#could of done better for coloring but I’m too tired

[lilmsmurderr]

Greek AU Bela.

#If anyone wants to write for this I was thinking she was kinda like Achilles #or the daughter of Ares #anyway I enjoyed drawing this #could of done better for coloring but I’m too tired #art #my art #bela dimitrescu

[nysrage]

Rollin’ To Love, Onyankapon.

synopsis: you and your friends scheduled a girls night at cascade for valentines & love seemed to roll your way.

content: romance, fluff, hard to get reader, & barely suggestive themes.

ny’s notes: so while taking a short break to reflect & improve my writing i came up with this new au inspired by @kaegetsmewetter. i advise listening to the songs i linked during their little moment to really immerse yourselves & hope you enjoy! happy love day babies! 🏹🩷

“I-I’m going to fall!”

You didn’t think your valentine’s would be going this way but it was debatable that it was better than how you’d normally spend it. This same recycled day had been the same for as long as you could remember. Just you alone in your room eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie— love jones. The few romances you had never made it past this societies ‘talking stage’ or either ended up as one of those emotionally draining situationships. It was as if love and romance never truly worked for you and only brought trouble.

Slowly you’d come to accept it, until there was a ring of your doorbell. Opening the door to your friends holding balloons, roses and some valentines cookies, “HAPPY VALENTINES BOO!” brushing past you and welcoming themselves into your home. The sight putting a smile on your face, it’d been so long that someone had done something so special for you beside your parents. “Awe y’all really didn’t have to do this..” engulfing them into a group hug and holding them tight, grateful for such attentive friends.

“Girl you deserve to feel loved on this special day too! That’s why we decided to spend the night with you.” kyndall reassured, popping one of the pink candies in her mouth.

“So go get dressed loser, we’re going to cascade!” Dallas giggled, pushing you towards your room. Whirling around in her hold with a questioning brow. “Really cascade..?”

“What.? I’m tired of the club scene and we could use some good fun like when we were teens!” Dallas shrugged, with that soft glint of excitement in her eyes. “C’mon it’ll be fun..” kyndall coaxed, fluttering those volume lashes until you gave in. surrendering your hands in the air and walking towards your room.

“Okay, okay! No promises i’m getting in that rink tho!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh my god, i’m never letting yall convince me into coming here againn!” you whined, gripping onto your bestfriend’s jacket for dear life. Legs wobbling from the rolling skates gliding across the smooth floor not seeking to stop anytime soon, especially not with the crowd of people blocking your way to get to that safety wall you could hold onto.

Saturdays were still apparently the hottest for cascade, everyone seeking for fun outlet for the night. The flashing multicolored lights dancing around the walls and floors, as you and your friends entered. A upbeat set of early 2000’s song blasting over the speakers, as you waited in line to secure a pair of skates. “girl, girl girl. the niggas is out, look!” her constant tapping in of your arm made you finally look up. the group of skaters in particular that caught kyndall’s eye, vibing along to ray j’s ‘sex can i’ with their routines. the front two standing out from the rest, one with a colored buzz cut and street wear fashion. The other a fine chocolate man with a white fitted polo tee that hugged his slim-muscular build, and head full of soft deep waves. Beautiful smile still white and flashing even beneath the hues that illuminated the floor.

“Yeah, we got to get to that floor. Now.” kyndall swooned, grabbing her skates and footing towards the nearest bench to get them on.

“Damn bitch. wait for us!” Dallas laughed, the two of you following behind your eager friend.

Leading you right to this moment, settled into an uneasy stance and terrified of the little control you had over your legs right now. Skates clunking against one another as you tried your best to glide smoothly across the floor. “you got it, glide one foot after the other..” Dallas instructed, but it just seemed as if your uncoordinated body just couldn’t get with it. Wobbling above the laminated floor. Hands wrapped tightly around hers as a effort to keep yourself steady and upright, praying that you wouldn’t eat up the floor.

“Okay, m’gonna let go.” Dallas nodded, eyes on yours as she slowly released your hand. “Don’t overthink it boo.” Your body wobbling a little before it steadied as you continued to roll slowly. “I-I think i got it..” you breathed out, hand cautiously out in front of you.

“Think you’ll be good while i take a few quick laps?” She questioned and you nodded, waving her off trying to concentrate on keeping yourself steady. Counting your steps to yourself as you try not to fall on your ass in front of the big ass crowd of people. Smiling to yourself at the slightest improvement and increase in speed until another skater brushed past you, bumping into your side with a scoff. “Girl move your non-skating ass out the rink, tryna be seen n’ shit..”

Tripping over your skates and stumbling forward when suddenly a quick hand caught your arm. One strong hand resting on your waist and steadying your body before your feet could’ve swept up off the ground. “woah, you good ma?” A shaky breath left your lips as you brush your crimped hair from out of your face, “Yea, i-i’m just gonna—” refusing to look up, rolling away with a face full of embarrassment. Strong hand still holding onto your arm until you sat firmly along the bench. “Don’t trip, it’s a lot of people showing out for the crowd.”

“Slow sets the best to roll to.”

If it was even possible you became more embarrassed once your eyes met the person talking to you, The man being one of the smooth skaters that led one of the groups from earlier. Now that he was up close you could take him in fully, from his perfectly sculpted jawline to his tattoo covered arms. Those pearly white canines covered with custom open faced grills on display as he expressed his love for slow sets. barely even realizing you’d been staring awkwardly as you looked him over, but he paid it no mind just properly introducing himself to you. “Shit my bad I’m onyankapon, most just call me ony tho.”

“y/n.” briefly introducing yourself, “i can’t see how y’all do all this without falling on your ass..” you huffed, frustrated from the short time you spent out in the rink.

Ony laughed at your cute little pout, taking a seat next to you. He couldn’t lie you caught his eyes from the moment he saw you. Pretty skin glowing beneath the illuminated lights as you cautiously rolled within the crowd of people, lip tucked behind your pretty teeth with focus in your eyes. “Been doing this since grade school, plenty of practice.”

“but you just feel and move with the beat” he further explained, pointing out the many people that demonstrated his words. “Don’t think just let your body do all the work and it’ll come to you..”

The dj mixed into a slow set, the lights dimming into soft romantic hues as the ‘unthinkable’ remix by alicia keys and drake began blasting through the speakers. Mood quickly setting in as the skaters eased into the tempo, dj extending the intro as he shares his quick sentiment over the mic. “This for all my single people that hadn’t quite found that one, or even haven’t found the right words to say your ready for more. but ima help you get to ‘em tonight!”

Unbeknownst it was a song the both of you found yourselves listening to quite often these days. Not knowing when that right person would come into your life and changing that lonely destiny you found yourself believing more and more. Mindlessly swaying to the beat, ony gave you a quick glance before standing with his hand held out for you. Your eyes widening in panic when he suddenly ask you to skate with him but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not when this had been that meant to be feeling this exact song had spoken of. Not waiting for him to finally get his one on one time with you eventually while he was in his element, and if he had to take the lead then he’d do exactly that.

“oh, no, no, no.” reaching back for a seat that was no longer in your grasp, ony shooting that same charming smile that caught your sights earlier as he pulled you onto the floor against your will. “i got you pretty, you trust me..?”

A small look of uncertainty occupying your face as you look over the crowd of skaters that vanished as you look back into his sincere eyes, giving in and uneasily skating forward to get closer to his towering form. Ony met you halfway and suavely spun your body into his, arms snaking around your waist as you took a slow unsteady breath as his hands rest just above your inner thighs. Heart thumping wildly in your chest as your body grows warm from those minuscule touches. Mind filled with nothing but him in that moment, that intoxicating jimmy choo cologne took over your senses as his protective arms tightened around you. Body turning to putty as you practically melting into his arms, nothing but a soft whisper leaving your lips.

“ony..”

“just focus on me…” warm breath fanning against your skin as his lip brushed the shell of your ear, keeping you pressed flush against him. Helping guide your movement to the slow rhythmic beat of the song, your small soft hands resting atop of his comfortably. Body submissively relaxing into his as you following his lead, swaying in sync as the two of you lose yourselves in a sensual stroll “there you go, feel the beat.” tapping softly to the beat against your thigh.

Maintaining a steady speed as if there were no one else in the building but the two of you. Strolling together for the rest of the night until the dj came to a satisfied close, happy with the outcome his slow sensual set had for the day of love. The two of you walking out the building together as the muffled music leaking through the doors. “Thank you for tonight.” you smiled, nervously pushing a loose crimp behind your ear. “Your a really good instructor.”

“Well I had a good partner.” he chuckled, that charm of his now in full swing “If you ever wanted to learn some more moves, I could give you my number..”

“Maybe even make into a little weekly date.”

“Maybe..” you hummed, looking him over as you backed away towards your friends. “same day and time next week?”

“bet, I never got your number tho.” reaching for his phone, as you giggled in the distance. Testing his patience on how much time and effort he’d really put into getting to know you, Opening the passenger door with a small smirk. “I know, see you next week ony..”

Leaving ony nothing but the memory of you and a mental note to be here waiting for you the next week.

#nysrage works ✭ #black writers #onyankopon x reader #rollerskater!ony au #ony #aot onyankopon #aot x black!reader #aot x chubby reader #onyankapon #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x chubby reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #ony x black reader

[elliyoyo]

Adverse Effects (Gale Dekarios/Reader)

Hello hello, long time no see. With over 700 hours on BG3, I figured it was about time I cracked my knuckles and got to work delivering the goods. Hope you enjoy and just a reminder: Requests are open!

Desc: You give Gale a magical ring but don't check it's magical properties first. He ends up hot and bothered, and it's on you, good leader.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), sex pollen, and a good ol' creampie

Words: ~2.5k

“My condition is worsening again, I need to consume some powerful magic, or it may become volatile,” Gale begs, nearly collapsing against the tree trunk behind him as he missteps behind you and the rest of the group. If not for you stopping, Astarion and Lae’zel would’ve kept trekking along, but you weren’t just going to leave your poor resident wizard behind after all he had done. He clutches at his chest, heaving as he expectantly looks at your pack for an item to extinguish the enchanted flames building inside of him.

“Here, Gale, use this.” You offer a ring you dug out from the pile of jangling jewelry collecting at the bottom of your bag. The pink stone seemed to glint and shift colors as it was plucked out of your fingers, but you paid it no mind.

He examines it for a moment but has no problem rasping out a “thank you” before pressing it to his chest and letting himself absorb its magical energy. One moment, he’s engulfed in a purple, violent flame, and the next he breathes a sigh of relief, sans ring. His desperate breathing slows and his pain seems to be minimized, however, he is still looking off into the hills, dazed as all Hells.

“Doing alright now? How was that one; still helping less and less as we go?”

He solemnly nods, the relief of the magic already fading away from him. He collects himself for a moment, turning into the dull full-body aching that was a new, not-quite-unwelcome side effect… Better than having no bodily sensation at all in the grave, eh?

“This one was off… different… But I should be alright. Thank you very much, again.”

Should be alright was far from the truth, as you would find throughout the day. Missed attacks, too many close calls to be comfortable with, and just general Gale mishaps that were worthy of genuine concern. One specific battle called it— every single spell missed its target, or had a payoff so low that it would’ve been laughable in some other scenario. After narrowly avoiding death for almost 8 hours straight, you’d had enough and it was time to make sure this was the end of it.

“Okay, I’m beaten, and I bet you guys are too, so how’d you feel about heading back to camp for the night?”

“Yes! Gods, Heavens, Hells, yes, my bedroll is calling my name like a harpy,” Astarion proclaims, throwing his arms in the air dramatically. Lae’zel seems to agree in her own more contained, Githyanki way, pressing her lips together with a subdued nod. And Gale, standing there still-dazed, could only nod and turn in the direction of camp. Your eyes met his for only a moment, but in that moment, you saw a half-lidded wildfire going on, yet you couldn’t help telling yourself he must just be tired as all Hells as well.

So, as you make the trip back to settle in for the night, you can’t help the confusion that hits you when you catch him rubbing and adjusting his waistband. Can’t help but be intrigued by the little faces and noises he makes as he does it. Seems like that ring you gave him had some adverse effects…

Interesting.

Astarion had scurried off to his set up, Lae’zel immediately went to work on maintaining her sword, and Gale took off inside of his tent at mach speed. No grabbing a book, no sly joke, nothing, just bolted out of sight. You take a moment to say hello to and check in with everyone else around camp, but Gale stays prominent in your mind. As you realize nobody else is around to see you flocking to his tent, you clear your throat to let him know you’re there.

“Are you alright in there? Is it the tadpole, or do y—”

“What did I previously say about privacy? I just— ah— don’t feel well at the moment, I’m a little out of my element,” Gale stutters out between gasps and breaths through his teeth. You keep your eyes fixated on the telescope in the front, waiting to see if he continues, but he falls silent.

“Out of your element how? Something you ate, overexertion, magic-related…?”

“Magic-related. For sure. But alas, I’m a wizard! Made of magic! Perfectly capable of handling it, so you should just get some sleep. Forget about my ailment for the night, and it should be dealt with by the time we have to depart in the morn.”

“No, Gale, I’m sorry, but I’m coming in— make yourself decent,” you joke as you walk in, not expecting him to be gripping his cock tight as could be. You gasp, trying to find something, anything, else to look at, but all you keep coming back to is his rubbed-red and raw, weeping head. “Gods, wha— are you alright? What is going on?”

“That ring is happening. It was enchanted, obviously, but differently than we initially thought.” He’s so casual about it that he doesn’t even seem phased, continuing to slowly caress his shaft. “I, uh, I apologize, it’s like I’m charmed, aroused by nothing in particular, it’s strange…”

“Is there anything I can do? Is there a…” You trail off, clearing your throat and turning to look at the moon above you. “Uh, anyway I can help?”

“Without your mouth? Unlikely.”

And he goes beet red, cursing his jabber jaw, his blabber mouth, his fatal flaw of not being able to just shut the fuck up. Clearing his throat, stammering as he pushed out a rushed, “I’m so sorry, you should go. I should stop, this should stop— I didn’t mean to offend, I’m so— Oh gods!”

Without any hesitation at the offer, happy to help a friend in need, and very happy that said friend happened to be Gale, you’re closing the makeshift tent’s door and dropping to your knees in front of him. Even with him lying down, you can still wrap your hand around him and give him a few firm tugs.

“I can do a lot with my mouth, but I can still work some magic without it if you will.” There’s a devilish glint in your eyes as you continue tightly jerking him off, his eyes and mouth wide open in shock and insane pleasure. He’s unable to will any words to escape him, save for the moans, groans, and grunts that involuntarily slip from his sweet lips.

“Is this—” He’s broken off by a whine as your finger grazes over his tip. “The ring? The enchantment?”

“No, no, I don’t feel off, I just… want you. I desire you. I’ve thought of this— maybe not like this exactly— but I never thought… I would ever have a chance.”

“Well, here I am, at your disposal, so please, please.” His eyes flit between your lips and himself, wishing, waiting, hoping, praying to feel the warm, beautiful wetness of your mouth around him. And as if you read his mind, you happily oblige, leaning down under his hiked-up robe to wrap your lips around his head and gently suck. His head flies back in ecstasy, fingers gripping the blanket beneath him to keep himself from tearing your hair out or pushing your head down to make you choke on his cock, as much as he’d love to feel the sensation of the latter.

