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thethingswedotomorrow · 6 months

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Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

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roosterforme · 1 month

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Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore.

"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.

She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered.

The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs.

Maybe she should have stayed home.

"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."

"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."

The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot.

She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.

Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside.

Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up.

But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"

She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her?

When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."

"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else.

"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."

Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."

Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"

Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."

"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.

Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"

Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"

"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."

That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"

She smiled and said, "Give me a name."

Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"

The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."

Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"

Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names.

"There she is. Anna!"

She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."

Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb.

The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.

"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly.

"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges.

She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick.

"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."

Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."

He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.

"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy.

The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."

Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head.

Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."

She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."

Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?

---------------------------

"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.

Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.

"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.

But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream.

Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief.

Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him.

"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"

Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.

Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"

She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about.

"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"

He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.

Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.

She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"

Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully.

Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."

"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."

When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.

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Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore.

Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late.

"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.

Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him.

She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.

"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier.

"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.

Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."

He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."

"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."

"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."

She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"

He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."

"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"

Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."

Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."

"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her.

"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"

Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"

Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.

"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob.

She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior.

"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."

Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."

"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."

Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."

"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.

-------------------------

Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all.

His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.

"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him.

"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her.

"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.

Bob sighed and said, "I wish."

She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends.

"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"

His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."

Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."

Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"

"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."

"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."

"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck.

It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"

"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."

She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"

Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers.

She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."

It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."

He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt.

-----------------------------

These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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pupkashi · 4 months

Text

to love is to linger

a/n: i read this in a tiktok comment and i burst into tears, love is such a beautiful thing and i hope every single one u gets to experience this kind of love bc u absolutely deserve it <3

wordcount: 825

masterlist

if there’s anything satoru hates more than being away from you, it’s leaving your home after spending time with you. he can’t help the way his stomach drops and the frown that settles on his lips, the slump in his shoulders and the sparkle that seems to die in his eyes.

“i cant find my keys! guess I’ll have to stay the night” he smiles, already pulling you into his embrace, you don’t resist, not wanting him to go either.

“we both know you already hid them in your jacket pocket, lover” you smile, eyes fluttering shut and melting into his chest a bit, breathing in deeply before pulling away.

satoru is quick to keep you firm in his grasp, pulling you slightly so you wouldn’t move too far from him. “maybe i can help you clean up a bit more? didn’t you wanna sweep?” he asks, hope glittering in his eyes as you look at him with an incredulous smile.

it’s a beat of silence before you place your hands on his chest, pat twice and sigh, “okay yeah, stay for a bit more and help me clean up.”

there’s a giant smile on satoru’s face as the words leave your lips. he’s bounding over to you like an excited puppy, sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek before setting you down.

“should we put some music on?”

this seems to happen every time satoru had to leave, starting up a conversation just as he was about to reach for his car keys, stringing you along until you’d tell him to sit on the couch again, he could spare 30 minutes right?

there was countless times where he was already out the door, saying goodbye when he’d turn on his heel, eyes wide as he proclaimed, “oh my god i almost forgot to tell you!” before dropping the juiciest gossip known to man.

“are you serious? wait come inside we have to unpack all of this” you’d immediately say, ushering him back in and preparing some coffee or hot chocolate for the two of you.

it would work every time, satoru would practically skip back into your home, snuggling into the couch he’d grown fond of as you began to talk again.

he’d do everything in his power to linger around, even when he’d eventually stay the night with you, having to say goodbye in the early hours of the morning.

“i could stay and make breakfast,” he’d suggest softly, the sun on barely making its way into the sky, the moon bidding the world goodbye.

“toru it’s 6 am,” you mumble, “you’ve been late enough this week,” eyes closing already as you feel your body giving into the clutches of sleep.

satoru pouts, he knows you’re right but doesn’t care that much. “what’re they gonna do? fire me? kill me?” he chuckles at the thought of them trying, kissing your forehead as you open your eyes just to scowl at him. “alright, fine I’ll go, just say you hate me,” he sighs dramatically.

you smile a bit, “cmere,” you mumble, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to you. satoru wastes no time in plopping himself back into bed, cuddling up to your side. he lets himself relax in your arms, sighing and closing his eyes, not moving for another 10 minutes before he decides he actually does have to get to Jujutsu tech.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he asks, stretching as he stares at you, cozy as ever in the warm blanket he’d bought you.

you nod your head, “and don’t be late, angel boy” you smile, blowing him a kiss as he walks out the bedroom door, catching it and bringing it close to his chest, smiling ear to ear until he’s closing your front door.

even when the two of you move in together, he still lingers as anytime he has to leave, roping you into a conversation, convincing you for just ‘five more minutes’ when your alarm goes off. he’s chasing after your kisses in the doorway, mumbling a quick ‘one more!’ before he’s grabbing you by the waist and deepening the kiss, smiling into it when you easily melt into his touch.

gojo satoru does everything in his power to linger around you when he has to leave. to him every second with you counts, every moment is fleeting and every minute without you seems a minute wasted.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, melting your heart when he makes up a blatantly obvious lie to spend even a mere second longer with you.

to love is to linger.

to spend every moment you can with those you love. to do anything in your power to lengthen the time you have with them. to love someone is to spend all day and night with them and dread the moment you have to leave their side.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

can We get a very physically hurt/half dying reader x the healers? And by bbg’s wanderer and albedo? Like when we get so hurt that we almost die?🩸💀☠️🩸☠️💀🩸☠️💀🩸☠️💀🩸☠️💀

Absolutely!! I'm not particularly sure which healers you meant though so I hope this is okay and I know Tighnari technically isn't a healer but he's a canon doctor so I figured he could also be in this! If there's characters you wanted to see that weren't in this don't be afraid to ask for them! Also so sorry this took so long!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Readers injured~༺}

CW: Some gore because of injury description, it's my first time writing Kokomi so I'm sorry if it's not the best!, angst and fluff <3

(Includes: Albedo, Baizhu, Tighnari, Wanderer, and Kokomi!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Just stay awake."

Albedos words rang in your ears as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, carrying you through the thick white snow to the nearest heat source in hopes of saving you. Your body was already limp against him because of the cold and it made his heart pound in his chest, he was scared...terrified and right now the only thing keeping you alive, your life was in his hands...and he knew it.

He kept telling you it was going to be alright, promising you nothing bad would happen, but it didn't matter...after all you could barely hear him over the loud screams of the wind, each one smacking you both with whips of freezing cold air, some of them harsh enough to make him stumble backwards. You were starting to loose hope, tears staining your cheeks and stinging as they froze against your skin, were you really going to be alright?

Suddenly Albedo fell forward onto his knees, setting you on the ground and pushing you into what appeared to be a cave, just big enough for the both of you. He didn't waste a moment, crawling in after you once he had removed his coat and covering you with it like it was a blanket, his hands busying themself with the start of a fire. The second the flames appeared he pulled you into his lap, forcing you to heat up...and doing everything in his power to save you, the love of his life.

𑁍༄Baizhu:

"I'm with you now, don't worry dearest...it's all going to be alright."

Baizhu held your hand tightly, his fingers intertwined with yours while Changsheng used her gifts to perform the ritual...draining his life force right from his body...so you could live to see the next day. If you had been able to stop him...to keep him from shortening his life to lengthen yours, you would have...but you were so weak from your injuries...you could barely keep your eyes open. If he didn't do this...you would have died.

"Changsheng..." He simply said the serpents name, but even in your dazed state you could tell he wanted details...he wanted confirmation you'd be okay and he wouldn't rest till he knew, even as he was rattled with coughs...he had to know if you were going to make it. "Baizhu...they will be alright, your life force wasssss enough. Rest with them now...you both need it."

Baizhu nodded, crawling carefully into the bed with you so you could rest together...his ears tuned in to your breathing, listening for any signs of trouble and kissing your head while you drifted off to sleep.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

"Don't die on me now...you're far to important for me to loose."

You could taste blood on your lips, metallic and coppery...dripping down your chin in bright red streaks, all the while you clutched your stomach, hunched over in the most excruciating pain you'd ever felt in your entire life. Your body was riddled with bruises and cuts, your insides screaming at you for medical attention as you frantically scanned the area around you for the one person that you knew could save you, "Tighnari! H-help!"

Suddenly big blue ears twitched in your direction, his movements quick and calculated as he hurried to you, taking down anything that got in his way while you fell to your knees. He could tell this was serious and he didn't wast a single second, as soon as he was close enough you were getting bandaged, his senses on high alert just in case a enemy got to close. "You know when I said, give them a beating, I didn't mean to include yourself."

You couldn't stop yourself from chuckling, which hurt...but his sarcasm...it also made you feel better

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"You'll be okay, you have to...y-you can't leave me."

Wanderer couldn't even think correctly, his arms holding you so carefully...like your body was made of the most fragile of material in the world...all the while your crimson red blood dripped down his clothes. His emotions going hay wire and leaving him on a roller coaster, fear like he'd never felt before, anger burning in him like a raging fire and most of all..the lack of understanding.

If someone had went after him...that he would have understood...he would have defended himself, he would have fought against them and he most likely would have won, but who...who the hell would attack you.. and why? Why couldn't he have been there to keep you safe? "Please...I...I love you and I know I don't say it enough because of my stupid pride but I love you and you're not allowed to die on me because some stupid jerk attack you." He hugged you tighter as he spoke before bursting through the doors of Tighnaris house and quickly laying you down on the bed, his hand intertwined with yours even when everyone told him to leave.

He wouldn't let you wake up alone...no matter what he'd be there.

𑁍༄Kokomi:

"Just...breath."

