her, placing a kiss on her forehead that made her release a relieved sigh. "Firstly, you're not like your parents, no matter what you think. Secondly, it's not too late to start college if that's what you want."

"No, it's not possible." Sam shook her head, looking away to your collarbone with some shame. "I have to work to pay for the apartment rent and also support me and Tara. I don't have time for that."

You frowned and held the Carpenter's chin, making her look at you. Even embarrassed, Sam could still be intimidating enough, and her gaze gave you the same feeling of being struck by lightning, as if electricity ran through your veins every time your eyes met. "I could help you if you wanted."

"No. It's not your obli-"

"I'm not being forced to do anything." You cut her off, shaking your head and smiling to show that you were serious. "You know I have a well-paying internship. I could move here, share the bills and a room with you. It would be less burdensome, and you could work just one job and use the rest of the time to study. What do you think?"

Sam seemed to be in an internal battle, looking at you with admiration and trying to fight back the tears that were on the brink of her eyes. She reached out to caress your face. "You don't have to do this."

"I would like to." You reassured her, pulling her closer to envelop her waist in a hug. "Besides, I'd finally get rid of that small dorm and my weird roommate."

Sam scowled, her voice laden with jealousy. "You mean that flirt who's always hitting on you? You know, I'm starting to think it really is a good idea for you to move in, maybe now that bitch will understand that you're taken."

You laughed at Sam's indignation but didn't say anything to disagree. She was right, after all. At the end of the day, you were very well taken, and you were perfectly fine with that. The sunlight streaming into the room through the curtains seemed a bit brighter now, and although you didn't want to burst your bubble of happiness with Sam, you really needed to start preparing for the day ahead.

She seemed to read your mind, as she always did, given the connection between you two, and just nodded in agreement, a sign that she also agreed to get up and shake off the laziness.

In a last moment of calm, Sam approached you and spread small kisses over your chin, cheeks, and forehead, finally stopping at your mouth and kissing you with true love and affection, creating not only a physical connection but also a connection of souls. You embraced the contact, responding to the kiss with the same passion, forgetting about anything else but Sam's lips.

As she pulled away, Sam smiled contentedly. Her hair messy because of the bed, red puffy lips, and eyes with sleep residue didn't prevent you from seeing her as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen on Earth. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too." You whispered back, your voice laden with emotion.

You didn't know what to expect from the future, but one thing was certain. Whatever it was, you would have Sam Carpenter, and Sam Carpenter would have you.

#scream #scream vi #scream 2022 #scream x reader #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x you

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