#when the whole thing was supposed to be about said dead girl

[mytalemyworld]

AND YEAH LET'S TALK ABOUT ASI AND ALAZ MORE. Because hell, if this episode wasn't about the whole idea that "how this ship ruined our lives and theirs", I don't know what it was. Yeah, we got that, thank you, no need to be too merciless, everyone is still traumatized.

When Asi said there was something they had to talk about, the first thing that came to his mind was that she was breaking up with him. For good this time. And he said he wasn't surprised, this would happen anyway. He even didn't give her an opportunity for a break up speech, tried to save her the trouble.

Then...

Asi: I am pregnant.

Deep breath…

Yeah, this scene was already shown in the fragman and thanks to the leaked scenario I knew what would happen but believe me I was definitely not prepared for what happened later.

The way he acted like how this should have been the right reaction and the way she just waited for him to finish his heartbreaking play…

The moment the play ended, the moment his eyes turned dead…

FML.

Alaz: This is how I am supposed to react, right? But I am not that man, Asi. I don't want another family that I will be drown in. Asi: Maybe I want a family. Can't I? Alaz: You can. You can because you don't know how a family can be a swamp. Look at the person in front of you. I am Alaz Taklacı. Do you think this world needs another Taklacı father? Isn't it unfair to the baby inside you?

Oh timing is so wrong, it's just so wrong. They both are right.

Now there's a chance that she will have a family no matter how wrong timing is. It's not like she isn't realistic, it's just this might be only possibility. And knowing how she is sensitive about unwanted children and babies, I think she seriously doesn't think in a logical way.

But he is right too. Because the state he is in definitely isn't ideal to talk about this. They're young and not ready, of course this is another thing, but they're not addressing that issue. His thoughts about being a father are just wrecked and even if they were older, I think he still might not want to have a child.

They're the cause of my current state of emotional distress.

Asi: Look I know you're suffering a lot. I know you fall apart after every upsetting thing you go through. Because all your wounds are inside of you, in the deepest part of you. Even though nobody sees it, I do, Alaz. I know you. With your goodness, with your bad-self, with your sins, with your wrongdoings, with your wounds..I love you.

BEST LOVE CONFESSION EVER. He couldn't believe he got that confession -an epic one- after everything he did.

And I want to cry.

Alaz: Wow, finally you said those three words, huh? When you said it for the first time, we were in a storage room, at a point where everything was over. And now we are again at the point where everything is over. Asi: But we survived it. We got out of there and kept going. Alaz: I can't keep going, Asi. Because I'll say go and get rid of this baby and you'll hate me. Asi: Is that it? Alaz: It is. Asi: Okay. I promise I will hate you. I'll hate you so much that I will never see your face again. The moment I get rid of this baby, I will have gotten rid of you too.

OH MY HE TRIED TO SWALLOW... This ruined him the most.

Alaz: This would be the right thing to do, rebel girl.

I AM DYING AGAIN.

THEY MADE A F.CKING PARALLEL WITH THIS SCENE

AND WITH THIS SCENE

Because she screamed after him. Because she said "save me from you". Just like he said "save yourself from me" in ep 18. But just like how she went back to him back then, he went to her a couple of hours later, too.

Oh my god, they really wrecked us, didn't they?

#yabani #asi x alaz

[lovebugism]

hi bug! can I please request the dialogue prompt “Hold up, she said what?” with steve and shy!reader? maybe she is robin’s friend and robin tells steve something reader said (maybe that she thinks steve is cute or nice or something of the sort), and it leads to a cute conversation between the two?

ty for requesting angel!! — steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love (shy!fem!reader, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, 2.3k)

blurbcember ⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve interjects suddenly, a metal scoop in his hand and a wild look in his eye. “She said what?”

Robin fumbles with the metal tub of Peppermint-Chip ice cream she’s refilling. It clangs when she drops it into place with haphazard care. The shop goes unusually silent without her rambling to fill the dead air. Holly, Jolly Christmas crackles quietly from the broken speakers overhead.

The girl blinks at him with a wide ocean gaze. Her rogue-tinted mouth falls softly agape. She knows she’s said the wrong thing, but she can’t remember what.

“...Huh?”

“What’d you just say?”

Her doe eyes flit to the left for a moment. It takes her a second or more to recall the words she’d only just said. She does this thing sometimes where she rambles on and on about nothing, and Steve was the first person in the whole world to let her. So it’s way too easy for her to tell him a billion things at once and forget about all of them a second later.

“That the music store just got new cassettes in?” Robin answers, her gritty voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Steve nods slow and with a crooked grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth. He rests his elbow on the glass case above the ice cream and eggs her on. “After that?”

“…That you and the pretty new girl that works there have the same taste in music?”

“Before that.”

“That she said she wanted to show you the new tapes,” she says, wincing with the realization that she had, in fact, said the wrong thing. A secret she swore not to tell has just spilled from her lips without her even knowing it.

“And?” Steve lilts with a wider, rosier smile.

“Because she likes you…” Robin confesses (or rather, re-confesses) with her teeth gritted.

Even though Steve had heard her perfectly the first time, hearing it the second makes his heart skip a beat. The pulsing organ lurches into his throat. He almost forgets how to breathe.

“She likes me?” he repeats, mostly whispering, with an incredulous gape of shock. His bushy brows raise until his forehead wrinkles. His eyes go wide until the honey of them starts to glimmer.

Despite her best friend’s lovesick disposition, Robin’s freckled face hardens. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” she rumbles like a storm cloud, knocking her shoulder against his when she walks by him.

“Why?” Steve retorts like a child, following behind her just the same. 

He nearly bumps into her when she stops short at the deep freezer. She returns the cloth mits she carried the ice cream in with after spending her whole break organizing the case by color. Steve could never even be bothered to put the damn things back where they belonged in the first place.

“Because I swore to her I wouldn’t,” Robin agonizes, then whips around to face him again. Her features are twisted like a hurt puppy as she pleads. “Don’t tell her I said anything either, okay? She’ll hate me.”

Steve wasn’t planning on it. Not because he thought it might make you hate her, though. He’s not entirely sure you’re capable of that. 

He’s only known you for a few months — ever since the leaves started changing color and people traded their ice cream cones for cool music at the new record store. He spent half that time admiring you across the landing, but you’ve never been anything but gentle with him. You were soft, with a soul of sunshine. 

He didn’t know it was possible to be made of sunlight until he met you.

“Well, did you tell her I liked her back?” he presses, hoping Robin might’ve done some of the hard work for him.

Her face screws up like she’s tasted something sour. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised you I wouldn’t.”

Steve shoots her a deadpanned look.

Robin caves. 

“It’s not like I meant to tell you she liked you just now, okay? It just came out!” she explains, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Maybe next time I stick my foot in my mouth around the new girl, I’ll tell her that you’re obsessed with her, and the two of you can finally start dating instead of making sex eyes at each other all the time.”

He wouldn’t put that past her. Robin the Mastermind, Robin the Blabbermouth, Robin the Matchmaker. But his fluttering heart is pumping with too much adrenaline now. He feels like he could move mountains with the knowledge of your affections — knowing that all his own big, fuzzy, suffocating feelings have been reciprocated all this time.

If he doesn’t talk to you now, he’s scared he’ll never work up this kind of courage again.

“No. Screw that,” he concludes with a shake of his head. He’s in King Steve mode now — feeling half as suave as he used to back when the whole town was falling at his feet — chest puffed and ego reeling. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Robin watches, dumbfounded, as he dumps a scoop of their best-selling ice cream into a paper bowl. Another tub she’ll have to refill. Steve ducks under the counter door and heads for the exit. “Wait— what am I supposed to do?” the girl shouts across the empty store.

Now out in the bustling Starcourt mall and taking short strides towards the music store, Steve spins on his heel to face her. He shrugs and readjusts the sailor’s cap on his head. “Wait for me to get back.”

—————

You’ve been banished to the back of the store.

Not exactly. But that’s what it feels like.

You got a bit too overwhelmed working the front counter, and since Eddie’s crazy soft on you, he let you put up all the Christmas decorations he’d been putting off instead. It’s a win-win situation, really. 

You’re stringing up sparkling tinsel over the rows of records when a deep blue sailor’s uniform catches your eye. Looking over your shoulder, you find Steve in all his glorysauntering towards you. He’s wearing shorts even though it’s basically winter now in Indiana. He’s beaming at you like sunshine anyway.

Beneath the amber glow of the dimly lit store, he looks borderline angelic. Almost unfairly ethereal.

“What’s that?” you wonder with a smile you don’t even know is there, nodding to the Scoops Ahoy brandedcup in his hand. 

You can almost smell the syrup-cinnamon concoction of the ice cream he holds in his palm. Or maybe that’s just Steve, and the sugary sweetness is radiating from his pores after working in a confectionary shop during the holidays.

He looks at you even sweeter.

“New flavor,” he answers vaguely, smirking as he leans against the metal shelves. He stumbles slightly when it rocks beneath his weight. “Oops. Sorry. It’s, uh— It’s pancake chunks with maple syrup swirl. I call it Wake and Bake.” 

A giggle tumbles from your lips when he hands it to you. “Eddie’s gonna love that,” you murmur.

“Well, it’s actually called Breakfast in Bed, but— I don’t know— I thought my idea was better.”

“Way better,” you concur with a nod and a pretty smile.

Steve watches with attentive honey eyes as you spoon a bite into your mouth. He feels a bit like it’ll be his fault if you hate it. His irrational need to impress you always makes him feel hopelessly inadequate. 

“Woah,” you hum without your mouth still a little full. The cream melts softly on your tongue, tasting of a sweet and early morning. “This is really good.”

His brows raise, and his eyes widen. “Yeah?” he wonders. Your words wash over him like a compliment for a reason he can’t name. It feels good to make you feel good.

“Mhmm. I might have to come by after work and buy the rest of it, actually,” you joke with a curt shrug. It’s a feeble confession — your way of telling him that you want to see him more because you could never say the real thing out loud.

Your heart sinks when Steve shakes his head. Then swells when he smiles.

“No way,” he scoffs, lips curling into a lopsided grin. “I’m not gonna let you pay for it— that’s crazy.”

“You can’t keep giving me free ice cream, Steve—”

“What my manager doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he lilts lowly and with a cool shrug that makes you melt. He goes very distinctly soft when he looks at you, all scruffy-faced and sweet-eyed. 

It’s suffocatingly beautiful. You crack under the pressure of it. 

“Well, uh— Thanks for the— ice cream,” you stammer and motion the bowl back to him. Thanks for stopping by and keeping me company, but you’re too pretty and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it, you don’t say.

“You don’t want the rest?” he asks with pinched brows.

“I just… should probably get back to work, you know?”

“Eddie doesn’t let you take breaks?”

“No, he does,” you answer quickly, shifting your weight on your feet. It becomes virtually impossible to meet his gaze. “Just not with…”

Steve’s brows raise when you trail off. “Not with me?” he finishes with a laugh.

“Well, not with the… pretty-boy-ice-cream-slinger in the sailor’s uniform,” you correct, then quickly follow. “His words. Not mine.”

In all honesty, Steve couldn’t care less about what Eddie Munson has to say about him. If Hawkins’s local freak is the only thing standing between him and the pretty girl at the music store, he’s down to break a couple of dumb rules.

He takes a small step towards you. His pink smirk widens. You swear your heart stops when he looks at you with it. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” he teases with a twinkle in his squinted eye.

Suddenly, there’s a frog in your throat and you’re fourteen all over again. You’re flustered and drowning and totally unsure of yourself. “I didn’t say that,” you mutter, gaze flittering and smile wavering.

Steve goes to rest his elbow on the shelf again, then remembers its unsteadiness and decides against it. His arm rests awkwardly in the air for half a moment before he crosses both of them over his chest. 

“Well, I mean, you didn’t not say it, so…”

You squint up at him, busying your clammy hands with the melting ice cream in your palm. You know what he’s fishing for. Your pride urges you to stay silent even though your heart sings the sweetest songs for him. 

“You know you’re pretty, Steve,” you murmur matter of factly.

“But do you think I’m pretty?”

Your thundering heart lurches into your throat when Steve takes another small step closer. He smells like wintertime — like Christmas and nostalgia and boy. You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, so you nod, slow and sheepish.

“Good,” he hums with a beam he couldn’t hide if he tried. “‘Cause I think you’re pretty, too.”

Your chest gets all sparkly at his admission — the affirmation that all your girlish feelings are being reciprocated by a boy you never dreamed you could have. You don’t feel hardly deserving of the fondness dripping from his features, but you pray he never stops looking at you with it.

You grow warm with the irrational hope that he might kiss you. You think he might actually kiss you until your boss’s voice pierces the golden bubble of puppy love the both of you are basking in.

“How’s the decorating going?” Eddie announces himself, appearing suddenly between the two aisles.

Robin idles at his side. She’s in the feminine version of Steve’s sailor outfit — with silver chains around her neck and bandaids on her knees. Effortlessly endearing and totally unaware of it all.

You push Steve away from you without thinking, all but shoving the softening ice cream into his chest. Some of it smears white against the scarlet tie around his chest. “Sorry!” you exclaim in your moment of fleeting panic, then turn to Eddie with the same apologetic wince. “Sorry…” you repeat quieter.

“Robin?” Steve gapes at the sight of his best friend — apparently the second thing standing in his way, right beside the freak. “What the hell are you doing here— did you tattle on me? What are you, four?”

“I got lonely,” the brunette answers plainly. “And I knew you were around here somewhere, so I asked Eddie where you were—” She waves a pale hand your way, fingers painted with chipping maroon polish.  “—And now I’m here.”

Eddie grins wide and tilts his wild head to his shoulder. “Yeah. Can’t believe you’re trying to taint my one good employee, Steven.”

“I’m not tainting anybody, Munson,” he bites back like a bickering brother, then screws up his face and turns to Robin. “Wait. If you’re here, who’s manning the counter?”

Her freckled face falls like a child caught in a fib. Her deep blue eyes widen when she blinks at him. In a mousier voice, she confesses, “Dustin came by… And I told him he could eat all the ice cream he wanted as long as he made sure no one stole anything.”

The four of you fall silent. The soft rock of Christmas Wrapping plays weakly from the radio at the front of the store. Eddie breaks first. ‘Cause he can’t ever be serious about anything. 

The boyish sound of his laughter sends a giggle sputtering from your lips. The pretty noise makes Steve smile despite his baffled disbelief.

He turns to you with a dumbfounded grin. “You’re still stopping by after work, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer softly, nodding as your smiling face grows hot.

Eddie scoffs when Steve walks by him. “If you still have a job by then.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: blurbcember

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #max mayfield #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #ej writes #ej posts #ok to rb

[simpingland]

Hi hello how are ya I'd like to request something

Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co star (fem pronounce) where they're at an interview and goofing off, reader joking about getting sleep while they're putting on wigs for hours and stuff like that, maybe a little more serious talk about their characters

(Readers character is jaces twin and aemonds love interest)

Thank you!

Flirting and sleeping// Ewan Michael x fem!actress.

Summary: playing Aemond's love interest have the perks of giving you a flirty partner during promotion and a comfortable shoulder to sleep on set.

Gif not mine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last interview of the day, after a whole week of promotion. Always the same questions, always the same answers. Keeping your outfit spotless for a whole day, with your make-up intact and hours of sleep accumulated.

"How is it possible that you are always sleepy?" Your colleague Ewan asked you when he saw you yawning.

"I'm a very reflective person, the night inspires me" you joked, and watched as he shook his head, smiling.

"These things feel like an eternity," he complained.

You were about to agree with him when the new interviewer sat down opposite. She greeted you, and Ewan, as always, was a gentleman, serious and attentive.

You, however, found it hard to pay as much attention. You glanced sideways at Ewan's every gesture, and he seemed to make a great effort to listen. After all this time you had learned to read his expression of feigned listening as well as his real one.

"After so many serious scenes, I suppose you keep your spirits up between scenes...are you bored on set or are you too busy?" The girl looked at the two of you.

"I tend to stay focused. Getting into Aemond's mind is quite complicated..." Ewan's tone amused you. He turned to look at you. "What?"

You let out a laugh, the interviewer looking confused at the scene.

"Sorry honey," you turned to the girl, "but Ewan is lying to you. He was concentrating at the beginning, when he took his job very seriously."

You watched as Ewan leaned back in his chair, hiding a smile and waiting for you to tease him, which he quite enjoyed.

"This guy was scary on the first day."

"It's thanks to the costume and make-up team," he interrupted.

"Oh, no, Ewan, I mean the day of the script reading. That sweatshirt was terrifying." What you said made the interviewer laugh, and Ewan joined in the fake discussion you had formed.

"You speak out of envy," he replied, crossing his legs.

"For this kind of thing, he's very formal. They always put together nice outfits for him, but in real life, it's nothing like that. "

"And what's Ewan like in real life?" Ewan himself asked.

"He's weird... weird and kind of flirty."

He turned red, shaking his head as the interviewer let you speak. You were basically getting more information out for her than she intended to get.

"Yeah, yeah...there's nothing shy about this guy here. He makes all the girls on the set smile with his 'good morning, love'. And they all love to put him his wig in the morning, his patch..."

"Why don't you let the girl do the interview?" Your partner interrupted you with mock seriousness.

"Excuse me, but I'm answering the question. Ewan was very focused at first. No one dared speak to him once he put on that wonderful costume. But as soon as Susan in make-up told him he looked 'sexy'..." you snapped your fingers. "He became a sex symbol on set and enjoys it like nobody's business. He doesn't get bored on set because he spends the hours between scenes practising with his sword, chatting with the crew when he goes to get his coffee..."

"You should tell her how you spend your breaks..." he grinned mischievously. You looked at him, hiding a smile. You mostly spent them with him, but people didn't need to know that.

"You tell her."

"She spends her dead hours asleep or breaking things." The interviewer let out another laugh. "Oh, yes, she's snored through her make-up. I've had to put up with her nodding her head every morning. And the few times she was awake, she would steal my wig to take pictures. Remember what Susan said to you when she caught you?" she looked at you as if to scold you, and you looked ashamed.

"That I was going to mess it up..."

"Exactly! This girl is a mess on legs. The first day of shooting, she tore the fabric of her cape. The first day we shot together, she almost broke the carriage window... and the wine glass. Let's not forget the wine glass on the last day."

"I dented it," you confessed to the girl.

"The whole team was praying you'd fall asleep before you touched any more stuff." Continued your partner looking back at you.

"I've had the broken stuff deducted from my pay, you know."

"Yeah? And how much money have you earned then?"

"Let's just say...I've gone into debt to HBO..."

You laughed at your own joke as Ewan tried to refocus on the poor interviewer. You really had been the clumsiest person on set, and that was in stark contrast to the careful attitude Ewan had had in that same period. Many times, you had led him astray, getting him involved in a game where you both could let off steam while the sets were being set up. He loved to show you his swordsmanship, and of course, he was good at it. He had experience.

But on some other days, when it was anynof your turns to act, Ewan was much more focused, and although you were embarrassed to entertain him at first, he always made a point of sitting next to you. He helped you revise as much as you helped him. And while your gallery was filled with pictures of you making an idiot of yourself with his wig, and Ewan making an idiot of himself with his wig too, Ewan had his gallery filled with pictures of you asleep in the most unlikely places on the set, and pictures of you posing with whatever mess you had made. And Tom had been in charge of recording those occasions when you slept leaning on Ewan's shoulder while he reread his script. That would stay between you two, and you'd been going through the photos before bed for months, unaware that Ewan was doing exactly the same thing, grateful to have an excuse like promotion to be near you all the time.

"The relationship between your characters has been a much-discussed topic on the network and among fans. The girl changed the subject to a more serious one, to the one that really mattered, the series.

"You mean incest?" you asked.

"More like the feud between Blacks and Greens."

"Oh, right..."

"That's the thing with this series," Ewan interrupted. "The incest is the least of your worries."

"Right, silly me," you said wryly.

"It's common sense, of course."

You smiled at each other, admiring each other fondly, perhaps too fondly, as you always did, leaving the girl a bit of an outsider, and were surprised when she asked again.

"The good thing is that you don't look like each other. The relationship you have in the plot is a parallel to Romeo and Juliet. How do you approach this dynamic? Do you want it to be really romantic or something toxic like Rhaenyra and Daemon?"

"That I suppose can always be left to the audience's opinion," reasoned your partner. "For me there's certainly something romantic about it. Aemond is a character that transforms into something perverse but at the beginning he didn't seem to have such a strong quality. The writers wanted to make him that way, evolved. And I think her character is designed not to contrast but to show that there is something good in Aemond." You smiled downward as you listened to him, you had already talked about it during rehearsals. "When we did the casting, the director told me that they were looking for an actress with a sweet aura, well, so that ond couldn't naturally react violently towards her. They introduced me to this arse next to me and... you get a bit attached to her.

"I love working with Ewan, he's always so flattering..."

The girl smiled at you before asking.

"You're okay with the romance?"

"Well..." you thought for a second. Of course, the kiss you two had just rolled around was too passionate for it to be a toxic relationship. You shot the kiss as a very intimate scene, where Aemond approached your character with some fear, and it took you a moment to return the kiss. It was a slow kiss, tense and sweet. But when you return it, it was hard to separate again. Of course, what was left to shoot that day was done with flushed cheeks and dodging glances. Sparks had been flying between you and Ewan since the day you were brought together in that room for the test.

"Yes, I think it's different from Rhaenyra and Daemon. There's a lot more respect and a lot more equality between them. From the very beginning, we were going to treat our plot from the 'first love' trope, and we saw no better way to recite our lines than the longing and desire they have for each other. And how much Ewan and I love each other transcends the screen too much."

You saw how intensely he looked at you, maybe you had said too much. You were silent for too many seconds. You put on that mischievous grin again. "As much as Ewan is a great actor, I don't think anyone can pretend to hate me."

"Wow, that means the next season is going to be very promising for your fans. Thank you so much for this time, and for the tidbits from the set."

"It's been a pleasure, honey," you dismissed her.

"Our pleasure, I love your t-shirt, by the way," said Ewan, the girl was wearing a t-shirt with a poster of Daemon and Aemond on it.

You didn't know how to look at him after that. Had your answer been something of a confession? Maybe the kiss hadn't been that intense for him and you had just made a fool of yourself. Of course it was a bit weird the last ten minutes of your promo day.

You shared a taxi to the hotel, with silly small talk. When you arrived, you were walking up a flight of stairs when your heel broke.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! My stylist is going to kill me!" You picked up your precious heels, Ewan didn't laugh at you, but he did smile at your desperation.

"Don't worry, we'll ask someone to get us some glue."

"A branded heel fixed with glue?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't made of steel, if it breaks easy it's easy to fix."

You walked all the way up the stairs barefoot. Ewan stopped.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you saw him stand back and pull out his mobile phone.

"Smile and show that heel," he asked. When you did he took the picture and smiled to himself. "For the collection. "

"Thanks to your tip-off they won't get me for period films, you know."

"You started it, I remind you. You've taken away my reputation as a serious, up-and-coming actor."

Ewan grabbed your heels from your hand as he saw you with your hands full with your mobile and wallet.

"The truth is, that poor girl was trying to be professional and we got into a play fight in front of her."

"I think she had fun. Of course, after always answering the same thing, this time I remembered why I like this job so much."

"I hope I didn't offend you, Ewan. You know it was all a joke."

You stopped at his door, yours was just opposite.

"All of it, all of it?"

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips, thinking about how to phrase the question. You knew what he meant, now came the awkward part. Why the hell did you start talking about love?

"All the weeks since I've known you have been filled with something...special. And you were right when you said that I can't pretend to be repulsed by you, because... I definitely feel the opposite. I like every minute that you are beside me, not only for how talented you are but...how sweet and funny everything is with you. You're also quite gorgeous if I am allawed to say. And no, it's nothing of a method actor if I tell you that I have a crush on your bones just because Aemond would be... I want to make sure this feeling isn't just mine."

"You're telling me you like me?"

"Yeah, basically yes."

"And you're asking me if I like you?" You were clearly in shock.

"It's good to know you understand me...now I need an answer."

Yes, OF COURSE YOU DO. For some reason nothing came out of your mouth, and you could only look at him. Ewan read that silence as a definitive no and, after swallowing his breath, he nodded and gave up without losing his gallantry.

"I'm going to call room service and have them bring some glue."

He turned to open his door as you suddenly became aware of everything. You didn't know what he was babbling about when he opened it, but when he turned again to offer you passage, you jumped on him. You grabbed his face with impetus, and kissed his thin lips again as you had that day on the set. This time there was something even more authentic. Ewan held your waist as he regained his balance. This kiss surpassed the one in the scene, this one felt completely free, completely real and without consequence. Needless to say, you didn't go back to sleep in your room for the rest of the promo tour.

#house of the dragon fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd

[rebelliousstories]

Pretty as a Peach

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Strong Language, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,322

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two of: Peachy

Summary: There’s something odd about this girl that had started traveling with the duo. But it does give Lucy a peak behind the curtain on the Wasteland’s most notorious partners in crime.

“Rise and shine babies!” Someone screamed right as the light started to filter into their shelter for the evening. Lucy groaned as she stretched, before rubbing her eyes and looking around. The same woman from last night, the one that The Ghoul called “Peach” was still there. She shook awake the man next to her, who merely grumbled.

“‘M tired, sweetie. Just go back to sleep.” He said, voice thick with accent and sleep. Cooper reached a hand up and removed his hat from his eyes to look at where the offending noise came from.

“You said we’d leave at the break of day. Don’t tell me you forgot already, old bones?” She teased, bending over to place her hands on her knees.

“I’ll show you old man.” Howard growled, and swiped for the woman. But she stepped back and giggled maniacally at his failed attempt.

“Come on. I wanna get this show on the road.” And she left without another word. Her two new companions were made to catch up to her as she left. Thankfully, neither one had bothered unpacking much which made the whole process easier. Lucy watched as Cooper marched forward and slowed his pace once he made it to the woman.

The vault dweller was fascinated by what she saw on their journey through the day. She saw a different side of The Ghoul that she was traveling with. Not going as far as to say sweet, but definitely caring. As they walked, Lucy saw the pair in front of her sharing food, water, and on occasion, words. It was not until a familiar four legged friend came up that their words became loud enough to be intelligible.

“Oh, who is this?” She knelt down to the dog with a dead iguana in her mouth. The pup’s tail was wagging at a hundred miles an hour at the attention, while the woman scratched behind her ears.

“That’s DogMeat. Ain’t mine, but stays with me I suppose.” Cooper drawled, looking disinterested in the animal, but his partner knew better. Yet, she said nothing about it.

“Well, hello DogMeat. I’ll let you have breakfast.” The woman stood back up and watched the dog for a moment more, before resuming her pace. DogMeat stayed behind for a bit, just long enough for her to tear into her meal, before she rejoined the trio. This time Lucy got an even different view of The Ghoul.

Occasionally, his hand dipped down to find the dog he claimed not to care about, delivered a passing pet, and then retracted it. Usually at the same time, his other hand would search out the peachy woman next to him before, also, retracting. Lucy could not hear the words spoken between the two, but she could see the gestures. When she complained about the sun, and shielded her eyes with her hand, Cooper reached up and placed her hat on her head. If she was fanning herself, he would reach into his pocket and give her his canteen.

But she also did things for him that made her have hope for civilization on the surface. Whenever he began to pat himself down, she would reach into her own bag and give him a readily available chem for his inhaler. If Cooper rubbed his stomach and reached for his canteen, she would hand him some jerky instead. They took care of themselves, as well as each other. Lucy knew that if she were to ask, they would both say that this was just a partnership born out of necessity. But if there is one thing she had learned on the surface it is that people just do not stick around other people unless there is a deeper reason.

She saw it in the way they sought each other out as they walked. If they moved through difficult terrain, he would always make sure that it was safe for her to move first. As the night grew closer, and the cold came in with the night, Cooper kept the woman closer and closer until they found shelter. The trio found themselves a little barn type structure to stay the night. It was open save for one set of door, but it was better than sleeping in the elements where you had no idea someone was sneaking up on you until it was too late.

Cooper looked around the area as he set down his saddle bag. Peach came over and set down the hat on top of the bag before setting out to explore. She made her way all over the dilapidated barn, careful not to break the barn or herself. It was not until she tried to climb to the hayloft that The Ghoul stepped in.

“Don’t you go climbin’ woman. You gonna get yourself hurt, Peach.” He groaned, watching her pause briefly in her efforts.

“I’ll be fine.” She shot back, already resuming her climb. Her journey was successful as she safely made her way into the loft, and poked her head out off of the side.

“See? I’m fine. You should come up, Coop. ‘S got a good view.” And she rolled out of sight. The man sighed heavily, but followed her request much to Lucy’s astonishment. She watched him climb the same rickety ladder that Peach had climbed just moments before. Staying down on the ground with DogMeat, the vault dweller began to gather things that they would need to start a fire for the evening. Light faded fast as she finished building the flames up to a point that they could enjoy it. A little bit later, the duo came down from their loft. Hay stuck to her hair and his duster, but no one had made a noise so Lucy was not sure what they were doing for the last hour.

“Come here, DogMeat.” She called,and the canine responded. Her head rested in the woman’s lap as she scratched her nails over her fur. The pup closed her eyes and eventually fell asleep in her lap, to which she gushed over.

“Oh this is just the cutest thing ever.” Peach cooed, careful not to raise her voice and wake the dog.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cute.” Lucy agreed, watching them in their moment. Both women turned to the man with them simultaneously and looked at him with hopeful faces.

“It’s a dog. Whatcha want me to say?” He grumbled, knees up to his chest and head bare from his hat.

“Oh, don’t give me that, Coop. You think she is adorable.” Peach leaned her body into the side of the ghoul next to her, who merely shot her a look, to which she ignored.

“Okey dokey. I’m going to go to sleep. Goodnight you two.” Lucy proclaimed, setting up a little palette a bit a ways from the fire. It was close enough that she could still feel the heat, but far enough away that she could give the couple their privacy.

“I kinda like that Vaultie, Coop.” The woman sighed, keeping her voice to a whisper as she gazed at the young woman that was now asleep.

“Ain’t nothn’ special ’bout her. ‘Cept her last name. Pain in my ass most of the time.” He replied, finding his eyes on the young woman as well.

“I was that ‘pain in the ass Vaultie’ once. Remember?” Her question made The Ghoul pause before he responded.

“Yeah I do. But now, you’re my little peach girl. Pretty as one too.” Cooper dropped a kiss to her hair and slung an arm around her while she settled in to sleep. They laid together, with her tucking herself in closer underneath Howard’s duster. As they drifted off to sleep, Lucy laid awake. She could barely make out what was being said but it was interesting to her enough that she would have to ask about it. The Ghoul’s Peachy Girl was a former vault dweller.

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #lucy maclean

[babybluebex]

i’ve had this scenario banging around in my head since the movie came out but imagine a fic where the reader has a massive crush on angus but they see him kissing elise at the christmas party 😭 like i loooveee angst and i would write this fic myself but i lost my last neuron when i fell off an electric scooter and got a concussion 😔

oh no concussion!! :( i'm so sorry about that honey, hopefully this'll make up for that!//word count: 2.1k, tw for grief/loss

You couldn't help but notice the way Angus grinned when Ms. Crane said her niece's name. It was a real smile, not the firm, thin thing that he had given you at lunch— you supposed that he hated being stuck at Barton as much as you did, maybe even hating you in the process. Being the only girl at Barton was hard, but especially at the holidays, when you really felt like your choices were the school or a fucking grave. It hurt, sure, but that smile on Angus's face hurt worse.

Elise pulled both you and Angus into the basement, where children sat, doing crafts with paste and glitter and pom-poms, and you smiled at one of the little girls, playing a popsicle stick as a little doll. You heard Angus and Elise talking to each other as they crossed the room, and you lifted your eyes to him just in time to watch him raise his arms in a silly pose and pull a goofy face. You almost started to laugh at him, as per usual when Angus was doing his antics, but Elise laughed first. Her laugh was gentle, her eyes bright, and your heart sank. She really was beautiful, and she was creative and knew whatever painting Angus was talking about. She was something that you weren't, and you sighed gently. And, based on the way that Angus reacted to her, he wanted what she had.

You took to playing with the little girls, keeping an eye out for Angus and Elise across the room. He didn't look at you one single time, keeping his gaze on her the whole time, spreading paint around the page with his long, thin fingers. You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked, and you looked at the pair just in time to watch Elise lean over the table and press her lips to Angus's mouth.

Your heart stopped and your mouth went dry. Of course. After everything, all the time you spent with him, the tells of friendship and maybe more that was building throughout the vacation, he still chose her over you. Would anyone ever choose you? Even at your old school, you were cast aside, forgotten. You thought that there was something with Angus, little flirtations and lingering glances, you could have sworn there was something there, but apparently not. You rubbed your lips together and lowered your eyes, feeling hot tears prick to the surface, and you quickly got up from the short table and made your way upstairs. You needed the bathroom, or the kitchen, or somewhere where there wasn't other people.

Unluckily for you, as you pushed into the kitchen, you heard a shuddering sob, and you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Mary Lamb bent over the counter, crying. Danny, the janitor, who you had interacted with a handful of times, stood in the corner, obviously wanting to help her but not wanting to aggravate her.

"Mary?" you mumbled. "Everything okay?" Even in your upset state, you hated to see the strong and smart Mary in a bad moment. If she was crying, something was wrong.

She said nothing, drawing in a breath and weeping, and your heart clenched. You turned back out of the kitchen, going in search of Mr. Hunham, but before you could even think about his whereabouts, you collided straight into Angus's chest. "Oh, hey," he said with a crooked smile. "You disappeared really suddenly; you okay?"

Seeing his stupid smile made your tears return, and you struggled to breathe. You could worry about yourself and your complicated feelings towards Angus later; you needed to worry about Mary. "M-Mary—" you started, pointing towards the kitchen. "She's— Where's Hunham?"

"What about Mary?" Angus asked, looking past you to the swinging door of the kitchen.

"Where is Hunham?" you repeated firmly, and Angus's smile fell.

"I'll go find him," he mumbled, and you turned back to the kitchen without a word. Mary's head was hanging now, her tears dripping on the counter, and you carefully approached her. "Mary?" you started softly. "Do you want some water or something?"

Mary sniffled and shook her head, and you frowned. She obviously didn't want anything, and you took a step back as Angus and Mr. Hunham noisily bustled into the kitchen. One look at her had Hunham closing the door, and Angus stood in the corner, arms crossed, as he watched Hunham lay a hand on Mary's back.

You felt sick as you listened to her sob about her Curtis, the boy you never met but would always admire, and the group of you was quick to grab your jackets and decide to go home. You were glad; if you ever saw Elise again, you might have dropped dead. But, of course, Angus was whinging the whole walk to the car about leaving Elise behind. "I was having a good time!" he complained. "You can take Mary home and pick me up later!"

"Yeah, having a good time sucking Elise's tongue," you scoffed before you could stop yourself, and Hunham's head snapped to you with intensity.

"I can't believe you two," Hunham grunted. "This poor woman is bereft with grief—" Mary interjected that she didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her, but Hunham paid her little mind— "And all you can think about is that silly girl!"

"What did I do?" you gaped. "All I said was—"

"I heard you, miss," Hunham said. "Mary and I are going to get the car, and by the time we get back, you two had better fix whatever this is."

Your face heated up with shame and embarrassment as Mary and Hunham scuttled away, and you couldn't even bare to look at Angus. But you did, and you saw, on his pale and sharp chin, the smallest red mark, a cut, a nick from shaving. "You have a cut on your chin," you mumbled.

"I know!" Angus spat. "What's your fucking problem suddenly?"

"Hey, don't yell at me," you said quickly. "Look, I'm sorry that you're being pulled away from the love of your life or whatever, but you've got to start giving a shit about other people!"

"Like who?" Angus asked. "Like you?"

"Like Mary!" you said, even though your heart was screaming, begging for Angus to see you. For him to really see you, see through your timidness and shyness and see how badly you liked him. "Oh my God, this is her first Christmas without her son; Jesus Christ, at least act like you've got a heart inside your chest!"

"Why do you care so bad about her?" Angus asked. "And, for a matter of fact, why do you care about Elise?"

"Trust me, I couldn't give less of a shit about Elise," you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest in the cold. "But Mary, I... Fuck... My dad died in January. S'why I didn't wanna go home for the break... It would just be me and my mom, alone in our place, not being able to avoid the empty space on the couch where my dad should be. I don't know what Mary's going through, I'll never know how that feels, but... I get it. It hurts like fucking shit, and, like, you'll never understand how that feels because your parents are alive—"

"My dad's dead."

The way Angus venomously spit out his words made you feel rotted inside. "But..." you started. "I thought your dad...? Saint Kitts...?"

"That's just some rich prick my mom married," Angus said.

"So you should get it," you sighed. "The first holiday without family is hard, every day is hard, but Mary... I can't imagine how she feels, and I'm trying to be as sympathetic as possible, try to make it easier for her or something, y'know?"

Angus was quiet for a long moment, pressing the toe of his shoe into a snowy patch on the sidewalk. "I guess I like Elise because she likes me," he said softly. "S'not everyday I find someone who likes me."

"God..." you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. "Is that what that was?"

"Shut up," Angus sneered.

"Hey, easy," you said gently. "Angus, I..." You didn't know what to say to him. You had no idea how to start the conversation, let alone get to where you wanted to be quick enough— Hunham only parked around the corner, he and Mary should be coming back at any second— and you said, "Was that your first kiss? Just then, with her?"

"All-boys schools don't make it easy to find a girl to kiss," Angus mumbled.

You sighed heavily. Your eyes drifted down to a snowbank at the edge of the street, watching it glitter under the streetlamp for a moment, and, before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him and pressed your mouth to his, grabbing his upper arms to keep you upright with your shaking legs. He started for a moment, shocked and surprised, and his hands hovered above your hips, wholly unsure of how to proceed, and you broke the kiss quickly. His owlish eyes stared you down, his mouth open, but he didn't look upset.

"Say something," you whispered, and he let out a breath, the warmth of the air hitting your lips. "Fuck, please, just say something—"

He kissed you again. His hands grabbed your hips and tugged you against him, and you easily looped your arms around his neck and rose up on your tip-toes to reach his height. His lips were warm, if a little dry, and his nose bumped yours as he went to deepen the kiss, his fingers itching in the skirt of your dress. You smiled, unable to control yourself, and Angus did too, pulling away from your mouth.

"Oh," you whispered, and you smoothed your thumb across his top lip, wiping off a little bit of the rosy lipstick that you had worn to the party. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Whatever," Angus said breathlessly, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. "You taste good."

You chuckled lightly, lowering your eyes to his shoes. That shyness returned as your skin flamed, and you worried your bottom lip between your front teeth. "S-So I guess you see why I wasn't too jazzed about Elise," you said, trying to attempt a lightness in your voice.

"I'll say," Angus said. "How long have you liked me?"

"Since I met you?" you squeaked. "Since, um, I got sat in front of you in Hunham's class...? I don't know, it's dumb."

"Nuh-uh, that's not dumb," Angus said. "I've liked you for... I don't know, I guess since that first day too. We had, um, heard that a girl was coming to Barton, and I didn't really care too much, but I heard how much the other guys cared, and it... I don't know, it became a contest on how little I cared. But then I saw you... Heard you laugh... Watched you sneak a cigarette behind the bleachers during a football game..." You laughed, as did Angus, and his big hand came to cup your face, angling you to look at him. "But I think I really, really fell for you when I kissed her."

"Huh?" you asked, wrinkling your nose.

Angus rolled his eyes, obviously a little abashed by his admission. "Listen, I'm a teenage boy, it's in my nature to daydream about you," he started. "I had dreamed about what it would be like to be your boyfriend, to kiss you, to have my first kiss with you... Then, Elise kissed me, and, when I opened my eyes, I was sorta disappointed to see her and not you."

"Oh," you said softly.

"You went upstairs, and I went after you to try to talk to you about that," Angus said. "And then Mary, and... But yeah. I've just been too chickenshit to tell you before now."

"Well..." you whispered, listening to the quiet rumble of Hunham's car come from around the street corner. "Thank God for Elise."

"Don't you ever say her name again," Angus told you, and he leaned down to kiss you again. You were acutely aware of how Hunham and Mary could certainly see you two necking in the middle of the sidewalk, but you didn't care. Hunham said to work it out, and so you had.

The blaring of the old Buick's horn made Angus pull away from you, and you heard the window squeak down before Hunham shouted "Will you two quit and get inside the goddamn car?"

"Take it easy on 'em," Mary said as you slid into the backseat, followed by Angus.

"Yeah," Angus said. "Take it easy on us."

"I don't need your sass, Mr. Tully," Hunham said, glaring at you two in the rearview mirror. "Now I have to find a way to separate you two at night, no more sleeping in the same room, no more..."

You didn't care to hear Hunham's ramblings; you leaned your head on Angus's shoulder, you took his hand in yours, and you closed your eyes. Maybe the rest of break would be okay.

#bex answers #anon ask #angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #dominic sessa

[peachesofteal]

Imagine got the baby trap au that darling does get away, but as years pass Johnny and ghost manage to run into darling again, and seeing her with their baby🥺 they try to convince her to come back 🥺 that darling needs them, and so does their baby🥺

SCREAMS! What is WRONG with you! You are SICK! I love you SO much, this is painful, I love it.

Simon's pushing the trolley down the aisle, while Johnny walks in front, pulling items off the shelf and placing them neatly in the bottom. He's not fond of this grocery, preferring the one at their last place, but for all intents and purposes, it's not too bad. He can't complain, he supposes. They made the decision to move around like this together, after all. He didn't say no after Johnny begged him to sell the flat, didn't disagree when Johnny said it was too hard. That it was too much. He knew it was.

He's lost in thought about this, about their recent rental by the sea, and the smell of the kelp and salt that lingered in the air every morning when the trolley jerks to a stop, Johnny with his hand on the front, standing stone still.

"Simon." He croaks. He's stopped dead in the middle of the floor, staring straight ahead, looking at someone.

Looking at you.

You, with a child in your arms, a child that looks like a perfect mixture of you and one of them, the melding of DNA babbling happy in your grip, while you answer her with excited words and exaggerated facial expressions. You, smiling, bright, and beaming, while the little girl mimics your facial expressions. You, putting cans into the trolley, while she makes grabby hands for everything. You, and their daughter. Together. Here.

You're so beautiful. She's so beautiful. And she looks healthy, happy, perfect. He nearly falls to his knees, while Johnny physically shakes beside him, his entire body trembling like he's experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.

Have you been alone this whole time? Did you have her all by yourself? Is anyone helping you? Do you have support? Are you okay?

Simon can't move. All he can do is stare at you, just like Johnny is. He's quick to catalogue everything he's seeing, quick to look beneath the baby talk and the pinched smile. Quick to see the other things, the ones you were always shit at hiding from them. The weight loss. The tone of your skin. The way your eyes shift, blink and shutter while you carry the baby's weight. The contents of your cart, the overflowing bounty of top tier baby food, colorful smoothies in pouches and plump produce, while the adult food is limp and lackluster, or just canned. You're taking care of the baby, but no one is taking care of you.

One hundred thoughts flicker through his head. Mostly, its the lines that he's rehearsed to himself a million times, the apologies, the demands, the denials. The begging. The pleading.

I did everything wrong. I made every mistake. We never deserved you. We love you so much. Come home.

"Simon." Johnny hisses, and he jerks to see you, staring back at them, eyes wide and panicked, your hand cradling the baby's head protectively. "No. No, no." Johnny whispers, because he can see the same thing Simon does, the way you're looking past them, around them, looking for an exit. Looking for an escape.

"Don't run." Simon calls to where you stand like a frightened deer at the other end of the aisle. "Please. Please, darling. Don't run."

#baby trap au #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap

[gay-jesus-probably]

I like the general fandom trend to just take the plot of Hyrule Warriors as a loose guideline at best and just use the whole concept as a good excuse to get blorbos to interact across timelines, BUT I'm very disappointed that everyone is missing the comedic potential of a very specific squad of characters:

Young Link (aka Mask), who walks out of the nightmare of Majora's Mask and immediately gets portal kidnapped into a temporal war, takes one look at the whole mess and decides that you could not fucking pay him to admit to being the resident expert on Time Shenanigans. He introduces himself with the title of Hero of Termina, and definitely doesn't have any other ones, that would be crazy. Hero of Time? Never heard of him.

Tetra, who is a kickass pirate captain with zero patience for people trying to shove her into the Designated Princess role, and realizes immediately that Oh Fuck, this Hyrule has a lot of Ideas about how the Hero and the Princess are supposed to properly play their parts, the second they realize she's technically a Zelda they're gonna shove her in a goddamn dress and damsel her again, that's not happening. So she's definitely just a really cool pirate captain, nothing else going on here at all, definitely not the heir of the Hylian royal family in her time, that'd be crazy.

Ravio, who is literally just a palette swapped Link, meaning that the second his hood comes off, things are gonna get Awkward. There's no way in hell he's dealing with all that Hero baggage, that's Link work, so that giant bunny hood/mask is practically superglued to his head, and he's not taking it off for love or money.

Spirit Tracks Zelda, who is just in the Phantom Armour the whole time, and passing herself off as just a friendly ghost posessing a suit of armour to help the Hero of Spirits. Of course she isn't Princess Zelda, that's ridiculous, if she were a Zelda then people would start getting really weird about her technically being dead, and boy does that ever sound like a whole Thing she doesn't want to deal with, so she can't possibly be Zelda, she's just a nice ghost knight. Also, her teenage grandma is here, and that's kinda weird, so it's easier to just not admit to being royalty and avoid that awkward conversation.

Finally there's Sheik, who is not the Princess Zelda of the era straight up abandoning her war torn country for months at a time so she can risk her life in extreme cosplay for no clear reason, but is instead the actual Sheik from Ocarina of Time, who just beat Ganondorf like a month ago and is still trying to process what the fuck to do now. Also, he's been pretending to be a boy since he was ten, and is realizing there's a pretty good chance that he isn't pretending anymore, so that's a whole other can of worms. But for the last seven years of his life, being Princess Zelda meant certain death, so he's not really inclined to introduce himself like when in a new and stressful situation (not to mention he might actually just not be a girl named Zelda anymore), so he automatically introduces himself as just Sheik the spooky ninja man, and fuck he's in too deep to back out now, looks like he's committing to the bit. If you think you sense the Triforce of Wisdom on him, no you don't.

Cue shenanigans as the five of them attempt to hide that they're all actually kind of A Big Deal. The group motto is "Nobody says shit", which is usually delivered as a frantic hiss whenever someone slips up. Just the reunion between Sheik and Mask alone would be absolutely buckwild given how they parted, and how they're both frantically pretending to Not be involved with each other. For added hilarity and/or drama, Sheik gives his semi-bullshit cover story of having just been a friend of the Hero of Time, then runs into said Hero of Time and they both have to desperately pretend not to know each other, because if anyone picks up on the mountain of baggage between them then Mask is busted, and he won't hesitate to drag Sheik down with him out of sheer spite. Not to mention the weird balance of Sheik being used to this Link being a teenager that's actually a small child, and now has to adjust to Link who is a small child that's actually a teenager.

Also, i really feel like we're all missing out on the comedy potential of Ganondorf recognizing Young Link on sight and the two of them immediately launching into a grudge match with some extremely personal and specific insults on both sides. Meanwhile literally everybody else is just standing there watching, trying to process the fact that out of every single person that's been pulled out of time, Ganondorf only has personal beef with a literal nine year old.

I just feel like we're all really sleeping on the potential for Shenanigans here. The whole thing is an absurd mess, why not have some fun with it?

#legend of zelda #hyrule warriors #for the record im picturing the sheik-mask reunion as being the spiderman pointing meme for like five minutes #also my mental image of sheik is extremely Bad haircut (he does it himself with a knife and doesnt care about making it even) #and a ridiculous tanline across his face from wearing a mask all day #OOT magiaclly growing out zelda's hair and manifesting a Royal Gown was some top tier bullshit and i'm always angry about it #like dude. literally all of princess zelda's finery was made for a ten year old #she's like eighteen now. nobody's making royal finery for teenage zelda. where was she supposed to get that dress. #i am eternally on my agenda to let zelda wear some goddamn pants without an immediate magic makeover to *fix* it #anyways nintendo's sexism aside i like sheik being trans its very fun and sexy of him #tfw you go into hiding to escape political assassination and accidentally trans your gender in the process

[shunsuiken]

I JUST CAN’T LEAVE YOU ALONE, CAN WE GET EVEN CLOSER?

pairing. kamisato ayato x gn!bodyguard!reader

genre. fluff for the most part + does get suggestive tho 😁

synopsis. the yashiro commissioner resorts to a scandalous method to get your attention.

wc. 1.5k (i know its short but i wanted to get straight to the point LMAO)

an. guys this is so dumb but one thing that popped up in my head while writing this is that tiktok of that girl going i slowly started to be seducted by him like he’s trying to SEDUCE me 😭😭😭 omg that shits so fuckin funny

“you’re too far away, y/n.”

your eye twitches as you stare at the wooden door. he’s teasing you. a filthy load of shamelessness drips in his tone. an arm rises so he can relax his cheek in his palm, eyeing your figure that has been standing in front of the door this whole time.

you realise why he’s decided to open his mouth after five minutes of dead silence.

you’re not looking at him.

“y/n, i said you’re too far away.” his voice is louder this time. it sounds closer to a command.

“i am standing at an appropriate distance from you, my lord.” you’re staring laser beams into the door at this point. “feel free to attend to your bathing requirements independently.”

ayato scoffs. a shiver crawls up your spine.

“it was my understanding that you, my personal bodyguard, were informed about the injuries i sustained during the failed fatui assassination attempt.” drawing circles in the water with the tip of his index finger, he sighs, “sadly, my current physical state renders me incapable of attending to my bathing requirements.”

“so i would be most grateful for your assistance.” you can practically see the grin on his lips, devilish and scheming.

before ayato picks up the bathing cloth, you’ve already given in, practically attaching your eyes to the bathtub as you sit on the stool provided for you. taking the cloth, you dip it in the water to soak it up before gently gliding it across his shoulders with shaky hands.

“ah, there we go. now wasn’t that easy?” ayato turns his face towards you, now showing more of his naked back—wet and glistening in all its glory.

you feel you might faint.

you hum in agreement, holding onto that blasted bathing cloth for dear life. ayato seems to notice and turns his whole body towards you out of curiosity, but your head snaps in the other direction instead!

“y/n, how will you help me bathe if you’re facing that way?” you can hear the water splash around the stone material of the tub. it drips down the side, slowly sliding towards the stone floor.

you’re his bodyguard. you’re his bodyguard. this wasn’t part of the job description—so why are you even here?!

“my lord, i find it difficult to provide assistance if you keep moving,” you respond indifferently, maintaining some level of professionalism despite how this situation has broken all levels of it.

from the corner of your eye, you can vaguely see his hair sticking to his collarbones and shoulders. ayato knows you can see him like this. so there’s simply no point in acting such a way. but he laughs, humoured by your behaviour anyway. “oh please drop the formalities. i am merely an injured man before you.”

a naked, injured man. you correct him silently.

“mm.” you don’t really know what else to say. how were you supposed to explain any of this to anybody if they caught you leaving the bathing hall with him?!

you soak up the wash cloth once more, beginning to clean him up again. avoiding all eye contact and opportunities of skinship turns out to be much more difficult than you thought. however, when it’s time to clean his chest area, you wordlessly pass the cloth back to him.

“hm?” he looks at you. “what about over here?” he asks, pointing at his chest shamelessly.

you gape at him—oh, you’re finally looking at him now. and you wish you didn’t.

ayato is so utterly gorgeous. cheeks dusted in a shade of pink from the steam and his lips, moistened and sanguine. he would have been recognised as a deity were it not for his mortal disposition.

ayato rather takes pleasure in this look on your face. baffled, stunned, dumbfounded—this list could go on! what he finds interesting though, is that your eyes never seem to go past his shoulders. and, ayato, being quite fond of his cute and adorable bodyguard, has to tease you.

“this is as far as i will go,” you inhale, feeling like your mask of indifference will crumble within seconds. “my lord, it would be inappropriate for me to assist you in this area.”

ayato’s brows raise in excitement, revelling in how you try to stay professional. you’re doing a much better job than he would’ve expected—if it were anybody else, they would have been seduced right away.

but it’s you that the lord is playing with. and he intends to play with you until he is satisfied.

“but you’ve already come this far, why not do the rest while you’re at it?” your bottom lip quivers.

ayato figures that he’ll need to try something else to get your attention to where it needs to be.

you gasp when he takes your hand in his, gently pulling you towards him until you’re sitting on the edge of the stone tub. your uniform is dampened as you sit on the edge but you can care less when ayato peers up at you with those lavender eyes.

“m- my lord, what do you intend to do?” you curse yourself silently for stuttering. the vapour from the bath water makes your cheeks hot and sticks your hair to your forehead.

kind of looks like you could use a bath too. ayato makes a brief comment in his mind, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he ponders on a response.

“get in the bath with me.”

a moment passes by. you swear you have never heard a more ridiculous request than this. for the past few years you’ve dealt with his unique appetite, his clothing requirements and his… special personality but this request is the first one that renders you speechless.

“what?”

“get in the bath with me,” ayato repeats, firmer this time.

you’ve lost feeling in your legs ever since he took your hand, but it’s not long before you’re soaked in bath water—with ayato there to soften the fall as your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders. you land with an oompf, fingers wiping droplets on your face, unfortunately missing the biggest grin on your boss’ lips.

“there, that was not so difficult, was it?” his voice is much closer by your ear now, sending a wave of chills down your spine.

you hesitantly meet his eyes, behind those pretty lashes and soft sky blue hair that clings to his forehead and cheeks. “wasn’t,” you mutter as your gaze shakes in your stare. you fear that if you tear your eyes away from him again he’ll do something else even more ridiculous.

the water swooshes and you fall onto your butt when ayato finds himself on top of your lap. you can feel his thighs just gently pressing against your own which is making you wonder how you haven’t already lost consciousness.

but it’s also making you think about things you never would’ve thought you would think about.

is ayato, your employer, trying to seduce you?!

you try to think of something to say. anything. doesn’t matter how random it could be. you inhale sharply, “so did you actually have work to do or did you just want me to loiter around you?”

“not to ‘loiter’,” ayato chuckles at your word choice while you think you’ve heard heaven’s gates fly right open. “but to ‘accompany’. i did indeed have work to complete but such a mind-numbing task becomes more bearable with you around.” he traces your cheek with the pad of his thumb, palm just ghosting over your ear. “do you know how adorable you look when you’re sitting by the door with that straight look on your face?”

“that is my job, my lord.” you don’t lean away from his touch. a good sign for him. “i didn’t think i would be such a distraction, if you would like, i could relocate just outsi-”

it’s featherlight. barely even a kiss. just a gentle brush of his lips over yours. but that miniscule feeling is like a fire and it burgeons in your chest, melting away the cold iceberg of your doubts and worries. there is no turning back now. it’s like your hand has grown a mind of its own when it wraps around ayato’s neck, pulling him closer so his lips collide with yours again.

“oh dear,” ayato mutters lowly. his hair tickles your cheek. “are my feelings being reciprocated?”

your lips are like magnets to his. it makes you grin at the revelation of your own emotions. “i fear you’ve successfully seduced me, my lord.” ayato smiles as your gaze flickers between his eyes and lips.

being caged between his arms has to be considered some sort of sport for your heart. the last time it threatened to leap out of your chest like this was during the official selection of ayato’s bodyguards.

“that makes a fine headline for the steambird, don’t you think?” ayato keeps his lips close to yours, doing everything he can in his power to not crash his lips onto yours again. and so pathetically too. “‘bodyguard allegedly seduced by the yashiro commissioner’.”

“indeed. now wouldn’t that shake things up here in inazuma,” you laugh, cupping your hands in the water to pour over what you can onto his shoulders. “well now that you’re all cleaned up, don’t you think you should get ready for bed?”

ayato gives you a pointed look. “will you dress me?”

“i-” you shouldn’t even pretend like you’re surprised by this. nodding your head, you reassure him, “that can be arranged.”

#ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #ayato x reader fluff #kamisato ayato fluff

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Ruin My Reputation

pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader

summary : he’s soft for you

warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting

a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.

“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.

It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.

“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.

“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”

“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.

“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”

“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.

You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.

“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”

You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?

“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”

The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe

“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”

“What’re you talking about, woman?”

“You got blood on my carpet.”

“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”

“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”

He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.

Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.

“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.

“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”

“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.

“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”

You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.

“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.

“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #x reader #oneshot #drabble #female reader #fem reader

[cute-sucker]

babysitting the sweetheart (part one-series)

[01.04.2024]

note: i wrote this a while ago, and it will be a series!! i have the plot figured out so it will be very very fluffy. (ask to be tagged btw!!) words: 1.3k summary: you're new to town, enjoying a coffee when rafe cameron's little daughter approaches you. you'll be fine...right?

part one

quite honestly going to the normal coffee place you went to every morning was supposed to be comforting. it wasn't supposed to be the place to be attacked by a 5 year old, and it was definitely not the place where you felt like you were going to die of fear. 

a very cute five-year-old at that, with pigtails and big blue eyes. she bounced up and down, with a big wobbly smile on her face. she had a pink princess dress on and a tiara that was bound to fall. 

you were mid-bite before she caught your hand. 

"can i have some? please, please, please," she pleaded to you. you choked on your hot coffee and watched struggle to her plop herself onto one of the high chairs. 

you searched for her parents, and then gave her a small tentative smile, before gently asking the question that was on your mind. 

"honey, where are your parents?" 

she quickly wilted, and you swore there were tears in her eyes, 

"i can't find my daddy. he told me not to go far but i didn't listen and now i might never find my daddy," she gasped out quickly. 

now you were alert, gritting your teeth and searching your surroundings. your few months in kildare had been nice, and it was the best place to rest and take some time off. but everything was so goddamn expensive. you'd never lived so lavishly, wearing the same clothes for weeks on end. 

this was supposed to be your new start, as you cleaned tables at night, and tried to write music during the day. you had always wanted to be an artist, and the beachy waves and cool lemonade persuaded you to continue. 

but with this little girl in front of you, you felt panicked. you turned around to look around once again before you set your eyes on her - she was sobbing, clutching her necklace that had the initial 'r,' on it. 

fat tears rolled down her face, and before you knew it you were carrying her off, embracing her in your arms and buying her two marshmallow cupcakes.

 honestly, the barista was nicer to her than he was ever nice to you. 

you made sure to tease him about that later, but now you had other things on your mind. 

"so what does he look like?" you asked her again. 

she pouted and let out a cry. then she got up, wiping her tears before stretching her arm in the air.

 "wee tall, and this big, and he's my daddy." 

"it's okay!" you said quickly, cursing yourself for asking the little five-year-old. "we'll find him, you couldn't have gone that far-" 

"wait! that's my daddy, it's him-" and then jumped out of his arm to the shadowy figure behind you. 

"i-" 

the figure picked her up, clutching her tightly. he was drop-dead gorgeous. you wondered how a man could be damn hot. with broad shoulders, dirty blonde buzzed hair and blue eyes that had an unhealthy hold on you. 

one, he was young to be a father, two he was pissed. 

the owner of the cafe suddenly burst out of the kitchen, "mr. cameron! what a delight to have you here. let me show you around-"

yet, he completely ignored him, kissing her daughter, and then looked up at you. he gave you a look that you'd given a mosquito.

"who the hell are you?" he seethed through gritted teeth, eyes set on your face. you felt beads of sweat drip down your forehead. okay, okay, calm down. 

"hey, listen-" 

"daddy!"

he stopped in his tracks, to look down at the little girl. he smiled at her softly, gently tracing her face. 

"hey love, where did you go? you know you should go off on your own," he told her gently, brushing away her stray hairs. he looked as if she was his whole world. she gave him a giddy smile and then pointed at the cupcake you had given you. 

her cheeks were full like chipmunks, and she looked way too adorable. 

"she saved me." 

suddenly he peered up at you, eyes squinted with an emotion you couldn't figure out. but then he went cold, giving you a small nod. 

you felt shivers travel all the way down to your spine. 

you felt like you should have known him because he had this aura. that he was important, and something in you wanted to please him. to make him happy, but you knew there was no winning with him. 

you were so lost in his eyes, that you noticed the strange look he was giving you. 

"thank you, ms-?" he prompted, his voice cold as ice. 

"uh, [last name]," you stammered out, feeling a bit off balance under his piercing gaze.

"well, thank you for looking after my daughter," he said, his voice softening slightly as he shifted his attention back to the little girl in his arms.

then he turned away, with his little girl nestled near his chest. while they turned around, she furiously waved at you, blowing air kisses. you found yourself smiling uncontrollably. 

your coffee was cold by the time you got to it. 

x

you scooted into your job, working at the local convenient job was embarrassing. it took hours for anything to happen, and the pay...

the pay was horrible! 

"it's time for your shift," jared commented, scrolling through his phone. he was a total tool who worked at the store to learn "life skills." his parents lived on figure eight, and were loaded. 

you trudged out there and found yourself at the cashier. 

"hi, ms. carrera!" you found yourself saying, serving your customers. 

the hours passed and you lay in the break room to rest. 

jared was still on his phone. here you were again, life sucked, and your phone was ringing. you got up, looking at the cracked screen. 

you had dropped it at least a million times. 

it was an unknown number, but who knew? you picked it up anyways. 

"hello?" 

"i'm going to pay you 10k a month." 

you stared dumbly into the phone and then started laughing. 

"uh huh, and get me the newest phone right?

"if that's what it takes." 

you found yourself giggling now, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you opened yourself some ice cream. 

"i'm sorry, who is this?" you asked while juggling your ice cream on your lap. you noticed that jared was watching you. 

"rafe cameron. you found my daughter the other day. i'd like to offer you a deal." he said, voice muffled. 

his tone was sharp was ever, but you could hear the knowing smirk, and that made you want to roll your eyes. but there was something about that low voice that made you shiver. 

"so...mr. cameron, what is 10k a month about?" you murmured into your phone and began to chip away at the ice cream. it was way cold, and your spoon nearly bent as you tried to scoop it into your mouth. 

"babysit my daughter lucy. if she's trouble, which i expect she will be," he laughed into the phone, "i'll double it." 

you could barely what you were hearing. he had to shitting you. 

"how about 15k and the phone?" you pressed, trying not to giggle. he was going to end the call now, you could feel it. 

"fine. i'll send the times and the address." 

it was here he hung the call. 

holy shit!

#series #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #obx fic #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #fluff #rafe obx #family #babysitting #dad!rafe #dad!rafe au #my fic #soft!rafe cameron #angst

[updownlately]

as long as i’m here (no one can hurt you)

| alessia x reader | hurt/comfort | 3.1k | disclaimer: mentions of anxiety & self loathing -this gets dark so please read at your own discretion! | a/n: based of this req! initially was supposed to be really fluffy but then somehow it just became 2/3 angst soooo welp. honestly it started off really strong imo but idk what happened towards the end, but oh well. not proofread as usual. anyways, take care amigos, happy reading!

~~~ 

Your heart’s in your throat and you don’t know how it got there. 

Your heart’s in your throat and the world around you’s dark.

Your heart’s in your throat and you don’t know where you are.

All you know is you’ve gotta go- you’ve gotta go fast- because if you stay any longer, the voices are going to catch up.

They’re going to catch up and they’re going to tell you- no scratch that- they’re going to remind- they’re going to remind you that aren’t good enough.

They’re going to remind you that there’s better, that there always will be someone smarter, more athletic, more confident, more outgoing, more fun.

They’re going to remind you that none of this is real- convince you that everything is just fake. That you’ve lost your mind enough to devise your own reality, where nothing exists yet everything is perfect. 

They’re going to remind you that you aren’t worthy. That you’ve fluked your way through life- everything gifted to you, everything undeserved. 

It’s the way it always goes. You running and running and running, only stopping either when the voices catch up or when you wake up, and if you were honest, you don’t know which one you prefer.

It’s not that you’d be dead, nor is it that you didn’t want to be alive.

It’s that you don’t know how you could explain to the sleeping girl beside you that even with every second you lay asleep, the voices in your head don’t cease. 

That each time she comforts you as you wake, shirt damp with sweat, shuddering breath escaping your lips, the words get louder in your mind.

And with each circle rubbed into your back, or reassuring word mumbled against your tangled hair, you think about how she could do better, better than you, better than this mess of troubling dreams, this mess of tangled voices, nonexistent but real to you, shouting, screaming, yelling, reminding you, telling you, letting you know.

You aren’t good enough, nor will you ever be. 

She deserves better, better than you.

You’re a fraud, a fake, a phony. 

The words repeat and repeat and repeat. 

~~~

It’s the third time this week, and it’s only Wednesday, that you wake up, heart racing, palms sweating as you try and regulate your uneven breaths.

It’s new to you, this whole nightmare thing.

You’d even go as far as to call yourself a lucky child, able to count on one hand how many nightmares you had when you were younger.

Now? Now though, it’s a miracle if you sleep through the night. 

You don’t know when it started- maybe sometime between the middle of last season and its end- when all you saw attached to your name was negative chatter. 

Flooding comments on social media calling you unreliable, unworthy, unneeded for your team. 

Offhand remarks of how you could’ve played better, could’ve done more, didn’t deserve a starting position, maybe would be better as a late sub, for the sake of the team. 

Maybe it was when you spent countless hours post practices perfecting your free kicks and running shots, only to be told to not take them as much, the dismissing tone in your coach’s voice clear, disapproval clear in their eyes. 

Words said and said and said, their intent to hurt, to prick, to wound successful.

It was those words that rang out in your dreams, among the thousands of other outcries you were used to having directed your way.

You thought you could take it, firmly believed so. 

You were a professional athlete for fuck’s sake, a little bit of verbal battering was nothing you couldn’t handle, right?

At least that’s what you told yourself each time you woke up in cold sweat, mind exhausted, heart tired as you tried to remind yourself those opinions weren’t facts. 

As usual, it led you to now. 

Now being you stiffly lying on your side of the bed, the room bathed in darkness, only the sound of Alessia’s soft snores to be heard.

Swallowing hard, you shuddered as fragments of your latest nightmare floated through your mind.

This one was different from the usual. 

This one might have even been the worst. 

The nightmare had started off as they typically do, the realistic image of the team’s pitch clear in your mind.

It seemed to be a replay of a normal game day. 

Arsenal dressed in their bright red jerseys, your opponents in a shade of blur, all the same but unidentifiable- not like it mattered much anyways- you didn’t need much convincing to feel how real it seemed.

It felt like a normal game day, but you saw yourself in third person, following yourself on the pitch like a drone, able to see each mistake you made so sharply, so distinctly.

You watched in horror as you tripped over your feet. Your heart dropped as you passed the ball directly to the other team. You’re nearly in tears watching as each tackle you made either did nothing or nearly took out the opposing player. 

You looked on in fear as the crowd begged for you to be subbed off. 

Your own home crowd, cheering any time you lost the ball, any time you slipped and fell, any time you erred. 

As much as it hurt each time the dream played out, this was normal to you. 

You were used to this. 

Used to the sinking feeling in your stomach. The flips it would do as you felt your heart break, the realization that maybe you just didn’t matter, the thought that you didn’t need to exist floating through your mind as your throat closed up. 

The sinking feeling as you realized you were unwanted was nothing new. 

The knowledge that you just weren’t good enough was basically a mantra ingrained in your mind.

So even though it hurt as if it was new each time, you were used to it. 

This was normal, no matter how many times it occurred, night in night out, it had become a part of you.

What wasn’t normal though, was how the game faded away slowly for once, a new environment blurring into your vision, the once typical dream changing drastically. 

You tried to shake your head in your mind, very much disoriented at the unfamiliar setting. 

You weren’t at the field anymore. The green grass you were always so used to seeing, the one that haunted you now in real life, gone within seconds. 

Instead, in its place, was a dark atmosphere, bright lights flashing occasionally as you felt vibrations hum through you rhythmically. 

Hearing laughter coming from your left, you whipped your head to the side.

Mere metres away from you stood the rest of your team, all dressed to enjoy a night out, drinks cradled in their hands.

You were at a club.

Chest constricting as you watched the girls peer over at you, then laugh, you felt your face flush, embarrassment seizing your ability to breathe. 

Quickly turning around, you searched for Alessia. 

Alessia usually made the anxiety go away.

Alessia was safe.

Alessia. 

You needed to find her.

Pushing your way through the mass of crowded, faceless bodies crammed in front of you, you tried to look for the blonde. 

The further you went though, the smaller you seemed to get.

With each step you were taking, the room seemed to grow in size, the people around you taller, peering judgmentally at you as you pushed through, the faceless partygoers somehow displaying a clear emotion of distaste at your presence.

You could feel your heart beat faster with each second.

Too many people.

You needed to find Alessia.

Too many people. 

You couldn’t breathe.

Too many people.

Alessia.

Continuing to push through the mass, air getting harder and harder to breathe, you closed your eyes, blindly moving forward.

Squeezing your way past the final few bodies, you felt yourself stumble as you came across a hallway, the door at the end of it bathed in a dim glow.

Maybe she was there?

Unable to stop yourself, your mind pleading for you to do so but frozen, your feet carried you towards the light.

You wanted to find Alessia. 

You needed her right now, and you’d do whatever it took. 

Hands shaking at the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you approached the door, fingers reaching out to rest on the door. 

Surely Alessia had to be here, right? 

You’d soon get your comfort…

Letting out a shaky breath at the thought of finally being okay soon, in the presence of Alessia, you pushed the door open, ready to feel okay, only for your eyes to widen as you felt a lump form in your throat. 

No, surely not. No…no…no…

Frozen in your spot, you stared, white as ghost, at the sight in front of you.

There, in the dark room ahead, was Alessia.

Except she wasn’t alone.

Eyes flitting between the blonde and the faceless body in her arms, you felt your world crash.

There she was, your girlfriend, your Alessia, arms wrapped around another person that wasn’t you. 

Another person that had their body pressed against hers in a way that was most definitely not friendly, not platonic in the least.

In front of you stood the two, hair dishevelled, their eyes as wide as yours, mouths agape as they realized they’d been caught. 

In front of you stood your Alessia, in the arms of another, as you finally felt the ground slip away from beneath you.

~~~

You knew it was just a dream.

You knew she wouldn’t cheat on you.

You knew it.

You believed it.

You felt it, each and every day that she loved you.

Yet, in this moment, darkness bathing you as the silence stretched on, the sinking feeling in your stomach and the way your heart still hadn’t stopped aching since you’d woken up told you otherwise.

Furiously wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes, you tried to do your best not to sniffle, lest you wake your girlfriend up.

You already had a dream about her cheating- you didn’t want to go and make your night worse by waking her when she so desperately needed her rest. 

Doing your best to take deep breaths, you tried to regulate your shaky breathing.

Slowly inhaling and exhaling, you paid keen attention to how much noise you were making with each gasp. 

You needed to be quiet- had to be quiet. 

She couldn’t see you like this.

No, you wouldn’t let her. 

Taking a chance, you slowly turned your head to the side, eyes tracing the faint outline of the striker’s face as you wiped another round of tears on your hands.

Every single fibre in you wanted so desperately to reach out, to be in her hold, to let her soft murmur comfort you like countless times before. 

But you couldn’t.

You’d get through this night eventually.

Closing your eyes in frustration at the impending headache you knew was coming, you pressed the heel of your palms harshly to your eyes. 

You’d be okay. You’d be okay. You’d be okay.

Repeating the words to yourself, you whined in frustration, unable to find yourself to believe the words.

It was only when your eyes stung due to brute force did you realize what you had just done, freezing as you heard shuffling beside you.

Holding your breath, you felt Alessia’s arm reach out blindly towards you, sleepily patting around, trying to find your body, her even in her sleep ready to take care of you. 

You couldn’t have her wake up for you, not again. Not when it’s been multiple nights of her waking up, holding you till the dawn breaks, treating you ever so carefully, so delicately,

Letting go of the breath you were holding as you heard the movement stop, you closed your eyes as more tears of frustration escaped. 

How many times- how many fucking times were you going to wake up each night?  Why, why for the love of god, could your mind not be normal? 

Flexing your jaw as you tried to force your emotions away, you didn’t see the way Alessia sleepily awoke from beside you.

Mind preoccupied by not waking up the Gunner, you didn’t realize that she had long since been awake, trying to give you the time to collect yourself like she knew you wanted. 

In all honesty, the blonde had been up before you had been.

Recent days had oddly trained her to sleep a bit lighter. The combined with hearing your mumbling during your dreams had easily woken her up. 

She’d let you be though, well aware that you hated that she woke up each time. 

So she laid in silence, doing her best to continue her sleepy state, hoping that the night didn’t get too horrible, that she didn’t have to step in, for your sake. 

She stayed awake though, lethargically alert, ready to jump in if needed. 

Throat tightening up when she heard your sniffles, the furious movement of your hands as you wiped your tears away quietly pulling at her heart strings, the blonde quietly laid there as you dealt with the storm in your mind. 

A stalemate of sorts, an inevitable cycle of hurt. 

Slowly but surely though, your sniffles died down, movement slowing as you calmed, initial stabbing pain at the nightmare slowing until it became a dull ache.

It’s then that Alessia chose to take her chances, knowing you were easier to talk to after you had ridden your wave of emotions. 

“You think you’re hurting me each time you wake me up, but I don’t think you realize how much it pains me to see you like this…”

The words a near whisper into the darkness, Alessia waited a beat before slowly turning to face you, head resting on her arm as she faced you.

Please let me help you. 

The plea went unsaid.

Continuing, the whispered words brought on another round of damp eyes.

“You think you’re protecting me, but if it’s just hurting you more and I care for you, are you really succeeding?”

Let me be there to comfort you. 

Feeling her heart start to pound at your silence, Alessia wondered if you’d fallen asleep. 

Raising her head to try and decipher whether you were awake, she waited as a beat passed, and then another, both without an inch of movement from you. 

Shaking her head at the cruel timing between her speaking and your presumably sleeping state, the blonde opened her mouth to sigh, only to be cut off by your timid voice.

“I hate it enough that I have to go through this…it’s not fair to make you go through it too…”

The shaky admission had the blonde’s breath catching in her throat.

She never once felt forced to be there for you. Never. 

The fact that being a burden to her had you holding back so significantly pained her to hear. 

If the constricting of her heart at your quiet sobs had hurt, then the admission nearly felt like being stabbed. 

You weren’t a burden- not to her. Not now, not ever. She just needed to make sure you knew that. Believed it. 

“You’re not making me go through anything. I want to be there for you. I want to be able to hold you through the good nights and the bad. Especially the bad. You aren’t a burden to me…”

Swallowing lightly at the prolonged silence that followed her words, Alessia continued, shuffling closer to you until she was nearly pressed up against your side, only a sliver of space between the two of you.

“You make it seem like me loving you is a burden. That I can love you only when you’re perfect...when you’ve got it all together and don’t need a shoulder to cry on.

I don’t want that though. I don’t want to love you when you’re pristine. I want to love you when the days are dark and it’s raining so hard that you’re confined inside. I want to love you when it’s four pm and you didn’t sleep the night before and you’re grumpy because your coffee’s too cold. I want to love you when you can’t remember what it’s like to be loved. When it’s nearly three am and you’re having a nightmare and you don’t know who to turn to. That’s when I want to love you- when you need it most.”

A silence blanketed the room at the end of Alessia’s admission, only the quiet hum of the electrical wiring to be heard.

Feeling her cheeks heat up but not finding it in herself to care- to be embarrassed- the blonde took her chances.

Slowly letting her arm come to wrap around your midsection, she pulled you close.

With you still laid on your back, the side of your torso pressed up against the striker’s front, your hands gently intertwined as she found where it rested under the sheets, she continued. 

“Not waking me won’t do either of us good. Yes, you could deal with it on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I want to be there for you. I want to hold you when things get tough. I want to love you. You just need to let me do that…”

Feeling you nod in response, she moved to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Moving to lay on her back as she felt you turn towards her, the Gunner opened her arms in an easy welcome, gathering you in her embrace as you sank into her comfort. 

Whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ at your understanding, she wondered out loud if you wanted to talk about it.

A quiet but firm ‘no’ escaping your lips, she nodded her head in understanding as ran her hand through your hair.

If you didn’t want to talk, so be it- as long as you let her love you, take care of you, hold you, it didn’t matter. 

As long as you felt loved, because you very much were if Alessia had anything to say about it.

Hands coming to wrap strongly around you, you sighing contently at the warmth as you felt the tiredness of the past hour catch up with you, the pair of you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, Alessia’s last tiredly whispered sentence ringing reassuringly, protectively in your mind as the tension in your shoulder eased.

"It's easy to love you on your good days, but I want to love you on your worst. On the days you don't believe in love and don't think you deserve it, it's when I want to love you most. 'Cause I'll love you through all of them, now and forever, if you let me."

'If I could change the way that you see yourself, you wouldn’t wonder why you hear ‘they don’t deserve you'"

#this one gets dark- sorry guys #not proofread because we don't do that here #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #woso #my writing #fic req #hurt/comfort #fic #alaih

[jksprincess10]

I can sabotage me by myself || Joel Miller x reader

A/N: This is a part two of lucky for me, I run on spite and sweet revenge. Can be read on its own. I wanted to write more of ennemy!yn and violent Joel.

CW: Attempted rape (not graphic), violence, jealous!Joel, Joel being toxic and protective, smut, thigh riding, car sex, angst but comfort, language, rough filthy sex, toxic relationship (seriously if a man talks to you like that, leave his ass).

Read part 3 here

After that night, you said you’d try to work together. Well, sort of. You made some deals that would advantage both of you. But most of the time, you just tried to stay out of his way and him, out of yours. Sometimes, you’d also meet in the darkness of the night to fulfill your desires of violence and lust.

Tonight, you had a huge deal to help out your group and Joel. You were supposed to get a car battery for a vehicle that you found just outside of the QZ. It was in good shape; it just needed a new battery. With a car, you’d be able to cover more distance outside of the QZ.

Joel was supposed to meet you, but you decided to go to the headquarter first. Part of you wanted to show him that you were capable of doing this alone, that he could benefit more from you than you could benefit from him.

You were so wrong.

You met Noah’s assistant, Elijah, at the group’s headquarters. They had a strong hand over most deals inside the walls. They were very powerful, and Noah and Elijah were known to be very dangerous men. But you knew men like them. They all had the same weaknesses.

“You got what we want?” You asked Elijah without waiting for him to talk first. He was alone, but you knew there was always more men lurking around and waiting for his signal.

“Yeah. Thought you’d come with Miller, though.” He pointed you to the battery to show that it was legit. It had barely any wear to it.

“He was busy.” You justified.

You were satisfied with the battery. You kneeled on the floor to open your bag to get your things to exchange. You had fresh vegetables that you had grown.

“Wait, baby doll, I thought you would give me something else.” He shot with a suggestive look.

You tried to get up to your feet, but he held you there. Catastrophic scenarios ran through your head as he was caressing your shoulders slowly.

“That’s not how I work anymore.” You said coldly.

But he kept going. You waited for him to be distracted, before twisting his wrist. He groaned in pain, which sufficed to alert his other men. Soon, four men, including Elijah, trapped you in a circle of their bodies. You fought how you could; biting and cutting, not wanting to alert more people by using your gun. You knew you couldn’t last long that way though, and soon, you found yourself with your cheek on the cold ground, trying to counter the blows of fists and the kicks to your body. You tried to take everything silently in hopes they would stop, until the world became disappeared before your eyes, replaced by pure darkness.

***

You woke up to grunts and the sound of violent punches. You barely moved not to alert anyone; besides, your whole body was sore.

“What the FUCK have you done to her?!”

You barely turned your head to the sound of the familiar voice. Joel. Three of the men were already dead, their lifeless bodies close to yours. The only left was Elijah, in a struggle with the older man, who was trying to strangle him.

“Since when do you care about this whore, Miller?!”

That was enough to enrage him even more. He saw everything in red. Elijah was thrown to the ground and Joel punched him repeatedly  in the face, teeth, and blood flying to the ground, until he was silenced forever.

Slowly, you sat up, wincing under the pain. The sound of you getting up took Joel out of his violent fit, well, you thought so.

“You fucking careless girl… I said not to fucking go alone.”

He took the battery in one arm, before grabbing you with his hand to force you to get up completely. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming in pain.

“I don’t fucking need you Miller.” You spat at his face, before painfully trying to get away from him.

“Well, now since you put us in deep shit, you’re stuck with me. And we have to leave. Far. Before they find us. Can you run?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll have to try, because I sure can’t carry you with this battery. And we’ll need it to get as far away as possible.”

You nodded and followed him in the dark alleyways to try and outwit the men that would try to follow you as they were alerted with the noise. A few of them did try, yes, but luckily, Joel shot them first as you painfully tried to stick to the older man’s side.

***

You didn’t have a hard time to get out of the QZ, you two had your ways around it. The car battery miraculously worked and you silently jumped to the passenger side, grateful to finally be able to sit down, even though it sent pain down your whole body.

Joel was driving in his silent rage. You took the time to look at him, he had a few cuts on his face and hands, but he was mostly okay.

You, on the other hand… You got scared by your own reflection in the car mirror. You looked like someone had tried to paint parts of your face in blue and purple, but the painting wasn’t pretty, it was grotesque and sad.

“I’m sor-” You tried to articulate.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear a fucking word from your mouth, girl.”

He didn’t have to be so disrespectful. Filled by your hate, you stuck your knife in the old car leather seat, near his face. He barely flinched, knuckles turning white as they were holding the wheel.

“Fuck you, Miller.” You said as you spat blood out of the window.

And that was the last sentence you addressed to him in a while.

The car eventually stopped at a spot that was deemed safe. It looked like an old car dump. Surely, you’d be invisible here. You tried to sleep in the passenger seat to recover slowly, while Joel was trying to find water and a small rabbit to eat.

He opened the door when he was back. You lost the track of time, but he seemed successful. A fire was already started. He helped you sit near the warmth source. He fed you cooked pieces of meat, slowly and patiently. Even though you could tell he was tired from his chocolate eyes. Even though he could tell you wanted to bite his fingers off.

“He tried to force me…” You finally said, before choking on a sob, letting go of your anger for Joel.

He didn’t say anything and took a piece of cloth out of his backpack, before wetting it with the water that was turning lukewarm. He cleaned your face and you leaned into the older man’s touch, like a cat starved for more pets.

“I don’t want to do that again, Joel. I… there must be another way, right?”

He nodded silently. He was still visibly mad.

“Can I see the damage on your legs to clean your wounds?”

You let him help you take down your pants, discovering a new grotesque and bloody painting. He kept cleaning your wounds silently, and in this moment, you were thankful for him. You put up your jeans when he was done and took a clean piece of the rag to wash the cuts on his face. Your lips placed a kiss on the wound over his bushy eyebrow, collecting a bit of blood there. You licked your lips to feel the pain he was in. He took your hands in his to stop you.

“You should sleep in the car to be more comfortable.” He simply said coolly. “I’ll keep watch.”

Without another word, your disappeared into the backseat of the car with a blanket you had found in one of the vehicles that was dumped here. You fell in a mostly comfortable sleep.

The door opened, and you heard it like you were still in your dreams. A warm body pressed to yours, arms flexing to lift you up to his mouth. You opened your eyes with Joel’s chapped lips still on yours and you leaned into the kiss. You both tasted like remains of blood and meat, but you didn’t care. The kiss stopped only when he held you down by the throat, carefully, barely pressing.

“For the record, I’m still mad at you.”

You nodded with a grin and put your small fingers around his wrist, pressing against his rough skin.

“And I don’t want you to fuck with another man, ever. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll take care of you. If another man tries to touch you, he will end up dead like all of those idiots.”

You nodded again, too numb to talk.

“And I’ll take care of the deals.”

You slapped his hand so he would leave your throat, and he did.

“Nope. You’ll come with me, that’s all.” You argued.

“But-”

“Didn’t know you were such a talker, Miller. I preferred when you would shut the fuck up or just use your mouth to insult me.”

He groaned, before adding: “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s the only way I’ll keep working with you, and you need me. I’m a great distraction.”

“That, you are.” You finally saw him smile.

You left him more space and he sat down beside you, before you slowly straightened up. You found lazily your way to his lap, thighs on each side of his legs. You felt pain everywhere, but you needed to be close to him. His rough hand stroked slowly your cheek while he looked up at you with a hardened gaze.

“Tell me you won’t be with another man.” His voice was stern.

“Can’t promise…” You responded with a shit-eating grin.

His free hand undid your pants and dragged them down to your thighs with your panties, before he slapped your ass harshly. You let out a cry of pain, body falling onto his, before the hand that was stroking your face held your hair. He pulled on your strands to make you look at his face. You hated how this scary side of him turned you on, but your relationship always had been like this.

“Tell. Me.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t what?” He pulled more on your hair.

“Be with another man. I promise. Don’t need anyone else.” Ironic for someone who had told him earlier you didn’t need him.

He finally let go and you could catch your breath again. In your heart, you knew that you were sincere. But softness would wait. Fingers slowly traced your slit as you felt warmth traveling down your body. You fell on him again, too weak to hold yourself up. This time, he accepted it and held you with his other hand as he placed soft kisses on your forehead, the only part of your face that wasn’t bruised. You didn’t know why he still wanted you in that terrible state, but you were thankful for the distraction from the pain.

“I’ll make you cum once. And I want you to ride my thigh. Understood?”

“Talk less.” You simply said with a grin.

One of his fingers found its way to your clit, which he teased too softly. You pressed your hips into his touch, aching for more. He understood, picking up the pace as two other fingers took care of your entrance. He filled you up like this, while his finger was flicking over your sensitive ball of nerves. You Kept moving your hips as you felt your release coming. His free hand slapped your ass a few times, the pain bringing you faster to your edge. You came with a soft moan, his name glued to your lips. His wet fingers came up to your lips and you happily sucked them in your mouth, before biting them. He let go of your mouth, before he lazily took off completely the bottom half of your clothes.

He positioned you over his clothed thigh, where you left a small trail of your juices. With a hand on the small of your back, he helped you move against his leg, the friction stimulating your body again. Your own thigh was pressing into his bulge, pleasuring him with each movement against his thigh. You both looked like desperate teenagers trying to get it on in your first car while your parents thought you had gone to the cinema.

“Hm… not enough, Joel…” You moaned softly against his ear as you grinded on his thigh. “Want you to fill me up. Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. ” He admitted, brown eyes filled with more concern than lust.

“I don’t care about pain. This pain is better… than the rest. You’re the only man that I’ll let hurt me. Please.”

“Okay.” He responded in a breath, your words going straight to his erection. His experienced hands undid his belt, and he took his member out, leaving the rest of him completely clothed. You both were too desperate to take more time.

He spat on his hand to wet you more, before sliding you down his cock. You breathed harshly. Your whole body hurt, but you were hoping that the pleasure would wash away the pain. You didn’t have to move anymore, he held you down as he fucked into you harshly, his hips coming up and down as he pleasured himself with your body. You buried your face into the older man’s neck, sucking on his skin to hide your moans. He let you hide, too concentrated on his own pleasure.

After a while, he slowed down a bit. He was tired and his stamina was running out, his age catching up to him.

“Tired, old man?” You asked, amused.

“Killing… people… does… that… to you.” He responded between thrusts.

Your teasing gave him the strength necessary to fuck you harshly. You hid your moans against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and licking into his mouth as he was approaching his end. He pulled out and cum spilled between you two, marking your thighs. He washed you two up with an old rag and let you fall back into the backseat.

“Joel… I was… I was sincere. Were you?”

“I was.”

“Good. And for the record, I’m… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“I forgive you.”

He massaged softly your sore legs under the blanket as you drifted back to sleep.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x reader

[rebelliousstories]

Fallout

Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard

Peachy

Lucy gets a front row seat to the strange happenings in the Wasteland.

Pretty as a Peach

There’s something odd about this girl that had started traveling with the duo. But it does give Lucy a peak behind the curtain on the Wasteland’s most notorious partners in crime.

Not On My Watch

(Request) There is something that can flip a switch in even the most trusting of men; jealousy. Now what switch that is all depends on the man.

Faces of Old, Faces of New

Holing up in some abandoned movie theater, Cooper is shocked to find one of his old films still in the projector.

My Father’s Daughter

(Request) When his buddy calls, Cooper has no clue the whirlwind he is in for.

Vaultie

(Request) If Cooper Howard had a nickel for every time he came across an escaped vault dweller looking to find her father and to change the world…

Not Like The Movies

(Request)How Cooper got landed with someone of her sunny disposition, he will never now. And it does not help that she knows his films.

Kiss Me You Animal series

The Ghoul and The Freak meet by chance, and what follows is a whirlwind of a time together.

Toxic as Rads

(Request)They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.

Bounty

(Request)When a bounty comes in, Cooper is intent on cashing in. The caps they were offering were worth it. How in the hell does she stay ahead of him?

Ex Lover’s Lover

Cooper Howard gets introduced to a new up and coming actress after his divorce is finalized. What happens when Barb finds out that Janey has been spending time with the two of them?

My Baby Shot Me Down

After a stint on set, Cooper has to call into question whether or not being a relationship is beneficial for her.

Rock A Bye Baby

(Request) Two hundred years seems like a long time, but there is somethings that never change; no matter how much time had passed.

Old Wounds

She was supposed to be dead. He held her while she died in his arms. How is she here?

Out and About

(Request)When a kid suddenly pops up in the Wasteland, you treat that child like a bear cub; don’t even look at it until you’ve confirmed it’s alone.

Safe and Sound

(Request)This child was still so small, defenseless, and vulnerable. Although Cooper keeps trying to help her out on basic skills to survive the Wastelands.

Over and Under

A ghoul, a child, a vault-dweller, and a dog meet up, by chance, in the Wasteland…

Wear My Ring Around Your Neck

(Request)Wedding rings can be common and look like any other ring. Some are really extravagant and can be easily spotted out in a crowd. The same could be said for people; even years and years later.

Norm MacLean

Speak Now

(Request)On what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she can not help but feel Norm is hiding something.

What We Have Seen

(Request)When the plan to repopulate Vault 32 is set into motion, two people have to find a way to work around the set backs.

What Did You Say?

(Request)The whole reason they got married was with the goal of repopulation. That is why anyone in the Vaults gets married. Being married to Norm is a challenge all on its own.

Take My Breath Away

(Request) Finding out they were expecting was one thing. Actually being there through the pregnancy is another.

Maximus

First

(Request)When you finally get over one hurdle, there is another waiting for you.

Awkward Glances

(Request) He was an aspirant. She was a medic. Could I make it anymore obvious?

#rebelliousstories #writing #the ghoul fallout #fallout imagine #fallout #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul

[saetoru]

#𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru has ruined your best friend’s life—and you’re about to make it a whole lot worse yourself ; part 2 here

— pairing ⋮ gojo satoru x reader

— length ⋮ 2.1k words

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, mentions of betrayal (gojo is your best friend’s ex and you fuck him), (slight) mutual pining, toxic! gojo, lovesick! gojo, (slightly) mean! gojo, car sex, light choking, edging, unprotected sex, praise, creampie

— notes ⋮ this is for my soulmate @bxnten 's burn book collab <3 we r mean girls to everyone but each other hehe ily kitty cat <33

gojo satoru is a sleazy, backstabbing, knife-twisting, and heartbreaking asshole. he has little regard for others, doesn’t bother to ponder the weight of his actions, acts as though the world revolves around him, and you’re sick of him—or so you tell yourself. 

he’s made your friend’s life hell, really. he’s made her cry, made her question her worth, made her sacrifice things she shouldn’t have to, made her so unhappy, that you can’t help but wish you could punch him in his (perfect) teeth. you tell yourself you’re sick of picking up phone calls that turn into hours worth of tearful rants, and you tell yourself you’re sick of being haunted by his cocky smirk as he shoots you a wink in the back of your mind. it’s how any good friend would feel—any good friend would look at him and wish he’d drop dead on the spot for all the times he’s fucked up. 

but you suppose you’re not half as good of a friend as you once thought you were—maybe you’re not as fiercely loyal as you gave yourself credit for. because what kind of friend would be sprawled on the backseat of the ex’s car that they’re supposed to hate? what kind of a friend would cling desperately to the same man they’ve said probably has a small dick anyway, drunk on the drag of his cock? what kind of friend would ever think about getting with their friend’s ex—let alone actually do it?

you, apparently.

“that feel good, sweetheart?” he chuckles, hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. your head spins at the cut-off of oxygen, a shaky gasp falling off your lips as your stare up at him. gojo chuckles, loosening his grip, kissing away the stray tears on your cheek as you whimper at the shallow thrust of his hips. “you like when i do this, huh? like when i fuck you like this? bet you like me, don’t you?” he grins cheekily.

he’s an asshole. 

a horrible, heartless, selfish, insensitive, and self-absorbed asshole. but his cock drags along your walls so good, the stretch making your mind fog and your back arch until your chests meet, your nipples brushing against his through the fabric and making you both groan.

“act like you hate me so bad, but i bet you were just mad, huh? are you mad i didn’t pick you first, is that it?” he pouts, squeezing your cheeks together and leaving you with no choice but to look at him as he presses his forehead to yours.

but you’re stubborn, you have been since you first met. you refuse to shake his hand when he first offers it, refuse to be on civil terms when he third wheels hangouts, and refuse to apologize first after any arguments that might stir. and you’re stubborn now too, closing your eyes to have some level of power of your own against him—but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop and gritting his teeth as he feels the burn of his orgasm die down.

you whine, buck your hips, and open your eyes as you stare at him confused, “what the fuck? why’d you—”

“asked you a question, sweetheart,” he sneers, hand finding its way down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that have you whining as your head tosses back.

“p-please, gojo—need it—”

“uh uh,” he drawls, that annoying, infuriating, and sickeningly smug little smile on his face as he looks down at you, “you gotta answer my question. then i’ll give you what you want,” he pats your cheek. “you wish i picked you, don’t you baby?”

“no,” you spit, glaring at him harshly, “you’re a fucking asshole. you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, and you couldn’t love someone if your life depended on it. fucking dickhead—” you cut yourself off with a squeal when his fat tip slams into you all of a sudden, right against your spot, making your arms wrap tightly around his neck as your legs hook around his waist.

you’re clinging to him desperately by now, sobbing with every harsh roll of his hips, crying out every time his navel bumps along your clit and pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. gojo’s jaw is clenched, his hands gripping your hips so tight, you almost think there’ll be bruises by the time he’s done. your slick and his pre cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his dick and a trail down the inner sides of your thighs, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have made a cheeky comment about how wet you are.

“oh yeah, is that right? i don’t care about feelings? i can’t love someone?” he laughs, but there’s not a trace of amusement in his tone—it’s so condescending, so mean, you have to fight back tears. “you’re the best friend. i’m just an ex. wait till she finds out just how much you care,” he spits, venom lacing his tone as you gasp, shaky and just a little scared. it satisfies him maybe a tad bit too much. “i bet she’ll be thrilled to hear how lost on my cock you get, always beggin’ for more—aren’t you just a greedy little thing?”

“n-no,” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt tightly, fighting the wobble of your lips at the thought. “you can’t. you can’t! please, gojo, you can’t tell her, sh-she…she’ll never speak to me again a-and—”

“aw, don’t cry sweetheart,” he laughs, and his hips are slamming into your abused cunt mercilessly now, making your walls flutter around him as he lets out a low grunt, moaning against your ear—and he sounds so pretty, so sweet and divine and perfect, it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

you almost understand why it took your friend as long as it did to finally leave him.

“please, gojo,” you sniffle, teary eyes staring up at him pleadingly. it makes his heart jump, makes his heart ache a little deep in his chest.

because you’re wrong. he isn’t always an asshole, and he does care sometimes—in fact, he always cares when it’s about you. gojo satoru thinks he’d let the sun bleed out if he had to, as long as he has your smile to brighten his days for as long as he lives. because you’re wrong, he can love—and he loves you desperately.

he never wanted to fall in love with his girlfriend’s best friend. never wanted to be a shallow man with even shallower intentions, but who could hear your laugh and see your smile and not fall head over heels? it makes him mad—hurts deep in his chest and aches so bad, that he thinks you’re almost bad for his health. you don’t bat an eyelash at him, don’t even wanna be around him for longer than you have to be—and yet, he wants you by his side for longer than eternity. he can’t help but wish he met you first, can’t help but hate the universe for being so cruel, so heartless for making him find the one person he wants more than anything like this. 

he wants you badly, and the worst part is even if you want him too, you’d never let yourself indulge in something as retched as a betrayal—even if technically, you already have the second his cock sank into you. 

so he presses a gentle kiss between your brows, leaves a trail of kisses along your cheek and jaw, and he hovers over your lips. “i won’t tell,” he mumbles against them, making your breath hitch in shock, “won't say a word if you call me toru, yeah? jus’ say toru, just once, yeah? i gotta hear it.”

“promise?” you sniffle, “you promise you won’t tell?”

“promise,” he agrees with a nod, and he even holds out a pinky to seal the deal. a soft grin spreads across his lips when your own pinky hooks around his, the warmth of your touch, as small as it might be, lighting him up until he feels like his chest is pressed with the weight of the sun.

“kay,” you mumble, “need more, toru—please, gimme more,” you beg, and his name tastes so sweet rolling off your tongue, so saccharine it almost feels like it’s dripped with honey, trickling past your lips and rolling down your chin for him to kiss off. it makes your head spin that you never want to say gojo again now that you’ve gotten a taste of toru. 

with a shaky exhale against your mouth at the sound of his name, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, desperate and needy and just a little starved. his cock is aching by now, throbbing in your dripping core, balls heavy and ready to release as he rolls his hips faster into you. his skin slaps against yours, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your wet cunt filling the small space of his car, his body towering over you in the cramped back seat. he lets his hand find the soft flesh of the back of your thigh, hoisting your leg over his shoulder as he angles himself deeper into you, letting out a strangled cry when your walls flutter around him tightly. 

“fuck, that’s it—g-gonna be the death o’ me, sweetheart,” he grunts, “so good, takin’ me so well, yeah? so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps. his thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles and watching entranced as tears spill past your lash line, staining your cheeks with a soft, wet glisten that makes his heart squeeze and his chest tighten. “god, you’re so perfect, so pretty. my pretty girl,” he coos, “my. pretty. girl,” each word is followed by a sharp thrust, and the slam of his tip against your sweet spot, and the way he sounds so possessive as he claims you as his makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin through his shirt.

“toru, toru, ‘m close—please, ‘m so close—”

“i know, baby,” he pants, moaning into your neck as his head buries into the small space, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “‘m close too, gonna cum—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he whines. 

“fuck—toru, toru, ‘m…‘m cumming,” you scream, your orgasm crashing over your body, making your arms wrap around him tightly as you cling to him and sob. your walls spasm around him erratically, the sound of your mewls as you cry his name pushing him into his own release. 

his head digs into your shoulder, his body trembling over yours as he lets his hips slam into you sloppily, thick ribbons of cum painting your walls white as you feel his cock twitch with every rope. 

“oh fuck, baby, that’s it—sh-shit, feels so good,” he pants, “g-god you’re somethin’ else, should’ve…should’ve picked you. it should’ve been you—god, i love you,” he babbles into your skin, too overwhelmed by the pleasure burning through his spine as he fucks you both through your highs to even realize the words he’s admitted or the way you stiffen in his arms. 

he pulls out and stares at the mess between your legs for a moment, watching as his cum drips down your legs in thick streams. a small bit of pride bubbles up in his chest at the sight before he slumps his body over yours, head digging back into your neck and his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin. 

“we can’t keep doing this,” you mumble, but your hand still finds its way to his hair, stroking through the strands gently. it feels right, like this is how it was always supposed to be—like this is how it should be. 

your words make his arms tighten around you, and gojo presses more weight against your body—like the more he presses into you, the longer he can spend in your arms. 

“sure we can,” he says stubbornly, “i promised i won’t tell,” he insists, voice lilting into what you think is borderline desperate—desperate to keep you here, where you’re his, where it doesn’t matter if he found you first or if he found you last. 

he found you, and that’s all he needs. 

“but—”

“i won’t tell if you don’t,” he pleads, “you’re still mine, baby.” 

and there’s a buzzing of your phone from the front seat, but you ignore it, letting your arms wrap tighter around his figure as you kiss the side of his head—and for a second, as bad of a friend as it might cause you to be, you think what someone doesn't know can’t possibly hurt them.

even if it makes you a backstabber.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

#teepods.writings #thirstee! #fics. #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [32] - Viscaria

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Honesty makes bonds stronger. 

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 4000

Series Masterlist

The following week was very chaotic, and that was saying something considering what this whole season had been like so far.

Daphne was back from her honeymoon and had a lot of things to share with you, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to recover from that conversation. It was one thing to know and hear that nightly activities were -as Daphne had called them- pleasurable beyond words and it was another to know despite they were pleasurable beyond words, you still hadn’t…

Consummated.

Because Benedict had told you once that he would only touch you when you fell in love with him and you were not going to get rejected again.

The other thing was that Anthony had tempted fate that night apparently, because now everyone was talking about Colin and Marina. As Lady Whistledown had written on her society paper, Marina was pregnant from another man and she had been since she had got to London. Once the news had broken out, her courtship with Colin was brought to an end immediately and she was sent away from London by the Featheringtons to the countryside and as far as you had heard from Eloise, she was to marry the brother of the baby’s father, since the father was dead.

You shuddered to think what that poor girl was going through.

Colin was quite heartbroken but as Benedict had told you, he was slowly getting better. He and Marina had had the chance to talk before she had left for the countryside, so you figured that had to have cleared out the air at least a little.

Not for the ton, of course. That scandal was to keep them busy for at least a month if you had to guess.

As if all that wasn’t chaotic enough, both Bess and your aunt had decided that they would throw balls back to back; Bess’ ball was tonight while your aunt’s was next week, and you had spent the last week rushing from her house to Bess’s to make sure everything was going smoothly.

“I have a question for you,” Lottie said as she flung herself next to you. You still had hours until you would all go to Bess’ ball, so you had decided to relax in the park a bit. Though you were supposed to focus on your book away from the crowd under a tree, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Benedict who was in a deep conversation with Margery and Henry before you frowned and turned to see Lottie better.

“Yes?”

“So you know how everyone is talking about Marina being…” she lowered her voice, “pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice.”

“But how?”

“Sorry?”

“I thought one was supposed to be married to become with child.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Well not—not necessarily,” you managed to say and she took a deep breath.

“I asked mama.”

“Oh dear God.”

“And she says it is an act full of love and desire that should only happen once you’re married.”

“Uh huh,” you said, looking around in an attempt to distract yourself. “Oh look at that, a butterfly—”

“What act?” she cut you off and you let out a whine.

“Lottie.”

“What happens when you’re married?”

“You know what, that’s a really good question,” you pointed out. “And the better question is; why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you’re married,” she answered. “Not to mention, even before you got married you and Benny have been…”

“Debauched?”

“Full of desire,” she whispered and you felt your cheeks burn. “Even before your wedding, you two—”

You cut her off, careful to keep it quiet. “We didn’t do anything before the wedding!”

Nor after, now that you thought about it.

She lowered her voice. “But you kissed.”

“Nothing more!” you whispered back in a haste. “And you’re telling me you and Anthony did not?”

She repressed a proud grin, trying to keep a straight face.

“Perhaps.”

“There you go!”

“But that’s not our subject right now,” she said. “I forgave you after lying to me for months and you will keep it from me?”

“Lottie…”

“My two best friends and the love of my life lied to me, and now you keep another thing from me.”

“You’re devious,” you pointed at her, causing her to smile at you sweetly. “You really are.”

“I’m just hungry for knowledge.”

“You and I seem to have that in common,” you murmured. “Lottie, it’s just…it’s a pleasurable act.”

“That causes one to be pregnant?”

“Not always,” you said. “Marina’s was just bad luck I’d say. It’s only on specific times if you do that act that you become pregnant, it’s a mystery. I heard people say there are ways to prevent it as well, she must have not known.”

“And?”

“And,” you cleared your throat. “When you’re in love, and you desire that person and they desire you back…It’s—well, it’s divine.”

Or so I heard.

She thought for a moment.

“And you knew all this when you married Benny?”

“I didn’t grow up in the ton,” you said. “People talk about it more back in the countryside.”

“And Benny knew as well?”

“…Mm hm,” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing but she still saw the look of amusement on your face.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s very well practiced, and that’s the only thing I’ll say about it.”

“You know,” she mused. “There was a lady and one of Benny’s friends during my debut two years ago who were caught in an inappropriate situation at night in her bedchambers, and at their wedding breakfast I asked Benny what that situation was and he only laughed and told me I’d learn after I got married.”

“Wise words from the ton’s horizontal refreshment,” you muttered and she tilted her head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s pleasurable then?” she insisted. “If it is with the one you love?”

“Not to quote Benedict, but you’ll find out soon enough,” you said with a small grin. “Anthony and you will be married before the season is over, you know it as well as I do.”

A bright smile curled her lips, then she took a deep breath.

“I still haven’t forgiven him.”

“How much longer are you planning on making him suffer?”

She let out a giggle. “I would never make him suffer,” she said. “My heart is his completely.”

Your grin slowly faded when your gaze drifted to Benedict chuckling at something Margery had said, then joked back, making Margery laugh. Henry had to have walked away so it was just the two of them, and you felt the bitter taste of jealousy burn your throat before you looked at Lottie.

“So um—are you going to forgive him then?”

“I’m hoping to talk to him tonight at the ball,” she said. “He is coming as well, no?”

“Oh all of them will,” you said. “Even Colin, apparently. Benedict is dragging him there.”

Lottie nodded slowly, then stood up.

“I’d better see if my siblings are up to something, excuse me,” she said and walked away from you. Benedict saw her out of the corner of his eye, then said something to Margery before rushing after Lottie, no doubt to try to talk to her considering she hadn’t forgiven him yet either. Margery looked around, then waved at you and approached you.

“Well hello there,” she said and you offered her a smile.

“Hello.”

“Riveting read?”

“Not quite, but it’s a good excuse to keep myself busy,” you said and she shot you a smile.

“Understandable,” she said. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you said and scooted over so that she could sit down.

“We missed you at the party last week,” she said. “Why didn’t you come with Benedict?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was quite busy,” you said. “At the ball. But he says it was very much fun.”

“Oh it was!” she said, pressing a hand over her chest. “You really should’ve been there Y/N. Jane throws wonderful parties, you simply must come to the next one, I insist.”

“I will,” you said. “And are you coming to the ball tonight?”

“Absolutely,” she said and let out a laugh. “Benedict was just joking about how he has never seen me dance and he has this theory I’m terrible at it. He says he will see at tonight’s ball.”

You could feel your stomach doing a flip. It didn’t really mean anything, nor was it something that was ought to make you feel this jealous but—

Alright, this was ridiculous.

They were friends after all, so of course they were to joke around, there was nothing for you to feel bad about. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“Does he?”

“My mother used to give me these endless lessons until my dancing was perfect,” she made a face. “I hated it, but I do admit it comes handy at the balls.”

“Things we do for the ton,” you said as your eyes fell on Benedict who was making his way to you and Margery stood up.

“I should leave you two be.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—”

“No no, it’s no issue,” she said. “I should find Lucy anyway. See you tonight Y/N.”

“See you,” you said as she walked away, and you watched Benedict come closer to you.

“The ton’s horizontal refreshment?” he asked and you repressed a laugh at the look of complete puzzlement on his face.

“You talked to Lottie?”

“Talked at her before she—did you seriously call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment?”

You shrugged your shoulders, adapting a look of complete innocence.

“I could’ve called you the town harlot,” you pointed out. “But I’m nicer than that.”

A laugh escaped from his lips and he motioned at your side. “May I?”

“Of course,” you said and he sat down beside you, making your heart skip a beat.

“So what brought that on, exactly?”

“She was curious about what happens when one gets married,” you said. “You know, with the Marina scandal and everything.”

“Ah,” he said and paused for a moment. “And what did you say?”

“Well I certainly didn’t say she would learn after getting married, which is more information that you gave her,” you pointed out. “Hypocrite.”

“It was not my place to inform her on that,” he defended himself and turned to look at you. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her it’s unpleasant.”

“Wh- of course I did not!” you said in a haste. “Everything aside, I don’t want to listen to Anthony whining about it.”

Benedict made a face. “Let’s just stop talking about that because I do not want that picture in my mind.”

You hummed. “How is Colin?”

“He’s heartbroken but he will pull himself together,” he said. “I’m not sure if Anthony will though. Third scandal involving our family in one season.”

You shrugged. “So far.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I honestly think that he might have a heart attack if another scandal happens, and I do not want to be a Viscount.”

You grinned at him before you saw Margery and Lucy walking by the park out of the corner of your eye, and lowered your glances to your book, smoothing out the corner of the page. Benedict frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you asked, lifting your head. “Oh yeah, sure. Just thinking about tonight’s ball, Bess put so much effort into it so I hope it goes well.”  

“I’m sure it will.”

“And uh—Margery is coming as well?”

“They all are,” Benedict said. “Should be fun.”

You tried to smile, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “Should be fun.”

                                      *

In all honesty, it really was a fun ball. Bess was a wonderful host, albeit a busy one because you hadn’t had any chance to talk to her or Josie or Andrew for that matter. You had hoped to talk to Lottie but you barely had the chance to see her before she had excused herself from the ball after one dance, saying she was still tired from the park. Anthony had left around five minutes after Lottie had, but they were the only ones because every other guest seemed to be having so much fun.

Felix had somehow convinced you into being a part of the next dance which required you to switch partners every once in a while, and you were now paired with him while Lucy danced with Henry and Benedict danced with Margery. You let out a laugh and let him turn you as the dance required.

“An artist and a good dancer,” you said, taking a step forward with him. “Full of surprises, are you not?”

“I hope my art skills are better than my dancing skills,” he said with a smile and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not complaining,” you said. “Any new paintings you have been working on?”

“Just drawings,” he said. “And you? Have you discovered a new flower yet?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Mm hm, I’ll name it Felix,” you said. “And when will I see the drawings? Or does that privilege only belong to my brother-in-law?”

He suppressed a smile and stole a look at the dancing couples, and you winked at him.

“You two are such close friends after all,” you said airily as he held out his arm and you put your hand on it. Felix grinned.

“We talk a lot about art,” he played along. “He has many interesting ideas. It’s quite inspiring.”

“I’m sure it is,” you said, still smirking and clapped your hands together along with other couples, then switched partners and Henry smiled at you.

“Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Sir Granville,” you greeted Henry and put your hand on his shoulder. “Having fun?”

“Quite so, you must give my gratitude to Lady Hadfield,” he said. “A wonderfully planned ball.”

“There’s nothing Bess can’t do wonderfully, except for keeping her plants alive,” you commented and let him twirl you before you took a step.

“Our lovesick couple is back in the honeymoon phase then?” he asked and you shot him a lighthearted glare.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?”

“Not at all,” you said with a smirk, stealing a look at Lucy who was now dancing with Benedict, “We were simply enjoying the fresh air.”

Henry chuckled, then you both clapped your hands and switched partners, Benedict grabbing you by the hand to twirl you, making you giggle.

“Hello Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hello to you too Mrs. Bridgerton,” he grinned at you, “How are you on this fine evening?”

“Enjoying the ball, and yourself?”

“Enjoying the sight of the most beautiful lady at the ball as we speak,” he said and you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

“Ever the romantic,” you teased him. “I should write you a sonnet or something, to pay back the favor. Can’t have you covering that whole front.”

He let out a laugh and you both circled each other as the dance required.

“A sonnet,” he said. “That sounds lovely. Will you carve it on a stone with a knife or something?”

“That does sound romantic now that you mention it,” you said. “And a stone can be a weapon as well, so you would have a sonnet you can actually use if need be.”

“Ever the practical,” he teased you back and you both clapped hands along with other couples, the music coming to a stop. Laughter and chattering filled the dance floor as you dropped a curtsy and Benedict bowed.

“Come on, let’s grab drinks,” he said and offered you his arm, and you put your hand over it so that you both could walk away from the dance floor. Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray, then gave one to you.

“Is Lottie alright, do you think?” you asked and he nodded.

“She said she was, before reminding me she still wasn’t talking to me.”

You repressed a laugh and stole a look at Colin who was talking to Penelope by the corner.

“And Colin?”

“Pen will make him snap out of it,” he said. “Being around her always makes him feel better. Look at him, smiling already.”

You tilted your head, turning to glance at them but before you could comment on it, someone touched your back, making you look behind you.

“Andrew,” you said, turning around to see him better. “This is a good surprise after what, two weeks?”

“I know,” he said, giving you an apologetic smile. “I have been busy. Hello Benedict.”

“Hello Andrew.”

“Busy with a certain artist?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you. “Where is he anyway?”

“He was just on the dance floor,” you said and Andrew looked through the crowd, then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll be back but before I forget,” he said. “Y/N, Josie says you’ve been worried about the letter from your father and I get that but trust me, even if they do come here there’s no—” he stopped talking as your eyes widened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Benedict slowly turned to look at you before turning to Andrew with a frown and Andrew glanced between you, then hissed in a breath.

“And you haven’t had the chance to tell him,” he muttered. “Damn it. Sorry, I thought…”

“Your parents are coming here?” Benedict asked you and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.

“Andrew, do you mind?”

“Yeah I’ll just—” he motioned at the other side of the ballroom. “Go and mess up another couple’s relationship on my way there so that you won’t feel alone. Sure.”

“Great, you do that,” you said and he squeezed at your arm in an assuring manner before walking away from you. You took a deep breath, your heart beating in your throat before you nodded at Benedict.

“Come with me?” you asked and made your way through the crowd with Benedict following you. You both left the ballroom and you climbed the stairs, then turned left and opened the first door which turned out to be one of the guest rooms. Benedict stepped inside after you, then closed the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets after a pause, clearing his throat.

“So?” he said, his voice completely calm. “What is happening?”

You heaved a sigh and ran a hand over your face.

“My uh…my father sent a letter,” you managed to say and Benedict frowned.

“To you?”

“No, to my uncle,” you motioned outside vaguely. “He talks about wanting to host Teddy for the rest of the season, which will not happen by the way, over my dead body,” you added in a haste. “It’s just a trick to ask for more money from my uncle, at least that’s what he says.”

Benedict nodded. “And they’re coming here?”

“It was implied on the letter,” you murmured, biting inside your cheek. “But my uncle thinks they won’t.”

“And you?”

You could feel your whole body stiffening and it was so familiar to you that it made you scoff, then you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you said curtly. “Father didn’t send another letter.”

“But why wouldn’t you tell me earlier? When did—” he stopped talking as a look of realization dawned on his face, making you shift your weight.

“That’s what you were going to tell me,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You pressed your lips together, fixing your gaze on the wall as you crossed your arms.

“That’s why you…” Benedict let out a breath, nodding his head. “Now it makes sense. You wanted to tell me, and I was at a party.”

That familiar feeling of defenselessness sent a shiver down your spine, making you frown before you cleared your throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said almost stoically. “It’s fine.”  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

“No need to be,” you cut him off, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sinking in your stomach as you rubbed at your wrist, his eyes following your movements. “We don’t even need to talk about this really.”

“I think we do.”

“We do not.” You shook your head, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “I’m fine.”

“If they come here—”

“I can handle it,” you interrupted him again and rolled your shoulders back. “It’s fine. I don’t need—I can handle it, even if they do come here. I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m fine.”

That soft light appeared in his eyes and he stepped closer to you to pull you into his arms, heaving a sigh.

“Oh my stubborn girl…” he murmured into your hair, his hand cradling the back of your head as you rested your forehead on his chest. His other arm snaked around your waist and you felt the stiffness of your muscles relax slowly, almost melting into his touch. The music coming from downstairs slowly washed away from your ears as your hearing became muffled and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes, making your whole body tense up again. You took a shaky breath and pulled away from him even if you wanted nothing more than just stay there in his embrace forever, then you ran a hand over your face.

“Are you alright?” his voice was gentle and you nodded.

“Yeah I just don’t—I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?”

“That whole crying nonsense,” you rasped out, blinking back the tears as you went to sit down on the bed. A silence fell upon the room before he approached you, and crouched down to look at you while you played with the ring around your finger, your gaze growing distant as you found yourself lost in thought until you heard his voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why not tell me afterwards?”

You shrugged your shoulders, nibbling on your lip.

“We weren’t on best terms,” you muttered. “I could not.”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he entwined his fingers with yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as if trying to assure you.

“No matter what happens between us,” he insisted. “No matter what, I will always protect you. Nothing could change that.”

It felt as if someone was squeezing at your heart inside your chest but you managed to find your voice.

“Benedict, if they do come here…” you trailed off and he shook his head.

“Even if they do, nothing will happen,” he said, his voice determined. “I promised you, remember? No one will touch a hair on your head, ever.”

You dragged your gaze to his as you swallowed thickly, then nodded. For a moment, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, the desire rushing through you. If you leaned in just a little to brush your lips against his, you could—

Your head whipped around as the sound of what was probably a vase falling down to floor and smashing reached inside and you heard Andrew’s laugh and Felix shushing him before someone slammed a door down the hallway. That was enough to snap you out of the haze you were in and you pulled back, blinking a couple of times to focus.

“Can we, um…” you muttered and Benedict seemed to understand what you were going to ask.

“Back home or back to the ball?”

“It’d be rude to Bess if we went home, we must stay,” you said as he stood up but you didn’t let go of his hand and stood up as well. You gave him a small smile, swinging your hands absentmindedly and Benedict raised your hand to press a chaste kiss on it, then shot you that lopsided grin of his.

“Would you spare me another dance, Mrs. Bridgerton?”  

The simple joke made you feel as if that heaviness in your chest was lifted off, letting you breathe again. A giggle escaped from your lips and before you fixed a serious expression on your face, pretending to consider it for a second.

“I suppose I can,” you mused in an airy manner and tugged at his hand to lead him to the door. “You are quite easy on the eye after all.”

Chapter 33

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