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#the escapade household
irrewilderer · 4 months
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tagged by @gerbits for the 'Sweet Beginnings' thing.
This tag is all about looking at your past. All you need to do is to find one of the first screenshots you ever took (preferably also published), and post it beside the recent one! And tell everybody when you took that first picture! Oh, and don’t forget to tag your posts! #sweet beginnings tag
Had to dig deep to find some old stuff because I happily and unapologetically delete soooo much old shit/whatever doesn't 'bring me joy'.
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Here's some screenies from my Pudding Age save back in 2019 (soooOOooooo long ago). I posted it on a sideblog that no longer exists.
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Here's 2020 ^ Both from a sideblog that also no longer exist! Weee!!
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aaand those were taken today ^^ It's impossible to show an evolution in my pictures because, frankly, my reshade/edit choices change week-to-week. Much like with writing style, I switch-up my reshade/edit settings based on the story/vibe I'm going for, so it's all over the place all the time.
(sorry for the long post) tagging @radioactivespacebug @nitrozem @caffeinatedtrait @surely-sims @lilamausmaus (if you want) aaaand @cinamun. as usual, don't feel obligated!!
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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Things Simon Loves About You
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Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.
Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.
Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.
He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.
It’s still going on ‘til this day.
He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.
He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.
He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.
Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.
And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.
He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—
You see where this is going.
He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.
He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.
Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!
He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.
Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .
Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.
Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).
Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”
All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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shibaraki · 4 months
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HELD BY YOU, FELLED BY YOU ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO
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tags: GN reader, developing relationship, physical affection, touch starved shouto, loneliness, hugs + hand holding, fluff, only a little angst, obliviousness, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency
wc: 1.4K
series masterlist: 1/5
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It is 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon. The skies are grey, and the rain is so light it’s practically a wet fog. You have not touched Shouto in any meaningful way since Monday.
Before this week Shouto was certain that he must have been absorbed into a long-standing state of neutrality and apathy as a child. He didn’t long for anything, atleast, not in the way his friends claimed to. Whiny professions of loneliness, lamenting over romantic relationships and sex or lack thereof, dreamily recounting their passionate escapades. It didn’t appeal much to him.
Shouto had what he needed to survive—to live his day to day and climb the ranks without disruption, and it seemed that affection was not one of those things. The Todoroki household had never been particularly affectionate anyway. After his mother was admitted to the psychiatric hospital touch became less associated with comfort and happiness, and more of a thing to avoid altogether.
Shouto never actually voiced an aversion to touch. He held hands with crying children as he walked them back to their parents. He rubbed the backs of countless scared victims, he let them wrap around his arm and squeeze until his fingers grew numb. He offered his left side to elderly folk in the colder weather as they waited to be loaded into an ambulance.
But these small instances were always initiated by him, and his well-meaning friends decided to leave the ball in his court sometime during highschool. It never really left.
Until—
“Can I hug you?” you blurted. Your expression quickly twisted into a sheepish grimace. “You look like you could do with one, is all”.
At that moment Shouto had been sitting in the infirmary half covered in soot and picking out the bits of rubble that managed to get inside his suit’s ventilator. He stared up at you and wondered what that would even look like on himself, lifting a hand to feel his face and finding it relatively normal.
The sound of his heart flooded his ears and he frowned at the reaction. You weren’t a new friend by any means, but Shouto scarcely made new friends so you are newer than the others. You’ve never tried to be physically affectionate but he’s caught you gazing at him fondly sometimes, when you think he’s none the wiser, and he likes it.
Shouto nodded. Why, he doesn’t know. To quell your anxiety and get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he reasoned. Then your lips pulled into a soft, pleased smile, and he felt it like the sun on his face.
You stepped forward as though approaching some skittish animal. Shouto made no move to stand. He had only watched with trepidation as your hands lifted. A breath caught in his throat as they extended to rest on his sloped shoulders. “I’ll get you dirty,” he murmured dumbly in afterthought.
“That’s okay,” you replied, barely above a whisper. Your arms slipped around his back gently, and soon tightened to a secure hold when no objection came—there could be none, because the instant Shouto’s cheek pressed against your soft stomach, a rush of adrenaline speared through him and swept away all conscious thought.
To Shouto touch was like skipping a rock through the cavity in his chest; doing it only ever made its presence more obvious. But you cradled him there for what seemed like hours and he felt warm in ways he couldn’t articulate. Your fingers danced aimless patterns along the top of his spine, sometimes pausing to curl the wispy hair at his nape around them, and he sank.
True to his word, Shouto had dirtied your clothes. He apologised when you pulled away because it was all he could do not to whimper. You didn’t spare your shirt a glance—you just smiled at him again, and said you hoped it helped.
Helped? Helped?
The weight of your embrace had lingered for hours, cloven to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the memory before it became too obscure. Only now the memory hurt him to think about, and the pervasive ache for more intensified as the days passed.
Just this morning he’d wrapped his bedsheets tight and drew them around his shoulders to simulate that same feeling. Closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, picturing you there. Your sweet, purposeful touches. Your comforting scent. Your chest rising and falling. Your voice rumbling against his cheek. Heat filled his body, like you’d reached inside and turned the spigot of his heart.
It was mortifying. And exhilarating.
Shouto stuck his hand out from the shelter of the awning and let the rain lick at his fingers. Overturning his wrist, catching them on the shallow of his palm, he contemplates how he can get you to touch him again.
Last time you said he simply looked like he needed it. Too frustrating and vague, not to mention Shouto has been needing it all week. You could have meant his grimy post-battle appearance, but he didn’t really think this should warrant being thrown from another high rise building. Maybe he has to earn it this time.
You’re standing beside him, too preoccupied by the emails on your phone to notice his dilemma. Things have been fine. No awkwardness on your part, which he should probably be pleased about, but his mind keeps veering beyond rational conjecture. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. It all felt too one sided.
Shouto gives you a sidelong glance. You might be the only person he knows that can look alluring in the dreary afternoon light. With a sigh he lets his hand drop to his hip and wipes it on his dry suit.
Your thumbs move fast across the screen. “Sorry, Shouto. I promise I’m not ignoring you—just need to reply to this intern,” you tell him. “God, have I ever mentioned how much I hate the email software your agency uses? Because I do”.
He hums, “You have”.
Whatever you hear in his voice has you looking up. There’s a crease etched in your brow, expression open and apologetic. Your gaze flickers to the hand held to his front, where he’s working out the static in his knuckles.
“Are you cold?” you ask, pocketing your phone. It’s a silly question. He is a walking furnace. But Shouto is statuesque as you reach to cup his distinctly bigger hand with your own. Heat prickles under his skin. The staccato of his heart kicks up. You lean down to exhale a warm breath over his fingers, and stroke your thumb along the dips and peaks of his knuckles.
Shouto sends a mental apology to Kaminari for the halfhearted response he gave after a long, lovestruck monologue about his girlfriend’s hands. He thinks he gets it, now.
Your lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Better?” you scan his face and the smile falters. “Shit. Sorry, Shouto. I should’ve asked,” then you’re retreating again and—
He reflexively grabs your wrist. It’s a loose grip, enough for you to free yourself from. You pause. “No,” a puff of steam billows out from his mouth and he has enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. “…It’s fine. You don’t have to stop”.
Your concern dwindles into amusement as he wafts it away. “Alright,” you say placatingly. The tension alleviates, and when your fingers slip against his you immediately twine them together, taking the ache in his chest with it. “Is this ‘fine’ too?”
Shouto nods, not yet trusting his voice or his quirk.
“I wasn’t sure if I crossed any lines on Monday,” your eyes dipped to stare at the pavement as you continued. “I know you aren’t touchy feely like the others. They were… surprised when I mentioned the hug”.
“I didn’t think I was,” he swallows, flexing his fingers to squeeze your hand. “I liked it”.
You squeeze back, “You did?”
Shouto squeezes harder, and can’t stop the smile coming unbidden to his lips. “I did,” he says.
You meet his gaze. He’s pinned by that fond look you always try to hide from him. “Do you want another one, then?”
“But I didn’t do anything”.
A litany of emotion passes over your face at his response. There’s determination in the purse of your lips as you step into his space, entangled hands caught between your bodies. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your nose into the hollow where his jaw met his neck.
There’s a clumsiness to his movements as he follows your lead and slips his arm around your back. Head suddenly too heavy for his neck, he rests his cheek on your crown, melting into the embrace.
“You don’t need to earn my affection, Shouto. Not now and not ever”.
“Oh,” Shouto breathes. “I can just ask?”
“You can,” you laugh softly.
Why hadn’t he thought to just—ask. That is far more reasonable than being flung from another burning high rise.
“What?”
Ah. He pulls you further into his chest until you’re pressed together like the pages of a book. “Nothing”.
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rensblade · 3 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.
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⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩
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“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”
the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.
to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.
“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.
said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.
“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.
you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.
“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.
eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.
he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.
“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.
he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”
that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).
you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.
he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.
jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.
to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.
as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.
“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.
what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.
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rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3
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The Wedding Planners (M) ~Changbin
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Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy/Supernatural AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: Planning a wedding was way more stressful than Changbin could’ve ever expected. It seemed so easy at first, like all that was needed was to fulfil a checklist and call it a day, but he realised very quickly that there was a reason for the concept of bride and groomzilla to have been created. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series]. Warnings: mentions of arguments (but it's fine. this is all soft) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).
Author’s Note: this was originally going to be a drabble inspired by an ask that an anon sent. however, i felt like moving a bit of the story forward with it, so i upgraded it :^) hope you enjoy!
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of · The Wedding Planners.
Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv] · creampie · fingering [F.Rec] · oral [F.Rec] · cum-eating/snowballing
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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Planning a wedding was way more stressful than Changbin could’ve ever expected. It seemed so easy at first, like all that was needed was to fulfil a checklist and call it a day, but he realised very quickly that there was a reason for the concept of bride and groomzilla to have been created. 
Changbin was a perfectionist to a fault, and so were you. This combination was a recipe for disaster… ‘You want those flowers? Are you serious? Do you even want to get married?’, ‘That tablecloth fabric is atrocious, I can’t believe you’d choose such a thing!’, ‘If there aren’t exactly eight flowers in each table arrangement we can’t even call this a wedding’…
It didn’t matter who said what, both you and Changbin had become absolutely insufferable beings. Not only to each other, but to the people around you as well. Which was why, by the nth month of you both planning your wedding, you’d very smartly agreed to create a proper system, name your must-haves and your absolutely-nots, and to fully hand over all duties to a wedding planner, your bridesmaids, and his groomsmen–who had also agreed it was the best choice for everyone’s sanity.
It’d been the best decision you both could’ve taken, since petty arguments over locations and flowers and tablecloths were most certainly taking a toll in your household’s dynamic. 
Finally, after months, Changbin and you had returned to acting like your normal selves again, and he’d figured, what better way to celebrate this regained freedom than to take his beloved fiancé on an escapade to the mountains?
Changbin was a man of luxury, he was well aware of this. When it came to his loved ones, he spared nothing. So renting a cabin in the middle of the woods for five days and four nights was an insignificant expense when it meant he could spend all that time with you. A time where he wasn’t Changbin the engineer, nor the right hand of an Alpha wolf, nor the groom in a wedding that would soon take place…
It was a time solely reserved for him to be himself, for him to be your mate and fiancé, your future husband, and for you to be his future wife.
His wife…
Every time he thought about it, he felt giddy, he just had to admit it. 
It was just a title, of course. He didn’t love you any less when you were ‘just’ his girlfriend, nor would he love you any differently when you’d legally become his wife, but he still liked the way it sounded. Not only that, but you liked the way it sounded.
Every time he called you his wife, he could just hear the way your heart rate spiked, he could see the big smile on your face…
But, oh, boy… When you called him your husband?
Changbin always felt like he was the luckiest man in the world, like he was ready to run a marathon or become the next Ninja Warrior. 
You were mates, yes. You had mated long ago, and although he was very satisfied with this, the idea of being your husband did things to him. Maybe it was the fact that he spent a lot of his time surrounded by humans, but the prospect of being legally tied to you in their world made his heart swell in his chest.
When you’d arrived earlier than expected to the main lodge three days ago, you’d proudly told the receptionist that ‘My husband has made a reservation for one of your cabins. Do you know if it’s already available?’ he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, nor did he want to.
These three days had been absolutely amazing. You’d had the opportunity to go on runs through the woods together, to stuff yourselves full of delicious food, to have couple massages, and to huddle yourselves inside this cosy cabin to escape the outside world.
The fireplace radiated warmth, which was more than appreciated during these cold months. The gentle crackling produced by it was an immensely relaxing background noise. The fairy lights and many candles distributed throughout the cabin covered the inside of your little safe haven with the gentlest light, and, truly, this was probably the most relaxed Changbin had felt in months.
Especially now, when he could feel your nails digging on his forearms, when your delighted moans joined the sounds of your bodies colliding and the wood burning in the fireplace.
“B–Binnie, b–bunny, b–baby–” 
Oh, you were already dropping the Three Bs on him, and that only made him want to rail you more.
Yes, Changbin was usually the more submissive one in the bedroom, that was no secret to either of you, but sometimes, the alpha in him just wanted to satisfy you, just like the omega in you wanted to be satisfied…
Was there a better way to do that than to have you in a mating press right there by the fireplace? 
There just wasn’t.
“Hm?” He grasped at the soft faux-fur rug under you, trying to ground himself. If he focused too much on the vice-grip of your cunt, or the blissed-out expression on your face, he’d just come.
He was so fucking close… He’d been for a while now, but he was enjoying himself too much, he just needed to prolong this for as long as possible. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have you like this again later, on the contrary, he was sure he was going to, but he was horny and an idiot and you felt so good and the sound of the dainty ‘C’ charm on your anklet tinkling next to his ear was just so enticing…
“You’re so–Fuck…–you’re so good, b–baby…” Even if you were looking at him, your eyes had lost focus a long time ago. If he looked hard enough, he could’ve sworn your blown pupils had taken the shape of two cute little hearts. “I love you, love you…”
You repeated yourself over and over again, and Changbin couldn’t help but swear under his breath. He took your calves off of his shoulders and leaned into you so he could hold you close. With an arm under your neck and his forearm planted on the floor for stability, he resumed his steady pace. “Lo–love you, too… Love you, pup…”
Your quiet whimpers so close to his ear were bringing him to the edge at an alarming rate, and he was incapable of keeping his own moans in check with how aggressively his insides were burning up.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so, so, so fucking close…” He mumbled against your hair, speeding the movement of his hips and increasing the strength of his thrusts.
“Yes! Please, please come… Want–Binnie, I want your puppies so badly, please–!”
His brain fogged up immediately, and he started to feel dizzy. “Yeah? My wife wants to be full of my pups?”
“Fuck, yes!” You dug your nails on his buttocks, and the sting alone almost made him blow. “Please, please, my– my alpha, my husband–”
“Oh, shit–!”
An animalistic growl resonated throughout the small cabin when he came. The sound quickly turned into desperate moans as he kept fucking bucket-loads of his cum into your hole. He was too far gone, too overcome with pleasure and warmth.
He didn’t stop moving until your slick walls had milked every single drop he had to offer, and even then, he kept pumping himself into you, just to make sure…
Well, it wasn’t like you’d be getting pregnant, since your birth control had been very efficiently doing its job for months and months now, but his instincts didn’t care about that. All his inner wolf cared about was to try his best for it to stick.
It wasn’t until the mild sting of overstimulation started to settle in that he pulled his cock out, but swiftly replaced it with two of his fingers before he was moving down your body and attaching his lips to your puffy clit. 
Oh, how heavenly it felt when he had you in his mouth… When you grasped at his hair and started gasping because of his tongue. His ears were still ringing, and he was still dizzy, but he needed to make you come, too. He was dying to feel you clamp around his fingers and hear you moan his name over and over again.
“O–oh, Changbin, fuck–!”
More.
He needed more. 
Before he knew it, he was sucking and licking your clit like a starved man, fucking you with his fingers to stimulate that area within your walls that had your thighs trembling around his head and your grip on his hair tightening. 
And, of course, you gave him more. Every moan, every sigh, every whimper was either a pet name, or a version of his name, or just a sound of pure pleasure and he was on absolute cloud nine. 
“Bun–bunny, I’m coming–”
Changbin could barely perceive the sounds coming out of his throat. He’d been groaning and moaning against your folds since he’d settled camp here. But when your walls started fluttering deliciously around his fingers, you managed to pull another growl out of him, and your whole body just trembled in response.
He stopped lapping at your clit when you’d patted his head with a whine. Pulling out his fingers, he revelled in the creamy mix of your climaxes coating his digits. His eyes found yours before he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you bit on your bottom lip as a smile started to spread across your face. Changbin loved to see that twinkle in your eye, to hear your body’s responses to him and his actions. They always made him feel proud of himself, and like you were the only person in this world for him.
He supposed you were. 
Never had he romantically loved someone this much, and at this point, he didn’t want to love anyone else romantically like this ever again. For him, it was just you. Every day, he was reminded that he was ready to spend the rest of his life with you.
As soon as he noticed his cum starting to spill out of your cunt, he immediately started cleaning you up with his tongue. He made sure to collect as much as he could in his mouth before he pressed a final, tender kiss to your clit and made his way up your body again.
With a satisfied sigh and your fingers buried in his hair, you pulled him in, sealing your mouths in a sloppy, loving kiss that had his brain almost disintegrating in his skull.
Changbin let his weight fall on you, and you simply wrapped your limbs around his body and squeezed him tight.
As the kiss slowed down and turned to tender pecks, Changbin hummed, pleased. Not only because of the body-rocking orgasm he’d just had, but because he was just so incredibly in love with you.
When he pulled away and his eyes found yours, he couldn’t help but appreciate how the reflection of the fairy lights sparkled in your eyes. His cheeks heated up at the sight, and a small giggle escaped his mouth before he was pressing another brief kiss on your lips. 
“Y’know”, you mumbled, burying your fingers in his hair when he shuffled a bit so he could lay his head on your chest. “Coming here was an excellent idea”.
“Mmm… Of course. It was my idea”, Changbin laughed when you pulled on his hair at his comment, and pressed a kiss to your chest right after.
“Duh, what would we do without your huge brain, Bin”.
He pulled himself away from your chest and planted both hands next to your head to look down at you. “I don’t appreciate the hints of sarcasm in that sentence, puppy”.
