#but it’s been two days and I can’t stop thinking about it

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAKE HER REGRET IT

A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.

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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago. 

You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child. 

Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles. 

It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor. 

“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks. 

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent. 

Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason. 

You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe. 

When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much. 

The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression. 

“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts. 

Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him. 

“What’s up?”

“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”

Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside. 

“Do tell me.”

Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter. 

“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”

“When will the part where I can help come?”

“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”

You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him. 

“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”

The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much. 

“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing. 

“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”

“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide. 

“Y-You will do it?”

“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell. 

When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever. 

“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”

“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.

“Sorry, yeah come inside.”

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with. 

“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”

“I have.”

“Really?”

“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”

“Then… I trust you with anything.”

“What’s the goal?”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind. 

“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”

“I want to make her regret it.”

“Regret what she said?”

“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises. 

“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly. 

At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation. 

And then the bell rings. 

“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again. 

You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you. 

“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up. 

“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable. 

“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”

Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well. 

“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it. 

“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”

“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”

“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues. 

“That’s none of my business.”

“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”

“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.

Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here. 

“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.

“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”

“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”

It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature. 

“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”

She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her. 

And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts. 

“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.

“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”

“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”

“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything. 

You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost. 

“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move. 

Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily. 

It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. 

It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses. 

And then you remember you’re not alone. 

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it. 

“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.

“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly. 

Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned. 

“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you. 

Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.

“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”

The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his. 

Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like. 

“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast. 

“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door. 

“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”

He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit. 

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars. 

You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before. 

You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone. 

You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is. 

“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining. 

Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time. 

When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing. 

“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”

“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly. 

“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.

“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before. 

“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.

“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now. 

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard. 

There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work. 

“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words. 

“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge. 

Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you. 

“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”

You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair. 

When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble. 

Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”

Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss. 

“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”

“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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[leahwllmsn]

loss of my life

alexia putellas x reader

Alexia never brings you up during her weekly lunches with Mapi. Today is different.

; angst

It’s a harmless question that Alexia knows the answer to. She doesn’t even know what prompts her mouth to ask that question, but she feels like dying inside with every thought of you, so she doesn’t see the harm in doing so.

“y/n?” Mapi asks back. “Well, you know… She’s good, I guess.”

Alexia rolls her eyes at Mapi’s attempt to be vague. “I’m not going to break.”

Mapi looks up at her, her eyes softening. “I know,” she stays quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”

Alexia looks hesitant, but she nods.

“She’s happy,” Mapi states, looking anywhere but her best friend. “She’s seeing someone. Leah. Lucy introduced them.”

Alexia averts her gaze down to her food. She knows this, she sees Leah’s face every time she opens your Instagram–a habit that she should stop doing if she wants to stop the aching in her heart.

“Ale…” Mapi sighs, placing her hand on top of Alexia’s. 

“I’m fine, Mapi,” Alexia tries to act flippant about it, but she has never been good at hiding her emotions. “I’m glad that she’s happy again.”

Mapi purses her lips, looking like she’s about to say something. After a few seconds she does, “She asked about you too, you know.”

“Really?” Alexia hates how her tone sounds, as if she’s been waiting for that to happen.

“In passing once, when we were having dinner at her place,” Mapi takes a deep breath. “Just, how you were and stuff.”

Alexia nods. That’s better than nothing. That means you still remember her somehow.

As if Mapi can read her mind, she says, “She’s not going to forget you, Ale.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“But I know you.” Mapi places her utensils down, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “By the way, this food is so good. We should come here more often. I know Ingrid would love it.”

“I miss her,” when Mapi gives her a look, she corrects herself. “Ingrid. I was talking about Ingrid.”

Mapi looks at Alexia like she doesn’t believe her, but she says nothing. “She misses you too. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it to lunch, she’s been really busy these days.”

“You two are okay… right?” Alexia knows the answer to this too, but she just needs the confirmation.

“We are,” Mapi says, her eyes instantly lighting up. “We’re set to move to the new place next month. You’re coming to the house-warming party right?”

Alexia knows that if she does, she’ll see you. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to see you again, especially now that you have someone new. Seeing her ex-fiancé with her new girlfriend on a phone screen is one thing, seeing it in front of her own eyes is another. Alexia knows Leah is visiting. It was all Keira had been talking about.

Mapi, sensing Alexia’s reluctance, gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to... How about, Ingrid and I will text you when they leave, and you can come then?”

With the amount of gatherings Alexia has missed, she starts to feel bad. She knows her situation with you is placing their mutual friends in an uncomfortable position. So she swallows her heartbreak once more and smiles at her best friend. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll be there.”

“If you’re sure. We can always have our own after-party.”

Alexia shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I need to see the rest, they’ve been bugging to meet me.”

Mapi laughs. “Jana won’t shut up about how you only accept to go for lunch with Ingrid and I.”

“Yeah,” Alexia grimaces. “It’s hard when all of my friends are her friends too. Every time I see them, I just get reminded of her. I need the break. Besides, I’ll see you all when training starts again, so…”

“Do Ingrid and I not remind you of her?” Mapi looks genuinely curious.

“That’s different,” Alexia shrugs. “I’ve known you since forever, you’re my best friend. And Ingrid is Ingrid. I can’t just not see you. Even if you do remind me of her, I just have to suck it up.”

“Fair point.”

“What did you mean earlier, by the way?”

Mapi looks at her questioningly, “What about?”

Alexia stays silent, staring intently at her food. When Mapi is about to ask her one more time, she speaks up, “About her not forgetting me.”

“Oh, you know,” Mapi takes a sip of her drink. “When you two were together, you were always worried that she would forget you, which I still don’t know where that came from. She was crazy about you.”

“I don’t know either.”

That’s a lie. Alexia knows perfectly why she acted the way she did, but she’s never going to tell anyone about it. She knows that you deserve better than her, that she can never give the love that you wanted, and even though she still loves you, she wasn’t going to let you stay unhappy with her. Alexia knows that she wasn’t meant for you, she just needs to start accepting it so she can move on.

When Mapi doesn’t reply, Alexia speaks again, “It’s pathetic isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Me.”

Mapi stares at Alexia in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” “It’s true,” Alexia shrugs. “It’s been a year. She moved on, while I’m still stuck here.”

“People heal at their own time.”

Alexia takes a deep breath. “Maybe I’m not meant to heal. I only gave her pain when we were together, maybe this is my punishment.”

“Stop beating yourself down, Alexia.” Mapi looks sad, and Alexia curses herself for always putting the mood down.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” Alexia tries her best to give Mapi a genuine smile. “I’ll get better. For all of you.”

Mapi leans forward, taking Alexia’s hand in hers. “I want you to get better for yourself.”

Alexia knows that, but she still can’t help but feel that she doesn’t deserve to get better.

“I kissed someone else,” Alexia reminds Mapi. “When my fiancé was waiting for me at home.”

Mapi squeezes her hand even further. “I know you have your reasons. Not that I condone cheating,” Mapi grimaces. “It’s just��� You loved y/n so much, you wouldn’t do anything to ruin your relationship. Something must’ve happened.”

“I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember my excuse anymore.”

Mapi shrugs. “Well, that’s in the past. Like you said, y/n has moved on. It’s fine if you start doing the same, Ale.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Mapi grins at her. “That’s better than nothing.”

Alexia smiles back at her. “Let’s go. You told Ingrid you’re on your way thirty minutes ago, she’s going to wonder where you are.”

And when Mapi laughs, Alexia can’t help but laugh back. “She can wait. I only get to see you once a week, I see her everyday.”

“You’re lucky,” Alexia gives a wistful smile. “Spending the rest of your days with the one you love.”

“You’ll find someone again, Ale.”

Alexia knows her answer, “probably not,” and she’s about to say that when she sees the hopeful look on Mapi’s face. So she puts on her best happy face and answers, “Sure.” 

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

[ghosthunterbuck]

7x10 coda. beware the spoilers

Three months pass, and Eddie still isn’t used to it. It’s too quiet at home, and too awful at work, and he still grabs two bowls every morning even though he’s the only one eating.

He thinks about quitting, again. Leaving behind Captain Asshole and following Christopher to Texas. He knows he can’t. He’d promised. Eddie clenches his fists and forces himself to finish buttoning his uniform.

He sends Christopher a text, the same one he sends every morning, then shuts his phone in his locker.

“Line up in five,” Gerrard bellows from the loft. “If you’re late, you’ll be scrubbing the rig with a toothbrush, no exceptions.”

Eddie stands mechanically and walks over to the bay.

Another day, another goddamn reason to bury himself in blankets and hide until the world ends.

Buck invites him over for dinner most nights, or offers to go home with him. Eddie says no more than he says yes, but Buck… Buck’s always known Eddie better than he knows himself. He doesn’t stop asking.

“C’mon Eddie, it’ll be fun—you, me and Tommy, we can come up with ways to drive Gerrard insane.”

Buck looks at him, soft and imploring, an expression Eddie rarely knows how to refuse. But despite everything that’s happened, Buck’s managed to carve out a small sliver of happiness, and Eddie doesn’t want to drag him down.

“You go ahead,” he says. “I’m picking up half a shift at  the 136 tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”

It’s true and it’s not. He is picking up the shift, but he doubts he’ll sleep.