Kokomis hands rested softly on your chest...a faint blue light seeping from the cracks of her fingers while she used her vision to heal your wounds and you tried desperately to keep breathing like she'd instructed you to...,but despite her incredible powers, you were in so much pain...each breath threatened to be your last one.

"It's going to be okay...I'll have you patched up in no time, just concentrate on me...I'll save you, I promise." She leaned in close, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, her sweet calming aura making you feel warm as you struggled to keep your eyes open. That warmth spread all across your body, as if she had hugged you with all the love she could give and just when you'd thought you were going to take your last breath, that love made all the pain fade away.

Your injuries healing till they were nothing more than scratches and your fear replaced with happiness...gratitude. The two of you shared a sweet kiss before she had to hurry away to help someone else.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

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natsarrownecklacx · 1 year

Text

Listen To Your Princess

Princess Wanda Maximoff x Hand Lady Reader

Summary- Princess Wanda doesn’t like the way her people talk about people like her. People who love the way she does. She uses you to work through her frustration.

Word count- 2,699

Warnings- Homophobia (relevant to the time period), mention of beating and burning to death, Smut, eating out, fingering, pillow riding, masturbating, power play. Minors DNI (anything else lmk)

AU Masterlist

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

“The disease has taken another girl from the village.”

Wanda’s mother, Queen Iryna Maximoff, announces from her place at the table, as if she is sharing a grave piece of information.

“The men found her in bed with another man’s wife. They did their duty. Beat and burnt them both to stop the disease from spreading.” Iryna’s words anger her daughter. It is not this so-called “disease” that is killing off the girls of the village but the idiotic men. Men who refuse to believe their wife’s get more pleasure and comfort from other women than from their husbands.

Wanda keeps her eyes downcast, staring at the table as her parents continue talking amongst themselves. She counts down the seconds before she can excuse herself from the table and return to her chambers where you are.

“We must hope none of our servant girls catch this disease, my love. It would be such a bother to replace them.” Wanda’s father, King Olek Maximoff, speaks from the head of the table, making Wanda’s blood boil. They would kill you if they knew your secret. They’d have the guards beat you and burn you in front of her, making her watch in hopes of “curing” her. Her hand tightens around her wine cup, her knuckles turning white with the strength she grips it with. She won’t let that happen. She won’t ever let anyone lay a hand on you.

They wouldn’t kill Wanda of course. They need her alive, her fathers one and only heir to the kingdom. One day she will be queen. She will be expected to take a husband, to give him sons who will be her heirs. The notion is laughable. There is only one person Wanda intends to marry and that person is not a man.

Sometimes, on days like today, when ignorant people speak of people like her as wrong, Wanda likes to imagine the day she will become queen. When she will have absolute power above the kingdoms. When she will use her power to stand before everyone and proclaim you as her queen and her kingdom a place where anyone can love and be loved.

“I’ve heard of a new treatment for the disease coming from the North.” Iryna says, a hint of relief in her voice.

No. Wanda knows what her mother is about to say. She’s heard of the same “treatment” herself. It makes it feel sick, fills her with rage. She wants to hang any person who’d dare try to “treat” another human that way.

“May I be excused?” Wanda asks, looking to her father. It’s been long enough now, she should be able to leave without either of her parents questioning why.

“You may.” Olek dismisses his daughter, waving her off with a flick of his wrist. She doesn’t waste a second, standing from her chair and pushing it in then making her way to her chamber to meet you.

————————————————————

Wanda pushes through her chamber door with the intention to grab you and fling you against the bed, to work through her current swirling storm of emotions by burying herself between your legs. However she can’t help but pause when she enters the room to see your smiling face.

“Princess.” You greet the brunette, curtsying as a sign of respect. “I’ve missed you.”

Wanda takes a deep, steading, breath, trying to hold in her emotions. She loves you. She really, truly loves you. How could that be wrong? How could anyone condemn your beautiful, kind and caring self to death simply because of the love she holds for you and you for her.

“Princess?” You ask, seeing the inner turmoil written all over her face. You step toward her, wanting to offer any comfort you can. “Is everything alright?”

Your words snap Wanda back to her senses. Her anger toward the world and her parents coming back tenfold. She almost feels bad about what she’s about to do, standing there looking at the concern and love written over your face.

But she needs it. Right now she needs it more than she needs the blood in her veins or her claim to the throne. Plus she knows you’ll enjoy it, you always do.

“Get on the bed, y/n.” Her voice comes out deep, her accent thick on her tongue. Her dark, lust filled eyes trail over you as you do as told, sitting on the bed with no hesitation, your palms laying flat against your thighs, the way you know she likes.

“Such a good girl for me. Such an obedient girl for your princess.” Wanda praises you, closing the door before closing the distance between you. She runs her hands over your body, delighting in the quiet sounds that leave your lips.

Without taking her eyes off of you Wanda reaches behind you, pulling one of her plush, heavy pillows from the headboard and placing it in front of you. “Strip and get on top of it.”

You can’t help the noise that leaves your mouth at her command, nor the flood of arousal that settles between your legs. Despite both these things, your lover has never asked you to do this specific thing before and you can’t help but be hesitant. “Princess l-”

“Don’t you want to be a good girl y/n? Don’t you want to do as your princess commands you?” Her voice comes out demanding, but the look in her eyes is one of desperation. She needs this. Needs you to behave for her.

Wanda’s hand comes up to stroke your face, giving you the silent comfort and encouragement you need to do as she says. “Go on now.” She says, patting the pillow in front of you. “Spread your legs over the pillow like a good girl. Make your princess proud.”

Her words cause heat to settle in your abdomen. You nod your head in compliance, bringing your fingers to unbutton your dress and removing it over your head. Once you sit bare before her you mount the pillow, looking her in the eye and wait for her next command.

Wanda steps back to admire the image before her. The sight of you naked and waiting in front of her has arousal pooling between her legs. She moves backward until she sits herself in a chair opposite the bed. She takes her time looking you over, ingraining the image in her mind, saving it away for a day when she cannot be near you.

“Move your hips, Dekta. Ride the pillow for your princess.”

At her command you begin to move your hips against the pillow, the friction of it against your clit causing a heat to flush through your body. Your hips move slowly against the fabric, allowing the languid movement to ease you into the new position.

You don’t take your eyes off the princess as you continue your movements, even as quiet moans tumble past your lips. Your hands come behind you, resting just behind your back to give her a better view. You hear her breath hitch, her eyes darkening more, barley a sliver of green left visible.

“Faster.” Wanda orders you, slipping her hand beneath her dress. Her fingers find her clit rubbing fast, tight circles over it.

You do as she says, picking up the pace of your hips against the pillow. Your thighs threaten to squeeze shut at the pleasure it brings you, but you will yourself to keep them open. “Gods that feels good.” You moan out, your thighs shaking around the pillow.

“That’s right baby, keep riding that pillow until you come like the good little slut you are.” Wanda orders breathily, slipping two fingers inside herself and grinding against the palm of her hand. Watching you fuck yourself as she orders turns her on more then she could have thought, the desire inside her building to a near uncomfortable level.

“Princess- Wanda- Oh gods. I’m going to cum.” You moan out, grating your hips harder against the cushion between your legs, the added friction pushing you right up to the edge.

“Go on baby. Come on your pillow like the whore you are.” Wanda picks up the pace of her fingers, intent on pushing herself over the edge at the same time as you. “F-fuck.” She moans, watching you fall apart in front of her. “Don’t stop, Dekta. Don’t stop until I’ve cum. I’m so close, Dorogoy.”

You continue to grind against the pillow, riding out your high until Wanda comes around her fingers, moaning loudly and keeping her eyes on you as she does so.

The princess takes a minute to catch her breath, her eyes never leaving your panting figure. But her hunger returns tenfold when she sees you accidentally move against the object between your legs, a whimper falling from your lips at the stimulation.

“Lie down y/n. I’m not finished with you yet.” She orders, her voice leaving no room for debate. Wanda watches as you take in her words, as the uncertainty fills your eyes and you try to close your legs. “Ah, ah, ah, pretty girl. Lie down and spread your legs for your future queen.”

Wanda stands from her chair, riding herself of her dress as she walks toward you and joins you on the bed. She smirks in satisfaction, watching you do as she says, spreading your legs for her. “Good girl.” She mumbles against the inside of your thighs, leaving kisses and bites there, marking you as hers.

Wanda kisses her way up the inside of your thighs, leaving her marks as she goes until she reaches the apex of your thighs. She takes a second to look you over before moving forward, licking through your folds and sucking your clit into her mouth.

“Wanda.” You moan, burying your fingers in her hair to hold her close.

Hearing you moan her name reminds Wanda of the reason she has you in her bed, you specifically. Not just because she wants to feel, but because she loves you.

Then she remembers the words of her parents, the reason she has sought you out filled with frustrations in the first place. Without warning she plunges two fingers inside you, starting out with a fast, brutal pace, causing you to cry out.

She kisses her way up your body, leaving open mouth misses as she goes until she reaches your lips. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it away from you as she listens to you whimper and moan. “Please, princess. Slow down.” You whimper, moving your hands to rest on her chest. Without thinking Wanda takes both your wrists in her hand, pinning them above you on the bed.

“Wanda?” You ask but your words don’t reach her, her mind focused on the rage that swirls around her. “How can it be wrong for me to love you the way I do.” She asks herself, curling her fingers against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Wanda continues her assault on that one spot, making your thighs shake and your back arch into her. “Wanda please.” You sob, the pleasure becoming to much for you. Your not sure if your begging her to stop or fuck you harder, but you can’t help yourself from begging. “Please, Wanda. Please.” She lowers her mouth, taking your nipple into her warm, wet mouth and sucking on it.

Wanda brings the palm of her hand to rest against your clit, grinding it against the bundle of nerves as she continues to move her fingers inside you. She releases your nipple from her mouth, a string of saliva following her as she moves up to mumble against your open, moaning mouth. “How can the way you squeeze around my fingers and cry out in pleasure be anything other than right.” The added pressure along with her words has you clamping down on her fingers, coming apart with her name on your lips.

Wanda continues to fuck her fingers into you at a hard, fast pace, only coming back to herself when she feels you pushing of her hand holding down your own. Her mind clears of its rage filled fog, her eyes focus on tears in your eyes, her ears on the whimpers and mules falling from your lips.

Panic sets into her bones, she hadn’t meant to hurt you, she’d just been so angry. At her parents, at the world. At herself for not wanting men the way she wants you, at you for making it so easy for her to love you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.” Wanda stutters out, lunging forward to take you into her arms, flipping your positions so you lie on top of her. She continues to mummer apologizes against the crown of your head, weaving her fingers through your hair to sooth you, tears slipping down her cheeks the whole time.

Only when your body stops shaking and you wrap your arms around her does Wanda’s heart release itself from the vice grip her panic put on it.. “Shh, my love.” You whisper against her skin. “I’m alright, just overspent. You’ve not done anything wrong, it's okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Dekta.” Wanda whispers into the room once more. You simply press a kiss against her shoulder in response, wordlessly accepting her apology.

The room is engulfed in silence for a minute as you both allow yourselves to catch your breath. You rest your head against her chest and use your fingers to draw shapes over her bare skin.

“What happened, Wands?” You ask, no hint of judgment or resentment in your voice. “I’ve never seen you like that before. I’m not complaining I just- you don’t seem quite alright.”

Wanda stiffens beneath you, the hand in your hair halting its movements for a second before picking up its momentum again. “Mother and father were talking about the “disease” that ravages the village again.”

“Hmm. What else?” You ask, nuzzling against her chest, tightening your hold on her.

Wanda stops. She stares at you with her mouth open, shock clear on her face. “What else? Y/n they talk about people like us as if we’re a plague to be wiped from the earth. As if my love for you means less because you are not a man.”

“Yes but they usually do. I’ve never seen it bother you this much.” You look up at her, your eyes narrowed at the woman you love. “What else was said?”

Wanda tightens her hold on your, pulling your body impossibly closer to hers. She can’t look you in the eye, how could she, her parents made clear that if they caught any of the servants presenting with symptoms of the “disease” they would have them killed. That includes you. How could she look into your beautiful eyes and tell you that her parents would have you beaten and burned if they ever found out what you feel for each other.

She can’t. She won’t. Because speaking the words would bring a truth to them all to real. She doesn’t want to entertain the idea of ever losing you that way.

“It doesn’t matter, my love.” Taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, Wanda makes sure you look her in the eyes as she speaks her next words. “They are entitled to their opinions, Dekta. What they are not entitled to is forcing others to conform to them. They do not get to tell us our love is less or wrong because of who we are. Do you understand me?”

“I understand, princess.” You say, resting your head back against her chest, closing your eyes ready to let the exhaustion take you.

Watching you drift off to sleep in her arms Wanda decides she doesn’t care what she has to do, who she has to strike down, she’s going to make you her wife one day. She places a kiss to the crown of your head, listening to your even, sleepy breaths as she whispers into the room.

“One day I’ll make you my queen, y/n. And no one in the seven kingdoms can stop me.”

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n- I got the idea and wrote this so fast it hasn’t been proof read but here you go 🤲🏻

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #princess wanda maximoff x reader #princess wanda maximoff #house of Maximoff #wanda maximoff smut

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stuckinapril · 6 months

Text

[gritting my teeth with my nails digging into my palms] NO LOVE GIVEN IS EVER LOVE WASTED NO LOVE GIVEN IS EVER LOVE WASTED NO LOVE GIVEN IS EVER LOVE WA

#do u hear me . do u

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dameronology · 7 months

Text

when it rains (obi-wan x reader)

summary: being in love with obi-wan is great - but it might be less difficult if he knew about it. (commission for @ofmusesandsecrets!)

warnings: language

You were generally quite good at keeping your shit together.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been a threat to that.

On the surface, you were everything a Senator could need to be; an intelligent and well-spoken individual, with a high level of education and a passion for change. You always stood up for what you believed in; always spoke up on issues you were passionate about and always fighting the good fight. These were all things that Obi-Wan had loved about you, and in what felt like the galaxy's cruellest Catch 22, it was that love that threatened your ability to upkeep appearances. One glance at him across the Senate, or a brief moment of eye contact at one of the Galas - more often than not where he was your bodyguard - and you were worried it would all come tumbling down.

You had met Kenobi a few years after he'd become a Jedi Master. You were early on in your career as a politician, working as an apprentice to a higher-level representative. Always on the go, with stacks of paperwork in your arms and a million thoughts brewing in your mind, you'd crossed paths with Obi-Wan one morning during a meeting in the Temple. He'd given you a smile, made a quip about how he'd never seen you not on the go (which confirmed to you that he had seen you before and had stared long enough to notice those details about you).

Five years later, you hadn't been able to look at anyone else.

He was your best friend now, undoubtedly and wholly. You saw each other every day at the least - maybe in meetings and occasionally in passing - but he would come to your apartment every night without fail. Mostly just to catch up, and sometimes just to vent. Even on the days where Anakin had driven him to the point of grey hair, you were still happy to listen.

It was raining tonight in Coruscant. A lot. Lashing down from the sky, putting most of the city to a halt. Your afternoon meeting had been cancelled as a result, which meant you'd been holed up in your apartment all afternoon, a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of paperwork in the other. Obi-Wan's first ever comment to you had always rung true; you were always on the go, even when you were sat still. There was always something on your mind - something to create, something to do, something to debate. Sometimes, it made Obi-Wan want to grab your shoulders, give you a little shake and tell you to slow the fuck down.

He turned up just after 8PM - drenched, as expected, and with a slightly wet coffee cup in hand. In your line of work, you could afford a slow afternoon. For Obi-Wan, your busiest day of work was comparable to one he'd find relaxing. You had no doubt that he'd not long wrapped up for the night, so you wasted no time in stepping aside and letting him into your apartment.

"Long day?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

Obi-Wan glared at you. "Long day. Wet day."

"Right, sorry," you snorted. Taking the coffee cup out his hands, you tossed it into the garbage and headed towards your kitchen. "C'mon, I'll make you a drink that's not half rainwater."

"Thank you, darling," he gave you a small smile, hot on your tail as he followed you through the apartment. "I heard the Senate meeting was called early this afternoon."

"Yeah," you replied. "At like 2PM. Half the people due to come couldn't make it due to the weather. It took me two hours to get home."

"You should have come and found me at the Temple," Obi-Wan said. "You know my room is always available."

You knew. You'd always known, even on the nights when Obi-Wan was present there too. How many times had you stayed over after a long night? Snuck back there after a Gala? Just to sleep three feet apart, both your minds working at a thousand miles an hour, purely to resist the urge to reach out towards him and curl up into his side. The idea of domesticity with Obi-Wan was almost enough to kill you, just as it was right now. Here he was, leant against your kitchen counter. He was throwing his wet cloak into your tumble drier, hands reaching for a tea towel on the side. He was acting like he lived here, like he paid half the rent and maker, you wished he would. You wished that he would come back here every night and just fucking stay. With you, here, forever. No outside world; no politics; no stupid Jedi laws.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

You blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your mind - it went somewhere," Obi-Wan continued. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh...just work," you forced a smile. "You know how it is."

"I turn off when I'm done," he replied, hand brushing down your arm. "You never really stop, do you?"

I stop thinking about work, you thought to yourself, but I never stop thinking about you.

"No, I will," you murmured. "Sorry."

"Never be sorry," Obi-Wan said.

You snapped back into action, hands quickly chucking ingredients into a mug in order to produce an acceptable cup of coffee. You knew Obi-Wan's routine with his fancy-ass drip filter and organic beans and locally sourced milk. It was a few levels above the instant coffee you were about to press into his hands, but your actions were still met with a smile.

"How are you going to get back to the Temple later?" you asked. "The storm has half the city at a standstill and I beg you not to say that you're walking."

He smiled. "I realised as soon as I got to your building that I may be trapped for the night."

"Right," you replied, fighting back your own smile. "That's sort of the point I was getting to anyways."

Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he felt it too. If his eyes lingered on yours when you turned away, if you were constantly on his mind every moment that you were apart. Of course, it was different for him; after all, the job he'd dedicated his very life to forbade attachment in any form and this? Well, this was the highest form.

"I have some of my brothers clothes in the hallway closet," you broke the silence. "You're welcome to steal some."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, darling."

It wasn't really a question between you about where he would be sleeping. You only had one bed and you'd already shared before, so what was the point in overcomplicating it? Well...overcomplicating it even more. Nothing about this was simple, and sharing a bed was not the distance you needed for the situation, but what did you care anymore? You yearned to be around the man all the time, even if it meant doing this weird to-and-fro that you'd had going on for half a decade. Him being in your bed just for tonight was fine. You were both tired. You both needed it.

Obi-Wan picked up his mug, giving your arm another squeeze.

"I'm going to go and shower," he said. "Thank you letting me stay."

You smiled and nodded. "Always."

Putting aside your own half empty coffee, you threw it into the sink - that would be tomorrow's problem, as would all of this - and went through to the bedroom. You could hear the shower running, and your mind again went off to that all too familiar place: home. Not here, but wherever Obi-Wan was. What you wouldn't have given to had this every night; you getting ready for bed, him in the shower, both of you planning to end up in the same bed. It wasn't possible. You knew it wasn't possible, as long as he were still a Jedi and as long as you were still a Senator. Hell, you would have thrown your position aside in seconds if it meant being with him. Maybe that was the difference between the two of you.

Changing into a baggy shirt and sweatpants, you threw aside the covers and climbed into bed. The sheets were cold, as they always were when you first went to bed, but knowing someone else was minutes away from warming them up sent butterflies to your stomach. Maybe not butterflies, so much as they were wasps. Big, anxious wasps, at the idea of being in such close proximity with your best friend. What if this was the night that three foot meant fuck all? Maybe you could actually have his arms around; keep him closer for longer, not just a brief hug or a quick touch. This could be it now.

You heard the water shut off and there was a brief shuffling. A few moments later, Obi-Wan exited the bathroom. He'd opted for sweatpants too, but no shirt. Your instincts said to look away, but you couldn't. Hell, you didn't even care that you looked like a creep, watching him as he crossed the room. Obi-Wan barely even noticed, simply placing his boots by the door and climbing into bed beside you. You could feel the heat off his body beside you, arms just inches from touching.

"Was the shower okay?" you asked, eager to break the silence that had once again formed. "I've been having problems with...with my hot water."

"Why are you nervous?"

You blinked. "I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are," Obi-Wan replied. "You always ramble when you're nervous, and I've never heard you talk about something as boring as how well your shower is working."

"Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

"That still doesn't answer my question," he pushed. "Why are you nervous? It's me, sweetheart."

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm nervous," you muttered. "I'm not sure. I just...it's weird that you're shirtless in my bed."

"Oh," he seemed surprise. "That's okay. I can sleep on the sofa-"

"- no, no, it's fine," you quickly cut him off. "I just never really know what to do these situations, to be honest. When we've slept together before, I've always tried my best to stay on the other side of the bed but...I'm not so sure I want to do that tonight."

Obi-Wan stared blankly ahead for a moment. Okay, so that had been risky as fuck, and for a moment you felt yourself reeling, waiting for his reaction. To your surprise, there wasn't really one. Even when it was the most forward you'd been - without really being forward at all - he still stayed stoic as always. There was no visible response, just a quick blink and a small shrug.

"We're both cold from the rain," he reasoned. "It makes sense. I see no reason why we have to stay on opposite sides of the bed."

Much to your surprise, he was the one to move first. He shuffled onto his side, a large arm coming around your waist and the other snaking underneath you. He pulled you into him, hand guiding your head into his neck and tucking it below his chin. You were stiff for a second, but quickly relaxed - this felt right. Like it was meant to be.

You could faintly smell the remains of his aftershave, mixed with the smell of your shower gel. His skin was still warm from the shower.

(And maybe it was).

"Are you warmer now?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Toasty."

He smiled. "Good - now get some sleep."

You knew the morning would come, and that Obi-Wan would have to leave; you knew even more that this might not happen again. Not unless luck was on your side and would happen to lump you together during a storm, or a black out. Or - and the more terrifying option - that you declared your love for him and this would be how every night was.

It was hard to know; hard to tell and predict, just like everything else in the galaxy. Still, you were grateful that Obi-Wan was your best friend, and even more grateful that you had tonight.

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagines #obi-wan fluff #obi-wan kenobi fluff #obi-wan imagines #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan reader insert #obi-wan kenobi reader insert #obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fluff

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

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I’ve been fighting with this for ages when that other Cinderella ask popped up, how serendipitous that we’re all thinking about messing with fairy tales 😁 here’s my take:

Dream is what is commonly known as a fairy godfather, a matchmaker of worthy souls to create long-lasting stories. Everyone knows that a match facilitated by a fairy will supersede any objections due to class or circumstance.

His latest project involves the three-day festival being thrown to find a consort for the prince, who he plans to match with the handsome and kind but beleaguered Hob Gadling, who so dearly deserves a happily ever after.

The first night of the ball, Dream appears before Hob—who looks appropriately stunned and awed—and declares his intention to help him attend. He’s not entirely sure how he came to be personally escorting Hob to the ball soon thereafter, but as he sits in the transformed carriage next to a magically decked out Hob, who is charmingly clutching Dream’s arm in shy excitement, Dream reasons that it couldn’t hurt to be a little more hands-on this time, and give Hob the support he clearly needs to meet his Prince Charming.

Except when they arrive at the ball, the prince gave Hob one curious glance when they entered, and then proceeded to completely ignore him the rest of the night. How dare he?? When Dream specifically chose him for this treasure of a man, as the other half of one of Dream’s stories!! He’s utterly offended on both his own and Hob’s behalf. Luckily Hob doesn’t seem to have noticed, too busy staring at everything and curling himself into Dream’s arm, probably out of bashfulness, poor thing.

Well, the fairy tale romance may be a bust tonight, but at least Dream can still make sure Hob has a magical time for the rest of the festival while Dream regroups and makes new plans. So he spends the rest of the ball by Hob’s side, plying him with food and drink and attention, and whisking him off to the dance floor whenever he wishes, and plans to do so again on the second and third night. He even extends the magic on Hob’s clothes past the midnight deadline, now that there’s no more call for a dramatic and mysterious vanishing into the night to further entice that waste of space of a prince. (Dream is also vaguely keeping an eye on the rest of the attendees on the off-chance that he comes across a hidden diamond worthy of Hob’s heart and Dream’s story, though he doubts the likelihood of that considering how much of a disappointment the literal prince turned out to be. Best to keep the most of his attention on Hob’s enjoyment, and return to finding him a match worthy of a fairy tale after the festival)

—

Hob knows exactly what he’s been doing from the moment Dream appeared to him; literally everyone knows what’s meant to happen when a fairy calls themself your godparent, and had any other fairy done so, Hob probably would’ve been quite pleased to go along with it. But he fell in love at first sight with Dream, and knew then and there that no Prince Charming would supplant him from Hob’s heart.

So he manages to convince Dream to escort him, all but glues himself to his fairy patron’s side for the entire ball, and (when Dream isn’t looking) glares at anyone who appears interested in him to scare them off, especially the prince. He plans to make the most of the festival to woo and seduce Dream until the fairy understands that the best fairy tale match for Hob is Dream himself. (Worst-case scenario he’ll climb onto Dream’s lap in the carriage at the end of the last night and present his case more directly)

-🪽anon (I tried to find a place to make a “fairy god-dilf” joke but it never quite worked ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Fairy cockfather perhaps? Fairy godDADDY??

Look, Hob has had a shitty life. Everyone he's ever loved is dead, his remaining family suck, he's miserable and he wants more from life. And he is NOT about the bet all his chances on some snooty prince, when he could have a literal fairy!! Dream is everything that Hob has ever wanted, and he's not going to let this opportunity slide.

So yes, maybe he pretends to be a bit more helpless than he actually is. He blushes and flutters his lashes and keeps asking Dream to help him with little things, like lacing up his beautiful glass shoes. By the third day of the festival, he's convinced that Dream is feeling some sort of spark between them. Hob is certainly at the end of his patience. He's danced, flirted ("shyly"), talked and laughed with the most beautiful magical being in the whole world, and he is very much losing his patience. He wants to kiss Dream!! And maybe suck his dick!!! He's got a lot of feelings!!!

And as the hours pass Dream sees less and less candidates around who he deems worthy of Hob’s hand. There's always something wrong, none of them are good enough for his Hob... how could Dream even have thought that the Prince was a good match?! He's clearly nowhere near as handsome, clever or delightful as the kind of spouse that Hob deserves. All of the people around them are too boring to make a good story. Hob needs someone... unique.

And when Hob pulls him to a private balcony at midnight on the third night of the festival... and slowly guides Dream’s hands to his hips... and leans in so their lips brush together.... the light bulb moment finally happens. Its going to be a wonderful story.

(Incidentally one of Hob’s lovely shoes does get left behind. Yes, it's because they were fucking on the balcony and Hob was so cock-struck he didn't even notice his lack of shoe. No, he's not even a little bit sorry.)

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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ivorryskies · 1 month

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Prompt: Think I'll miss you forever, Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky, Later's better than never, Even if you're gone I'm gonna drive -Lana Del Rey

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Felix's Note: guess who's back 😭 I'm so sorry for my absence but I'm back! Delivering another fic for y'all! Enjoyyy <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairings: Dazai x fem!reader

Summertime Sadness

Tears fell from your face on the floor as it felt as if your eyes were weighing you down. Your arms were locked around the man in front of you, your lips never leaving his as if it were the last time you'd kiss him. Who knew, it may be true?

That thought haunted you every night. It was the night before the plan would commence, to stop fyodor, and it required having dazai captured in meursault. You knew he was smart enough to not die, he was smart enough to know what he's doing...right? You didn't want to think about it. And that's how you were caught up in the situation right now, him whispering reassuring words to you soothing you hair, his heart also unsure of the outcome.

You sat in a red dress that Dazai loved so much in the comfort of your own home, the tv was on but you couldn't get yourself to focus on it, you dialed Dazais number knowing he wouldn't pick up, his phone was confiscated after all, but it wouldn't hurt sending him voicemails on how good or bad your day has been. His absence affects you more then you anticipated. You just wanted him back, back at the agency slacking off work like he used to, getting scolded by Kunnikida only to spend time with you, you just wanted him back with you.

It hadn't even been a day since he left and you were already feeling the summertime sadness. You remembered the way he held you in his arms before leaving. His seat reassurances nothing but sugar coating the bitterpill. What if he never came back? What if Fyodor manages to outsmart him? Will you ever get the same comfort you did in his arms? Will you ever get to see the same laugh again the way he did? Will you get to stare at his once lifeless eyes, that were now filled with hope? Will you ever see him again?

While he watched the race in front of him awaiting his arrest, all he could think of was you. The way you held him, the way you gave him hope, the way you proved to him someone could love a person like him, the way you taught him that he is worthy of love too. He waited and waited until it was showtime, he was cuffed, he bid you farewell one last time in his thoughts and focused on the disaster in front of him now. But oh so he did miss the warmth of your embrace when he would rest, he missed the daily scoldings by you, he missed the way you showed him he was a human. Being far away from it made him come to reality again, that he is who he was.

3 days passed that neither you or Dazai spent time not thinking about each other. He was more caught up in the task before him, so he felt upset he couldn't think about you, while you wished you would stop thinking about him. You distracted yourself by many things, you cleared your head, but nothing could fill that feeling in your heart that something is missing. You think you'll miss him forever... Just like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky. Even in his absence you continued on with your life, it was the only way to distract yourself from him and your constant over thinking.

One afternoon, you got a call from Atsushi while you were lying in your bed. You wished that call was about Dazais safe arrival and picked it up. You greeted him in a soft voice before a familiar tone from behind the phone started speaking. "Open the door love". You didn't waste a second, you recognized that voice, you could never forget it, you could recognize this voice from miles away, you rushed out of your room to the front door and stood in front of it for a few seconds before swinging it open. There he was, the same man who you spent days worrying about standing before you. He had more bandaged than usual if that was even possible, and he was still in his prison uniform but your Dazai non the less. He gave you a tired smile and opened his arms.

Immediately you ran into them and took him in a warm hug. It was a hug you didn't want to let go of. This time again your eyes weighed you down but not because of worry or sadness but happiness and relief. You slowly and reluctantly pulled away from him and looked at him, you looked at his eyes again the same ones that you missed. As your own eyes trailed to his lips and took him in a kiss again. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you close afraid of letting you go again. He rest burried his head in the crook of your neck before breathing in your scent and sighed. Both of you sharing this moment in silence and connected with the same happiness and relief .

#dazai imagine #bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months

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Diluc Ragnvindr - "The Morning Greets You"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which Diluc wakes you, his darling spouse, from your slumber and spends a quiet, love filled morning with you before he forces himself to get up for work.

🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅

"..dea...."

A faint voice tries to part the ocean of dreams that has flooded your unconscious mind—

"..y....darling.... wa... up...."

— It's only a garbled mess; distorted by the liquid thoughts hanging over your head but—

"[Na.... [Name], my love.... it's morning now.... won't you... open your eyes for me?"

—it freezes the torrent and frees your mind of Morpheus' hold as you ascend into the realm of consciousness.

Your heavy eyelids peel open to be greeted by a blur of pale peach and red. As your vision sharpens, the strong silhouette of your husband comes into focus. He hovers over you, blocking the harsh glare of the morning sun from damaging your sensitive eyes. Gentle fingers move strands of unkempt hair from in front of your face as he leans down and kisses your forehead, then your nose, then finally, your lips.

"Good morning, my little flame. Did you dream of me? Is that why you fought so hard to stay asleep?"

He murmurs, messy vermillion lochs falling from his shoulder like an elegant curtain of velvet as he shifts to a more comfortable position.

"I've already requested the staff to prepare us breakfast.... What? Why the confused look?"

His head tilts to the side as he narrows his eyes with a faux offended expression.

The light from the large windows in your shared bedroom warm his naked form, catching on his long lashes as they shine down on him. The loose particles of dust and fibers that float about in the air are highlighted in the rays of light as they paint a lovely landscape of peach, white, and red. The look melts off his face as you ask him why he's here with you and not off doing his normal morning patrol around the vineyard.

"Oh, that. It's quite early; the sun has only just risen, so I have a few hours before I need to get ready and go to work."

He hums, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers; looking at you with admiration and love that smolders deep within his chest.

Through his ruby irises, you can make out a solemn look as he recalls all the times he was working instead of laying here in bed with you. All the precious moments he's wasted doing paperwork instead of having dinner with you. All the constant check-ins on his perfectly capable employees while he could've spent a little time with you. Archons; did he even deserve you?

"I hardly ever see you anymore, my love. You'll let me have this, won't you? Just for a little while... Just for a bit, could I be a little selfish?"

He speaks longingly, his hand gently grabbing up your own and holding it to his cheek as rubs his face against it.

How? How did he stumble upon something so lovely as his relationship with you? How did he, of all the men in Mondstadt, manage to steal your heart away? How has such an angelic creature as yourself settled for someone like him, who was so cruel as to never admit his love for you as often as he should?

Archons; he loves you so, so much.

Tears gather on his lower lash line as his eyes peer lovingly into your own. Filled with so much want— so much need. He could only look upon you with awe. For you were his everything.

"[Name], I love you. I love you so much."

🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅•♡•🌅

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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theplaid-wearingmoose · 1 year

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Crazy ~Namor x Reader smut for anon~

An NSFW where the reader is willing to kill Namor to protect their children from him. (Note: His crazy ass likes it a little too much.)

Warning: overbearing/ borderline violent Namor. (Nobody gets seriously hurt)

You had no idea what had come over your king. You were reading with your children in their bedroom when you heard crashing and shouts of his rage. Your two children jumped in your arms and you held them to you tightly. "Ma'alo'ob (it's alright), don't worry. Your father is just having a bad day." You reassured them. You rose to your feet and gently stroked their heads. "Stay here. I will take care of this." You said, calmly.

Before you could find your husband, he came storming into the childrens' bedroom. His eyes were large and wild. He was breathing heavy and looked fresh from battle. "In yakunaj (my love), what has happened? What's wrong?" "The surface dwellers! They would threaten Talokan with war over our vibranium! I have waited too long to strike...I must destroy them all NOW!" His voice thundered through the large room, scaring your children.

Your son and daughter whimpered at their father's voice and clung to your skirt. His wild eyes were drawn to them and you could see his anger take over him. "Why do you cry?! Crying is weakness! We must be strong against our enemy!" He shouted, pacing quickly. "Stop that, you are frightening them." You scolded. He whirled around to look at you. "THEY SHOULD BE! Our enemy will try to destroy every last one of us to get what they want! We cannot be weak!"

He lunged forward and grabbed your son's arm, yanking him away from you. "My children will learn to be strong! They will be powerful like their father. They will rule over the surface dwellers like the K'uk'ulkan!" He shouted. Your son began to cry harder in his grip. You hardly recognized your husband. He was like a man possessed. You quickly moved your daughter behind you and unsheathed your dagger from it's hidden place in the folds of your dress. You pointed right at your husband's neck, glaring at him.

"Tu ch'a'ajo'oltaj.....Bejla'e'! (Release him....now!)" You hissed. Surprise flashed across his face for a brief moment before being replaced with a smirk. "Would you kill me, in yakunaj?" Your glare and dagger remained steadily fixed on him. "Let go of our son this instant and I will consider sparing you." You growled. He remained still for a second, the sound of your children sniffling was the only sound to be heard in the room. Finally, your husband released your son slowly, raising his hands in surrender. Your son ran back over to you. You bent to kiss the top of his head, dagger still prepared to defend him. "Take your sister and leave us. I will find you later. Go now, my darlings." You gently demanded. Your son wasted no time in grabbing his sister's hand and running quickly from the room.

"Well that was something, in reina (my queen). I did not think you would ever turn your weapon on me." "I did not think I would ever have to. But when you threaten our children, I will not hesitate, Namor." He flinched like you had burned him. "Am I your enemy now, in yakunaj?" He growled, baring his teeth like a wild animal. "You tell me, K'uk'ulkan?" You replied, venom present in your tone.

With lightning speed, he flew at you. He knocked your dagger from your hand and pushed you against the wall. His mutant strength kept you pinned there, despite your struggling. His smirk grew wider on his face. "You look so beautiful when you are fiery like this, in reina. The surface people would tremble in fear if they could see you like this." You huffed and struggled harder against him. "I don't think so, my love. You threatened the king. That is a crime and you will be punished."

His knee shoved between your legs, forcing them apart. You moaned as his lips attacked your neck "So...me threatening your life turns you on?" You spat, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing his touch was working on you. "It is your passion and fierceness that make me like this, my princess. You should know by now I love to see you like that." You rolled your eyes both in annoyance and pleasure as his thigh pressed against your clit. "I can feel you getting wet for me, in reina. Just give in to me, let me take you like this." He murmured against your skin. His hands released yours and slid down to your hips.

You let out a harsh growl as your grabbed his face and pulled it yours. His hands quickly flew back up and tangled in your hair. Shivers ran down your spine as he scratched his fingers on your scalp. You lifted your skirts up, giving you access to your wetness. Wasting no time, his fingers were inside you as he sucked on your neck. He groaned as your nails dragged down his back. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hips keeping you pressed up against the wall. "Inside me, in ajawo". (my king) You demanded, pushing down his green shorts. "As you wish, in reina."

The two of you cried out loudly as he pushed fully inside you. You held onto him tight as he set brutal pace. Your breasts bounced in his face and he couldn't stop himself from burying his face in them. You moaned his name as he filled you, hitting the right spot with every stroke. "Ohhh yes, my K'uk'ulkan! Take me!" You cried, pleasure coursing through every part of your body. His smirk was back on his face when you looked at him. "You sound so beautiful giving me orders, in reina. Do I make you feel good?" He moaned. You nodded fast and pulled at his hair, crying out a "Yes!"

Your orgasm was fast approaching and you barely had time to alert him before it was crashing over you in waves of ecstasy. He put you down as you were coming down from your high. You felt him pressing on your shoulders, pushing you to your knees. You huffed at him, wanting him to finish inside you. "You are still getting punished, in reina. I will finish inside you, but not there." He grinned, baring his teeth. Getting the hint, you sat up on your knees and let your mouth fall open. He placed the tip of his cock on your tongue and held your hair as you went to work on him. You took him as far in as you could, tasting yourself on him. His head fell back as you ran your tongue up and down his length. "I'm so close, princesa. Don't stop..." He rasped. You stroked and sucked him harder until he let out a loud moan and bucked into your mouth. You felt his warm cum spilling down your throat and swallowed all of it down.

When you thoroughly cleaned him up, he joined you on the floor and pulled you to him. "I apologize for my behavior, in yakunaj. The threat of the surface dwellers has terrified me. I do not wish to lose you, or our children, or our people." You sighed and laid your head on his chest. "I think you had better apologize to our children for scaring them. They should not have to live in fear of you when you get stressed." You stood and fixed your clothes. You began walking out of the room before turning back and flashing your husband a similar grin to the one he had given you earlier. "And you would be wise to remember, my king, that if you do that again I will not hesitate to stab you."

You ducked from the room leaving a shocked but aroused Namor sitting on the floor, reminded of exactly why he had married you.

#namor smut #namor x reader #namor x reader smut #namor the sub mariner #kukulkán #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan smut

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mrswint3rs · 4 months

Note

can you do another bela dimitrescu smut fic (if you want to ofc) your last one was awesome sauce 🙏🏾

Guilty Pleasure

pairings- MODERN AU Bela Dimitrescu x Fem! Reader

summary- despite feeling guilty about going behind your best friends back, you can’t fight the urge to see Bela again.

a/n- TY FOR THE ASK <3 hope you enjoy

NSFW WARNING : contains- spanking, vaginal sex w a strap on, oral sex, fingering, throat fucking, gagging, dacryphillia kinda, implied getting caught at the end

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You felt a rush of guilt sweep over you as your mind was reminded of the last time you saw your best friend's sister. Despite her cold demeanor with almost everyone else, you always felt like she had a soft spot for you, and you yearned for her attention.

You knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't help but long for her touch on your skin. She was everything you would ever dream up in a perfect woman, and more. She was an enigma, a walking mystery, that you couldn't help but want to unravel. You wanted to know every secret about her, to learn every quirk or habit she had.

You knew that your longing for Bela was wrong, yet it seemed impossible to deny your primal urges. You kept replaying those special moments in your head, the moments you shared together. You craved that rush of adrenaline, the feeling you had when she claimed you, leaving you wanting more.

You finally decided to bite the bullet. You were too weak to resist the siren's call, to resist the allure of Bela Dimitrescu. You wanted to feel loved, to be comforted, to feel that sense of belonging once again. And you knew that only Bela could offer that kind of comfort, that kind of love, that kind of belonging.

So you went back, back to the place where it all began, back to the woman that haunted you, back to Bela Dimitrescu.

As you entered Bela's domain, her eyes lit up. She looked surprised but happy to see you. "Well, look who it is," she teased. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about little old me."

She strolled over to you, her movements so graceful and mesmerizing that you felt yourself blushing. "How have you been, little one? Missing me?," she asked, obviously knowing the answer already.

You opened your mouth to speak but all your words caught in your throat. You were at a loss for words, the sight of Bela was too much for your flustered brain to bear. "I...I..." you mumbled.

Bela chuckled, her eyes sparkling with delight as she took your hesitation as a sign of your clear interest in her.

You took in her lush curves, her captivating gaze, the way her hair flowed like silk, and the way she made you feel all warm and tingly inside. "I can't stop thinking about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I've missed you, too," she purred, her golden eyes glinting with mischief. "You've been gone for far too long, I think it's time you made it up to me."

"Come," Bela invited playfully, her hands resting gently on your shoulders as she pulled you into her bedroom. As you stepped inside, the room was filled with sensuality, the scent of her perfume and burning candles. Bela turned to face you and drew closer, slowly untying the belt of her corset.

"I've got a new toy..." she whispered again, her breath hot against your ear. "I'm eager to try it out."

As Bela unzipped her corset, her soft blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders, framing her face in a sensual halo. She pulled the corset down and revealed her pale, perfect skin, her curves so soft and voluptuous that it was hard to resist. You couldn't resist the way your body responded to Bela's sensuality, the way your breath hitched and your heart beat faster. As she revealed more and more of her body, taking off one article of clothing after another, you desperately tried to maintain your composure.

You couldn't help but shiver as Bela began to unlace your shirt not wasting any time, her lips grazing your throat as she caressed your skin. The way she touched you, the way her body graced yours, made your breath catch in your throat and your heart ache with want. You felt like you were drowning in her beauty, in her sensuality, in her touch.

She unbuttoned your shirt next, slowly, tantalizingly, letting the item fall to the ground, revealing your braless state.

Her breasts press plush against yours, perky and soft, as she then turned her attention to your pants, unzipping them and letting them hang low on your hips.

Bela looked deep into your eyes, smiling as she observed your reactions, as she observed the power she held over you. She pulled your pants off completely and gently eased you onto the bed.

Crawling towards you, her eyes locked on yours, her face filled with desire. She began to softly bite your neck, marking as she worked her way down your body. Fingers teasing and caressing your nipples making you all the more sensitive.

She backed away slightly, her fingers trailing down your chest, your stomach, your thighs, as she left a trail of kisses behind her. She reached into a drawer on the bedside table and pulled out a small box, which she held out in front of you.

"Open it," she said playfully, placing the box in your hands and gently guiding your fingers towards it. You examined it closely, considering what it could possibly be. "Is this what I think it is?" you asked.

"Go on, open it." She urges. Opening the box hesitantly, you reveal a low rise strap on, decently large in size.

Taking it back into her own hands, she positions it on herself as if testing the waters. "Well? Think you'll like it?"

"I'll take anything you're willing to give me." you reply.

Bela grins, stepping into the harnessed toy, firmly adjusting it to her hip size. "That's my girl. You know just the right things to say don't you?" she praises, standing before you. "Why don't you come down here, get this ready for you."

Immediately you drop down to her carpet, resting on your knees. Opening your mouth, you take the firm rubber toy into your mouth, using your tongue and saliva to lube it up. Looking up to her for approval.

Bela makes a makeshift ponytail of your hair, firmly grasping and thrusting forward, forcing her way down your throat without warning, making you gag. She loved seeing the uncontrollable tears that formed in your eyes. She was sadistic that way.

"Breathe through your nose baby," she coos, pumping her hips, fucking your throat in full force.

The plump tip repeatedly triggers your gag reflex, making pornographic and slushy noises.

Her hand keeps its strong hold on your head, pushing you down against her. Your face rests against her freshly shaved mound holding in the full length of the dildo.

A choking gasp escapes you as she pulls your head back, continuing to hold you by your hair. Panting for air, you drool onto yourself.

"What a mess you are, so beautiful. I think it's nice and slick enough for your needy little hole." Cruelly she lifts you up onto the bed, turning you around bending you over, and pressing your face down into her silky bed sheets.

Face down, ass up, she plunges her length into your drenched pussy. "Hnnng f-fuck!" your fingers desperately grasp at her bed for support.

"Opening up so nice," she taunts, her palm lifting to roughly slap your ass. "That feel good baby?" Her hips ram into you, poking and prodding at your sweet spot without fail. Your voice only comes out in pitiful cries. Another cruel slap to your ass. "I asked a question sweetheart," bela grins, "do you want me to spank your ass red?"

"N-no," you whimper into the fabric, "feels s' good please don't stop..."

"That's better. Good girl" You let out a squeal as she continues to destroy your tight cunt, stretching you to her desired size. Your pussy squelches at each pump of her hips, the fat of your ass jiggling against her each time she rams into you. The angle making your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

"Gonna cum bela...mnn god..." you babble, feeling the tightness in your core about to explode. Her pace continues all the same, chasing your high.

"Cum all over my cock baby," she demands, fully submerging in and out of your needy hole. Every time she slightly pulled out, you tighten as if sucking her back in subconsciously. The rubbery tip reaching into your untouched depths, forcing you into your climax. "That's it..." bela praises. Your legs tremble as you convulse, creaming deliciously on her toy. Knuckles turned white from gripping her bedsheets so tightly. Slowing her thrusts, she slips out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing.

Bela peers down at you, taking in the sight of your pussy glistening with your juices, dripping onto her bed once more. "Look so pretty right now," she breathes, genuinely adoring you in your fucked out state. "But I think it's my turn now, yeah?" You recall her previous promise. That you'd be able to please her the next time.

Catching your breath and pulling yourself together you stand, trading places with her now on the bed in your stead. Slipping her out of the harnessed strap on and revealing her pretty goods. She was soaked. Clearly thoroughly enjoying fucking you.

Lowering yourself to your knees again, your mouth gets to work. Licking and sucking at her pussy, her voice sounds sweetly, turning you on like never before. Your tongue laps up her juices, swallowing her taste. "Mnn...good, that's good baby."

Gliding over her sensitive nub, repeatedly licking in pattern, she moans. You kept going, trying every spot to find which made her feel best. Which spots made her voice come out louder. It was music to your ears, knowing you were successfully pleasuring her how she deserved.

The sharpness of he nails dig into your scalp as she grips your hair again, uncontrollably trying to pull you in deeper. Hips bucking into you and thighs suffocating you. You loved it all. The wet sounds of your slurping, her panting.

You take two fingers, slipping into her wetness and curving up to rub over her G spot.

Bela 's back arches, "Fuck yes, right there..." you can feel the way her walls throb against your digits. You could tell she was close. You, yourself were breathing heavily, the heat making you sweat.

Her voice reaches a beautiful octave as she cums, squirting all over your face. You suckle and lick at her clit for as long as she can bare, forcing out every bit of her orgasm before pulling away breathless. Face soaked in her sweet honey.

Before either of you could say anything, Cassandra's voice alerts you both.

"Bela? you home?" she calls out, your heart drops to your stomach.

mlist

#bela dimitrescu #bela x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #re8 village #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil x reader #smut #fem reader #fanfiction #modern au #forbidden romance

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drunkenskunk · 4 months

Text

Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!

It is entirely possible that you have noticed: I love Warhammer 40k. At the same time, I hate Warhammer 40k... okay, hate is probably the wrong word, but let me explain.

40k is one of my favorite sci-fi settings because it is, hilariously, one of the few that actually manages to get the scale of Outer Space right. Most sci-fi writers have no sense of scale, but 40k is somehow able to convey the unimaginable, incomprehensible, terrifying vastness of Outer Space correctly.

Granted, I think it does this entirely on accident, because everything in 40k is exaggerated beyond the point of absurdity. The scale of everything is massive, every number has several zeros tacked onto the end of it, travelling anywhere takes months, years, even decades, and... that's just how Outer Space is. You can't exaggerate on what is already functionally infinite.

As a result, 40k as a setting has an enormous amount of potential. No matter how much we see of the Warhammer galaxy, we will only ever see a bare fraction of it, and there is always going to be more - and stranger - stuff hidden in pockets of the galaxy that has slipped entirely beneath notice for decades, if not centuries. Or even millennia!

But here's the problem I have. All of this potential? It is almost always completely wasted by Games Workshop. Nearly every single time, GW ignores the massive amount of potential in the setting they created, in order to focus on boring shit that nobody cares about like even more fucking space marines. It's infuriating.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no better example of this in the entire setting... than the Tau Empire.

The Tau annoy me, but not for the reasons you think.

The most common complaint I see leveled against the Tau is that they are the "good" guys, and that they don't fit into the Grim Darkness of the Grim Dark far future of Grim Dark. This is untrue. Moreover: it was never true. Even when they were introduced in 2001 with their first codex during 3rd edition, they were not good guys.

I've always held the suspicion that people saw things like their catchphrase "The Greater Good" and they read things like "the Tau are not overtly hostile," and took all of that entirely at face value, because a sizeable chunk of this fucking fandom has no media literacy skills.

It still amazes me that Warhammer 40k - a game physically incapable of subtlety - has fans that miss the blatantly obvious.

Before I get to my main point, let's clear the air on something right now: the Tau are bad guys, just like all the other factions in 40k.

If you were to place the Tau in any other science fiction setting, they would be a terrifyingly evil authoritarian space hegemony, with a firmly held belief of "Manifest Destiny" and constantly expanding the borders of their imperial holdings through the use of dirty tricks, illegitimate treaties, and good old fashioned military adventurism spurred on by their vast military industrial complex.

Yes, the Tau typically engage in diplomacy first, but that's usually only to establish a casus belli to claim the moral high ground in a conflict because the Tau are obsessed with appearances and love to play the Long Game. Yes, the average standard of living in Tau space is higher than the Imperium, but that's not a high bar. The Tau have a rigidly enforced caste system, and you can imagine how they deal with their "client races" who might disagree with that and even other Tau who refuse to fall in line.

Or have we all forgotten about Commander Farsight?

... I feel like I may have gotten a bit off track.

Okay, so: the simple reason the Tau annoy me is because there was a whole lot of potential there, and all of it has been completely wasted because Games Workshop doesn't seem to understand what made them interesting in the first place.

See, when the Tau were introduced in 2001, it was quickly established in the first codex that the only reason they even managed to make it to the "present" of 40k was due to a series of accidents that allowed that particular scrap of nowhere to slip beneath everyone's notice.

But here's the thing: we didn't really need that excuse. Every time we see maps of Tau space, it's always zoomed in to such an extent that it looks much bigger than it is... because, unlike every other faction, you can't have a full map of the galaxy that only focuses on the Tau, because it's always just a pinprick.

My personal favorite of these maps is the one from the 5th edition rulebook, but it's common with all of them.

To put this into better perspective: Tau space is almost always described as a sphere about 300 light years in diameter, which is roughly the same size as "The Bubble," the cluster of human worlds centered around Sol, in Elite Dangerous.

And that, right there, is why the Tau should be interesting, at least to me. They represent what could exist in the hidden parts of the Warhammer galaxy that slips beneath everyone's notice because SPACE IS BIG. The Imperium of Man may technically cover the entire breadth of the Milky Way galaxy, and "hold" a million worlds... but there are 100 BILLION stars, and even more planets besides, in a galaxy that stretches 100 thousand light years from end to end.

That is A LOT of Outer Space that could hold any number of secrets and weird alien species that nobody would know about until somebody accidentally stumbles on them.

The Tau could have - should have - been a jumping off point, allowing Games Workshop to make the setting feel even bigger and far more strange than it already does. The Tau could've been the template for introducing "pocket empires" to the setting: smaller xenos armies that people could use in skirmishes, but without entertaining the illusion that they have the military projection power to stand up to the other factions on an appreciable strategic scale for an extended period of time.

And yet...

It fees like Games Workshop consistently misunderstands what should make the Tau interesting. Every new codex, every new edition, it feels like we get more and more of GW trying to be like "No, no! The Tau can definitely stand toe-to-toe with the Imperium of Man! They build tall rather than wide, and are ABSOLUTELY a threat to the Imperium, we promise!" when in reality the only reason the Tau are even still here is because the Imperium always has bigger problems to deal with.

There was the bit I mentioned earlier, where the Tau were initially saved after they discovered fire due to a mixture of freak warp storms and the Age of Apostasy causing the records to get lost. The Damocles Crusade ended in the Imperium's withdrawal because of the imminent arrival of Hive Fleet Behemoth. The Third Sphere Expansion was only successful because Failbbadon Abbadon launched the 13th Black Crusade at the same time on the other side of the galaxy, blew up Cadia, and split the galaxy in half with the Cicatrix Maledictum. Every single time the Tau do anything, a much bigger threat always shows up, and causes everyone to forget about the Tau until they inevitably go back to poking the monster.

Like, I know it's GW doing this, but sometimes it feels like Tzeentch is secretly pulling strings behind the scenes to specifically ensure the continued survival of the Tau, for no other reason than simply because the Changer of Ways thinks its funny.

And that's not even talking about how they've slowly morphed into The Gundam Faction.

Like, it used to be that the Tau Empire was supposed to be this big conglomeration of many different alien races all working together. And there are token mentions of that in the 9th edition codex, with a big list of names largely devoid of context. But as soon as you see these guys in action on the tabletop, it's immediately clear what they're about. You only ever see Tau, and you only ever see Big Robots.

Which... it's not bad, the model range looks great, don't get me wrong. But it still feels slightly disappointing, when you think about what we could have had.

I love Warhammer 40k.

But I also hate Warhammer 40k.

Because I see all this potential... and, inevitably, I see it squandered.

And it frustrates me to no end.

#Warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #40k #wh 40k #Tau Empire #T'au #tau #Grim Dark #In the Grim Darkness of the Grim Dark far future of Grim Darkness there is only Grim Dark #Drunk Skunk Rant #wasted potential

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hischierswhore · 1 year

Text

failed dates

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: minor cursing // disrespectful guy who doesn’t understand what ‘no’ means

You were currently sat alone at a table for two at some fancy restaurant, whose name you couldn't remember. The other people around you seemed to be occupied with their dates, reminding you that yours had once again failed miserably.

The guy you were on a date with started by flirting with you heavily, then immediately becoming belligerent when you rejected his advances. You continued on with the date, as you thought that maybe he deserved a second chance. But you couldn't have been more wrong.

Things only got worse from there, with him continuing in his attempts to persuade you to accept his advances. By the time you'd finished dinner, he was in full blown argument mode after you repeatedly rejected his advances. He clearly wasn't used to rejection, and it stung his ego a little bit.

By the time the evening was over, you felt absolutely no desire to give him another opportunity. He continued to speak some nonsense you were blocking out, but you quickly focused when you heard him say "I can't wait to have you in my bed tonight". That was your final straw.

"Excuse my language, but who the fuck do you think you are? I believe that I've made myself very clear that I don't want to sleep with you, or anything of the sort. If you can't handle this level of rejection, then I suggest you stop wasting my time." You replied, glaring back at him before getting up to leave.

"Find yourself a new ride" He spat as he walked out of the building and drove off. You mentally cursed as you realized that maybe having him drive you to the date wasn't a good idea. You sat back down, realizing you had nowhere to go. You thought about calling Uber, but you didn't necessarily feel like paying god knows how much for a ride, so you called the only person you could think of.

"Hello?" His voice was raspy on the other end of the line.

"Oh, you were asleep. Neverm-" He cut you off.

"No, I'm awake. What's up?" He attempted to make himself sound as awake as possible.

"I wanted to see if you could pick me up? My date left me stranded at that restaurant you usually go to for team dinners" You heard motion in the background as you spoke.

"I'll be there in 10" He assured you before hanging up. Ten minutes later, you heard someone calling your name. You looked around and saw that Christian, your best friend, had arrived to take you back home. He made eye contact with you and rushed over to your table.

"There you are. You ready to leave?" You nodded as he grabbed your jacket from your hands and held it for you. He held his arm out for you to hold onto as you walked back to his car, which you kindly accepted. You made your way to his car, with him opening the door for you, which was something he's done since the day the pair of you met.

As you settled into the passenger seat and he settled into the driver's seat, you felt like he had a question to ask.

"So what happened with this one?" He was used to you going on terrible dates by now, but this was the first in which you'd called him to pick you up.

"He was just so disrespectful. Kept trying to make advances towards me, which I rejected multiple times, but he wasn't getting the hint" You sighed as you leaned your head on the window, staring out into the busy London night life.

After a moment of silence, you looked over at Christian, only to find his grip on the wheel tighter than ever before.

"He definitely sounds like an asshole" He mumbled as he continued driving.

"Yeah, nothing special about him. At least I'm in better company now than I was before" You joked, always finding light in situations like this.

"I'm just glad you're okay though" He moved his other hand to yours, gently caressing the back of your hand. It was interactions like this that made you love him more than any other friend, because you knew that he genuinely cared about you.

The rest of the ride back to your apartment was silent, soft music playing in the background to fill the silence, though it was a comfortable silence.

A few minutes later, when you arrived to your apartment, you & Christian both stayed in his car for a bit longer. You sensed there was a bit of tension in the air, though you couldn’t figure out why.

“Can I ask you something?” Christian spoke up, with you letting out a quiet ‘mhm’ in response.

“Why do you keep going on these dates with such, excuse my language, shitty guys? What are you looking for in a guy that you can’t seem to find anywhere?” He looked at you and noticed you were fidgeting. You felt his eyes burning into you as you hesitated, not feeling quite ready to reveal the truth to your best friend.

“I’ve been trying to find you…” You mumbled just above a whisper, hoping he didn’t catch it.

“What was that, princess?” His hand continued to gently trace circles on the back of yours in an attempt to calm you down.

“I said I’ve been trying to find you, Chris” You sighed as you looked up to meet his eyes, though you noticed his eyebrows were raised and he had a look of confusion written across his features.

“I don’t understand”

“This whole time I’ve been trying to find someone like you. Someone who’s sweet, caring & just makes me feel comfortable in their presence. Someone who makes me laugh and allows me to be myself, but no one compares to you. I’ve been trying to find these things in someone, but you’re the only one, Chris. I never said anything because I didn’t want to mess up what we have; I can’t risk losing you” You moved your gaze back down to your lap, where your fingers went back to fidgeting.

“You could never lose me, princess. You’re stuck with me forever. Never in a million years did I think you would say that to me, but I’m glad you did. I’ve been watching you go on these failed dates and wondering when it’ll be my turn. Wondering when it’ll be my turn to show you how you deserve to be treated. And you’re telling me now that it’s always been me?” He questioned, to which you mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as you nodded.

He gently grabbed the side of your face as you brought yourself closer to him, your lips making contact as you shut your eyes, melting into the kiss. It was a rather gentle kiss, but it was soft and sweet, perfect for the moment. You felt him smile against your lips, leading you to smile as well. The kiss lasted for a while, both of you pulling away as you both needed air.

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment.

“I love you, Y/n” Christian whispered.

“I love you too, Chris”

~~~~

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@ithinkimokeei @myheartgoesvroom @mounthings @tall-tanned-tattoo @itsnotgray @alwaysclassyeagle @charlewiss @pianoisland @chelseagirl98 @lovelynikol16 @username-envy @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @thoseboysinblue @swimmingismywholelife @neverinadream

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playboifenty · 8 months

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╰┈➤*.⋆🎬 ❝ 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅?

🩷 • 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐳 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 headcanons!

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🎧 ⋆ NOW PLAYING: WHAT YOU HEARD ━ SONDER. 🎶

―🌟TAGS ! fluff, angst, toxicity, hurt/comfort ish. 🎞 SUMMARY: ❛ fuck yo mind up, waste time. ❜ high hopes, unrealistic dreams, empty promises, and bottles of expensive ass champagne is the foundation of the relationship between the two. ⋆ ★ w/c: 1.1k . . . . . ☢ content warnings: a lilllll teeny tiny bit (a lot a bit) of toxicity... (its brent idk what you expected), comfort if you squint n bend your morals a bit, suggestive-ish themes, brent is a lil sassy cause why tf not, use of the n word, and ermm..lmk if i missed anything else!! ― 🔖 one , two .

ʚ 𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 ! 👁️‍🗨️

omg, omg, omg, hiii!!!! this is like..my first fic on tumblr and my first piece of writing in a whileee, but i wanted to write something cause i kinda sorta have nothing on my account 😭. and this fic lowkey has like a toxic relationship in mind for their relationship but its not overly toxic. (i understand the whole media for impressionable audiences thing but just scroll past it if you not fw it, relaxxx.) so this is just a lil sumn for and to get the hang of things, so let me know if you like it!! feedback is definitely appreciated, but not harsh feedback cause im lowkey sensitive 🥲. i also do not condone, romanticize, or encourage toxic, abusive, or unhealthy relationships!! this is purely just a work of fiction. enjoy!

It started off with a few stolen glances and a sudden gift disguised as a piece of chocolate cake arriving at your table…

“Courtesy of the table across from you.”

And it’s been history ever since.

“I know you seen me looking at you, you know how to grab a nigga’s attention fasho.”

“Mhm, you know you playing wit’ fire right?”

“Fire aint nothing forreal if you know how to handle it.”

He was always finding some way to make you fold and he knew exactly what he was doing too. Stringing you on with quick but sensual kisses, “I gotchu, jus’ be patient.” licking his lips whenever the energy of his heated stares was matched by you, his hands rhythmically rubbing up and down your thighs, his eyes always being locked on you whenever you spoke. . .There was no way in hell you were going to make it out unscathed.

Quick and flirty banter is definitely a pillar in you guy’s relationship, feeling comfortable enough to go back and forth with each other.

“Don’t miss me too much! i’ll see you soon, baby.”

“Dont miss you too much? I’ll be missing you the whole week, ma.”

He loved buying you bracelets and necklaces with his or your name engraved on them, cute lil’ bags he be seeing you eyeing whenever you walk through Chanel, giving you personalized free VIP access to his shows, shit...sending drivers to pick you up and bring you to said shows. And he always made sure you ate and did whatever you needed to do.

“You eat? Nah fuck that, you hungry?”

“...Maybe.”

“...Don’t play with me, y/n.”

Brent is definitely a sweet-heart in the beginning, well...in his own little way. He’s a romantic but not hopeless. He knew how to show you he cared while also not overplaying his part and things would definitely need time to build up into an actual relationship too. You weren’t stupid, you knew that even though you knew him on a deeper level than all the fame and even as far as to say you knew him as Christopher, he’s still gonna Brent Faiyaz at the end of the day. There were still going to be precautions, external problems, internal problems, and then internal problems egged on by the external ones; loving him was going to be anything but easy. But your connection started to change in different ways too, the relationship would start off with lots of excitement and rose-tinted lenses until feelings started growing and shit got serious; you was thinking it was going to give Jackie Brown and a dash of search & rescue baby...but in reality, it's giving what you heard and session 32 😭. (coughs in this nigga has avoidant attachment issues)

As soon as he realized what you two had going on was developing into something deeper, he started getting distant. Missing calls, ignoring texts, even coming up with half-assed excuses for missed dates and blowing you off.

“My bad, I had a lot of shit going on.”

“I was in the studio, you know how it be, y/n.”

“I got too caught up in London, that shit was crazy.”

“You think i could call you back though?”

And soon the arguments came and you two started staying mad at each other for days on end, not even bothering to try and smooth things over like in the beginning of the relationship. It was hard and it gave you a lot of anxiety. You wouldn't say that you felt unsafe perse, but you definitely didn't feel comfortable. “You mean to tell me that you can't answer the fucking phone for three seconds, Chris??” You shouted, frustration built up in your voice and it was obvious that you were fed the fuck up. It didn't help that the man sitting in front of you was quick to roll his eyes and smack his teeth, but what definitely didn't help was his smart-ass mouth. “Ain't nobody tell you to hit my jack and start losing yo shit, y/n. That's the shit that be blowing me.”

“I don’t hear from you for days and you expect me to not get worried? You’re mad at me for giving a fuck about you??”

“Whatever, man.”

The whole thing would just progressively get worse as you two went back and forth. you saying petty shit while he just dismissed your feelings until he decided that he would just tell you shit you wanted to hear so the situation would be deaded.

“I’m sorry, y/n...” he’d say soothingly in your ear, massaging your hips in circular motions as you’d lay your head on top of his chest, close to where his heart beats. “You know I be missing you like crazy. you can't stay mad at me for too long, baby.” and he was right. This routine repeated and repeated itself over and over again until he stopped ‘comforting’ you and just seemingly stopped caring altogether.

“Nah bro, you tweakin’.”

“Okay, y/n. stop calling my phone then, problem solved.”

“And you swear you don’t see how your point doesn’t make sense?”

“You got it, y/n.”

With time, you two just broke away from each other, but never ended things officially. It went from short brief phone calls to text messages and eventually, those stopped too. A hole was left in your chest and you couldn’t help but feel as if you wasted your time, continuously punishing yourself because you gave out a part of yourself you won't get back ━ but you couldn’t help but miss him. You’d find yourself compensating for his absence, making two plates of everything, migrating to his unspoken side of the bed, never taking the flowers he got you out of the vase you put them in; even though they long withered away. “I can't believe this nigga got me out here wasting food, groceries are expensive...Eggs are almost four fucking dollars! I can't do this shit, I need to get a grip and be fucking forreal.”

But let's not pretend he didn’t find himself trying to make sense of your absence, too.

⋆ ⤏ FINAL WORDS ! 📢 honestly this doesn't feel like it's 1k+ words but it is 😭. i'm so tired chile and i start school in 4 hours. i'm actually content with how this came out, fw it!!

PART TWO COMING SOON.

📸 TAGS !

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