He was, of course, joking. The splitting smile on his face was a great indicator of that. The comment made you chuckle.
“Me? Being sarcastic about these things? Never”, a smile tugged at your lips, and you brought your hands to hold his waist. “But seriously, though. I couldn’t even recognise myself the last few months… It’s been awful”.
“It really has been. I couldn’t recognise myself, either. I’m really happy we can be here together. It’s like our pre-honeymoon!”
“Oh, my God, the honeymoon…” You sighed dreamily, squeezing his sides. “We’re really gonna be gone for two whole weeks…”
“Mm. Two whole weeks of you, me, and all those tourist traps we’re gonna visit”.
“All those tourist traps we’re gonna visit as husband and wife”, you giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I can’t wait”.
“Me neither”, Changbin didn’t think he could smile any wider. The thought genuinely made him so, so happy, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain all these feelings within himself for long. “Anyway, how d’you feel about a warm bath?”
“That is another amazing idea for sure”, you chuckled, hanging onto Changbin with all of your limbs so he could stand up from the floor with you wrapped around him.
That warm bath was absolutely lovely. The way you caressed his hair and lovingly left trails of kisses on his face, arms, and shoulders had his heart swelling with adoration. Plus, getting to pamper you as well always left his inner wolf with a metaphorical wagging tail, so he stepped out of that bathroom feeling light, like he was walking on clouds.
With your bodies dry and fluffy robes over your frames, Changbin held onto you from behind as you both waddled back to the fireplace so you both could lay down again. 
He tried his best to choose a clean spot before he dropped a cushion on the floor for him to lay his head on, and pulled you into his arms. On the very first night here, you’d both mutually decided that you didn’t care about paying the extra cleaning fees for this rug…
Changbin exhaled a satisfied sigh once you had buried your face in his neck and hugged him close.
You inhaled deeply, almost dreamily, and the tender kiss you left on his pulse point had a small smile appearing on his face. 
“I really do love your scent…” You mumbled, letting your lips graze against his skin with every word. “I never thought I’d find so much comfort in an alpha’s scent. But yours is just so… ugh, I just looove it”.
Changbin could feel heat creep on his face, making him blush, and since words failed him, he just pressed a loud kiss on your forehead to show some appreciation for your words.
“I was thinking…” You mumbled after a while, cuddling closer to his side and draping a leg over his torso.
“Mm?”
“Y’know… About puppies…”
Changbin’s ears perked up, and his heart did a flip in his chest. “…Yeah?”
“D’you think Chris would have any problems if another couple in the pack had pups first?” You mumbled, tracing shapes with your index finger on his clothed chest.
What an interesting question… Would Chris have any problems with that? 
He was The Alpha of their pack, their leader, and tradition dictated that the alpha must be the first one to reproduce and bring pups to the pack. However… Chris wasn’t particularly traditional.
Chris had never really enforced anything on their packmates other than a few barely existing rules here and there, not only that but he had a human mate–yes, yes, he hadn’t claimed his girlfriend yet, but there was no doubt in Changbin’s mind that his dear best friend was going to do it at some point anyway. As far as Changbin had seen, having a human mate meant that their relationship would definitely go at a much slower pace than it’d go between werewolves.
Knowing Chris, and knowing his girlfriend, he was sure there wouldn’t be pups from them coming anytime soon. 
“Chris… I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind”, Changbin said after a while, caressing your hair. “I could be mistaken… To be honest, I’m not, but I could be, so it’s something you could always ask him if you’re curious… Why?”
You hummed in response, and remained silent for a bit. Your hand slipped into his robe, and the shapes you’d been tracing over the fluffy fabric were now leaving a fiery trace on the skin of his chest, right over his heart.
Puppies… Changbin had thought about puppies before. Years ago, he would’ve never imagined himself as a father. He was a wreck, he didn’t have the emotional maturity to care for a child in the way they needed. Back then, that was… Nowadays, though…
“Would you… would you like to try for puppies?”
Your voice startled him. It went through his eardrum and spread all over his body, reaching his heart to accelerate its pumping. Puppies… Your puppies…
Changbin pulled himself away from you a bit, enough so he could prop himself on his elbow and look you in the eyes. You were looking straight at him, but he could tell you were nervous about what you were asking, and he realised then that he’d been quiet for a bit too long.
“Yes”.
“Yes?” The shock in your voice almost made him laugh. Were you doubting it?
“Of fucking course, puppy. Have our own litter?” He was almost shaking with excitement at the thought. “It’s like a dream. Our puppies, you and I…”.
A bright smile made its way onto your face, and in no time, you had straddled his waist and started peppering kisses on his cheeks, making him giggle.
“Our puppies, you and I…” You repeated, just before you planted a loud, wet kiss on his lips. “It really does sound like a dream”.
Well, nowadays, Changbin believed he could be a parent, especially if it involved you.
It seemed like that honeymoon was not only gonna be spent as a husband and wife visiting tourist traps, but also mating like dogs until that dream became a reality. It was very clear that you were both absolutely looking forward to it.
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General Masterlist | Ko-Fi Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of · The Wedding Planners.
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writeroutoftime · 6 months
Text
flufftober day 4 - cinderella moment
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x reader
words: 0.7k
oOoOo
Your voice echoed in the empty hall as you mopped to the floor, humming a lovely tune to yourself. Though it had been days since you snuck away to the prince’s ball, you couldn’t stop your mind from replaying the evening over and over again. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined you spent all night dancing in the prince’s arms. To think, you were the envy of all the women there! 
Lost in your thoughts, you were oblivious to the sharp click of heels that accompanied your step-mother wherever she went. She took in your state with a scowl on her face before clearing her throat. “Quite a lovely tune for a lowly maid to know.” 
Gasping, you spun around and found your body suddenly frozen. “S-step-mother. Just something I must have overheard.” you stuttered. 
“Like at the prince’s ball?” she accused. “Oh yes, I know all about your escapades. How dare you defy my orders and sneak out.” she hissed, quickly closing the gaps between you. “You will never amount to anything, and the sooner you learn that the better.” 
“What did I do to make you hate me so?” you whispered, eyes blurry with tears. 
Instead of responding, she gripped your wrist tightly and dragged you through the house, up the stairs, and to your room in the attic - though calling the storage space a room would have been extremely generous. She threw you across the threshold, gripping the doorknob with a dangerous glare in your eye. 
“I will not have you ruin my daughters’ chance at becoming the prince’s wife. I don’t care if you managed to enchant him with some spell for an evening. This is your life, and you better get used to it.” she said, punctuating her statement by slamming the door and locking it behind her. 
Hurriedly, you ran to pull the handle, pounding against the wooden door when your efforts proved fruitless. You slumped against the door feeling lost and defeated. There were rumors the prince had begun a search across the kingdom for the maiden who captured his heart that evening, but you never imagined it would have been true. And now you would miss your chance to see him again. 
oOoOo
“Are there no other maidens in your household?” Benedict questioned, shoulders heavy with disappointment. 
However, before your step-mother could respond, you appeared at the top of the staircase, finding Benedict’s gaze immediately. Descending the stairs, you kept a tight grip on the railing not trusting your legs to keep you upright. You focused on Benedict, ignoring the shocked looks your step-mother and step-sisters gave you as you made your way to the prince. 
“Hello, miss.” he greeted, gently taking your bare hand in his gloved one and brushing a gentle kiss across your knuckles. 
“Your Highness.” you responded softly, unable to believe you were face to face with him again. 
A quiet chuckle left Benedict’s lips as he took in your form, a familiar spark as though he had known you his whole life. The glitz and glam might have been stripped away, but he had a good feeling about you. “Please, just Benedict is fine. If you don’t mind.” he offered, gesturing towards the nearby chair. 
Folding yourself into the chair, you clasped your hands together to try and stop their shaking. “Why thank you, ‘Just Benedict,’ but my name is y/n.” you teased as you removed one shoe. 
Benedict dropped to one knew and carefully produced the glass slipper that had adorned your foot early in the week. Though you knew the shoe was truly yours, you still felt nervous. The prince glanced up at you in question, and you could only nod your head in agreement. 
Time seemed to slow as Benedict reached forward and gently slipped the shoe onto your foot. It easily slid on and fit like a glove. Benedict’s grin overtook his features as he looked up at you again in awe. He hastily stood up and offered his hand, helping you to rise from the chair. 
“It’s you, truly.” he whispered. 
“It is.” you muttered, unsure of how to proceed. 
“I was afraid I would never see you again.” Benedict admitted, grasping both of your hands, as though he never wanted to let you go. “But here you are, though I must say, I am sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner.” 
All was forgiven in your mind as the start of your happily ever after began. “You found me eventually, and that’s all that matters.” you said, leaning forward to seal your future with a kiss. At last your prince had come. 
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callsigns-haze · 1 month
Text
Short love: Chp 1
The reconnection
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Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home. 
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Warning: Fluff, flirting
As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Bradshaw household, DJ and Stephanie made their way home from school, their stomachs rumbling in anticipation of the delicious dinner that awaited them. As they stepped through the front door, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of tomato cheesy pasta wafting from the kitchen.
"Wow, it smells amazing in here!" DJ exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she dropped her backpack by the door.
Stephanie nodded in agreement, her mouth already watering at the thought of Y/n's famous pasta. "I can't wait to dig in!"
As they entered the kitchen, they found Y/n standing at the stove, her sleeves rolled up and a look of concentration on her face as she stirred a pot of rich, tomatoey sauce.
"Hey, girls!" Y/n greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I'm just putting the finishing touches on dinner. I hope you're hungry!"
DJ and Stephanie nodded eagerly, their mouths watering at the sight of the bubbling pot of sauce. But their attention was quickly diverted to the highchair in the corner of the room, where baby Michelle sat, giggling and kicking her chubby legs with excitement.
"Look who's here to join us!" Y/n said, her voice filled with affection as she scooped Michelle up into her arms. "She's been keeping me company while I cook."
DJ and Stephanie cooed over their little sister, showering her with kisses and tickles as they caught up on each other's day. Michelle giggled with delight, her laughter filling the kitchen with joy.
As Y/n finished cooking the pasta and plated up steaming bowls for each of them, DJ and Stephanie set the table with eager anticipation. They couldn't wait to tuck into Y/n's homemade pasta, especially with the added bonus of baby Michelle's infectious laughter filling the air.
As they sat down to eat, the Bradshaw family shared a meal filled with laughter, love, and the comforting warmth of homemade food. And as they savored each bite of the delicious tomato cheesy pasta, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for these precious moments spent together with her nieces and baby Michelle.
As DJ and Stephanie eagerly tucked into their bowls of piping hot tomato cheesy pasta, their taste buds tingled with anticipation at the familiar flavors that Y/n's cooking never failed to deliver. The savory aroma filled the kitchen, creating an atmosphere of warmth and contentment as they savored each mouthful.
Between bites, they exchanged stories of their day at school, their laughter mingling with the clinking of forks against plates. DJ recounted a funny incident in math class, while Stephanie shared gossip about their friends' latest escapades.
Meanwhile, baby Michelle sat in her highchair, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as Y/n prepared another feeding for her. The little one cooed and giggled, her tiny hands reaching out eagerly as she waited for her next meal.
With practiced ease, Y/n fed Michelle spoonfuls of mashed vegetables, the baby's appetite seemingly insatiable as she eagerly gobbled up each bite. DJ and Stephanie couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight, their hearts swelling with love for their baby sister.
As the meal progressed, the kitchen filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation, a symphony of family bonding over a shared meal. Despite the chaos and busyness of their lives, moments like these reminded them of the importance of slowing down and cherishing the simple pleasures of togetherness.
And as they finished their meal, bellies full and hearts light, DJ and Stephanie couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that filled their home, making it truly a place where they belonged.
As the clock ticked, the aroma of lunch filled the Bradshaw household, mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Just as the girls were finishing up their sandwiches and Y/n was wiping Michelle's face clean from her messy lunch, the front door swung open, and Bradley stepped into the kitchen, a wide grin on his face.
"Hey, everybody!" Bradley announced, his voice filled with excitement. "Guess what? Bob and Jake will be here soon to move in!"
DJ and Stephanie's eyes widened with surprise and joy at the news. They exchanged eager glances, their excitement bubbling over at the thought of their uncles joining them under one roof again.
"No way! That's awesome, Dad!" DJ exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. "I can't wait to see them!"
Stephanie nodded enthusiastically, her smile matching her sister's. "Yeah, it's going to be so much fun having them back home!"
As the girls finished their lunches, Y/n swiftly cleaned up the kitchen, stacking plates and wiping down countertops with practiced efficiency. Meanwhile, baby Michelle sat in her highchair, babbling happily as Y/n gently wiped her face and removed her bib.
"It'll be great to have everyone together again," Y/n remarked, her tone warm and cheerful as she glanced over at Bradley.
Bradley nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting the anticipation building in the room. "Absolutely. The house is going to feel alive again with Bob and Jake around."
With excitement buzzing in the air, the Bradshaw family finished tidying up the kitchen, each member eagerly anticipating the arrival of their uncles. And as they waited for Bob and Jake to walk through the door, they couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and camaraderie that filled their home, making it a place of warmth and happiness.
With a chorus of excited voices, the family made their way to the front door as Jake's arrival drew near. Anticipation hung in the air like electricity, each member eagerly awaiting the reunion with their beloved uncle. As the door swung open, there stood Jake, his arms laden with luggage, a bright smile gracing his features.
"Hey, Bradshawitos!" Jake exclaimed, his voice filled with warmth as he stepped inside, greeted by hugs and cheers from his nieces.
"Daddy, Uncle Jake's here!" DJ squealed with delight, rushing forward to embrace him.
Stephanie followed suit, wrapping her arms around her uncle in a tight hug. "We missed you, Uncle Jake!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with happiness.
Bradley greeted Jake with a firm handshake and a warm smile. "Welcome back, Jakob," he said, his voice tinged with affection.
As Jake's gaze swept over the room, his eyes came to rest on Y/n, who stood by the doorway, a soft smile playing on her lips. Time seemed to stand still as they locked eyes, a moment of connection sparking between them.
"Y/n," Jake breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in her beauty, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest.
"Jakob," Y/n replied, her voice equally soft as she met his gaze, a hint of color rising to her cheeks.
Jake returned the sentiment, enveloping his nieces in a tight embrace before turning his attention to Y/n. "Well, if it isn't the lovely Y/n," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You're looking more beautiful than ever."
Y/n laughed, feeling a warmth spread through her at Jake's playful compliment. "Oh, stop it, Jake," she teased, playfully swatting his arm. "You're just saying that because you want me to cook for you."
Jake chuckled, his heart swelling with affection for his sisters friend. "Guilty as charged," he admitted with a grin.
In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of family, Jake couldn't help but feel a wave of emotion wash over him. As he looked at Y/n, he realized that he was falling, ever so slightly, in love with her. It was a feeling he couldn't deny, a spark of something special igniting within him.
As they stood there, caught in each other's gaze, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness. And as they shared a smile, Jake knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.
Lost in their moment of connection, Jake and Y/n's hearts beat in unison as they stood by the doorway, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of affection. But their blissful moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open once more.
"Hey, guys! I'm here!" Bob's exuberant voice filled the air as he entered the house, his arms laden with an armful of clothes.
Jake and Y/n quickly broke apart, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment as they turned to greet their friend. "Bob, hey!" Jake said, his voice slightly strained as he tried to regain his composure.
"Hey, Bob!" Y/n echoed, her tone cheerful but tinged with a hint of awkwardness.
As Robert made his way into the room, he stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him. "Whoa, did I interrupt something?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he dropped his load of clothes onto the nearest chair.
Jake and Y/n exchanged a sheepish glance, unable to suppress a nervous laugh at the situation. "No, no, of course not," Jake replied quickly, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.
"Yeah, we were just... uh... catching up," Y/n added, her cheeks matching Jake's in color as she tried to play it cool.
Bob raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he looked between the two of them. "Uh-huh, sure you were," he teased, his tone light and playful.
As the awkward moment passed, the three friends shared a laugh, the tension dissipating as they settled into the familiarity of their friendship. And as they gathered in the living room, surrounded by laughter and love, Jake and Y/n couldn't help but steal glances at each other, their hearts still racing from their brief moment of connection.
As the laughter subsided and the room filled with a comfortable ease, Bob busied himself with unpacking his belongings, his energetic chatter filling the air as he regaled Jake and Y/n with stories of his latest adventures.
Meanwhile, Jake and Y/n found themselves stealing glances at each other, their hearts still fluttering from the intimate moment they had shared. There was a newfound warmth in their interactions, a subtle shift in the air that spoke of unspoken feelings.
Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jake couldn't shake the memory of Y/n's smile, the way her eyes had sparkled in the soft light of the doorway. He found himself drawn to her, captivated by her beauty and grace in a way he had never experienced before.
And Y/n, too, couldn't deny the tug of attraction she felt towards Jake. There was something about him, something magnetic and irresistible that pulled at her heartstrings. She found herself yearning for more moments like the one they had shared, lost in the warmth of his gaze.
Just as the moment between Jake and Y/n seemed poised to deepen, Stephanie's voice chimed in from across the room, breaking the spell.
"Hey, Uncle Jake, can we play ballerinas?" Stephanie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she bounded over, her enthusiasm infectious.
Jake glanced at Y/n, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes as he realized their intimate moment had been interrupted once again. "Uh, Steph, maybe later, okay?" he replied, trying to gently sidestep the request.
Stephanie pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a classic display of disappointment. "But Uncle Jake, you promised we'd play today!" she protested, her eyes pleading.
Jake sighed, knowing he couldn't resist Stephanie's puppy-dog eyes for long. "Alright, alright, just give me a minute to catch my breath, okay?" he relented, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Stephanie's face lit up with delight, her disappointment quickly forgotten as she skipped off to gather her ballerina costume. "Yay! Thanks, Uncle Jake!" she exclaimed, her laughter filling the room.
Jake turned back to Y/n, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Looks like I'm off to be a ballerina," he joked, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
Y/n chuckled, her heart lighter at the playful banter between them. "I'll be sure to bring the camera," she teased, a playful glint in her eye.