Small rhythmic bursts of sucking turn into licking him down to his base, tracing a vein or two on your way down, which then turns into lazily dragging your tongue over his balls while your hand makes up for the lack of attention higher up.

“Can I… touch you? Please?” He gives a tug on your shirt. And who are you to say no to Mr. Wonderful, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep? You pull your nighttime shirt over your head slowly, exposing your bare chest to the chilly evening air. 

“Are we… both okay with this? Are we on the same page here? Is this okay with you?” You can’t help but rapid-fire questions at him now that the thought of him being under the ring’s influence has intruded your mind. He shifts his hand to your face, letting his index finger gently rest against your lips.

“This is not just the ring. I… have harbored some feelings to do with you for quite a while now. It’s all just pouring out at once now, but I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life, I can tell you that.” That was all that you needed. That confirmation that he wanted to know what it felt like to sink inside of you as much as you wanted to know what it felt like to have him fill you nearly to the brim.

“Then come here,” you whisper, just barely audible enough that he follows your instructions. His lips crash against yours in a deep kiss, his fingers knotting into your hair to keep you as close to his overheated body as possible. He is desperate, teeth gnashing against yours and capturing your bottom lip at points, saliva mixing and temperatures rising. 

“I don’t know who or what enchanted those rings as such, but I must acquire several more if this is the result; me being at your will… needing,” he pants out, still holding your foreheads together.

“Let’s get through this first, then we’ll see about finding some more aphrodisiac trinkets. Tell me more about your growing need, my dear evocationist?” You lazily slip your leg over his waist and begin grinding yourself down against his exposed length. The pressure combined with the texture of your pants’ fabric puts him in pure ecstasy, obvious by the small whines that leave him and the way his teeth catch his bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to hide them.

“My need for you— it hurts, it burns in my core,” he pushes out like a plea for help. His eyes are glossy, his body vibrating with arousal, pleasure, shock, disbelief… and pure attraction.

“And is that right there good, Gale?”

“Gods, yes, don’t stop unless I get to be inside of you,” he groans, bracing himself against the ground to grind his hips in time with yours just a bit harder, further, more any way that he can.

“Ask and you shall receive.” You push yourself off of him, pulling your slacks and undergarments down to the ground. There’s a moment of low, shallow breathing, where both of your eyes dilate as you simply take in the sight of each other. Pleasuring yourselves, more for the other than yourself, and drinking in the expression on the other’s face. The point was to tease him and see how long he could sit in anticipation, but you find yourself getting impatient enough to forget all of that and pounce on him.

You take hold of him by the base and carefully guide him inside of you. It’s impossible to put the fullness you feel into words, it’s all-consuming, and it sends shivers and shakes through your entire body. In sinking down on him, you feel as if you’d been reunited with your girthier other half— complete. A wonderful pressure begins to bubble up in your abdomen as you begin moving, evident to him by the way your nails dig into his shoulders. His hands have found their place on your hips, and in no time, they’re gripping you half-to-death. He’s using his tight grasp to slam you back down onto him, meeting you in the middle. The symphony of skin against skin was sure to be keeping quite a few of your companions up, but it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. His mouth finds its way to your chest, gently taking a nipple between his teeth and grazing his skillful tongue over it.

His lips make a soft pop as they unlatch from you, and all he can do in this moment of boiling hot lust is prop himself up on his elbows and watch you in all your glory. He gazes up at you with that same half-lidded gaze you saw on him earlier, except there’s a bit of boyish wonder. He’s not just perceiving you, but admiring you. One hand eventually trails its way up your leg to your waist, and he begins to help you come back down on him harder, faster— his twitching legs and quick breaths gave away that he was already getting close from the change in pace.

“Gods, Gale, you’re so good,” you groan as you lean forward, forcing him to sit up a bit to support your head as you rest it on his shoulder. This just gives him more of a chance to fuck up into you like a wild animal, chasing more of your moans and his climax. “Fuck! Gale, please!”

“I love this, I love you, I love the feeling of you, I love it!” His voice goes up and up and up until his high pitched breathy ramble is cut off with one last loud groan. Now it’s your time to admire; eyes screwed shut, forehead scrunched up as his mouth lays open wide. With the show you were getting and the feeling of him filling you with warmth, you were helpless against the waves of your own orgasm crashing into you. You two take a moment, nothing but the sounds of your gasps for air between you, limbs still intertwined and sweat still mingling.

“If all I have to do is ask for this, what do I get if I really beg?” Blabbermouth, indeed. You pull his chin up to give him a sloppy kiss, continuing to hold his face as you pull yourself off of him, making a mess of him as his cum drips out of you.

“Save it for next time, I’ll think of a few things we can try down the road,” you joke with a small chuckle as you allow yourself to fall on your back and reach for your clothing. “How’s everything feeling with, uh… the ring?”

“Yes, yes, that was very beneficial. It was like my body was held in lava, until I felt your touch.” He gazes at the mess you two have made, but makes no moves just yet. He pushes his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, beginning to fall into a daze admiring you as you dress. “Are you going?”

You pause. Are you going? Should you stay? Would that make the journey awkward? What did this mean for you and Gale, that you had slept together to help him out after the being influenced by some magical ring? There was nothing there besides the ring?

Gods damn it all.

“No, no, I just... I used a cloth that was lying around to wipe myself off, it was instinct to get dressed afterwards.” You avoid the question, hoping to take his mind off of your quick separation from him instead of any pillow talk. You fold the cloth you used and hand it over to him, looking away while he cleans himself up as if you didn’t just ride him into next week. “Any way you could conjure a second pillow?”

“Anything you wish, so long as you join me tonight.”

And you do. And many nights after.

#gale dekarios #gale #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale imagine #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale bg3 #bg3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii

[monster-disaster]

Request for a Grotesque? (Gargoyle is the popular name, but not the correct name).

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a lot of your stories, so please forgive me if I’m repetitive with plots you’ve already done.

Can you make him have DILF energy? Not an actual man with kids or an ex, just a man who’s good with kids, and is on the older side of course. I’m in desperate need of a very affectionate and gentle lover who just wants to overwhelmingly dote and take care of his future wifey. Is being someone’s baby girl too much to ask? T^T I can’t really handle super dominant and aggressive lover types. Like being ridiculously sweet, indulgent, intelligent, and manipulative is such a better archetype to get the girl. Bro don’t hit me in the bedroom. I’m delicate and bruise super easily.

Male x Female reader, if that’s not too much to ask :)

Thanks love!

Gods, I really need a boyfriend like that right now. I hope you will like it! :)

gargoyle/grotesque x Reader Warnings: smut

There is a slight pain at the back of your head. It throbs in sync with your pulse, making you scowl at the screen. The document stares back at you with bright, white lights. The long rows of black text become blurry for a second, and you need to close your eyes to stop yourself from tearing up. "Did you drink enough water?"

The sudden voice makes you jump with a startled gasp. In the process, you push yourself away from your desk, and you need to grab onto the wooden edge. Your eyes snap open, staring at the entrance of your office. "Garog," you say his name, watching him approach you. He is still in his work clothes with a paper bag in his hand. The scent of your favorite takeout fills your nostrils when he puts it on the table in favor of focusing on you. "Did you drink enough water?" He asks again, slipping his thick fingers to the back of your neck, drawing small circles on your tense muscles. A relieved breath leaves your lips at the feeling. You hum. "You can't solve everything with water," you tell him. Garog chuckles, reaching into the bag to put a bottle of water in front of you. "Are you sure about it?" "Thank you," you reply, reaching out for the bottle. You know the gargoyle won't leave you alone until you drink at least a few sips. He massages your neck and shoulders the whole time while you do so. "And eat too," he says after a while, stepping away to grab a chair and put it next to you. The thing creaks under his weight. "It's still warm." "I thought you were at home," you tell him while he is busy with the plastic containers. He shrugs. "I was," he says. "Then I called you twice, and when you didn't answer, I thought you had a rough day." "Did you call?" You ask, wanting to reach for your phone, but Gargog stops you with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry." "It's fine, love," he says. "As I said, I knew you had a busy day." Silence settles between you two while you openly stare at him. He is broad with sharp edges and gray sideburns. His nose is crooked, and you can barely see the color of his eyes when he smiles at you. The grayish shade of his skin seems lighter under the office lights. "Do you need anything else?" He asks. "No," you reply, a bit dreamily. "Sometimes I just forget how lucky I am." He grins at you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It's short and chaste. "I am the lucky one."

You could argue with him but decide against it.

For a while, both of you say nothing and just enjoy the calmness of your office while eating. Every bite and sip of water reminds you that eating and drinking weren't in your priorities today.

You glance at Garog from the corner of your eye. Damn, you really are lucky.

"I can throw them out," you tell Garog after your late dinner when he stands up to clean up your desk. "I want to make some coffee anyway." He frowns at you. "You shouldn't drink coffee this late." With a tired sigh, you lean back on your chair, massaging the side of your head in circles. "You still hurt, huh?" He asks, coming back to your side to rake his fingers through your hair. Your eyes fall shut immediately. "It will be fine," you tell him. "It's not that bad anymore, thanks to you." "My poor baby," he coos, and you laugh at his tone. "But lucky you, I know how we can get rid of it." "Water? Sleep?" You guess, still enjoying his caresses with closed eyes. "Those too," Garog agrees with something in his voice that makes you look up at him. He towers over you with wide shoulders and his wings that peek out from behind him. Your fingertips tingle with the urge to touch them. "But later. Now, I have something else in my mind." You know the heated glint in his eyes too well. He doesn't even have to say or do anything, and your body reacts immediately. "Here?" You ask him, shocked. "What if someone comes in?" You glance at the closed door a few meters away. Garog scoffs at your worry, pulling on your chair to separate you from your desk. "Nobody is here anymore, Y/N," he replies. "You are the only one still working." "Oh." He is right. "Do you trust me?" You almost frown, hearing his question. "Of course." "Then let me have my dessert, love." Something warm and giddy lits in your stomach as you laugh. "It was horrible." "It was not," he grins, getting rid of your pants and panties with one swift motion. "Are you really laughing at me?" He asks, amused. "No," you lie. "At least not for long," Garog grins at you wolfishly, settling on his knees between your legs. Whatever you wanted to say a few moments ago is long forgotten.

His hands are firm but gentle on your legs as he slides them up to your inner thighs, opening you up even more in front of his hungry eyes. "You are already wet," he states, running his thumb over your pussy, gathering your slickness on the tip of his finger. Your stomach flutters with excitement and anticipation. The muscles of your thighs almost hurt in the wide spread you keep them to give enough space for the gargoyle. "Garog," you breath out his name, impatient.

Your hectic day and the bright light of your laptop are forgotten. The only thing that still exists in your world right now is Garog, kneeling and leaning closer to your center. His breath fans over your slit, making you clench around nothing. And you don't have to wait for long to feel his tongue swipe over your wetness. "Fuck!" You groan, letting your head fall against the headrest of your chair. Your nails dig into the leather. He grunts something you don't understand, but to be honest, you don't even care. The rumble of his words surges through your body, searing over your nerves and veins. Your back arches when his tongue runs along your slit, flicking your clit repeatedly until you are a panting mess. Your fingers rake through his hair, keeping him against your pussy. "Oh!" Garog's lips close around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth with fever. You feel like a raw nerve, ready to burst. "Don't!' You cry, tightening your hold on his hair when he moves lower to bully your aching hole. "Please!" He hums again in answer, smiling into your pussy for a moment before returning to your clit. Electricity pumps your blood down to your center, and you writhe under him while pleasure builds in your belly. "There!" You mewl into the quiet office, filled with your moans. "Please! Garog!" His tongue rolls around your clit, taking it into his mouth again for a few last sucks to chase you to your orgasm. Your body trembles and shakes. Your hips twitch and push against his warm mouth while he drinks up your juices, humming and groaning with satisfaction. Waves of ecstasy crash through you, and white-hot circles dance in front of your closed eyes. "My girl," Garog hums, petting your thighs. His palms are warm on your skin, massaging your flesh and bringing you back to real life. "Take your time."

When you finally calm down after a few minutes, you feel tired but happy. Your eyelids are heavy, and Garog can't help but smile at your slugged form. "Can you come home with me?" He asks softly, glancing at your laptop. "And maybe we could stay at home tomorrow?" You hum, nodding. "But I need my laptop." "Of course, love," he says. "I put everything away while you get dressed." "I love you," you tell him, and he smiles.

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster smut #sweet asks #terat0philliac #gargoyle x reader #gargoyle x human #monster lover #monster fucker #terato

[murdockparker]

Foolish Endeavor - Part 8

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: To be, or not to be (a Bridgerton), that is the question. One that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton has yet to ask.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of sex, no actual smut, angst

A/N: it's a happy-sad chapter. that's all I gotta say mad lads

first part - previous part - next part

__

She hadn’t felt very well rested, not even the tiniest bit. No matter how tired she felt after last night’s escapades, the excitement that lingered in the air coursed through her veins, keeping her alert and awake for the entirety of the night. He hadn’t kept it much of a secret, not really.

Benedict Bridgerton was proposing. 

Today. 

While he practically proposed last night, bodies tangled together in a sweaty embrace, she knew a more formal question was coming later this morning or afternoon. It was only a matter of time before Benedict asked for her company, asked for her hand. She imagined he already discussed the details of their engagement, dowry and the like with her father before their visit to Aubrey Hall. Seeing as how her father couldn’t accompany them for the week and knowing how formal Benedict could be about situations just as this one.

A soft knock rang through the spacious room, followed by the entrance of Agnes, her lady’s maid. She was carrying a pitcher of fresh water and a rag, smiling lightly at the girl rolling in bed. 

“Good morning, miss,” Agnes said lovingly. She set the pitcher down on the desk, draping the cloth over the back of the chair. “I trust you slept well?”

“Of course,” she lied. “The beds here are divine, I reckon they’re stuffed with only the finest.”

“Oh yes,” Agnes nodded. “I’m sure the viscount has only the best in his home.”

“Did you sleep well, Agnes?”

“I slept just fine, my lady,” the maid said sweetly. “The staff’s lodgings are quite elegant. If I had half a mind, I would mention something to your mother…”

(Y/N) giggled, the sound dampening against the plushness of the bedding. “Consider it done, I’ll bring it up over tea.”

Agnes’ eyes lit up like a candle in the night—bright and ever glowing. She nodded softly before floating over to her lady’s bed to assist in her dressing. “I drew you a bath for this morning, I figured you may wish to take one after the exhausting day that was yesterday.” (Y/N)’s entire face flushed, the color creeping up from her neck. Surely the staff couldn’t have possibly heard anything from the study last eve, could they? “The carriage ride was much too hot for my liking, I myself washed up last evening.”

“Oh,” she coughed, patting her chest lightly. “Yes, I agree. Traveling in the summer months is always a hassle.”

“Should I set out your dressings for when you return, my lady?”

“Of course. That would be lovely.”

“Which one do you fancy for this morning?” Agnes asked, opening the wardrobe, now fitted out with the various silks and outfits they had packed for the week. Her eyes danced across the rainbow of colors before placing her hand on one. “I reckon Mr. Bridgerton will quite like this one."

“Agnes!” (Y/N) chided, suppressing a laugh.

“I’ll set it aside,” the maid hummed knowingly, placing the selected dress on the door to the wardrobe.

