#all of my little side projects like that have fallen away for so long. I really want his advneture to reach a tiny conclusion though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luciathcv · 2 months

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princess, is your hand okay?

summary: your boyfriend doesn't like you doing school work so late at night || warnings: none || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 880

I sat at my desk, typing and writing away. I was currently working on a long project that I had due the next evening. I knew I could just do it tomorrow in the morning when I actually had some rest but I didn’t want to have to worry about it tomorrow so I opted for staying up late to work on it today. I mean, I technically had a lot of time to work on this but, what can I say, procrastination gets the best of me.

It was already nearly two in the morning and my lack of sleep was starting to get to me. My eyes were starting to hurt but not only my eyes, but my hand as well from how much writing I was doing.

I hissed as I dropped the pen onto the desk, grabbing my wrist with my other hand before I let go and started waving my hand around, trying to move my wrist and warm up the muscle.

Sunghoon had been laying on the bed the whole time but honestly I thought he had fallen asleep a while ago since I was so focused on my schoolwork. Little did I know, he had been awake this whole time, honestly fighting sleep as well.

When he saw me shake my wrist in pain for the nth time, he came over. He stood behind me as he gently grabbed my wrist, startling me. He smiled down at me as I looked up at him, who still held my wrist in his hand.

“Princess, is your hand okay?” He asked in a soft but definitely sleepy tone.

“It hurts.” I admit.

“That’s your sign that it’s time for bed. Come on, baby.” Sunghoon tells me, going to help me up but I stop him.

��No, I can’t. I need to get this done.” I told him.

He sighs, “Princess, how many times have I told you that you don’t have to do this. I’ll work for us. I’ll do it with no problem whatsoever. Seriously.”

I look down for a moment, “Hoon, I know… and I appreciate it but, I just want to have my degree just in case I change my mind and I want to work in the future.”

He gives me a small nod of acknowledgment, “I know, I know.” Sunghoon says as he stands beside me now. “How much more do you have?” He asks.

“One more section, then I’m done.” I told him.

“Fine. Finish it up, baby.” He says as he steps away from me and sits at the end of the bed.

Fifteen-ish minutes later and I’m finally finished. I click the “submit” button and close my laptop once I see that it went through. I get up and walk over to Sunghoon and he stands up.

He walks to my side of the bed with me, his hand on the small of my back as I get under the covers. He then gets on top of me and goes over me to get to his side of the bed. I giggle at his actions which makes him smile as he gets under the covers as well.

Once he’s comfortable under the covers, I get closer and rest my head against his shoulder. I feel his arm make it's way under and around me, pulling me closer as it rests on my hip.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, you know. You could’ve slept.” I softly tell him.

“I know.” He responds. “But I couldn’t have my princess staying up all by herself.” He then tells me as he gives me a cocky smile. “I’m just the best boyfriend ever, what can I say.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” I say with a smile as I nuzzle against him. “But that’s true.” I then shyly add.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond, he just smiles at my words. He knew that if he were to say anything in response to your words, you’d get all flustered and he couldn’t have that when you needed to sleep.

“You know that I was serious when I told you that you don’t have to do any of this, the college stuff, I mean. I’ll work for both of us. I have no problem with that. I know that college is hard.” Sunghoon tells me.

He had talked to me about this a few times before. I liked the idea of it but at the same time, although I wasn’t planning on working, I felt that I should get my bachelors just so that I always had it if I wanted to work in the future.

“I know. I want that. But I also feel like I should do this, at least.” I tell him and he understood where I was coming from as well.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” He tells me.

“Thank you.” I say, blushing a little. He was one of the only people in my life who told me that and I appreciated it. I really did.

“Now go to sleep, I’m tired, I know you’re tired, and it’s late.” Sunghoon says. I giggle as I nod, agreeing as I close my eyes. I feel him kiss my forehead before he shut his eyes as well, the both of us drifting to sleep almost instantly.

-- link to my masterlist

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #sim jaeyun #lee heeseung #nishimura riki #park jongseong #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagine #sunghoon imagine #fluff #romance #kpop #established relationship #overworked #luciathcv

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thebetawolfgirl · 5 months

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Could you do one where the reader and Timmy are co stars and the leading roles in WONKA and they’re doing press tour and stuff and the whole internet ships them but he’s dating Kylie. Kylie and y/n had something like big beef years ago , so when she finds out that Kylie is attending their wonka premiere, she decides to stop press tour completely , I just like some drama idk and I love your writinggg 🤍🤍

A/N: This isn’t my best work but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! Thank you so much for all your support!!!

Dream Come True

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: None. Just pure fluff and a little bit of angst.

Dream come True

Y/n met Timmy when they were cast as the leading roles in the new movie ‘Wonka’ telling the origin story of the famous Chocolatier Willy Wonka and they hit it off right away. They spent nearly every day together between takes talking about movies, literature and food, they would debate art and history, Timmy was intelligent and had a certain view of the world she had never seen in anyone else her age. He was sensitive and had passion, he was also very giving with his fans, he would stand and talk to them and listen to them. It was during Covid so he couldn’t get too close to anyone on the outside, which meant the only people they both saw was the rest of the cast and each other.

She stayed with him when he came back to work after his grandmother passed away as he lay in her arms breaking his heart. They had become close.

When Covid ended and he was able to do press finally for Dune, she sent him a quick message to wish him good luck and he replied with a heart emoji.

Now it was 2023 and they were finally able to do a bit of press for Wonka together, they were excited to talk about this project finally, everyone adored them together and the internet was shipping them together already, but of course he had already been spotted out with Kylie Jenner. Much to y/n’s disapproval, she didn’t like the girl but she had no right to tell Timmy who he should be dating. It wasn’t her business.

Timmy noticed how y/n would become distant with him whenever they were together and Kylie showed up, he didn’t like it. He hated not having y/n around him, he knew she and Kylie had a history long ago but he didn’t think she would completely distance herself from him. After his beloved grandmother passed away she was like his rock keeping him anchored as he drowned in his grief, now that Kylie was constantly around him, she wasn’t. And it was making him antsy, so much so in fact when she bailed out of one of their many press interviews for Wonka everyone around him could tell he was agitated because y/n wasn’t by his side. She claimed she had fallen unwell and lost her voice from all the talking and was taking a break.

When she came back he was fine again and back to his usual chatty goofy self.

When it came closer for the world premiere for Wonka in LA Timmy’s management came to him and said Kylie would be joining him on the red carpet for at least two of the premiers and he sighed burying his face in his hands.

He heard through the wall in the next suite y/n going crazy after hearing the news.

‘Is she that fucking desperate for attention that she needs to go to a premier for a children’s movie?! Talk about fucking creep factor! Will she be in the Chanel commercial too, or is this the only thing of Timothée’s she wants to destroy with her existence?’

She was so upset and furious. She sent Kylie a text telling if this movie flopped because of her, she would make her life a living Hell then turned off her phone. She told her publicist to send for her car, she was done with the whole tour and she was going home.

She saw Timmy’s agent in the hallway looking at her with regretful eyes and stormed past his shoulder. ‘I hope this little act was worth the money, she’s going to destroy his career he’s worked so hard for.’ She walked to the elevator and left without saying goodbye to any of the cast or to Timmy.

Timmy had been doing publicity work when he heard about y/n leaving and walking away from the rest of the tour and was devastated.

But when the night of the premiere arrived and y/n was nowhere to be seen he asked around thinking maybe she was just running late, but when his publicist told him with a nervous air that y/n had pulled out of coming to the premier as well as the tours Timmy went pale feeling himself falling back.

He felt Hugh and Olivia grab his arms lowering him into the chair as someone went to get him a glass of water, he buried his face between his legs as he felt his chest tighten.

He needed y/n here, he needed to see her face when the noise got to much for him she was the only one who could calm his nerves with her soothing words. She wasn’t happy about Kylie he knew that, she told him countless times that he could do so much better than her, he deserves so much better than her.

It was always her though, Timmy realised as he drank his water.

The premier came and went he did the whole arm around Kylie looking in love charade, when really he couldn’t stand her. The longer he looked at her the more his stomach turned. How had he not seen how fake this woman was, how vapid! No wonder he couldn’t think straight after being with her, it wasn’t lust his brain cells were dying, gasping out for some sort of stimulation.

No wonder after every conversation with Kylie he would call y/n to just to contradict her about something she said just to rile her up and have a healthy debate with her.

After the premier he ditched Kylie and locked himself in his hotel room and tried to call y/n but the phone just rang out, so he tried to message her and it said her phone was now switched off. He tried to Skype her on his laptop but that was disconnected. He slammed his laptop down getting annoyed, if she thought she could ignore him and he would just leave her alone she was wrong. He changed into his sweats and his hoodie with his baseball cap and grabbed his car keys before sneaking out of the hotel.

He knew where she lived, he remembered her telling him how she had inherited her grandfather’s ranch where she grew up as a little girl. It was out in the California countryside, a place surrounded by beautiful trees and mountains. It was still light for some reason, LA he guessed rolling his eyes. He drove along the road and he knew he was getting close when the desert become more leafy and he was suddenly surrounded by autumn trees, he smiled and came to farmlands and turned into a beautiful driveway dusted with fallen leaves and fenced off grasslands for the horses to graze on, he looked out his window and saw the stunning backdrop of mountains and and greenery.

He parked outside the house and got out of his car. His fancy wheels looked stupid in these surroundings. He looked around in amazement taking everting in, from the fresh air around him to the house and the huge mountains in the background and the horses grazing in the fields beyond. He couldn’t believe he was still in California. Maybe, Montana or somewhere in Arizona.

He understood why y/n loved this place so much, what happy memories she must have made here with her grandparents, he turned as he heard the door open and out she stepped looking at him. Dear God she was stunning, he had saw her all glammed up and he saw her all messy and covered in chocolate and mud and he had even saw her in her pyjamas when he showed up at her hotel room late one night, but he had never saw her like this.

She was wearing a pair of old torn jeans, covered in some sort of white stuff like powder, she must have been baking, and an off the shoulder knit sweater and her light brown hair was in a messy side braid. Her bangs were whipping around her face, as she walked up to him shoving her hands in her pockets.

‘Timmy? What are you doing here? I thought you would be at the after party?’

‘I’m sorry, I am so so sorry. I was a total dick to you!’ He blurted out before he could stop himself and she blinked at him.

He looked around, spreading his arms wide ‘This just proves my theory!’

She smiles stepping closer to him ‘What theory is that?’

‘That you’re definitely an angel, because this,’ he gestures around him. ‘This is Heaven!’

She smiles watching him look around him.

‘I could see myself spending my out my life here,’ he looked her in the eyes ‘With you. I could see me spending my life here with you.’

She takes a deep breath looking at him. ‘Is that what you came all the way out here to tell me?’

‘No, actually I drove out here to confront you about ignoring me tonight and argue with you. Tell you, Plato was an idiot and the Yankees suck ass!’

She glared before raising her eyebrow looking at him ‘And now?’

He sighed shoving his hands in his pockets ‘Well I can’t very well yell at you now.’

‘The Yankees are a great team by the way.’

He scoffed rolling his eyes and she raised her eyebrows. ‘Because the Knicks did so great this season?’

‘Hey! They did their best okay!’

‘My ass they did their best!’ She turned and walked back towards the house and he followed her immediately almost automatically.

He closed the door behind him and stepped inside the cozy house and looked around, there were family photos of different generations scattered along the wall, he saw a picture of y/n in her graduation robes holding her diploma.

‘What did you study?’

‘Before becoming an actor I wanted to work with animals. So I studied veterinary science.’