He goes back to therapy, but he never knows what to say. It was all—everything was in his head, last time. It’s not, now. It’s all real, and it all hurts, and no amount of talking about it makes it hurt any less. He says as much to Frank.

“Then why are you here?” Frank asks.

Eddie looks away. “I don’t know,” he says.

That’s not quite true either.

Kim calls him, and Marisol doesn’t. She leaves voicemail after voicemail, apologizing for that night. Eddie can never bring himself to answer the phone. Eventually, he blocks her number.

He texts his own apology to Marisol, but it never goes through. It’s probably for the best—he doubts the message would’ve made either of them feel better.

Eddie needs—he doesn’t know. Before, he would’ve said time. Now though, he’s got all the time in the world, and he’s desperate to get rid of it.

Buck calls. Eddie can’t answer him, either. He lets it ring out, then listens to the voicemail.

“Hey Eds, it’s me. I uh—just wanted to check in. It’s been a couple days. Call me when you can.”

Eddie tells himself he will, but he has no idea when that’ll be.

Christopher doesn’t text him, but he does text Buck.

Eddie never asks what he says, and Buck usually doesn’t offer to tell him.

“Just—he’s okay, right?”

Buck smiles, a little bit sad, and leans into Eddie’s space. “He’s okay,” he says. “He misses you, even if he’s not ready to tell you that.”

Tears streak down Eddie’s face before he even realizes he’s crying. Buck wipes one away and pulls him against his chest.

“What if he never comes home,” Eddie whispers into the soft material of Buck’s sweater.

“He will,” Buck replies. “He will.”

Good morning, Eddie texts on the one hundred and second day since Christopher left. I love you, and I hope you have a good day.

He drops his phone on the table and tries not to hope for a response. A second later, though, it dings. Eddie’s heart leaps into his throat as he scrambles to open the message.

Morning, Dad.

#i've got feelings and making everyone else's problem #911 spoilers #911 #911fic #911 fic #eddie diaz

[pinkflower2003]

Can you make a blurb for dad!max verstappen where reader always catching him and their newborn baby (boy or girl) cuddling and max playing with them and talking to them he spends all his time with them

a/n: hi sweetheart! thank you for your request, i hope i’ve done it just! 💗

dad!max verstappen x reader (requested)

You had always known Max Verstappen would be a great father, but seeing him with your newborn made your heart swell with even more love and admiration than you ever thought possible. Since the moment you brought your baby girl, Sophia, home from the hospital, Max had been completely smitten. He spent every waking moment with her, and even when he should have been resting, you would often find him sneaking into her nursery to check on her.

One night, you stirred from your sleep, noticing Max’s absence from the bed. You smiled softly, already knowing where he was. Quietly, you slipped out of bed and made your way to the nursery. The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, casting a gentle light over Max and Sophia. Max was seated in the rocking chair, cradling your tiny daughter against his chest. He was speaking to her in a low, soothing voice, his Dutch accent coming through in a melody that seemed to calm her.

“You know, Sophia,” he murmured, “one day, you’re going to be able to watch me race. I’ll teach you everything about cars and speed. But for now, I just want you to be happy and healthy.” He paused to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, a smile playing on his lips. “I promise I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You leaned against the doorframe, your heart swelling at the tender scene before you. Max had always been passionate and driven, but this side of him was something you cherished deeply. The way he looked at Sophia, the way he held her as if she was the most precious thing in the world—it made you fall in love with him all over again.

Max looked up and noticed you standing there. A smile spread across his face as he beckoned you over. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.

You nodded, sitting on the edge of the rocking chair and resting your head on his shoulder. “She really is,” you replied softly. “And you’re an amazing father, Max. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He chuckled quietly. “I’m the lucky one. I never thought I could love someone this much.” He looked down at Sophia, who was now fast asleep in his arms. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things we’ll do together. I want to be there for every moment, every milestone.”

You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Max’s forehead. “And you will be. We’ll do it all together.”

Days turned into weeks, and Max’s bond with Sophia only grew stronger. You often found him in the nursery, playing with her and talking to her as if she could understand every word. One afternoon, you walked into the living room to find Max lying on the floor, his head propped up on one hand as he watched Sophia kick her tiny legs in the air. He was making silly faces and noises, drawing giggles from your baby girl.

“Look who’s here, Sophia!” Max said, glancing up at you with a wide grin. “Mama’s here to join the fun.”

You laughed, sitting down beside them on the floor. “What are you two up to?”

“Just having some quality father-daughter time,” Max replied, his eyes twinkling with joy. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer. “She’s been telling me all about her dreams. Apparently, she dreams of milk and cuddles.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Sounds like she’s living the dream, then.”

Max scooted closer, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his embrace. “We’re all living the dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Having you and Sophia in my life… it’s more than I ever imagined.”

As the months went by, Max’s dedication to his family never wavered. He balanced his racing career with fatherhood seamlessly, making sure he was there for every feeding, every nap, and every bedtime story. You often caught him sneaking into the nursery in the middle of the night, just to check on Sophia and whisper sweet words to her.

One evening, after a long day of racing and media obligations, Max came home exhausted. But the moment he saw Sophia, his tiredness melted away. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close as he swayed gently back and forth.

“Papa missed you so much today,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I thought about you all day, little one. You and Mama are always on my mind.”

You watched from the doorway, your heart overflowing with love. Max’s commitment to your family was unwavering, and you knew that no matter where his career took him, he would always put you and Sophia first.

As the years went by, Max continued to be the most devoted father and partner. He never missed a moment, always finding time to be there for Sophia and you. And every time you saw him with your daughter, your love for him grew even stronger. Max Verstappen was not only a champion on the track but also a champion in your hearts—a loving father and partner who cherished every moment with his family.

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic

[revehae]

weak (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, virgin!jisung x (f) anemic!reader, drugging

wc. 990

i been writing this on and off for 24 days and youre telling me its only 990 words im not a serious person at all… fake news its longer now cause i suddenly added one (1) sentence. thank you @neocentral for holding a gun to my head

for two entire days, jisung was antsy. even the mere thought of you, no matter how brief, made a cool wind sweep over his shoulders and his gut tighten uncomfortably.

he knew what he was going to do, and he knew how he was going to do it, but even more so, he knew that it was wrong.

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

“so weak,” jisung whispered into deaf ears, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your ravishing scent. he imagined you calling him sungie like you always did, and it only made him grunt. “it’s okay. i’ll protect you. like i always have.”

#tw: noncon #tw: drugging #park jisung smut #nct jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #park jisung x reader #nct dream hard hours #revehae fantasies

[cherryredcheol]

"dove"

tldr: all the way minghao uses your nickname a/n: i really like this one

murmurs: in the early hours of the morning

“dove,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he tried to wake you gently. the combination of an early morning arrival at the airport and a long line at security had left you both tired when you reached the private lounge. settling into plush armchairs across from one another, neither of you said anything, happy to just relax before boarding. he didn’t notice you’d dozed off until he looked up.

“you should eat something before we board.” you’d been together long enough now that he knew you’d be very grumpy later if you didn’t eat breakfast. he also knew this flight wasn’t long enough for a meal to be served so if you didn’t eat now you wouldn’t until you were back home and by then you’d be starving and he didn’t want that. 

“come on, dove, let me see those eyes,” he felt bad for waking you when you clearly needed the rest, but he knew you’d thank him once you had food in your belly. the four hours it took to get from hong kong back to seoul could be spent behind the darkness of your eyelids but right now he was determined to get you breakfast. “they have your favorite…”

scoffs: when he can’t tell if you’re kidding

“dove.” he’s shocked. when you asked him so sweetly this morning if you could pick his outfit for the day, he didn’t think twice before telling you yes. he trusted your sense of style and knew that you knew what he liked to wear. he had total faith in you, excited to spend the day in clothes you picked specifically for him. he had an interview this afternoon and it thrilled him that he would be filmed wearing your outfit and no one would even know but you two. 

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” looking in the mirror he’s horrified. met with the sight of clashing colors, patterns, and textures, he knows he can’t go out like this. he’s not sure where it all went wrong. you have such good taste, it was one of the many things he loved about you, but came up with this? pulling his eyes away from the clothes, he met your gaze in the reflection and saw your smirk. 

he turned to you, incredulous over your prank but relieved that you hadn’t been sincere in your choices. he was worried he was going to have to hurt your feelings by changing. “i have to leave soon and you’ve wasted time on this silly trick. go pick me out a real outfit, dove.” he pointed to the closet and watched your smile widen at his teasing words as you crossed the room to pick something sincerely this time. “make me look nice!”

probes: because he thinks you’ve had too much screen time

“dove?” he knows you asked to be left alone but that doesn’t feel right when you’re so clearly stressed. he’d been at your apartment for 30 minutes and you had not looked up from your laptop the entire time. he’s pretty sure you haven’t looked up from it all day and he’s worried you might be starting to fuse to your desk chair. he came over for movie night, excited because it was his choice this week, but at this point, he’d just be glad to see your eyes. 

“have you eaten today?” he was going to be persistent about this. you needed a break and he was not going to stop until you took one for the rest of the night, with him. he knew you had a lot on your plate and there was a lot that needed to get done but running yourself into the ground wasn’t going to accomplish anything. he was standing behind you, hands rubbing gently on your shoulders, offering support but also letting you know he wasn’t going to be leaving you alone anytime soon. 