—

The dress Agnes had picked out was quite the stunning piece, the fanciest of the day dresses they had packed. The sleeves were almost entirely a thick lace, meeting the crook of her elbow with grace. Colored to match the sky on a summer’s day, the gown had matching white accents one could nearly mistake for clouds, a slightly darker azure pulled everything together on the bodice. It was the epitome of class, the finest handiwork once could find in the ton.

He thought she was breathtaking. 

He normally thought so, of course. This morning, however, she looked nearly as radiant as the sun. His sun. He knew it was going to be a good day, with her smiling as sweetly as she was. He had to restrain himself from reaching into his pocket and falling to his knee immediately, his better judgment getting the best of him. 

“Lady (Y/N),” Benedict greeted her, bowing lightly to appease the other eyes following them in the room. 

“Benedict,” she curtsied back. 

“Might you do me the honor of accompanying me on a promenade this morning?” He asked, brow arched up, his lovesick smirk ever apparent.

“Of course,” she nodded before turning to her side. “Though, we will need to find a chaperone—” 

“I’ll join you.”

“A walk could do me some good.”

Both the countess and dowager viscountess spoke in the same breath, flustered at the sudden attention on themselves. They both seemed too eager to join the happy couple this afternoon, for no reason in particular.

“You are both free to join us,” Benedict nearly laughed. “We are set to promenade around the gardens, I wish to enjoy your lovely flowers, Mother.”

“Oh yes,” (Y/N) nodded enthusiastically. “Lady Bridgerton, your gardens are quite the spectacle.”

Violet waved them off, nearly embarrassed. “Oh you two flatter me so terribly.”

“Oh but I have to agree, Violet. You simply must tell me where you found your florist,” the countess smiled. “Theodore would love the blooms you have out here.”

“Well, I hardly think they’re a secret,” Violet said, voice dropping to a murmur before leaning into the countess’ side. “But I’ll extend their information to you posthaste.”

The women giggled, both taken at the joy of the afternoon—Benedict and (Y/N) still in their own little world.

“Pall-mall is this afternoon,” Benedict said thoughtfully, extending his arm for his beloved to take. “I recall your proficiency at the game, has that changed?”

(Y/N) shook her head, beginning to walk with Benedict towards the gardens, mamas in tow. “No, of course not. If anything I simply have gotten even better than you recall.”

He let out a laugh, warm and thick like honey. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Anthony suggested the match a day or so prior to your arrival, something about fond memories from childhood—” 

“Really? You’re sure he doesn’t wish to try and best his family to look good for his future bride?”

“Ah, the viscount would never dare use his family as a pawn for his marriage,” Benedict said seriously. “But, trying to best Daphne will be his greatest feat.”

“The duchess is joining us?” She asked, allowing Benedict to open the garden gate for her. He hummed.

“She would never dare miss an opportunity to lay claim to her rightful place as the best Bridgerton pall-mall player,” Benedict chuckled. “Well, I suppose she also wished to meet Miss Sharma, should Anthony get off of his sorry behind and actually propose…”

Violet Bridgerton loved her garden in Kent—her and her husband had a rather fondness to the country—leaving her gardens to be quite the sight to behold. The young couple spent many a day in the gardens in their youth, playing and chasing the other around. Last year, Anthony had commissioned a small fountain to be added for their mother's birthday, it was the new jewel of the grounds. 

It was the perfect place, Benedict had decided.

“Why do you think our mamas are following us so closely?” (Y/N) asked quietly, tightening her grip on Benedict’s arm.

“They’re pretending to be interested in the roses,” Benedict whispered, turning to look back at his mother and the countess. The women seemed flushed, their attention drawn a bit too closely at the blooms. “But I believe they’re waiting with bated breath for something extraordinary to happen."

“And what, pray tell, would they be waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?” Her heart began to pound, surely the small babbling of the fountain did nothing to hide it.

A grin spread across his face, one that was lopsided and all-too-sweet, his gaze warm enough to set aflame. “Perhaps they’re waiting for…this?” He removed his arm from (Y/N)’s grip, slinking down to one knee. Benedict thanked any God who would listen he had the bright idea to practice the gesture before this moment, as it hopefully looked as graceful as it felt. With only a slightly shaking hand, he took her own.    

“Oh!” Lady Kent squealed from behind. Lady Bridgerton was quick to pull her close—as if to not ruin the moment. 

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have been a constant at my side. Your friendship has been a balm on my worried heart for the many years I have had the pleasure of knowing you,” Benedict began, trying to keep his voice steady. “How lucky am I, to have found such a partner in my greatest friend? How lucky would I be, if that partner agreed to spend the rest of her days with me?”

“Benedict…” She had begun to cry. She had known he was proposing today, and yet, she still begun to cry.

“(Y/N),” Benedict repeated her name like a prayer, “will you do me the honor of making me half of the happiest pair the universe has ever seen? Will you marry me?”

A box suddenly appeared in his other hand, a glittering ring shining in the morning sun. It surely wasn’t a family ring, no, it looked to be brand new, like he had it made especially for her. Benedict had asked Lady Bridgerton about family rings but never quite found one that spoke to him—so he took matters into his own hands. 

A delicate cluster of pearls with shining sapphires, all adorned like a flower in bloom. He had been torn on the sapphires, but secretly, a part of him wished for her to have the staple Bridgerton color, blue, with her always. A small claim, a slightly possessive way for him to show she is his at all times. 

If she didn’t already have her answer before this moment, seeing Benedict on the ground, bearing his heart out to her in front of a beautiful scene—and their mamas—it couldn’t have come any easier. 

“Yes!” She squealed, falling to the ground to meet Benedict in an amorous embrace—dress be damned, society be damned.

He nearly fell over, arm steadily snaking its way around her waist, holding her tight against him. He knew he was close to tears, but seeing his love on the same precipice nearly sent him over the edge. “If our mamas weren’t looking…” Benedict whispered into her ear, holding her tight against him, his words a secret to her alone. 

“I simply don’t care,” (Y/N) murmured, turning his face towards her own, lips nearly attacking his. What started as a passionate celebration had melted into something more substantial—a far cry from any other kiss they had shared before. This was not just a kiss from a friend, a kiss from a lover, no, this was a kiss between a husband and wife. The passion was not lost on them, but it took perhaps a second too long to fully realize that their mothers were still very much watching.

“Ehem!” Lady Kent cleared her throat, cheeks rosy as the blooms beside her.

“Relax Mama,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling herself to her feet, assisting Benedict to reaching his own as well. “What is the worst thing to happen? Force us to marry faster?”

“I rather like the sound of that,” Benedict murmured, dusting off his pants. 

“Er, no, I suppose there’s nothing—” Lady Kent sighed, turning to Violet. “Should we petition for a speedy ceremony?”

“Oh hush,” Violet admonished, laughing lightly. “One kiss between betrothed is not a ruin. However,” she looked at the newly affianced couple with a narrow gaze, the one of a strict mother, “I would not make it a habit until you are wed.”

“Of course, Mother,” Benedict nodded, trying his very best to not laugh out loud. 

“My lady,” a butler had come up from behind the proud mothers. “The duchess has arrived.”

“Oh! Splendid,” Violet cooed. “Benedict, do see to it that you and your fiancée greet your sister, I am sure she would be most pleased at your news.”

“We shall inform the family before pall-mall,” Benedict said decidedly. “Just another reason to celebrate.”

“Just think,” Lady Kent sighed, turning to walk with Lady Bridgerton back to the estate. “By the end of the week you will have two sons set to be wed! A joyous celebration indeed.”

“If Anthony is truly engaged at the end of the week,” Benedict said quietly, words only meant for his fiancée to hear, “then the world has turned upside down.”

They both laughed. 

—

“Is Anthony still attached to the black mallet?” (Y/N) asked, arm in arm with her new fiancé. “I recall a near bloodbath for it the last time I played pall-mall with your family.”

“Far more than one would realize,” Benedict nodded. “One would suspect he carried and birthed the bloody thing…”

“Funny,” (Y/N) said. “He birthed the mallet? Here I thought he still had a stick up his—”

“(Y/N)!”

“What? I will not apologize for saying what I was thinking—and if I knew any better, you were too.”

“He’s been… a bit un-agreeable the last few weeks, regarding the whole notion of Miss Sharma and whatnot,” Benedict sighed.

“So you do not disagree.”

“He is my brother,” Benedict stated.

“Indeed,” (Y/N) hummed.

Even having descended these steps only two hours prior to their inevitable engagement, the yard had completely transformed. Shade and snacks had been put up for the spectators, hoops were currently being put in the ground and staff were carrying out the dreaded mallet container.

“What a lovely afternoon for pall-mall,” Lady Mary said.

“And a lovely afternoon to celebrate an engagement,” Lady Bridgerton added, looking directly at the happy couple. 

“Oh yes,” Lady Mary smiled. “Congratulations on the engagement, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Kent.”

“Save your congratulations for the ball in the next few days,” Lady Kent laughed. “I suspect it will be the talk of the ton anyhow.”

The older ladies laughed with one another. The younger adults began their trek to the mallet box, determination in each of their eyes. 

“Eloise, are you sure you do not wish to play?” Colin asked, turning to his younger sister.

“I have other matters to deal with,” she said sitting from the steps, nose in her book. “Besides, someone had to sit out so our guests could play…”

“I could have sat out—” Colin began.

“And the sky is green, Brother,” Benedict said, clapping his younger brother’s back. “Everyone knows you would’ve been a worse spoilsport if you sat out instead.”

“Perhaps Lady (Y/N) could have sat out, then?”

“You’d make my fiancée sit out?” Benedict gasped, clearly jesting. “She is to be your sister soon, Colin. It’s preposterous that you would even suggest such a thing!”

“Ben,” (Y/N) giggled, hand placed gently on his shoulder. “I do not think Colin truly meant it.”

“Congratulations, again,” Colin nodded towards the to-be-Bridgerton. “Why you wish to marry into this family is beyond me.”

“I fear I am still asking myself such a question,” she hummed, plainly ignoring Benedict’s souring expression. “But I am sure I’ll be reminded during our spirited game of pall-mall.”

“Reminded of what?” Daphne asked, walking with the Sharma sisters. She had been explaining the game in earnest to them.

“How much fun our family has playing a rousing game of pall-mall,” Colin said, shit-eating grin on his face. Anthony tried his best to ignore it, taking his attentions to Miss Sharma—the younger, not the elder.

“Shall we begin?” Anthony coughed, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“I shall pick first,” Colin said, reaching for the black mallet.

“No!” Anthony practically yelled, causing a shock to the group. “I-I mean, we pick based on alphabetical order.”

“So, by Bridgerton standards, eldest to youngest?” (Y/N) mused. Benedict huffed a laugh as his brothers began to fight.

“The only fair thing to do,” Daphne spoke up, ever the voice of reason, “is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first.”

“Please, take your pick, Miss Edwina,” Anthony conceded, bowing to the younger Sharma. Edwina looked carefully over the mallets, eyes scanning over every color—almost as if she was afraid to pick the wrong one. She pointed decidedly to the blue one, Anthony grabbing it for her with haste. “An excellent choice.”

Kate wasted no time in choosing her mallet—black and foreboding. The mallet of death. 

“Would you look at that, Brother?” Benedict sniggered, clearly amused by Anthony’s annoyance. 

“Is this yours?” Kate asked. 

“Not at all. You’re welcome to it,” Anthony sighed.

“You near threatened to beat me the last time I touched—”

“You exaggerate,” Anthony fumed, eyes like daggers towards Colin.

“Are you the superstitious sort, Lord Bridgerton?” Kate asked, twirling the mallet like a prized trophy. “I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket.”

“Oh I like her,” (Y/N) said softly, her words nearly lost amongst the guffaw of the Bridgerton family.

“I can play perfectly well with any mallet,” Anthony said.

“My sun, I do believe it is your pick,” Benedict said, clearing the laugh from his throat. She nodded, taking her claim on the lavender mallet. It seemed the most appealing and an easy color to spot from the grass. “Lavender is a fine color for you.”

“Shall we dilly dawdle all afternoon?” Colin sighed. “Or shall we…” 

It was like a hunt. Each of the playing Bridgertons tried to stake their claim on a mallet, all avoiding one in particular. Benedict grabbed a golden yellow, Colin choose green, Daphne a nice seafoam color, leaving Anthony with the pastel pink. 

“To the field of combat!” Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet straight up in the air. 

Combat was an accurate descriptor. While it had been years since she had played pall-mall, even longer since she had played it with the Bridgertons, Lady (Y/N) found it refreshing. It nearly made her wonder if this could have been her life growing up—a lively life with siblings to bicker with and pick on. 

Regardless, it will be her life now, as soon as she marries Benedict. Soon she’d be a Bridgerton. Soon she’d have the family she’d always dreamt of. Siblings, children, the whole lot.

“I say, that was a good shot Lady (Y/N)!” Colin cheered, clapping politely at her latest hit. She had managed to knock Daphne’s ball near a cluster of bushes. “Always a win in my book to best Daph.”

“Oh hush,” Daphne rolled her eyes. “It was a bold move, I will concede to that, well done (Y/N).”

“Dropping her title, are we?” Benedict asked, stepping beside his sister. “You of all people know better etiquette, Your Grace.”

“And what is better etiquette than calling my newest sister by her given name?” Daphne sang, hopping along to her ball. She may be married and a new mother with one on the way, but she still was very much a girl at heart. 

“I truly don’t mind, Benedict,” (Y/N) insisted. “It won’t matter in a few weeks, anyhow.”

“Perhaps you won’t mind this, then?” Colin said. In a blink of an eye, her purple ball went flying towards Daphne’s. 

“Not at all, Colin,” (Y/N) curtsied. “You only made the game more fun, I would have been crestfallen if you were taking it easy on me.”

“Never,” he scoffed. 

“Exactly right,” (Y/N) said, following Daphne over to her ball.

“I’m happy for you. She’s a catch, Ben,” Anthony said, pulling his younger brother out of his love-sick daze. Benedict nodded, not fully listening. “Everyone suspected it to happen, since we were young.”

“I wish someone would have told me sooner,” Benedict jested, “it would have saved us both some time, I manage.”

“I believe Father had made a joke about it once before,” Anthony said. “But, I assume your head was too stuck in the clouds to hear it.”

“Father did, truly?” Benedict’s brow raised. “He was rather observant, I suppose I do not doubt it.”

“You know, I must hand it to you, Brother,” Colin said, cutting in with his brothers. “Courting Lady (Y/N) was a feat I’m surprised you pulled off.”

“Do you not think we are a suited match?” Benedict asked. “Am I not charming enough? Not handsome enough?”

“You are a Bridgerton, of course you are enough,” Colin said.

“I think he means he is just surprised you managed to snag the daughter of an earl,” Anthony said simply. “You are a second son, it is nearly unheard of.”

“She is more than that—”  

“Of course she is,” Anthony said, raising his hand in defense, the other on his pink mallet. “She is your greatest friend and soon to be your wife—of course she is more than just the earl’s daughter.”

“She is my sun,” Benedict said simply. 

Anthony and Colin gave each other a look. “Ever the poet,” Colin chuckled. “You could have stopped at ‘she’s more than that’.”

She had been trying to strategize how best to get her purple ball back to the next wicket. Colin had sent it rather far from the next target, but it was no matter. She was determined to get it back into play—to show the Bridgertons she could roll with the punches. A small wave was sent her direction, one attached to a rather love-sick man, tall and handsome with a wicked grin. 