‘Wow.’ He muttered under his breath as he looked at all of the family photos and saw a picture of a young girl on a horse holding a large trophy.

‘Hey who’s the little girl on the horse with the trophy?’ He called to her in the kitchen.

‘Oh that’s me. I came in first place in the equestrian event. My papa was so proud that he was actually crying.’ She came back with two bottles of his favourite beer and handed him one, smiling at the photos. He watched her closely as he sipped his beer ‘What was your grandfather like?’

She looked at him and smiled ‘You’re the first person to ever ask me what he was like.’

He smiled and waited. ‘He was always smiling, always singing. He liked putting the radio and dancing with grandma around the kitchen. He taught me how to dance too.’ She looked up at Timmy smiling before frowning ‘When grandma died he was never the same again, I think a little bit of him died when she did. The thing that killed him most, I think was that none of the family came to the funeral. I skipped school and took a bus using my lunch money to go. All the other families from the neighbouring ranches came but her own children didn’t come. I moved in here after graduation, I told my parents to stay away, invited my grandpa instead. Haven’t spoken to them since his funeral eight years ago.’

She sighed as Timmy listened intently without interrupting. He knew she had been keeping this bottled up for years. All of the love and pride she felt for her grandparents, the hurt and the shame of her family not paying their respects and her total determination with her loyalty towards her grandparents. No wonder the old man left his entire life to his granddaughter. She was the only who cared enough to stay.

‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He wrapped his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

‘Your parents sound like assholes. If you don’t mind me saying.’

She shook her head closing her eyes and smirked ‘Not at all. You’re right on the dot. They are assholes. When I made it to the big time they contacted me, wanting to ‘make amends’ I told them to go fuck themselves. After how they treated my grandparents I’m not interested.’

She turned to him and buried her head in his chest wrapping her arms around his waist ‘You’re actually the first person I’ve ever told that story.’

He was shocked as he wrapped his arms around her back he had heard she wasn’t the most trusting person. In fact he heard rumour about how hard she was to work with, she wasn’t good at taking orders and she barely spoke to anyone on set. But Timmy had seen her with fans, she would spend ages with the kids and the elderly, she always made sure was allowed the same lunch hour the actors had. She remembered the names of crew members asking one how their daughter enjoyed her first day of school, she even asked one of his grandmother was getting better.

He took her over to the couch and sat down with her holding her close as she lay against his chest.

He would break it off with Kylie, he didn’t care if he had to pay a big fine for terminating the contract, it would be worth it if he could be with y/n.

The fact that he could already hear the echo of their children running around the house and eventually their grandchildren, was huge. He never envisioned his future with anyone before. But with y/n, he saw himself spending the rest of his life on this ranch with this kind, beautiful woman and one day their children.

Y/n looked up seeing Timmy lost in thought and reached up to kiss his jaw, ‘penny for your thoughts?’

He looked down at her and blinked at feeling her lips on his skin ‘I don’t want to freak you out or scare you.’

She reached up and kissed his jawline again ‘You won’t, please tell me.’

‘I was thinking about our future. A-and I was picturing our children and our grandchildren running all about this house.’

He blushed and looked down and she sat on his lap lifting his face to make him look at her. ‘Are we married or do we live like hippies?’ She smiled and pecked his lips before he deepened the kiss leaning forward. ‘No, we’re definitely married until we’re old and grey, and calling the cops on each other because we can’t remember who the other one is.’ She laughed against his lips at his strange narrative of their future, she pulled away before standing and taking his hand to guide him upstairs to her bedroom.

They didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but they were ready for whatever would be thrown their way. They met on a movie based on following your dreams, and they ended up being each other’s dream come true!

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamess

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothée chalamet #angst with a happy ending #timothee chalamet fluff

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allthelovehes · 26 days

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Enemies at Nine, Lovers by Five*

Summary: Harry and Y/N are colleagues who absolutely hate each other. Who know all they needed was a good fuck?

Pairing: Coworker!Harry x reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, public sex, unprotected sex, office sex.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: This is my first ever enemies to lovers fic and I hope I did it right. Also, let me just tell you.. Wrap it before you tap it :')

Masterlist

In the bustling world of corporate offices, Harry and Y/N are two colleagues who can't stand each other. Their desks are situated across from each other, and every interaction between them seems like a battleground. Harry, with his sharp wit and assertive demeanour, clashed with Y/N's independent and equally stubborn nature. Their colleagues often find them caught in the crossfire of their constant bickering.

As Harry is leaving for his lunch break, he accidentally bumps into Y/N and drops a few items from his bag. While helping him pick up the fallen belongings, a few papers fly out from one of the folders. Y/N, in an attempt to quickly gather the loose documents, notices something. They are the divorce papers from Harry's wife, and she immediately knows what that means. She quickly returns the folders to him, apologises, and goes her way.

Harry, on the other hand, is taken aback. Not by the fact that Y/N has seen the divorce papers, but by how she had not reacted to it. He expected her to mock him or throw a witty remark, but instead, she acted as if nothing had happened. Harry is perplexed by her actions.

As time passes, Y/N is still the same to Harry. She treats him the same way as before. They argue, tease each other, and bicker just like they used to. Harry can't comprehend her behaviour. Why is she not talking about the divorce papers? He knows Y/N has a big mouth and likes to share juicy office gossip, so why isn't she saying anything about his divorce?

One day, the office is buzzing with anticipation as the team prepares for an important conference. The air is tense as presentations are being rehearsed, and the conference room is filled with an energy of nervous excitement. As fate would have it, Harry and Y/N are assigned to work on the crucial project together, ensuring that their paths cross more frequently than ever.

They are both frustrated by their predicament. Neither of them wants to work with the other. As they are walking back to their desks after a meeting, Y/N stops in her tracks. Harry turns to look at her.

“Why aren't you talking about my divorce?” Harry asks bluntly. Y/N is taken aback.

“It's none of my business, Harry. It's between you and your wife.” She replies.

“But you know everyone here, and I've heard that you enjoy sharing office gossip. It's not like you to not talk about something like this.” Harry retorts. Y/N rolls her eyes.

“I'm not the kind of person you think I am, Harry. I don't spread rumours. And even if I did, it wouldn't be about you.” She says and continues walking towards her desk.

Harry watches as she walks away. Her words echo in his mind. Could she really not be the person he thought she was? Could she be hiding a side of her that he had never seen before? He is curious, intrigued, and even a little impressed.

As the days go by, Harry and Y/N continue working on their project. They argue, debate, and bicker just as much as they did before. Working overtime and spending long hours at the office, they have no choice but to tolerate each other. Tonight is no different, as they finalised their presentation together.

The room is silent, the only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioning unit. Harry and Y/N are seated in the conference room, the space between them filled with the tension of unsaid words and unresolved conflicts. They had spent the entire night working on the presentation and had not spoken a word to each other. The silence was deafening.

“Jesus Christ, can you not?” Harry breaks the silence.

“What are you talking about?” She asks, surprised by his sudden outburst.

“I'm talking about the tapping of your pen. You've been doing it for the past 20 minutes.” Harry says, his voice dripping with frustration.

“It helps me concentrate.” Y/N says.

“Well, it's annoying as fuck. Just stop.” Harry snaps. Y/N is stunned. She had never seen him so upset before. She quickly puts down her pen and leans back in her chair.

“You're the most difficult person to work with, you know that?” She mutters under her breath.

“Yeah? Well, you're not a picnic either.” Harry quips. Y/N lets out an exasperated sigh and closes her laptop.

“We're not going to get anywhere tonight. We're both tired and frustrated. Let's just call it a night.” She says.

“Fine.” Harry grumbles before he looks at her, a wave of lust washes over him. “I just think you need to be fucked real good for once in your life.”

Y/N is taken aback by his forwardness.

“Excuse me?” She asks, her tone laced with shock and irritation.

“You heard me. I said you need to be fucked. Hard. It'll take that stick out of your ass.” He replies.

“You're delusional. No wonder your wife left you.” Y/N snaps. Harry's expression darkens.

“You know nothing about my marriage, so keep your fucking mouth shut.” He growls. Y/N stands up and glares at him.

“You don't know shit about me either, yet you have no problem judging me. Fuck you, Harry. I'm done with this conversation.” She spits before gathering her things and leaving the room.

Harry watches as she walks to the door, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Why does he feel so drawn to her, even though she drives him insane? He has always been attracted to her, but tonight is the first time he has actually expressed his feelings. It was a bold move, but the thrill of the moment was enough to overcome his sense of hesitation. He's never had an office affair before, but Y/N makes him want to break all the rules. He strides over to where she's standing, grabs her by the arm, and pulls her close to him.

“You're wrong. I do know you, Y/N. And I know you want me.” He says, his voice low and husky.

“Let go of me, Harry.” She whispers, her voice trembling slightly.

“Why? Because you're afraid of what might happen? You're a strong woman, Y/N. Show me what you've got.” He murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. Y/N feels a rush of adrenaline and arousal course through her body. She's never wanted anyone more than she wants him at this moment. Her lips part as she draws in a shaky breath.

“I don't think this is a good idea.” She says, her resolve weakening.

“Oh, but it is.” Harry whispers before he crashes his lips against hers.

The kiss is intense and passionate, fueled by their pent-up sexual frustration. They tangle their fingers in each other's hair and moan into each other's mouths. Y/N gasps as she feels Harry's hands grip her waist, pulling her even closer to him. She can feel his arousal pressing against her, and it sends a jolt of desire through her body.

“Harry, we can't. Someone could walk in.” She says, trying to catch her breath.

“There's no one at the office at this ungodly hour.” He says, a smirk playing on his lips.

He lifts her onto the conference table and begins to unbutton her shirt. He trails kisses down her neck and chest, and she arches her back. His lips find hers again as he caresses her breasts. He undoes her bra and takes one nipple in his mouth, while his fingers tease the other. She can't hold back her moans any longer, and she runs her fingers through his hair, urging him on. His hands wander down to her pants, and he begins to unbutton them. He slides his hand inside, and she bites her lip as he brushes his fingers against her clit.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” He groans.

He pulls her pants off and tosses them aside before he kneels before her, his face level with her dripping core. He hooks his arms around her thighs and pulls her to the edge of the table. He places her legs over his shoulders and spreads her lips apart. He looks up at her, his gaze hungry and lustful.

“Are you ready?” He asks, his voice thick with desire.

She nods, and he dives in, his tongue flicking against her swollen clit. She throws her head back and grips the edge of the table. His mouth is hot and insistent as he eats her out. She writhes against the table, her hips bucking against his face.

There is something powerful in having her naked in front of him while he's still fully clothed. He is in control, and she is his. She can feel her orgasm building as he licks and sucks at her core. She reaches down and tangles her fingers in his hair, holding him in place. He groans, the vibrations sending shivers up her spine.

“Harry, please.” She gasps. He doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around her clit before plunging into her. She cries out, her climax crashing over her in waves. Her legs shake as she rides the waves of pleasure. He looks up at her, his chin glistening with her juices.

“That was... Fuck, Harry, that was amazing.” She says, breathless. He smirks.

“I know what I’m capable of.” He says, his voice deep and husky.

“Your turn.” She says.

She slides off the table and pushes him down into a chair. She unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. He lifts his hips, allowing her to pull his pants and boxers down. She takes his hard cock in her hand and strokes him. He groans, his head falling back as she pleasures him. She sinks to her knees and takes his throbbing member into her mouth.

He hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head. She swirls her tongue around the tip before taking him deeper into her mouth. His hands fist in her hair as he thrusts his hips. She gags a little, but she doesn't let that stop her. She looks up at him, her gaze filled with lust and hunger. He can barely stand it. He has to have her.