“save your work and let’s order take-out.” his tone is a little strict but he wants you to take him seriously and listen. clearly understanding this, he watches your cursor travel across the screen to the save icon and feels satisfied when you push the computer closed. he smiles when you turn in the chair and stand to greet him properly, happy that you were not becoming one with your chair. he wraps you up in his arms and presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “you’re going to love my movie pick tonight.”

marvels: as you walk through the door

“dove,” he’s rendered near speechless at the sight of you walking out from the bathroom. dressed in your comfy pajamas, he can’t tear his eyes away. scrubbed clean and glowy from your products, he swears you shine brighter than any star he's ever seen. suddenly the mattress he’s stretched out on feels a little too cold without you. 

“you look so beautiful,” he compliments you with so much sincerity, hoping to convey how much he means it, hoping you can feel it. you were his sense of calm in the craziness of his life. strong, steady, and always here for him, he aspired to be the same for you. seeing you so soft, lit from the back by the vanity light, he was so sure you were it for him. 

“come join me,” he pouts at you, already anticipating the comforting weight of you in his arms, too impatient to wait any longer. his pout morphs into a smile watching you scurry to the bed, flopping onto the empty side he’s saved just for you. he’ll save a side of the bed for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. “come here, dove. give me a good night kiss.” 

teases: while trying to encourage a new career move

“dove” he sing-songs from the other side of the space, trying to grab your attention. it was late, or early depending on interpretation, and only the two of you were left in the practice room. he was fooling around with different steps and filming some challenges. you were more than content to sit and watch, never much of a dancer. 

“come dance with me,” he holds a hand out to you, palm open and facing up in an invitation. you eye him wearily, his smile a touch too manic to not be interpreted as mischievous. you heave yourself off the floor, crossing the room to him, accepting his outstretched hand. the music playing isn’t something you recognize but it’s soft and sweet and sets the mood perfectly as he draws you close to his chest, swaying gently back and forth. 

“you could be a decent dancer with a little practice. probably not as good as me though,” he whispers this, trying to preserve the serene, romantic mood that had been set. but your giggles shatter the illusion, breaking the quiet and dragging him into his own fit of laughter. the moment was ruined, but he supposed laughing with you was just as romantic as a slow dance. 

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt x reader #minghao imagine #minghao #the8 #the8 x reader #xu minghao #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #minghao imagines #minghao seventeen

[nathaslosthershit]

A Big Decision (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)

(Part 8 of Teen Dad!OP au [Can be read on its own])

Summary: It is time to pop the big question

The twins had finally gone down for a nap after spending so long fighting it. The kids, at age three, have started to fight them more and more, leading their parents to start discussing if it's time for naps to stop. Honey, being a stay at home mom, had needed the nap time as much as her kids had in the past, giving her time to catch up on chores or just rest for a little, so she was really trying to get as much time as she could with it. But maybe it truly was over.

She was surprised to see Oscar pacing in their living room once she went back downstairs.

“Well, aren't you home early?” She says as Oscar immediately wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her neck and kissing it.

“Missed you all, did what they needed from me extra fast so I could get home earlier. Thought we could maybe go out tonight?”

“Oscar, it's a friday night. Do you know how impossible getting a babysitter would be? The kids also take a while to warm up to babysitters, I don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Good thing I thought ahead then. Lando had a free night and has been begging to see them after the last ‘betrayal’ when they wore Sargeant hats. Even better, he said he would do it for free if it meant working towards being the favorite.”

“Oscar, you can’t get your coworkers to babysit your twin toddlers for free by dangling favoritism in their faces.”

“It was his idea! I am just capitalizing off of it. I got us a nice reservation too, we just need to let him now in the next…” Oscar checks his wrist where his watch usually rests but finds it missing, “uh now. So I need an answer quickly, are we going to stay home and eat the same leftovers we have had for the past two days, or are we going to make Lando Norris the happiest man alive by letting him watch our kids for free while we have an amazingly romantic dinner?” Oscar quickly asks as he takes his ex-fiancee, now girlfriend, in his arms.

“Fine, let's go out, we could use the night off. Let Lando know I appreciate him watching them for us.”

“Perfect, why don’t you go out, do something nice for yourself, I'll take over with the kids. We still have time before dinner tonight.” Oscar suggested in a strange tone as he kissed all surface area of her face.

“What is up with you today? I don’t mind it but you are so much more touchy.” She laughed.

“Don’t worry bout a thing.” Was all he replied as he walked away. “Tonight will be the best yet, I promise.”

That’s when it struck her, why he was being so weird. Surely, he was going to propose.

After the huge fight in Suzuka, she had called the engagement off, causing them to ignore each other’s existence unless it came to the kids, for seven weeks. Since they had gotten back together, life had been blissful. Sure, it was most likely the ‘honeymoon’ phase of their relationship, but even so, they had been so ready to marry each other before things started going downhill. Maybe days after they got back together isn’t the right time to get engaged, but they had been to hell and back together since they got pregnant at 18 years old, they were it for each other, always would be. 

Oscar taking off of racing had also been a blessing. It had been hard for him, certainly. But he had needed to learn how to put his family first again, a priority that got harder to keep up with since joining Formula 1. 

As she sat in the nail salon chair, getting what were hopefully her engagement nails done, she thought back to how far they’d come. 

Arriving home with her nails done, and after getting the most amazing massage, Honey was giddy as she greeted her, hopefully, soon to be fiancé. After an hour and a half of filling her head with wedding plans and thinking about their future when she would finally get to be Mrs. Piastri after 7 years, she was more excited then she was the first time he proposed. 

This excitement continued from the moment she stepped into the shower, till the moment she sat in her seat at the restaurant. Oscar had hired a driver for the night, saying it was a night all for them, no need to be careful of how many drinks they were going to have, he had also told her he had plans to take them to the beach after where they could finish the night with a picnic by the water and stay as late as they liked. 

There was one thing that was off about him though, while she had expected nerves, she had also expected excitement from him and soon noticed the more giggly she was, the more upset he seemed to be. Maybe he realized she had caught on?

She finally asked what was up after he spilt his drink.

“Seriously Osc, what is wrong with you? You claim this is such a nice night for just the two of us but you are a mess right now!”

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m like th-”

“Bullshit. I thought I made it clear how awful of a liar you are Oscar Jack Piastri, just tell me. Please?”

Silence filled the air as he stared at her, words failing.

“I will get up if you don’t-”

“I had a meeting with higher ups at McLaren earlier today and was told if I don’t come back then I am out of the contract and I agreed to come back for the Spanish Grand Prix!” Oscar blurted out.

Again, a heavy silence landed on the couple, both of them daring the other one to speak first.

Then, without a single word, Honey got up from the table and walked to the car leaving Oscar at the table, tears starting to fall.

Part 2 coming tomorrow!

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader

[harrywavycurly]

Secret Rendezvous Part 19: Good Idea

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language

Tag List: @emma-munson @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg @comeonatmebruh @missmarch-99 @arthurcerverogf @disassociationdive @123iloveyou456 @perplexing-vex

A/N: This takes place the same day as part 18, and the next part is the last one for this series and I’m sad but I know y’all will love it✨

“Jesus I’ve been looking everywhere for you…why are you out here?” “I was hoping to be alone…what do you need Emerson?” “I need you to tell me why you thought asking her to fucking prom was a good idea when the two of you haven’t talked in-” “Chrissy said I needed to show her I didn’t give a fuck about what other people think about us being together so why wouldn’t I ask her to prom? That’s…what…normal couples do isn’t it? Go to dances and shit?” “Uh yeah Eddie key word there is couples…you two aren’t even friends!” “We are now…we talked about it at lunch today…” “Oh…well that’s….that’s good.” “She hasn’t listened to the tape yet…thinks it was fucking Henry who gave it to her.” “Yeah she’s going to figure it out pretty quickly it wasn’t him…assuming you actually sing the songs right? Or did you just-” “Yes I actually sang the songs I’m not going to half ass this shit…I can’t risk fucking it up again…” “So…you love her don’t you?” “What?” “Oh come on man you asked her to prom with a mixtape of songs you covered yourself…you totally fucking love her.” “Okay…and what if I do?” “Uhm…you should tell her.” “I’ll wait and see how she feels after listening to the tape…did you know she was co Captain of the cheerleading squad?” “Yeah…I saw it on her jacket she wears on game days.” “Oh…I guess I never noticed…” “there’s a lot of shit you don’t notice about her…but If you’re serious about wanting to be in a relationship with her and if you’re in love with her you gotta get better at just…being interested in the things she’s into.” “I know…I uh actually watch her perform sometimes at the games I just don’t sit in the stands.” “That’s not creepy at all…” “fuck off…I just…I’m going to try and be there for more things when…or if…she even wants me there…she could really tell me to go fuck myself and I wouldn’t blame her.” “I doubt she’ll tell you that…but I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses because it was hard watching you fuck this up so badly…” “yeah?” “Yeah it was like watching a car wreck in slow motion…totally brutal.” “Well you could’ve tried to stop it at any point ya know?” “Uh I did try…but you’re so stubborn you just refused my help…but look at you now man…hiding from the girl you’re in love with outside under the bleachers…” “that’s what some people would call progress.” “Exactly….I’ll uh let you have your alone time now but uhm…really don’t let too much time go by before you tell her how you feel okay?” “Yeah I won’t…don’t worry.” “Oh please…you two manage to get into these weird fucking scenarios and all I can do is worry.” “Emerson…get outta here before I kick your ass…” “Right…leaving now…see you later Eddie.”