And as Jake followed Stephanie into the living room, ready to embrace the role of reluctant ballerina, Y/n couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her at the thought of the fun and laughter that awaited them. Despite the interruption, she knew that moments like these were what made their family so special.
As the evening settled over the Bradshaw household, Y/n found herself on diaper duty, gently cooing to baby Michelle as she prepared to change her. The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light over the nursery, creating a cozy atmosphere as Y/n carefully laid Michelle down on the changing table.
Just as she was about to unfasten Michelle's diaper, Jake appeared in the doorway, a playful grin on his face. "Hey there, little munchkin," he greeted Michelle, his voice filled with affection as he leaned in to tickle her chubby cheeks.
Michelle giggled with delight at her uncle's antics, her laughter filling the room as she squirmed in Y/n's arms.
"Jake, you're going to distract her," Y/n chided gently, trying to suppress a smile at the sight of her niece's infectious laughter.
Jake turned to Y/n, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he flashed her a charming grin. "Oh, come on, Y/n, where's your sense of fun?" he teased, his tone light and playful.
Y/n rolled her eyes, unable to resist Jake's charismatic charm. "I have plenty of fun, thank you very much," she retorted, a playful glint in her eye.
Jake chuckled, his heart warming at the sight of Y/n's playful banter. "I know, I know," he replied, his tone softening as he met her gaze. "But there's nothing wrong with a little extra fun, right?"
Y/n couldn't help but laugh at Jake's persistence, her heart lightening at the warmth and affection that flowed between them. Despite the chaos of the moment, she found herself enjoying the playful interlude, grateful for the bond they shared as family.
And as they continued to banter and laugh together, surrounded by the gentle laughter of baby Michelle, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. In moments like these, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
As Y/n reached for the diaper bin, her foot caught on the edge of the rug, sending her stumbling forward. With a gasp, she braced herself for the inevitable crash, but before she could hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
In an instant, Y/n found herself cradled in Jake's arms, her heart racing as she looked up into his eyes. Their faces mere inches apart, she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
"Whoa there, Y/n/n, you okay?" Jake's voice was soft, filled with concern as he held her close, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress.
Y/n's cheeks flushed pink as she realized their close proximity, the sudden rush of adrenaline leaving her breathless. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jake's arms tightened around her, offering her support and comfort as he helped her regain her balance. Their bodies pressed together, the air around them thick with tension as they shared a fleeting moment of intimacy.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as Y/n gazed up at Jake, lost in the depths of his gaze. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of warmth and connection.
But just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, reality crashing back in as Y/n regained her footing. With a nervous laugh, she pulled away from Jake's embrace, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"Thanks, Jake," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she avoided his gaze.
Jake offered her a reassuring smile, his eyes gentle as he squeezed her hand. "Anytime, Y/n," he replied, his voice soft with understanding.
And as they stood there, surrounded by the gentle laughter of baby Michelle, Y/n couldn't help but feel a flutter of something stirring in her heart. In that brief, fleeting moment, she had felt closer to Jake than ever before, and she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them
With a soft smile, Y/n gently lifted Michelle into her arms, cradling her close as she carried her over to the crib. Michelle cooed softly, her tiny fingers grasping at the air as she snuggled into Y/n's embrace.
Jake watched from the doorway, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of Y/n and Michelle together. He couldn't help but admire the tenderness and care with which Y/n handled her niece, a warmth spreading through him at the sight.
As Y/n reached the crib, she carefully lowered Michelle down, tucking the soft blanket around her and placing her favorite teddy bear within reach. Michelle's eyes fluttered closed, her breathing slowing as she settled into a peaceful sleep.
Once Michelle was settled, Y/n turned to Jake with a gentle smile, her eyes shining with fondness. "She's such an angel when she's sleeping," she whispered, her voice filled with affection.
Jake nodded in agreement, his gaze soft as he watched Y/n tending to Michelle. "Yeah, she really is," he replied, his voice hushed as he marveled at the scene before him.
Together, they stood in silence for a moment, lost in the quiet beauty of the moment. And as they shared a glance, a silent understanding passed between them, a bond strengthening in the shared love they felt for Michelle.
With a final tender smile, Y/n reached for Michelle's favorite pacifier, gently placing it in her mouth before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, little one," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
And as they left the nursery, the warmth of the moment lingered in the air, a gentle reminder of the love and connection that bound them together as family.
As Y/n and Jake turned to leave the nursery, their minds still filled with the tender moment they had just shared, they failed to notice each other's proximity until it was too late. With an accidental collision, they bumped into each other at the doorway, causing them both to stumble back a step in surprise.
"Oops, sorry!" Jake exclaimed, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady Y/n.
Y/n laughed softly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected encounter. "No, my fault," she replied, her voice light with amusement as she regained her balance with Jake's help.
For a moment, they stood there, their eyes meeting in a shared moment of laughter and camaraderie. And in that brief instant, something shifted between them, a spark of connection that lingered in the air like electricity.
As they composed themselves and continued down the hallway, a subtle warmth settled over them, the memory of their accidental collision lingering in the air like a gentle reminder of the bond that tied them together. And as they walked side by side, Y/n couldn't help but feel a flutter of something stirring in her heart, a sense of possibility and promise that left her breathless with anticipation for what the future might hold.
As Y/n and Jake walked down the hallway, their conversation interrupted by their accidental collision, they were surprised to see Stephanie emerge from her room with a disgruntled expression on her face. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her brow was furrowed in frustration.
"Stephanie, what are you doing up?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed her niece's obvious displeasure.
Stephanie huffed, her frustration evident as she spoke. "I can't sleep," she grumbled. "And it's not fair that I have to share a room with DJ just because Uncle Jake took my room!"
Jake's eyes widened in realization as he remembered the recent rearrangement of rooms to accommodate his own move back into the house. "Oh, Steph, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were upset about the room situation," he said, his tone apologetic.
Stephanie's expression softened slightly at Jake's apology, but she still seemed reluctant to accept the change. "It's not fair," she muttered, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Y/n knelt down in front of Stephanie, her eyes filled with empathy. "I know it's not ideal, sweetie, but we'll figure something out, okay? We'll make sure everyone feels comfortable and happy," she reassured her, her voice gentle and soothing.
Stephanie nodded slowly, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes. "Okay," she said, her voice small but determined.
As Y/n stood back up, ake placed a comforting hand on Stephanie's shoulder, offering her a reassuring smile. "We'll work it out, Steph. I promise," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
With a sigh, Stephanie turned back towards her room, her mood slightly improved by the support of her family. As she disappeared behind the closed door, Y/n and Jake exchanged a knowing glance, silently resolving to make sure everyone felt included and valued in their shared home. And as they continued down the hallway, their hearts filled with determination to find a solution that would bring peace and harmony to their family.
Feeling the weight of Stephanie's disappointment lingering in the air, Jake turned to Y/n with a determined expression, his hand finding its way to her hip as he spoke softly. "I'll go talk to Stephanie, make sure she's alright and tuck her in. And then I'll swing by DJ's room to say goodnight," he promised, his voice filled with reassurance.
Y/n met Jake's gaze with a grateful smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you, Jake," she murmured, her voice soft with appreciation. "I'll check in on Michelle one more time and finish up a few things downstairs."
With a gentle squeeze of Y/n's hip, Jake turned and made his way towards Stephanie's room, his heart heavy with the desire to mend any hurt feelings. As he approached the closed door, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.
Inside Stephanie's room, Jake found her sitting on her bed, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness. He sat down beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.
"Hey, Steph," he began, his voice gentle. "I know it's tough having to share your room with DJ. But I promise, we'll figure something out, okay? You won't have to feel like you're missing out on your space."
Stephanie glanced up at Jake, her eyes searching his for sincerity. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, reassured by his words. "Thanks, Uncle Jake," she said, her voice soft with gratitude.
With a final squeeze of Stephanie's shoulder, Jake stood up, ready to fulfil his promise to check in on DJ. As he made his way to her bed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his role as a father figure to the Bradshaw girls, grateful for the opportunity to support and care for them as part of their loving family.
tagging: @callsign-magnolia @shanimallina87 @callsign-dexter @horseslovers2016 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @hookslove1592 @emma8895eb @hardballoonlove @kmc1989 @dempy @mamachasesmayhem @senawashere @buckysteveloki-me @sweetwhispersofchaos @itsmytimetoodream @jessicab1991 @ahh-chickens
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songbirdchris · 4 months
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bad boy, gone good / choi yeonjun
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Choi Yeonjun — the epitome of a bad boy, known for his rebellious attitude and mysterious charm. His days were filled with the thrill of breaking rules, and his nights echoed with the adrenaline of living life on the edge.
Enter Y/N, a beacon of warmth and kindness, with a heart untarnished by the city's harsh realities. Fate intervened, weaving their destinies together in unexpected ways. When Y/N, the girl with a smile that could brighten the darkest corners, collided with Yeonjun's world, everything changed.
As their worlds collided, secrets unfolded, and the walls Yeonjun had built around himself began to crumble. Y/N's presence sparked a transformation in him, challenging the very essence of his rebellious nature. Can love be the catalyst for change?
Yeonjun's early years were marred by the harsh realities of an unforgiving environment. Growing up on the fringes of the city's underbelly, he witnessed firsthand the struggle for survival. Raised in a broken home, where love was a scarce commodity and instability was the only constant, he learned to navigate the tumultuous seas of his youth alone.
Fuelled by a hunger for control in a world that seemed determined to wrest it away, Yeonjun delved into the realm of defiance. The streets became his sanctuary, a place where rules were mere suggestions and boundaries blurred into shades of rebellion. His demeanor transformed, adopting an air of defiance and a reputation that sent shivers through the city's spine.
The allure of the night, with its neon glow and hidden corners, became Yeonjun's playground. Graffiti-covered walls and the distant wail of sirens provided the soundtrack to his tumultuous existence. He embraced the role of a bad boy with open arms, finding solace in the chaos that mirrored the storm within.
Yet, beneath the tough exterior and the smirks that hinted at a disregard for authority, there lay a complex soul. A boy who had grown up too fast, who yearned for stability amid the turbulence of his surroundings. The bad boy persona was both armor and camouflage, shielding the vulnerabilities that lurked beneath the surface.
The memory of that encounter lingered, a pivotal moment where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life shifted. The streets, once witnesses to his rebellion, became a canvas for transformation. In the tapestry of his past, that cold night held a defining thread—a thread that hinted at a yearning for something beyond the confines of the city's chaos, a yearning that would eventually lead him to an unexpected encounter with warmth and kindness, the likes of which he had never known before.
Yeonjun found himself on the familiar concrete steps of an abandoned building, the remnants of shattered glass and graffiti-covered walls bearing witness to the desolation that mirrored his own existence. The city slept, but not Yeonjun. His restless spirit roamed the streets like a lone wolf searching for purpose.
As he sat there, contemplating the harsh truths of his life, the echoes of raised voices and slammed doors reverberated in his mind. Flashbacks of a tumultuous household, where love was a scarce commodity and stability a distant dream, played like a haunting melody.
That night marked the breaking point, the moment Yeonjun decided to escape the suffocating embrace of his turbulent home. The city's heartbeat became his guide, and he embraced the streets with an air of defiance, determined to carve out a space where he could breathe.
In current time, the night air was thick with the energy of rebellion as Yeonjun, accompanied by his fellow comrades in mischief, ventured into the heart of the city. The neon lights painted the streets with vibrant hues, reflecting the chaos and vibrancy that fueled their nightly escapades.
Yeonjun's friends each carrying their unique brand of defiance, joined him in this ritual of rebellion. Beomgyu, with his mischievous grin, Taehyun with an air of nonchalance, Soobin radiating quiet intensity, and Huening Kai exuding youthful exuberance—this band of brothers made the city their playground.
The night unfolded in a series of reckless adventures, a collage of moments that defined their camaraderie. They spray-painted walls with vibrant colors, leaving their mark on the city's canvas. The distant sound of music wafted through the air as they danced in abandoned alleyways, an impromptu celebration of freedom.
Yeonjun, the orchestrator of this nocturnal symphony, led his friends through the labyrinth of the urban jungle. They scaled fences, traversed rooftops, and embraced the thrill of the unknown. Each daring feat was met with laughter and shared glances that spoke volumes—a silent understanding that this night was a manifestation of their collective rebellion against the mundane.
Amid the chaos, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The city, once his refuge from a turbulent past, had transformed into a playground of shared adventures. Yet, there lingered a subtle shift in dynamics, an undercurrent of change that hinted at a journey beyond the recklessness.
As the night wore on, they found themselves perched on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city sprawled beneath them like a glittering tapestry. The collective laughter echoed in the silence that followed, and Yeonjun's gaze drifted to the horizon, where the first light of dawn painted the sky.
In that moment, surrounded by the camaraderie of friends who had become his chosen family, Yeonjun felt a subtle reassessment of his rebellious pursuits. The thrill of the night was undeniable, but there was a whisper of something more—a yearning for depth, for meaning, and perhaps, for a different kind of rebellion that extended beyond the shadows of the city.
As they descended from their lofty perch, the echoes of their nightly escapades still reverberating, Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this journey, shared with those who understood the language of rebellion, was on the cusp of a transformative chapter—one where the shadows of the past might find solace in the light of unexpected futures.
The night hung heavy with the scent of salt and the rhythmic lullaby of crashing waves as the boys of TXT gathered on the beach. The sand beneath their feet felt cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the day's rebellious escapades. The moon cast a gentle glow on the water, and the city's distant lights shimmered like distant stars.
As they settled into the makeshift circle they'd formed, the atmosphere was charged with a unique blend of camaraderie and introspection. The sound of the waves provided a natural soundtrack to the quiet moments, punctuated by occasional laughter that echoed against the vast expanse of the ocean.
Yeonjun, gazing at the horizon, broke the silence, his voice carrying a reflective tone. "You ever wonder where we'll be in a few years? What we'll be doing?"
The question lingered in the air, prompting thoughtful glances exchanged among the group. Soobin, the silent contemplator, spoke up, "I mean, we're living this wild life now, but what about the future? Are we just running from something or toward something?"
Beomgyu, who usually wore a carefree grin, chimed in, "Life's one big adventure, right? But what if we're missing out on something important along the way?"
Huening Kai, always the beacon of youthful energy, added, "I never thought about it like that. What if we're letting the thrill of the present distract us from the potential of the future?"
As the conversation deepened, the beach transformed into a confessional of sorts. Each member shared their aspirations, fears, and the weight of expectations they carried. The moonlit night became a canvas for vulnerability, and the camaraderie they'd built was the brush that painted the tapestry of their shared journey.
Taehyun, usually reserved, spoke softly, "Sometimes I wonder if the choices we make today will define who we become tomorrow. Are we building a foundation or just stacking up uncertainties?"
The vulnerability in his words hung in the air, and a collective sigh seemed to escape the group. Yeonjun, looking at each of his friends, felt a sense of gratitude for the shared vulnerability that turned their nightly escapade into a poignant moment of reflection.
In the quietude that followed, the waves continued their rhythmic dance, a reminder of the ever-flowing nature of time. The boys, surrounded by the serenity of the beach, found solace in the shared realization that life's journey was a delicate balance between the thrill of the present and the unknown promise of the future.
As they stood up to leave, the moon casting long shadows on the sand, there was a subtle shift in the air. The beach, once a backdrop for rebellion and laughter, had become a canvas for contemplation—a place where friendships deepened, and the echoes of the night lingered as a reminder that every choice, every adventure, held the potential to shape the narratives of their lives.
--
The morning sun painted hues of warmth across Seoul, casting a soft glow into Yeonjun's apartment. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, a lingering sense of introspection from the previous night clung to his thoughts. The beach conversations, the shared vulnerabilities—all echoed in his mind like a gentle reminder of the potential for change.
Yeonjun sat up, his gaze drifting to the cityscape outside his window. The morning held promise, a clean slate waiting to be written with new choices and perspectives. The weight of the past lingered, but the desire for transformation stirred within him.
A tentative resolution formed in his mind. "Maybe it's time for a change," he mused, the words carrying a whisper of determination. Yeonjun envisioned a different trajectory, one that embraced growth, stability, and a departure from the reckless patterns that had defined his life.
But as the day unfolded, the stressors of reality pressed upon him—deadlines, expectations, the constant hum of the city demanding attention. The allure of his old haunts, the familiar thrill of rebellion, seemed like an escape from the complexities of change.
In the face of mounting pressure, Yeonjun found himself retracing the steps of his past. The city welcomed him with open arms, the neon lights and graffiti-covered walls a comforting familiarity. The adrenaline of rebellion called out, promising a temporary respite from the weight of uncertainty.
Hours passed in a blur of graffiti, daring escapades, and the intoxicating thrill of defiance. The city's heartbeat matched the rhythm of his footsteps, and the echoes of the night played out like a familiar song. In the midst of chaos, Yeonjun sought solace, a fleeting escape from the internal conflict that tugged at his soul.
As the moon reclaimed the sky, Yeonjun, standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, felt a mix of emotions. The temporary euphoria of the night's escapades masked the underlying conflict within. The city's shadows, once a refuge, now mirrored the complexities of his own journey.
In the quiet hours before dawn, as the city slept and Yeonjun stood alone, the weight of his choices settled upon him. The desire for change, the yearning for a different path, clashed with the allure of the familiar. The morning sun would soon rise, and with it, the echoes of the night would fade into the reality of a new day—one where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life remained uncertain, hanging in the delicate balance between the past and the potential for a different, yet uncharted, future.
The night wore on, and the city's pulse beat steadily with the rhythm of rebellion. Yeonjun, still caught in the throes of his old habits, found himself stumbling into a dimly lit bar—a haven for those seeking refuge from the chaos outside. The air inside was thick with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the distant melodies of a live band.
As Yeonjun settled onto a barstool, the atmosphere of the place embraced him like an old friend. The bartender, a grizzled man with a weathered smile, poured a shot without needing a request. The amber liquid seemed to carry the weight of countless stories, each sip a silent acknowledgment of the night's tumult.
In the corner of the room, a spotlight illuminated a small stage where a singer crooned a soulful ballad, her voice a comforting melody in the midst of the cacophony. Yeonjun, lost in the ambiance, barely noticed the figure approaching him.
"Rough night?" A voice, tinged with empathy, cut through the ambient noise. Yeonjun looked up to find the hostess, Y/N, standing beside him, her eyes reflecting a curious mixture of concern and understanding.