She waved back, an equally lovesick smile on her lips. 

“How fortunate,” Anthony noted. “Now your son will inherit the earldom, yes?”

“I…” Benedict’s regard turned back to his brother. How easily he was distracted by Lady (Y/N). “Yes, I suppose that is what’s expected of our union, what her parents expect of us.”

“Just think,” Colin said boisterously, “two titles in one family!”

“A viscount and an earl, both Bridgertons,” Anthony cooed, much like a child. “Well done brother! What a success for our family—Father would be proud.”

“I understand the sudden interest in Lady (Y/N) now, Brother,” Colin said, balancing on his mallet. “It rather makes sense, does it not?” 

“I think Father would be more proud that I am marrying for love,” Benedict corrected, growing a bit annoyed at his brothers jesting. 

“Love? Oh yes,” Anthony waved. “Sure, sure. But the earldom? How lucky you’ve bagged her, Brother. Bridgerton, Earl of Kent!”

Benedict forced a laugh. 

“Well, that is not—” 

A purple ball rolled next to his feet, stopping just before his toes. 

She had looked like she had seen a ghost, Lady (Y/N). Her grip tightened on her mallet, white gloves contrast to the purple. “I think I shall cut out for the day.”

The Bridgerton brothers were silent, Benedict inching towards her.

“(Y/N)—”

“I am in need of a respite,” she said, not looking back. “Too much sun.”

Benedict felt his blood run cold, his hand glued to the air. Every sense of his was fleeting, his sight blurring, his mouth running dry. 

“You dolt,” Daphne admonished, smacking her second eldest brother as she came upon them. “You must talk to her.”

“I-I will,” Benedict nodded, not knowing what else to do.

“Well not now,” Daphne sighed. “Give her a moment to collect her thoughts. A conversation now could be… explosive.”

“Is the game finished, my lord?” Edwina pranced over, brows furrowed.

“Ah, yes,” Anthony cleared his throat. “Well, no. Lady (Y/N) and Benedict have cut out, isn’t that right?”

Benedict nodded numbly, dropping his mallet to the grass.

“The game is still set—minus yellow and purple,” Anthony said stoically, rightfully ignoring his brother heading towards the estate. 

Feet like lead, every step he took felt like a death sentence, a man on his way to execution.

Somehow, he much preferred that thought.

__

He knocked at her door, three hours later. 

For two hours he sobbed and for an hour he drank, trying to wrap his head around how he’d approach this, how he’d approach her. He had pressed a wet rag to his face. Helps with the puffiness, a staff member told him. He hoped for it to be true. 

He knocked again.

“Go away.”

Benedict sighed, leaning up against the wood. “I’m afraid that’s unlikely. We must speak.”

“I am not opening the door.”

“And I am not leaving.”

A pause. 

Then, the lock clicked. 

The man took a deep breath, preparing for every possible outcome. He was never much of a planner, but in this very instance? He wish he had clairvoyance, a crystal ball perhaps, to see how this would end. Benedict could only hope it ended with them at the end of the aisle, hand in hand at the altar. 

“You would have stayed out there all night,” she said simply as he entered the room. She had resigned herself to standing in the dead center of the bedchambers, her arms crossed.

“Yes,” Benedict said. “I would have.”

“Stubborn,” she scoffed, turning towards the window. 

He took the moment to shut the door—they were engaged, no need for propriety now. “We are expected at dinner this evening,” Benedict said quietly. “To celebrate the engagement.”

“Naturally.”

“You do not wish to go to dinner,” Benedict surmised.

“Naturally,” she repeated, her shoulders tensing.

“You must eat—” 

“I would rather starve.”

“That is a bit ridiculous,” Benedict scoffed. “Surely you are not that angry.”

“You do not get to tell me how angry I am allowed to be,” (Y/N) said, finally turning around. “If I do not wish to show face at dinner, I will not show face.”

Benedict’s gaze softened on her, finally seeing her face. He would never assume anything about her, it would make for a terrible habit for the years to come, but if he had to make an educated guess, she had been crying just as much as he had.

He wished he had a rag to offer.

“I apologize—”

“For which instance?” (Y/N) asked cooly. “For earlier? For dictating my feelings?”

“The first—both, I suppose,” Benedict ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps he was losing strands from the stress. “Look, (Y/N)—” 

“Do you take me for a fool?”

“What?”

“You have known me for many years,” (Y/N) said. “Do you take me for a fool?”

He had the fleeting thought of mentioning how poorly she played cards, how foolish her tactics were. The only time he’d ever call her a fool. He decided he’d be more the fool if he so much as loosened his lips on that thought. “No.”

“I do not need you to explain yourself, you and your brothers made it quite clear this afternoon,” (Y/N) tightened her arms, nearly folding in on herself. “Quite clear on your true intentions with the earldom.”

“My true intentions? My only intention is and ever was to marry you. Absolutely none of this came from the title.”

“Is that why you suddenly had an interest in me? To secure another title of nobility for your family’s lineage?”

“Of course not! I have loved you since I knew what love truly was, (Y/N). It did not happen overnight.”

Frustrated, she began to pace about the room, fire crackling nearly in time with her beating heart. The air was tense, thick. Shadows begun dancing from the flames, painting themselves onto the bookshelves with ease and without hesitation. Their furrowed brows were prominent against the flickering, set in stone. 

“‘Did not happen overnight’,” (Y/N) scoffed. “You had the opportunity when I debuted seasons ago, why now? Why not then?”

“I was fooling myself,” Benedict pressed a hand against his chest. “I know how this may look, my sun—”

“You,” she cut him off, eyes hardened. “Do not get to call me that. Not right now.”

Benedict took a step back. She was dead serious. He could only recall one other time in their lives that she had such a ferocity to her character—it had involved her father discarding a handful of books from her own personal collection, resulting in her not speaking to him for the better part of a month. If he thought her looks could kill then, Benedict Bridgerton was expecting to have his funeral by the end of the night.

“You misunderstand,” Benedict began carefully, as if to not break any eggshells. “My brothers—you know how they are. Anthony was merely making a joke.”

“It was in poor taste.”

“I agree!” Benedict exclaimed. “My laughter then, it was one of the forced kind, one I save only for the deeply unpleasant conversations I tend to have during the season.”

She stood silent for a moment.

“Yet you laughed."

“I… did. My su—love, I apologize from the deepest parts of me. I wish to marry you, earldom or not. Titles mean nothing, but you? Darling, you mean everything to me."

“So it was just a coincidence that you decided to show up at my door the morning after I shared the truth of my family’s wishes for my future match? Surely you do not take me for a fool.”

Benedict sighed, feeling the anger bubbling in his chest. “While you may have shared that information, the only thing I could even begin to think about since you had left that afternoon was that I had a chance!”

She blinked. 

“Imagine, loving your best friend, watching her and admiring her from afar, knowing she’s destined to be with and marry another. Marry some… some duke or titled man, someone every mama would be floored to have pair with their daughter,” Benedict felt as if he were on stage, his only audience watching him intently. “But to fathom you’d ever marry me? A second son? Surely you could consider me mad for ever entertaining that, for even ever dreaming of it.”

“You have no idea the type of man I wished to have married,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooler than ice. Calculated, perhaps. “Had you been honest from the start—”

“And ruin our friendship?” Benedict laughed, no humor found in his voice. “Lose you? The greatest thing to come of my time on this planet? No. Perish the thought.”

“You’re a fine actor,” (Y/N) said slowly, trying to keep her composure. “Because from the way I see it? You found a way to ensure a new title for the Bridgerton name—woo your ‘greatest friend’ and effectively ruin her by taking her on your brother’s desk!”

“Do not make it seem like you had no say in the matter—”

“I loved you!” (Y/N) screamed, finally reaching her breaking point. “I thought you would be the man I would marry! I wanted you, Benedict, more than I ever wanted anyone.”

“Loved…?” Benedict felt smaller than dirt. “You do not mean—”

“I will still marry you,” (Y/N) continued. “Only because you have effectively trapped me—what if I am to be with child?” She nearly laughed at the absurdity. “Seeing as you had the grace to not only ruin me, but finish in me—”

“Is that what you think?” Benedict broke, his voice quavering. “You think that I tried to trap you into a marriage to ensure my family a new title? That I had the thought—the foresight—to try and make you with child to give you no other options? In no way you could think so little of me—”   

“And yet here we are,” her voice was like venom. "Perhaps you will have your Bridgerton earl after all."

He dared not speak a word.

“I need some time to think. Mother and I are going back to Mayfair—do not follow us.” (Y/N) left the room, slamming the door so hard one might have assumed it cracked. 

Much like his heart.

__

TAGLIST

@nikkisilassheep, @cavghtbythewind, @chaotic-onigiri, @440mxs-wife , @mymyma , @perdynerd , @wotcherboo , @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake , @babyhoneystvles , @korol-lantsov , @riddlerloveb0t 

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #reader insert #oops has it been 10 months since i updated this story last? uh oh #and oops! angst! #sowwy sowwy

[cherryredstars]

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!artist!reader

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: The beauty in art. 

A/N: Based on this request.

Word Count: 1.2K (Unedited)

He was more than just displeased. 

He was tired and aching, muscles sore from a long day. The ache became more prominent as he was forced to hold his ridiculous pose. But no matter how much he huffed and puffed, he would hold it until you gave the okay for him to move. He guessed it wasn’t so bad. From here, he could see your side profile. Could see the lidded look in your eyes as you sketched onto your canvas, mouth slightly parted. Your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully as you blinked, the dying sunlight illuminating your small art room and making your eyes glisten and hair shiny. You could produce beautiful art, but Miguel would never find anything more beautiful than you in the process. 

Another one of his huffs caught your attention, and you turned to him with a smile and laughter in your voice. “Miguel, I told you it would take a while. Stop complaining!”

He glared at you teasingly, shifting again but stopping when you glared back, “Can’t we just continue again tomorrow? I’m tired.”

Sympathy filled your eyes and you gave him another small smile, “I’m almost done. A few more minutes, I promise.” 

Miguel sighed, staying in his position obediently. True to your word, you sketched a few more lines onto the canvas before thanking him. His muscles relaxed instantly, going to leave your art room to go to bed, but was stopped at the door when you gave him a quick kiss to his lips and thanked him again. He hummed against your lips, his body sagging as he told you not to stay up too late working. You gave him a dismissive wave of your hand and he went to bed. 

____________________________________

For the next few weeks, every second of Miguel’s free time at home was spent in your art studio. You had insisted. Something about the handiness of having a live model to reference when it came to shadows and lighting and everything and anything under the sun. It was definitely better than posing, seeing as he was allowed to just lounge on your studio couch and do whatever he needed to do. It did get annoying every now and then when he had something important to work on, forcing him to carry things from his home office into your studio and then back out at the end of the session. But it brought a smile to his face every time he complained and you whined, “Please? I just want to spend time with you too. I like spending time with you.”

He likes spending time with you too. 

Today was one of the rare days where Miguel didn’t have anything to work on. He simply laid on the couch, watching you work. Your brush was feather light on the canvas, picking into a pile of paint and transferring the coloring onto your work. Every now and then you would clean off your brush, a soft ringing filling the room as the brush handle knocked into the glass of water. The peacefulness made him sleepy, and he picked at a loose thread in your couch pillows. 

“How come you won’t let me look at the painting? Is it bad?” He asked, the last bit covered in teasing. 

You smiled at the canvas, eyes briefly flicking to him before you continued working. “The process of every painting is ugly. That’s why we say ‘Trust the process’.”

Miguel snorted at your answer, clearly dissatisfied. It made you laugh and you shook your head as you decided that you were done for the night. Maybe a day and a half more of working and you would be done officially. Your eyes flicker over to the calendar you keep on the wall. Perfect.

You walk over to Miguel helping him off the couch and guiding him out of your studio so the two of you can start on dinner before going to bed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

________________________________________

It’s snowing, Miguel realizes as he sits in the living room. He can see it behind the tree you have put up, fuzzy white dots falling from the sky. The air smells like your cooking, warm spices filling the house. He can hear you approaching from behind him, and he doesn’t even flinch when your hands suddenly fall to his shoulders.

Your hands massage the muscle absentmindedly, following his gaze outside of the window. “It’s snowing,” You point out, and he hums and repeats it back to you. 

You seem to light up as you stare at it, squeezing his shoulders one last time before approaching the tree. Miguel watches you silently, brow raised in question as you grab one from the back. You check the tag on it to make sure it’s the right one, before walking back over to Miguel. You perch yourself onto his lap, handing him the present.

His arms wrap around your body, holding the wrapped gift in his hands before the two of you. He squeezes you in his arms, shaking the present slightly, before you place our hand over his to stop him. 

“Gifts are supposed to be after dinner, hun.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know. But I think now is the perfect time for you to open it.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, smiling as he carefully uses a claw to cut through the tap and unfold the decorative paper. From how he opened it, he’s first revealed to the back of a canvas. On the back is your signature and the date, and his fingers trace over it before he slips it over. His breath gets caught in his throat as he stares.

It’s the painting of him that you were working on. He’s in your art room, glowing white highlighting his frame as he lays there. His face is towards the window, where snow is falling. His eyes are shiny, and the smallest smile graces his lips. He traces over each detail with his hand, smiling down at it. 

“You like it?” You ask him, your hands playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. 

He nods, turning to you and leaning up for a kiss that you gladly return. You’re smiling against his lips, and you kiss the crown of his head when you pull away. Miguel nuzzles into your neck, setting the painting down on the coffee table so he doesn’t break it when he traps you into the couch. You laugh as you fall, Miguel laying on top of you and planting kisses up and down your neck. 

“I love it, thank you.” He whispers into your skin. But then, he’s pinching your sides as he gives you a small glare. “But don’t think I didn’t notice you made me do that stupid pose for nothing!”

You burst out laughing, shoulders shaking as you throw your head back over the arm of the couch. “It wasn’t for nothing! I’ll have you know it was a great inspiration. Kept me very motivated.” 

Miguel raises a brow, a large smile on his face. “Great inspiration was it?”

You nod, smile growing bigger as you agree, “The biggest.”

Miguel hums, nodding his head before he’s tickling your sides until you can't breathe. 

“Inspirational my ass!”

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x you #cherry's specials!🍒 #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

[yveaart]

╰(✿˙ᗜ˙)੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Umm ignore this if you can’t do it but, since it’s my bday soon (March 29) and I loveee seungcheol…

Can you do a seungcheol x reader but it’s her birthday! It could be either things he does or a short story..?

ANYTHING YOU WANT!! GO CRAZY!!

happy birthday to u <3 i hope u like itt

kiss me — csc

you never bothered to celebrate your birthday, it just always felt like any other day. as a kid you got your hopes up feeding yourself some extravagant imaginations of how it will go every year, but every year you get disappointed like always.

you stopped expecting, just trying to live by. birthdays were more like a remembrance of you losing your childhood self.

it was your first year dating with cheol and you weren’t sure if he knew, maybe it was for the better, he wouldn’t have to cater you everything you wanted or you would feel bad.

it seems like he didn’t know at all, from the way he looked at you from talking to you, it was like any other day, but you were comforted that he didn’t change one bit the longer you were together

“baby, i’m sorry to ask you for this but can you buy some food for kkuma, i think we’re out” he asked you with a pout

“of course, i’ll go get some with treats as well” you smiled at him as you tried to find your coat and keys

“i’m sorry baby” he said as his pout was even noticeable

“don’t be sorry love, i know you would do it if you could. it’s my time to help you as well” you smiled at him

you walked towards him by the kitchen as his body slowly stiffened, poor cheol maybe he was tired from practice. when you successfully wore your coat you gave him a small peck on the lips as his lips quickly turned into a smile.