“Fuck, Y/N. Your mouth is so fucking hot. You're gonna make me come.” He says, his voice ragged with desire. She moans, the sound sending shivers through his body. She continues to bob her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper with every stroke. His breathing becomes shallow, and his grip on her hair tightens.

“I'm close, baby. I'm so close.” He groans before she quits her actions, completely ruining his orgasm.

“You don't happen to have a condom on you, do you? Because I certainly don't.” She asks.

“Shit, no. I don't.” Harry curses, realizing his lack of preparation.

She rises to her feet and straddles him. She grinds her dripping core against his rock-hard cock.

“I just need you inside me, Harry.” She whispers, her voice heavy with lust. He groans, the sensation of her hot pussy against his bare skin nearly sending him over the edge. He holds her hips still and looks her deep into her eyes.

“We can't.”

“Why not?” She whines, desperate for him as she grinds herself on him.

“We don't have a condom, Y/N.”

“So? It's fine, I'm on birth control.” She assures him, her need for him overriding her usual cautiousness.

“We still can't.”

“Please, Harry?” She begs.

He pauses, searching for the right words. “If I have sex with you, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop.”

“Good.” She smiles.

Her hands wrap around his neck, and she pulls him in for a passionate kiss. Their tongues explore each other's mouths, and their bodies are pressed against each other. The heat is almost unbearable, and they can't get enough of each other.

Harry gets up on his feet and turns them around, pinning Y/N against the wall. He lifts her legs around his waist, and her arms wrap around his neck, their bodies perfectly aligned. He reaches between them and guides himself into her. They moan in unison as he fills her, stretching her tight walls. He pulls back and slams into her, making her gasp in surprise.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, his voice is husky and full of need.

“Yes.” She breathes. “Fuck me, Harry.” He obliges, setting a relentless pace. She writhes against him, her nails digging into his back. The pain and pleasure mix, and it's intoxicating. He buries his face in her neck and bites down on her soft flesh. She cries out, her voice echoing in the empty room.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans. She clenches around him, and he almost loses it.

“Harder.” She begs.

He slams into her, driving her back against the wall. He lifts her and moves to the conference table, laying her down and positioning himself over her. He grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“I want you to look at me when you come.” He commands. She meets his gaze, her eyes dark and full of lust. He thrusts into her, and she lets out a cry. She's so close.

“Harry, I'm going to come.” She gasps.

“Not yet.” He growls. “You'll come when I tell you to.”

He picks up the pace, his movements rough and urgent. She can barely breathe. The tension is too much. He simply stares down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of dominance and tenderness. He knows she's on the verge of breaking.

“Come for me.” He says, his voice is deep and commanding. She explodes around him, her whole body convulsing with pleasure. She screams, and the sound is music to his ears. He slams into her relentlessly, not even caring about the possibility of overstimulating her. All that matters is her. He can feel her clenching around him, and it's almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I'm gonna come.” He groans, his hips moving faster.

“Inside me.” She pleads. “I want to feel you.”

“Fucking hell, you know I can't do that.” He growls and pulls out just in time, spilling his seed on her stomach. She reaches between them and strokes him through his orgasm, coaxing every last drop from him. They're both breathing heavily, their bodies covered in sweat.

“Fuck, that was…” Harry pants, struggling to find the words.

“Yeah.” Y/N agrees. They smile at each other, and something passes between them. It's a moment of pure connection, and neither of them wants to break it. But then the reality of the situation comes crashing down on them, and the spell is broken.

Harry stands up and grabs a handful of napkins from the table. He hands them to Y/N and helps her clean up. When they're done, they dress in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Harry breaks the silence first.

“I'm sorry.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N turns to look at him, her eyes wide with confusion.

“For what?”

“For taking advantage of the situation. For crossing a line that should never have been crossed.” He explains before Y/N shakes her head.

“Don't apologize. I wanted it just as much as you did.”

“Still, I shouldn't have let it happen.” Harry sighs.

“Maybe not.” Y/N agrees. “But there's no use dwelling on it now. What's done is done.”

Harry nods, his expression conflicted. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the words die on his lips. There's nothing left to say. Y/N finishes dressing and walks towards the door. She stops and turns to look at Harry, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She says softly.

He doesn't reply. He simply watches as she walks out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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felice-jaganshi · 1 month

Text

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 2

You end up staying in hell a bit longer. Wanting to get to know the real Lucifer better, even against his own pleading! He didn't want you to see how bad his kingdom really was, but you didn't care.

You wandered the halls of his palace and stopped in front of a painting. It had three very beautiful blondes in it. One was Lucifer himself, the other you guessed was his wife, a very beautiful demon of some kind given the horns. But who was the younger girl then?

“Who is that?” You asked, and he looked sad and sighed.

“My wife and daughter. Lilith and Charlie.” You look over at him, noticing the longing in his gaze.

“You said before she's been gone for seven years? What about your daughter?” You regret your words when more pain crosses his face. But he immediately tries to hide it with the fakest, biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Oh, hah! Char char is too busy to spend time with her old man these days! Busy with an important passion project of hers! I'm so proud of her.” The forced cheer was replaced with a note of something genuine in that last sentence. So you picked up that he did love his daughter, genuinely. But there seemed to be distance between them… you kept yourself from asking, you'd made him cry enough for one day.

“Well, do you have a passion project? Something that keeps you busy?” His eyes lit up genuinely, and it was breathtaking.

“Do you like ducks?” …

“I'm.. sorry?” You weren't sure you heard right. Did he really just say, “did you say Ducks?” He blushed and looked away.

“I uh, take that as a no then.”

“No! I mean, I do! I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. I think they're cute!” You couldn't bear hurting him again, you'd say anything to get that sparkle back! He looked back at you, a glimmer of hope hidden behind embarrassment.

“Really?” You nod vigorously!

“Really!” He smiles softly and holds out a hand.

“Then come with me. I'll show you my workshop.”

You take his hand, it's warm and comforting, fitting nicely into your own. He leads the way down a few halls before stopping in front of the door and unlocking it.

“No one's been in here with me since… Well, you're the first in a long while.” Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous. This feels… intimate in a way. A side of Lucifer possibly only seen by his wife and daughter. And now you, too.

He opened the door, and you're immediately overwhelmed by the color yellow! He confidently walks in and you follow close behind. You've never seen so many rubber ducks in all your life! Or death for that matter.

“I… so many…” You pick one up that has a tophat and cane, and it does a little dance in your hands. Lucifer watches, holding his breath to see your reaction. You smile wide and laugh, “oh my god, that's so cute!” He lets out his breath in one loud go, he's more relieved than you can imagine. He then puts on a more genuine grin.

“Well! Then you're gonna love the rest of my collection, they all do crazy shit! Oh, uh, avoid that pile over there though, those one breath fire and have knives and other dangerous things.” He pointed to the far corner. You make a note to avoid those ones and the two of you spend the next hour going over all the ducks he's made…

Except by the time you're halfway through one pile, you realize it's been way longer than an hour! The sun has set and the stars are coming out.

“Oh fuck, how long have I been here?! Everyone's gonna panic! I gotta get home to my friends.” Lucifer's face drops as you say this.

“O-oh… right, you don't belong here. You have a family to get back to… don't you?” He then tries to cheer up, “well hey, thanks for making my day! It's genuinely been the best one I've had in… a- a while.” You look at this sad little duck loving angel, how could heaven ever get rid of such a cutie?!

“I'll come back.” His face lights up with shock.

“Wha-”

“If you'll allow it, I'll sneak out and come visit once a week. We can organize the ducks and have lunch.” He looks at you like you're the answer to his prayers.

And hey, maybe prayers do make it out of hell after all…

“Yes! Please do! I'd- I'd love that! Oh wait, here!” He dove into a pile of ducks, digging around in the squeaking pile for a full minute before emerging with a single green duck with a turtle shell on its back. “For you. It's not perfect but…” You take it with a smile and hug him tight.

“It IS perfect. Just like you… thank you for such a fun day Lucifer. I'll see you in a week.”

He hugs back, and blushes. A week was going to feel like an eternity of waiting for both of you…

But, leave you must. He gives you his phone number and helps you get back up to heaven. Once there, you text all your friends that you're fine, and say you just spent the day alone at home because Adam was an asshole when being rejected, and you needed alone time afterwards. You hoped everyone would believe you and that he didn't tell anyone about what happened.

If they found out you spent the day in hell… Well, there'd definitely be consequences. Like not seeing Lucifer again! And you couldn't have that.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne #fallen apple #fallen angel

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sunshine-for-serotonin · 1 year

Note

I was just crocheting a scarf for my stuffed koala bear (who's name is indeed Erik) and was just thinking how adorable a drabble would be from you of someone doing the same for Erik, either book!Erik or musical!Erik, probably with plenty of him calling them maman and probably getting in the way like the clingy bug her is. If you could write something even small for that I'm sure it would be utterly adorable ^w^

Omg, that IS adorable! Thank you for this idea!!

Contains tumblr reference because reader is modern and also because I thought I was hilarious (read: I am sleep deprived).

The block of French Erik speaks to you translates to: “I want to cuddle with you! Erik needs cuddles! Please, mommy!”

Erik had been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes as you crocheted the black yarn into previous stitches. The scarf you were making for Erik was coming along nicely, though you couldn’t help but lament the fact that you weren’t able to keep it as a surprise for him, seeing as he followed you around like a puppy all hours of the day and then some, far after you had fallen asleep. But looking on the bright side, your babydoll probably didn’t even realize that the scarf was for him, if he knew it was a scarf in the first place. Your current situation was more than a little awkward if you were honest, the gangly man hadn’t even bothered to sit down, instead hovering to your right as close as he could get before the arm of the settee cut into his legs. Pausing at the end of your round, you gazed up at Erik, who in response turned red and began to fidget with his fingers, shifting his slight weight from one foot to the other.

“Are you okay, sugar? Do you need something?”

“M-maman, I…I want…I want…” Flushing further, Erik turned his gaze from his long fingers and stole a shy glance at your eyes before quickly averting them once more.

“What is it, babydoll? You can tell me.”

A small whimper left Erik’s throat as he tried to formulate his words, locked in a battle between his insecurities and his overwhelming desire for your love. Eventually, however, his need for you won out as a small plea made itself known to your ears.

“Mommy, maman…I-I…je veux faire des câlins avec vous! Erik a besoin de câlins! S’il vous plaît, maman!”

“As much as I would love to cuddle with you, babydoll, I kind of have my hands-”

You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before the tears began to fall from Erik’s eyes down to his misshapen cheeks. Collapsing to his knees at the settees side, Erik grasped your arm through his sobbing and pulled it over the edge and to his torso, clutching it like a makeshift teddy bear.

“-full. …oh, Erik.” With a small sigh, you moved to untangle your arm from Erik’s hold.

At the feeling of you shifting away from him, Erik was sent into a frenzied panic.

“No, No, No, No! Don’t leave your Erik! Please! Stay! Stay with poor, unhappy, Erik! Erik wants maman, his angel, his (Y/N), to stay!”

By the time you had managed to get your arm free, Erik had begun hyperventilating and as soon as you left his grasp, Erik’s hands went to cover his face whilst he cried, further blocking his air intake. Hurriedly pushing your crochet items to the side, you ran to the side of the settee and knelt down to Erik’s level, moving his hands from his face and wrapping him tightly in your arms. The pressure of you pulling him towards you seemed to do the trick, as Erik slowly started to calm down, regardless of how the tears still fell from his eyes.