#secret rendezvous #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #gareth emerson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

[everybodyhatesmiddleschool]

It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #maladaptive daydreaming #creative writing #send help #nicola coughlan #luke newton

[winwintea]

secure that card! 28. burnt cookies

Chenle wanted you to start on something simple, like cookies. Baking wasn’t hard, you couldn’t set the kitchen on fire unless you forgot about the cookies, and he would be there to make sure that wasn’t going to happen.

Or so he thought. 

“You can eat the dough right?” You asked him carefully scooping a bit of the dough up with your finger.

“Yes, but did you wash your hands?” Chenle carefully eyed your finger as it slowly made contact with your mouth.

“Of course I did!” You beam at him, and he can’t help but crack a smile. “Wait… this is so good… try some…” 

He watches you as you once again dip your fingers into the leftover batch of dough, scooping up more from the bowl, and walked over to you in one swift motion. “What are y-?” He had little time to react however, before you promptly shoved the cookie dough into his mouth. 

“Tastes sweet right?” You asked him, clearly unfazed. 

Chenle’s cheeks were practically flushing red, “A little warning next time?” 

The corners of your mouth lifted up with a smirk, “What? You’re perfectly fine with whatever we did last week, but you can’t handle a bit of this?” 

“It’s not… Stop that…” He stammered out, unable to respond. 

“Relax. I love teasing you. It’s so easy, you know that right?” 

Although he was normally the one bullying his friends, it seems as he had flipped his switch when it came to you. (Recently though, it’d seemed as though he was the one being subject to jokes ever since you were introduced to the table)  “Yeah… I guess… Alright…” 

Chenle couldn’t practically believe that you two had gone from strangers to lovers in practically a couple of weeks, nor did he imagine you would ever reciprocate these feelings back. It seemed as if there had been many events in between that drew you two closer together. Call it fate, call it bad luck, but good things had certainly followed. Not that he didn’t feel guilty at least, knowing he had been the cause for probably half of your misery these few days. 

“Thanks for taking my mind off of things, certainly been having a rough couple of weeks…” You gave him an endearing smile, once again eating another spoonful of cookie dough.

“Did you want to continue to be distracted, or talk about it?” Ever since you had arrived at his house, you two had not mentioned a single word about Haechan and his most recent relapse. Chenle had decided to give you time and space to talk about it when you wanted to, and instead allowed you to focus on the task of baking the cookies first. Now that the cookies were in the oven you two had a few minutes to spare while waiting for them to finish. 

You thought to yourself for a couple of moments, before turning to look at him with a determined look on your face, “It’s okay, we can talk about it.” 

Taking a seat, Chenle eagerly waited to hear what you had to say about the situation. He couldn’t help but feel curious as to what exactly happened. 

“So almost 2 years ago, it was just me, Jaem, Yuqi, and Haechan.” You began, “And it was sort of awkward for me, since I’m younger than them. Yuqi’s the oldest so she kind of takes on a motherly figure sometimes towards us, and Jaem and Haechan are in the same grade.” 

Chenle hadn’t expected you to launch into your friend group’s history, but was interested regardless. 

You continued on, “But Haechan always somehow made us feel? Connected? He always bridged that gap between our ages. Probably since he acts so immature half the time, but it was so nice. Regardless, we actually used to go out partying all the time, Haechan and Yuqi especially. As you can see, we don’t really anymore.” 

“Is that why you had an aversion to attending dejun’s party a couple of weeks ago?” 

“Yeah, it mostly stems from the past issues. You see, Haechan got hooked on LSD at this time. At first, we didn’t think much on it. He casually used it, and it wasn’t very often, so we kind of just tolerated it?” Chenle nodded attentively as you carried on, “But eventually it got bad, like… really bad… I…”

He latched onto your hand, gripping it softly with his own palm, and looked to you for support. Chenle didn’t say it out loud, but his eyes seemed to say that you didn’t have to continue if you wanted to. 

Determined to finish, you smiled at him and returned to your story, “He would go through… many episodes. It was the worst. Sometimes it would be fine, and he could be clean for, a couple of weeks, and sometimes… he’d go back to that shitty state once again. He’d go in and out of rehab multiple times… and his mother… We really liked his mom and she liked us, but she just… practically gave up on him. It was so… heartbreaking… Like how could you, ever just? I don’t know. I don’t understand? Your son?” 

You had tears in your eyes at this point, and Chenle couldn’t bare it any longer, as he grabbed you and embraced you into a hug, his fingers stroking your hair slowly. “It’s okay… He got better right? Didn’t he?” 

“He did… and we all helped him, Jaem especially. He helped him get into rehab, and stood by him most of the time. Really it was all in thanks to Jaemin that Haechan was able to get better. And he’s been clean for about a year and a half.” You stared deeply into his eyes, “And that’s why we rarely attend parties anymore.” 

“And now? What happened now?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I just found out that the supplier of the drugs was Ten.” He raised an eyebrow, but you hurriedly finished, “But before you jump to any conclusions, we confirmed that Ten had no clue he was selling Haechan any drugs. I need to ask Haechan myself, though.” You sighed, leaning more into his embrace, as he continued to play with your hair. 

“Well I think you’re honestly really brave, Y/n.” 

“Me? Brave? How so?”

“Well you’ve dealt with so much shit recently. With getting run over, to being stalked, to dealing with one of your closest friends relapsing, you’ve been through a lot. Honestly it’s so admirable, how much you’ve been able to deal with and still stay strong. I love you for that actually.”  This time your face was flushing, instead of the other way around. And it didn’t help that Chenle had started placing small butterfly kisses on your forehead, but you were perfectly content with that anyways.

However you two were suddenly startled by a loud beep from the kitchen.

“Shit.”

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ zhong chenle is the owner of many cards. a black card? he owns that. he even has a stanford student id card. the one card he doesn’t own though? a green card. and if chenle plays his cards right, he just may be able to secure one by wooing you. or it could all fall through… who knows?

TAG LIST ▸ @marvelahsobx @lyvhie @odxrilove @jkslvsnella @aquaphoenixz @wonnieluv @acidwon @syatchy @sleepyvic @grassbutneo @chcnlcs @taeeflwrr @hibernatinghamster @jaeimjaemin @gukuwii @slayhaechan @yyangj3lly @seunghancore @clean-soap @bath1lda @lostinneocity @defzcl @ckline35 @multifandomania @meltinghershey @foxy-kitsune @jising-jisang-jisung @minkyuncutie @zuzu-the-simp @dojaejunging @leehanascent @nosungluv @sunflowerbebe07 @h-aecat @layuhsblog @fae-renjun @w3bqrl @hyuckies18 @wonbin-truther

#SORRY FOR THE VERY VERY LATE UPDATE 😭😭 #this took forever to upload too 😭😭 #anyways <333 cookies #haechan’s kinda an idiot but we forgive him #nct dream #nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fic #nct 127 #wayv #nct wish #nct dream fic #chenle #zhong chenle fic #zhong chenle x reader #chenle smau #chenle social media au #chenle imagine #chenle x reader #chenle scenarios #nct chenle #nct fanfic #nct social media au #nct smau #nct dream smau #nct dream fanfic #nct dream social media au

[aphroditeinthesea]

hey!! I was wondering if you could do a Poseidon fem reader x Jason Grace blurb or hcs about their relationship with each other, but she has a pet cat that she is obsessed with and Jason is just admiring the two while his gf is treating her cat like a baby and saying it our kid? If that makes sense??

“ with two cats in the yard (life used to be so hard) ”

jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡

a/n this is my favorite request i have ever gotten, whoever sent this in ilysm & ik u said blurb but i got carried away

tw none

. ݁₊ ⊹ 🐾 . ݁₊ ⊹

“Where’s the baby?” Y/N spoke right as Jason opened the door to his cabin.

He laughed, “she’s asleep,” he let her in, softly kissing her cheek as she entered.

He had been spending the past two days with y/n’s cat while she had to go on a quest.

She smiled as she softly brushed her index finger along the cat’s forehead, whispering, “mommy’s home.” The tabby let out a small noise while she opened her eyes. Just like an infant would, the cat reached up her front paws, leaning up on y/n.

She picked up the cat, who made herself comfortable on her owner’s shoulder, “did you miss me?”

“Are you asking me or her?” Jason remarked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “maybe both.”

He grinned as he stepped closer to her, “I think I speak for both of us when I say, I missed you.”

She giggled, leaning up to kiss her boyfriend, “good, you know I was hoping you two would bond while I was gone.”

He gently petted the back of the cat, “yeah, we’re best friends now.”

Y/N held the cat in front of her to look at her face, “did you have fun with daddy?”

The boy choked on his spit, “daddy?”

“Yes, daddy,” she faced the cat towards him, “this is our daughter.”

He smiled, “I’d hope that our future kids have better names than Purrmaid.”

“Hey!” She pulled the cat away, “I named her when I had just gotten claimed,” she defended, “and that’s Madame Purrmaid of the Atlantic to you.”

“Oh gods, that’s even worse.”

“I was twelve!”

The cat meowed.