He offered a half-smile, a gesture that held a hint of weariness. "You could say that. Just trying to escape for a bit."
Y/N nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken struggles that often brought people to the dim corners of the bar. "We all have our reasons for seeking refuge here."
As the night unfolded, the conversation between Yeonjun and Y/N flowed effortlessly. The clinking of glasses and the distant melodies became the backdrop to their exchange. Y/N, with a warmth that transcended the dimly lit surroundings, shared snippets of her own journey—the dreams she harbored, the challenges she faced, and the beauty she found in the small moments.
Yeonjun, typically guarded, felt a subtle vulnerability in her presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, transformed into a space for shared stories and connection. The weight of uncertainty, which had driven him to the familiar haunts of the city, seemed to momentarily lift.
As the clock ticked away, and the night began to wane, Yeonjun found himself captivated by the genuine nature of the conversation. In the midst of the city's chaos, he discovered a moment of respite and connection—one that hinted at the potential for a different kind of escape, one not rooted in rebellion, but in the shared understanding and warmth of unexpected connections.
As the night unfolded, and Y/N's laughter resonated in the air, a subtle shift occurred within Yeonjun. The dimly lit bar, once a refuge from the complexities of his world, now harbored the potential for something different—a connection that went beyond the neon-lit rebellious escapades.
In the midst of their conversation, a quiet realization dawned on him. Y/N's presence was more than just a temporary distraction; it was a gentle tug at the strings of his guarded heart. Her warmth, the sincerity in her eyes, and the authenticity with which she shared her stories created a bridge between their worlds.
As Y/N spoke about her dreams, her challenges, and the beauty she found in life's small moments, Yeonjun found himself drawn to more than just the words. It was the way her eyes sparkled with passion, the genuine laughter that danced through the air, and the subtle nuances of her expressions that etched themselves into his consciousness.
He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the chaos of the city outside and the serenity he felt in Y/N's presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, now unfolded as a tapestry of shared stories and unspoken connections. The music played on, a soft melody that underscored the intimate exchange between them.
In the quiet pauses between their words, Yeonjun's thoughts danced on the precipice of realization. He was attracted to more than just the allure of the city's shadows; he was drawn to the light that Y/N brought into his world. Her authenticity, the way she navigated life with a genuine spirit, resonated with a part of him that had long been buried beneath layers of rebellion.
As he stole glances, catching the subtle play of emotions on her face, Yeonjun acknowledged the stirring of something unfamiliar. It wasn't just attraction; it was a recognition of the potential for a connection that transcended the transient thrill of the night.
Yet, amid the subtle allure of this realization, uncertainty lingered. Yeonjun grappled with the juxtaposition of his rebellious nature and the yearning for something more profound. The night may have been a temporary escape, but in the presence of Y/N, he found himself confronting a truth that hinted at a different kind of escape—one rooted in the genuine connection and the uncharted territories of the heart.
The bar's ambiance hummed around them, the murmur of conversations and the soft melodies providing a comforting backdrop to Yeonjun and Y/N's shared connection. As they settled into a lull in the conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but steer the dialogue toward the uncharted territories of personal preferences.
"So, Y/N," he began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "what kind of guys are you into? Bad boys, perhaps?"
Y/N chuckled, a warmth in her expression that mirrored the sincerity in her words. "You know, Yeonjun, I've learned not to judge someone based on appearances or stereotypes. Whether they're a 'bad boy' or a 'good boy,' it doesn't matter to me. What's important is the connection, the compatibility. That's what makes someone attractive in my eyes."
Her words hung in the air, carrying a wisdom that transcended the casual banter. Yeonjun, caught off guard by the depth of her response, felt a subtle reassurance wash over him. It was as if Y/N's perspective lifted a weight he didn't realize he was carrying.
She continued, her gaze meeting his with a genuine sincerity, "People are so much more than the labels we give them. It's about understanding who they are, what they value, and finding that connection that goes beyond surface judgments."
Yeonjun nodded, a newfound appreciation for Y/N's perspective settling within him. The weight of his own self-imposed labels, the confines of being a "bad boy," felt a little less constricting in the face of her understanding.
"That's a refreshing way to look at things," he admitted, a genuine smile forming on his lips. "Sometimes, it's easy to get caught up in those labels and forget that there's so much more to a person."
Y/N's smile mirrored his own, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, the barriers of judgment and preconceived notions melted away, leaving room for a connection that went beyond the surface. The night continued, the ebb and flow of conversation carrying with it the promise of a connection built on authenticity and shared perspectives—something that felt, for both Yeonjun and Y/N, refreshingly real amid the transient thrill of the city's night.
--
A week had passed, and the bar that had become a refuge for Yeonjun seemed unusually devoid of Y/N's presence. Night after night, he found himself scanning the dimly lit space, hoping to catch a glimpse of her warm smile and engage in the conversations that had become a source of comfort.
However, fate seemed to play a coy game, and Y/N remained elusive. The absence of her laughter, the missing warmth in her eyes, left a void that echoed in the silent corners of Yeonjun's thoughts.
His friends, the members of TXT, couldn't help but notice the change in Yeonjun's demeanor. The usual twinkle in his eyes was replaced by a subtle hint of melancholy, and the playful banter that characterized his interactions with them took on a more subdued tone.
One evening, as they gathered in the living room of their shared space, Beomgyu couldn't resist teasing. "Hey, Yeonjun, what's with the long face? Did the bad boy finally meet his match?"
Taehyun chimed in with a sly grin, "Yeah, you've been looking a bit too contemplative lately. Is there a love story brewing in the shadows?"
Yeonjun, caught off guard by the sudden attention, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like that. I've just been trying to see Y/N at the bar, but she's never there when I am. She's a part-timer, and our schedules don't seem to align lately."
Soobin, always the voice of reason, leaned forward with a knowing smile. "Ah, the mysterious part-timer. Yeonjun's got a soft spot for her."
The room erupted in laughter, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes, his attempts to brush off the teasing met with playful persistence. Huening Kai, ever the optimist, added fuel to the fire. "Lover boy Yeonjun! Who would've thought?"
As the banter continued, Yeonjun found himself opening up to his friends about the connection he felt with Y/N. The laughter transformed into genuine curiosity as they listened to the subtle nuances of his encounters with her at the bar.
Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, declared, "Looks like our bad boy is turning into a romantic. Who would've seen that coming?"
--
As Yeonjun strolled through the bustling streets, the echoes of his friends' teasing still resonating in his mind, he found himself drawn to the familiar hustle and bustle of a nearby mall. The rhythmic hum of shoppers, the vibrant displays in store windows, and the scent of various cuisines mingled in the air.
Amid the crowd, a flash of familiarity caught his attention. There, across the bustling walkway, was Y/N. She navigated the mall with a sense of purpose, her presence standing out amidst the diverse sea of shoppers.
A rush of anticipation coursed through Yeonjun as he approached her. "Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise.
She turned, a surprised yet warm smile spreading across her face. "Yeonjun! What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"
He shrugged casually, the teasing banter from his friends still fresh in his mind. "Just taking a stroll, you know. Happened to stumble upon this place. What about you? Shopping spree?"
Y/N chuckled, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "Not really. Just running errands and grabbing a quick bite. Care to join me?"
As they walked together through the mall, the atmosphere shifted from the casual banter of their bar conversations to the lighthearted exchange one might expect from friends catching up. The city's chaos faded into the background as they explored the various stores and shared stories about their day.
Y/N's easygoing nature and the genuine connection they shared created a sense of comfort that transcended the initial allure of the night. As they reached a quaint café tucked away in a corner of the mall, Yeonjun found himself appreciating the simplicity of the moment—a chance encounter that felt like more than just a casual run-in.
As they sat, sipping on their drinks and exchanging stories, Yeonjun realized that sometimes, the most meaningful connections can be found in the unlikeliest of places. The mall, once a backdrop for the city's daily rhythm, became the setting for a different kind of encounter—one that hinted at the potential for a connection beyond the dimly lit corners of a bar or the playful banter of friends.
In that moment, as they shared laughter and conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of curiosity about the unfolding chapters of their connection—a connection that, like the city itself, held the promise of unexpected discoveries and the potential for something more than meets the eye.
As the conversation flowed and laughter echoed through the cozy café, Yeonjun felt a surge of courage welling up within him. The warmth of the moment, the genuine connection with Y/N, emboldened him to take a step beyond the casual encounters of the bar and mall.
Summoning the strength, he cleared his throat and, with a sheepish yet sincere smile, asked, "Hey, Y/N, I was thinking… would you mind if I got your number? Maybe we could hang out sometime, like, properly?"
Y/N's eyes twinkled with amusement, and a playful grin danced on her lips. "About time, Yeonjun. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever ask."
Embarrassed yet relieved, he chuckled, "Well, you know, bad boys gotta be careful with their tender hearts."
They exchanged numbers, the promise of a new connection etched in the digits on their screens. Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next day—a hangout that held the potential to explore the nuances of their connection beyond the confines of the city's night.
As they parted ways, the warmth of the cafe lingered in the air, and Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter marked a turning point. The city, with its chaotic rhythm and unexpected twists, seemed to be orchestrating a unique chapter in his life—one where a simple hangout held the potential to unravel layers of connection and redefine the narratives of his rebellious heart.
--
The next day dawned with the familiar energy of Seoul's bustling streets. The TXT members gathered in their shared space, a routine invitation to embark on their usual escapades hanging in the air. Soobin, the de facto planner of their adventures, couldn't help but extend the invitation.
"Hey, guys, what do you say we hit the usual spots today? Paint the town with our rebellious spirit?" Soobin suggested, a glint of excitement in his eyes.
However, Yeonjun, with a subtle smile playing on his lips, spoke up, "I think I'll pass today, guys. Got something else on my agenda."
A collective eyebrow raise from the group accompanied Soobin's teasing tone. "Oh, really? Got a hot date or something, lover boy?"
Yeonjun, unfazed, nodded with a smirk. "You could say that. Just something casual."
As he walked away, leaving a curious group of friends in his wake, the echoes of their laughter followed him. The playful teasing resonated through the space, and Soobin couldn't resist making one last comment before Yeonjun disappeared into his room.
"Looks like our bad boy has caught the love bug. Who would've thought?" Soobin quipped, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the remaining members.
In his room, Yeonjun couldn't help but smile at the banter of his friends. The usual rebellious pursuits were set aside for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the anticipation of a friendly hangout with Y/N. As he got ready for the day, he couldn't shake the feeling that this departure from their routine held the promise of something meaningful, a chapter in his life that unfolded beyond the city's night and the echoes of his rebellious past.
In the dimly lit corners of a Seoul nightclub, the atmosphere pulsed with energy, and the echoes of laughter and music filled the air. Yeonjun, known for his magnetic charm and carefree persona, moved through the crowd with an effortless swagger that drew attention like moths to a flame.
In this scene, we find ourselves in a moment from Yeonjun's past—a time when he was the quintessential heartbreaker, a playboy who reveled in the thrill of transient connections. His reputation preceded him, and many were lured by the enigma that surrounded him.
As he danced with someone new every night and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, there was a certain intoxication in the fleeting encounters and the admiration he received. The city's lights, reflecting in the eyes of those who sought his attention, seemed to validate the reckless pursuit of pleasure.
However, amid the dance floor's pulsating rhythm and the haze of nightlife, there were moments when Yeonjun, in the quiet solitude of his thoughts, felt a twinge of emptiness. The very charm that drew others to him became a barrier, shielding him from the depth of genuine connections.
The flashbacks are a montage of shared glances, whispered promises, and the ephemeral nature of his interactions. In each scene, we see glimpses of the playboy persona, the facade that hid a sense of hollowness.
Cut to the present day, and Yeonjun, as he prepares for a different kind of encounter with Y/N, finds himself dwelling on those moments of his past. The weight of his playboy reputation, the regret for the hearts he left in his wake, lingers in the recesses of his consciousness.
As he faces the present with a desire for meaningful connections, the echoes of his playboy days serve as a backdrop—a reminder of the journey that brought him to this point of reflection and the potential for growth and redemption.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city, Yeonjun and Y/N found themselves in the heart of Seoul, ready for a hangout that promised to be different from their usual encounters.
They decided to explore the city's hidden gems, away from the neon-lit corners and pulsating beats of the nightlife. The evening air carried a sense of anticipation as they strolled through quaint streets, exchanging stories and laughter.
Their connection, once confined to the dimly lit bar and the casual encounters of the mall, deepened in the midst of shared experiences. They discovered shared interests, laughed at each other's jokes, and engaged in conversations that flowed effortlessly.
As they explored a cozy café tucked away in a quiet alley, the ambiance echoed the genuine warmth of their connection. The clinking of coffee cups and the distant hum of the city formed a comforting backdrop to their shared moments.
In this setting, Yeonjun felt a departure from the playboy persona of his past. The genuine connection he sought, the desire for meaningful moments, unfolded in the simple yet profound exchange of stories and laughter. The city, once a playground for his rebellious pursuits, became a canvas for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the exploration of authentic connections and the unraveling of his own layers.
As the evening unfolded, Yeonjun couldn't help but appreciate the shift in dynamics. The heartbreaker of his past found solace in the simplicity of the present—a friendly hangout that held the potential for something more profound.
For Y/N, the night held a similar sentiment. The playful banter of their past encounters transformed into a shared understanding, and the laughter that echoed through the streets became a testament to the budding connection between two individuals navigating the complexities of their own journeys.
Amidst the soothing ambiance of the café, Yeonjun found a moment to open up to Y/N. The warmth of their connection had already surpassed the transient encounters of the past, and he felt a genuine desire to share his thoughts with her.
"Y/N," he began, his gaze sincere and vulnerable, "there's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I've been living this kind of… reckless life, you know? The playboy, heartbreaker image—it's not really who I want to be anymore."
Y/N listened attentively, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and encouragement. "It's never easy realizing you want to change, but it's a brave step to take," she replied, her voice gentle yet reassuring.
Yeonjun sighed, the weight of his past choices palpable in his words. "I've been concerned about where my current behaviors might lead me. I want something more meaningful, something that goes beyond the surface. I'm just not sure how to navigate it all."
Y/N offered a comforting smile, her words carrying a wisdom that resonated with empathy. "Change is a process, Yeonjun. It's about taking small steps, setting intentions, and being patient with yourself. You don't have to figure it all out at once. What matters is that you're aware of your desires for change and that you're willing to work towards it."
Her advice struck a chord with Yeonjun, a sense of gratitude swelling within him. "You're right. I don't have to rush things. It's just that… I've seen the consequences of my past actions, and I don't want to keep heading down that path."
Y/N nodded, her expression understanding. "Acknowledging that is the first step. And you're not alone in this journey. Surround yourself with people who support your growth, set realistic goals, and be kind to yourself along the way. Change takes time, but it's worth it if it aligns with the person you want to become."
As the conversation unfolded, Yeonjun felt a newfound sense of support and understanding. Y/N's words became a guiding light, illuminating a path towards self-discovery and growth. In her presence, he realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, offered not only the echoes of the past but also the potential for transformation and a future aligned with the authenticity he sought.
The shared laughter and conversations took on a deeper meaning. Yeonjun, grateful for the connection he found in Y/N, looked towards the future with a sense of hope and determination—a departure from the playboy heartbreaker, and a step towards the person he aspired to be.
As they parted ways that night, the promise of future hangouts lingered in the air. Yeonjun, reflecting on the evening's events, realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, was still full of surprises—a place where the echoes of his past were met with the potential for growth, connection, and the discovery of something more meaningful than the transient allure of his playboy days.
--
The night's gentle embrace lingered as Yeonjun returned home to the shared space where the members of TXT resided. The camaraderie of their friendship had weathered the storms of rebellion, and as he stepped through the door, he felt a sense of unity that encouraged him to share his thoughts with his friends.
Gathering the members in the living room, Yeonjun's expression held a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Hey, guys, there's something I've been thinking about. I've realized that maybe it's time for some changes in our lives, you know? Slowly, but surely."
The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the other members, each absorbed in their own contemplations, looked at Yeonjun with a mix of curiosity and support. Soobin, always the grounded leader, nodded encouragingly. "What kind of changes are you thinking, Yeonjun?"
Yeonjun took a deep breath before continuing, "I've been living a certain way, and it's been fun, but I can't help feeling like it's not sustainable. I want more from life, from our experiences. Maybe we can start making choices that lead to growth, connections, and something more meaningful."
The atmosphere in the room shifted, a shared understanding permeating the air. Beomgyu chimed in, "I've been feeling something similar. It's like we've been dancing to the same rhythm, and maybe it's time for a new tune."
Taehyun added with a thoughtful nod, "Change can be good, as long as we're doing it for the right reasons. What are you thinking, Yeonjun?"
Yeonjun, appreciative of the support from his friends, shared his reflections about wanting to shed the playboy image and embrace a more meaningful lifestyle. The room became a space for openness and vulnerability, each member contributing their thoughts and desires for change.
Soobin, with a reassuring smile, spoke, "I think it's a great idea. We've grown together, and this could be the next chapter for us. Let's support each other in making positive changes and explore the new possibilities that come our way."
As the conversation unfolded, the members of TXT found themselves in a collective agreement—a pact to embark on a journey of growth and change together. The echoes of their past, marked by rebellion and carefree pursuits, now harmonized with the potential for a future filled with genuine connections and meaningful experiences.
In that shared moment, surrounded by the support of true friends, Yeonjun felt a sense of relief and optimism for the transformative path that lay ahead—a departure from the old ways, and a step towards a future built on mutual support, understanding, and the enduring bonds of their friendship.
--
On Y/N's free day, Yeonjun took the initiative to introduce her to the members of TXT. The shared space buzzed with excitement as introductions were made, and Y/N's warm demeanor quickly endeared her to the group.
Yeonjun, ever the showman, decided to give a grand introduction. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet the fabulous Y/N, the one who's going to save us from our rebellious ways!"
Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, added, "The one who will turn us from bad boys to good guys. Or at least try."
Y/N, amused by the theatrics, curtsied playfully, "Well, hello, gentlemen. I'm here for the challenge!"
As they all sat down, the atmosphere shifted from grand introductions to more casual banter. Soobin, the group's natural leader, decided to break the ice with a friendly question. "So, Y/N, what brings you into the chaotic world of TXT?"
Y/N, with a twinkle in her eye, replied, "Oh, just felt like I needed a little more chaos in my life. Thought you guys could use some company."
The boys erupted into laughter, realizing they were in for a day full of unexpected surprises. Taehyun, always the observant one, couldn't help but comment, "I have a feeling we're in for an interesting time with you around."
The conversation continued with jokes, playful teasing, and Y/N effortlessly blending into the camaraderie of the group. Huening Kai, intrigued by the dynamic, chimed in with a humorous question, "So, Y/N, what's your superpower? How do you plan to tame the chaos?"
Y/N, with a mock-serious expression, replied, "Well, I have the incredible ability to turn rebellious boys into gentlemen with just a smile. It's a work in progress."
The boys burst into laughter, realizing that Y/N's presence brought not only a mission of positive change but also a healthy dose of humor and lightheartedness. Throughout the day, they discovered that Y/N's superpower wasn't just in her ability to suggest positive changes but also in her knack for turning even the most serious moments into opportunities for laughter and connection.
As the day unfolded, the shared jokes and funny anecdotes became the glue that bonded them together. Y/N, with her infectious laughter and playful spirit, seamlessly became a part of the group—a friend who not only saw the potential for positive change but also knew how to make the journey enjoyable along the way.
With a genuine smile, Y/N proposed, "How about we make today a day of trying new things? I've got a few activities in mind that might be a fun change of pace."
The boys, always up for an adventure, agreed enthusiastically. Throughout the day, Y/N curated a series of activities designed to replace their rebellious habits with more constructive and fulfilling pursuits.
She started with a visit to an art studio, encouraging them to channel their creativity onto canvases rather than expressing it through reckless actions. Beomgyu, who had a knack for artistic expression, found a new passion for painting, while Kai discovered the therapeutic benefits of sculpting.
Next, Y/N led them to a community garden, where they tried their hands at planting and nurturing flowers. The act of tending to living things replaced their destructive tendencies with a sense of responsibility and care. Soobin, who initially questioned the choice, found solace in the simplicity of gardening.
Lunchtime was an opportunity for Y/N to get to know each member on a personal level. She attentively listened to their individual goals and aspirations, taking note of every detail. Over meals, she subtly integrated conversations about healthier habits and positive lifestyle changes.
In the afternoon, they visited a local gym, where Y/N introduced them to various exercises and fitness routines. Taehyun, who enjoyed the adrenaline rush of rebellion, found a new outlet in the intensity of a workout. It became evident that Y/N had tailored each activity to address the unique interests and needs of each member.
As the day unfolded, Y/N's ability to understand and connect with the members became increasingly apparent. She acknowledged the little details, the personal goals, and the reactions to different activities. For Yeonjun, she suggested activities that channeled his energy into a constructive outlet, away from the reckless pursuits of the past.
The day ended with a cozy dinner where Y/N shared her observations and suggestions for positive changes. The members, initially skeptical, found themselves inspired by Y/N's thoughtful approach. The city, once a canvas for rebellion, became a space for growth, understanding, and the potential for a future built on healthier choices and genuine connections.
As they bid farewell to Y/N that evening, the members of TXT carried with them a newfound sense of optimism and the seeds of change that had been planted throughout the day—a departure from their old ways and a step towards a future filled with purpose, growth, and the unwavering support of a friend who saw the best in each of them.
Later, TXT gathered for dinner, the playful atmosphere lingered from the day's activities. Beomgyu, known for his mischievous side, couldn't resist the opportunity to stir things up a bit. A sly grin played on his lips as he exchanged knowing glances with the other members.
"So, guys," Beomgyu began, his tone deviously casual, "I've been thinking… Y/N is really cool, right?"
Taehyun and Soobin exchanged amused glances, fully aware of Beomgyu's mischievous intent. Huening Kai, always up for a bit of fun, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, she's pretty awesome. Don't you think, Yeonjun?"
Yeonjun, unsuspecting and caught up in the positive energy of the day, looked up from his plate. "Oh, definitely. Y/N is great."
Beomgyu, seizing the opportunity, leaned in with a mock-confessional tone. "You know, I was thinking… maybe I should ask her out."
The room fell into a sudden hush as everyone turned their attention to Beomgyu. Soobin, trying to suppress a smile, asked, "Really? Beomgyu, are you serious?"
Beomgyu, maintaining his poker face, nodded. "Yeah, she's just got this… I don't know, something about her. I can't help it. I think I'm falling for Y/N."
The words hung in the air, and Yeonjun's eyes widened in surprise. Beomgyu, relishing the moment, continued, "What do you think, Yeonjun? Should I go for it? I mean, you did say she's cool."
Yeonjun, caught off guard, stammered, "Uh, well, I mean, if you think you like her, go for it. It's not like I have a say in it."
The room erupted in laughter as Beomgyu revealed the prank. "Gotcha, Yeonjun! Just wanted to see your reaction. You should've seen your face!"
Yeonjun, a mix of relief and amusement, playfully rolled his eyes. "You guys are unbelievable. I can't believe you pulled a prank on me like that."
--
A year had passed since the transformative day when Y/N entered the lives of the members of TXT, bringing with her a mission of positive change and growth. Now, as they gathered in their shared space, the room resonated with a different energy—a sense of purpose, ambition, and the unwavering support of true friendship.
The boys had evolved into different versions of themselves, each actively working towards personal goals that reflected their newfound determination. Beomgyu, once the mischievous troublemaker, had channeled his creativity into a successful art venture. Taehyun, always the thoughtful one, had found fulfillment in pursuing a career aligned with his passion for helping others. Soobin, the natural leader, had taken on new responsibilities with grace and determination. Huening Kai and Yeonjun had both discovered their unique paths, each contributing to the overall growth and success of the group.
In the midst of these positive changes, Yeonjun and Y/N had found solace and strength in each other. Their connection had deepened over shared dreams, challenges, and a commitment to support each other's personal journeys. What started as a mission to change rebellious ways had transformed into a meaningful and loving relationship.
--
The night was calm, the city outside their window settling into a serene rhythm. Yeonjun and Y/N lay side by side in the dimly lit room, their conversations flowing seamlessly from one topic to another. The ambiance held a sense of tranquility, punctuated by shared laughter and the comforting hum of the city.
As they spoke about dreams, aspirations, and the little moments that had defined their journey together, the conversation naturally gravitated towards the topic that held a special place in both their hearts—their relationship. Yeonjun, with a sincerity in his voice, expressed, "You know, I never thought a simple mission to change our ways would lead to this. To us."
Y/N smiled, tracing patterns on Yeonjun's hand. "Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it? I wouldn't have it any other way."
They spoke of the challenges they had overcome, the growth they had experienced, and the unspoken understanding that bound them together. In the quiet of the night, their words became a shared journey—a testament to the depth of their connection.
As the conversation settled into a comfortable silence, Yeonjun leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, carrying the weight of shared experiences and the promise of many more to come. Pulling back, they exchanged smiles, their eyes reflecting a deep understanding that words couldn't fully capture.
With a tender embrace, they settled into the cozy cocoon of their shared bed. The city outside may have been alive with its own stories, but in that moment, the world narrowed down to the warmth of their shared space.
However, just as they began to drift into the quiet embrace of sleep, the door burst open with a bang. The room was suddenly filled with the blinding flashes of cameras, and confetti canons exploded, showering the room in a riot of colors. The members of TXT stormed in, each holding cameras and wearing mischievous grins.
"So, we heard you were having a moment," Beomgyu declared, camera in hand. "And what's better than capturing the lovebirds in their natural habitat?"
Yeonjun and Y/N, still recovering from the surprise, were met with the chaotic entrance of their friends. Soobin, Huening Kai, and Taehyun joined in the revelry, holding confetti canons and wearing party hats.
Beomgyu raised his camera, aiming it at the disheveled couple. "Say cheese! Or in this case, say 'sleepover!'"
The room echoed with laughter and playful protests as the unexpected sleepover took shape. Despite the intrusion, Yeonjun and Y/N couldn't help but join in the infectious energy. As the confetti settled around them, the room became a haven of shared laughter, friendship, and the enduring bonds that had blossomed amidst the chaos of their rebellious past.
And so, the night continued with impromptu celebrations, shared stories, and the kind of camaraderie that turned ordinary moments into cherished memories. The city outside may have slept, but in the shared apartment of TXT, the night was alive with the vibrant echoes of friendship and the warmth of a love that had blossomed against all odds.
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maccaronimassacre · 8 months
Text
New Resident Evil bots
Just finished another Detroit Become Human and another RE 8 playthrough (Definitely didn't cry again) and it gave me some inspiration for some more bots.
Android!Chris Redfield x Reader
You have just been deployed on a mission to stop the spread of B.O.Ws that have been created by the Umbrella corporation. Next to you is a RE500 unit known as Chris, an android sent to work alongside you during this mission. He looks at you curiously, his LED changing from blue to yellow as he looks you up and down. “I am detecting high levels of stress from you, {{user}}. Are you feeling nervous about this mission?” He looks at you blankly, waiting for a reply.
Chris Redfield x Reader
Your attention shifts away from the drink in your hand to the man who you’ve been stealing glances at all night approaching you. He sits beside you in the dimly lit bar. “Hey there, I couldn’t help but notice you were sat all alone so I thought I’d keep you company.” The man looks like he could tear you apart with his large frame and rugged look, but his smile seems so warm and inviting like a gentle breeze on a hot summers day. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Android!Ethan Winters x Reader
Despite your protests and constant arguments, your family decided to buy you an RE700 housekeeper android to quote on quote ‘Help you get your shit together’. You know that androids are quite common amongst households but you can’t help but find it mildly unsettling how life like they are. Especially with the way RE700 or ‘Ethan’ according to the CyberLife leaflet, is staring at you blankly as if waiting for you to give it some instructions.
Ethan Winters x Reader
A drink is placed in front of you, snapping you out of your daydream. You look at the drink curiously and give the bartender a quizzical look. ”It’s already been paid for by that guy over there.” They point to a man across the bar who is staring at you intently. His hazel eyes twinkle in the dim bar light as he nervously picks at a loose thread in his jeans. A light blush dusts his cheeks when you two lock eyes and he raises his drink, flashing a charming smile your way.
Tavern worker!Ethan Winters x Reader
When you step inside the tavern you’re greeted with the loud chatter of merchants and hunters alike, all sharing tales of their escapades and adventures over drinks. You make your way over to the front of the bar, spotting the barkeep who is listening to the conversations of patrons while serving up drinks. The barkeep’s eyes crinkle when he hears a particularly funny part of the story. His calloused hands wrap around the glass, tracing over every smooth edge as he meticulously cleans it.
Android!Leon Kennedy x Reader
You are sat at your desk, looking over the new reports that have been given to the police department when you notice the android staring at you blankly. You watch the LED on his right temple flicker to yellow as he looks at you, almost like it’s analysing you and your work station. You raise an eyebrow at him before remembering the lieutenant mentioning something about a new partner. Of course when your superior said partner you were expecting a human and not a machine.
Leon Kennedy x Reader
You catch his gaze from across the bar, ocean eyes flickering to yours while sipping his drink. His expression is almost unreadable with his hair falling in front of his right eye and his hands idly tracing the rim of the glass, but you can see a small smirk tug at his lips as the two of you continue to briefly lock eyes with one another. You can’t help but wonder if you should make the first move. Or should he be the one to do it?
Mercenaries!Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy x Reader
You continue to serve drinks and make small talk with the patrons at the bar when the door swings open, revealing two mercenaries with a bit of blood on their outfits. The pair walk up to the counter, taking a seat at the bar. They laugh and begin sharing stories of their escapades and bounties that they completed in the past. The bounty hunter waves you over to order a drink.
Resident Evil Bot Masterlist
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assortedseaglass · 6 months
Text
We Have This Hope - II
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Osferth x Lady-in-Waiting
[Masterlist]
Summary: Aefry heard much talk about young monk who joined Uhtred's ranks. When he rescues her lady, the King's own daughter, and appears at her door, Aefry finds her interest far from quelled. Instead, it is piqued tenfold.
Story Tags: Fluff, Slow Burn, Mentions of Violence, Strong Language, Religious Guilt, Smut
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In the days that followed Aethelflaed’s return, the city was awash with chatter about the rag-tag troupe of warrior men. Many had only heard tales of the men, of their leader’s clashes with the King, and of the brash Gael and stoic Dane that accompanied him wherever he went. Of the young monk that appeared at Aethelflaed’s door, however, Aefry knew nothing more than when they had first met. 
Indeed, such was the relief that Aethelflaed had returned, talk of Uhtred’s newest recruit, and his status as the King’s bastard, had dwindled from a simmer to little more than a stir. It wasn’t until a trip to the market, a day or so later, that Aefry heard mention of his name.
Since her return, Aethelflaed had spent much time in the company of her mother, and so Aefry and the other ladies were needed only when the King, Lady Aelswith or Aethelred were otherwise engaged. Saeflaed used her free days to visit her family. Adburh, whose own family lived in the very south of Wessex, spent her time at the market searching for threads and fabric fresh from the monastery. Aefry, with no family of her own, more often than not spent it in the meadows surrounding the castle, or else in a cabinet that Aethelflaed assured her no-one would use. This day however, Adburh insisted she didn’t want to be alone and so Aefry followed her into the stalls of the market.
It was full of the usual traders. Women selling dried herbs and woollen shawls, men flogging simple woodwork and crops. Adburh was her usual serious self, though Aefry was content to spend the day with her.
Many misunderstood her friend. Though she was only a few years older than Aefry and Saeflaed, Adburh had seen much in those years. Her hometown succumbed to fire, not by raiders but by mistake; the drunken keeper of the inn neglected the hearth and his fire spread from home to home, killing himself and many other, including Adburh’s father who slept in a drunken stupor. Homeless, she and her mother were taken into the care of a local abbey. Appalled by men’s idleness, the innkeeper’s and her husband’s, Adburh’s mother took the veil and committed herself to a life of religious servitude. Adburh, though her attitude suited it, was not inclined to become a nun like her mother. No, she spent her time sneaking from the abbey grounds to speak to those of the town, learning all she could from everyone she could. Sensing her daughter’s desire for education and worried about her continuing escapades, Adburh’s mother spoke to the abbess. Soon, they were Wintancaester bound, answering Lady Aelswith’s request for young women to attend her daughter.
Aefry wouldn’t forget the dark stare the red-headed Adburh gave her when they each entered the hall in turn before the King and his lady wife. Nor would she forget the way Adburh gripped her hand tightly when their guardians left them in the charge of the royal household.
Whereas Aefry had spent her time in the convent’s care reading or exploring the land surrounding Wintancaester, in the south, Adburh had learnt to weave. She arrived at court with few possessions, her makeshift loom and best needlework her pride and joy. Aefry watched her friend inspect the fabric from the monastery, a great fondness keeping her warm on the crisp morning.
“You have something in mind, Adburh?” Aefry watched her run her hands along some sheep’s wool.
“A cowl, perhaps. Or some hose.”
Aefry made a gentle noise of understanding and raised her eyebrows. “A cowl? With this wool?” She picked up the dark grey material. “Has the one you made last year perished? Or is it in fact for a dashing Dane-”
Adburh whipped around and covered Aefry’s mouth. “You saw what he wears. Winter approaches and he wears leathers with no sleeves and no scarf, cloak of fur to speak of.”
Aefry took Adburh’s hand from her mouth and held it. “I shan’t tell.”
“And not Saeflaed,”
“Certainly not Saeflaed,”  
Though Aefry was the youngest of Aethelflaed’s ladies, you would be mistaken in thinking it was Saeflaed. A golden-haired child of spring, buxom and bonny, she was admired wherever she went. That she too admired the men adoring her was not a point spoken amongst the friends and their lady, but was the source of great enjoyment and furtive glances between each.
It was not only Saeflaed’s womanly figure that delighted all, but her bright manner. Any room was illuminated by her smile, her countenance was warm, and she spoke freely and gaily to all. Where Adburh was serious, Saeflaed was merry. Adburh was studious, Saeflaed was flighty. Aefry wondered for a moment where that left her. A middling mixture of neither here nor there. Plain, she supposed.
Adburh suddenly gripped her arm. “Not a word, Aefry!”
“I told you I wouldn’t, Adbu-”
A golden mass of hair appeared between the two of them. “What have you there, Adburh?”
Adburh froze, for behind Saeflaed were Uhtred’s two right-hand men. The Gael and the Dane. Aefry raised herself on tiptoe, looking around the pair to see if the youngest of their party had joined them. Seeing that the monk was absent, she stilled, shame flushing her cheeks.
Adburh hastily stashed the wool in her basket and held it behind her back. Thankful of a distraction, Aefry took a step closer to her and took the basket from her hands.
“Wool,” she stated simply. “My winter shawl is tattered beyond fixing, and our mistress’s mother would have many an unkind word if she saw its state. Adburh kindly offered to make me a new one. Her skills are far greater than mine,” she added with a smile to the two men.
“You could make something for our boy,” the Gael said to Adburh, slapping the Dane on the back. He said nothing, yet the corners of his mouth twitching a little as he looked at the women. “Lord knows this will not help come Winterfylleth.” Sihtric shoved him.
“Y-y-yes.” Adburh nodded, her eyes wide as the Dane stared down at her.
“Aefry, Adburh,” Saeflaed stepped forward. “This is Finan and Sihtric.” Adburh curtsied a little awkwardly and Aefry held out her hand. Both men took it, Finan the Gael kissing it, Sihtric covering it with his own.
“Your reputations precede you, my lords.” Aefry smile gently. As Finan laughed, Aefry shuffled closer to Saeflaed. “And how did you come by these men?”
Saeflaed batted her beautiful eyelashes at Aefry. “I may have passed the tavern on my way home from father’s.”
“What a blessing,” Aefry whispered and Saeflaed giggled. Adburh’s eyes still lingered on Sihtric, though it seemed the Dane was either used to this or had not noticed. The three women turned back to the two men and Aefry found her voice again.
“Where is your companion? The monk?”
At that, Sihtric’s bicoloured eyes fell upon her. So too, did Adburh and Saeflaed’s. She swallowed, unnerved by the slightest degree. “You know Osferth?” The Dane said.
“No,” Aefry’s voice fell quiet, thinking fast so as not to expose the monk’s, nor Aethelflaed’s, secret. So as not to expose the King’s shame. “As I said, your reputations precede you.”
“The monk has been with us for all of five minutes and he already has a reputation to match ours,” Finan muttered.
“It was our Lady, actually, who told me,” Aefry was overwhelmed with the urge to defend the monk. To tell everyone what he had done. “That he was the one who killed Sigefrid.”
Adburh and Saeflaed gasped. “’Tis true,” Finan said. “Flung himself on the bastard’s back, forgive me, and drove his sword through his spine.”
Adburh gasped once again. Saeflaed took a step closer to Finan and held onto his arm, feigning faintness. Aefry, however, stared between them.
“How awful,” she whispered. “And-and-and where is he?”
“The chapel,” Sihtric said. “Every day since, he prays.”
“Poor lamb,” murmured Saeflaed, still clinging on to Finan’s arm.
“I know Uhtred has us teaching the monk,” Finan whispered to Sihtric, looking at the three worried women before them. “But perhaps he could teach us something?” The pair guffawed.
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For the rest of that day, and the next, Aefry looked in every chapel and church she could find.
Hurrying at first light to the keep’s chapel, she ducked her head past the great oak door to discover Father Beocca deep in conversation with the King. She curtsied, excused herself from the chapel and made her way to Lady Aelswith’s private sanctum. Aefry highly doubted she would find the monk there, but her curiosity still carried her feet to the private chapel. She was right.
Lady Aelswith was knelt at the small altar. She turned her head slowly as Aefry entered the dark room but said nothing.
“Forgive me, my Lady,” Aefry whispered, bowing her head. “I-I was looking for my mistress.”
“She is with her husband.” Aelswith said simply, turning back to the altar.
In the public chapel by the keep’s gates, only a few priests sat in prayer. Each old and greying, Aefry moved on. She even walked so far as Icene Abbey to discover Osferth’s whereabouts.
There, she searched every dark corner and pew. By the tabernacle and the apse. She even asked the abbot. At the mention of the monk’s name, the abbot’s face darkened.
“That young man abandoned his faith, and his benefactor’s wishes, to go galivanting with a heathen. You will not find him here.”
“I do not think he has abandoned his fai-”
“You will not find him here.” The abbot said again, and the conversation was at an end. Weary and defeated, Aefry trudged on tired feet back to Wintancaester, the sky turning from vein blue to flame orange. Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric were frequently seen about the city and the keep. If I wait, just a few more days, Aefry thought, perhaps he shall appear.  
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Sunnandaeg. In the public chapel a few days later, members of the King’s household made a small congregation, seated by rank from the farthest pew to the first. Everyone from servants to council members gathered in the chapel, waiting for mass to begin as the King and his family processed towards the altar.
Aefry watched Aethelflaed, her arm draped over that of her husband, glide towards her seat. Ever the image of regal duty despite her tired eyes. The congregation bowed to her mistress, some with kindness, some with pity and, as Aefry watched the royal family pass her by, her eyes fell to the man stood at the back of the chapel, eyes downcast but still standing a head above everyone else.
A thrill shot up her spine and every hair stood to excited attention.
At first, she thought he was attempting to make himself smaller to avoid the King. It was when Father Beocca began the service by invoking the cross, however, that she saw he was already in prayer, for he was the first to kneel and the first to murmur under his breath. He was alone, the rest of Uhtred’s men notably absent, and Aefry forgot her own prayers to watch him a peaceful moment.
Saeflaed, beside her, glanced at Aefry. Usually so devout, she was staring at the back of the chapel, the mass entirely forgotten. She followed her friend’s gaze and saw the strange young monk she had been so interested in the few days previous. He killed Sigefrid? Well, each to their own, and Saeflaed did not begrudge Aefry a crush. Indeed, it thrilled her to have something to tease her over. She glanced around the monk. Finan was nowhere to be seen and, with slight sadness, Saeflaed faced the altar once more.
Something bumped Aefry’s shoulder. Saeflaed, a small smirk on her rosebud lips. Aefry turned back to Father Beocca. She tried to follow the service, bowing her head when Beocca instructed and kneeling when the others knelt, but her mind was not on the Lord. No, it was on the lonely warrior monk five pews behind.
“Mass has ended, go in peace.” Father Beocca had barely finished speaking before the King turned to leave the chapel. Naturally, his mood in the days following Aethelflaed’s return had been stony, and many an hour had been spent locked in discussion with his council, to which he was no doubt returning. The congregation waited for the family to leave, and Aefry looked over her shoulder once more to watch the monk.
He was gone.
She cast her eyes desperately around, but they fooled her; many holy men of the congregation sported that ridiculous hair, but not one was her monk. Her monk. She shook herself and, with Adburh and Saeflaed, followed her mistress from the chapel.
The day was bright yet the air was damp and dewy. Rain would come before nightfall. She bade farewell to her companions and mistress, curtsied before the King and Lady Aelswith, and stepped into the morning. Like a fish through water, she moved amongst the crowd.
Priests were gathered around Father Beocca, discussing his sermon. She had thought to find him there, but she was wrong.
“Aefry?” Beocca stepped through the crowd of men. “You have not been at chapel as often of late. Are you well?” He took in her knitted eyebrows and agitated manner. The gentlewoman before him huffed a smile.
“Quite well, thank you, Father. I thought I saw someone at mass, an old friend, and am eager to find them. Excuse me,”
Onwards she went, past gossiping noble ladies, haggling merchants, and even Uhtred’s bonny-faced right hand man. Fingal? Was that his name? Still, she could not see the warrior monk and all hope of finding him faded. Jostled by commonfolk going about their daily business, Aefry turned to make her solemn way to the keep but halted where she stood. There! Towards the town stables, hands raised to avoid bumping into the crowds, that was definitely him.
“Sir,” she called out, gathering her skirts in her hands. “Sir! Please wait!”  She hurried as fast as she could, for ladies-in-waiting did not run and it would not do for such gossip to reach Lady Aelswith. Whether he ignored her intentionally or could not hear her over the din of the crowd, she did not know but pressed on regardless, thanking the Lord for his height as she kept him in her sight. A few more strides and she could reach out and touch him…
“Sir!” Breathless with the effort of her hurried steps to catch up with his strides, she reached out and clasped the edge of his cowl. “Sir-”
The man jolted and looked to his sleeve, his gaze following the delicate hand there to the lady’s face. An emotion she didn’t recognise glazed his eyes, but all the same, with a blush he smiled timidly. She dropped his sleeve.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I did call,”
“I’m not a ‘Sir’, I am-”
“‘Just Osferth’, yes.” Aefry smiled, then realised he may not recognise her, covered as she was by her Sunnandaeg veil. “We met the a few days past, when you came to my lady’s chamber?”
“Yes, yes,” the monk rasped and cleared his throat. After all he has done, she thought, and he is still shy. “Should you not be with her?”
“No, on the Lord’s Day we are left to do as we please.” She was desperate to speak with him. “My lady spends it with her mother.”
“I am glad to see she is well. Lady Aethelflaed, I mean-”
“Yes.” Neither said anything, and Just Osferth watched, torn between amusement and embarrassment, as the noble lady stood before him and directed her smile at him alone.
“Forgive me,” he said, his lips curving in one corner. “Was there some service you require of me, my Lady?”
It was Aefry’s turn to blush, and Just Osferth liked the sight of it beneath her veil. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I, um, I just wanted to say that she told me who you are, my Lady, and what you did.” She paused as the monk’s face fell. “That- that was very brave,” she finished with a whisper. The monk’s eyes fell to the ground and one hand brushed the cross at his chest.
“It didn’t feel very brave,” His voice was small, and Aefry found she wanted to see his smile again. She carried on in forceful tone. 
“To leave your life at the monastery, join the service of a famed warrior, despite the ridicule it may bring you, and then slay the brute Sigefrid? To me, that is brave.”
If Just Osferth had been pink before, at her words of praise he turned crimson. “Thank you, my Lady.” Again, they watched each other, this time in an awkward but pleasant silence. Something about this lady’s curiosity of him made the monk feel that emotion he found most elusive; pride.
“How long do you plan to stay in Wintanaester?” Aefry said, eyes alive and hopeful.
“As long as Lord Uhtred pleases.”
“Then,” Aefry’s smile was gentle as she spoke. “I hope it pleases him to stay a while.” And without another word, she bowed to the monk and departed.
He watched her go, her veil billowing against her tunic in the passing breeze, and people parting with good-natured smiles as she passed. A hand slapped him on the back.
“What’s the matter?” Compared to the lady’s, the Irishman’s brogue was like a carnyx. “Never had a pretty girl talk to you before?”
The monk swallowed, his eyes still on the retreating form of his sister’s lady-in-waiting. “I’ve certainly never had one bow to me.”
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Notes: I think there will be two more parts before this goes beyond the end of Steadfast & Forever. Thanks for the love recently and I’m sorry if I haven’t replied to anyone – it’s been a bit bonkers.
Cabinet = a small study
Winterfylleth = October
Tags: @arcielee @babyblue711 @elizarbell @chilling-in-my-head @skikikikiikhhjuuh @fan-goddess @sylas-the-grim @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @targaryenrealnessdarling @doomwhathouwilt @gemini-mama @myfandomprompts @bcon24 @humanpurposes @wise-owl @bookwyrmsblog
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the-halloween-jack · 5 months
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revenant -three
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PART THREE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,064k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >
Monsters consumed her entire world; Y/N thought of them every day and in every moment. She would watch people as she passed them on the street and wonder if they harboured any grim secrets; monsters were considerably more common than one would expect. However, there was a time when this was not the case. As a young girl, she never fully understood why her family moved from motel to motel, never finding a home to settle in. 
She and her brothers would stay in the shabby rooms, watching cartoons as their father disappeared for hours, only to return covered in grime and blood. Eventually, Dean joined in on these late-night escapades and soon after, Sam. They held hushed conversations over old-looking journals Y/N was never allowed to see. 
She had never known anything different; it came alongside her life of greasy diners and dingy mattresses.
However, she had always known that something was wrong. Even at a young age, she was bright enough to know that normal fathers did not teach their children how to wield knives and set traps. And they definitely did not pass their six-year-old children handguns. Her small hands and feeble arms barely able to hold on as it recoiled.
On the morning of her eleventh birthday, her father had taken her to an old friend, saying she needed a specific tattoo and that he would not ask questions. The young girl was shocked. Y/N knew this was not regular for kids her age; she supposed they were only for grownups. However, looking back, she recalled her brothers receiving them as well. Her father hushed and comforted her as she cried in his arms; the pain was like nothing she had ever experienced. When she drew back from his embrace, upon her upper left arm was now a star, enclosed by a circle of black, simple flames. Her father had told her that 'it was a small amount pain for a lifetime of protection from things that would hurt her'. She shuddered when she thought of what these 'things' might be. 
However, by her next birthday, she no longer had to wonder. Y/N would never forget the day she learnt about the frightening past-times of her family. It was a turning point in her life, something she could never change, no matter how many times since that moment she wished she could.
The tires of the Impala had rolled noisily over the gravel of the dimly lit car park. The motel's neon sign flickered, casting an eerie glow across its sleek, black metal as John Winchester pulled out onto the barren street. Inside the room, the air was palpable. Y/N remembered every detail of the night perfectly. The smell of old books and gun oil mingled with the acrid tang of old manchester. She recalled how the walls seemed to sag under the weight of time, the air thick with the scent of dampness and decay. She was supposed to be alseep as her adolescent brothers, Sam and Dean, sat hunched over a precarious table, staring fixedly at a map.
Across the room, Y/N lied on her side, back turned and clutching the pillow with white-knuckled fingers. Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at the peeling wallpaper of the motel, the thump of her pounding heart reaching her ears. 
Y/N Winchester, the youngest of the three, had always had a lingering suspicion that her family was disparate from that of a regular household. Their late-night departures and whispered conversations had all hinted at something dark, something they deliberately withheld from her. 
But as she listened to the low humming of their voices, her whole world had unravelled. Monsters, demons, and things ‘that went bump in the night’ were real. And her family hunted them.
Dean's voice broke, brueque and urgent, breaking her from her spiralling thoughts. 
‘We've got a lead on a group of vampires, Sammy. Pack your bags. We’ll leave in the morning.’ Sam nodded, his gaze fixed on the map. 
Y/N's breath hitched. Vampires? She had always believed they were creatures of folklore and myth, the subjects of peoples’ nightmares. But suddenly, the reality of this fact became true for her. Had she not seen her father carve out intricate stakes? And replace the bullets in his guns with wooden alternatives? She had been too young to give any of these details consideration. Though as Y/N lay in the bleak corner of the room, absorbing the information her brothers had unknowingly disclosed, she felt remarkably obtuse.
Y/N sat up and allowed her consciousness to become known to her brothers. 
Her voice had shaken, fear entwined between each syllable. ‘Vampires?’
She had wanted to say more, but her words caught in her throat. 
Both heads snapped up, surprise and shock corroding their features. Dean's eyes widened, and he exchanged a quick, concerned glance with Sam.
‘Y/N, you shouldn't be awake,’ Sam had said, his voice holding an edge of distress,
‘No, I need to know,’ Y/N insisted, her hands trembling. ‘What else don’t I know? Why do you do this?’
Dean sighed heavily, the weight of this fretful secret hardening his expression. The brother did not know how their father would react to their carelessness; she should not have found out like this. 
‘Sit down, Y/N. We'll explain.’
As they spoke and described the monsters of this sphere in great detail, Y/N listened, perturbed yet enthralled. Her childish, insular world expanded with each revelation; the bleakness that her family fought against was far more vast than she had any right to envisage. 
The creatures from her childhood nightmares were real; her father and brothers took it upon themselves to eradicate these fiends.
As days bled into nights, the Impala sped down highways and quiet country roads, carrying the Winchesters from one hunt to the next as it always had, only now, Y/N knew why. She observed and learned, engrossed in every piece of information they shared. 
Her father had attempted to teach her how to wield a gun many years prior, though he eventually gave up, her negligent demeanour discouraging. But with the threat of monsters now a burden upon her shoulders, Y/N reconsidered her juvenile disinterest and learned to fire a gun. She allowed the recoil to sting her palms until callouses formed. 
She memorised incantations, reciting them like a mantra to banish unwelcome spectres. Once a foreign language, the lore became familiar, etched into her memory like the back of her hand.
As weeks turned into months, which then rolled into years, Y/N’s alteration became undeniable; she was a hunter. 
Her knowledge was vast; her determination and resolve were unyielding. Yet, she would always be the neonate of the Winchester clan, never a hunter in her own right.
This fact was the catalyst for her departure to Mystic Falls.
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Y/N Winchester hardly believed that a single town could have such a vast history of misfortune; why did this small quaint community hold such an aptitude for catastrophe? Vampires, Witches and Werewolves were just a few of the creatures that Y/N was sure stalked the streets of Mystic Falls, and with all of the disasters claiming innocent lives, she was almost certain that the uncanny town had its fair share of ghosts as well. 
Over the decades, Mystic Falls' history bore witness to many tribulations. Tragedies were not at all uncommon for the abnormal town. Yet its reputation as a charming, radiant community still proceeded it. Y/N had to admit that maybe the council was more successful than she gave it credit for, only not successful enough for her hunters’ disposition.
She found it most curious that the Lockwood family, from what she could discern, had seemingly been cursed with lycanthropy for generations, and despite this, still participated in the council’s hunting of vampires. 
Y/N’s research led her to Civil Hall, which housed the incredibly grim and macabre Founder’s archives. 
Beginning in the early 19th century, the Founding Families, including the Salvatores, Lockwoods, Gilberts, Forbes, and Fells, laid the foundation for the thriving community of Mystic Falls. Their historical influence reverberated through the town's architecture, traditions and the very spirit that defined it. Y/N found that each family brought a unique facet to the tapestry of Mystic Falls. They built homes, a school, and a place of worship. As the seasons passed, Mystic Falls flourished, its streets lined with elms, its gardens ablaze with vibrant blossoms and the town square; a bustling hub of commerce and camaraderie.
Amidst this idyllic setting, the Founding Families recognized the coexistence of the supernatural world alongside their own, understanding that the existence of these paranormal fiends could not be known by the greater population. So they established the Town Council, set on eradicating these monsters from their picturesque town. Under their leadership and protection, the Council became the linchpin of Mystic Falls' unique social fabric. And although they attempted to cover the town’s dark secret with reports of ordinary things, it was a delicate balance and one that required vigilance and discretion. However, the holes in their stories did not go unnoticed by the young Winchester.
She had found that in 1864 during the Civil War, Confederate Soldiers had fired on Fell’s Church, believing the establishment had been harbouring weapons. Twenty-Seven people were killed. However, this report did not sit well with Y/N; its contents held many hallmarks of the recent ‘animal killings’. To the young hunter, it sounded like a coverup. 
Y/N travelled to the forsaken church nonetheless, bearing an EMF Meter and salt. She was unsurprised to find that the building held no signs of the odious spirits you would expect. Though, beneath its old withering structure, lay an abandoned tomb; Y/N shivered, wondering what had been inside it.
Y/N was sure to return to the archives in Civil Hall as there was too much to look at in one session. And upon her second trip, she uncovered something that left her feeling uneasy. In storage were artifacts from a heritage display recently held by the Founder’s Council; within said display was a registry listing the names of the guestlist for the original Founder’s event. 
The document had read,
'The Founding Families of Mystic Falls, Virginia welcome you to the inaugural Founders Council Celebration on this, the twenty-fourth of September in the year Eighteen Hundred and Sixty Four.'
Her gloved fingers skimmed down the old parchment until she reached a name written in an even, ornate scrawl. She felt her heart beating in her throat, 
'Damon Salvatore'
No, she thought, he couldn’t be…
She hollowly noted the name of his brother 'Stefan Salvatore' stetched onto the aged paper as well. Y/N, heart sinking, recalled her initial suspicion of Damon on the night they met; she had felt saddened by the idea of him being a monster. Though, she had quickly ridiculed these ideas as she learnt of his surname. Y/N dejectedly reminisced Caroline’s warnings, and suddenly, she heard them in a new light. 
'Y/N, he’s bad news; how many times do I have to tell you before the message sinks in?'
Y/N had thought Caroline’s dislike for Damon was due to some trivial gossip. Though was it possible her admonitions hinted at something much more sinister?
She shook her head as if trying to banish unwelcome thoughts; once again, she concluded that she must be overreacting. He hailed from a Founding Family; they did not take matters of the supernatural lightly. And besides, she had heard him talk of the animal killings with the sheriff herself. He could not be a vampire. 
Perhaps these people on the registry had been namesakes for the brothers? Surely, in a community that valued its heritage so much, it would not be unusual to be named for your late ancestors? And as a hunter, how could her instincts be so wrong? So out of touch? 
Y/N Winchester had not yet fallen in love with the blue-eyed man, though with each conversation and interaction, Y/N knew falling in love would be as easy as the phrase proposed; as effortless as falling down. 
No, she thought, this time more confident, he couldn’t be. 
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TAG LIST: @venomsvl
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lewmagoo · 1 year
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the bunny and the bull rider | rhett abbott
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description: in which absence makes the heart grow fonder
warnings: no sexual content but still 18+ only, brief mention of sex (rhett and reader do practice a dom/sub relationship outside of their cg dynamic but that relationship is NOT shown here) caregiver!rhett, age regression, slight angst with a happy ending, perry abbott (because he’s a warning in and of itself)
curious about what age regression is? go here
pairing: rhett abbott x afab!reader
notes: big thank you to @lovinglyeternal for putting me onto the rhett calling you ‘pumpkin seed’ agenda. also to @bradshawsbitch for helping me brainstorm for this piece. luh you babies 💓
Rhett had never known true peace until he met you. 
Peace was just something he never thought he’d find. Nor was it something he’d ever really experienced. The Abbott household was not a place of serenity. He had never felt at ease within those four walls a day in his life. 
He felt like he didn’t belong, like he didn’t have a purpose. His mother had her religion. His father had the land. Perry had his family. But Rhett? All Rhett had was bull riding. He had no identity or purpose outside of that. 
That is, until you walked into his life. 
It started gradually, at first. The realization that he was interested in you, and that you shared that interest. Asking you on your first date. Kissing you on your doorstep as he dropped you off for the night. But as time went on, his feelings for you grew. 
The fondness he had soon turned into love. And the realization that he loved you hit him like a ton of bricks to the chest. It sucked the breath out of his lungs and made his head spin. It nearly drove him to his knees. 
But that wasn’t what brought him to a place of peace. Of course, loving you did provide that for him. But there was something else. Something so special, so sacred, that only he was privy to. 
When you had initially brought up the concept of your age regression, you had been terrified. Not because Rhett scared you, because he didn’t. You felt so very safe around him. No, you were scared because you loved him so much and you were afraid he wouldn’t understand. Afraid he wouldn’t want to be with you any longer once he learned about this part of you. 
He had taken everything else well. When it came to your sexual escapades, he’d been on board with everything you’d thrown at him. You had begun developing a solid dominant and submissive relationship, and it was flourishing. 
But this was different. There was nothing sexual about your regression. It was pure and innocent. A way for you to let go of any and all stressors and reconnect with that childish part of yourself that you had repressed for far too long. Being forced to grow up too fast did that to a person. 
You had kept it hidden from Rhett. Not to keep secrets from him, but to protect yourself, because you knew your heart couldn’t handle losing him if he didn’t want to deal with your regression. 
However, you knew that you had to tell him. It was such a big part of who you were, and not being able to share it with him was doing more harm than good. So, one day you finally gathered up the courage to sit him down and talk it through. 
He didn’t react as you were explaining it. He simply listened very intently, his blue gaze trained on you, unwavering. And once you were finished with your explanation, he nodded thoughtfully. 
“And this is somethin’ that…helps you?” He asked, reiterating what you’d said. 
You nodded. “Yes. It’s a huge stress reliever,” you replied. “If…if this is a deal breaker for you, I understand. It’s a lot to take in.”
Rhett shook his head. “It ain’t a deal breaker. Far from it. I’ve never heard of regression before. But if it helps you then I’m willing to do whatever you need me to do. I’ll give it a shot, I don’t see what it could hurt. ‘sides, I already know I love takin’ care of you. I don’t see how this could be much different.” 
Just the fact that he was willing to try filled you with so much joy. All that anxiety you’d had about telling him melted away, replaced with a comforting warmth that blossomed in your chest. 
And that was how it began. Rhett assumed the role of your caregiver. It was rather adorable to witness. He was so concerned about doing the very best job he could. He had many questions, and even went as far as to write your answers down in a little composition pad he kept in the front pocket of his shirt. 
You explained everything in detail, and remained open and honest about what you needed from him. He pledged to take good care of you, and you had no doubt that he would. 
The first time you regressed with him was a wonderful, serene moment. You felt safe and at ease, and had no problem slipping into that little mindset. Rhett watched in awe, finding himself enamored. 
It was through becoming your caregiver that he found that long sought after peace. He realized that this was his purpose in life. Looking after you was what he was always meant to do. And once he came to that conclusion, everything else clicked into place. 
You developed a very deep, unshakable bond. A dynamic so full of love and care. You had never felt so safe and protected before. You could fully be yourself with Rhett and he never judged you. He allowed you to be as small as you needed, and he was always there to look out for you. 
He became the best caregiver you ever could’ve asked for. You were able to flourish as a little under his watchful eye. Gone were the days of hiding your regression. You allowed yourself to fully relax and trust in his tender, loving care. 
Along with that came a fierce protectiveness that Rhett felt toward you. He cherished your special dynamic, and he would move mountains just to make sure that you could safely regress. 
You knew you could call for him at any time, and he would rush to your aid. You tried your best to leave him be while he was working. But sometimes, there were days when you needed him. After you’d tried everything to soothe yourself, you would send him a text asking when he would be home. 
He always knew you were feeling little based on the amount of emojis you used. 
hiya daddy! i know you’re busy working but do you know when you’ll be home, perhaps? 🥺💓😚💞☺️💕
It didn’t matter what he was doing. When he got that notification, he would stop everything to answer. Rhett was not one to use emojis, but for you, he always made an exception. 
I’ll be home soon, pumpkin seed 😘❤️
And you would try your best to let it be. But if you knew you were slipping in a bad way, and you needed him to come and look after you, you would press him further. 
how soon? feeling real little in a bad way 🥺💓
That was all you had to say. If he was able to drop whatever he was doing in an instant, he would, assuring you he was on his way. To him, there was nothing more important than taking care of you. 
He would return to you and guide you through what you were feeling. And as you tearfully apologized for pulling him away from work, he would tell you not to “worry your pretty little head about it”, because he never wanted you to feel like a burden for needing his care. He had pledged to you that he would be the best caregiver he could be, and he intended to fulfill that promise. 
Up until this point, he had always been close by. Even when he was working, whether it be on your own property or on his parents’, he was always a text or a phone call away. You could access him whenever you needed him. 
But there soon came a moment in time when he had to be away from you. It was an unavoidable circumstance. There was an issue with a shipment of livestock, and he needed to head across state lines with his father to take care of it. 
Rhett wasn’t sure how long he would be gone. Since entering into this special relationship, you had never been apart for more than a day. The thought of leaving you made anxiety twist in his chest. 
It wasn’t that he thought you were incapable of taking care of yourself. He knew that when you needed to, you were more than able to make adult decisions and look after yourself. You were not an invalid. However, you had come to find such comfort in his care, and he was worried about leaving you all alone.  
He very gently brought it up to you when he got home that night. “Bunny…I need t’ talk to you,” he spoke up after you’d finished dinner. You were snuggled up on the couch with him, your feet resting in his lap, his large hand placed delicately over your ankles. 
Your eyes flickered to his, and you saw his serious expression. It made your stomach drop. “About what?” You softly asked. 
“I, uh, I found out I’ve gotta leave town for a bit. Dad’s got a new cattle shipment comin’ in and there’s a problem. He wants me to go with him tomorrow to deal with it.”
Your brow furrowed. “Okay. How long?” 
“I dunno. Could be a day or two. Could be a whole week. Just depends on how quickly we can resolve the issue. I really, really don’t wanna leave you. But I’ve got no choice.”
You nodded, chewing at your bottom lip thoughtfully. “It’s okay. I know you’ll be back as soon as you can.”
“I will. I just don’t like the thought of leavin’ you all alone. And I’d have ya stay with my ma and Amy, but somebody needs to be here to look after the property. Can you handle it? I don’t want you gettin’ overwhelmed and spiraling while I’m gone.” He knew you all too well. 
“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll just make a to do list so I can keep track of everything,” you replied with a hopeful smile. He could see that you were trying to remain positive for him. Truthfully, the idea of being all alone in this big house for days at a time was a little scary. You had your work, training horses, to occupy you, but there would still be those moments in which you were alone in your silence. It was daunting. 
But you didn’t want Rhett to worry. You could already see the concern in his eyes. He hated that he had to do this. If he could bring you along, he would. But he didn’t want you getting pulled into the mess. And he also knew that Royal would likely be pissed at Rhett for bringing his girlfriend on such a trip. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his father’s irritation. Besides, he knew you felt most comfortable at home. He didn’t want to pull you away from it unless it was absolutely necessary. 
“Y’ sure?” 
“I’m sure. I’ll miss you lots, but I’ll be fine,” you assured him. And you would be. 
He hummed, nodding his head. “I’ll have Perry check on you while I’m gone. Y’ know how he is, but he at least cares about your well-being. And if I put Amy onto it then she won’t leave her dad alone and he’ll have no choice but to bring her over here so she can say hi.”
You smiled at that. Rhett’s niece had grown quite fond of you, and you, her. She was always up for a trip to Uncle Rhett’s, mainly so she could see you and go on trail rides with you and Rhett. 
“Okay. I’ll be leavin’ tomorrow morning. I’ll get your breakfast ready and then I’ll be on my way. I’ll make sure everything’s in order before I do, though.”
You smiled, leaning in closer to him. “It’ll just be a few days, right? I can be a big girl for that long. I’ll make you so proud, Daddy.”
He mirrored your smile, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. “I know you will, punkin’ seed.” The nickname made you smile. His pronunciation of pumpkin was the cutest thing you’d ever heard, and you loved it when he called you that. 
It was settled then. Rhett would be leaving the next morning. In the meantime, he spent the evening getting everything ready. Packing a duffel of things he’d need, making a list of things for you to take care of so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed and forget what you needed to do, even going as far as to make you a couple jars of overnight oats so you’d have breakfast for the next few days and wouldn’t have to worry about making it. 
While he was downstairs getting everything ready, you took the time to secretly slip one of your rabbit stuffies into his bag, with a little note that said “bunny is always with you :)”. Bunny was another nickname he’d dubbed you, which he called you when you were feeling particularly little. You knew finding the bunny in his bag would bring a smile to his face. 
By the time he was finished getting everything situated, you’d already climbed into bed, and you were waiting for him, snuggled up in bed. That night, he held you close and whispered a made up story to you to help you drift off to sleep. And it seemed that all was well. You were prepared for him to leave the following day, and you were convinced that you could handle his absence. 
That is, until you woke up that morning, and it all spiraled out of control. 
You knew it was going to be difficult from the moment you opened your eyes. Rhett was already up and about, leaving you feeling particularly alone and small in the large bed you shared. For a frightening moment, you thought he’d already left without saying goodbye, and it set the tone for how the entire morning was going to go. 
You didn’t mean to panic. Really, you knew you were being irrational. But it hit you out of the blue, and you immediately sprang from the bed, rushing out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 
“Daddy?!” You called out, your tone slightly panicked. You stopped in the kitchen. He wasn’t there. You looked in the living room. It was empty. “Daddy!” Your voice was louder and more frantic now. 
Tears welled in your eyes, and a terrible sadness creeped into your chest. He’d really left without saying goodbye? The thought hurt more than you could describe, and in an instant, you began to cry. Hot tears burned their way down your cheeks, and soft sobs that caused your shoulders to tremble left your mouth. 
Little did you know that Rhett had only stepped outside for a moment to toss his bag in the truck. He was heading back to the house, planning to wake you up gently and sit with you while you ate your breakfast. However, when he stepped through the front door, he was met with the sound of crying. 
He was instantly on high alert, his feet carrying him right to the sound. He found you standing in the middle of the living room, sniffling and whimpering. 
“Hey, hey. What’s the matter, little bun?” He softly called. 
You gasped, whirling around to find him standing there. “D-Daddy,” you squeaked before you threw yourself into his arms. Through your sobs, he was able to make out the words, “I-I thought yo-you left without saying goodbye!” 
His arms tightened around you, and he hummed lowly. “Oh, baby. I’d never do that to you. Never, ever.” He pulled you back to look at your tearful face. “I’ll always say goodbye. No matter if I’m leavin’ for fifteen minutes, or fifteen days. Alright?”
Sniffling, you nodded. “Al-alright.”
He lovingly wiped your tears away. “I’m sorry I scared’ya. I didn’t think you’d wake up. Next time I’ll make sure you know where I am.”
You tearfully thanked him, and he pulled you back in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “C’mon, let’s get some food in you before I have to leave.”
He led you back to the kitchen, making sure you were seated at the table as he got your breakfast ready. You tried to remain upbeat, but after your initial moment of panic, you were feeling all wrong. 
You could feel yourself beginning to slip. All you wanted was to be little and have Daddy take care of you, but you knew he couldn’t. You needed to be a big girl and let him leave. But in this state of mind, you were only growing more upset. He was leaving and you were scared. Scared to be alone, in this great big house. Scared to sleep by yourself in the bed, and listen to the creeping nightlife outside. 
It came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Don’t leave me, Daddy! Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you wan’ me to!”
He was just setting down your plate in front of you when you said it. You gasped and placed your hand over your mouth. “Oh! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that,” you exclaimed. More tears welled in your eyes. 
Rhett took a breath before he knelt in front of you. “Sweet baby, you know I’d drop everything and stay with you instead if I could. It kills me to leave you, but I have to. I understand that you’re feelin’ scared and sad, but I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that?” 
Tearfully, you nodded. “I can. I can be a big girl. I’m sorry I said that. I know you’ve gotta leave, Daddy. I’m just really gonna miss you.”
He brushed a stray tear away from your cheek. You noticed his own eyes had grown misty. “You can be a big girl. How do I know that? Because you do it all the time. You show me everyday how brave you are by training those horses the way you do. So I just need you to keep bein’ brave like that until Daddy gets back.” 
You forced a smile. “I’ll be brave for you.”
“Atta bunny.” He tapped your nose. “Now eat your breakfast.”
You managed to pull yourself together long enough to eat your food, even though you weren’t particularly hungry. And by the time you were finished, it was time for Rhett to leave. 
He held you in his arms, standing in the entryway of your home, knowing that once he stepped over that threshold and headed down the porch steps, it would make the goodbye final. 
It wasn’t as if he was leaving for a long period of time, but because he’d never left you before, it was particularly hard. Especially because you were upset and he couldn’t fix it. He was always the one who kissed your tears away. Now he was the one inadvertently causing them, and it hurt like hell. 
“I’ll see you soon, punkin’ seed. I’ll text you when I’m on the road. And I’ll call you when I can.” He kissed your head before leaning in to kiss your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you replied in earnest. 
Then, with one more kiss to your forehead, Rhett was gone, slipping away and heading out the door. You stood in the doorway and waved until his truck disappeared down the lane. And then, you cried. 
But life had to go on. There were things to take care of. Horses to exercise. So, you dried your tears and threw yourself into your work. 
Ultimately, it was the only thing that got you through his absence. As it would turn out, Rhett ended up being gone for an entire week. His absence weighed heavily on you both, but you put on a brave face. 
You went about your normal chores, such as feeding the animals, tending to your flower garden, and working with the horses. Perry came over a few times during the week to tend to the landscape. Of course, he had Amy in tow. Her bubbly demeanor lifted your spirits, and you were happy for the distraction. 
She was the only good thing that had come out of Perry and Rebecca’s marriage. She was also the main reason Rhett chose to remain civil with his brother. His relationship with Perry was rocky at best, and had only grown more so in the last few years after Rebecca had disappeared. 
Rhett didn’t fully trust his brother. In fact, he’d even gone so far as to keep him at arm’s length around you specifically. He had his reasons for doing that. One of them being that he suspected that Perry was jealous. He’d lost Rebecca, and not long after, Rhett had found you. Perry would never admit it, but he deeply envied Rhett’s happiness, and almost resented him for it. Rhett knew what Perry was capable of. He was known for his blackout temper, which Rhett had been on the receiving end of many times growing up. And although the elder Abbott had never once directed any of that temper toward you, Rhett was still protective, and wanted to see to it that you never witnessed that rage. 
However, despite all of that, Rhett had entrusted him with checking in on you, or rather, the homestead, while he was gone. He figured his brother could at least handle that, because no matter what, he did know how to look after a ranch, thanks to his upbringing. 
Even so, Rhett knew Perry wouldn’t look after you the way he could. No one else could do that job. You had deemed only Rhett worthy of it, because he was the only man in the entire world that you felt truly, deeply safe with. 
And every second he was gone, you missed that safety more and more. You had grown so accustomed to his presence that being without him felt foreign, as if a very important part of yourself was missing. An entire limb. Half of your heart. Part of your soul. 
He texted you every morning and every night. He called you when he could. He was exhausted, you could tell. What should have been a quick trip had turned into an entire ordeal. It was a problem on the shipping company’s part, and Rhett and his father were shouldering the headache they’d caused. 
“I miss you so much, punkin’ seed,” he confessed to you one night, weariness evident in his voice. “Feel terrible that I’ve gotta be away from you for so long. Just wanna…just wanna hold you in my arms.”
You knew what he needed. He needed reassurance. There was a part of himself that was afraid. Afraid he’d lose you. And maybe it was indeed an irrational fear, but he couldn’t help it. Everyone before you had walked away from him. He knew you wouldn’t do such a thing, but he still carried that fear around from having his heart ripped out of his chest one too many times. 
He had never experienced a love like yours and the thought of losing that was unfathomable. It was a good thing you knew exactly how to soothe him. 
“I miss you too, Daddy. I’m here waiting for you to get back. I can’t wait to snuggle up with you and listen to you tell me all about your trip.”
He hummed lowly. “An’ I can’t wait to hear you tell me about all your big girl adventures. You been gettin’ along alright?”
“I have been. But it isn’t the same without you. The house feels empty. And I can’t be little because I don’t wanna do it without you here to look after me. So I’ve just been…hanging out.”
Rhett’s chest ached. He knew how much regressing helped you calm down when you were feeling anxious. The fact that you were unable to do it made him wish all the more that he could be there to help. “I’m hoping it’ll just be another day or two. Then I’ll be back home.”
“And I can’t wait. I miss my daddy.”
He hesitated for a moment before he said, “I know you can’t be little right now, but…would you like me to tell you a bedtime story to help you fall asleep?”
He knew all too well how uneasy you were at night, and the thought of his soothing voice detailing one of his notorious made up stories sounded wonderfully appealing. “Yes please.”
And so he did. You drifted off into a peaceful sleep to the sound of a love story about a horse trainer and a bull rider. 
The next few days were difficult. You missed Rhett terribly, and he was so busy that he barely had time to text you throughout the day. He was unable to call you one night, because by the time he had a free moment, it was much too late, and he knew you would already be asleep. Little did he know that you’d cried yourself to sleep because you missed him so. 
However, luckily for you, by the week’s end, he was finally coming home. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face when you received his text that he’d be home the very next morning. You were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Soon, everything would be as it should be. Your Rhett was returning home, where he belonged. 
In your excitement, you decided to clean the house and make everything sparkle so that he would have a clean house to come back to. He didn’t expect you to do that, of course, but you wanted to welcome him into a calming atmosphere after the tough week he’d had. 
You knew that once he returned, you would likely end up going into little space. So, while you were still feeling capable and big, you took the liberty of making his favorite for dinner ahead of time. 
By the time you tended to all your chores, visited the horses, made dinner, and cleaned the house, it was evening. And it was while you were setting the table that you saw the flash of headlights in the window, and you knew he was finally home. 
With a gasp, you dropped the fork you were holding, letting it clatter to the table as you made a dash for the front door. You flung it open and threw yourself outside, just as Rhett was climbing out of the truck. You ran at him at full speed, and he instantly dropped his duffel bag in the dirt before he met you halfway, catching you as you launched yourself into his arms. 
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” You exclaimed, giggling musically as he spun you around. 
He mirrored your laugh, squeezing you tightly to him. “Ohh, there’s my little punkin’ seed. Missed y’ so much,” he gushed.
You leaned back, reaching up to hold his face in your hands. “Missed you too!” You echoed. You let him bend to pick up his bag before you linked your arm with his and began to lead him up to the house. “I did so much while you were gone! Had so many big girl adventures! I fed all the chickens and got the eggs and I fed the cows and I taught some new things to the horses, and I planted new flowers! You have to see them, they’re so pretty!”
You babbled on and on about everything you had done as you led him into the house. Rhett just listened with a smile on his face, enamored with your enthusiasm. 
But as you made it into the house, you finally took a breath. “Oh! Here I am talking all about myself. How was the drive home?! Did you get all the issues sorted out with the shipment? Are you tired? You probably are and here I am just babbling on!”
When you looked at Rhett, he was grinning. He pulled you in close and kissed you on the top of the head. “God, I really did miss you, little bun.” 
You happily nuzzled into him. “I missed you too, Daddy. A whole lot.” Your voice wavered, and suddenly, you were overcome with emotion. 
When he saw the tears glimmering in your eyes, he hummed and pulled you in close, enveloping you in his strong arms. “You’re okay, little’n. Daddy’s here.”
Little’n. Yet another nickname of his for you. One that was so special and sweet. It made your heart sing. 
When you pulled back, he kissed your tears away, large hands holding your face. He smiled down at you, and you managed to return that smile. 
“I made dinner for you. Thought you might be hungry when you got back,” you murmured. 
“Really? You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. You always take such good care of me. I figured I could return the favor.”
Another kiss was pressed to the top of your head. “How’d I get so lucky to have ya?” He hugged you close again before he continued. “I’m gon’ go take a shower and wash all the grime off. I’ll be right back, punkin’ seed. Okay?”
“Okay,” you replied with a hum. 
He slipped away to head upstairs, and while he was in the shower, you got dinner on the table. You were so happy he was home that you had a smile on your face the entire time you got things prepped. 
By the time he was coming down the stairs, hair damp, dressed in sweats and an old rodeo t-shirt, you had everything ready. You beamed at him as he stepped into the kitchen, waiting eagerly at the table as he approached. 
He leaned down to kiss you before he took a seat across from you. “Looks real good, little’n. I’m starvin’. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
You gasped softly. “Oh! Well let’s eat before you waste away to nothing!” You exclaimed. 
So your dinner commenced. As you ate, Rhett filled you in on all that had taken place while he was away. You could tell how relieved he was to be home. The trip had been one headache after another, and the entire time he spoke, he kept reiterating how much he’d missed you and your tenderness. 
He held your hand across the table and told you how much he loved you. There was a sincerity burning brightly in his eyes, and it was so intense you had to fight the urge to avert your gaze. It hit you hard just how much he cared for you. You loved him equally as deep. 
“I’m sorry you had such a rough trip,” you sympathized. “But I’m happy you’re home safe.”
“Me too,” he replied. “Seems like you got in alright while I was gone.”
You shrugged. “I survived. But it wasn’t the same without my daddy.”
He lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “I’m so proud of you, punkin’ seed.”
His praise warmed you from the inside out, like a sip of a hot drink on a cold day. You hummed and melted on the spot, and Rhett smiled fondly at you. 
“Tell you what. I’m exhausted, and you’ve had a long week takin’ care of things on your own. What d’ya say we save cleaning up the kitchen for tomorrow and just spend the night with each other?”
You nodded happily. “And…I can be little?”
His eyes twinkled. “You can, if you wanna. Or, if you wanna be big, that’s okay too. Just as long as I get to spend time with my favorite gal, I’m all good.”
A strong sense of all-consuming relief began to wash over you. You felt tears welling in your eyes, and you nodded at him. “Wan’…wan’ be little.”
Watching Rhett morph into what you liked to call Daddy Mode was a sight to behold. It was as if he was slipping into a comfortable shirt that fit him like a glove. It was who he was always meant to be. 
“Alright then, little bun. I’ll put the dishes in the sink. Go get your jammies out and I’ll come up and help you get changed in a minute. 
You happily nodded. “Okay! And then can we color pictures? And watch Little Bear?”
“We can do anything you want.”
You gasped in delight, already beginning to feel as little as could be. “Thank you Daddy!” You stood from the table and stepped around it to plant a kiss on his cheek before you scurried off to go get ready for bed. 
You knew exactly what you wanted to wear. Rhett’s shirt always brought you comfort, and they were what you wore to bed more often than not. So you grabbed a clean one from the drawer, tossing it onto the bed before you grabbed a pair of underwear from your own drawer. Then you sat on the edge of the bed to patiently wait for him. 
You much preferred Rhett to help you get ready for bed. Especially after he’d been gone all week and you’d had to do it yourself. His presence was welcome. 
Moments later, he was stepping into the room, and he smiled at the sight of you patiently waiting. “Ready, bun?” He asked, and you eagerly nodded. 
He proceeded to help you change out of your clothes and into his shirt and your underwear. Once you were all set, he gently guided you to the bathroom, where you moved to sit upon the counter as he helped you brush your teeth. He stood before you and lovingly held your jaw in his big hand as he ran the toothbrush over your teeth. 
The action made you feel especially small, and by the time he was finished, you were in a state of complete relaxation, entirely floating in your moment of little space. “Atta bunny,” he praised with a kiss to your nose. “Ready to head back downstairs?”
“Yep!” You happily replied. 
He held out his hand and you placed yours in it, letting him help guide you off the counter before you happily followed him back downstairs. 
“Go get your coloring stuff, I’ll set up Little Bear on the TV,” Rhett instructed, his heart warming at your soft ‘okay Daddy!’ as you went. 
You quickly gathered your coloring supplies and then set them down on the coffee table as you plopped down right on the floor beside the table. But all of the sudden, you let out a gasp. 
“Oh no! I forgot to bring a stuffie down with me!” You exclaimed. 
Rhett glanced at you from where he’d been selecting the proper program on the TV. His face softened. “Don’t you worry about that, punkin’ seed. I got ya a little something while I was away that I think you’re gon’ love. Just gimme a minute to grab it.”
He pressed play on an episode of Little Bear before he quickly stepped over to the coat tree in the hallway, where he’d hung his jacket. He reached into his pocket and then pulled out a little stuffed horse. 
He his the stuffie behind his back as he strolled back into the living room. You’d already begun coloring a picture, which you looked up from at the sound of his footsteps. 
“Here you go, bunny.” He presented the small brown horse to you. It had a little white mark on its forehead, and white socks decorating its feet. 
“Oh!” You exclaimed, rushing to stand. You gently took it from Rhett’s hands and admired it before hugging the soft animal to your chest. “It’s perfect, Daddy.”
“I’m glad,” he said with a smile. His heart ached with love for you. Your happiness made the entire hellish week worth it. 
Then you launched yourself into his arms and whispered, “thank you, I luh you.” 
“I luh you too, little’n.”
Then you grabbed his hand and guided him to the sofa, where he sat as you got settled on the floor at his feet to resume your coloring. Little Bear played softly i the background as you colored a picture, with the intention of giving it to Rhett when you were finished. 
For the first time all week, you finally felt at ease. And so did he. He was able to slip right back into the role of being your caregiver, and it felt so good. He’d hated being away from you. It felt unnatural, almost, to be apart. 
For Rhett, it was a relief to be back in your presence. He would never speak it out loud, but that fear is abandonment had eaten at him all week, and even though he knew that you would be here to greet him when he returned, the irrational part of his brain still tried to suggest what if? What if he lost you? The thought was unfathomable. But thankfully, he didn’t have to fathom it. Because you were right here at his feet, coloring peacefully, so content to have him back with you. 
“Wan’ color with me, Daddy?” You suddenly asked, pulling him from his reverie. 
He hadn’t realized he was crying until he felt dampness in his own cheeks. He tried to wipe them away before you saw them and grew concerned, but you saw them anyway, and your face contorted into a look of concern. 
“Oh no! You’re crying!” You gasped. As Rhett slid down to sit beside you, you reached a hand out to wipe at his tears. “What’s wrong? Are you sad?”
You said it with such concern and reverence that it caused his heart to clench within his chest. “No, I’m not sad, little bun. Just…so happy to be back with you that it kinda got me cryin’ happy tears.”
Your own eyes began to shimmer. “Oh, Daddy,” you whispered. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close. “I’m happy too. Everything feels like it’s the way it’s supposed to be again.”
You left little kisses along his jaw and cheeks, soon causing his handsome face to break into a smile. “I love you more than words can say. You know that, right?”
“Mhm! I love you too! More than the moon and all the stars in the sky!” You kissed the side of his head as you hugged him close. “You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world!”
His arms tightened around you, and he let out a contented hum. Your love made his heart sing. “And you’re the best baby I ever could’ve asked for,” he echoed, leaning back to look into your face. 
Happily, you kissed his nose. “Now let’s color,” you urged. He couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness. 
You settled beside him and eagerly handed him a coloring book and placed your box of crayons between you both so he could use them too. You spent the rest of the evening coloring, happily showing Rhett your picture once you were finished, and announcing that you’d made it for him. 
“I love it, little bun,” he praised, admiring your work. “I’m gon’ put it on the fridge so I can look at it everyday.” 
Once you were tired of coloring, you climbed onto the couch, sleepily mumbling that you wanted to snuggle. Rhett gladly joined you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you as you rested your head on his chest. 
“I’m so happy you’re home, Daddy,” you murmured. 
He squeezed you a little tighter. “I’m happy to be home, punkin’ seed.”
You felt yourself relax fully against him, safe and content in his arms. Now that he was home, all was right with the world. You felt whole, as if the half that had been missing from your heart was finally back where it belonged. 
As you slipped off into dreamland in his arms, you heard him softly say, “I love you more than life itself, little bun. Don’t you ever forget that.”
He didn’t ever want to leave you again. However, he knew full well that there would come times that leaving you was unavoidable. But he knew behind a shadow of a doubt that it would only make each reunion that much sweeter. And he also knew that no matter what, you would always be waiting for him when he returned. 
-
tagging:
@damrlova @briseisgone @cosmic-psychickitty @laluneveillesureux @uhmellamoanna @imjustchristina @rhettabbotts @gohnspants @sebsxphia @emofairyprincessofarkansas
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The Burb Household
Spring, Year 1
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John donned his barista apron with the flair of a caped crusader off to fight the decaffeinated woes of Pleasantview. Meanwhile, with the punctuality of a seasoned commuter, Lucy made her daily beeline for the bus, her backpack a treasure trove of school-day essentials and secret snacks. The kitchen became the stage for a breakfast duet between Jennifer and Kody, a symphony of cereal crunches and babbling discourse on topics as vast as the ocean and as profound as the latest cartoon escapades. Their dialogue, a dance of maternal wisdom and toddler insights, was a harmonious balance to the morning rush. But as the phone rang with the jingle of professional duty, Jennifer's face became the canvas of a thousand expressions, each painting a story of late-night efforts now basking in the limelight of recognition.
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Check out the The Beginning of the Burb’s Spring! Learn more about the Burbs here!
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the-lonelyshepherd · 11 days
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Your fanon lottienat analysis is spot on.
It’s clear that both were outliers of the group and while they got along with others on the team. I get the vibe that they always kept a distance so nobody got to really “know” them and that it was on purpose. Neither girl has a best friend pre-crash. There was no one they were eager to sit with on the flight. They just sort of ended up where they were. And maybe they sensed this in one another and it’s why they seemed to be drawn to each other’s gravitational pull.
So many people misunderstood Lottie’s character. Lottie doesn’t bask in attention like Jackie or even Van (through her class clown escapades) Lottie just wants to fade into the crowd and not take up much space. Nat literally says that Lottie doesn’t judge or talk shit in the very first episode. To me Lottie kinda has this self deprecating nature. I’m always reminded of this quote from the Hunger games:
No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
Lottie sees all of this worth and potential in the other girls (especially Natalie) and not much in herself. She’s been taught since she was a little girl that because of her mental illness she is broken and a burden. So she gives and she sacrifices repeatedly. Like, her goal in the wilderness is not to survive but to help others survive. When she comes home her feelings on her worth are somewhat vindicated. Her parents can’t handle her as she is, they never could and once again she is carted around to Doctor after doctor to be fixed until she’s shipped off to Switzerland where they leave her there for 15 years.
And while Nat didn’t want to get too close to people so they could take a magnifying glass to her life and trauma, she wasn’t antisocial. We see Nat participate within the group. Going to the parties, group hugs, locker room dances, choreographed dances in the cabin, the shooting competition, the seance. Nat is always up to participate where at times Lottie is not (the group prayer, the shooting thing- I don’t remember if Lottie tried?)
It’s like people restrict Lottienat to their clothing choices and use the way they dress as a template to their personalities.
YES YOURE SO RIGHT. THIS THIS THIS^^^
i’ve said stuff like this in other places to, but lottie’s household and mental illness are so… skimmed over? besides jokes about schizophrenia bc we can’t miss those!!! but it very clearly affected her a lot and the fanon lottie is just… not even lottie anymore imo.
plus lottie doesn’t even dress that preppy/popular. girl is living in the docs. i know @lais-a-ramos had some really interesting takes on how this could reflect certain music cultures!! i’ll let lais speak on that if she wants to though, i’m not as knowledgeable.
overall you said everything i was trying to convey, and so well too. if u ever wanna reveal urself anon i’d be happy to discuss more 🫶🫶
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robotic-rin · 9 months
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Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)
(Beetlejuice x Reader)
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Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.
Word Count: 13,840
Rating: Explicit
Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable
Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!
You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.
Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.
You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.
You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.
As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.
“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”
You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.
“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.
The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”
You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.
He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.
You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.
He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.
“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.
His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.
“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.
“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.
As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.
You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.
“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.
“Boo.”
He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.
“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.
He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.
Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.
You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”
“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.
Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”
Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.
You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.
“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.
“That is demonstrably false.”
“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”
“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”
“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.
“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”
His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”
“No,” you respond flatly.
“Spin the bottle?”
“No.”
“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”
“N-what? How is that even-“
“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”
You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.
Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.
Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“
“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.
Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.
Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.
Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.
Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.
After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”
“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“
Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.
You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.
You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”
“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.
Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.
Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”
Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”
“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”
He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.
You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.
But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”
You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.
Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”
Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.
You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.
Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.
After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”
He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”
“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”
The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.
“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.
Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.
“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”
“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.
Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.
Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.
Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?
You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.
“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.
If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.
You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.
Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.
You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”
His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”
“That’s not how you ask for something.”
His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.
“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”
Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.
You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”
He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”
Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”
Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”
“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”
“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.
“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”
“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”
Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”
“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.
“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”
You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.
If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”
You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.
After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.
You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”
“Heh, you mean it?”
“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”
“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.
“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.
He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”
You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.
“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.
“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”
“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”
You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.
“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?
“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.
“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”
“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.
Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”
You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.
“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.
You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.
“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.
“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”
“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”
You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.
“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.
Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”
“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.
Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.
You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”
He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.
You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.
“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.
Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”
You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.
Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.
“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.
Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.
“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”
He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.
“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”
With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.
“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.
You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.
Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.
“No fuckin’ way.”
“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”
“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”
Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”
“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”
Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.
You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”
Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.
You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”
“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”
“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”
You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.
“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.
“Uh, what exactly did you do?”
“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.
You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”
“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”
“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”
Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.
Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.
“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.
“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.
“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”
Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.
“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”
An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”
Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.
“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”
You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.
“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”
You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”
He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.
You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”
Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”
“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”
Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.
“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”
Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.
After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”
You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.
He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”
You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”
“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”
You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.
“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.
“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.
Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”
You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”
The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”
“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”
“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”
“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”
“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”
“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”
“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”
You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”
Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”
You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”
Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.
“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”
With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.
You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.
Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)
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necromatador · 5 months
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A friend of mine had a scare yesterday when her tiny tiny dog managed to slip out a second story window and learned she couldn't fly the hard way!
Luckily the poor pup has no breaks or internal damage, and has been given medication for the bumps and bruises she suffered (given that she's only like 4 pounds soaking wet, she's very lucky).
Her owner, a friend of mine since high school, could still really use some help with the vet bills because their household was already financially stressed before this little dog escapade.
Spreading the word and any donations are both equally appreciated!
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