“Oh, lovely…shh, shh, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sugar, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“Please, maman, Erik needs cuddles! Erik needs his (Y/N)!” Erik whimpered, still sobbing.

“Oh babydoll, I know, I know, I know. But Erik, the project I’m working on right now is for someone very important! So I need some time to finish it, but I’m almost done! In fact, it should only take me about another half hour since I’d worked on it some days prior!”

“But maman, Erik needs câlins! Please! If he doesn’t get them, Erik will surely perish!”

“Being a little dramatic are we, babydoll?” You chuckled gently.

Shaking his head no, Erik gripped you tighter, trying to signify that, yes, if you didn’t give him all your love and attention soon he thought he would actually die.

“Tell you what, babydoll, you can sit yourself right with me while I work, and as soon as I’m done, we can cuddle all your darling little heart desires. And-” You cut your self off to give Erik a quick kiss, smiling at how Erik tried to deepen it before you pulled away, a miserable whine leaving him at the loss of contact, and wipe away his tears. “-if you’re good for me, I’ll give you any kind of reward you want later.”

“Do you promise, maman? Do you swear to give your Erik your love?”

“I do, babydoll. Now let’s move back to the settee and you can sit with me, I’m sure it’s much more comfortable than the floor.”

“Merci, maman!”

—————————————————————————

“Erik, when I said you could sit with me, this is not at all what I meant and you know it. Do we have to sit like this?”

The only response you were given was Erik’s arms tightening around you and the nodding of his head against your skin. Currently he was perched in your lap with his arms around your neck as your hands rested around his waist, holding your almost finished scarf, hook, and yarn while you struggled to see over top of the man’s boney shoulder to continue your work. ‘So be it.’ You thought to yourself doing your best to count stitches and keep the yarn from tangling in your grip. As you continued on, Erik couldn’t help but steal a few kisses from your lips every five minutes to try and hold himself over until he could have your full attention, before tucking his disfigured face back into the crook of your neck until the yearning for your lips on his became overwhelming once more.

Finally, after a few minutes more, you were able to fasten off your row and cut the excess yarn.

“Alright, babydoll, I need you where I can see you!”

A whiny noise of displeasure left Erik as you tried to separate yourself from his hold, if anything Erik only gripped you tighter the more you tried to push him back.

“Erik, I promise, just this last thing and then I can hold you as long as you want, and you can hold me to.”

As Erik reluctantly drew himself away from you and sat up straight, you were reminded of just how tall the disfigured man before you was, silently laughing to yourself as Erik, so known for his genius and being a creature of the night to the few who knew him, looked at you and sulked at the loss of your touch. Gripping the freshly made black scarf, you delicately draped the material over Erik’s neck and wrapped it around his shoulders, not missing the look of wonder in his eyes as more tears welled in his sockets.

“Maman, is this really for Erik? For Erik to keep and treasure?”

“Yes babydoll, it’s for you. I even stitched the initials ‘O.G.’ into one end with some white-”

You were cut off by Erik’s happy wails, soon followed up by cold lips working feverishly against your own as though trying to consume your entire being.

“Merci, merci, merci, maman! Je t’aime! Je t’aime! Je t’aime!! Erik loves you, (Y/N)!!”

“I love you too, Erik. Now then, did you want to cuddle out here or in your room?” ‘Since I finally convinced you to get a proper bed with the promise of being able to hold each other more comfortably.’

“In my room, Erik wants to cuddle in his chambers!”

“Alright darling, we can if you wish. …I just realized you sound very much like a tumblr post back in my timeline with a cat named Miette.”

Shooting you a puzzled look, Erik halted in getting off of you.

“Pardon, Erik speaks like what?”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing. Like I said babydoll, it’s something from my original timeline.”

“Mmm, Alright…”

As soon as he stood up, Erik wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, successfully reminding you just how freakishly strong Erik was for his frame, and carrying you towards his room.

———————————————————————————

@sloppyzengarden

#erik destler x reader #yandere erik destler #erik destler #yandere phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera x reader #poto x reader #yandere poto

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landhficrecs · 8 months

Text

Alpha Harry

wind beneath my wings by lunarheslwt 93k

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered.

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

Cause I want you ( for the worst and for the better) by nonsensedarling 26k

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

Good enough ( for you) by localopa 8.2k

omega louis is next in line to rule the pack. in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate. harry somehow wins the gold.

Taking the long way home by baremysoul 12k

The line is quiet for a moment before the man asks. “What kind of car you got, honey?” “Uh,” Whether it’s from the pet name or the question, his brain freezes for a second. “It’s pink.”

The man huffs out a laugh. “That doesn’t tell me much, love.” “Sorry, I don’t know cars well.”

The man hums, before saying. “Tell you what, i’ll come out there and get ya, then we’ll talk about the charge on the way back.”

“Really?” He asks. “That’d be amazing.”

“It might take me a minute to get out there, at least thirty or forty. So just sit tight.”

“Alright, thank you. I really appreciate it.” He does a little victory dance in his seat. “My names Louis’ by the way.”

“I’ll see you soon, Louis.”

Or, Coming home from the beach, Louis' car breaks down and he has to call mechanic Harry.

Smokey vanilla by cinemayougot 25k

Louis is the sole guardian to his younger siblings, and he's fallen pregnant. A new neighbor moves in next door, Harry, and they become good friends. Harry is kind and beautiful. Louis can't help but fall for him.

Letters to June by Larry_you_know 41k

It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.

Single bells ring by nonsensedarling 16k

A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love. Just as Louis is settling in, ready to have a terrible time, he meets the fittest alpha he’s ever come across.

Colder weather by WritewhatIwant 19k

Louis doesn’t know what comes over him. “Please H-Harry, take me,” Louis looks back at the farmhouse, swallowing once as his skittish eyes fall onto the master bedroom window, “Take me with you, please.”

Harry’s scent flares, the tinged anger so noticeable that Louis draws back out of the alpha’s space.

“Is he hittin’ on you?”

Louis’ right hand rests briefly against the bruise forming rapidly over the right side of his rib cage, the darkness of the night hiding the movement. “No.”

Or, When Harry comes around, it’s the coldest time of year. Louis, for once, just wants Harry to take him away from colder weather.

Nothing burns like the cold by littlehazandlou 12k

When Harry had taken the job at Brantwood Community Infant school, he had thought he could settle reasonably easily. Everyone had loved him at his training school, the children and parents alike, but sadly - "you know they aren't happy that I'm an alpha." he mumbled and watched as Niall immediately softened, letting out a sigh.

Or, the one where Harry has never been a normal alpha, but it's alright because Louis was never a normal omega.

Pretty in Pink by lovelarry10 18k

“Love? Can I come in?”

Harry sniffed and shook his head before he realised Louis couldn’t see him. “No. Go home, Lou. Please.”

“I’m not leaving,” the Omega insisted, his voice full of concern. “And I’m not judging either. Just… talk to me, Haz.”

Harry briefly considered changing or at least ripping everything off and greeting Louis in his boxers before he realised that might actually be worse, that Louis had seen him dressed up and there was no need to hide anymore. He meekly shuffled over to the door and pulled it open before he backed away, refusing to meet Louis’ eyes.

To the Omega’s credit, he walked straight over to Harry and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his cheek between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“This top feels nice. Soft. I see why you like it,” Louis said quietly from behind him.

Alpha Harry loves to secretly dress up and be pretty. He loves his feminine side, even if it’s not typical of an Alpha. But when Omega Louis finds out, it might just the start of something even more beautiful for them both...

You’ll Hear Me Calling for You by pinky_heaven19 42k

“I don’t know, I don’t know you,” Harry said with a shrug, knowing his replies were dumb but not able to think of anything better to say. “You don’t know me either, so I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said, slouching on his seat.

“Oh, but I do know you,” Louis replied, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of disdain.

His attitude made Harry stare at him in confusion. Had they met before and he didn’t remember? Was that why Louis was mad?

“You do?”

“I know the likes of you,” Louis said with a shrug of his shoulder.

“The likes of me? Excuse me?” Harry was offended and confused.

“Alpha males who enter cock first in any room and think people should bow to them or some shit like that,” Louis answered bitterly.

OR the one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn't.

as deep as the sky by swallowsmateforlife 12k

A passed-out omega on the bathroom floor isn't exactly what Harry had in mind when he thought about taking a cute boy home. The idea of leaving Louis there, vulnerable and unresponsive, weighs guiltily at Harry's conscience. Turns out it's the best decision he'll ever make.

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by 2tiedships2 38k

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

@lunarheslwt @absoloutenonsense @2tiedships2 @fourmula1

(Please @ the authors if you can xx)

#ao3 fanfic #hlficlibrary #larry fic #larry stylinson #larryfics #lovelarry10

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legobiwan · 1 year

Text

I'm still sketching out some concepts for a Dimentio!returns story in the same universe as les meilleur.. and I guess this happened. More than likely I'll end up cutting half this out if I get to a final product. 'Kill your darlings' is regrettably true when it comes to writing. *Cries in a 100 orphaned scenes sitting in a master document*. But it's so, so easy to get caught up in Luigi and Dimentio's dynamic. My gods, is it fun to write.

Anyway, imagine, if you will, Luigi and Dimentio stuck in the Undewhere after the events of SPM, bound together by the Chaos Heart's magic. And yeah, Luigi maaaaaaay have wandered off with the Dark Prognosticus at some point.

This is a weird one, guys, and likely a little ooc (at least for Luigi. Definitely not for Dimentio, who is just a right bastard 24/7 in death and in life).

---------

“But the Pure Hearts.” Luigi pursed his lips, eyes darting to the coiled Underhand seemingly at sleep at the base of a black, rotted tree. He met Dimentio’s amused gaze. “They killed you.”

“Is that what your brother told you?”

Dimentio bent over, scooping up a handful of damp, rust-colored dirt between his hands, kneading the sticky material in a mangled, triangular figure. He plucked away at a skirted corner, rolling it into a little sphere between his fingers, pinching the upper face to create a thin outcropping, something akin to the brim of a hat. With concentrated care, he placed the ball - the head, Luigi thought - carefully back on the chewed-off angle.

“I did wonder if you were given the full story,” Dimentio said, considering the childish creation sitting in his palm with an odd tilt of his head. When he spoke next, it was more to the figure than Luigi himself. “If you remembered the beautiful creature we created together.”

Luigi frowned. “Creature?”

At this, Dimentio’s head snapped up, his mismatched, crescent eyes boring into Luigi’s own, a beat too long. Then, he grinned, turning over his palm to allow the rudimentary model to slip quietly to the ground. “I take it you weren't informed,” he stated.

Luigi stared at the ground where Dimentio’s now-forgotten art project lay, clenching his fists, fingernails carving ragged half-moon crevices into his palms. With a single, calculated motion, he raised his leg, planting his boot directly onto the fallen figure, flattening it with a satisfying squelch.

“What creature, Dimentio?” Luigi grit, chewing on every word as he loomed over the jester, who made no move of retreat or apology. To the side, another Underhand stirred, extending its thumb and forefinger wide in a silent, gaping yawn.

“Our grand finale, of course!” Dimentio exclaimed, giving an exaggerated bow as he doffed an invisible top hat in the direction of the gathering Underhands. “The great melding of you, I, and the Chaos Heart. A little something I called Super Dimentio. Not the most inspired moniker, I give you, but matters at hand had stifled my usual creative penchant.”

That...was something he hadn't remembered, the last hours of his time in Bleck’s castle a chaotic mishmash of jagged images, ill-fitting and swollen. They had merged, yes, were bound to each other's existences by the Chaos Heart. That much had been obvious from the moment he had stepped back in the Mushroom Kingdom, Dimentio’s cloying voice bouncing around his head at all hours of the day and night.