She handed Purrmaid to Jason, “tell her you’re sorry.”

He grabbed the cat, cradling her, “daddy’s sorry for making fun of your name.” He went to let her, but she swatted his hand, leaving a scratch.

“She’s mad at you.”

“She is not,” he went to pet her again, instead getting scratched once more, “she might be.” He placed her on the ground before she swatted one of his legs, “what did I do?!”

His girlfriend cackled, “she’s going through a phase.” He exaggeratedly frowned, she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “it’s okay, I still love you.”

He held her waist, “promise?”

“Promise,” she reached up to kiss him again, “can I crash in your bed? I’m exhausted.”

“That’s what it’s there for,” he replied.

She sluggishly crawled under his covers. Purrmaid followed, laying on y/n’s chest.

Jason laid down next to the two, “is that comfortable?”

“I can’t breathe, but it’s okay.” She grabbed his hand, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, they’re small,” he comforted, “unlike Purrmaid.”

“You take that back!”

“I will once you stop feeding her your leftover lunch.”

“She gets hungry!”

“I don’t think cats are supposed to eat broccoli, my love.”

“Hmph,” she looked away for a second before turning back to the bright blue eyes, “we should get another one.”

He smiled, “you wanna?”

“We can get a boy, and you can name him!” She planned out.

“I won’t be naming him Thun-purr.”

“Aww, that’d be so cute though.”

“Fine,” he kissed her forehead, “I’ll name him whatever you want me to.”

“It’ll depend on what he looks like,” she replied, “because if it’s a tabby, he’ll be Harry, if he’s light, he’ll be Niall-”

“I take it back, you’re not naming him after One Direction.”

She lightly hit his shoulder, “I was joking, loser.”

“Sure, you were.”

“Seriously, what would you name a cat?” She softly questioned.

He sighed, “I’ve always kind of wanted to get a cat named, uh,” he hesitated, “don't make fun of me.”

“Babe, my cat is named Madame Purrmaid of the… I can't even finish.”

He chuckled, twirling his fingers in her hair, “fine, I wanted a cat to name Cannoli.”

She grinned, “that’s adorable!”

“Thanks,” he embarrassedly looked down while still smiling, “there used to be this bakery in New Rome where they had the world’s best cannolis and one time I saw this giant orange cat walking by it and I always thought that’s exactly the kind of cat I wanted.”

“Then you shall have your very own Cannoli,” she declared in a British accent, “I’ve actually never had a cannoli.” “Next time I head to New Rome, you're coming with me,” he smiled, “you and Purry.”

“Like that was a question,” she replied, petting the feline.

He breathily laughed, “do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m kinda craving a cannoli.”

“You’ve never had one,” he responded, confused.

“Yeah, but you love them so much, they must be good,” she added, “you have good taste.”

“I do?”

“You like me, I think that’s enough proof.”

“That’s a good point.”

She opened her arms, “come give mommy some sugar,” she said using a strange Boston accent.

“Y/N,” he rubbed his temples, “what are you talking about?”

“I don't know, I haven't slept in 20 hours.”

“Here,” he moved the blanket further over her and the cat, “get some sleep and I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

She nodded as he began to walk away, “wait!”

He turned around, “yeah?”

“I love you.”

He grinned, he jogged back over to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Ahem?”

“Sorry,” he put his hand on Purrmaid, “love you, too.”

#jason grace x reader #jason grace #jason grace headcanon #jason grace one shot #jason grace fanfic #jason grace imagine #jason grace blurb #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x daughter of poseidon #jason grace x daughter of neptune #daughter of poseidon

[justalittletotheleft]

my little friend that I play with keeps sending me your stories because she's clearly feeling jealous of the girls in your stories, I think that would make a cute story of a girl who shares this kind of stuff and tries to pretend that it's not absolutely what she wants. She has sent me the "check your pullup" hypno story about 5 times~

aweee that’s so cute! seems like someone’s too shy to admit they need to go back to the basics. here’s a little story for her, hopefully it’ll help her accept her inevitable decline back to diapers!

you stare at the photo confused. is that really what you look like? you look like such a baby! how didn’t you notice before?

a few months ago, you sent daddy some stories. harmless little stories about little girls (like you) being put back into diapers. it’s totally not something you’d want, you’re a big girl! you just though that uh maybe daddy would enjoy it?

after maybe one two many stories, daddy sent you some hypnosis files to listen to throughout the day. you can’t say no to daddy right? so you started listening to them, like a good girl!

it just seemed so natural, adding pull-ups to your shopping list, buying some cuter clothes from the little girls section, not even being alarmed when you’d wake up drooling with your thumb in your mouth!

every call with daddy now seemed to end in a soaked pull-up, but that’s what they’re there for right? he reassures you that “accidents happen”, and not to worry about unknowingly soaking your padding.

so when daddy texted asking for a pull-up check, you immediately got your camera open and snapped a photo. but you look so. babyish.

you’ve been walking around for days, hair in pigtails, clothes from the little girls section, all with a pull-up underneath. you remember getting some funny looks in public, you barely cared. but now, staring at yourself in the photo, you squirm and blush, you seriously look stupid, like an,oversized toddler! how did you leave the house like this?

your phone starts to ring before you can panic anymore. daddy’s calling! he can fix this! you pick up the phone without hesitation.

“princess, what’s taking you so long? your pull-ups not wet, is it?”

“no! course not daddy! i’m a big girl, it’s dry-“

you cut yourself off. hand on the front of your pull-up, you feel it expanding and growing warmer underneath your hand. you were wetting yourself. you could barely feel it.

“awww did you have an accident baby girl?”

daddy croons teasingly on the line.

“uh maybe…”

you hear him chuckle.

“that’s okay potty pants, why don’t you go change into one of those diapers you ordered the other day? you’ve been pottying in those pull-ups a bit to much lately!”

you whine. he’s not wrong. you haven’t had a dry night in weeks, and usually have at least one accident during the day.

“no! what did you do to me! i’m a big girl! why am i acting like a baby!”

you shake your head, trying to get the fuzzy feeling of daddy’s voice to stop.

“what do you mean sweetheart? this is what you asked for! daddy just followed all those cute little stories you sent him.”

“no daddy, those were a joke! just something you’d like, i don’t want to be a baby!”

you whine, moving in front of a mirror stare at the infantile girl in your reflection.

“you don’t have to lie princess. daddy knows what you really want, so go be a good girl and put on a nice thick diaper for daddy, mkay?”

you feel your brain get fuzzy. suddenly, your reflection doesn’t look so wrong. daddy’s right! you do want to be a little baby! why resist him?

“okay daddy!”

you toddle over to your diaper drawer, wet pull-up cooling between your legs.

“good girl, just sink deeper and deeper for daddy okay? i’ll send you some new hypnosis files right now baby, it sounds like you’re ready for phase two of your regression!”

[fear-is-truth]

𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑻 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑺 ── stan bowes x secretary!reader

 𝝑𝑒 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: f!reader. infidelity. mentions of sex. angst

never watched the show so… excuse the shitty writing

⟢ your first mistake was letting his smile occupy your thoughts. it all started with that smile of his, that goddamn smile was the catalyst for everything that followed. at first, it was just small things—the way his fingers lingered a beat too long, the way his gaze seemed to burn into yours, even when he should have been looking at the papers you’d handed him. you told yourself it was nothing, just a trick of the light or a figment of your imagination and wishful thinking. an unrequited crush on your boss, that was all it was.

then there was your birthday. you’d only joined Trump Tower a few weeks before, and Stan was the only one who wished you a happy birthday. he must have seen the reminder on Facebook, so you never gave it a second thought. but when you saw the bouquet of flowers on your desk, your heart soared. the card attached simply read, “happy birthday. hope it’s as special as you are — Stan.” a small gesture, but it felt oddly intimate, like a shared secret between the both of you. for a split second, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility that maybe, just maybe the flowers meant something more. you quickly banished that thought out of your mind. after all, Stan was a married man; a husband and father of two. boundaries not to be crossed, best to avoid.

⟢ your second mistake was attending that dinner party with him. it was a company event, one of those mandatory gatherings meant to foster camaraderie. when Stan approached you and casually mentioned his wife was busy with the kids, you found yourself agreeing to go with him as a “friend,” not his secretary. the night was a montage of laughter, pleasantries and clinking glasses. you sat next to each other at the table, too close, his hand brushing against your thigh more times than you could count—accidental, you told yourself.

but then, when someone mistook you for Stan’s girlfriend, you were bewildered; stood frozen like a deer in headlights and waited for your boss to correct them. but for some reason, he didn’t. instead, Stan just smiled and let the assumption hang in the air. the small, collusive smirk he sent your way was enough to make your heart go into overdrive. as if the two of you were playing pretend, not “mummy and daddy” but “girlfriend and boyfriend”. okay, you were more than happy to indulge in this fantasy world.

by the end of the night, both of you were wasted. sharing a cab back to your apartment felt natural, the most obvious choice. city lights blurred through the window, casting dark shadows on his features as he sat beside you. too close, but you weren’t complaining. when the car stopped outside your apartment, you hesitated, for a split second too long. one moment you were saying goodbye, the next his lips were on yours—soft. desperate, as if he couldn’t bear the idea of letting you go. this was the moment you’d been guiltily fantasising about. but reality shattered the illusion as swiftly as it had formed: this was someone else’s husband that you were kissing.