“i’ll be back in an hour” you announced to him, kkuma’s food shop was a bit of a long drive, but you didn’t mind. you liked carrying responsibilities alongside cheol.

what you didn’t expect is cheol to be hiding your birthday cake behind him as well as kkuma’s food, he had to get you outside of the house so he could get your friends help him decorate around the house.

he was cooking, cleaning, packing your gifts like a madman. one hour was enough, one hour is perfect.

it was just enough time to send the members out of the house, and him to clean himself up as well.

it was about time you arrived, as your keys made noises between the locks of your home.

carrying some lightly heavy bags for kkuma’s food, you didn’t want to ask for coups to help since he has done enough for you, and he might be resting for the week as well.

as your foot stood on the door way, your nose has whiffed a good scent of all your favorite dishes.

“baby?” you said as you put down your coat and keys looking around for your lovely boyfriend.

“cheollie?” you moved around the apartment confused.

warm hands suddenly covered your eyes as a soft peck went on your neck

“what is this?” you giggled turning around to look at cheol with a ribbon tied on top of his head.

“well… i was hoping i could spend your birthday with you” he grinned widely, he stole the grocery bag from your hands and left it somewhere around the kitchen.

“i cooked you your favorite dishes, and baked a cake, and designed our home” he looked at you with a look finding for a sense of approval

cheol never cooked, ever since he put salt on your brownies instead of sugar, somehow broke a pan in half, and creating a soup version of chappagetti— all unintentional of course

the taste of the food was the last thing on your mind though. he must’ve spent so much time learning how to make it. your eyes going teary once you saw how the place was decorated beautifully for you

the walls filled with so much polaroid pictures of you and cheol. some white balloons draping the ceiling with its pure color. your favorite scents circulating the air from candles you wished to buy.

and you couldn’t ignore the tall tower of poorly-wrapped gifts which made you giggle. you were too busy thinking about all the effort it took to hide it from you, and build this all up today.

“i-thank you love, you didn’t have to” you said running to cheol’s arms as you hid your face by his chest, muffling the sounds escaping your mouth.

“but i wanted to, you deserve it and so much more” he whispered on your ear as he wrapped his arms around yours as well.

“i reserved a yacht for us to stargaze later at night” he giggled at you knowing how you would find it absurd

“a yacht?! just because i like stargazing??” you said in disbelief

“thank you, really. for doing all of this” you said as you faced him while still hugging him

your lips came to peck cheol on his nose, all you could do was smile with him. you didn’t need all of this, maybe all you needed was the man within your arms.

“ooh, a ribbon on you as well? maybe the biggest gift i got ever”

“it is mandatory to open this gift first after you blow the candles”

“the cake can wish on its own, i want you more” you smiled as you pulled the ribbon on his head not expecting him to remove the sweater he was wearing

“oh my god cheol what are you wearing?!”

well cheol was grinning as he acclaimed that he was wearing his favorite t-shirt with the print i <3 my girlfriend with your face on it.

“kiss me, my love”

#seventeen fluff #svt imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt oneshot #svt fic #svt fanfic #choi seuncheol #scoups #svt scoups #scoups svt #scoups fic #scoups x you #scoups scenarios #seventeen scoups #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #svt fics #svt x reader #svt x you

[eviesaurusrex]

ɢʀɪᴇꜰ | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: In the wake of his own capture, his queen was imprisoned too.

word count: 971

warnings: angst, seriously, this is angsty, blood, Morpheus wants to burn the Waking World to ashes

author’s note: My first Morpheus work, and we’re directly starting with something short and angsty xD I’m so unhappy with how this turned out, but I’m pushing myself to upload these types of works anyway because I’m my biggest critic and all that. Plus, I’m shitty at writing pure angst. But we’ll deal with this for now before we’re gonna turn to the fluffy part of writing for this god of a man <3

»part 2? part 2.«

;

His eyes were trained on the woman lying next to him on the solid, cold ground. His hand outstretched, his fingers twitching desperately in order to reach her. Only mere inches parted them, but the existence of the laughable distance was mocking him in its impossibility to overcome. Not in his current state.

Dry lips moved slowly, forming words without letting a single sound escape; the agony too consuming to mutter a single syllable. Morpheus was not even convinced she could hear him if he would succeed in calling her name, trying to nudge her mind back into consciousness with the power of his voice. A helpless sound was the only audible thing escaping his parted lips.

And then, abnormal darkness engulfed him once more.

—

His returning consciousness let him move his hand again, but instead of finally palpating the silk-like skin of his wife underneath his fingertips, the Lord of Dreams touched icy cold glass. Unsteadily, he opened his distinct blue eyes, which once held the entire universe in them, but now only pictured the void of a pitch-black night sky. He felt so heavy, his mind slow, his body not responding the way it was supposed to. The loss of his powers was something he almost missed because his tired eyes suddenly rested on red droplets scattering the dirty stone floor.

With a silent groan, Morpheus pushed himself up on his bare knees, blinking rapidly to sharpen his eyesight in the dimly lit basement. Suddenly, he wished he had not done it as every single ounce of air was pushed out of his lungs as if he had fallen from a high looming tower and crashed onto the ground. He felt as if he would suffocate in a matter of fleeting moments; his eyes trained motionless on the pool of blood surrounding a body he knew better than his own.

YN’s eyes blinked slowly, her chest rose barely perceptible for a human’s eye, the fingertips of her outstretched arm trying to find a hold of this realm. Morpheus knew she made an effort to anchor herself so Death could come and bring her back into the Dreaming before every ounce of life had left her body. But he could feel with every agonizing piece of his soul how life slowly faded out of her bright shining eyes, forever reminding him of Fiddler’s Green and every single vegetation that grew in their realm. His heart ached heavily in his chest, tears blurring his sight, and both hands were pressed onto the glass, trying to push through it to get to her, to protect her just as she obviously had done for him.

“YN.” His voice broke in the middle of her name, unable to speak it out, to taste every syllable of it on his lips, letting it flood his mind to ease a pain he had never experienced, never had suffered before. The salty lakes his eyes had turned into overflowed, and still, he didn’t dare to move his gaze from her, not even as his capturer stepped into her blood. Raging fury and hatred burned his insides as the human closed his hands around her throat and neck to lift her off the ground, pressing her body onto the sphere, facing lover to lover. Her eyes, which tended to change their colors frequently, stared dull and lifeless into his own, and despite her dying state, YN managed to grant him the sight of the attempt of one of her beautiful smiles, which always illuminated his life and the Dreaming, bringing comfort and joy.

“Poor little thing. You see, she tried to save you, and I cannot let that happen. So… Her pitiful death is practically your wrongdoing.” Morpheus almost did not listen to the echoing voice, instead holding the last remnants of her gaze captured in his, salty crystals flowing over both faces, connecting them in their pain and loss though separated by sorcery. Her lips gently moved, only visible to his eyes, and he started to make out her words as her eyes lost the last specks of life and her body went limp. The man only let her drop to the floor, where she landed in her own blood, shedded in her attempts to protect him as they had promised one another on the night of their wedding under the darkest but most ethereal firmament ever seen by the eyes of humans, deities, and endless.

With burning rage in his now flaming blue irises filled with a darkening void that swallowed every other emotion in its wake, the Lord of Dreams slowly stared up at his jailer, his heart only knowing hatred anymore. He wanted to see this world burn, but in particular, he craved to see this human burn—the one who had robbed him of his wife and queen, the love of his existence. He wanted to hear him beg for mercy. He wanted to listen to his piercing screams filled with agony, and he would not even stop when he was certain the man had learned his lesson before ending his life with his own bare hands. Morpheus would relish in the afterglow of his glorious vengeance before turning his gaze to the rest of this degenerated order to end every single life himself.

And maybe, after the last scream had faded, he would be satisfied to finally mourn the only woman he had ever wanted.

His gaze settled back onto her body after their capturer left him with her; tears continuing to cover his skin and drowning his soul in anguish and torment which didn’t leave him—

Not even after a century of imprisonment and her gentle voice wandering through his mind, repeating her last words to him over and over.

I will find you in my next existence, my love.

;

I kinda don’t like it, but hey, it’s my first time writing for my baby, so that’s okay. Hope y’all enjoyed it anyway. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus x y/n #lord dream x reader #lord dream x fem!reader #lord dream x y/n #lord morpheus x reader #lord morpheus x fem!reader #lord morpheus x y/n #dream x y/n #dream x reader #dream x fem!reader #lord morpheus #morpheus angst #dream angst #lord dream angst #lord morpheus angst #dream of the endless #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x y/n #morpheus imagine #lord dream imagine #dream of the endless angst

[traveler-at-heart]

Painting

Request by @deadlynightshade418 - hope you like it!! 

Summary: Convincing Natasha to paint with you

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant!Reader

Blue, green, yellow.

How lovely yellow is. It stands for the sun.

And that, as Van Gogh said so accurately, was what you were painting in what would soon be the baby’s room.

“Here comes the sun, it’s alright” you were humming softly, as you dipped the brush in the paint.

It was a warm summer day, and you were wearing denim shorts and a tank top, still adjusting to the life growing inside of you.

Soft steps informed you of your wife’s arrival.

Natasha hadn’t been to a mission since you found out you were expecting. As a matter of fact, you had to stop her from delivering her immediate resignation.

The redhead was always by your side and insisted on calling the doctor if you so much as sighed a bit too loudly.

“Detka?”

“In here” you called for her to join you in the baby’s room.

“Would you like some pasta for dinner?”

“Would love to” you leaned forward to kiss her but she was frowning. “What?”

“Isn’t the paint dangerous for the baby?”

“Good thing I’m not eating it, then” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious”

“So am I. I promise you it’s fine. Plus, I’m just painting some clouds. Not the whole wall. See?”

“I guess” she looked confused when you offered her a paintbrush.

“If you do the flowers while I do the clouds and the sun, we’ll finish faster”

“I’ll just mess it up” she protested but took the brush the same.

“I’ll guide you”

You painted the outlines of the flowers and gently instructed her on what colors to mix.

“Here” you smeared some purple on her arm.

“Hey!”

“If you don’t get dirty, you ain’t doing it right, baby” you winked at her.

“Yeah, that’s how we made this one right there” she tilted her head towards your belly and you gasped.

“Rude”

You felt some paint on your upper arm and heard Natasha giggling.

“What happened to paint being dangerous for me and the baby?”

“Figured it’s my child, she’s a tough one”

“That she is”

You continued your work, stealing glances and smiling at each other. Pretty soon, you were both covered in paint.

The light filtered through the window and landed on Natasha’s features. You wished you could paint her with that soft glow.

Perhaps another time, you decided when your stomach growled.

“Are you hungry? Tired? Sit down, you’ve been on your feet for too long”

“I’m alright, love”

“I’ll start dinner”

“Not until you paint something on my back”

“What?”

“Just do it, please? Here” you drew a heart on her cheek and pecked her lips. “And we’ll have dinner as living paintings”

“Fine” she conceded, going around you and lifting the brush. It tingled your skin. “No peaking” she warned.

“Better not be something dirty”

“I’m drawing your boobs by memory”

“Nat!”

“I’m kidding! Ok, all done”

“Such a child” you rolled your eyes.

As promised, you had the most delicious dinner. Right before jumping in the shower, you took a look at your back and spotted the Black Widow symbol.

“It’s all I can draw” Natasha said shyly when your eyes met.

“It’s perfect” you smiled.

Even after you both showered, and all the paint was washed away, you felt in your skin all the love and care Natasha had for you and your family.

And as Van Gogh said, what is done in love is done well

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x You #Natasha Romanoff x y/n

[s-4pphics]

i wrote ballerina!reader and tattooist!ellie bc i’m high and obsessed now

cw: oc being a slut, sexual tension, flirting, slight asshole!ellie, mentions of stripping and tattooing 🤭

you had walked into the parlor with the intentions of getting a small tattoo.

after confirming your age and signing some documents, the parlor clerk told u that it was going to be a ten minute wait because your requested artist—ellie williams— was still with another client. you had already sent her your reference photo weeks ago, in which she replied with a quick cool:p and a link to her cashapp to send your deposit to confirm your appointment.

you’d been suggested ellie’s account on insta and u took note of how sleek her artwork was. she did it all: cartoon characters, realistic portraits, animals! anything you could think of, she knew how to do. her shading and coloring was incredible, and her clients had left nothing but praises in her comments. you would never say, but u took note of how good her hands looked in the videos that she posted on her account.

you were mindlessly scrolling through twitter after watching multiple videos of waffle house employees fight for their lives before you heard a raspy call of your name. your head perked up, and you made eye contact with the girl who’d been plaguing your thoughts since you saw her.

you stood outta your chair too enthusiastically as you hopped your way closer to her. “hi, i’m her,” you confirmed with a toothy grin.

you noticed how she took in your appearance with a lazy gaze from your head to your toes. you were in your usual attire: a lavender sweatsuit with a rhinestoned juicy slapped across your ass, hoop earrings, and slightly worn uggs with your small bag slung over your shoulder. your brightness looked so out of place in the dimly lit, grungy looking building. instead of shying away, you gave your own eager gaze back, taking in her own presence: a simple black t-shirt with matching jeans, a full tattoo sleeve on her left arm that peaked out from her actual sleeve, and vans. her ears were also heavily pierced. her get-up was nothing special, but she still had your knees trembling.

she gave you a quirk of her brow as her lips pursed slightly before she turned to walk you into her studio. “cool, my studios this way.”

she led you near the back of the parlor, pulling open the brass door for you as she granted you entry. you pretended that you didn’t catch her looking at your ass.

“you can just sit here while i set up, it’ll be like… two minutes.” she said calmly, nodding her head towards the tattoo chair. she sounded tired.

“long day?” you stupidly asked. of course she had a long day, you idiot! look at her! you mentally scolded.

she was sterilizing her tattoo gun before she replied casually, “yeah, i um… between you and me… my last client was a douchebag. i had to put my earphones to keep from decking him in his throat. he just kept saying snarky shit to me and thought i wouldn’t catch it. fucker didn’t even tip.”

let me make it better, baby! you thought. i want your tip!

“damn, that sucks, i hope i can cheer you up,” you said with a dreamy tilt of your head.

she perked her head up to look into your eyes before humming in acknowledgment, looking back down at her work table.

she broke the silence a couple minutes later, sitting on her rolling chair before scooting closer to you and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, “so your reference is done printing, where were you thinking about getting your tat?”

on my puss—

you mentally shushed the slutty side of your brain, sitting up straighter in the reclining chair, “well i’m a dancer! i’m not allowed to have anything super… visible on my arms n legs because it’ll be distracting to the audience—“

“i never heard of strippers having that problem,” she said abruptly with a confused look. your face ran hot.

“i-i’m not a stripper,” you stuttered out before clarifying. “there’s nothing wrong with stripping! but i’m… i’m not. i do ballet.”

“uh huh.”

“i am! genuinely, i’m super flexible!”