What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t glean from the Dark Prognosticus, was what form that ultimate fusion had taken in Bleck's high-ceilinged, geometric chamber of horrors. Unlike his time as Mr. L, his memories of this were sparse, pointillistic impressions of electric terror as Dimentio had called upon the Floro Sprout, his free will slipping from his grasp, disintegrating into a dark canvas of swirling violet.

“They saw us?” Luigi asked, voice wavering. "Like that?"

“They fought us,” Dimentio chuckled, "like that." He reached his arm forward, placing his palm against Luigi’s sternum. “And we were beautiful."

Luigi’s skin tightened at the jester's touch, his empty chest vibrating with pulseless static. He may have no memory of his melded image, but for too many mornings, he had woken with the taste of its infernal desire on his lips, a sweet burnt flesh and milky powder of cracked earth set atop loping, caustic ribbons of an unwound reality.

It was in him, was him now, these shadows of the Chaos Heart's design, this intoxicating, excruciating euphoria intertwined with Dimentio's twisted ambitions, wound tight around each thought and action he falsely believed to be his alone.

Luigi grabbed onto Dimentio’s forearm, ripping the jester's hand away from his chest.

“I want it and I want you out of my body,” he hissed.

Dimentio considered Luigi with narrowed eyes, his voice growing cold. “That will take some doing,” he countered.

“Then you’d better get cracking." Luigi gave Dimentio a shove, turning on his heel to march over to where Dark Prognosticus laid open, pages impossibly creaseless and unstained. He kicked at a creeping Underhand, sending it scurrying away, snatching up the cursed book before another crawling appendage could test its advantage.

“You wound me, Luigi,” Dimentio complained. “Can you truly say you haven’t enjoyed - what was that phrase you were so fond of in your alternate incarnation?” The jester snapped his fingers, feigning an open-mouthed revelation. “Ah yes. Our spiritual bond?”

Luigi gave a hoarse growl, gripping at the Prognosticus. “I should kill you."

Dimentio chuckled, his ever-present grin turning to a bladed malevolence. "You can't."

With a hissed, violent oath, Luigi hurled the cursed book at Dimentio, who leaned out the way just in time for the tome to go flying past his head. Luigi cursed his terrible aim, pointing to the dusty spot where the Prognosticus had landed.

“Then make it so I can.”

#hello there #writing #the eternal struggle #luigi #dimentio #more post spm nonsense #alright i am SO off duty from working right now #going to go on a run and then come back #write more #and play video games #for once in my not-so-young life i don't have to travel this weekend #YAY #coming up next: a little young mario and luigi story about the origin of their hats #and finally (FINALLY) the next chapter of expiate wherein i break mario's heart into a thousand pieces

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queerfables · 7 months

Text

@alphacentaurinebula said:

I’m actually not sure I have a firm idea of how long they’ve been in love - I’m super curious, what makes you feel so strongly about that particular timeline?

It's a few different things, but a big factor is just what I want to be true. I'm projecting, because a defining feature of my first queer relationship was both of us knowing that we were in love but not being together. I was a teenager and my parents forbid the relationship and like, I trusted them and I loved them and I knew they were fucking wrong and I didn't know how to reconcile any of that. Like Aziraphale, I was looking for this third way that didn't force me to choose between love and family or make a definitive statement about which of those sides of me was "right", especially because deep down I was terrified that the thing I wanted most was wrong. So instead of anything real what we had was this in-between space of plausible deniability, and that's where I think Crowley and Aziraphale live. The way they push up against a really fucking thin line between what is and isn't allowed speaks to that experience for me.

With that in mind, it isn't a particular timeline I'm set on so much as a particular dynamic. I'm not sure when they fell in love and I think it probably happened so slowly that neither of them could tell you either. But I think they've both been conscious of the unspoken feelings between them for a little while, at least. I'm not sure about Crowley's timeline for this but I'm pretty sure that Aziraphale thinks Crowley figured it out first. His "you go too fast for me" line only makes sense if he thinks Crowley is ahead of him. I'm inclined to trust Aziraphale's judgment on this, if for no reason other than that the line loses a lot of its power if he's wrong.

I have a pretty firm headcanon that Aziraphale realised what was between them in 1941 when Crowley came for him in the church, because allegedly that has been Michael Sheen's belief since season 1 and who am I to argue? I think the way season 2 expands on that night backs this up. I mean, you have Crowley and Aziraphale being pursued by Nazis, and a photograph of them together almost gets Crowley condemned to Hell. The implications are not subtle. They've worried about their association putting them in jeopardy before, but this is the first time there's been a real immediate threat based on it, and it feels appropriate to me if it happens right when they're finally on the same page about what they mean to each other. (Notably, I think this is also the first time they're mistaken for a couple, by Furfur. I'm not totally sure about that though.)

So maybe this is when Aziraphale realises he's in love, or maybe he already knew how he felt, and Crowley saving the books was when he realised Crowley loved him back. Whichever it is, the way he looks at Crowley with the music swelling around him just blatantly seems like a realisation to me. Something shifts in the way he sees Crowley in this moment. It makes me think of the Princess Bride:

That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying, "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you."

(God I'm suddenly completely obsessed with the parallels between Crowley/Aziraphale and Westley/Buttercup. Aziraphale getting Crowley to miracle away paint stains 🤝🤝🤝 Buttercup making Westley pass her a pitcher that's right in front of her. Amazing.)

So yeah, I don't know exactly when they fell in love and I don't think they do either. I think it happened at some point between 2500BC and 1941, so, you know, I'm not exactly pinning myself down there lol. I assume that Crowley is ahead of Aziraphale in terms of falling and understanding that he has fallen, and I assume that Aziraphale has all the pieces by 1941, which gives me a few good decades to play in that plausible deniability in-between space that I like so much.

#good omens #fable talks good omens

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thecontumacious · 2 years

Text

"Among the thousands I've met, you are the only one my heart resonates with."

mysta rias edition.

he was ready to give you up. but you give him one last spark of hope.

a/n: this is for the long promised series i announced a thousand years ago because i’ve recently hit 1K, but now i’m 500 followers late since i hit that mark so—anyway, here’s a little comeback gift after disappearing for so long!

reminder that all my work and others in the fandom are purely fiction and intended to entertain, not to be projected irl.

vox akuma edition (tba). luca kaneshiro edition. ike eveland edition (tba). shu yamino edition (tba).

it was all but a rush for mysta.

he woke up that morning, a little later than he liked because then he would have to quicken his morning routine and sacrifice breakfast time with you

when he entered the kitchen, you're leaning against the kitchen island with a piece of toast in your hand as you scrolled through your phone

mysta, without fail, smiles at the typical view he gets every time the sun breaks through the horizon. just you in your pajamas, some kind of light meal in your hand and idly on your phone as you wait for him to wake up

"morning, mysta!" you greet, crumbs on the corner of your mouth. you wave him over to grab something to eat. "lucky for you, i made you something quick but filling. grab a few pieces and rush to work."

oh, and the fact you also remember his schedule, despite he himself sometimes forgetting them.

"thanks, babe," mysta grins, doing as you said and pressing a long chaste kiss to your lips. you giggle and poke his side, eliciting a small chuckle out of the detective before he says, "i'll see you later?"

"yep," you nod. "be careful on the road, mysta."

"i will!" he chirps, pecking your cheek one last time before he says, "i love you, y/n."

and he'll never ever get bored of saying that. no matter how many times, no matter how long, no matter if you reciprocated it or not.

"i love you too, mysta."

and that was the last thing the detective heard from you. not just that day, but the next day and the entire next week you were declared missing.

when mysta finally returned home, he panicked upon finding the apartment door forced open and the knob fallen to the floor. he carefully makes his way inside, his heart only dropping lower with every step he takes.

the walls are littered with scratches, the floor is dirtied with various prints of shoes and items are thrown around the apartment.

these signs of struggles...

"y/n!" mysta shouts, avoiding knocked-over furniture as he frantically scoured the rooms for even a breadth of your hair. but he found nothing, even with his detective skills. it's like you had just disappeared.

then he ran out of the apartment complex like he had never run before all the way to the closest police station where he begs for an officer's help, face flustered as he told them how he wasn't able to find you

luckily, since mysta usually helped around in the police station, they recognize him and is willing to lend aid in almost no time. they ask questions, they send for search parties, they ask for announcements to be posted.

but it's all to no avail.

no one had seen you. no one had noticed you go missing.

it was so infuriating to the point mysta felt like pulling his hair until he bled. he didn't care how much it hurt. when he realized you were missing, that was the greatest pain he felt.

he didn't even realize when was the last time he ate something proper. just a cup of noodles two nights ago-ish?

"mysta, please go home," vox begs, tugging on his friend's arm to get up from his chair. but the detective only shoots him a look with his painfully bloodshot eyes then goes back to tracing files as though he hadn't been doing that the past eight hours or so

"mysta, you're going to kill yourself," the demon pleads once more, attempting to stop the stubborn man by pushing away his documents.

but he's met with a scowl from mysta, "fuck off, vox. i don't need you telling me what to do. i'm busy."

he understood how important you were to him. how incredibly meaningful you were. the joy you brought into his life. vox completely understood what it felt like to have someone so special by your side suddenly disappear.

but mysta was also one of his closest friends. there was no way in the world he was going to idle by and watch him deteriorate like this.

"this is not what y/n would've wanted for you," vox reasons.

at the mention of your name, mysta pauses and for the slightest second, the demon catches him dwindle down.

"they're out there somewhere. they could be in pain, almost dead, scared! i have to find them soon!" the detective turns to his friend, fear lacing his orange-blue eyes. "i can't afford to lose a second where i could be tracking them down, vox."

"don't you think they would've rather you showed up healthy and well-nutritioned than in bones and barely alive?"

"they're barely alive! i'll eat something soon, okay? just... just let me find them please. i need to know if they're okay," is the last thing that drove vox to sigh and leave his friend be, pretty much giving up on him for the day.

mysta breaths a sigh of relief and his eyes are trained back onto the long blocks of black text on the desk, occasionally a few inserted photographs of evidence and possible tracks you might’ve left behind

but then his mind suddenly echoes vox's words from earlier.

he was right. him treating himself like this for your sake was something you would never allow. it's only when mysta imagines your figure looming over him, giving him an earful does he really feel his hollow stomach

he picks up his phone and orders takeout, the usual one you and him would order on late nights like these. when it arrived, the whiff of the food invading his sense of smell, the detective is spilling tears all over his papers.

overwhelmed with memories he can't wait to relive again.

as mysta spoons every bite into his mouth, he closes his eyes even tighter, refusing to accept that when he opens them again, he won't see you there stuffing your face with takeout

but when the box is empty, he's forced to face the darkness and his loneliness. you still nowhere to be found.

somehow, it's been two weeks since the earth swallowed you whole and no one, not even detectives greater than mysta was able to find you. with every passing day, the man's heart only shrinks and greys.

two weeks of nothing... there was no way you were still alive, was there?

every time this thought would make itself present within mysta's mind, he would slap himself until his cheeks stung, determined that he would find you soon.

but again, even with the entire police force of the city, it really did seem like you've been swallowed whole by the earth. the detective pressed for them to search further, even if it costed his entire life's fortune.

it took even sonny to tell mysta they had to close the case, no matter how much he refused to believe you were dead.