“sorry- i, i can’t.”

you fumbled with the door handle and stumbled out of the cab, almost tripping on the curb. cold air hit you like a splash of icy water, sobering you up just enough to realise your actions. you turned to see Stan watching you, his expression unreadable—shame? desire? regret? you weren’t quite sure. without a word, he shut the door and the cab pulled away. the taste of the kiss still burned on your lips as you watched the taillights disappear into the night.

⟢ your third mistake was letting that kiss linger in your mind, festering until it turned into something dangerous; the sapling that grew the apple of temptation. the following weeks were painful, the interactions between the two of you were a minefield of awkward glances and stilted conversations. one day, Stan asked to speak with you in his office. the door closed behind you, and he apologised for that night. told you that he had never meant to complicate things, that he valued you too much to let one mistake ruin everything. you nodded, trying to find the right words, and before you knew it, you were in his arms again, his lips on yours. it was wrong but it felt so right. a fucking cliché, but that was the only way to describe that kiss.

and then it finally happened—the ultimate unforgivable. clothes were hastily discarded, fumbling hands and guilty moans. afterward, you both dressed in silence, the office room reeking of sex, sweat and sin. it should have felt amazing, like the culmination of all those stolen glances and lingering stares. but it didn’t. not even close. it was hurried, guilt-ridden, made you feel tainted and filthy, as it should.

dirty girl, look what you’ve done. you’re a homewrecker now, you fucking slut.

your final decision was to leave it all behind. the shame, the remorse, every mistake you made in that gilded cage of an office. you handed in your resignation without fanfare, your letter brief and to the point. you packed your belongings in a quiet corner of the day, avoiding any lingering goodbyes or prying eyes. you missed him, thought about him every day. but you also knew it was necessary. for the sake of your own sanity, for both of you.

seven months later, life had started to regain some semblance of normalcy. as you juggled bags of groceries down the bustling streets, your mind wandered to what you might cook for dinner that night. maybe pasta, you thought, or perhaps a stir-fry. suddenly, you collided with someone, and your bags of groceries spilled onto the pavement. the stranger who had bumped into you didn’t even look back, disappearing into the sea of people. annoyed, you knelt down to gather your scattered items, cursing under your breath.

just as you reached for a bright red apple that had rolled away, another hand beat you to it. your gaze followed the arm to its owner, and your heart almost stopped in your chest. it was your former boss, but something was different—his left hand was conspicuously bare, no longer adorned with a wedding ring.

for a beat, you simply stared at each other. time seeming to stretch out into eternity. there was a flicker of something familiar in his eyes, the same intense emotion that had been in his gaze when he kissed you. Stan held out the apple, and you took it, your fingers brushing against his. he smiled. you smiled back.

probably will never watch this show bc i’m too busy rewatching cult and i don’t like stan bowes. i tolerate him because of evan lol

TAGLIST— @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @arabella-da-doll @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @kai-slut @comababy-67h @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @k31sley @violet-harmon2011 @luuuuucyscorner @starry-eyed-wild-child @viscerati @evanpeterspeter @dangeroustaintedflawed @evanpetersbf @joshlmbrt @ggenyxxo @xxfolkloresxx

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

#stan bowes x reader #Stan bowes #tv: pose #evan peters #Evan peters x reader #american horror story #kai anderson #tate langdon #james patrick march #kit walker

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

I just found your page and stalked all your writing lol, it’s absolutely amazing and I’m highly obsessed now!! from the prompt list for jily: “What are we?” + “I would like us to be more than friends.” (Head students era confession?)

oh you mean my favourite jily era??? my pleasure! ps uhhh pls don't count the words on this one

from this prompt list

James has thought about the moment at least once an hour, every day, for about two months now. Putting it into perspective like that makes him come face-to-face with the fact that he’s even more ridiculous than he’s usually comfortable admitting. 

And James has always known he’s ridiculous.

The conversation plays out a million different ways in his head, like a lucid dream he can only sort of control and only up until a certain point because it’s Lily, and he stopped trying to predict her next move long ago.

It’s why she always beats him at chess. He knows her—really knows her, not like he used to think he did—but he’ll never be able to anticipate what she’ll say or do. Full of surprises, she is.

Somehow, though—his brain, in the infinite possibilities it’s constructed, failed to think of even one situation in which she would be the one asking him.

“What are we?” she asks, sitting on the bench next to him outside Scrivenshaft’s, her thermos of tea warming her hands. She's wrapped in her Gryffindor scarf with a green knit cap pulled down over her ears, auburn curls spilling out and flying around with each heavy gust of the biting January wind. She's perfect and he just—

Stares at her.

“Okay,” she says, laughing, then takes a long sip of her tea, her gaze shifting to the empty street in front of them. It’s still early, so most of the Hogsmeade crowd is either having a lie-in or getting breakfast at the Three Broomsticks.

James and Lily got out of the castle as quickly as they could in order to make the most of their day. Day, not date, because they’re friends. Sort of. Most of the time. Except for when she flirts with him and he flirts back and that one time last week when he’s almost positive she was going to kiss him and that other time last week he is positive he was going to kiss her. And all the other moments that makes him absolutely lose his head.

“Never mind,” she says, and she’s bloody smiling. “I thought we…” Another slow, agonising sip. “Never mind.”

James feels the panic set in, just like when they play chess. It’s his move, he knows it’s his move, but which way can knights move, and how many spaces can bishops take, and—

“You’re freaking out,” she observes casually. He doesn’t know when she looked back at him.

“What?” he manages, the word sounding squeaky.

She might smile again, then. He can’t be sure, because she’s lifted the thermos back up to her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought you were ready.” She tilts her head, studying him. “I’ve been trying to pick a good moment, you know. To talk about this. But…” She shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.” She caps her thermos of tea and stands from the bench then, looking down at him. “Wanna go to Honeyduke’s?”

“Do I want to—” He shakes his head, blinking rapidly, then looks up at her, sharply. “Huh?”

Lily laughs softly. “It’s almost ten,” she says, like this was the root of his confusion. “We can be first to the Pick ‘N Mix for once.”

She’s talking about candy. She’s just asked him to define their entire complicated relationship and then—without waiting even a moment for him to catch his breath—started talking about candy.

“Can you…” He frowns, struggling to find his words. (Struggling to remember how to breathe.) “Sit down…please,” he finally manages.

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue, settling back down on the bench beside him. He certainly doesn’t have the wherewithal to match wits with her right now if she chooses to be stubborn.

“I need a…a minute.”

“Okay,” she says, and pops the lid back off her thermos, gracefully pouring herself another shallow cup of tea. “You know,” she says, conversationally, “this works loads better than a heating charm. Marlene says I’m mad for lugging it all about Hogsmeade, but how else can I secure an infinite amount of tea to get me through the day? We don’t have a spell for that yet, do we?”

“Are you—” He breaks off and turns toward her on the bench. “Are you enjoying this?”

Her lips twitch up into a small smile. “Perhaps a little.”

He shuts his eyes tight and groans.

“I intend to be your girlfriend by the time we graduate, Potter,” she says, and he doesn’t know when she’s leaned toward him, but he can smell the peppermint tea on her breath and feel it tickle the hair near his ears. The bench creaks as she moves back away from him, taking his heart with her. “We’ve got, oh—” A pause. “Six more months. I’m not in a hurry.”

Not in a hurry. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s been waiting for this for six years. Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but—this calls for being dramatic! She’s just admitted to wanting to be his girlfriend—his girlfriend!—and he’s fumbling the Quaffle so bad he’s about to be benched. 

He can’t let this moment pass by without saying something.

“Girlfriend!” he blurts out

“Is that—” Her grin grows, even as her cheeks flush pink. “Was that an offer, or are you auditioning for the role of a caveman in a play I didn’t know Hogwarts was putting on?”

James wants to pull his hair out of his head. He wants to pull it out of his head and make a nest, so he can hide forever, like those bald little baby eagles he saw with his parents on the coast last summer.

“No, I want to—let’s talk.”

She sets the thermos on the bench between them and lifts up her hands, counting her fingers one at a time as her lips move wordlessly. “Wow. Six words.”

“Lily, can—you…”

“Okay, okay,” she says, with a giggle. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop taking the piss, I swear. Let’s talk.” Folding her hands in her lap, she looks at him expectantly. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

He gives her a significant look, making her laugh again, but she nods.

“Alright,” she begins, “well I don’t have much to say, really.” She shrugs, her legs dangling back and forth over the bench, just shy of touching the snowy ground. “I like spending time with you. I think you’re ridiculously fit. You’re a good person and—I really want to be able to kiss you without wondering if it’ll ruin everything.”

James has always found most Muggle swears to be rather lacking in oomph, but now—

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Oh,” he says.

“So, Potter,” she drawls, nudging his shin with her foot, “what are we?”

“I would—” he starts, then pauses, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. “I would…like us to be more than friends.”

“Oh,” she echoes, her foot hooking behind his on the ground in front of them.

“Lily.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve had a—a whole speech ready. For weeks.” he confesses. “But right now, my brain is…cold, I think. So I don’t want you to take my lack of…words…as a lack of enthusiasm. I’m…very enthused.”

Lily looks at him, jade eyes blazing. “Will I get to hear the speech in the near future?”

“Do you…want to?”