“so are strippers,” she said blankly.

fuck. you were losing her.

“i mean it! my academy’s headmaster would lose her mind if she saw that any of us got something permanent on our bodies. i was thinking some place more…. discreet?”

“mhm. like where?”

“m-my… my um.. hip. like my lower hip.”

“okay. how low?”

“huh?” you squeaked out. fuck. really, really low—

she smirked at you before calmly replying, “how far down do you want your tattoo? it’s pretty small so it should be quick.”

“i don’t know. as far down as you can get it,” you replied slightly huskier.

“uh huh,” she said with a slight nod while licking her lips. “lay back for me.”

and you never laid down so fast.

#ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ballerina!reader #black!oc #the last of us #works 𖧧࣪ #lesbian #thot thoughts 𓈒⁀➷ ‿➹ #tattooist!ellie ✎ ᝰ

[ghostieyanyan]

Hey I really like the secret musician Mc, could I request Yan Jamil and Azul reacting?

yesss i love those two so much. But since I just did the octavinelle, I’m gonna to do scarabia, if that’s okay.

i admit that this is probably not my proudest work but i do like the ideas in it. maybe ill re write it in the future but honestly i don't have much brain capacity to re read this again and check it again. (I've done that so many time that im so tired of see this in my drafts, im so sorry xD

~Musical!mc~

Yan!Kalim x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Warning: yandere, obsessive nature, slight-nsfw, drugs mention (in art form), kidnapping mention,

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim actual found out that you can sing first, Jamil wasnt happy that kalim found out first but what can you do?

He was on his way to the ramshackle dorm to invite you and Grim to a party he was throwing at Scarabia. He was really excited about it. Going through all his plans in his head. They were gonna get colorful balloons and fun games, lots of food and dancing.

But in the middle of his through, he stopped and heard something, a sweet melody. He's heard the melody before but the lyrics were new. but where is it coming from?

Like having no sense of dangerous, he started to look around for the reason. And then he saw you… through a window.

You were cleaning in the Ramshackle and singing as you did so. He was mesmerized, like he was getting hypnotized or charmed. then it clicked! That’s why he’s heard it before! He caught you humming the melody before when you and grim decided to support Ace, Jamil, and Floyd in their basketball game.

It’s was before they were playing and everyone was just getting into their seats. Since he got a special seating, where there's lot of room, vip seating, he offered a seat or 2 for you and grim. He was playing with grim when he heard it for a second. It was too short and too loud in the gym to process the melody but boy does it sounded nice. And its been in his head for a long while. He might have even tried to copy the melody or try to continue but he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right. But with how you sang it, it was just perfect! Your melody to him was like a siren calling him closer, until it’s practically trying to crawl inside.

When you finally noticed him with a quick scream. Kalim had to apologize and had to ask how you didn’t tell him about your musical talents? You should join the music club! Everyone will love you. If you tell him you were shy or that you don’t like the idea of performing in front of others. He’ll be insistent on helping you and tell you that you’re amazing. He’ll even bring the music club to show you. You be a star!

To be honest, he was 50/50 on wanting you to share you talent but he also want you to be his personal song bird. He’ll feel guilty about keeping you to himself but he’s spoiled… he doesn’t know what to do~~~

He asked Jamil on what he thoughts, can who would know him better than his best friend!!

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hated everything of this. How didn’t he noticed you could sing?! And how did Kalim find out before him? Has he been that busy and oblivious? Not fair. But he can’t worry about that now, now he has to worry about kalim wanting you! No, you are his! But he did want to hear you sing… he had to make a plan.

He decided that he’ll “stop by” just to see if you’ll sing for him. Which is very childish but he'd rather do a 1 on 1 sessions than the entirety of the music club taking you or even kalim being near you. Kalim has had you long enough!

If you are too shy to sing in front of jamil, he might encourage you by singing together. He does know he has a pretty silky smooth singing voice. You two would sound perfect together, like it was meant to be.

Your voice is like a snake charmer to him. Hell, do whatever you want and take care of you. He'd honestly wish you were his master instead. But he also like the idea of being the one in control. You're his so its only fair of you'll only sing for him. He'll love to sing more together. He'll love to fall asleep with you in his arms, singing him a melody that will melt his stress away as he dreams about having a life with you in his dreams

He has fallen for you so hard that he just wants to run away with you. Travel the world and see amazing places. You two will be a power couple! If there’s trouble, he’s prefect to fix it. Food, safety, awareness, smart, good looking, handsome, is there anything Jamil cant do? The only problem is that he needs you to fall for him. If you fall for him then everything will fall to place, perfectly. He would have to be tempted to hurt anyone who got too close. But thats a lot of variables in this situation, but he can handle it. He will handle anything for you. Jamil will move mountains for you. Or mind control someone strong enough to move it.

But for right now, what he allows himself to do, without being too suspicious, is whenever you come over to Kalim’s crazy childish parties, he’ll take you away for the last quarter of the party and have you sing for him. Just him. It’s enough time for no one to notice and if anyone ask? You’re using the restroom. Or you went to get some food or a drink. No one will notice a thing. Even kalim, with his puppy dog personality, will be distracted by the party. Kalim won't mind if you become his...

#twst kalim #twst fanart #twst #yandere twst #twst headcanons #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland fanart #twst x reader #twst kalim x reader #twst kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim al asim #yandere kalim al asim #twst jamil viper x reader #twst jamil x reader #twst jamil viper #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #twst musical mc

[spicyspiders]

Hii, could we possibly get a part 2 for stay the night?

If so fluff pls! Js like Abby Y/N and Mike hanging out and eating breakfast

Maybe Abby and Y/N talking about how she dislikes max, maybe them bringing Abby to the pizzeria, and maybe even some kisses between Y/N and max

Pls! And if not feel free to js ignore !!

❤️😽 tyy!

I didn’t write them taking Abby to the pizzeria, but I hope you still like it.

Falling asleep to a background noise wasn’t something that you found uncommon. Normally, it would be a fan or rain, but after following Mike back to his place, you found your eyes growing heavy at the sound of sizzling bacon.

Your eyes open with a gasp when you hear movement from the doorway, “morning, Abby,” you say with a yawn. You try to stretch out your drowsiness with an accompanying groan, but by the time you’re done, you don’t feel much more awake.

You’re given a blank look by Abby, one that has you grinning. When you look over at Mike, he’s watching you with a soft look. “Don’t burn the bacon,” you say, scolding him with no actual heat behind the words, “you know Abby doesn’t take her bacon like that.”

“Is she gone?” Abby asks as she pulls back a chair and sits down. She sets her papers and markers down on the table, a few of the sheets already drawn on.

“Max? She left not too long ago,” you respond. You try your best to look at the sheets already full of color to try and interpret them, but Abby places a blank sheet on top and uncaps one of her markers.

“Pancakes or waffles-”

“Waffles,” you say, cutting Mike off.

“Abby,” Mike finishes.

You watch Abby with bated breath as she pauses her drawing to make her decision. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so it’s only fitting that his question had the power to completely make, or break your day. You sat poised in your chair, ready in a slit second to leave if Abby chose-

“Waffles,” Abby answers.

“Yes!” You say, your voice full of excitement. Abby gives you another blank look, and Mike rolls his eyes, the smile back on his face.

You get up and grab the syrup from the fridge and the waffles from the freezer as Mike sets the plate of bacon down on the table.

“One or two, Abby?” Mike asks as he grabs the plates and silverware.

“One,” Abby responds after another short moment of thought.

You set the cold box down in front of the toaster and then set the syrup in the middle of the table. You step around Mike to grab three glasses, as well as juice from the fridge to set down again on the table.

Back in front of the toaster, Mike steps up beside you and leans heavily against you. “One or two?” You ask softly.

Mike wraps an arm around your waist to get more comfortable, “one.”

It’s quiet for a few moments as you wait for the waffles you had popped in to finish before putting the last one inside. “Ouch,” you hiss as the waffles momentarily burn your fingers as you quickly place them down on the plates.

“You okay?” Mike asks, his voice laced with concern. He lifts your hand to his face to look over your fingers carefully.

“I’m fine,” you respond with a soft laugh and pull your hand away to put the last waffle into place.

Mike steps away to place one of the two plates in front of Abby, but not before pressing his lips softly to your cheek. He returns seconds later with another kiss pressed to your cheek. You lean into the kiss and your body follows suit as you lean against Mike. You feel your eyes grow heavy again until you’re awakened from the ding of the toaster.

“Hungry?” You ask Mike.

Mike grunts softly, his arm tightening around you momentarily before he pulls his arm away and takes the last plate to the table.

You sit and eat quietly after pouring you and Mike a glass of juice. You were too tired to even think too hard about how Abby only poured a glass for herself. Personally, you thought it would have been much better for her to pour a glass for the three of you because you ended up spilling a little bit of it when you poured your and Mike’s glass. You would just blame that on your exhaustion.

“I don’t like her,” Abby says when she’s done and she’s pushed her plate away.

“Like who?” Mike asks.

“Max,” she responds and you and Mike share a look.

“Why?” You question.

“She smells like aunt Jane,” Abby responds as she continues drawing.

“It does stink,” you respond under your breath and let out a hiss of pain when Mike elbows you, “what? She smells like a senior center!” You say, rubbing at your side.

Much to your surprise, Abby smiles at your comment, the sight filling your body with happiness. When you look back over to Mike, he’s shaking his head with a frown.

“You’re a bad influence,” Mike says as he takes a sip of juice.

Your silverware falls to your plate with a clang, “I’m a great influence. Without my influence you would still be a pancake family.”

Mike lets out a huff before turning back to his plate to finish his waffle. You smile a smug smile as you finish your own before Abby stops drawing to look up and ask Mike a question.

“Can I go to work with you?”

“No, Abby.”

“Why?” Abby whines.

“This isn’t like my job at the mall, it’s not a place for kids.”

“He gets to go with you,” Abby says, pointing her marker in your direction.

“He isn’t a child,” Mike says, and you can’t help but laugh at the words. “Even though he acts like one,” he says under his breath.

You turn to glare at Mike, but your expression falls away when you hear Abby’s giggle, “and I’m the bad influence,” you say and grab the dirty dishes on the table.

“Why don’t we go to the mall?” Mike asks after Abby’s giggles die down, “the new art supply store is open, maybe we can get you some new markers?”

“And then we can start selling your artwork. You’ll be the new Picasso,” you add after placing the dishes into the sink.

With the blank look they both give you, they truly are brother and sister. You turn and grumble to yourself and the dishes as you turn the water on. You weren’t up to washing them, but you at least could let them soak.

When you turn from the sink, Abby is gone and Mike is leaning against the doorway. “Where’d Abby go? Aren’t we going to the mall?” You ask as you step up to Mike while wiping your hands on your pants.

Mike presses a sweet, syrupy kiss to your lips before responding, “I told her we will after our nap.”

You send Mike a grateful smile, one that he returns before pulling you by the wrist to his bedroom. You don’t even have enough energy to make a sexual joke about how quickly he’s pulling you there.

In his own way though, Mike beats you to it, “later,” he whispers against your mouth after pulling you close once you’re in his room. He shuts the door with a soft click before going to rummage around in his dresser.

You wordlessly get dressed into the change of clothes he pulls out for you both, snickering at each other when you stumble on tired legs trying to get out of your pants.

Under the covers, you get as close as you can. Your legs tangle together and Mike rests his head on your chest. By the time you’re burying a hand into his hair to run your fingers through the dark locks, you almost aren't sure where you start and Mike ends.

#x male reader #mike schmidt x male reader

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

The Sacrifice Douma x Reader pt 2

Pairing: Douma x reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and scary water( I don’t wanna spoil too much lol)

Summary: Reader Meets the mysterious demon.

Enjoy!

***************************************************

“Welcome little flower, I must say I almost didn’t recognize you”.

Those eyes… full of color and yet it’s like there’s nothing behind them. Like a sunny winters day. Deceptively warm. A chilling bite disguised by outward beauty.

Hanako excused herself and shut the door. Leaving you alone to your impending doom. You shifted on your feet. Feeling like a minuscule worm in front of a hungry hawk.

You fixed your eyes on the floor, not being able to take his piercing gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Hmm?” You heard the demon hum and then some shuffling. Soft footsteps echoed in the dim chamber.

“Are you afraid? Well I suppose you would be , you’ve been through a lot my dear. That nasty old man was so cruel wasn’t he?” the demons tone sounded concerned and pitiful but you knew it had to be an act. Demons didn’t feel emotions like that.

“But don’t worry, I took care of him already..” he hummed happily.

Took care? What did that mean exactly?

You looked up slowly, shaky eyes meeting his eerie smile. But not quite having the courage to make it to his eyes yet.

“W-what do you want from me..?” You couldn’t hold back the burning question any longer.

“Ah so you can speak haha, I was beginning to think my bride was a mute”.

…..

What did-

You must’ve heard wrong..

Surely he didn’t say..

No, there’s no way, he said bribe.. or scribe.. yeah maybe he needs a scribe…

“Well back to your question little flower, how much did that filthy noble tell you?”.

“H-he told me I was being sacrificed..to a demon..”

…

“That’s all?” The demon cocked his head.

“That’s all..” you shuffled your feet.

“Oh, no wonder you’re practically shaking, I’m not going to harm you my dear, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll explain a couple things.” He smiled and motioned to a small table in front of his throne thingy. Slowly you moved and sat with your knees tucked under. The demon sat on the other side.

“Aren’t you tired of staring at the table? Look at me little flower, I’d like to speak while actually looking at you.” You didn’t want to, but you also didn’t want to make the demon mad.

Reluctantly you lifted your head until you met those piercing eyes again. Full of beauty but again something was missing behind those eyes.

“Much better, under all that mud I couldn’t tell, but now I see you have the most captivating eyes. Like the color of my favorite flower. I suppose I couldn’t have picked a better name for you” he smiled like he was enjoying an evening of relaxing tea and cakes. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please stop…”

“Hm? Stop what little flower?” He cocked his head to the side. A habit of his it seemed.

“I… whatever this act is.. if you’re going to eat me then please get it over with… don’t make a fool of me..” ugh you had to go and open your mouth. That’s what always got you into trouble, that big mouth of yours.

The demons eyes widened a bit and a look of obliviousness passed his face.

“What ever are you talking about? Why on earth would I eat you?”

Is he being serious?

“B-because you’re a demon..what else would you want with me?”

“Well yes I am a demon, and I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy eating humans, but after the trouble I went through for you why do you think I would waste that by eating you?”

“B-but then-then why am I here??” Your voice raised slightly.

“Because you’re my bride of course.” He smiled like it was the most natural and obvious thing to say.

….

….

….

“…”

“Little flower?”

“I see” gracefully you stood up.

Douma only looked up curiously.

You smiled and bowed like you’d done a thousand times for nobles.

“Hm?”

It looked like the demon was going to open his mouth but before he could you spun around faster than a viper and in Douma’s opinion quite comically ran out the door leaving him amused and confused all in one.

“What a funny bride I have” he smirked resting his face on his knuckles leisurely.

Meanwhile you were chicken running across the household.

(I imagine something like this lmao, ignore the other guyXD)

Who?! What!? Where!? WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?

Dead, you must have frozen to death that night and this was your weird personalized hell.

No way this could be real. Did that demon really say you were his bride??

You almost let out a laugh. How obsurd. He was just playing with his meal but still, why did everything feel so damn confusing!?

Voices up ahead made you come to a screeching halt.

Quickly you dove into a nearby room, thankful it seemed to be empty and collapsed to the ground.

Your heavy breathes filled the silence of the room.

Just what the heck was happening to you?!

Your arms wrapped around yourself for comfort. Maybe running away from a demon lord wasn’t the best idea but he surely was powerful enough to stop you if he really wanted to.

Still you did what you always did, act first and think later. You’d probably made him mad and he was plotting your horrible end right now.

Chances of escaping a demon were low, you knew that but you at least had to try.

Sighing your eyes roamed around the dim little room you took refuge in. The only door was the one you came in through so that was out.

Tall shelves filled with books and scrolls lined the walls. It seemed like your only option was to nestle yourself behind them until dark, maybe then it would be easier to make your escape. The sun was already low in the sky so you knew you wouldn’t have to wait too much longer.

Whilst sitting in anxiety, curiosity also got the best of you. You reached for a wood bound book on the shelf in front of you.

The cover was etched with dark lines, swirled and straightened to make two figures. One feminine with long flowing hair and one masculine. The pair were embracing one another lovingly. You slowly ran a finger over the title trying to decode its meaning.

You knew how to read, but not better than a child. Unfortunately slaves were not given priority when it came to education.

Un-und

Under

The

Under the m-

Moonl

Under the moonlight

No

Under the moonlit s-sk sk sky

Aha!

Under the moonlit sky

You poked a finger under the wooden edge and turned it upwards.

You would’ve loved to try to read more but the pages were too dark, which meant your time to escape had come.

Gingerly, as to not aggravate your already aching body, you slowly got up.

You pressed your ear to the door.

Silence.

You let out a shakey breath before slowly sliding the door open.

The halls seemed empty which was a good start.

Tiptoeing quietly sounded like thunder striking on these creaky wooden floorboards.

Be quiet be quiet be quiet be quiet be quiet

Finally after what seemed like a lifetime you got behind the structure and onto open field. It was very hard to see, of course it was a moonless night because you always had shit luck.

The grass was soft under your sandals, damp still from fallen rain earlier that day you guessed.

You could vaguely make out some lantern light away in the distance. Seeing as you didn’t really have many options you started following it.

You tried not to let the darkness panic you. Thankfully your goal of escaping kept the short breathes and chest pain that being in the complete dark usually caused. Along with the horrible memories that paired with them…

Your thoughts must’ve distracted you too much or maybe it was because it was basically pitch black that you didn’t have time to react properly as your right foot descended down onto what was supposed to be soft grass and instead slid down something that gave way with a squish.

Your foot slid so suddenly down the mud that your whole body pitched forward tumbling into what you had first assumed would be a mud patch but to your horror what was supposed to be squishy was icy cold and wet.

It took your body being completely enveloped in the freezing waters to realize you fell into a body of water. A big one apperantly because as you desperately tried to find the ground with your feet you failed.

Flailing your legs and arms you tried to find the edge but it was so damn dark and you were in so much pain.

It didn’t help that you never quite learned to swim.

Your head tried to stay above but it was uselsss and soon you started taking big gulps of liquid.

You couldn’t-didn’t know how to stay afloat so you sank.

Deep

Deep

Deeper

And it was dark

So very dark

What a truly pitiful end.

You fought so hard these years and for what?

At least the demon wouldn’t have the satisfaction of tearing you apart.

Your lungs burned and you couldn’t hold your breath any longer.

So you let go.

God it was painful, the water rushing in.

Was it possible to cry underwater?

I

I wish I could’ve had more time

I wish

I-

….

….

…

*******************

Oooh who could that be 🤭

Please lemme know what you think! Thanks for reading!

Part 3

@hoerangho5hi @palmtreeoceansworld @olxvxa-rdra @tsukilover11 @warringwarrioridiot @abandonedhhearts

#douma x reader #douma #kny douma #douma fic #Doma #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fic #demon slayer #douma x reader smut #douma smut #douma fluff #bride #arranged marriage #upper moon fic #upper moon x reader #douma x y/n #doma x reader

[forever-rogue]

hi!I've gone through a rough few weeks.your Peter stories are really sweet and comforting to me, he's one of my comfort characters in general, and he has become better with your writing. I'm struggling with anxiety , and I hope I don't sound like I'm pressuring you to write anything , or something serious like that. if u have any upcoming stories like that, I'd love it. but ofc u don't have to do anything, this is just a big thank you for your writing 💝

AN | Hello my love, I hope you’re feeling better. I hope you enjoy some soft Peter ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was a lot of things…scientist, genius, photographer and Spider-Man. The other thing he was, which you both loved and hated at the same time, was being extremely perceptive. You wondered if that was just who he was, or if part of it was due to his heightened senses. He was a good, kind man though, and you figured that he'd always possessed a gentle, kind, empathetic heart. 

Which is why you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find standing outside your apartment door, flowers in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other, a soft, sweet smile on his face. Despite how downright shitty you’d been feeling lately, you couldn’t help but mirror his magnetic smile.

“Hi sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. You felt giddy as soon as he pulled away, touching the spot where your skin had been blessed by his lips, “I don’t want to impose, so you’ve got two choices - you can take these and I leave or you can take these and I stay and we can hang or do whatever you like.”

“Hi Pete,” you grinned at him, the same lovely smile that made him weak in the knees, “‘m sorry I’ve been off lately; I’ve really missed you. W-will you stay?”

“Of course,” he would've done whatever you asked of him, but he was glad you wanted him to stay. It had been three days since he’d last seen you, three days too long, seventy-two hours too much, and he was missing you more than he’d care to admit, “I’d love to.”

“C’mon,” you took the flowers he offered you, a pretty combination of daisies, tulips, and carnations and wrapped your fingers around his wrist as you led him inside. You sighed softly as you inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. Peter set the bag with snacks down on the kitchen counter and started to unpack everything, “these are beautiful, Pete. Thank you.”

“The prettiest flowers for my flower,” he was cheesing at you so ridiculously hard that it made you laugh softly, “I’m glad you like them…figured they might brighten your day a little bit.”

“Honestly, Peter,” you grabbed a vase and made quick work of filling it up with fresh water, sugar, and vinegar before trimming the ends of the stems. You arranged them neatly in the vase, and set them onto the counter, touching one of the soft, pretty petals, “you could get me a rock and I’d be thrilled. It doesn’t matter what the item is, it’s the fact that you thought of me in the first place.”

“I always think about you,” his confession was soft and a pretty pink flush colored cheeks, all the way to the tips of his years, “I love you, you know. Kinda crazy about you, in fact.”

“Peter,” you bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head fondly at him, “I love you too. And I’m sorry, really, for the last week. It’s just been a rough few weeks.”

“I hope you know that you can always tell me what’s going on.” he reached over the counter and put his hand on your face, gently brushing his brush over the apple of your cheek, “or you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re a good man, Peter Parker,” you walked over to him and without skipping a beat, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Peter had always been a backrub type of hugger and it was something you never grew tired of. You melted right into his body, letting his warmth and solidness envelope you. He swayed back and forth with you ever so slight before pulling back to take your face in his hands. He peppered your face in kisses, causing you to giggle softly at the ticklish sensation his touch created, “Pete!”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he nudged his nose against yours before placing a lingering kiss to your lips, all saccharine and honey, “want me to stop?”

“Never,” you shook your head before letting him kiss you again, only pulling apart when you needed a breath of air. You doubted that he did, but appreciated the moment of pause nonetheless. Your hands found purchase on his chest as you mulled over your words for a few moments, “it’s really nothing even so bad or whatever, it almost feels silly to say it out loud, even though I know it’s not, but my anxiety has been bad lately and it just kind of makes me panic and shut everything out - as you well know by now.”

“Trust me,” he gently pushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “I know the feeling all too well; which I know you know. It’s just like that sometimes, ya know? But as long as you know I’m here for you, that’s what matters.”

“And I’m here for you too,” you studied his handsome face before setting your eyes on his soft eyes; they were all warm chocolate and golden flecks. Soft to make your heart warm, and enough to make you melt, “my love. I’m going to be honest with you, as I always am, but I’m not really feeling up to much today.”

“Would you feel up to not doing anything today with me?” he asked softly and your eyes lit up. You gave him a soft nod and he relaxed, “how about a movie marathon? And maybe, but only if you’re feeling up to it, later we go out and grab dinner?”

“That sounds perfect to me,” your words quickly melted into a squeal of delight as he scooped you up into his arms and started  carrying you into the living room. He made it all seem so effortless and easy - although you supposed for him it was - setting you down on the couch gently, “silly man.”

“Maybe so,” he tutted as he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over you, “but it’s only because I’m crazy for you, sweetheart. I’m gonna get all the snacks and make some popcorn if you want to cue up a movie. I’ll even let you pick!”

“What a fair and just man,” you peeked over the back of the couch to watch him. You liked how he moved around your place, like he’d always belonged there, so at home and at ease. You couldn’t wait for the day the two of you finally shared your own home together. The idea of a lifetime waking up next to Peter sounded like the best thing in the entire world. The idea of one day calling him your husband, the father of your children - everything - was more than you could have ever asked for. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, he turned around and looked back at you, giving you a quick wink. 

Anxiety, among other things, really sucked and some days it felt like it was winning over everything, but it was moments like this that made everything worth it. There were hard days, but there were so much else than all the good days. Peter made sure of that; Peter was helpful and supportive in all the ways you needed him, Peter listened to you and gave you what you needed. You could only hope that you offered him the same in return. If nothing else, you would try, you would always try for him. 

“Alright,” he padded back into the living room, a big bowl of popcorn in his hands, perfectly seasoned and buttered. He set it down on the coffee table, and went back to get the sweets, but not before pausing to press a kiss to your forehead, “be right back, sweetheart.”

“Alright,” you nodded, staring at his retreating back, taking just a moment to admire his toned backside. He might have been yours already, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the view, right? 

“I can feel you staring,” his words were filled with nothing but affection teasing and fond reverence, “take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

“That’s your specialty, not mine,” you called over your shoulder as you grabbed the remote and started scrolling through Netflix to find something that would suit both of you. This time when he came back, he had a bowl filled with all sorts of different candy, your favorites and his, “oh, Peter, you really spoil me.”

“It’s nothing that you don’t deserve,” he scooted under the blanket where you had lifted it and cuddled up next to you, pulling you into his strong, warm frame, “besides, sweetheart, you do all the same for me.” 

“I would do anything for you, Parker.”

“And I would do anything for you,” as if you didn’t know that. He proved that to you over and over again. Peter gently stroked your arm, lulling you into a sense of warmth and security, “what’s first up on the viewing menu?”

You hit play on the cheesy romantic comedy that you’d randomly selected and he sighed dramatically, “sorry, my love, that’s what happens when you let me pick the movie.”

“I guess I’ll allow it,” he grabbed the popcorn and popped a piece into his mouth, smiling when you dipped your hand into the bowl and grabbed a big handful, “the things I do for love.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like a good romance film like the rest of us,” you rested your head on his chest, grounding yourself in the familiar and steady beat of his heart. If you didn’t know about his enhanced sense and powers, you might have missed the way his heart beat just a little faster than normal, “now hush and watch…but continue to cuddle me…please.”

“I can handle that,” he agreed happily, “but first, pass me some of that candy!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was about two movies and several hours later that found you staring at him, studying his features and paying more attention to him rather than the movie. He didn’t let on at first that he knew you were watching but eventually the boy couldn’t hold back any longer and turned his gaze onto you, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” you promised, reaching over and taking his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together, “nothing at all. It’s just…I love you. Really. You’re a good man, Peter and you’re always so supportive of me in all the ways I need. You’re patient and kind and all the most wonderful things. I know that I’m not the easiest person to deal with, but I hope you know how much I love you. It’s a lot, like all the love in the world.”

“Funny,” he brought your entwined hands to his lips as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I happen to love you just as much and more. It’s not like I’m the easiest person to deal with either. I have my own struggles, and you know the whole Spider-Man thing. But you’re always by my side, and that means more to me than I could ever put into words.”

“Yeah?” you felt stinging at the back of your eyes as you blinked away your tears.

“Yeah,” he tugged on your hand and gently pulled you into his lap. The two of you looked at each other, breathing slowly and softly, “it’s always gonna be us. Always.”

“Always,” you whispered softly, his lips ghosting over yours before he kissed you again, “always.”

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader

[theoncelee]

Squealing Santa Submission!!

I’ve had this done for a bit, but figured I’d post it on Christmas Day because why not?

Hi! @blueberrygiggles I’m your Squealing Santa this year!! Thank you @hypahticklish for orchestrating! I really can’t be trusted with winter holiday themed things can I? Yes, I wrote about both Chanukkah and Christmas, again. Listen I just can’t pick, ok? They’re both too fun. Hope that’s ok 😅

Also I made a lil visual aid it’s just flat colors but:

Fandom: MHA

Ship: KiriBaku (Romantic)

Warnings: Light swearing and capital text. Other than that nothing this is super fluffy ^-^

Summary: AU where Kirishima celebrates Christmas and Bakugou celebrates Chanukkah. Kirishima and Bakugou are enjoying a lazy day chilling in Bakugou’s dorm room. The topic of which winter holiday, Christmas or Chanukkah, is better comes up. Playful tickling ensues 😈. Later, when lying in bed, Kirishima takes his sweet, soft, revenge.

Bakugou and Kirishima were just chilling in Bakugou’s dorm room, shooting the shit.

“I’m just saying, Christmas is the best holiday. I mean, come ON. Lights, cookies, and best of all, MAGIC. Chanukkah has NOTHING on THAT” Kirishima argued playfully.

“Nothing you say? Chanukkah has latkes, fire and gambling. That beats some fatass in a stupid suit any day of the week” Bakugou replied.

“Gambling?” Kirishima questioned.

“The fuck do you think dreidel is, shitty hair?”

Kirishima burst into loud laughter at that.

“DREIDEL? PFFT ihit doehoesn’t cohount if ihit’s chohocolahahate”

“Alright, pack it up gaylord before I give your something to laugh about” Bakugou shot back.

“You say as if you aren’t the biggest gigglemonster in Class 1A, Bakubro.” Kirishima teased with his signature shark-toothed grin and a wiggle of his fingers.

“Speak for yourself, sir laughs-a-lot” Bakugou retorted with an indignant huff.

“Aww that was cute. I’m tickled”

“You will be if you don’t watch your attitude”

“Says you, giggles” Kirishima replied, accentuating the statement with a quick poke to Bakugou’s side, causing the fiery blond to bite down on his lower lip.

“That’s rich coming from you, flinch-meister” Bakugou easily returned, tasing kirishima in the ribs, resulting in a dramatic flinch and a sharp gasp.

“Oh yeah? Well, too bad you’re too slow to catch me.”

And with that Kirishima took off running out of Bakugou’s dorm room and towards the common room in a blind fit of nervous energy, giggles already threatening to bubble up and out of his throat. Bakugou was hot on his trail, fighting a grin of his own (he DID have a reputation, you know). The two quickly found themselves in the common room, facing each other from opposite ends of the couch, swerving to try and fake the other out. Though they tried to look serious, no one could mistake the excitement and playfulness dancing in their eyes. Finally tiring of the back and forth game, Bakugou leapt across the entire couch, flying into Kirishima and barreling them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Bakugou scrambled to straddle Kirishima.

“Nooo dohohon’t”

“Don’t what, shitty hair?”

“Tihickle mehe”

Before Kirishima ever realized the trap he’d fallen into, Bakugou shoved his hands up his boyfriend’s shirt and scratched at Bakugou’s toned stomach.

“AIIIIIIIIEHAHAHA BAHAKUHUBROHOHO”

“Yes love?”

“AHAHAHAA”

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you sweetheart”

“NAAAAAHAHAHA DOHOHON’T” “AHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP”

“Don’t stop? Well, if you insist”

“NOHOHOHO IHIHI AAHAHAHA”

“Just shut up and laugh, shitty hair”

With that Bakugou squeezed his hands into Kirishima’s underarms. And Kirishima did indeed “shut up and laugh” considering he could no longer get a single word out through his laughter. Sensing his boyfriend was reaching his limit, Bakugou moved on to his grand finale, Kirishima’s ribs. He found the rib 3 from the bottom on the left, the one he KNEW Kirishima couldn’t stand, and dug in with scratching, vibrating fingers. The reaction was immediate.

“AAAAAIIIIII…………AHAHAHA………AH………NAHAHHHH……MEHE…..HERHEE….CEEEEE”

That last scream sounded suspiciously like “Mercy”, so Bakugou slowed his tickling down to just gentle tracing, keeping Kirishima in light giggles before rolling off him to get him some much needed water. Kirishima just closed his eyes and smiled, feeling significantly happier than he had before.

Later that night, Kirishima and Bakugou were cuddled up in Kirishima’s cramped bed, the tips of their noses practically touching as they easily shared whispers and hushed laughter between them. Wide smiles tugging hard at their cheeks, stray hands roaming, blushes deepening. All it took was one stray finger brushing against Bakugou’s side where it met his back, causing Bakugou to let out a small yelp and Kirishima to raise an eyebrow, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Oh? What’s that I hear? Is that…an opportunity for revenge?” Kirishima wasted no time grabbing Bakugou’s waist, flipping him over and pulling Bakugou’s back into his own chest. Firmly securing Bakugou against him with one arm, Kiri used his free hand to skitter his fingers all over Bakugou’s tummy, causing the sweetest, most out of character giggles to spill from the blondes lips without restraint. Normally he was able to resist such light tickles, but it was late and he was too tired to try or care. Soft, easy laughter bubbled up from his core and poured out of his mouth without protest as he threw his head back on Kirishima’s shoulder and grabbed desperately at his hands, despite putting no force into actually pushing them away. Naturally, Kirishima noticed.

“Aww is the super manly King Explosion Murder not strong enough to push me off? Or is he having too much fun to even try?” Bakugou could only shake his head and giggle in response. Because he WAS having fun. It felt good, to laugh like this. To be tickled and teased and so thoroughly messed with. It felt good to know that someone cared about, no, LOVED him enough to want to fuck with him like this. He kept up a tough facade, and he was slow to trust, but with Kirishima he felt SAFE and LOVED. And he knew he could love THIS, with HIM, without judgement. And GOD it felt good. He let his giggles grow without resistance, reveling in the feeling of laughter and being teased like this.

“Careful, love. Don’t wake our classmates” Kirishima chucked directly into Bakugou’s ear, careful to make sure his breath alone tickled.

Seeming to have forgotten they weren’t entirely alone, Bakugou quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, attempting to muffle the sweet giggles he couldn’t even attempt to stop from streaming out of him. That’s when he felt treacherous fingers slip under his thin sleep shirt, the scribbling on his bare skin somehow WORLDS better worse. Kirishimas delicate fingers scratched and scraped at Bakugou’s soft skin, occasionally digging into the toned muscle underneath. They were like spiders, softly reeling in their prey for the taking. And Kirishima, that godsend asshole, was definitely taking. Kirishima’s dangerous hands traveled up and down Bakugou’s torso, tickling from his hips all the way to the top of his ribs, occasionally even dipping into his underarms. Bakugou grabbed a nearby pillow and threw his face into it in a desperate attempt to muffle his soft laughter. When he felt one devious finger swirl into his navel, he felt himself double over in a failed attempt to curl up, still held firm in Kirishima’s embrace. His mind was alight with the buzz of nothingness, unable to comprehend anything besides the feeling of Kirishima against his back, the safe arm around his waist, and the gentle tickles crawling over every inch of skin they could reach. Sensing his boyfriend was reaching his limit, Kirishima slowed his tickles down until he was just gently rubbing away all the ghost tickles, before pulling Bakugou even further into him, carding his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, and whispering sweet praises in his ear. He kept this up until Bakugou drifted off to sleep, cheeks still dusted pink and a soft smile still tugging at his lips, body still curled around Kirishima’s arm. Kirishima himself wasn’t awake to enjoy the sight for much longer.

#squealing santa 2k23 #mha #mha tickle #kiribakutickle #kiribaku #lee!bakugou #lee!kirishima #ler!bakugou #ler!kirishima #switch!bakugou #switch!kirishima #mha tickle fic #kiribaku tickle fic #my fics #tickle community #tfb #ss2k23 #tickle fic

[poraphia]

"A Siren’s Tale."

Chapter 3 of "If you look at me, I'll listen to you."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!villain!wilbur x hero!reader

➵ CREATING! 11.9.23 | 2215 words

➵ CONTAINING! reader is eavesdropping on siren, siren reminisces on past relationship with reader, brief use of she/her pronouns, george having pretty privilege lmao

➵ SAYING! here it is! the long awaited chapter 3. I’m literally in class right now writing this— I was just too excited. I hope everyone enjoys! and if you haven’t already, please read chapter 1 and chapter 2 just to get a better understanding of the story <3

My masterlist :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Siren.

Siren.

Siren.

A dangerous man, many would call him.

With the ability to make anyone abide to his commands with just the soothing sound of his voice, he was generally perceived as a menace to society.

I sat in my office, scanning through what notes I had gathered on the main three syndicate members. Papers scattered all over my corkboard with different colored pins. There were lined papers with ink smudges, printed out photos of the villains, and small sticky notes jotting down minor details. Zephyrus and Blade’s evaluations had been done already, each with their own interesting finds.

Most of my studying took place before, during, and after hero and villain encounters. I watched from afar, gathering how each member would interact with the other. I’ve noticed that Zephyrus would always look back to check on Blade and Siren, and whenever Blade looked like he was in any sort of distress (which was rare by all means), Zephyrus would immediately stop what he was doing in order to protect Blade.

Blade would bicker with Siren every once in a while, and would occasionally stop protecting Siren just to prove some sort of point, but he would never take it too far and prioritized the safety of Zephyrus and Siren. With his interactions with Siren, it made me wonder if they were related in some sort of way. Their duality couldn't be something strangers could just bond with one another. That goes for Zephyrus too. It was like his wings were assembled feather by feather in order to protect those boys.

I exhaled deeply out of my nose, thumping my forehead on the board. If anything, it felt like I was making up bullshit as I went, and it was driving me insane. I stepped away from the board and plopped down in my seat, rolling away from my computer desk and into the middle of the room.

I was growing restless and getting tired from watching at a distance. So badly I craved the feeling of just wanting to be in an isolated area with one of these villains. A one-on-one session wouldn't be so bad with the syndicate at this rate. I knew it was dangerous, and frankly I think HQ wouldn't be so fond of me interacting with a villain on a personal level like that, but boredom was seeping into my veins like a snake.

Knock knock.

I whip my head around, realizing it was George standing outside my door. His goggles were resting on his head and he was wearing his civilian clothes. I waved at him through the window, giving him the signal that he could come in. He twisted the knob before closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said, slightly waving his hand. “just wanted to check up on your progress before I head home for the day.” He walked up to the corkboard, examining each little Polaroid and handwritten note with his hands in his pockets. I watched as his eyes darted to each spew of information.

Finally, he turned to me and pointed. “Haven't gotten to Siren yet, I presume.” he commented. I sighed, twirling a little in my chair.

“Yeah, this week I was gonna evaluate Siren.” I softly chuckled. Suddenly, a question that had been lingering in my mind arose. George and I were were similar in regards of power, but George was prioritized as a main hero. “Hey, George?” I asked.

“what's up?” He replied, tilting his head. I sat up in my chair, playing with my sleeves as I spoke.

“How did you end up fighting as a hero? I mean I heard you used to be in the detainment center too for a while, but now you're a regular fighter.” I asked. This question had been in my mind the moment I learned about his powers. To be completely honest, comparing me and him together, my powers would serve to be more useful in battle. Shouldn't he be the one in the detainment center rather than me?

“To be completely honest, (y/n), I just had connections.” he answered blankly. I tilted my head, a little confused. He continued to explain as he returned his gaze to my board.

“I didn't have to prove myself. I didn't have to go on this wild mission just to show that I wouldn't use this dangerous power for bad. All I did was be friends with Clay.” He shrugged. “I don't know if he coerced the council or they just noticed that I hung out with the heroes a lot, but one day they just.. Transferred me into the team with the occasional detainment center gig.”

I sat there with furrowed eyebrows and an expression of bewilderment. “How long did it take you to transfer..?” I quietly asked.

“Oh, like about three months I guess.” he answered nonchalantly.

Three.. Huh..?

Roughly I've been working my ass off for five months straight, and every time I request that I take up any type of hero mission, just as simple as to patrol, I either get denied or get no response, and he’s telling me that it's as easy as just being friends with Clay..?

I smiled and looked at George. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” he nodded before waving his hand.

“Yeah, I'll catch you later, (y/n).” and with that, he left my office.

I couldn't help but sit there and sulk. Who would've known that my goal was much easier to achieve as long as I was buddy buddy with hero of the century? It felt all unfair.

I looked at my corkboard again. My information suddenly felt so.. Useless. I barely learned a thing. How would the information I'm learning now contribute anything spectacular on the battle field?

My eyes then wandered to Siren.

A man of notorious power.

A man I haven’t evaluated yet.

And a man who I was going to see tonight.

I left the office at around 9 o'clock, which was usually when villains and vigilantes started to wander the streets. I thought it was best to be on the streets as a civilian. Despite me not being a battlefield hero, it was still important not to draw any attention. I was still a hero, which meant regardless, I was a potential target. I sauntered the streets of South Bay. It had been a while since I was in this area, at least in civilian form. There were some times I was here dressed as a hero, but it was because I was doing research on the Syndicate. Other than that, I never really found a purpose being in here.

That, and the fact that I didn’t want to see Wil anytime soon.

I clutched my bag close to me, wandering through the empty streets. Rats were scurrying in alleyways and litter was scattered alongside the pavement. There was a light breeze enough to send chills amongst my skin. Only the flickers of the streetlights could be heard buzzing above me.

“Fuck, what am I getting myself into..” I muttered quietly to myself. I rubbed my shoulders, attempting to warm myself up. There was no sign of Siren, or any villain showing up for that matter. Sighing, I looked at the building across the street. Maybe a rooftop would be a good view? I was reaching for simply anything. Any sort of danger, excitement, something more than just that plain gray interrogation room and the constant buzzing of the ceiling lights. Sighing, I began walking across the street to find the fire escape of a building.

After what felt like millions of flights of stairs, I was finally at the top. My legs ached and my breath was unsteady. I felt like collapsing onto the cold concrete and falling asleep forever. When I looked up, I noticed that one of the double doors were open ajar with a stopper. Curious, I peaked through the cracks to see if anyone else was on this rooftop with me.

Lo and behold,

There he stood.

Siren leaned against the concrete barrier as he stared at the night sky. His flop of brown hair swooshed with the quiet winds along with the end tails of his coat. It took enough will power to not continue to gawk at the sight.

I needed a way to see him up close.

I covered one eye and projected a hallucination with the other. There, I summed a tiny cat wandering around the rooftop. It's small paws weren't enough to provoke him, meaning that I had to make noise hallucinations as well.

A tiny meow squeaked from the small creature, finally grabbing the attention of the villain. Siren turned his head only to be met face to face with the creature.

“Aw.. Hey there little buddy..” he cooed. He then fully turned around, letting me catch a glimpse of his appearance.

His coat hugged his curves perfectly, and he was masked with a navy blue blindfold. I couldn't make out his complexion that well under the moonlight. The cat sat a few feet away from him, tempting him to move closer. Siren looked around to check his surroundings before walking over and crouching to the cat’s level.

Holy shit.

Siren was right in front of me.

“You're so cute!” he exclaimed in awe. I watched as his hand steadily approached the feline as I manifested the feeling of fur against his touch. He carefully caressed it as I leaned closer against the ajar door to get a better look at the man.

“You know.. I don't know why but something about you reminds me of her.” Siren noted. I retreated a little from the door. Should I be listening to this? This seems a little personal. Siren chuckled. “I don't know. There's a feeling to you, little guy, that reminds me of when I was teen.” he moved his hand so that is was now under the cats chin. Siren sighed, admiring the cat. He seemed to be lost in thought as he stared at it.

“I.. I miss them.” He finally uttered. “She was my beautiful lily when we were kids.” He softly chuckled. I made the cat cuddle up to him more, earning more of his trust. Without realizing, I was holding my breath, straining my ears just to hear another word from him. “That makes me sound old, doesn't it?” I directed the cat to meow in response. The adrenaline was sparking through my body from such a high risk position, but this has been the most information I've ever gotten from a villain, all in five minutes! I leaned in more to listen.

“I remember back when we were kids we would always go to each other's houses after school. They would help me with work and then I would make lunch for us together.” he smiled. “I-I didn't even know how to cook! I would have to ask my dad the night before just to learn a simple recipe. Then my brother would complain we were making too much noise..”

What..? But that sounds so..

Siren lifted his head up, staring into the midnight sky. His smile slowly started to fade as an expression of regret only rested upon his lips. “I messed up..” he muttered. “I really did.. And I.. I wonder if they're okay. Last time I saw them was at that Cafe weeks back. Maybe I could ask Tom if he's seen them..”

Oh..

Oh, fuck.

I frantically blinked and lost my concentration to keep the cat hallucination. The cat had disappeared from his grasp, but thankfully, Siren was still looking up at the sky. Without sparing a second, I raced down the stairs, frantic to leave the area as quickly as I could. I started skipping steps and near tumbling as I descended down each flight. It wasn't until I burst through the doors and ran down the street I finally felt safe.

My chest burned along with my face. The cold air stung my cheeks and my legs wobbled with each step, but I was finally far enough to be considered safe. My feet slammed against the grainy, empty road as my lungs desperately searched for air.

Fuck,

I had almost gotten caught.

I ran my fingers through my messy, tangled hair as I attempted to regain my composure. Once my vision steadied, I began looking around. I looked to my left, seeing a familiar set of buildings close together. The distinct streetlight standing on the edge of the sidewalk and the few couple of trees planted in their designated area.

This familiar area could only mean one thing.

I slowly turned to my right, only to be met with the big logo of a big cloud and cursive letters, with a coffee doodle shining in LED.

Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe.

And there was Tommy at the counter.

“(y/n)?”

I whipped my head around, eyes widening even more.

“Wilbur..?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ adding a cliffhanger after already not posting in so long smhh but its definitely gave me more motivation to keep working on this fic. maybe ill post it on ao3? idkk. likes, reblogs, and replies are super superrr appreciated! :D

tagging ~ @joviepog @heartofwritiing @themonsterunderurmom @listenheresweaty

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