"please, i know they're out there somewhere! we haven't found their body yet so there's still a chance--"

sonny pauses him by holding his shoulders firm, a heavy frown on his face, "mysta, please. we've done all we can. we've checked city footage, we've asked everyone single person in this city and ransacked it upside down. they're... they're already gone, mysta. you have to let them go--"

"no! i can't do that to them! not when they've never given up on me. i'm not going to give up on them," with that, the detective storms out of the station and away, to who knows where. all mysta needed was some space from the world and a clearer head.

he reaches the outskirts of the city, with lesser people and quieter streets.

"please, y/n, where are you..." he prays, wiping the sweat off his forehead. but it becomes more than his sweat he's erasing. it's his reluctant tears.

he hiccups, continuing to wipe away the endless river down his cheeks, "please, baby. please, give me a sign. where are you? please, come back to me."

ding.

mysta freezes, his sobbing ceased for a moment as he fished his phone out from his pocket.

baby 💕 : mystaaaa come pick me up will you?

huh?

the detective blinks, rubs his eyes once, blinks again before he looks down at his phone. th-that... that was a text from you? his eyes weren't deceiving him?

no, it was probably because of the lack of food he's been eating…

baby 💕 : i'm at the train station

baby 💕 : i'll share my location

then an exact location within the city. and it really was in a train station.

mysta doesn't even waste his time to text you back as he jogs on over to where you were.

it didn't matter it was still a mile away. he could run a thousand more just for you. because you were alive and you're asking him to find you. nothing else mattered.

the entire run to the train station, mysta can feel the weight of the past two weeks evaporate off his shoulders. all those late nights crying over you, scouring the apartment for weeks on end, asking everyone he met if they had seen you finally comes to fruition.

he was finally going to see you again, hold you again, kiss you again and tell you how much he loved you.

the station gates finally come into view and mysta pushed the last of his energy to speed up. then he rushes through, ignoring the people who eyed him oddly as he searched every station to where you could be

he frantically looked here and there, but you still weren't sight. mysta kept searching though, no matter if it took him all night.

then he sees you.

your hair in the distance and the outfit you were last seen in.

just like the first he met you, mysta's heart skips a beat as his legs carry him forward to you. when you turned a corner, he did too. when you ran, he ran.

"y/n!" he called out, but you only run faster away from him.

then mysta catches you jumping onto the railway of the train, still speeding your way through the tunnels. he immediately worries about an incoming train and almost contemplated whether to follow behind

but he's been looking for you all this time. how is a train going to stop him?

"y/n, wait up!"

he hops down to the railway as well, ignoring the officers present as he chased you down through the dark tunnel.

mysta couldn't recall just how long he's been trudging through the dark, but after a while, he was able to see the bright end and your figure standing right there.

he smiled, jogging the last final stretch and for once, finally sees your beautiful face in the early evening light.

two weeks.

the most excruciating two weeks in his entire life.

but that didn't matter.

there you were.

"baby," mysta calls out, his voice broken as his arm reached for yours. you merely giggle and your cheeks redden before pulling your lover into a tight embrace, one that felt so heavenly and comforting to mysta.

then he broke apart, sobbing into your shoulder, "y/n, baby, i was so worried. please, don't scare me like that again. don't leave me again."

you pull away, holding his tear stained face in your gentle arms, "you know i would never leave you, mysta. even if the world tore us apart, i'll always find a way back to you."

"mhm," he nods weakly.

you lean up against him, placing a chaste kiss to his chapped lips, "always remember i'll never leave you, mysta. because i'll always love you."

"i'll always love you too, y/n," he breaths out, every single inch of his heart filled to the brim with his affection for you. "let's go home."

"wait," you pause, pulling away from mysta. you tug on his arm and gesture towards the continuation of the train tracks. you say, "can i show you something first?"

the detective raises an eyebrow, but seeing as it was probably important, he nods. "lead the way."

then you let go of his hand, running to where you pointed and disappearing down a corner. mysta chuckles and jogs just behind.

but he pales up with every step he got closer to the corner.

w-what was that stench?

it was so strong and stomach-clenching that mysta almost hesitated to follow you. what were you going to show him? what did you do?

"y/n?" he tries calling, but you don't respond. so he has no other choice than to step closer to catch up with you. his stomach begins to empty out, the worry in his head only worsening

then he finally turns that dreaded corner and his nightmares manifest before his eyes.

"Y/N!"

mysta falls to his knees by your side, the soul leaving his body with only a broken heart remaining within. his hands shakily reaches for yours and the other for your head.

"y/n, baby..." he hiccups, followed by a straggling sob as he pulled you over to his lap. he cared no more for the terrible stench, he cared no more for himself.

he cared if they had let you go easily. he cared if they ever cared at all for your tears and pleads. he cared if you still remembered he loved you. he cared if you were happy, wherever you were.

"baby, i'm so sorry i was too late," mysta cries, hugging your head to his chest against where his beating heart would be. "please, don't leave me. please, come back."

but who was he to think that could happen?

your skin had turn grey, void of any of the bright red you wear out for the world so proudly. your gentle fingers that favored brushing through mysta's hair lays limp and stiff. your beautiful eyes that used to look at mysta with all the love in the world now forever gone and never to look back at him.

all those memories he wished to relive once he found you... now stays in the past, whether he liked it or not.

"y/n, baby," mysta howled, caressing your thinned out hair. "i love you. i love you so much. i love you so, so much."

always remember i'll never leave you, mysta. because i'll always love you.

you... you had led him here. you took up your remaining seconds on this world to lead him back to you. you found him again, even if the world did tear you apart.

you came back to tell him you loved him so much, one last time.

"i'll always love you too, y/n," mysta whispers, pressing one last desperate kiss to your blackish skin. he hugs you to himself as he took out his phone, dialing a number and spoke with a broken voice, "sonny, i found them."

within a few days, your funeral was held, mourned over by family members, friends and most of all, mysta.

he who worked the hardest to find you, he who cried days and nights praying for you to come home, he who suffered the heartbreak the most.

"i'll always love you," mysta repeats your words, his swollen eyes pooling with tears once more. as they closed your coffin, all the detective could do was reminisce the very last smile of yours, the very last ghostly kiss you gave him.

it felt so real, so warm, so you.

now he stands before your grave, your name etched into the tombstone and a bouquet of your favorite flowers placed where you rested.

his tired eyes daydreams what you two could be doing right now. his broken heart imagines the memories you could be making at that moment.

for the slightest second, mysta swore you were standing right in front of him, smiling a goofy grin and cheering him on in his work.

mouthing 'i love you'.

"mysta?"

he turns and sees his demon friend, carrying a bouquet of flowers himself. vox places the flowers next to mysta's before he turns to his friend, holding his shoulder firm, "are you okay?"

he blinks, the cold tears finally falling out of his eyes. he wanted to say no, he wanted to shake his head, he wanted to curse the world out for taking you away from him.

but then he sees you standing behind vox, smiling and waving. when he blinks again, you're gone again.

this isn't what they would've wanted for me. they would've wanted me to be happy and move on.

"mhm," mysta nods, cracking a small smile. he looks into vox's eyes and feels a sense of warmth upon remembering his friends. not just vox. there was luca, shu and ike. there were the others from niji.

"yeah," he says again, this time smiling wider. "i'm okay. call the boys and get something to eat together?"

vox chuckles softly, patting mysta's shoulder, "sure, buddy."

the detective looks at your tombstone once more and he gives you one last smile for the day, "i'll see you soon, y/n."

quick illustration done by none other than proofreader-san owo

Masterlist!

#author chan’s delivery service 🧺#luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji en #vox akuma #mysta rias #luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #shu yamino #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #akurylic #mystart #drawluca #ikenography #yaminoart

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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

Text

It's Always Been You

Young!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 787

Warnings: Mild language, a few mentions of sex

Summary: You're in love with Sirius Black, and there's no way he's in love with you.

General Taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1

Harry Potter Taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux

Sirius Black Taglist: @dragon-master-kai

Moots: @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria

A/N: For context, Y/N is a cat animagus :)

You are in love with Sirius Black, and Sirius Black is in love with Dahlia Bellemore. Now, you don’t know this for sure - he’s never admitted it upfront, and he never interacts with her unless they’re working on their Charms project - but there’s no way he isn’t. Dahlia is gorgeous - long wavy blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes, perfect rosy cheeks - there’s no way he hasn’t fallen for her.

You’re Sirius’s best friend, and his best friend only. You’ve known each other since you met in your first year on the Hogwarts Express, and you’ve been inseparable ever since. The only problem is that the constant interaction caused you to fall for your friend, and only deepened his purely platonic view of you.

So now you’re here, sitting in the Gryffindor common room with your three other best friends, waiting for the boy you’re in love with to come back from studying with the girl he’s in love with. Things are just great.

You curl further into yourself on the couch, trying to hone out your thoughts with the words in your book.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” Remus asks, concerned.

You purse your lips. “Nothing.”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Moony?” says James with a teasing smirk. “Whiskers misses her boyfriend.”

You scowl. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh, certainly. The two of you are just constantly all over each other and get your knickers in a twist every time the other’s away. Totally platonic, though.”

You sigh. “He doesn’t like me like that.”

James bursts out laughing. “Whiskers, what the hell are you talking about? That boy’s been in love with you since first year.”

You open your mouth indignantly, about to retort when Sirius walks in. “Moony, Wormtail, Prongs!” He plops down beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders and kissing your forehead. “And Whiskers, of course.”

James shoots you a pointed look.

You ignore him, cuddling against Sirius’s side. “How’d studying with Dahlia go?”

Sirius scrunches his nose. “Oh, it was a bore. Nothing but school and more school, blah blah blah.”

“That is what studying tends to focus on,” Remus points out.

Sirius grins and winks. “Not the way I like to do it.”

You stiffen. There it is. He wants to have sex with Dahlia. You swallow and stand up. “I’m… gonna go. Little tired, ‘kay?”

Sirius frowns. “What? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, I- I know. I’ll- I just need a nap.”

Sirius deflates, but nods. “All- All right. Have a good rest.”

You nod, turning away and heading to your dorm as you wipe tears away from your face.

You come to dinner only because you don’t want your friends to worry. You take your usual spot next to Sirius but can’t stomach a bite, too preoccupied with intrusive thoughts of your best friend and Dahlia Bellemore hitting it up in the boys’ dorm.

“C’mon, (Y/N/N), eat something,” Remus urges, eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“It’s okay,” you say, forcing a smile. “I’m just not very hungry.”

“(Y/N).” Sirius grabs your wrist, seeming almost frightened. “Please eat something.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pulling your arm away and running out of the great hall.

You’re on your way to your dorm, tears streaming down your cheeks yet again, when you hear footsteps behind you.

“(Y/N), wait up!” Sirius runs up to you and grabs both your hands. “What’s going on? And don’t say ‘nothing’, cause I know that’s bullshit.”

You try to keep your composure, but your bottom lip won’t stop trembling. “I- I- “ You collapse into his arms, sobbing.

“Hey, hey, talk to me, (Y/N/N), what’s wrong?” His voice is soft as he runs his fingers through your hair soothingly.

“I can’t stand it,” you whisper.

“Can’t stand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.”

You exhale another sob. “Her. I can’t stand the way you talk about her.”

Sirius pulls away, a confused frown on his face. “Her? Who are you talking about?”

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Sirius. Dahlia.”

“Bellemore?” Sirius lets out a confused laugh. “Love, there’s nothing going on between Bellemore and me. To be honest, I really don’t even like her.”

You wipe your eyes, confused. “Wh- what? But I thought…”

“(Y/N), I’m in love with you,” he says, cupping your cheek. “It’s always been you.”

You inhale shakily. “Really?”

He shakes his head, laughing. “What does this tell you?” He leans in and presses his lips to yours, kissing softly and then more passionately, lifting you up in his arms.

“I love you,” you tell him breathlessly when you break apart.

Sirius leans his forehead against yours. “I love you too.”

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let-your-chaos-explode · 1 year

Note

Okok. Listen

LessoxReader where R is Leonoras' best friend back in gavaldon. But they both like each other,they're just too scared to face rejection.

But then when lessk goes to the SGE R is devastated. Pretty much dead but alive.

THEN,THEN R GETS SELECTED TO GO TO THE SCHOOL. But she's an ever . They reunite and they tell each others feelings that never faded.

The rest of the plot is yours to make♡♡

IT HAS BEEN SO LONG BUT I GOT IT STARTED FOR YOU!!!!

I couldn't keep it brief, so it is broken up into a part 1 and a part 2 will be coming later! Stay tuned.

The day Leonora disappeared, you were devastated. Nobody knew how, or when, or why. All you knew was that your best friend was gone.

When you were five-years-old, some girls from town had started making fun of you for being dirty. Children are dumb, and it didn’t matter to them that your family was struggling. They didn’t understand that you could hardly afford food. How could you afford new shoes, fitted clothes, or anything more than a basic necessity?

Leonora Lesso was a year older than you and your savior sent from above. Or from below. It didn’t really matter which. She found you crying in an alleyway following another round of harassment from the girls in town. She had told you to suck it up and then offered to kick them in the shins in the same breath. You were inseparable ever since.

“Leo, come on. It’s not worth it.” You begged, pulling on her arm.

“It’s worth it to me.” She growled as she yanked out of your grasp.

“Oh look, the little piggy has a lion to protect her! Must be, with that matted mess of hair.”

Leonora sent you an exasperated side eye. You sighed and raised your arms in surrender before she slung out her arm and decked him. She shot you a toothy grin and kicked him once more for good measure.

You rolled your eyes and pulled at her hand.

“Leo, we need to go.” You said as the boy groaned in pain.

She leaned over and spit on his writhing form. With a satisfied nod, she curled her fingers around yours and walked with you back to the center of town.

“What?” She asked under your disapproving glance.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

She blew a raspberry at your chastisement. “I was just defending your honor.”

“My hero.” You swooned sarcastically.

She laughed and bumped your shoulder with her own. You couldn’t fight the smile any longer and let it break, warm affection bursting through. She truly was your knight-errant, if not in shining armor. It was no wonder you had fallen for her. But in Gavaldon, you were an outcast enough, already bringing her down from her association with you. And you weren’t even sure she would ever look at you the same way you looked at her. Instead, you hid behind jokes and friendly smiles. You would be happy with any piece of her she was willing to give. Best friends would be enough.

That night, the light tapping against your window pane pulled you from the most wonderful dreams of being caressed by a burnless flame. You looked around in a daze before catching sight of her outside. You quickly opened the window and beckoned her in.

“What are you doing, Leo?” You hissed, helping her climb through.

She snorted angrily and collapsed onto your bed. In the light of the moon slanting through the window, you caught sight of a motley of bruises littering her cheek. A sharp cut split her upper lip and the dark red contrasted violently with the paleness of her skin.

“Oh my god. What happened to you?” You asked as you tenderly brushed your fingers against her cheekbone.

Leonora shrugged with self-depreciation and offered you a halfhearted smile. “Peter showed up at my house with his father. Told him I jumped him while his back was turned. And, well, you know how my father is.”

She kicked up the covers and slid underneath, lifting them up in an offer for you to join. You needed no convincing. You climbed in and snuggled into the warmth of the cocoon she created. Her long figure wrapped around yours and pulled you tightly to her chest.

“Do you ever wish you could run away from this place?” Leonora whispered into your hair.

You chewed on the thought for a long minute. You were thankful your back was to her chest…it was easier to say if she wasn’t looking at you.

“No…that would mean being without you.”

You felt her rest her forehead against the back of your neck and sigh.

“I can’t stay here, Y/N. I want to burn this whole shithole to the ground. I know there’s more for us out there somewhere. We just have to find it.”

You found her hand and threaded your fingers through hers and squeezed tightly.

“Would you go with me? If I asked you?” She asked tentatively into the night.

“Of course.” You answered immediately.

Without a doubt. Without even a second of consideration. Wherever she went, you would follow. Even if it meant to the ends of the Earth and back. You wouldn’t be leaving home, you would be following it.

The conversation between you quieted as you felt her relax at your declaration. Eventually, her breaths evened out and you knew she had fallen asleep. You took the opportunity to turn in her embrace. In sleep, the harshness of her features softened. An occasional freckle peppered the bridge of her nose and dark lashes fluttered against her sharp cheeks. In the light of the moon, her long, curly, red hair seemed to almost glow.

“I would do anything for you, Leo.” You whispered, knowing she wouldn’t hear you.

If only you had the courage to tell her in the daylight.

You awoke the next morning to an empty bed. You knew she had to be home before her father found her missing, but the emptiness still left you feeling cold. You finished your morning routine with familiar ease and walked the dusty path from your house to the main road. A smile broke upon your face at seeing Leonora standing there waiting for you.

“Good morning!” You greeted her brightly.

Leonora simply pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed at her eyes. In the early morning sun, the bruise under her eye seemed less severe, but had already soured in color.

“You are way too chipper for this early in the morning.” She groaned. “Do you sing with the birds, too?”

“Only when I know the song.” You quipped back.

You linked your arm with hers and began the trek to the schoolhouse.

“No more fights today.” You warned at the stone steps of the building.

“If they keep your name out of their mouths, we wouldn’t have to worry about it.” She muttered darkly.

“Promise me!”

“Fine. I promise. Can we go become educated, now?”

Together, you climbed the steps and parted to your respective classrooms.

You always enjoyed school. It gave you a reprieve from the grueling work at home and opened your eyes to far off worlds and innovation. School was an escape.

As you found your chair, Peter’s shoulder roughly connected with your own.

“Watch out little piggy. Lesso won’t always be around to protect you.” He hissed as he walked past.

You shivered but ignored the pointed barb. That wouldn’t happen. Leonora wouldn’t abandon you.

The rest of the day passed by at an agonizingly slow rate. As the bell rang for dismissal, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your classmates streamed out of the schoolhouse like ants fleeing a flood and you got carried along by the surge. Outside, Leonora was waiting for you once more. She gave a sarcastic bow and offered you her arm to escort you home.

You walked in silence for a solid ten minutes before you mustered the courage to ask, “You wouldn’t ever leave without me, would you?”

The question was odd and the vulnerability was plain in your voice. It made her pause in her steps and the suddenness jerked you to a halt beside her.

“I wait for you every day, don’t I?” She asked you with a confused frown.

The expression was rather cute on her face and you wanted to smooth away the pinched expression.

“Of course!” You laughed. “I just meant if you ever left this place. You wouldn’t forget about me, would you?”

“Impossible.” She scoffed and a devilish smile grew on her face. “You’d be coming with me! I couldn’t possibly leave without my traveling pack.”

She lunged at you and tossed you weightily over her shoulder. A surprised shriek fell from your lips and uncontrollable giggles followed. You certainly wouldn’t complain. You had a marvelous view from your new angle.

“Besides,” Leonora continued with a more subdued tone. “You’re my conscience. I wouldn’t survive out there without you.”

Climbing the last hill to your house, she set you down gently and shot you an impish wink. A thrum of longing flared in your chest. You wanted to tell her everything.

“Leo, I…”

But the words felt caught in your throat. The bruises that littered her face mocked you. Gavaldon was unforgiving and completely intolerant of anything different. And the violence of the world’s reactions that adorned Leonora’s beautiful face were only the tip of the iceberg of what could come.

“Yes?” She dragged out in a sarcastic imitation of your hesitation.

“Nothing. I just…thank you. For being my best friend.” You stuttered lamely.

A small, almost sad smile pulled at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah.” Leonora said awkwardly. “Me too.”

The response felt heavy in the air and you suddenly felt like you had made a mistake.

“I’ll see you later!” She added after a beat, turning to head down the hill toward her house.

“Bye.” You called softly.

You watched her walk until her form faded into the sun.

Nightmares plagued you that night. Vague images of a smoky red sky and screams in the night. You felt exhausted when the sun rose the next morning. Thankful that tomorrow was the weekend, you dressed robotically for school.

When you made it to your gate, Leonora wasn’t there waiting for you. Unease buried itself low in your belly. She was never late. Even when she was sick, dead, or dying…she was at your gate to greet you every morning. You waited. And waited. And waited some more just for good measure.

You made it to the school halfway through the first period and ignored the stares as you found your seat. Your unease grew to monstrous anxiety that clawed at your gut. The buzz of the whispers around you fell like a fog until her name cut through the haze.

“The police were at the Lessos’ this morning. Maybe that’s why Y/N is late. They probably think she had something to do with it.”

“Do with what?” You asked, whipping around in your seat.

“Lesso’s gone missing. Parents seem to think she ran away.” The girl behind you whispered dramatically.

“She wouldn’t do that.” You adamantly denied.

But even as the words escaped your mouth, it felt like your heart tried to reach up and strangle them. To pull them back.

Not without me.

Suddenly, you couldn’t focus. The air felt thin and your ears began to ring. Was this what heartbreak felt like?

You stood and the ringing in your ears grew to a thundering roar. The voices of your teacher and classmates drowned in the same waves that seemed to crash over you. Ignoring the presence of everyone around you, you stumbled back out the door and sprinted home. You ran past the outskirts of town, ran up and over the hill of your house, and down the sloping curve to the Lesso family home. You didn’t stop until your fists were pounding against the rotting wood door, echoing the beats of your heart.

“What did you do to her?!” You screamed through the trembling pine.

The door swung open to reveal the hulking form of her deadbeat father.

“Get the fuck off my porch.” He growled as he shoved you off the step.

“What did you do to her?”

“I ain’t touch her.” He hissed.

“We both know that’s not true.” You said lowly through clenched teeth.

He looked at you through narrowed eyes and straightened his back.

“Bed was unmade this morning and window wide open. Ungrateful brat finally took off. If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t come back.”

He said no more and slammed the door.

Your feet blindly carried you back to your front gate where you collapsed into a heap against the post. Sobs suddenly crawled up your throat and broke free in an agonized scream.

She left.

#Lady Lesso #Leonora Lesso #Lady Leonora Lesso #Lady Lesso x reader #Lady Lesso x you #Leonora Lesso x reader #Leonora Lesso x you #friends to lovers #angst #tw: referenced child abuse #tw: bullying #pre canon #fanfiction #fanfic #School for Good and Evil #SGE #Part 1 #wlw #female reader

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writingsofwesteros · 13 days

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If Daeron comes home with a girlfriend from Oldtown, Nora and Hel are kinda (very) jealous- Aegon and Aemond find it funny until it means they're getting less attention. Nora stands there with her brow raised and a hand on her hip, while our sweet Hel, doesn't look very menacing but looks at the girl rather intently. They both wanted to be the ones to show their brother the ways of pleasure, the Targaryen way. Daeron has always kinda revered his sisters, so he's nervous when they look at his girlfriend like that, and the girlfriend's kinda nervous too, after all, everyone knows who the Targaryens are- especially Nora-

"And these are my sisters, Daenora and Helaena-" Daeron introduced her to his sisters as Aemond and Aegon watched with amusement from across the room- they're used to being the jealous ones, so seeing the tables turn is certainly interesting.

"Oh my gosh, hi- I saw your photoshoot in King's Landing Daily last month, you were so gorgeous-" The poor girl rambled nervously, and Daenora said cooly, "Thank you. So, are you in med school with my brother?"

"Oh, no, I'm actually studying to be a teacher-" "How...quaint," Nora said, as Daeron looks on between them, he knows that Helaena is definitely the nicer of the two, and that Nora has verbally torn into people more than once (god forbid the same person pisses off her and Aemond) "Daeron's told me so much about you guys-" "Has he? I'm afraid our little brother's been away from home for so long, we figured medical school's had him tied down to Oldtown. Not realising of course there are other...things that have kept him there." Daenora told her, ignoring Daeron's pleading look. "So- Hel," Daeron quickly cuts across. "How's your thesis going?" "Lovely, brother," She says sweetly. "So, is your girlfriend staying here while you're home?" "Well I haven't asked mom yet, but-" "She can't." Nora said nonchalantly. "Mother's redecorating the guest rooms. Her latest project after the annual gala- that you missed again." "She can stay in my room, Nora, it's-" "Come on sweetie," Nora said, resting her hand on his forearm. "You know how traditional Mother is, it would be so...improper to ask her to let your girlfriend stay in your room, here." "You're right," He easily conceded, and Hel swooped in. "She can stay at one of the hotels, don't worry brother. We'll sort it out." Poor girlfriend barely got a word in, and soon Daeron's sitting between his sisters, and Nora tells his girlfriend, "You understand, don't you sweetie?" And the girl just nods, very few people are stupid enough to cross Nora.

Nora's bite is delicious to witness! Blaming Alicent , bless and it works oopsie.

Daeron is blushing at how his sisters are acting; those bright locks of his moving into his face for a moment before Helaena gently takes his hand.

She is the one to watch for but oh how he has fallen into her trap already. "Brother..so happy you are back." She cuddles into his side; burrowing into his neck

#social media au

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messymindofmine · 8 months

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I know that I've talked about this before but this really is something that's been bothering me for so long now. Since the beginning of the show almost. I'm really sick of the hate TK has gotten from the start but even more than that, I'm sick of the hurt that this hate has caused people being ignored/invalidated. Since 1x02, there has been a common refrain of "Carlos deserves better than TK" and literally everything TK does (or doesn't do) is used as evidence against him. I'm also really over the people projecting their dissatisfaction over Carlos's arc this season onto TK. Just admit that you don't like the Iris storyline or the kids storyline without projecting onto the characters. Then again, I guess admitting that would mean having to admit that they actually never really even liked Carlos to begin with either and only acted like they did for as long as they could just blame his flaws and mistakes on others rather than acknowledge that he is a complex character in his own right and is allowed to mess up. It's honestly just plain annoying how so many of the people who've spent years ripping TK apart for every little thing suddenly started acting like they were only upset on his behalf this season with the Iris arc or 4x12 only to then revert back to the usual "TK doesn't love Carlos as much as Carlos loves him" refrain after 4x16. If they weren't mocking him for being "overdramatic" for being scared about the possibility of having Huntingtons, they were criticizing his wedding vows for not being good enough. Or they constantly act like any case of compassion towards TK's mistakes or talking about how he deserves love means we're ignoring Carlos. This has been going on since the start.

Now I'm not saying that there weren't people who weren't genuinely upset on TK's behalf this season nor am I saying that the people who were upset in general aren't valid. In my experience the people in the former groups aren't the ones continuously going on about how Carlos has been ruined for a start. What I am saying is that it's actually very easy to tell who was upset on TK's behalf/who had valid reasons for not liking these storylines and who was just upset that Carlos had fallen off the pedestal they'd put him on. Having watched the show since it first started airing, I actually didn't want to engage with the fandom at first because it felt like all I ever saw were people talking about how much TK sucked. And as someone who identifies with him, that really sucked. Obviously I realized that this attitude is not held by the majority but it still doesn't make it any easier to see this attitude floating around constantly. But what makes it even harder is how often I've had people reach out to me because they feel that their hurt over how TK is treated being ignored or even outright mocked. The fact that even Ronen has picked up on this and made comments about how he feels that people need to remember TK's struggles and how it affects his actions speaks volumes. I'm not trying to be negative, I'm just really exhausted and hurt over how much hate I've seen towards TK over the years and how often it feels like that has gotten swept under the rug. There are people in this fandom that actually deal with things like addiction and mental illness and it's been extremely disheartening to me to see how many have had to step back or leave the fandom altogether over the years because they just couldn't deal with seeing a character they see themselves in be torn apart constantly only for people to act like it's not even happening. The truth is that there is a lot of ableism wrapped up in how TK is often talked about in this fandom and honestly that's why I wasn't surprised at how Iris had been treated because if people can act like this towards a main character, what hope could a side character like Iris have? After all, there are people who seriously think that TK should just be able to make his mental health issues go away so that Carlos would never have to worry. And what these people conveniently don't think about is that Carlos loves TK as he is and would never want him to dismiss his struggles.

Again, I know that this isn't the majority and I know that most people do care but I also feel like this is something that doesn't get talked about as much as it should because real people have been and continue to be hurt by it

#911 on fox #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos

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delivish · 4 months

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first lines in 2024

i've been a little quiet on here because i've actually been plugging away with writing, but i was tagged by the super-nice and super talented @betaot4 (seriously, go read their works, they are so. good) and thought it would be fun! here's two excerpts, one from my butters/scott fic, the other from a secret project 👀 the malkinstotch fic was technically started dec 27th, but idc idc, it counts, lol

Malkinstotch Fic:

After the break was physical education. Scott dressed in his shirt and gym shorts and skipped energetically out to the field. He’d always liked P.E. Most of the kids he went to school with thought physical education was just a gimme class — and, to be fair, they were right — but Scott welcomed the opportunity to get out and exercise, even if he got tired pretty easily and was almost always picked last for everything. His mother hated that he was still taking P.E., even though, according to her, he had a serious medical condition and should have been excused. Scott didn’t see what the big deal was. His mother worried about him getting hurt, and maybe that was fair; any injuries he got always took him twice as long to heal on account of his being diabetic. But then again, his mother had spent his entire life worrying about him getting hurt, often and loudly, much to the chagrin of his childhood Pediatricians. If wiping his ass had the potential to hurt him, Scott was halfway convinced his mother would be doing it for him. He loved her, but her concern for him sometimes felt like a watery grave slowly being filled one cup at a time. Not enough to kill you outright, but you’d eventually drown in it all the same. It was raining out, so they were inside today. Scott could see Butters standing on the other side of the basketball court. Butters turned his head to one side as Scott looked, presumably to catch Clyde Donovan’s latest lame joke, and laughed. Scott watched Butters’ eyes go soft at the corners, big and bluey-green, watched the magical way they seemed to shift more green than blue and vice versa whenever the light hit them just right; whenever Butters laughed it was like Scott was pressing into an old bruise, the way it hurt and felt kind've good all at once. Butters was like a controversial flavor of pie — banana cream, maybe — in that not everyone liked him, but it was okay because he was still sweet.

Secret Project:

His Narcotics Anonymous group met every Friday evening at 8 PM in the gymnasium of the local high school. Butters didn’t get off work until seven-thirty, though, and the veterinary clinic where he was employed as a tech was forty-five minutes across town. With traffic, he was almost always fifteen or twenty minutes late, on top of being tired, stressed out, and covered in animal hair — or worse. Bebe had told him over and over again that it was okay. She knew he was working, and she didn’t care how late he showed up as long as he kept showing up. Her reassurances, gentle as they were, had fallen on deaf ears. Butters’ stomach twisted itself into knots every time he walked in here, bile slicking the back of his throat, anxiety slithering under his skin like some parasitic worm that existed only to amplify all his bad thoughts. If it hadn’t been for his therapist, Butters probably would have stopped going to these stupid meetings a long time ago. But Stan, in an uncharacteristic display of offering an actual fucking opinion, seemed to think it would do him some good to see that other people had struggled with this, that he wasn’t as alone as he’d always felt. Butters chuckled miserably as he parked the older model white pickup he’d traded in his Mini-Cooper for when he moved back into town. His old car had been cute when he lived in Los Angeles, but he was in the boonies now, as rural as he could possibly get without becoming an actual hermit. Maybe these meetings would do him some good, but god, all he could think was how much his mother would have hated the thought of him coming here, how she would have berated him for being such a weak, useless, fairy-fucking moron who couldn't keep his shit together. Which, of course, was part of the problem.

I am tagging @thegloriousninjaturtle and @stennyandbaddecisions!! Totally optional, ofc!! 💕

#SP Fanfiction #Scott Malkinson #Butters Stotch #Kenny McCormick #WIP #My writing #SP Scutters #Tagging for relevancy lol

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kotias · 9 months

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Aziraphale, the angel, dances.

Crowley, the demon, doesn't dance.

From the beginning, they have both been playing with the lines between what it means to be an angel and a demon, and those are the little details that show it.

Aziraphale ends up being the one who brings Crowley into the world of the humans, and not the other way around. Sure, Crowley gave him the first taste of it, but he is the one, later in history, introducing Crowley to oysters, inviting him to eat crêpes in Paris, inviting him to the Ritz for the first time.

Aziraphale is also much less afraid of objects made for killing (guns, swords), while Crowley is very wary of them (never used a gun before having to do it for Aziraphale's magic trick).

To me, it shows that Crowley indeed only "sauntered vaguely downwards", being much more of the "annoyance" type than a real menace to humanity. He has a brilliant mind to destroy the morale of people, and kind of rips their humanities away by constructing long-term projects that put to shame any other demon, but he says it himself: the horrors that humanity does are beyond what he could imagine, or happen quicker than he can devise his plans entirely.

And in the end, when he sees that people are about to doom themselves to certain Hell, he saves them from perdition.

Crowley's problem with Heaven isn't that he is a demon and that's what a demon does; his problem with Heaven is that he doesn't understand why he deserved Falling.

And that is why he has such a hard time accepting words like "kind", "nice", or to be forgiven: those words always come when he is at his most natural, doing something as a gut reaction.

To him, that's not being nice, that's being who he is, and a Fallen Angel has been established to be "not nice".

He is playing a role, through and through, but at core, he is still an angel who doesn't know why he has been cast an Unforgivable.

It is his way of being "grey": he keeps his angelic values, but plays the part of a demon.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale's way of joining the "grey side" is by relinquishing some of his values, when he sees that they are flawed:

no dancing

listening to the Music of the Spheres only

no eating, no alcohol, no "material world" consuming

using the words "oh lord", "God", "by Heaven", "for Heaven's sake", etc. (note here that Crowley NEVER uses those expressions, or fumbles hard trying to use them but being very awkward about them)

He takes great pleasure in those things.

He is still a beautiful sunshine, who definitely loves playing the part of the naive little angel for Mr Anthony J. Crowley to help out, but he also seems to be the one initiating those little "games" with him, making the most out of their immortal lives together; because he is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing".

(the gif below is his reaction to that compliment that Crowley gives him and oh my god I cannot believe some people can think he's not in love)

But that is where it is interesting: Aziraphale is probably the closest thing to who Crowley was as an angel. Investigative, questionning the Greater Plans and working as he thinks is best.

Crowley has some experience with being lonely and confused, and he likes asking his questions. That is, in fact, what pushes Aziraphale out of his "everything is perfect and jolly" state of mind and pushes him to lie to Gabriel eventually.

And that is the essence of why Crowley and Aziraphale are so attached to each other: they understand where the other is coming from.

All this to say: they have been feeding each other's light and darkness for 6000 years, at this point they're both the perfectly neutral shade of grey.

#good omens #crowley #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

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