“I want to hear anything you have to say, Potter,” she says simply.

“Are you sure because—”

“Yes,” she replies, moving closer. Her wind-chapped lips stop a breath away from his. “What are we, James?”

He inhales deeply and doesn’t think again before murmuring, “Everything,” and closing the gap between them.

#my fic #jily #james is Trying ™️

[buddie-buddie]

hi <3 how about bucktommy and "i can't belive this"

“I can’t believe this,” Buck groans, dropping his head to Tommy’s lap and stretching out, his feet hanging over the arm of the couch. 

It’s late morning by now, maybe even early afternoon. Buck had stumbled into bed last night with his head spinning, steadied by Tommy’s arm across his waist and his warm, familiar weight behind him. He’d slept like a rock until the pounding in his head woke him up a few minutes ago, his throat dry and his eyes hot as his hangover roared to life. His heart fluttered when he mustered up the courage to open his eyes all the way and saw the glass of water and two ibuprofen on the nightstand, both of which he downed before he let his feet hit the floor. 

He made his way into the bathroom, where his heart fluttered again as he realized he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants he had no recollection of putting on last night, both of which are just a little bit too big to be his own. He brushed his teeth with the toothbrush that showed up in the bathroom the same day Tommy gave him a spare key to his house. It still makes him smile every time he sees it in the cup beside the sink, right next to Tommy’s own. 

Buck found Tommy in the kitchen, dropping a bagel into the toaster and humming to himself under his breath. Buck slid up behind him, snaking his arms around Tommy’s waist and resting his chin on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy had turned his head to press a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, murmuring “G’morning,” into his curls as his hands came to cover Buck’s own. They stayed like that for a minute, content to just hold each other in the silence of the morning, until the bagel popped up and Tommy ushered Buck into one of the stools at the small island so he could coax half the bagel and a few sips of coffee into him. 

They wound up in the living room after that, Buck’s need to be horizontal far greater than his need for the rest of the breakfast Tommy so sweetly prepared for him. Tommy shut the overhead lights off on the way in, just before he stopped to pull the curtains shut on his way to the couch. Buck’s chest ached beneath the pleasant weight of being loved like this. It still does now, as his head rests in Tommy’s lap and he announces that he can’t believe how hungover he is. 

“And yet I have no trouble believing it,” Tommy says dryly. 

Buck pouts. “I didn’t even drink that much.”

Tommy scoffs. Even when he does, it’s warm and fond and it doesn’t make Buck feel bad at all. In fact, it only makes him smile. “Sure you didn’t.”

Tommy strokes Buck’s cheek gently, his fingers trailing up until they reach the soft curls atop his head, loose and messy from a night of deep sleep. He runs a hand through Buck’s hair, soft and gentle in the same way Maddie always did when Buck was a kid and he didn’t feel well. 

He’s not six years old with the flu this time, and the hand in his hair isn’t that of his sister, but Buck still feels every bit as adored as he did back then. He could cry if he thinks about it too hard. 

“C’mon, I didn’t!”

“I could agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.” 

In Buck’s defense, the do-over bachelor party had been Chimney’s idea. Chimney’s idea that Buck took to immediately– he practically had the karaoke room booked before his next breath– but Chimney’s idea all the same. It was born out of Chim feeling so badly about missing the first one, despite everyone’s repeated insistence he wasn’t allowed to apologize for contracting a debilitating brain infection that nearly took his life. Though Buck likes to think that maybe, deep down, Chim wasn’t so opposed to the initial one as much as he led them to believe. 

And also in Buck’s defense, it was much more tame this time around. No hotel rooms were trashed, no doors were kicked in, and Eddie managed to keep his shirt on and intact the entire time. There was tequila, though. A lot of tequila. So much tequila that Buck can still taste it when he hiccups. Chim and Maddie were both there and Tommy wasn’t on call this time around, all of which instantly made it infinitely better than their first attempt. It was so much fun, the hangover’s worth it. 

Mostly. 

Buck sighs, closing his eyes as Tommy’s fingers card through his hair. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Well, you would know,” Tommy deadpans. 

Buck grins, shoving Tommy playfully. “Not hit. Crushed.”

Tommy hums. “Semantics.”

Buck’s grin is so wide he thinks it might split his face in two. He can’t help it, though. He just… he loves this. Loves Tommy. Loves that he has someone who doesn’t shy away from laughing with him about things like this, someone who doesn’t treat him with kid gloves. Someone who takes him home after a night out and puts his pajamas on when he’s too drunk to do it himself. Someone who holds him when he has the spins and kisses the spot behind his ear and murmurs “Love you,” just before sleep pulls him under. Someone who leaves water and ibuprofen on the nightstand and who runs his fingers through his hair and turns off the big light and closes the curtains for him.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up again, his head is still in Tommy’s lap, only now there’s a pillow beneath it. “Feel any better?” Tommy asks, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. Buck smiles at the thought of Tommy falling asleep beneath him. 

“No,” he says honestly. The pounding in his head is unrelenting, and he swears he can smell tequila in the layer of sweat that’s cooling beneath his now-damp t-shirt. “I think I’m dying. This is what death feels like.” 

He can feel Tommy’s laugh rumbling in his chest, warm and familiar. “This is a hangover in your thirties, baby.” 

“Same thing,” Buck mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut as Tommy dips his head down to press a kiss to the top of his head. As he drifts back to sleep, Tommy’s quiet laugh is the last thing he hears before sleep takes him.

prompt game

#prompt game #my writing #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #kinkley #buck x tommy

[kandlewick]

since its taking so long, im gonna drop a preview of my leona's ''i'll dry the villain's tears'....... this one is special because i unfortunately decided mid writing that i wanted it to be romantic but alas that means i had to scrap a lot of twst lore to fit my narrative hghfg so think of this one as an au to my usual entries. an interest check. these entries were MEANT to be strictly platonic but a few of them (leona, MAYBE azul and malleus (between lilia and the reader)), just gave me so many ideas.

SO IT IS UNFINISHED! its 4k words but still unresolved unless people like, want me to scrap twst lore as heavily as i did in this lmao

i'll dry the villain's tears pt. 3.1415926535897

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

all entries are USUALLY to be read as platonic however this one wouldn't go away. All are USUALLY meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game but this one is special because I love leona and he'd be so cool as a manwha love interest.

You awaken one day with perhaps the largest bump you've ever seen placed nearly perfectly center on your forehead. You don't remember how you got it exactly but the two princes never left your side (Falena would not stop crying and despite his claims of laughter at your expense, you can tell his brother was equally worried), only being dragged away by their tutor as soon as they let their guard down.

You looked down at the hands on your lap and clutched your fists open and closed over and over again. Gone were your long fingers and wide palms, instead you looked down at the chubby hands of a child no more than six.

From what your handmaiden had told you, the three of you had been playing spelldrive together and Leona, in his eagerness to best his brother, had shot the disk perhaps a bit too strong and instead of flying in to the goal, it had changed course and struck you hard enough to knock you unconscious for the rest of the early hours of the morning.

You remembered this event. It's what led to Falena's betrothed sticking closer to him and farther from Leona. What once was a well balanced trio had become a teeter totter with Falena and her on one side and Leona alone, unable to change anything with what little weight he had to offer.

Falena's betrothed; that was you. From the story you had read, the two were deeply in love and ruled the kingdom hand in hand towards a brighter future... all while unknowingly leaving the youngest brother in the shadows, forgotten and alone and desperate. You couldn't afford for that to happen.

You don't see the two of them until late that evening. Falena looked exhausted, like the tutoring had beaten any last bit of energy he could spare and with a loud yawn, had eagerly hopped into the cot next to you on your right. Leona was slow to join the two of you but settled himself to your left, his shoulder bumping yours as you turned to give him your attention, curiously returning the gesture. Leona matched your gaze, looking you over for any signs of pain before he opened his mouth.

"You look ridiculous," he spoke aloud, glancing at your bruised forehead. Subconsciously, you reached up and checked the tender spot and gave him an unimpressed look.

“I only look like this because you can’t shoot a disk right.” You huffed, choosing to ignore his presence, instead cuddling up to Falena who was more than eager to reciprocate, easily wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder and nudging your chin in a friendly hug. “At least your brother is being nice to me.”

However, despite your teasing voice, Falena was quick to come to his defense, “Leona’s just not good at showing he was worried about you. You should’ve seen his face when he saw you fall over, I’ve never seen him run that fast in his life.” Leona rolled his eyes but made no response as his brother laughed, choosing to settle himself in your cot while closing his eyes, his tail lazily curling up behind you. Your beastman tail - you don’t know when you would ever get used to that - sat itself besides his, curling the two into a gentle hold. Leona glanced over at you from the corner of his one opened eye but chose not to comment about it.

Even at your young age, you could tell that Leona communicated in a particular way. His words may be harsh, but his actions were tender.

“Mmm, someone had to.” Leona muttered, nuzzling himself deeper into the pillows, “Falena was too busy crying about you to be of any help.”

Falena made no effort to deny the claims and sheepishly smiled at you, “He is not wrong, haha. I was very worried for you! You should’ve seen the maid’s face when they saw you passed out in the field!” He reached out and plucked your hand into his. When you looked at him, you could still see the red dotting his eyes from how hard he had cried. It was no wonder your body’s original owner had fallen so head over heels for this boy. While he and Leona were brothers, they couldn’t have been more night and day. 

“You shouldn’t have worried too much, Falena! I’m fine, really. Kifaji said that I should be fine in a few days.” You waved his worry off with your hand, gingerly pressing the tips of your fingers against the small lump, “There wasn’t a concussion or anything but he wanted to make s- Hm?”

Falena and Leona both looked up at you with wide eyes, both of their gazes making you feel small. You slumped in your seat and blinked at the both of them, silently feeling sheepish all of a sudden, “Is something wrong?”

“Why are you calling me by my name!” Falena looked almost scandalized as he let go of you, his hands floating at your sides like he was too scared to touch you, “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“Eh? Eh?”

“Looks like I hit her a little too hard.” Leona chuckled, watching in barely contained amusement as his brother’s soul practically floated out of his chest, “What happened to calling him, ‘husband’?”

This body’s former owner was a precocious little child, wasn’t she!!! You couldn’t believe the audacity, calling your ten year old fiance ‘husband’!

As required of any royal belonging to the Sunset Savannah, you were expected to build lasting relations with other tribes and honorable guests much like any other adult and as such, other than the two royal siblings, you were given many playmates. Some were older than you and some were younger, but they were many and varied and always tried to stay on your good side. And as such, they were exceedingly worried about you when you arrived late to your most recent playdate with a freshly bandaged head.

“My liege, what happened!” the youngest cried, quickly latching on to your arm, tears welling up in his shiny eyes, “Are you alright? Does it hurt?” 

You waved them off with your hand, a soft but embarrassed smile on your face. Their eyes watered, their large elephant beastman ears flopping up and down wildly as they looked you over head to toe for any sign of injury. You could hear them loudly sniffling as they bit back tears. They’ve always been a bit of a crybaby from what your memories could tell you. A shy, but friendly young boy… if a little bit of a hypochondriac. One of your older playmates rolled her eyes but you could tell she was worried by the subtle way she refused to leave your side, glancing over at you from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t believe Prince Leona would do something as clumsy as hurting his brother’s fiance!” One of your newer playmates huffed loudly, her eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Really, he’s lucky his brother forgave him so fast - ah! You as well, it’s good you forgave him too!! He doesn’t deserve it if you asked me!” She huffed loudly as she played with your toys, her jaguar tail batting the floor loudly. She paid no mind to your two companions sounds of offense, instead choosing to meet your gaze from over her shoulder.

You blinked at her, your eyes wide in confusion. Your two other companions matched your expression, the two of them surprised she would dare to say anything like that outloud. Leona hadn’t meant to hit you after all! You were playing…

Your newest playmate, so new you could hardly remember her name scoffed at the three of you, obviously annoyed you didn’t join her in her thoughts. “For real, who does he think he is? He’s the second son, he should be bowing on his hands and knees at your feet! You’re the future king’s fiance, he should be grateful he’s even allowed to play with you two! W-”

You don’t know what came over you and why you did it, but you felt your body react to her words, and somehow, your fist made contact with her cheek sending her sprawling on the floor. The sound of her collapsing was loud enough to shock you out of your stupor, a dull ache throbbing around your knuckles. She looked up at you with wide eyes as she cradled her cheek, you staring down at her with equally large doe shaped eyes. You couldn’t believe you had just done that!

“Leona is my friend.” Your lips began moving before you could even think. You were firm on this even as tears began welling up in your eyes. Ah, you sighed. Even if your mind isn’t young, your body still is shaking like a leaf. The hand you had punched the child with quivered from nerves. “Dont - don’t speak that way about him!” Your voice raised in pitch, “His brother and I love him very much!”

The little girl bared her teeth at you, unwilling to take your actions lying down, “How can you say these things? He hurt you!” She hissed.

“It was an accident!” You matched her tone, the sadness quickly evaporating into anger, “Sometimes accidents happen when you’re playing! He’s good and kind and would never, ever hurt me! Ever!”

Your shouting was quick to alarm the servants stationed outside your playroom’s walls. Kifaji was the first one in, eyes sharp as he immediately separated you from the other children, stepping in the way with his back to you. “What is going on here?” He questioned. There was no room for nonsense in his expression and his words matched that as he gazed around the play area. The girl cradled her cheek as she glared at you, unwilling to speak up. She may have made the mistake of bad mouthing the second prince in the presence of other children, but she knew better than to say those words around another adult that wasn’t her own parent. Kifaji raised his brow at her silence before turning to your gorilla and elephant companions, silently questioning the two. They shrunk under his glare and made no move to open their mouths instead choosing to nervously shuffle closer to you. 

You tugged on Kifaji’s robes, the fabric soft between your trembling fingers. Glancing over at you, he leaned down and crouched to match your gaze. While his eyes were hard and strict, you could tell that he cared about you and the princes. He would listen to you. You could trust him.

“She was talking badly about Prince Leona…” You whispered to him, “so I punched her.”

Kifaji made a face, but nodded his head slowly. You hoped he understood. With a heavy sigh, he gathered up his robes and picked himself up.

“Come along,” He gestured to the girl, “Let us find your parents. I believe the playdate has come to an end.” and with a gentle hand, he helped her up as she began dabbing away at her eyes but not before shooting you a glare from over her shoulder. You stuck your tongue out at her. As soon as the adults exited the room, you quickly reached up and wiped away the tears staining your cheeks before returning to your friends, the mood sufficiently ruined for the rest of the play date.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Kifaji returned, a cross expression on his face. The guards at his sides were quick to disperse as he approached you, his robes billowing out behind him like colorful plumage. With practiced precision, he kneeled down to your eye level and reached out, bringing your small hands into his. His rough hands itched against your soft ones.

“What you did today could have ended very poorly, my liege.” He spoke softly, but his tone was firm, “You must remember, your position here in the palace is not final. If you cause too much of a ruckus…”

Was the king’s advisor really telling you to ignore this? That you should let Leona be bad mouthed by those in power? You were quick to glare at the older man, ripping your hands away from him and taking a few steps back, eager to separate the two of you.

“I’m not going to let people say whatever they want about Leona.”

Kifaji, shocked, stared for a moment before narrowing his eyes, “This is what I’m talking about, my liege. You are too quick to anger. You must calm yourself. I am not saying you must ignore the problem, but what I am trying to say is, your position in the palace as Falena’s future spouse, is not permanent.”

You hated to admit it but he had a point. You bit your lip but said nothing, cowed under his words. It was the truth. If you wanted to protect Leona, despite having the best intentions, you couldn’t exactly expect to have the sway as an adult. You were a child and easily replaceable. A glorified playmate.

“That is why, my liege,” Kifaji brought himself to his feet, dusting off his robe with a flick of a wrist, “you come to me.”

You turned and looked at him, not expecting the protective glint to his eye. He nodded his head before continuing.

“I will make sure that these things are handled correctly without repercussions. As the king’s advisor, I am not so easily replaceable.” He chuckled, fixing his glasses with a precise motion, “I will admit I am not as… in touch with the other servants in the palace and diplomats are always so careful with their words around me, it’s difficult to gauge their true intentions but with you, they will surely slip up and speak more plainly then perhaps they should.”

You stared up at the man in awe. You couldn’t believe your luck! Kifaji was taking your side and was going to actively help you in your quest to project Leona. Maybe before he was never given the opportunity, never had the time to set aside to investigate. Maybe he never knew. Now, however, he was given the chance with you to defend the prince. You very nearly teared up but were quick to wipe them away as Kifaji laughed, his hand reaching down to ruffle your hair affectionately. 

And so the two of you were quick to act, swiftly cutting contact with merchants and dignitaries that shared less than favorable feelings for the second prince. You and Kifaji would have monthly meetings together with snacks courtesy of the king and his wife as you spoke of matters in the palace. You had a special role, scouting out and spying on maids and soldiers that gossiped in the servant’s quarters. Nobody expected anything when you even brought in your two playmates, Magani and Akut (the gorilla and elephant beastmen respectively) to join in on the spying. This carried on for several years as you heavily vetted all coming through the palace all without letting Leona see the work you pulled behind the curtains. All the strings and wires were yours to control and you were going to make good use of the opportunities you were given. 

But, for some reason, Leona never seemed to want to leave your side. While you worked on your schooling, he would sit and while away the hours under the light of the sun from his favorite perch right beside your desk. Even in this life he was a lazy lion, preferring the quiet you brought then the loud personality of his elder brother. Sometimes you would join him on his naps, your tails quietly intertwining in a silent embrace. It was a comforting feeling. Moments like this were always a relief after the hours you and Falena had to spend together in your diplomacy lessons. A lot was expected of you as the future queen of Sunset Savanna. There were many late nights where you both stayed up till the crack of dawn together, stubbornly unwilling to give up with tears in your eyes as you studied until your vision blurred. It wasn't an uncommon sight for Kifaji to find the two of you bundled up together with books piled at your feet in the early hours of the morning.

Afternoon lunch dates with Falena and Leona were also rowdy and fun. While Falena was always quick to stay by your side and fight for your attention, Leona was seemingly content with letting your future husband monopolize your time. It wouldn’t be uncommon for Leona to doze off while Falena tried to do ‘couple-y’ things with you

It was all perfect.

Until Falena was accepted into the Royal Sword Academy. 

“You’re… breaking our engagement?” 

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader