#Don't you worry though my 5 followers
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
no-thanks-im-goof · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
In honor of Gotham City Sirens month coming to a close,
Here's a drawing I did of Catwoman suplexing Batman into oblivion,
If that's not true love then I don't know what is 😢
27 notes · View notes
icewindandboringhorror · 2 years ago
Text
I think the hardest thing in writing for me sometimes is the like “show don’t tell/let people communicate through subtext/Normal People don’t just walk around openly explaining their motivations for everything That’s Unnatural” thing because like.. I literally DO walk around openly explaining my motivations for everything, that is how I talk, I am an analytical detail oriented over-communicator who explains everything as thoroughly as possible and and will give a fully detailed 2 minute long answer to something simple like “how are you doing today?” .. like it’s hard to make things sound Natural and Normal when you yourself are inherently unnatural and abnormal in your methods of communication to an extent lol
#''hey. whats up? you look kind of sad.. is something wrong?''   normal answer (apparently how people are supposed to talk): *looks away#remosefully and stares into the distance* ''n-no.. I'm fine. don't worry about it.''   abnormal answer (how I would respond): ''Yeah I#'m mostly fine. I was just thinking about what the future is going to be like 30 years from now and if I'll ever actually accomplish anythin#g that I want to. which makes me feel X way for XYZ reason. you see because I had a dream last night that made me think of *continues to exp#lain my exact emotional state and inner thought process completely matter of factly in exact detail for 5 more minutes*#tfw you would be a badly written character if you existed in a story lol#This is also why I struggle making conflict because most conflicts can be resolved through conversation and I personally love to have long#detailed conversations about everything. Like literally I don't have hardly any conflicts interpersonally because if something happens it's#immediately followed up with like ''hey sorry if my tone of voice sounded a bit pointed or harsh. when you were talking to me I was trying#to balance all the stuff I was taking up the stairs and also my leg hurts so I think all my mental energy was being used there and I just#didn't feel like talking. I should have just said 'wait a minute and we can discuss it inside' instead of trying to end the conversation qui#ckly in a short rude way.' ''oh yeah thats fine. I thought it was something like that. sorry for hounding you about the topic as well. i#havent eaten in a while so I think I'm just a bit prickly at the moment. we should both rest for a while and destress from the store#trip and then talk about it later. maybe after lunch?' 'sure. sounds good.' like LITERALLY. lol#it is so hard for me to write characters who are bad communicators or don't understand their own internal states or arent constantly#analyzing their own actions to understand what they do/don't feel and why and what the cause of it is and etc. etc. etc.#I just naturally want everyone to perfectly undertsand everything and communicate amazingly and have complete self awareness and#logical presence of mind gjhbj.. which like.. of course comes across as unnatyural and also those type of people rarely ever get involved in#conflict and conflict is APPARENTLY what drives stories (even though I don't like most conflicts and just want to resolve them lol) so ...aa#I mean you can get around this to some degree by the fact that (at least in my opinion) no rule for dialogue is 100%. dialogue is good if it#sounds naturally like it comes from the character who said it. It can be meandering and pointless and rambly IF that matches the character.#it can be dry and overly self aware IF your character is that way and it suits them. So like throwing in a few detached scholar types or lik#e '5000 year old cave dwelling hermit' type people is good for me and works BUT the thing is an ENTIRE cast of characters can't be that way.#at some point - even in a setting where everyone is reserved and academic (like a research camp in the wilderness full of scholars and stuff#) still SOMEBODY has to be the one who's conflict prone and doesn't pristinely understand all of their emotions and etc. etc. Because statis#tically that is still literally the majority. Kind of like my tendency to make everyone 100% aromantic and asexul when it's like.. YES.. may#be 2 or 3 or even 4 out of 10 of them could be that way. but like.. an entire group? a diverse group of 10 people from all walks of life and#EVERY single one is like that??? hgjh . you have to add realistic variety#As much as I'm pro 'have more stories where sex or romance are literally NOT involved at all in any capacity since it's already oversaturate#d in media' I'm also dedicated to realism. alas. (at least as realistic as you can get in a fantasy setting lol)
20 notes · View notes
taasgirl · 13 days ago
Text
i like me better - franco colapinto
summary: franco and driver!reader seem to be getting closer, through their shared social media interaction. once y/n gets her first fp1 drive, everything falls into place.
a/n: everything is fictional, and there is no face claim! enjoy :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and 563, 982 others ynusername trading four wheels for two this weekend 😉
mercedesamgf1 Please get off the bike y/n
lilymhe IS THAT A BABY Y/N PIC I SEE
ynusername hehe maybe
landonorris I know toto died seeing you post this liked by ynusername
motogp Fancy a weekend with us?
ynusername OH MY GOD I THOUGH YOU'D NEVER ASK team_toto_wolff No Y/n.
lewishamilton 🩷
ynusername hey dad!
Tumblr media
liked by francolapinto, oscarpiastri, and 3, 872, 440 others landonorris Summer break you will be missed
danielricciardo Mate you're so ugly
landonorris Smd old man
mclaren Pls tell us that you didn't actually go dirt biking
landonorris Don't worry I was with y/n mclaren That makes it worse
ynusername I'm on a mission to take the whole grid on a dirt biking adventure, who's next bitchessss
francolapinto Me me me I volunteer landonorris Someone's eager 😏
view ynusername's story...
Tumblr media
caption: track limits at turn 7 stewards go get their asses
Tumblr media
liked by francolapinto, lewishamilton, and 711, 923 others ynusername excited to take lewis' car out for a spin in fp1 #justiceforreservedrivers
lewishamilton Don't pull a Kimi
kimi.antonelli What the hell Lewis
landonorris awww baby y/n
landonorris Still hasn't achieved her goals of racing in f1 hehe ynusername just for that i'm running u off track tomorrow xx
francolapinto Congratulations Y/N! I'm excited to see you out there
ynusername thanks franco!!
patriciooward I agree #justiceforreservedrivers liked by ynusername
Tumblr media
liked by ynusername, lewishamilton, and 5, 720, 816 others mercedesamgf1 Celebratory hugs between Y/N and Lewis following Y/N's superb FP1 drive!
tagged: ynusername & lewishamilton
ynusername Maybe like I can replace the dinosaur or something aha...
francolapinto My favourite driver as a child and my favourite driver as an adult together 🤗
ynusername wow thank you franco! landonorris Boy you are NOT slick
lewishamilton The 🐐
lewishamilton And Y/n.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and 142, 674 others ynusername some funny photos from a very fun weekend
francolapinto Come on you post my teammate but not me?
ynusername maybe you should visit me often then 🤷‍♀️
georgerussell63 Is that Toto...
ynusername affirmative
landonorris Trust in y/n to expose the grid hmmm
alex_albon Wow @/georgerussell63 looking sexy
lilymhe Stop hitting on GEORGE
lewishamilton ⭐ liked by ynusername
francolapinto Penalty for eating ice cream during race week
ynusername booooo someone throw tomatoes on him
user53 DOUBLE FRANCO COMMENTS
Tumblr media
liked by alex_albon, ynusername, and 1, 448, 925 others francolapinto Good weekend 😁
tagged: williamsracing & alex_albon
alex_albon Mate does not live up to the hype sorry Franco
ynusername what the actual hell are you doing to that car in the second photo
francolapinto I can show you later if you'd like This comment was deleted
ynusername also you expect me to post you but you don't even post me smh
francolapinto You go first then
landonorris holy shit I saw that comment franco
williamsracing We're pretending that we didn't!
view ynusername's story...
Tumblr media
caption: fine I'll go first @/francolapinto
view francolapinto's story...
Tumblr media
caption: She clearly doesn't like paparazzi
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, paularon, and 2, 630, 727 others francolapinto I might fall off but at least a pretty girl can give me CPR
tagged: ynusername
landonoriss FUCKING FINALY
lewishamilton I'm keeping my eye on you Franco
francolapinto 😅
ynusername awww you think I'm pretty?
francolapinto I'm happy to repeat myself francolapinto You are the prettiest girl I've ever met
williamsracing Please do not fall off
view ynusername's story...
Tumblr media
caption: how is he a formula one driver and still so uncoordinated
how did we like this guys? ALSO why the hell are there no new photos of franco on pinterest like damn. Let me know if you like this and as always reqs are open!
1K notes · View notes
charlotteking23 · 4 months ago
Text
Lost Paddock Pass - MV33/1
Max Verstappen x reader
Summary: You forget your paddock pass so now your being chased by security guards.
Tumblr media
You walked into the paddock wearing a flowy pink dress paired with a Hermes white bag, Louis Vuitton heels, and a white bow in your hair.
Scanning your paddock pass, you walk through the entrance. As expected Paparazzi were already taking pictures of you, probably because you were dating a three-time world champion.
As you walk, you notice Max explaining something to Charles. You quickly sped up your walk before wrapping your arms around Max's waist and hugging him.
"Hi Maxie", you said but it was muffled by your face buried in his chest.
You could feel his chest vibrate in laughter before hugging you back and swaying your body from side to side.
"Hi Liefje, Come on let's go inside", He said bringing your body inside Redbull hospitality not before saying goodbye to Charles.
"Are you ready?" you question to Max.
Today was an important day for Max, it was his home race the Dutch Grand Prix.
"Don't worry Liefje, I will win for you and for my home", Max said reassuringly, he was excited to win in his home race.
Max's whole family was here to support him in his home race. Though you were still iffy about Max's father being here, knowing about Max's past experience with his father was not good.
"Shit Schatz, I forgot my phone in the car...can you go grab it for me please", Max said slightly panicked.
You agreed to grab Max's car keys on the way out. You didn't want to stress out Max more today, He already has a lot on his mind since its his home race..
You quickly left the garage, walking towards the exit of the Paddock before heading towards the driver's parking area. You head towards the parking spot that had Max Verstappen on it, unlocking his car.
You retrieved his phone, smiling at the wallpaper, It was of you and him in cute matching Pajamas sets for Christmas.
You held the phone going towards the paddock, remembering you had to scan back in to go through, you search for the pass through your purse.
"Damn it, I must have lost it in the Paddock...What do I do?" You panicked knowing they won't let you in without a pass. And you couldn't phone Max since you had his phone.
You shyly went up to the security guard, trying to play a conversation in your head on how this would turn out, nothing good.
"Excuse me, sir, I lost my paddock pass, I had already went in today but I quickly had to get my boyfriend's phone from the car," You said shyly while holding up your boyfriend's phone hoping they would let you in.
"No pass, No entre," The security guard said pointing towards the exit sign.
"But um sir, one of the driver's Max Verstappen is my boyfriend", you tried to explain but the security only glanced at you clearly not believing you.
You walked away pouting in defeat trying to figure out how to get in the paddock without a pass.
The only thing you could think of is just to run straight in.
"Okay, You got this", you said to yourself, trying to build up some courage.
You ran straight, stopping to jump over the metal fence before running away. You could hear screams and shouts from the security guards demanding you to stop, even threatening you to be banned from future races.
You bump into someone but not stopping only loudly apologizing, not affording to stop by any means necessary. People quickly moved out of the way seeing you being chased.
You ran as quickly as possible but It's not easy since you're running in expensive heels at that.
You saw fans and paparazzi following you, hoping to get the reason why the security guards were running after you like a criminal.
Already hearing the headline Max Verstappen's girlfriend being chased by guards all because of a paddock pass, sentenced to 5 years in Jail.
You frowned at the thought but quickly your frown turned into a happy one seeing the Redbull garage close by, but the security guards were almost catching up to you.
At the perfect moment, you saw Max walking out of the garage probably looking for you since you have been gone for a while.
In a split-minute decision, when you were close enough you flung yourself straight into Max's arms hiding your face into his chest trying to catch your breath with all that running.
You saw the security guards run up to you, "Sorry Mr. Verstappen for the inconvenience we will escort this girl out".
Max put up his hand stopping the security guards from touching you, "No need, this is my girlfriend", Max said.
The security guards look at you and then at Max before realizing their mistake not wanting to see Mad Max.
The guards apologize to you and Max before walking away. Max then quickly ushers you inside the Redbull garage away from prying eyes.
You quickly gave Max his phone with an awkward smile on your face.
"What happened Liefje?" He said taking his phone before sitting you in his driver's room and giving you a bottle of water.
"Well, I got your phone but lost my Paddock pass somewhere so I tried to explain to the security guard that I knew you and I already came into the paddock. But he denied my entre," You said pouting at the memory.
"So, What did you do instead Liefje," Max said entertained with the story, squishing your pouty cheeks playfully.
"I decided to jump over the metal fence and run towards the Rebull garage but the guards were chasing me until I saw you and flung into your arms," You said hugging Maxie tightly around his waist since you were sitting and he was standing in front of you.
Max just laughs at you, "You had quite an adventure today Schatz".
You grin playfully before taking off your heels massaging it.
"Oh, Liefje it must have hurt to run in those heels, huh", Maxie said before taking your feet and massaging them for you, it felt like heaven.
"Next time, I will give you multiple copies of your paddock pass so you never lose it", Max said jokingly before you also joined in the laugh agreeing it was a good idea.
2K notes · View notes
lynxgriffin · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons
1 | 2 | 3
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...
Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...
Alt text for these pages is under the read more:
Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.
Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.
Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"
Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.
Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.
Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"
Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:
Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.
Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"
Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"
Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"
Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"
Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."
Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."
Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."
Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."
Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."
Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"
Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"
Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."
Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"
Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."
Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."
Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"
Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.
Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"
Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…
Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"
Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"
Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.
Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."
Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."
Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"
Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"
Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.
Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."
Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.
Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."
Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.
Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"
Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.
Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.
Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"
Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"
Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.
Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"
Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."
Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."
Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.
Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"
Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"
Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.
Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."
Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.
Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"
Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.
Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.
Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.
Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…
Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.
Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.
2K notes · View notes
retiredteabag · 2 months ago
Text
soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6
synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.
read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Toji had stayed the night at many women's houses. At some point down the line, he started requesting they order him an Uber or something, but in the beginning, he was hardly at his own place. And for a brief period, when he was in a real desperate situation, he stayed with the women because he didn't have a place of his own.
That's why it's so strange to Toji, to feel apprehensive at staying the night in your home.
You won't even be there, what's it matter? He thought.
But then again, that might be why he's a bit uneasy about the whole thing. You were to be gone three days for a work event. And you had entrusted him with your entire place. He had showered and napped in your house, eaten your food and brought in the mail. He was comfortable to the point it felt like a second (much nicer) home. What he had never done, was stay the night. He certainly hadn't slept in your bed...
You had seemed overwhelmed and uneasy about the situation while walking him through everything. You had been on the opposite side of the kitchen island when you had said,
"I know this is so short notice, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't even supposed to be on this trip, I asked not to go, but the other official called out sick." Your hands made grand and elaborate gestures and your dogs head wobbled as he followed your theatrical hands. "So now, I'm stuck, I have to go." You sounded upset.
"'S not a problem. So, what day does the trash go out, again?" He held back a grin as your shoulders drooped.
"Toji, you're my hero. Thank you. And Wednesday, don't worry if you forget to take it out though."
You had informed him that the dog would probably like it best if he stayed downstairs with him while you were away. Meaning-sleeping in the master bedroom. In your bedroom. On your bed.
Oh...kay...
He shrugged it off as you muttered some, "of course, I'll clean the sheets so don't worry about that..." And explained about the difficult relationship between the dog and the mailman. But he was too caught up in the fact that you were so trusting of him.
There didn't seem to be any uncomfortable air around you, other than your work-related stress around the trip, but you didn't seem to have a problem with this big-ass man spending a few days in at your place.
Toji had lots of appeal, and he had grown to know, the majority of it was sex appeal. And the fact that you clearly had no interest in that aspect of his abilities... made him feel odd. Any time he would throw a compliment at you, you would smile politely, and say something nice about him. Except it was always,
"You're so good at you're job!"
"I'm so glad I can trust you to look after my puppy!"
"I appreciate how efficient you are!"
it made his ears feel hot.
So did the smell of your bedsheets. In fact, your pillowcases had such an effect on him, on that first night you were gone, he found himself rummaging through your things to distract himself.
He meandered through your room, pulling books and sticky notes off dressers and walking through your closet nook. He intentionally did not open any drawers but when he stumbled upon a pair of pajamas lying on a bookcase ladder, he quickly turned around and went to examine the fascinating blanket collection at the foot of your bed.
Staying at your place meant he could sleep in if he wanted to, but that morning he got out of bed earlier than usual. He wasn't going to let his mind wander while lying in the same spot you lay.
He found himself pretending he actually lived in the space. Getting dressed. Feeding the dog. Making breakfast. All in the luxurious home he did not belong in. After some time he realized all of these fantasies included you. He imagined making coffee as you sat across the island, he imagined talking with you, as a normal person, over pancakes, or whatever the hell rich people ate.
Eventually, he had to shake the thoughts from his head as they began to seem too domestic.
One thing that carried throughout the days of your leave, was the photos. You had repeatedly told him to never hesitate to contact you, "And please feel free to send pictures!" So send pictures- he did.
On walks, in the back yard, while booping the dog's nose, after giving the beast a treat. He sent most to you but kept some for himself. You acted as if he was spoiling you with these images of your own canine, the hearted messages and polite, "This really made my day!" stuck with him, when in reality, you were the one spoiling him with how much you had given him for his stay.
Once upon a time, the money he had in his wallet would have already been gone. A real likelihood being that he took the cash and left the dog to fend for itself. Only naive people paid before the service was completed. But he was a different man now. Or so he told himself as he pondered how you must think of him.
You must think highly. To pay so much upfront. You must trust him.
That evening, after walking the dog one last time, he flipped his phone around in his hand while lying down, legs hanging off your mattress. It was late, he was wondering what you were doing and what he should spend his money on when he felt the vibrations of his phone.
He saw your contact pop up and was quick to open the messaging app. What he saw, however, confused him a great deal.
"I would like for you to not involve the police with this. If possible, do keep this event and its handlings between us, I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this."
He sprang up in the bed, his feet planted on the floor as he read and reread your message over and over. Confusion filled him, was this message intended for him? If so, had you discovered something about Toji's past? Or had you mistakenly sent the message to him?
What was this about?
He began to write back, only to stop. He wanted to see if you would alter your text, or confirm your mistake. When you didn't and he could not take it any longer. He responded.
"What event are we discussing?"
Immediately he saw that you had read his reply, and quickly he saw an ellipses appear. It faded quickly. He waited for what seemed like forever, unsure of what to say. "I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this" he knew you had discussed his working for you before with your co-workers before he distinctly told you he wasn't looking for more work.
Sick of all the waiting, he decided to call you. And as soon as the phone rang, it immediately went to voice mail.
Clearly, you had been in a hurry to avoid his call. Unsure of how to proceed, he texted again.
"???"
He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose to pace the bedroom. Finally a message arrived.
"Terribly sorry, that message was intded for my boss. I texted your ontact by mistake."
Toji tried to digest exactly what this meant. He saw the typos in your message and quickly wondered if you had ever been so careless before. He scrolled up to scan previous conversations but decided it was unimportant.
"I see" he began, he wanted to ask what was happening but he knew he wouldn't want anyone prying into him, especially if it involved anything incriminating. He tried to relax himself. Perhaps the comment had nothing to do with him, even so, he decided to call you again to clarify what had just happened.
In a harsh contrast to before, the phone barely had a chance to ring before you picked up. Toji knew he hadn't been thinking straight. But when he saw the call start he realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say. It wasn't but a moment later that he discovered that all of his unanswered questions were irrelevant.
He held the phone up to his ear and heard quick breaths from the other end of the call. What he assumed was a frantic exhale, came out more like a sob as he heard pained whimpers.
"Didn't mean to...sorry about tonight. It was my mistake." You were speaking very slowly, in a calculated sort of way. Still, your voice shook.
Toji was impossibly still as he listened to your voice. "What's going on, y/n?"
That night he would lay in bed, trying to sleep, and realize that this particular moment might have been the first time he used your name intentionally. In the moment, however, he was all too occupied to care. He wanted to come off as gentle and friendly, something he was completely unaccustomed to.
The line went quiet. There was a long pause before a throaty squeak came and a warbled, "...sorry" was heard. Just before the call ended.
Toji began to pace again, he called you once more before he decided that it might be best to not pressure you. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to write a text. But he had nothing to say, he was experiencing confusion and confusion alone.
Turns out, he didn't need to start the conversation again, in your never-ending kindness, you sent, "I'm sorry for all of this, this is a small matter with work at the moment and I did not mean to startle you. I see how it might have come off as concerning. I promise this will not effect you. I'm sorry. Please forget this occurred."
Relief flooded Toji faster than he could question it. So this didn't involve him. But what exactly was happening? He gave your message a thumbs up... but something was still stuck eating at his brain.
"Were you crying just now?" He sent.
He expected a long wait before you responded but, to his surprise you reply was prompt.
"Sorry about that."
And a moment later, "I didn't mean to involve you."
That feeling in his stomach sunk further as he stared at his phone. Unsure of what to say, your dog whimpered at his feet and Toji took a deep breath.
"I wasn't asking for you to apologize" he typed, trying to put his intentions into words. "Are you okay?"
He couldn't remember the last time he had asked someone about their wellbeing. So when you responded,
"Yes. I think so." He found himself slowly walking back to your bed. Staring at the floor as he sat on your comforter. He decided he wouldn't press.
He liked your message.
He laid in your bed.
And he tried to get the sound of your shaky breaths out of his mind.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Next
tags: @sweetpo1son @scorpiosugar @starmapz @toruswrld @your-mum3000 @meow-satoru @animeblr @utarts @roxyyyyy1xx @lilming36 @scandibabeuh @atanasiaaaa @chouzuko @voronii @transsfish @h3llf4iry @lucrea @straewberrysoda @s4m4nth4wrld @storiesbyparadise @pokiona @neiostrike @breenatalle @uwolivia @gothic-fluffycow @luvvmae @justbelljust @voidshoutsback @chaotic-ish @jamzywiththejam28 @definitely-not-leena @kirawyd @kuro-chi69 @smoments @lukabwrry @esmedelacroix @professionalreblogger @yoongluverz @stainednailpolishremover @nappingmoon @lauretsy @noelssprings @bytgefirewbook @koji-ibitsu @wafflefries786 @bearchermer @p1nkfl0wers @sugojosgf @deafeningherofishcash @yeehawbrothers @wil10wthetree @youcantseem3 @poopooindamouf @miakxn @esggs @makosworld @neeshsoodrippedout @momoewn @mooncleaver @avocadomochi @getoisinnocent @femmefatal
taglist is sadly now full! If you ever want to be taken off of the tag list please just let me know :] (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)
689 notes · View notes
evie-sturns · 2 months ago
Text
upset - Chris Sturniolo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: after a terrible day, your best friend chris, always knows how to cheer you up.
contains: flufffff, crying, comforting, teasing, bestfriend!chris, flirty friendship.
-----------------------------------------------------------
my hands shake as i speak on the phone to my boyfriend, well ex boyfriend.
ive been dating noah for the past year, everything had been perfect until today.
he called me 5 minutes ago with no warning, then broke up with me. it was so blunt, he had no emotion to his voice at all.
now i'm left desperately talking to noah on the phone.
"i- i dont understand.. it doesn't make sense noah? c'mon..?" my voice quivers, clutching the phone up to my ear,
"it'll be fine, just move on f'me yeah?" noah speaks, he almost sounds bored.
"why? what is- what's your reason!?" i raise my voice, holding back tears.
"just don't fuck with you anymore sweetheart, i'm sorry." noah says with a small laugh before hanging up.
im in such a state of shock i can't even fully process this.
my first instenct is to call my bestfriend, chris.
"chris! chris please come over right now." i practically burst into sobs as soon i speak, i hear a small gasp from his end before shuffling.
"yeah- yeah! i'm coming right now, ill only be a minute." chris speaks, his voice soft as though hes trying to calm me.
"thank you." i whimper into the phone before hanging up.
---
i hear two soft knocks at my bedroom door, followed by chris's voice.
"can i come in?" he asks, gently twisting my door knob before walking into my bedroom.
im sat cross legged on my bed,
"oh sweetheart." chris sighs, walking over to me and sitting down on the matress infront of me.
"can i have a hug.." i cry,
chris wraps his large arms around me, pulling me to his body.
"whats happing y/n.." chris whispers into my hair, his hand reaching up and stroking my back.
"n-n-noah- noah broke up with me!" i stammer out between hiccups.
i physically feel chris tense, his grip on me tightening slightly.
"im so sorry," chris sighs into my ear, i bury my face into his shoulder.
"he didnt even- even give a warning and he was so mean about it chris!" i choke out,
chris just nods, letting me speak.
"i hate him! i hate him so much!" i cry, my voice breaking.
"i know you do, you hate him don't ya?" chris says softly, stroking my hair.
"i do!" i sob,
"i know it hurts sweetie, i'm right here." chris mutters,
i slowly pull away from his shoulder,
chris gives me a sorry smile, his eyes roaming my face, which is a total wreck.
i have snot running down my face, which chris seems to take amusment to.
he grabs a tissue from my bedside table and holds it up to my nose.
"big blow for me?" chris speaks, then instanltly slams a hand over his mouth with a small 'sorry.'
i crack a small smile,
chris pinches the tissue to my nose, "blow blow blowww"
i pathetically blow my nose into the tissue,
"good girlllll, that’s right." chris smiles,
“let’s get you ready for bed okay? try sleep it off yeah?” chris suggests, staring into my eyes.
i nod, wiping my nose.
he lifts me up off the bed, i flail my legs as i clutch onto his shoulders.
“if you drop me i swear to god!” i attempt to raise my strained voice.
“i’m not gonna drop ‘ya sweet girl.” chris says taking me into the bathroom,
he sets me down on my feet infront of the sink,
i stare at my red, mascara-stained face. only causing more tears to start up,
chris instantly grabs my chin, “shh- shh.” he whispers
“let’s wash your face okay? don’t worry about noah, i promise if he could hurt you this much so easily there’s no point in being upset over him.”
i nod at him,
chris rubs my back, running the cold water.
he stands behind me, slowly tipping my head fowards under the stream of the tap.
he cups water in his hands and brings it up to my face, gently washing away the mascara.
“that feels better doesn’t it.” chris smiles gently, drying my face with his shirt.
i nod, wiping my puffy eyes.
he guides me out into the bedroom,
i slowly shimmy towards him with my arms open, pulling him into a tight hug.
he rubs my back as i bury my face into his shoulder, “you know i love you so much, i’m so sorry he hurt you, you don’t deserve any of it.” chris sighs,
i nod shakily,
“he didn’t know what to do with such a pretty girl like you, i’m sure of it.” chris speaks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
i don’t let him go, holding him tight.
“i know it’s hurting so so much right now, but it’ll get better.” chris says,
i slowly pull away from his chest,
“y-you’re my bestfriend chris, i love you.” i sniff, my voice cracking as i bury my face back into him.
he laughs lightly, “i love you too,”
“are you sleepy?” chris asks, rubbing my back.
i shake my head, “just sad.” i say with a frown.
“do you want to do something to distract you?” chris asks,
i nod, wiping my nose with the back of my hand
“you wanna bake?” he asks,
baking has always been my favourite thing ever, chris knows that.
i nod my head frantically,
he scoops me up off my feet and starts to run down the hallway,
i scream with a loud laugh, clutching him tight, “CHRIS!!”
he grins widely, running me into the kitchen and setting me down on the counter top.
“we’re making cookies i don’t care what you say.” chris chuckles, grabbing out ingredients.
he sets down most of the right ingredients, and grabs a bowl
“not that bowl!! that’s my vomit bowl!” i laugh,
he grimaces with a smile, “stinkyyy”
he pulls out a new bowl and puts it in my lap,
he turns back around and grabs butter, throwing it onto the counter beside me.
i go silent,
suddenly i burst into tears, again.
chris’s eyebrows instantly furrow, he grabs my shoulders, “hey- hey-“ he speaks softly
“i’m sorry- noah- noah used to use that butter to butter my toast every morning.” i sob,
chris picks up the butter,
abruptly chris hurls it across the room into the trash can, with impressive aim.
“then we won’t use butter!” he smiles, wiping my eyes with his buttery fingers.
i crack a smile, before laughing loudly.
he grins proudly at my smile, “there she is!”
i cover my face with my hands as i laugh, “don’t look at me!!”
“i want to look at youuu.” chris smiles, peeling my hands away from my face
i smile at him, “let’s just make the cookies.”
he nods, “good plan.”
he starts to put oil and brown sugar into the bowl,
“oil?” i question,
“i mean it’s basically butter.” he replies,
“fair enough.” i laugh, pouring in the sugar with no measurements whatsoever.
“okay, now flour.” chris says, he grabs the flour back and holds it up to my nose
“sniff it.” he smiles,
i furrow my eyebrows and sniff it,
chris suddenly presses both sides of the back together, causing flour to puff up all over my face.
i gasp, my whole face white, “chris!!!”
he erupts into laughter, bringing his hands up and dusting it off my face.
i’m in total shock before giggling along with him, peeling open my eyes
“you are such a moron!” i laugh, grabbing a handful of flour and slamming it onto his cheeks gently.
he goes to reach for more flour, but i grab his wrist.
he gives me a small pout, clearly trying to hold back a grin.
“okay- cookies!” i smile, pouring the flour into the cookie dough
he mixes it with a wooden spoon, before dumping in half the bag of chocolate chips.
“dude we should just make one massive cookie.” chris states,
i roll my eyes, “chris.”
“pllllleeeaseee.” he grins,
“fine.” i scoff, chris claps.
he grabs all the cookie dough in his two hands and plops it on a baking tray, before punching it several times to flatten it.
“okay- so just put it in for 10 minutes.” i say, chris nods, humming to himself as he pushes the baking tray into the oven.
he shuts the oven door and walks back over to me,
“feeling better?” chris asks, placing a hand on my knee as i sit on the counter.
i nod, “i really am, thank you chris.”
he smiles, “i’m glad, i hate seeing you so upset.”
i wrap my arms around him again, giving him a hug.
-
a couple minutes have passed, chris goes to check on the cookie.
he opens the oven and his jaw drops, a small laugh escaping his mouth.
“bro- it’s like spread across the whole thing.”
chris says, pulling it out of the oven and showing me.
i giggle, “maybe cause we used oil and didn’t measure a single thing”
he pulls a bit off of it and plops it into my mouth.
i grimace, “it tastes funny.”
he tries a bit aswell, “what!! it’s good!”
“it’s gross!!”
“okay, i’ll keep it to myself then.” chris says with a sassy tone
“um.. do you think you could maybe stay over tonight- i mean you don’t have to but i don’t know.” i ramble,
chris smiles, “you wanna have a sleepover with me!!” he claps
i scoff, “yeah.”
he helps me off the countertop onto my feet, grabbing my hand and leading me back to my bedroom.
he sorts through my closet and pulls out a pyjama pair, throwing them at me.
i shake my head with a frown, my eyes watering again.
he pauses,
i start to cry again for the 100th time today,
“that was noah’s pair he bought me.” i sniff,
chris wipes his face, “i’m so sorry.” he groans,
he picks me up, i bury my face into his shoulder.
“no more tears please.” he sighs, wiping my eyes.
i nod, “i’m just sensitive.”
“i know you are, let’s get you into your favourite pyjamas then, how’s that sound?” chris speaks softly.
i nod, chris carry’s me over to my closet and opens my pyjama drawer, letting me pick one.
i pull out a pink pair, my hand shaking.
chris walks me over to the bed and sits me down on the edge,
he crouches down beside me, pulling my jeans off down my legs.
he grabs my pyjama shorts and tugs them up me, a concentrated look on his face.
he tugs off my shirt gently, his cold fingertips grazing over my skin.
he pulls on the baby tee, “how’s that?” he asks,
i sniff, “thank you..”
he turns off the main light and crawls into bed beside me.
he tugs up the sheets over us, pulling me closer to him.
i rest my head on his arm,
chris suddenly lets out a snort, covering his mouth with his hand.
“what’s funny?” i ask with a confused smile,
“just having flashbacks to you with that damn flour all over your face.”
-
@downbad4reid
sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos
@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72
1K notes · View notes
themultifanshipper · 1 month ago
Note
hi babes
can i request some angsty/fluffy fic with oscar and pregnant reader, where she's feeling a little down and overwhelmed with how changed is her body (like with her size or stretch marks, idk) and oscar recomforts her, saying that she's beautiful and she's doing so well..
thankyou, i love your works sm<33
Tumblr media
Warnings: light angst, Oscar being a lil clumsy but sweet, fluff that quickly goes into smutty territory :3 (no actual smut scene though)
Also quick psa, it's very common to get depression during and after pregnancy. It's a very real disease that millions of women battle with. If you feel like you have symptoms of any description, don't keep them to yourself, talk to someone you trust about it and seek help, stay safe out there my dudes <3
This weekend had been rough for you.
Apart from all the obvious pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, which had been really kicking your ass for the past few weeks, it was the other things that were starting to get you down.
Your body had changed, and it felt alien to you. Like it wasn't even your own anymore.
You'd spent hours staring at the stretch marks that covered your stomach, wondering if they would ever fade.
The weight you'd put on made your thighs look massive, and you could already see the signs of your breasts almost doubling in size.
You felt huge, to put it simply.
And your self confidence was in the gutter.
You'd been ignoring Oscar's worried calls and messages while he was away at the Grand Prix, choosing to turn your phone off altogether and wallow in self deprecation.
Oscar was supposed to be getting a jet back on monday night, but he was so worried about you he bought a last minute flight right after the race, to get home to you as fast as he could.
He opened the door to your shared apartment, keys jingling as his hand trembled in his hold.
“Sweetheart?” He called out, once he was finally inside.
There was no answer.
He noticed a faint light coming from the corridor, and he followed it only to realise you had left a lamp on in the bedroom and fallen asleep with the latest book you were reading still in your hand.
He melted at the sight, putting the book on the nightstand (after putting a bookmark in it, he's not a savage) and turned the lamp off before stripping and getting into bed with you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.
He wrapped his arms around you and held you like that, his breathing synchronised with yours until he fell asleep, exhausted from his long day of racing and travelling.
What he didn't know, was that you had been pretending to sleep. You weren't ready to talk to him about what was troubling you because you knew it was stupid and he probably wouldn't take you seriously…
The next morning Oscar woke with a start. The other side of the bed was empty which was odd, you never usually woke up this early and you always cuddled up to him in the morning, putting your perpetually cold feet against his skin to warm them up.
He listened for any activity in the apartment, the coffee machine, the tv… but not a single noise could be heard.
He slid out of bed and went looking for you.
It didn't take long to find you, curled up on the sofa, blanketless and shivering in your sleep.
Oscar whined quietly to himself, what on earth was up with you?
He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and rocked you awake.
“Baby it's 5 in the morning what are you doing on the couch? Come back to bed with me”
You just curled up tighter and hid your face from him. “No it's okay Osc I'm fine here”
He put an arm around you, trying to get you to sit up.
“You're obviously not babe, you're shaking with the cold, let's go cuddle up in bed under the-”
“Oscar I said I'm fine just leave me here!” You protested, wriggling out of his grasp.
“Don't be ridiculous you're freezing out here come on”
“Fuck off! I said I'm fine!” you snapped, and Oscar would have believed you if it weren’t for the way you're voice cracked and a tear rolled down your cheek.
He was so shocked at your outburst he froze, not quite knowing what to say as he noticed how pale you looked and how red rimmed your eyes were.
“Baby…” he put a comforting hand on your hip but you flinched away “Babe what-”
“It's nothing” you said, slightly softer, wiping your tears with the obviously already very damp sleeves of your pyjamas. “It's just the morning sickness and stuff has been really bad and I didn't want to wake you”
Oscar was entirely unconvinced but he didn't push.
“Alright, come to bed with me then, we need to get you warmed up”
You nodded, indeed feeling very cold at the moment and you let him steer you back to your bedroom.
Once you were back in bed with him, he snuggled up behind you and pulled you across the distance you had tried to put between the two of you.
“I love you” he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin.
You didn't reply, and your body was so tense it was a miracle you hadn't pulled a muscle.
After a few seconds a quiet sob wracked your frame and Oscar tightened his hold on you.
“Baby please, tell me what's wrong.” Oscar pleaded.
You sniffled and tried to get your breathing straightened out before answering.
“I just… I don't like how my body’s just- what if it doesn't- I don't want-” your breaths were coming in short as you started getting choked up again.
“Baby slow down. Deep breaths now”
You took a deep breath in.
“I’m scared”
Oscar blinked at the back of your head.
“Of what?”
You sighed.
“That my body is ruined, and that it will never be how it was before… and that you won't like it anymore”
Now that you were saying it out loud, it sounded stupid even to you, but the fear and insecurity was clawing at your insides harder than ever.
“Baby your body is changing for the better, trust me. You're making a baby inside you, that's bound to make some changes. But I love you even more because of them. I love that inside your belly there's a little human that is the result of how much I fucking love you. And I'm going to be with you every step of the way.”
You heaved in a breath “I just- I didn't know it would be this hard…”
He kissed your cheek and stroked your belly under the blanket. “I’m so sorry if I've done anything to make you think I wouldn't love your body no matter what. Your body isn't ruined, baby. You have no idea how much it drives me insane to think of you waddling around our apartment, belly full with my kid”
You turned around to face him with fresh tears in your eyes.
“I want you.” He smiled softly “I want you so fucking much you have no idea.” He kissed your forehead sweetly before pulling you into his arms, adding “I’ll always want you baby, nothing will ever change that”.
You breathed in his comforting scent as you melted into his arms.
“And if you don't believe me…”
He pressed closer to you and you felt him, half hard against your hip.
“… let me prove it to you”
One of his hands trailed down to where your ass filled out your shorts a bit more than it used to.
“This body…”
He kissed your neck, then lowered himself down to your where your nipples were visible through the material of your thin sleep shirt.
“... is a masterpiece…”
He kissed lower and lower until he got to the waistband of your shorts
“ and it's all. Fucking. Mine.”
He growled as he dipped his hand under the material and felt the wetness already gathering.
“Jesus fuck” he groaned “you're so perfect, so good for me”
You raised your hips so he could slide them off you and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you in front of him, full hips and thick thighs on display for him.
Not to mention your growing belly peeking out from under your shirt.
His eyes went from brown to black at an alarming pace as he slowly lowered himself and looked up at you with a devilish smirk.
“You ready?” he purred, voice deepened by arousal.
You were on the verge of crying again, feeling so overwhelmed by the attention Oscar was giving you, but you swallowed the feeling down in favour of sliding a hand through his hair.
You tightened your grip, pulling at the roots slightly and he shivered, his eyes closing in pleasure. He let out the tiniest whimper when you did it again.
When his eyes met yours again after a few moments of him composing himself, you smiled down at him.
“Get to work”
281 notes · View notes
just-some-random-blogger · 6 days ago
Text
Tormented Spirit | 5
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: guys this not fully proofread as I am exhausted | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat
Tumblr media
You cannot tear your eyes away from Daemon as you walk down the halls together. Though he already told you the blood on his armor was not his, you could not help but worry that perhaps he had a wound hidden away underneath his steel plate. Your stare is so heavy, he's unable to ignore it, thus why he huffs, "out with it."
You perk at his words and rub your hands together.
He raises a brow at you, "or do you merely think me so devastatingly handsome you cannot help but stare?"
You slowly shake your head, "are you certain you are unharmed?"
His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks forward, "I am offended you did not agree."
You knit your brows, "you," you shake your head, "already know. You are comely husband."
He turns back to you.
You cannot name the expression he gives you.
"Did I not say I was unharmed?"
You stop in your tracks out of frustration, grabbing his arm, "Daemon."
He turns to you, face hardening at your look of concern.
"If you are hurt, then we should head for the maester's."
He chuckles under his breath and pulls away, "a funny thought coming from you."
Your brows furrow deeper as you tail after him, "I do not follow."
He looks over his shoulder, lips curling, "considering you are sick and yet nowhere near the maester's ward."
You only then recognize his smile was mocking. You feel a pinch in your chest. You shake your head, "we are not the same. If there was something to be done about my affliction, my father would have seen it done years ago."
Daemon laughs.
You wait for him to explain his laughter, but he does not. You take his arm again, "what amuses you?"
Your husband looks at you, then at the hand you had on his bicep, "through it all, you hold your father in such high regard."
You clench your jaw and release his him.
He enjoys your dejection, thus why he takes your hand, placing it back in its place with a chuckle, "say it isn't so— I dare you."
You look back at him. His smile is like a needle through your heart. He must think you're stupid without even trying. You mutter, "I am merely stating facts."
He laughs again, "your frail heart keeps you naive."
The feel of his armor is suddenly scorching and you have to pull away. He stares at you after the fact, but does not take your hand again.
You do not speak until you reach the door to the meeting room. Once there, Daemon motions with his head, "wait for me. You like flowers don't you?"
You look over your shoulder and realize that he was motioning to the window that gave view to the gardens. You turn back to him and step forward, reaching out to retrieve the flower in his hair. It would not be appropriate for him to attend a council meeting like this.
Daemon mistakes your action for affection, and moves his head away so you cannot caress his cheek, "I said I am unharmed, woman. Now go sit down."
He walks off after this, leaving you standing in the middle of the hall alone. Just as he enters the room, you struggle with yourself if you should call out to him or simply run up to him and snatch the flower off his head. But then, the moment is gone and he's already inside.
You cannot find it in you to sit as you overthink what would become of your husband because of the flower in his hair.
Just as you begin to pace around, you are rendered frozen when you hear your name get called.
Viserys smiles at you, as he and his council members walk over, "good morrow."
You make eye contact with your father, who was walking just behind the king, and lower your gaze as you curtsy, "your grace. A pleasant morning to you."
Viserys stops in front of you, clapping his hands once, "why, you look fetching my dear," his eyes examine your hair, and you, yourself, are reminded by the presence of the blossoms on your head, "did you pick those from the garden?"
You rise and smile at your husband's brother, shaking your head, "my ward, ser Erryk, was kind enough to- ..." you catch yourself amidst your confession, eyes suddenly darting to your father.
Otto's jaw is set and his eyes are already angered.
You gulp and decide to continue nevertheless, "...accompany me flower picking in the meadow."
Otto huffs audibly, but the king's reaction is so stark in contrast, your father does not have the opportunity to butt in this moment. Viserys claps once again and smiles, "oh good. Some fresh air always did help me. Of course, when I say fresh air, I really mean going on dragon back, but strolling in the meadow picking flowers is a fine pastime."
You are touched by the king's amicable sentiment. You repay his smile with your own, "I completely agree."
"I do not," Otto says, "what if you get an attack in the middle of the nowhere? What if the pain is too great and you are not brought home in time?"
Viserys and you turn to the Lord Hand. The king responds, "she was accompanied by her ward. Is that not why you requested one for her?"
"I requested a ward to keep her in check to prevent her from doing things that would cause her affliction to worsen."
You tense under the harsh sound of Otto's voice.
Viserys recognizes your discomfort and waves him off, "you needn't be so hard on your daughter. It is good for the spirit to reserve time frolicking."
You gulp the next time the king smiles at you. You do not smile back and merely curtsy at him. With that, he and his council members go into their meeting room and you are left alone once more.
The council members' muttering comes to a halt when they see prince Daemon in his seat.
"Kind of you to join us today, brother," Viserys huffs, "we were just talking about you."
Daemon eyes Otto, "the topic being my bride, no doubt."
Otto has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he walks to his chair. His throat constricts, as if he was about to retch, when he sees the flower by his ear. He thinks of you and the flowers in your hair and figures Daemon did this to spur him in. He releases a deep breath to calm himself, "the topic being your power tripping with the City Watch last night."
Daemon glares at him. The king sits at the head of the table. The prince links his hands together, "you would know to mind your tongue, Lord Hand. I care little for the tears my wife will shed once I sever your neck from your spine."
"Daemon," Viserys snaps.
"And what I did last night was clean the streets from the putrid scabs of the city in preparation for my birth of my brother's child."
"And you exacted a very public show of extreme violence while doing so," Viserys leans on the table, "you maimed and mutilated peopl-"
"Criminals," Daemon whips his head. He raises his brows, "would you rather they strut free and continue stealing, raping, and killing in your city?"
"I would have them see justice."
Daemon chuckles dryly.
Viserys raises a finger, "your blade is not the writ of justice."
"Do you mean to tell me it's yours?" the younger Targaryen narrows his eyes.
"I AM THE KING," the elder Targaryen snaps.
The prince does not flinch, "speaking loudly will not make it truer, brother."
Needless to say, the meeting is coarse and uncomfortable.
You start from where you were sat by the window upon witnessing Daemon shove the meeting doors open. He storms out of the room grumbling and you have to gather your skirts to run off after him.
"What's happened?" you mutter when you reach his side.
He ignores you, simply continuing to march away with a storm cloud overhead.
You are partially surprised to find that he was heading towards your shared chambers. He shoves the doors open then marches towards your private baths. There, your tub holds steaming water. You were grateful the servants thought to prepare the bath here and not Daemon's personal quarters.
Daemon begins to callously remove his armor and immediately ceases when you come towards him to do it yourself. You look between his hard expression and hard attire, thinking of something to say to calm his down.
You think of nothing.
The moment he is free of his steel, he removes the rest of his garbs himself and steps into the tub. You meant to remove the flower in his hair but then he wordlessly offers you his arm, expecting you to clean him, and so you do without fuss.
In the quiet of washing and splashing water, you feel Daemon slowly begin to relax. He leans back, releasing a sigh as he shuts his eyes. You stare at him for a long moment. He is beautiful.
"Your father is a fucking cunt."
You purse your lips as you release his arm. He opens his eyes when you pull away, then watches as you circle around the tub. You sigh as you take his other arm and begin scrubbing it, "he is... sometimes unkind."
He scoffs, turning to you, "sometimes?"
You focus on his arm, unwanting to meet his gaze, "he was kind to my mother... I think. And to my brother... sister... sometimes."
Daemon watches you, brows furrowing, "and you?"
You shrug, "sometimes?"
"Why do you defend him?" he tilts his head.
Finally, you look at him. The glint in his violet eyes make him appear as though he genuinely wanted to understand you. You shrug once more and shake your head, "he is my father."
"He is a cunt."
You tilt your head, scooping water onto his arm, "surely you've thought the same thing about your brother." You look between his arm and his face.
Daemon does not respond. He does, however, pull away from you.
You stare at him, trying to anticipate his next move.
He motions with his head then leans back in the tub once more, "strip. You should bathe with me."
You stiffen at his proposal, but do not object otherwise. You gather your hair and turn around, "will you undo my laces?"
Daemon, for some reason, is taken aback by the request. There is something that swirls in his gut. Still, he moves towards you and undoes your ties, pushing your dress down after. You shudder when he frees you of your shift and strokes your spine with the back of his hand.
"The king demands we have a family dinner before the tourney tomorrow," Daemon mindlessly mutters, "you must wear something pretty."
You gulp when he kisses your shoulder and scratches your sides until he's cupping your breasts. You gasp and turn when he tries to pull you in. Finally, the flower in his hair falls off when your nails dig into his scalp as he kisses you.
By the time the water goes cold and your bliss from love making wears off, you are faced with the fact your neck and collarbones are covered in glaring purple and red marks again.
Daemon does not relent as you both dress. He is adamant in covering your skin with bruises and bites. You are not surprised that he makes you wear something that showcases your decolletage, but you at least find solace in the fact he makes you keep your hair down in its natural state.
The air is tense as your families eat dinner. You sit next to each other, with him to your right, followed by Viserys and Aemma. In front of the queen was Rhaenyra, then Alicent by the left, Gwyane, and finally your father, who sat before you.
There was something serene in the sinister way Daemon strokes your arm and pushes your hair back. You knew he was doing this to rile your father up, yet you did not know why your body found comfort in his touch.
Then, in a flash, you were nothing but uncomfortable when your twin drops his silverware and blurts out, "you will not lose your hand if it does not grope my sister as we feast."
Daemon, who had been rubbing the your back all the way to the side of your breast, turned to your brother, who sat across him.
Gwayne clenches his jaw, expecting him to pull away.
Instead, Daemon moves your hair to one side of your shoulder and caresses your neck with the back of his hands, "oh, but you see, now that I've..." he smiles, "sampled your dear sister, I fear that it might."
Otto is next to drop his utensils. Your body burns at Daemon's words but you can do nothing but lower your head in mortification.
Viserys sniggers. Aemma glares and nudges him.
"You would not understand this, for you are unmarried," Daemon says turning his head, "but perhaps your father will."
Viserys nearly chokes on his meal, but then clears his throat, "brother-" he withholds his laughter, "-that is quite enough." The king looks at the faces across the table, none of them but him and Daemon finding this predicament amusing, "I'm sure everyone is... overjoyed that you and your bride have found marital bliss, but do keep your manners," he nods, "you are seated before the king."
Daemon turns to Viserys and straightens up. He nods, "my king."
Viserys clears his throat again and nods, "manners, brother."
"Hmm, like you with Aemma?"
Rhaenyra slams her hands on the table, pushes her chair back, and stands. All turns to her and her sour expression as she speaks, "I'm quite finished with my food. If I may be excused... my king."
Otto stands next, his chair skidding behind him, "I am quite finished with my food as well," he nods at Viserys, "I wish you a good meal."
Your belly rolls when he looks at you.
"Daughter, might you walk me out of the room, there is something I wish to discuss with you."
"She is quite busy with her food," Daemon immediately answers for you, "if you wish to speak something, speak it in front of us."
Your throat tightens.
"Tis a personal matter," Otto speaks firmly, "I would not put my child in an uncomfortable position."
Gwayne watches your expression, feeling restless because of your glaring discomfort.
"But you've already done so announcing your desire to speak to her so that she could not refuse," Daemon snaps.
Your chest begins to constrict. Gwyane picks up on how your breath quickens.
Otto clenches his jaw, "I wish to speak to my daughter."
"Yes, and I say fuck off."
"Daemon," Viserys finally snaps, turning to the said man. The king turns to you, peering past his brother, "you may speak to Otto if you wish, or you may simply continue with your meal."
You turn to your skirt and clench the fabric in your hand.
Daemon rubs your nape and your skin reacts with goosebumps. You gasp when his hand is snatched away by Viserys. You turn to them, struggling to breathe as you watch them bicker in High Valyrian.
Aemma tries to interject, but the brothers do not acknowledge her.
"Sister," Gwayne calls to you.
You want to turn to him, but you fear you will crumble in tears if you do.
The room is silenced when you stand. You feel everyone's gaze on your skin. "I wish-" you speak through a heavy breath, "-to retire."
You run out of the room before anyone can respond. Your heart drums in its cage but you tell yourself to run and to keep running.
Gwyane stands, ready to chase after you, but Daemon blocks him and their bodies violently collide. Daemon shoves him back and Gwyane is about to lunge at him but hears the voice of her baby sister calling his name in concern. His face twitches as he holds himself back.
"She is my wife," Daemon says.
"Then fucking go after her," Gwayne snaps, raising an arm, "she'll be heading to the temple, undoubtedly, which is outside the Keep, if you are not aware."
"Go on!" Otto snaps, pointing a finger, "chase after her."
Daemon seethes at the instruction. Dare he? He'll break the arm that fucking finger is connected to. He wants nothing less than to do what that cunt says.
"Go to her, Daemon," Viserys urges.
He glares at his brother, offended by his alliance with the fucker. Now he is really not going to do that. He's left with no other choice but to leave the damned dining room though. How lucky of him to run into the Cargyll twins on his way out.
"You," Daemon barks, calling the attention of the two men. He marches over to them, hands balled tightly into fists.
"My p-"
"The fucking Hand has upset the bitch again," the prince snaps, "she's run off in a fit to gods know where."
The two watch the prince have a hissy fit in High Valyrian before realizing he referring to his wife. Arryk says, "the princess has run off at this hour?"
"Her cunt twin said she'd go to the temple, but maybe she's fallen dead halfway through her sprint."
The twins turn to each other in horror.
"Ah, if only the gods were that kind," Daemon scoffs then looks between them, "find her. I do not wish to hear her pathetic sobbing."
Erryk's nostrils flare. Arryk clenches his jaw and nods. The latter begins to walk off and has to reel his brother by the arm to follow.
Daemon storms off to the dragon pit.
Arryk eyes his brother. Erryk's eyes remain on the prince, until his twin calls his attention.
You arrive at the temple of the Seven, forehead and nape sheened over with sweat. You nearly collapse before the Mother. The only reason you do not, is because two septas catch you before you collide with the shrine of candles. Upon recognizing you, they are quick to attend to you, saying they will get you water and a towel.
Running is a horrid activity that seems to only more horrid each time you do it. You find that your heart cannot keep up, and you are pushed into horrible breathlessness. Your father was strict to never let you run. You do not know if it is simply because you are not capable of running or because of your affliction that made it so.
You thank the gracious septas for their care and ask them if they would pray with you. Unable to deny you, a woman so devout and so... pitiful, they help you get on your knees and you recite The Mother's prayer together. At some point, you begin to weep, and once more it becomes increasingly harder for you to breathe. The septas have to stop praying and attend to you again.
"Princess!"
You are made to sit down on the floor. The two septas are replaced with two men, both dressed in steel, one as seemly as the other, albeit the mark of abject concern on their face. You frown as you look between Arryk and Erryk's worried features. Your scratch your eyes as they speak to you. The weight in your chest makes it hard to understand.
You hiccup as one of them scoops you into their arms. You do not realize you were being carried out of the temple until you are outside. "Wait," you sigh when you managed to catch a breath, "wait."
Whoever is carrying you does not hear it, but his brother does. He says, "wait, Erryk. What is it, princess?"
"I wish to pray," you mutter, eyes still wet with tears, "please."
Arryk looks at you. Erryk shakes his head, "we have to bring her inside."
"Erryk," Arrryk knits his brows, "she wishes to pray."
"She is in no condition to—" Erryk's words falter when your hand comes to his cheek.
You feel your lips tremble and you barely manage to speak, "please."
A line forms between his brows at the sound of your weak voice, "my prin-"
"Erryk," you stroke his cheek, "I need this."
Arryk looks between you and his brother. He watches him sigh and turn back. He follows after Erryk as he goes up the stairs, back towards the shrine.
You are placed before the Mother once more. You sigh and allow yourself repose before shifting on your knees. The twins leave you to your prayers, standing by not too far off.
Erryk's eyes remain on you. Arryk's eyes remain on Erryk.
"You tread a dangerous path, brother."
Erryk does look away.
Arryk sighs, turning his gaze over to you.
You sit on your knees, one arm rested on the plinth as you take a stick and light it. You whisper, "mummy," then light a candle, "me," then light another. Your soft whispers flutter in the echo chamber.
Both twins feel fangs rip into their stomachs as they watch you. Erryk's features are more honest to it however, which is why Arryk catches it and speaks again, "you are sworn to her, you fool."
"And you are not?" Erryk snaps, turning to his twin.
The brothers stare at each other for a moment. Arryk purses his lips and tilts his head, "I am not in love with her."
"Then leave," Erryk motions with a nod. He shifts in his spot, linking his hands together as he turns back back to you.
Arryk snorts and clenches is hands. His ears perk at the sound of your hushed sobbing. His heart clogs his throat.
Erryk sighs through his nose, "you are still here."
"I cannot leave her."
Erryk turns to Arryk, "then you are just as foolish as I."
"I-" Arryk starts. He cannot look away from you, "... I am sworn to her."
"She is beautiful," Erryk says.
Arryk finally tears his gaze only to shoot his brother a warning look, but Erryk's eyes are back on you.
"She wove flowers into my hair mere hours ago," he knits his brows, "she laughed and beamed and glimmered," Erryk sighs, "now she crumbles and weeps and hurts."
Arryk knits his brows, just as deep as his twin's.
You wipe your tears as you soothe yourself. You voice goes low again as you continue to pray.
"I am not a fool," Arryk says
Erryk laughs dryly, turning to him, "very well. If y-"
"I know she is beautiful," Arryk cuts him off.
His lips flatten.
Arryk gulps, "outside and within."
"As I said," Erryk replies, "just as foolish."
"I do not understand what could posses someone to hurt such a creature."
"Perhaps there is no soul to posses."
Arryk shakes your head, "you cannot allow your anger to get ahead of yourself, fool. You are glad the prince did not notice."
"The prince is too caught up in himself to notice anything that does not directly a..." Erryk's words go dry.
Arryk knits his brows, finding his twin was staring at something behind him. He looks over, stiffening when he catches the very person they were speaking of walking over.
Daemon makes a beeline towards you. He stops just behind you, lips and brows tense at the sound of your evidently upset voice. "Should you be doing this?"
You perk at the sound of the voice and look over your shoulder. You stare at Daemon, unsure if you were imagining him or if he was really there. You find that you don't really care, "will you pray with me?"
He does not like that you do not answer his question. He shifts on his spot, "did you faint or fall out of breath?
You turn back to the candles, "you must not be real."
"What?"
"I do not think my husband would care," you mutter, clasping your hands together in prayer.
Daemon does not move.
"You would pray with me then," you add, "you are kind."
The prince's face contorts. He feels like he is choking. He comes to your side, slowly dropping to his knees. He clasps his hands together, propping his elbows in front of him. He is taken aback by how you rest your head on his shoulder with no hesitation. He stiffens and a part of his mind screams to shove you away. He does nothing of the sort however.
"I tire," you admit.
"Then we sh-"
"Tell him to grant me my prayer."
Daemon slowly turns his head to look at you. He sees the way the tears trickle down from the bridge of your nose, "tell who?"
"The Stranger."
Daemon turns to the statue of the Mother. He wants to be difficult and tell you to simply move to the other statue, but instead he asks, "what is your request?"
"Death."
He turns back to you, expecting you to name a name. You do not, so he asks again, "your father?"
Your brows furrow, "no."
He turns to his hands. An unnamable emotion seizes him, "so... your husband?"
You finally lift your head. You turn to him, a deep frown on your face, "I do not wish you harm, Daemon."
He turns to you.
New tears burn down your cheeks.
A new unnamable emotion seizes him at the sight of your wobbling lips.
The twins find themselves looking away when the prince wipes your cheek.
You lean into his touch, "I have prayed for the same thing every night since I was ten."
Daemon's forehead curls, "what do you pray for?"
"To die."
The hand he had on your face tenses.
"It is pointless," you push his hand away, retreating from his touch, "my pain does not subside. My heart and flesh grow weaker each day."
Daemon is uneasy as you turn back to the Mother. He shakes his head, "I do not think the gods listen to such sinful prayers."
"Sin?" you chuckle under your breath.
Somehow your laughter sounds sadder than your weeping.
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision.
The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
You stare at his outstretched palm, then look up at him as he stands. You are loathe to move. You do not think you can, even if you wanted to, "I tire."
He leans over, draping your arm around his shoulders, "I'll bring you to bed."
You say nothing as Daemon pulls you in and carries you in his arms.
For the final time tonight, another unnamable emotions seizes him. It only further intensifies when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.
347 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 5 months ago
Note
Okay, I have a request for you that is no pressure, but Reader enjoys praise loves when she is being acknowledged for doing good and being good but doesn't know how to accept but their lover(and I have no idea would best fit this. My heart says Cassian, but realistically, it's probably Az or Eris) talks them through it shows them they don't need to be flustered.
Please ignore if this makes no sense
Self Worth
Tumblr media
Summary - Cassian can't stand seeing you so low
Warnings - insecure reader, praise, mentions of mental health slipping
A/N - just a little baby fic of how Cassian would handle his mate needing her self-esteem and self worth built up 💕
✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️
Tumblr media
"Look me in my eyes and tell me the female I love isn't good enough again," Cassian was being as gentle as he could. You were shying away from him, eager for his praise, but instantly falling into that shell the second he gave it. "Look me in my eyes and tell me why the female I love cannot look at me after I tell her how beautiful she is today."
"I-" The words died on your tongue. No excuse you could find would appease him. No excuse would make him forgive you for whispering to him that you weren't enough. Weren't brave enough, pretty enough, strong enough. You saw the way he admired Nesta and Feyre. The way he admired Mor.
You didn't see the way he looked at you, though. He looked at you as if you had made the very world, as if you had forged him to be exactly how you needed him to be. You pushed him yo be that male, pushed him to be better. To be good. You made Cassian see the beauty in the world, the beauty in others. Perhaps that is why it hurt him that you could not see the beauty in you.
"I just never feel like I'm doing enough. Like there's no way you want me, want my body, want me to be-"
"Stop," he interrupted you immediately. He hid the break in his voice so well, hid how just a few words instantly shattered his heart. "You're struggling again, aren't you angel?" His eyes studied you hard as you nodded silently. "Y/n, you've been working so hard for Rhys, being the perfect emissary. You single handedly started the process of him and Tamlin creating a trade route, of him and Dawn beginning a joint training program between the Peregryn and Illyrians. Angel, you are doing so well and working so hard."
Your chest started to feel heavy, breathing becoming rapid, and Cassian instantly put his hands on your upper arms. He began to exaggerate his breathing, forcing you to follow it and calm down. "You are beautiful, you are special, you are kind. You are my mate, Y/n. You will never have to worry about competition or me not loving a single inch of you. I am proud to be yours. Proud you wanted me."
You looked up at Cassian, eyes lined in tears, "Really? You don't wish I was a.. a fighter?"
He laughed softly, "If you could fight, why would you need me? My job is to protect you. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even if that means protecting you from yourself." He leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You are beautiful. Say it for me."
"I-" You paused, taking a deep breath. "I am beautiful."
Cassian's smile grew, "Good job, angel. Tell me five things you love about you."
You bit your lip thinking, "My eyes," he groaned in pleasure at that answer. "My humor," he whispered yes softly. "My butt-"
"Fuck yes your ass," Cassian turned you quickly to smack it before turning you around. "Continue."
You giggled at him, "My kindness," he shut his eyes smiling. "And... I think.."
"No. Not think. You know you love this last thing. Tell me again," he demanded.
You nodded more confidently, "I love my smile." Cassian held your face in his hands again. "Because when I smile, you smile, then I smile more."
"Seeing you glowing and happy makes me happy," he said. "Every day we do 5 things you love about you, then I'm going to spend the day praising them until that self Worth gets back up again, okay angel?"
"Okay, Cassie."
Tumblr media
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites
507 notes · View notes
bread--quest · 11 months ago
Text
It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.
Tumblr media
👁️ nvcr-official
Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!
👁️ nvcr-official
To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.
83 notes
Tumblr media
🦉 dark-owl-records
CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER
hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic
keep reading
❌ number-one-moonhater Follow
Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this
🦉 dark-owl-records
L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash
🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow
Isn't Cecil literally gay?
🦉 dark-owl-records
he's homophobic
🪼 jeebyfish Follow
he has a husband...
🦉 dark-owl-records
yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it
2,500 notes
Tumblr media
🤫 cecils-private-blog
Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((
👁️ nvcr-official
Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url
🤫 cecils-private-blog
HOW DID YOU SEE THIS
4 notes
Tumblr media
🏜️ sandeater Follow
tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk
🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow
op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn
☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow
fake story :/
📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram
No it's true I was there
🚂 traintonowhere Follow
TAMIKA FLYNN??
🏜️ sandeater Follow
what the fuck is happening on my post
8,345 notes
Tumblr media
👁️ nvcr-official
can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is
27 notes
Tumblr media
🐚 mariella-shella
Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!
🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow
omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!
🐚 mariella-shella
i miss me too
42 notes
Tumblr media
😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?
🎙️ cecilpalmer
Huh??
🎙️ cecilpalmer
@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?
👁️ nvcr-official
uhhhh dont worry about it buddy
50 notes
Tumblr media
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post
☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow
how's it going op
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
i miss my family
506 notes
Tumblr media
🐚 mariella-shella Follow
hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol
🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow
you were really hot
🐚 mariella-shella Follow
FUCK YEAHHHHHH
89 notes
Tumblr media
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
i'm not calling it that sorry
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
What??? Why??
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
just kind of sucks. as a name
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
?????????
170 notes
Tumblr media
🐄
⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983
what does this mean....
🌌 cece-xeze Follow
another great post from huntokar herself
16,683 notes
Tumblr media
🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow
🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow
you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?
👁️ nvcr-official
NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP
806 notes
Tumblr media
😁 the-happy-smiler Follow
Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!
👁️ nvcr-official
I
🦉 dark-owl-records
N
🎙️ cecilpalmer
T
📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram
E
🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow
R
🚂 traintonowhere Follow
L
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
O
🌌 cece-xeze Follow
P
🐚 mariella-shella Follow
E
🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow
R
21,983 notes
2K notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 5 months ago
Text
reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron
------------------
Tumblr media
------------------
a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.
tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))
summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.
warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)
not entirely proofread
2k+ words
------------------
When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek. 
When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything. 
When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces. 
When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship. 
When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance. 
He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again. 
------------------
Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?
Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.
“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field. 
“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. 
“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked. 
“Yeah, why?”
“Just an old friend, thanks!” 
And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand. 
------------------
“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie. 
“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you. 
“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug. 
“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”
“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”
Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid. 
Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving. 
“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked. 
“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled. 
“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.
“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed. 
You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’
Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then. 
“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”
That satisfied them, and they stopped asking. 
------------------
The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.
When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’
God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan. 
Step One: Start dating Rafe
Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher! 
Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning. 
Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family. 
Step Five: Die happy. 
Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13. 
You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.
“Bun! You’re back!”
Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.
“Hey Topper,” you smiled. 
“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.
“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”
“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?
“Rafe is high?”
“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”
“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs. 
“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated. 
“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table. 
“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group. 
“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”
“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”
You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke. 
“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”
“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”
You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes. 
The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues. 
------------------
“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you. 
Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind. 
“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else. 
“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.” 
His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good. 
“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”
You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”
“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”
Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.
“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”
“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”
Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him. 
The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.
“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”
“Until what?” Ryan chuckled. 
Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by. 
Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again. 
People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.
------------------
obx masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
445 notes · View notes
lady-of-endless · 7 months ago
Text
Things you do that make their heart melt
(La Squadra x reader)
Tumblr media
Author's Note: Those are random but that's the point. I tried to be a bit explicit for those who are at the start of Jojo part 5 and maybe don't remember each character's Stand name or ability. I couldn't write this only for my 3 darlings from La Squadra as I started it because I love them all too much. Proud La Squadra stan. Excuse any grammar mistakes. Enjoy!
Risotto Nero
- How you can balance being serious and being affectionate so easily. This is something he admires a lot and wishes to be capable of too sometimes. Yes, he's a serious and stoic man but the whole La Squadra knows just how big his heart is. Sometimes Risotto wishes he could show a bit of affection to the ones dear to him. Risotto is a softie inside but the nature of his occupation forces him to be as reserved and stern as he is now.
- How you can protect yourself. Being a hitman is tough, nothing new under the sun, but being the leader of the team is even worse. It's hard to watch out for others when he also must make sure that everything is working out smoothly. But he cares about you and your safety so damn much it's almost dangerous. So seeing you handle enemies alone helps him fall asleep at night with fewer worries. Also, watching you fight and come up with strategies makes him smile slightly and so subtly that of course, no one can notice it.
- How you look dressed in black with silver accessories. Aesthetically wise, black is one of his favorite colors and no one can tell otherwise. When you decide to match him with a dark outfit, his gaze will follow you more than usual. Be sure of the fact that he'll use his Stand, Metallica, to give you subtle signals, or not so subtle, by pulling onto your belt or necklace.
(it's loving Risotto hours)
Prosciutto
- How you calm yourself down after an intense moment. Prosciutto himself is not proud of when he snaps at people, thinking that it's not graceful behavior so he starts studying you from afar while calming down. He analyzes your soft tone, your calm face but alert eyes after being harsh, to learn from you but he finds himself falling for it. Like his brother, he also craves a bit of softness in his life but will never admit it, not even to himself so seeing you simmer down and transform into someone calm and understanding makes him want your presence more.
- How you counter him when he is too cruel to his brother. He is harsh with Pesci and he knows it, but he thinks it's only for good. It's not about how you're stubborn enough to argue with him but about how it reminds him that if something ever goes wrong with him on a mission, someone else will make sure that his brother is still alright and progressing. Also, as you two are arguing, things get pretty heated in no time and as the distance between you closes in, everyone knows that it's better to leave you two alone.
- How focused you look when deciding on an outfit. That and how you ask him for an opinion. You can see him leaning back in an armchair just looking at you searching through your clothes with an amused but admirative look on his face. Prosciutto likes to make himself look presentable and if you do the same, he can't help but find that fact attractive. Plus he can play dress up with you without you even suspecting it and he can't get enough of it.
(why is he like that? Love him though)
Ghiaccio
- How you let yourself be angry sometimes. To him, almost anyone seems calmer than him, but seeing someone being as furious as him from time to time and that someone being you? That's new. It doesn't happen often and in some odd way, he finds it fascinating. As much as he enjoys teasing you, he'll never be the type to say "Just calm down" or "You're exaggerating" because he knows how much it enrages someone already angry to hear this. He will be very understanding when you're like that. Plus, if someone or something gets you angry, he gets angry too so it will end up with the two of you being a scary couple.
- How your eyes shine when you smile and your smile in general. He is baffled by how when your lips are curved into a smile, your eyes are radiant too. Usually, he uses this expressiveness of yours against you, teasing you about it but when you smile so warmly, he feels like he's looking at the sun and that's unnerving because it makes him blush. He can't understand it.
- How your nose scrunches when you get a brain freeze from consuming something cold. This along with how your cheeks and nose redden when you're cold. He rolls his eyes at himself for like such a shallow and obvious thing but can't help it. It's not how adorable you look it's more how no one notices such details but him. It's his guilty pleasure. He has a kink when it comes to your reactions to cold temperatures.
(ugh I love him so much it's pathetic)
Pesci
- How you encourage him randomly sometimes. Pesci's already having a hard time adjusting to hitman life and constantly being scolded by his brother. At first, when you encourage him, he's stunned, flustered, embarrassed even but in time he starts to feel so much better overall because of it. His stress goes down and he gets more confident and sure of his actions because of your praise.
- How you're kind to the innocent - animals, kids, etc. Since he followed his brother and joined the team, the shock from seeing so much violence in his life all of a sudden left a mark on him. When he notices you being soft to the innocent and helpless while still being a hitman, he starts to heal. His only wish is for you to keep this side of yours so he can keep his too.
- How peaceful you look while sleeping. Again, being in an Italian hitman team is not easy, it distorted any perspective on peacefulness he had before. Seeing you rest without a frown on your face reminds him that there still is peacefulness in this way of living.
Melone
- How you're intelligent enough but don't flaunt it. Sure, he likes good looks but that's not as important as intelligence, any type. Melone is a bit of a sapiosexual, he knows it. If you come up with smart questions during meetings, his attention is immediately on you from that point on until the end of the meeting. Also, if you're genuinely curious about how his stand, Baby Face, works, it only adds to your charm.
- How you pick up on his "di molto" catchphrase. Melone works a lot. I mean A LOT. Besides progenation, he's skilled at finding out hidden info about the target, too. But usually, he does it alone, no one accompanies him and sometimes he can't help but feel slightly ignored. So when you start spending enough time with him to start using his phrases, he starts to feel less alone.
- How you walk. Simple as that. He has been caught many times staring at how some people walk, it's a well-known fact. So if you walk a bit slower and move your hips a bit more intentionally, making it look natural, he's dead. To hell with the mission for a few moments of pure admiration.
Illuso
- How confident you are. You don't need him to hype you up and he won't, but you'll always catch him looking at you with a proud look on his face. However, not everyone can be confident all the time and Illuso knows it very well. When he finds you letting your guard down and looking disappointed with yourself, he'll act right away. He hates seeing you struggle with shallow insecurities as you are just so wonderful in his eyes...
- How you take time to relax. He always insists on you taking everything a bit more slowly, so when you finally do it, he's more than pleased. He likes to see your facial muscles loosen up, causing a relaxed expression. He wishes to see it more often and he wishes for you to prioritise taking care of yourself.
- How you study yourself in the mirror while getting ready. He will use his Stand's ability to enter that mirror's dimension just to look at you from that perspective. This applies to intimate moments as well, just a heads-up. However, his favorite moment to do that is when you're fixing your hair, there's something about it that he finds so damn attractive.
Formaggio
- How you focus on the mission at hand. That, and how serious you look while doing it. Don't get it wrong, he's also focused on the missions but he looks more laid-back, like a natural. He finds it funny and adorable how you look so stern and even suggest him to pay more attention.
- How you always mention Sorbet and Gelato after their death. Everyone knows that Risotto said to forget about it after the funeral to focus on getting back on track as fast as possible and avenging them afterward but to Formaggio, this never felt right. So when you mention a memory from time to time to everyone, his heart feels a little bit lighter.
- How you dance to your favorite songs. He thinks that the majority of members of La Squadra are too stiff and grim sometimes so catching you dancing around alone to your playlist makes him smile. For him, it's like a breath of fresh air. Expect him to join you.
469 notes · View notes
readerstories · 1 month ago
Text
When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 2/?
This story is constantly on my mind these days. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)
Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn
Wordcount: 2555
Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.
Tumblr media
After running after Red and failing to catch up, you make some improvised bandages out of some dead guy’s shirt, which you do apologize to him for, it was a nice shirt, not that he can answer you. Maybe there was a med-kit somewhere, but you do not want to start wandering aimlessly around a big warehouse. The cuts on your arms, leg, and face are shallow, but the ones on your stomach and chest will need stitches. 
You steal more clothes from some more dead guys, your pants being the only kind of salvageable garment, but it looks better to have pants that don't have a hole in them with three bleeding cuts underneath. You bundle up your ruined clothes, and take them out with you, not a great idea to leave more of yourself behind. There is of course some of your blood on the floor, but you are sure it’s all mixed up with everyone else's, so that won’t matter.
Though all the cars tires are slashed, you are lucky that your ‘boss’ and his rival had a certain ‘style’ they followed, so all of the cars are the same, or similar enough that they use the same wheels. So after a lot of swearing and sweating and bleeding, you can drive one car out, all spare tires. It’s not the best thing, since the movement of switching out the tires pulls at your wounds, but the only other option would have been to walk to a main road and then hitchhike, which would have been a disaster. The fabric making up your bandages has to be switched out after you are done, and you try to pretend it doesn’t worry you about how much blood you’ve lost, and how you are feeling a little woozy as you sit yourself down into the driver's seat.
Also on top of it all you have a headache building, filled with anger, frustration, panic, sadness, and confusion. You are sure the anger is yours, not too sure about everything else though, as your soulmate’s feelings have been mixing in with yours. Sometimes they seem separate, other times they mix so thoroughly that it’s just a mess. You rub your forehead, willing it all away. 
It doesn’t work, at all, not that you really thought it would, but a guy can dream.
For now though, you have other things to concentrate on. Such as calling your vet friend Evelyn so you can come to her clinic, and she can stitch you up so you won’t bleed out before seeing your soulmate Red again. 
This whole soulmate thing is something you’ve never wanted, but you want to at least talk to him, and agree that the bond is strictly going to be platonic, or rather the closest thing to actual non-existence. Something that you both can learn to ignore and mentally suppress, leaving each other alone until whoever shuffles off this mortal coil firsts severs the connection. 
You swear to yourself, hitting the steering wheel a few times, before picking up your phone and dialing Evelyn.
—-------
Ditching your ride is easy enough, you park it a few blocks away from your Evelyn's clinic, and leave the doors unlocked. It will be gone by morning. 
Your feet don't feel the steadiest, but if anyone were to look at you, you would just look like another drunk stumbling home from the bar. Seeing the lit sign with the little smiling dog that marks the right place, you slink into the alleyway next to the building. Your fist on the metal door on the side of the building is heavy. Lucky for you, you don’t have to wait long until Evelyn opens it. She’s frowning, but waves you in none the less, waiting to comment until she locks the door behind you.
“Thought you said at my birthday party you were going to slow down with these kinds of visits.”
“Yeah, but you know, unexpected things happen.” You follow her down the hallway, a familiar route as she leads you into a room where they normally operate on pets, and certainly not humans (other than you).
“At least you are alive. How’s the other guy?” She pats the metal table, before starting to find equipment, some meant for animals, other stuff stashed away from earlier visits. 
“I killed him.” You say as you move to sit at the table. You conveniently leave out the part where he got back up and the whole mess that followed, but at least what you say is true.
“What am I working with?” Evelyn has her back turned to you as she asks, but turns around to look at you, observing your clothes that are this time in one piece.
“Chest and stomach, one cut to each, about 8-10 inches, deep.” She winces as you pull your shirt off, revealing the blood-soaked makeshift bandages. “Some others, but they just need a clean-up and something to cover them later.” The bandages come off, you bite your lip not to hiss in pain, not that it really matters as Evelyn has heard and seen a lot.
“Nasty. Lay back.” You drop your shirt and the bloody rags that can hardly be called bandages on the end of the table, knowing she will complain about having to clean the floor if you dropped them there. 
“Ay ay, mam’.” You swing your legs up on the table and lay down, Evelyn just rolls her eyes at you.
“Don’t call me that, I’m not my mother.”
“Ay ay, sir, then?” You joke, but clench your jaw as she pokes at the edge of your chest wound.
“Good thing the money is good and my wife loves your brownies, or else I might kick you out for that.”
“Tell your wife I’m flattered, but I am very gay.” And have a soulmate, but you leave out that part.
“And so are we.” She grabs a leash from a drawer, holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite down, chipping a tooth will not charm anyone.” You take it, teeth closing around the fabric as Evelyn starts on the wound on your stomach.
You are going to fucking kill Red again.
Soulmate bond be damned.
—----
After Evelyn patches you up, she orders you home to rest, which to be fair, you do. 
For a day.
While looking up a little more about soulmates on your phone.
It’s not like you know nothing, but not wanting one had led you to tune out when people were talking about it, so you know little outside the basics of touch triggering it. It hadn’t seemed useful at the time, because why in the fuck would you need to know about something that was never going to happen to you? Now that you are in it though, you skim through articles about it, because even though you need to know at least a little more, you don’t need to know too many details.
Though some are useful to know. Like the fact that if soulmates are kept away from each other for too long, it will give negative side effects, both physical and mental. The mental you had kinda guessed, but the physical was new.
Headaches, irritable mood, nausea, and aching joints. 
Not fun.
Jesus fucking christ. 
At least your brief reading makes it seem like it doesn’t take that much to keep it in check, just some touches here and there, and time spent together. You grimace, it could have been worse you suppose, but if you have to shake Red’s hand a few times a year, and stay in a room with him for a few hours to keep your life somewhat normal otherwise, you suppose you can manage.
As much as you don’t want to.
Even as much as all you want is to forget it ever happened and leave the man alone.
If you hadn’t touched him back, he wouldn’t have even known, but you suspect if you hadn’t touched him, he would have killed you then.
Like you had him.
But in your defense, you hadn’t known, and he got back up.
So maybe you are just a little messed up, and not a lot.
After reading some more, you find out that lucky for you, soulmates can use their bond, when it’s established, to pull themselves towards their soulmate. Though the article mentioned it’s something most people only do after their bond has been strengthened and developed over time. 
You ignore that last part.
At least the article helps you visualize in your head how your feelings look like in your head. Yours are a river of color, his feelings are a tributary river that flows into yours, with another river of your feelings flowing out towards the ether, or rather, him.
Closing your eyes, you concentrate on your bond to him, the river of feelings going towards him, and those being sent to you. The weak, but pretty constant stream of feelings coming from the other man now in your mind. 
It’s hard to concentrate on, any time you open your eyes it slips into something intangible again, something that is just there, not something that leads you anywhere. So, like a fool, every so often you close your eyes while you still walk, letting your feelings guide your feet. You are certain you look stupid, walking with eyes closed and arms in front of you to make sure you don’t walk into anyone or anything.
It’s not like you keep your eyes closed for long, but it still makes you feel vulnerable.
The pull eventually leads you to an apartment building in a pretty average looking part of the city. You stand on the other side of the street for a while, to gauge how easy it will be to get in.
You can tell Red is inside the building, not moving, so you assume he’s in his apartment. You focus on his emotions, nothing sparks out, just a baseline with some spikes of happiness mixed in.
In the end, you conclude the easiest thing to do is to just wait until someone careless leaves the building, and slip in before the door can close behind them.
You lean on a wall near the front door, pretending to be engrossed in your phone as you wait.
It only takes 10 minutes for you to get your opportunity, slipping in silently and unnoticed. You take the stairs, here and there taking two steps at once, following the pull as well as you can with your eyes still open, until you find yourself in front of an apartment door where you can feel Red behind it. 
Your soulmate.
You wonder what his name actually is.
You force yourself to knock, instead of just trying to open the door, just breaking in.
There’s shuffling of feet, and to your surprise, a black woman with a white afro and sunglasses opens the door.
“What the fuck do you want?” 
“Where’s Red?”
“Who?”
“Red suit, guns and katanas, black around the eyes, a mask that is surprisingly animated?” You feel yourself getting irritated by the silence that description is met with. You wonder how much of it your soulmate is picking up. His emotions are shifting, flowing into what feels like nervousness.
You hear what sounds an awful lot like a squeak and, finally, his voice again.
“Al, close the fucking door.” 
“What the fuck have you done now?”
“Al, please!” You try to look past Al, seconds later the door is thrown shut in your face, the noise of the lock turning quickly following.
Okay, so fuck being polite. 
One deep breath, and then you’re raising one leg up, and kicking the fucking door in. There’s a yelp from someone as the door swings open fast and bounces off the wall behind it. You get into the apartment in a few quick strides, ignoring Al that is cursing at you, something about getting ‘the damn bat’.
“Okay, that was unfairly hot.” You spot him a second after the words leave his mouth. 
At least you’re fairly sure it’s him. He’s not wearing a red suit, instead he’s dressed in grey sweatpants, fuzzy pink slippers, and a red hoodie, but you recognize the bumpy skin that covers his face and hands. Which you can barely see because he is hiding behind another man where they stand in front of a dining room table. Red’s hands are on the shoulders of the man clad in flannel with rolled up sleeves and jeans that is scowling at you; his stance tense with his arms at his side.
You ignore Flannel in favor of looking at your soulmate, meeting his eyes over the shoulder of the other man.
“You are a fucking asshole Red.”
“Well done assessment there, Stab.”
“Stab?”
“Well you did almost stab me through the head before giving me your name, which, count yourself lucky cause I usually don’t put out if I don’t know what name to scream.”
“Wade, what-” Flannel starts, but you cut him off.
 “Oh, so that’s your name.” You offer up your own name. “Which you would have learned if you hadn’t run away like a fucking pussy.” Wade gasps.
“Excuse you, pussies are fucking strong as shit, they can-”
“Both of you, shut the fuck up.” Flannel barks out, shifting both of your attentions to him. “What the fuck is this?” He shakes Wade’s hands off his shoulders, taking a few steps so he’s more in the middle of the two of you. Which is not much space really, the apartment is not big, but at least it gets a little bit less full as Al leaves out the broken door, purse under her arm and muttering something you can’t hear or care to.
“Wade and I need to fucking talk. About how he is a fucking coward for fucking running.”
“I am not, just made a tactical retreat from an enemy!” Wade protests.
“We are a little past that, soulmate.” You drip venom in the last word, Flannel goes stock still as Wade draws in a sharp breath. Panic is sent through your link, which for some reason makes you angry.
“Just fucking come here.” You start to stride over towards Wade, who is frozen now. 
You don’t get past Flannel though, as he grabs you, spinning you quickly as he pins you against the dining room wall with a hand on your shoulder, metal glinting from between his knuckles as it extends and pushes against your throat, not breaking skin, but threatening to do so. 
On instinct you grab at his bare forearm, trying to pull the knives or whatever the fuck those are away from your throat, but now it’s your turn to freeze, as for the second time in as many days, you feel the sizzle in your mind of a new link forming.
What.
In.
The.
FUCK.
You look up at Flannel, startled and with your mouth hanging open. He’s frowning, tilts his head and then, slowly, his hand shifts from your shoulder to touch your neck, the closest piece of bare skin.
His eyes dilate, then he licks his lips, and you know he just felt the same thing as you did.
“What the fuck.” All three of you say in unison.
(Part 3)
181 notes · View notes
lowkeyerror · 8 months ago
Text
The Family Business Ch.5
WandaNat x Reader
Work Count: 1.2k
Chapter Notes: Angst, Violence
Summary: The guilt Wanda feels for missing your important milestones boils over and you're left trying to comfort her.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Tumblr media
Dinner was over, but the chatter continued. Wanda had snuck off to the restroom somewhere amidst the conversation. Once she had finished up, she couldn’t fight the urge to go into her old room.
It was exactly the same as she left it. The light blue walls were littered with her old posters. Her bed still had a few old stuffed animals on it. Her desk was covered with post it notes, she used for keeping track of her important things.
Had she grown more than she had realized in the last five years? Was it selfish to assume that you wouldn't have?
“Something’s bothering you.”
Wanda startles at the sound of your voice. You stand in her doorway.
“Nothing, Y/n.”
You don't believe her.
You close the door behind you and fully step into her room. “You were quiet the entire dinner.”
“I was thinking,” she replied shortly.
“About what?”
She takes a seat on her bed and exhales, “A lot has changed since I’ve been away.”
You take a seat next to her, “You were gone for awhile.”
Her eyes meet yours, “I didn’t want to be. I didn't want to miss everything.”
She began to tear up. You hadn’t seen Wanda like this before. Wanda never let anyone see her be vulnerable. Her head rests on your shoulder, and she grabs one of your hands, seeking some comfort.
“Wanda it’s alright,” you try but she cuts you off.
“It’s not, I missed your graduation,” she began to sob.
You begin to internally panic, but you have enough sense to know that this is about more than your graduation. Your arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to you. She ends up straddling your lap. Her forehead lays against yours. You do your best to wipe her tears away.
“Forgive me, Y/n. Forgive me,” her cries grow louder.
Hesitantly you grab her face in your hands. Through the tears she sees the look of worry on your face. Wanda starts wiping at the tears with her sleeves.
You stop her, “There’s nothing that you missed that I can’t tell you about now. No one blames you for missing anything. I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you’re back.”
Wanda stops crying. She sniffles a bit with a sad smile on her face, “I remember that night when you came to the door.”
Your breath hitches. Her thumb follows the path on your check where the glass had cut you.
“You were so-”
“Helpless,” you finish.
Wanda shakes her head, “You are so strong. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it to the door.  I was going to say you were so pure. The world was so cruel even though you were nothing but a light.”
“Wanda-”
“Now, I’m hearing from everyone how you’re not like that anymore, that you’ve changed. I hate having to find out about you because I should know. My wife knows about how many people you’ve killed, and I didn’t even know you had fired a gun. I hate that it feels like I don’t know you anymore.”
You were taken aback by her words. Even with her being away for 5 years, you felt like she knew you better than anyone; even Pietro. Wanda had such a deep understanding of your inner workings that it scared you a lot of the time.
It took little effort to interlock your fingers with hers. You wait for her to look at you and when she does you speak, “You know me better than anyone ever has.”
“I used to,” she tries to drop your hands.
You don’t let her, “I can’t say that I haven’t changed at all, but I’m still me Wanda. I still watch reality tv as a guilty pleasure, I still eat my cheese puffs with a fork, and I still get a little antsy in the dark.”
She laughs a bit, and the sound brings a smile to your lips.  Your nerves ease as she seems to relax.
“You’re still my little krolik then?”
You blush a little but move her off your lap. You stand and hold out your hand. She doesn’t grab it, instead turning her back towards you.
You roll your eyes, “I’ll always be your little krolik. Now can we go back downstairs.”
Wanda hesitates, “Would you tell me what you told Natasha?”
“About my first kill?”
She nods lightly, “If it’s alright with you.”
You nod and sit at the desk chair across from the bed. It’s not much easier telling Wanda than it was telling Natasha. If anything, it was harder knowing how the woman had reacted in the past when you had been hurt.
“I should’ve known about this,” she’s seething, as she speaks.
“You had just lef-”
“I don’t care if the plane was mid fucking flight! I would’ve turned that bitch around!”
Before you could try to de-escalate the situation Pietro came into the room. “Is everything alright in here, you’ve been up here for a long time?”
Wanda jumps out of the bed and grabs the man by his collar. She nearly lifts him in the air, then beats on his chest. She’s moved him from the room to the hallway., You’re too stunned to intervene.
“WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME? NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME? SOME JERK FELT HER UP AND SHE SNAPPED HIS FUCKING NECK AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME?”
Pietro remains calm, his hands rest on top of hers “Wanda it was nearly 5 years ago.”
“So why is this the first time I'm hearing of it?”  The drop in her voice snaps you out of your trance.
“Wanda put him down,” Dragos voice booms in the hallway.
She let Pietro go and instead redirects her glare to her father, “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I knew you'd react like this. You’ve always been able to handle your emotions unless Y/n was involved,” his words only seem to anger her more.
“I’m the one that can't handle my emotions when it comes to Y/n? Are we sure about that? Because if you want to play ball I will swing for the fucking fences,” she combats quickly.
You watch as the color drains from Pietro’s face and even Dragos seems to stand down a bit.
“Wanda.” Natasha’s voice is strong as she speaks, “Let’s go, ok? I think everyone just needs a little space right now.”
Wanda doesn't seem like she’s done with the conversation.
“Y/n, sweetheart I think they're staying in your building. Why don't you take them there,” Flora suggests.
You nod, unable to speak at the moment.  You can see Wanda about to argue again so you slip your hand in hers. You don’t waste time pulling her towards the stairs. Natasha holds her other hand, clearing some of the tension from her system.
You get in the drivers seat while Natasha sits in the back with Wanda. Your brain was slightly clouded as her words sat with you.  Wanda knew something that made Pietro and Dragos cower in regard to you. You wanted to press on, but you knew she was in no shape to answer.
 Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, you could see that Natasha was whispering to her, trying to calm her. You’d never known Wanda to have a temper, but apparently, when it came to you her rage seemed unrelenting.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst
491 notes · View notes
animasola86 · 5 days ago
Text
🐻 A HUG TO REMEMBER
Tumblr media
m!shapeshifter x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 7.1k
After a night full of unusual adventures and ordeals, you find yourself in the arms of your most memorable encounter, and you can't complain.
WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Aftercare! Vaginal sex! Creampies! Cockwarming! Fluff? (READ ON AO3!)
Tumblr media
This is part 6 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 It's the continuation of the continuation of OPTION 3 - can be read individually for the smut portion, but if you want to follow the plot, I'd advise reading the previous two parts or at least the first part, preferably all of them. This is the conclusion of the story after all!
CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and on your way to get some fresh air, you first run into a werewolf, who knots and breeds you, then into two vampires, who spitroast you, and after all that... here we are...
Tumblr media
“Hey. Hey, can you hear me?”
A deep voice rings in your ears, a low thrum in the void around you, muffled as if through various layers of cloth or from behind a thick door. A rasping inhale lets you stir, and slowly your body feels like your own again. Your limbs are tingling, your throat hurts, and something deep within you as well, there's an overall soreness all around, but when your eyes flutter open, you're just glad to be alive.
The sight in front of you still scares you, and you let out a hoarse whimper. A large man leans over you, tall and bulky, bulging muscles under a plaid shirt, strong legs, black hair, slightly curled and thick, a full beard, dark eyes staring down at you from under heavy eyebrows. You shy away, flinching, breathing harder.
“Hey, shh, it's all good. You're safe now,” he tells you with that low voice that vibrates through your body, and you frown, blinking at him in confusion, unable to relax as you stare at him. “Aww, don't tell me you've already forgotten about me?”
He flashes you a soft smile, exposing white teeth, and none of them seem abnormally large or pointy. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to focus on your breathing, too weak to worry about anything at this point. Suddenly you're being lifted, held by strong arms, pressed to a warm chest, and you can't help it, you lean into it, savoring the protective gesture. The man carries you away, no idea where to, doesn't matter anyway.
“They got you good, hm?” He keeps talking to you, even though you can't find the strength to reply. “Should have stayed with me, little one.”
Slowly, you blink your eyes open and stare at him, furrowing your brows, really looking at him. Why does he feel so familiar? Slowly you move your hand up and brush your fingertips against his beard, the rough texture bringing up fuzzy memories of... fur? He gives you another smile, his eyes boring into yours. Your lips part as you try to sound out a question, but the pain in your throat is too strong to get any words out.
“Yes, little Red, I am your big bad wolf,” he replies nevertheless, seemingly reading your mind. Your eyes widen. It is him. The werewolf who knotted you. This is his human form? “But don't worry too much about it now. Let's get you cleaned up first, yeah?”
A sudden rush of warmth fills your cheeks and you look away, noticing not only the ripped shirt you borrowed from him but the large amounts of dried cum and blood on your exposed skin. The state those vampires have left you in is horrible. Vampires... for fuck's sake. You wanted to tick all of what happened tonight off as a dream, a nightmare maybe even, but the evidence that it may have actually happened after all is disturbing and hard to ignore. Sighing soundlessly, you rest your head against his shoulder as it starts to spin painfully. This is all too much.
He shifts you on his arms, hugging you closer as he keeps walking. There's a faint glow around you, and you realize that the morning must be close. You survived the night, huh? You're still not too sure about it.
You end up back in his cabin, though luckily not in the primitive basement but in an actual bedroom. He puts you down gently, makes you sit on the edge of the bed as he carefully peels the remnants of his ruined shirt off your body. You just watch him when he leaves the room for a moment before returning with a bowl of water and a washcloth, and when he starts cleaning you up, you close your eyes and let him, his large hands surprisingly soft and gentle as they work.
Eventually he pushes you onto your back, and again, you let him, relaxing into the soft sheets, as he starts wiping between your legs. You shiver when he brushes against your still sensitive clit. He gives you a few rubs, but then moves on, presses the cloth to your thigh, which causes you to wince when a sharp pain jolts through you.
“Can't believe they both fed off you,” you hear him mumble, his low voice a deep rumble in the air. “Insatiable bastards.” His hand moves back to your mound, his thick fingers teasing along your slit. “And they even cleaned you out, hm? Damn, all that effort for naught...”
You slowly open your eyes, meeting his dark gaze. There's a strange tension in your stomach. He keeps rubbing your labia, slowly pressing between them. His eyes are almost black now and as intense as you remember them, even though they've looked at you out of a very different face.
“I guess I have to keep you here a little longer,” he whispers, slowly leaning over you, one hand still at your cunt, the other braced beside your shoulder as he hovers above you. Your hands move up, brushing against his hard stomach. “To make sure you're fine, of course,” he adds, smirking down at you.
You bite your lip, watching him, your fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt. You have no idea why you feel the sudden urge to pull him closer, wrap your legs around his waist and let him ravage you all over again, human form or not. This whole night has been quite the (sex) adventure, and somehow you don't want it to end. You don't want to go back to your boring life where everything is as expected, planned and sterile.
You'd rather stay with this savage man, who, considering your other encounters, has been the most memorable, and you can't wait for the moon to rise again. For now, you are also quite content with the hairy man above you. His deep laugh full of surprise echoes through the room as you grip the collar of his shirt and pull him down, smacking your mouth against his. He's quick to kiss you back, deep and passionately, your tongues meeting in a wild dance, as he leans his wide body onto yours carefully.
“Damn, Red, you developed quite the hunger, didn't you?” he mouths between kisses, his warm breath fanning over your lips. You can only nod, your cheeks burning up in slight embarrassment, but you still buck your hips up against his groin invitingly. “I'm not complaining,” he adds, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip as he responds with a roll of his pelvis.
Continuing to kiss him with a need that's new to yourself too, you let your hands wander over his broad chest before you fumble with the buttons of his shirt. You groan in slight impatience as your shaking hands can't quite finish the job. He leans back then, looking at you, then simply rips the shirt and shrugs it off nonchalantly, exposing a wide toned chest with just the right amount of dark chest hair.
Your fingers rub through it, it's not abnormally much, just enough to cover his big pecs before it thins out into a thick trail vanishing into his jeans. You follow it, palms sliding over hard muscles before your fingers curl into his belt, holding his dark gaze as you lick your swollen lips. His smirk is playful but has a dark edge to it. Instead of letting you continue on your quest to get him as naked as you are, he grabs your hands and pins them above your head, holding your wrists together with one large hand while his other hand closes around your jaw as he leans closer once more.
“You really want this, huh?” he growls quietly.
You nod frantically, not even hesitating anymore. There's a tiny bit of protest in your mind when it reminds you of the state of your sore body, but you really couldn't care less right now. You want to feel good again, and you remember, even though the details are hazy, that this man (albeit in his other form) has made you feel how you've never felt before.
He inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent, before he crashes his lips to yours again, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth. His beard rubs along your soft skin, adding to the growing desire nestling deep within you. You struggle in his hold, really needing to touch him, grab his shoulders, sink your fingers into his thick hair, feel the strength of his body, but for now all you have is his eager mouth.
Once your head is spinning and your lungs burning, he slowly moves his deep kisses down your face, along your jaw, his warm hand rubbing over your sore throat before he turns your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your heart thundering in anticipation. But there are no teeth on your skin, just wet lips and a warm tongue, as he starts sucking on your pulse, lapping at the bruises he works into you.
“Tonight,” he huffs against you, “I'm gonna mark you properly. I'll make you mine, little one, all mine. So no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”
You gasp breathlessly, still unable to get any words through your hurting throat, but he seems to understand your non-verbal agreement as he presses his lips to your neck before leaning back, looking down at you, his dark eyes wandering over your flushed face. You look back out of hooded eyes with your lips parted and quivering. It's a strangely comforting thought to have this man, this werewolf, claim you. You feel protected, safe, and even if you can't properly think about the reality of it just yet, you can't find it in you to deny him.
“Y-yours,” you manage to croak out, and a wide smile breaks on his bearded face.
He lets go of your wrists and pulls you into the embrace of his strong arms, and you immediately snake your hands around his neck and into his hair, sighing contently as you feel the thick locks between your fingers and his mouth once again on yours.
For the longest time you're just lying together, cuddled up on his bed, hands holding and exploring, tongues wrestling, his heavy body pushing you into the mattress, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You're moaning against his lips as he starts growling low in his throat, his lower body rubbing against yours with increasing need. You can feel the heat of his hard cock through his jeans, and in an attempt to show him you're ready, you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, pressing your equally hot center right against his bulge.
A snarl comes from his mouth as he leans back abruptly, braced on his arms, chest heaving, muscles dancing, before he jumps back fully, quickly fumbling with his belt and pants before he is finally completely naked, his erection bouncing against his lower stomach as he starts crawling back over you. You try to get a better look at it, but he's claiming your mouth for another kiss, though from what you've seen he may just be as big as his wolf counterpart, minus the bulbous knot, unfortunately.
But you're sure you'll experience that again very soon. The moon couldn't rise fast enough.
You expect him to immediately claim your hungrily clenching cunt, but instead of shoving his cock into you, you feel his thick fingers rubbing between your wet folds, coaxing quiet mewls out of your hurting throat. He keeps kissing you as he starts properly fingering you, pushing his long digits as deep as they would go. It's a lazy rhythm but it's enough to build up that sizzling heat inside you, and the tension builds and builds, until you cry out soundlessly against his mouth, stiffening beneath him, body arching, thighs twitching as you come hard around his fingers.
He inhales your breathless moans, plunging his tongue deeper while slowly massaging your fluttering walls, letting you down easy. You groan quietly in protest when he pulls his fingers out, the sudden emptiness almost painful. A chuckle escapes him as he presses his lips against your warm cheek and leans back, looking down. You follow his gaze and watch how he grabs his throbbing cock in his big hand, its tip as angry and red looking as you remember his wolfish dick. It's not as monstrous though, but still thick and veiny and long, and your head spins just from imagining it inside you.
You don't have to imagine it for long though when he then brings the precum leaking crown to your folds, swiping it through them to gather your slick, before he presses against your entrance, carefully, oh so careful you wish he'd be a bit rougher, and slowly your cunt opens up to him, and inch by inch, his cock disappears inside you. You arch your head back as you feel the stretch, your lips parted for a soundless moan.
He shifts on top of you, lowers himself between your wide spread legs, brings his forearms on either side of your shoulders, his hands cradling your head as he leans down again to shower your flushed face with soft kisses while he rolls his hips against you, so gentle you barely feel how he forces his cock past your resistance until he eventually bottoms out. Somehow it's a comfort to feel this full, filled and stretched, claimed.
Your hands dig into his hair, holding him tightly as you move your tongue around his, inhaling his low growls and groans as you grind your pelvis against him. His first thrust makes you see stars. It's a sudden jolt of pain, a deep little stab, and you flinch, gasping. He leans back and watches you, his eyes so dark and intense you can only stare back. He thrusts again, taking in your reaction, and when you flinch once more, he soothes his hands over your head.
“Does it hurt?” he asks gravelly, his voice vibrating through you, adding to the building heat inside you.
“No,” you croak out. There's discomfort, in your throat, in your ass, but your cunt feels right with his cock moving within it, a perfect fit, a thing meant to be. Your hands move to his face, rubbing over his bearded cheeks. “Keep going,” you manage to whisper past the ache. “Please...”
His lips curl up into a smirk before he leans down to kiss yours softly, then suddenly sits up fully, braced on his strong arms, resting on his haunches. He grabs your thighs and drapes them over his, and you automatically wrap your legs around his body and cross your feet, holding onto him as he starts snapping his hips against you, his large hands now on your waist, thumbs pressing onto your fluttering stomach.
He falls into a slow but steady rhythm, pushing deep and simultaneously pulling you into his thrusts, and all you can do is fall back into the softness of the bed and let it happen, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moan and mewl, your eyes rolling back in growing pleasure. He's much more careful than he was in his wolf form, really looks out for you, but still uses all of his body to stimulate yours.
You feel hot and cold all over, goosebumps rippling over your skin, deep shivers crashing through you, that heat building up deep within, ready to explode into a ravaging wildfire. Wet squelching sounds mix with the loud slapping of skin against skin, add to that your breathless gasps and his low grunts and groans, and you feel your head spinning in the best kind of vertigo.
When he eventually picks up the pace, you are immediately propelled up into new spheres of bliss, your eyes flying open as he grips your waist harder, moves his hips faster, his cock pistoning in and out with force and fervor. Your walls clench around him, your whole body shuddering under the assault. Hoarse moans escape you, lips parted wide, lungs burning, that tension in your stomach bordering on painful.
You come with a shrill squeak, almost soundless, ripping through your sore throat, but all you feel is burning pleasure, all-consuming, taking over every nerve and muscle, and he keeps fucking you through it with hard and deep thrusts, forcing through your tightening walls as they clamp around him with a force that makes you dizzy. He grunts loudly, shifting on top of you until his entire body rests on yours, pushing you into the bed, a comforting weight that keeps you grounded as you float away on that tidal wave of pleasure.
His hips smack into yours, even faster, more urgent and frantic, his groans getting louder as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your fluttering pulse. You gasp beneath him, your trembling arms snaking around his body until you sink your fingernails into his back, holding on for dear life as he fucks you with reckless abandon.
It's all a blur now, a whirlwind of noises and sensations, little jolts of pain and overwhelming slaps of bliss, you can't breathe, you can't move, you can just take it, and you take it with growing need, absorbing every pummeling thrust, every deep plunge, every poke at your cervix, every drag along your walls, every rub against your clit. His breath is hot against your neck, his heavy body embracing you whole, eager to swallow you up, make you his. And you're here for it. For him.
Your noises grow louder, forcing out of your body, whines and wails, moans and mewls, your voice coming back slowly before you'll lose it all over again. He's hammering into you now, making you both bounce on the bed, a feral rutting that is all too familiar to you. You cling to him, arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the rough texture of his beard and the soft curls of his hair, and in your daze you see the wolf above you, his long snout, those sharp teeth, the long panting tongue, and you hear the low growls and snarls, the animalistic need to breed his mate, and it's that image that makes you come again, hard, uncontrollable twitches making your whole body convulse beneath him as you let out the loudest moan yet.
He slows then, labored breaths in your ear, hot against your skin, before you feel him shuddering as well, his big body trembling on top of yours, and his last thrust is particularly deep, a hard punch into your cervix that forces another explosion of pain and pleasure through you, and with a long groan he comes inside you, his cock throbbing, his balls drawn up tight between your folds, twitching with every spurt of hot cum he leaves deep inside of you.
You hold onto him, hands soothing over his broad back, as he fills you up, and because there's no knot to keep it in, his warm seed soon presses past your connection, seeping out of you in lazy globs that feel warm and soothing against your puckered hole. You slowly relax beneath him, coming down gently from all those highs, and his deep sigh vibrates through you as he does the same, putting his entire weight on you.
Your lips press against the top of his head, the scent of his hair, a mixture of pine and grass and earth, fills your nostrils. You close your eyes, a soft smile creeping onto your features as you feel his beard rubbing against your neck, a low hum escaping him in response. For a moment you just lie like this, both boneless and exhausted, his cock still giving the occasional twitch as another spurt of his seed pumps into you while your cunt clenches lazily around him, and you could fall asleep like that, overwhelmed by a strange kind of comfort you've never experienced before.
You could certainly get used to this...
Before you can drift off, he suddenly moves, his muscles working as he pulls his arms around you and rolls you both onto your sides. You already miss his weight on you, his enveloping warmth, but he quickly pulls you into him, pressed to his wide chest, and you nuzzle into his hoarse chest hair, inhaling deeply. He tilts his hips, and you feel his cock slipping free, followed by a surge of warm cum flowing out of your pulsing pussy.
He groans as he puts a hand between your legs and tries to hold it in, fingers eagerly pushing his seed back between your tight muscles, and before you know it, you are being rolled around until your back is to his groin, and he lifts your leg and replaces his fingers with his cock, still impressively hard as it slips back home, filling you out all over again. A soft moan escapes you as he drapes his large body around yours, holding you tightly against him, his beard rubbing against your cheek before you turn your head and meet his lips for a soft kiss.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice just a low thrum in the air.
“Yes,” you breathe against him, reaching out a hand to grab his face, pulling him even closer. “Never better...”
He smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss as he grinds his hips against your rear, though he doesn't move much, not intending to fuck you all over again, and he stops completely once his entire cock is fed deep into your cunt, just resting there, hot and heavy. His hand moves to your stomach, and yours joins soon after, fingers interlacing as you both feel the tightness of your belly and the slight bulge his cock and cum created. It's a pleasant fullness, a soft warmth both inside and out, a comfort you don't want to let go, ever.
Eventually you do slip away into unconsciousness, mid-kiss, with your lips brushing against his, before he wraps his arm tightly around you and nuzzles against your neck, your head lolling away as sleep grabs you tightly.
You wake up in almost the same position, with this large man wrapped around your smaller body, holding you tightly, his cock still very much buried inside you, but now he's sleeping, soft snores rumbling through him, deep inhales letting his toned chest rub against your back. You blink your eyes into focus and look around the room, bathed in bright sunlight that hurts your eyes, and you wonder how you got here, how a mysterious invitation to a (not at all) simple Halloween party brought you into the arms of a man who will turn into a monster as soon as the moon rises.
It still doesn't make sense, none of it, and maybe nothing of it happened after all? You did sleep with the man draped around you, that was real, but maybe that was it? The rest was just some alcohol-induced fever dream? Maybe. It would be easier to believe for sure, easier than whatever your mind tries to tell you may have happened. For now, you force the contradicting thoughts away and focus on the very real man snuggled up to you.
Lifting a hand, you rub it along his thick forearm, feeling those bulging veins under his tight skin and the hard muscles flexing slightly as you do so. A few seconds later, he stirs behind you, inhaling deeply.
“Awake already?” he rumbles into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your jaw.
“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper, lying as still as possible in his embrace.
“All good,” he replies with a groan as he grinds his hips into you.
Immediately you feel a burning pain crashing through you, your muscles tight around his cock, too tense to allow for much movement that doesn't hurt. He stops, his hand moving from your stomach down between your legs, fingertips brushing against your hooded clit, slowly waking up those resisting nerves.
You gasp softly, arching into him at the sensation. “Have I told you how wonderful you feel wrapped around my cock?” he breathes against you, sending shivers down your spine. “You do, such a perfect fit. Molded to me, haven't you?”
You hum in response, closing your eyes as you relax under his ministrations. Your muscles ease, allowing his cock to slide back and forth slightly, and before you know it, he's coaxing a gently building orgasm out of you that makes you keen in agonizing bliss as it crescendos into another one of those mind-blowing experiences that have you twitching uncontrollably. He quickens his thrusts, eager to follow you over the edge, and when he does, he grunts into your ear, holds you tightly against him, his hips jerking against your rear as he adds hot spurts of cum to your burning juices.
You sigh deeply when he stills, leaning into him, breathing hard from not doing much, and you realize you always want to wake up like this, in the arms of this man, fucked fully awake by his amazing cock. As soon as the post-orgasmic clarity settles in, you also realize that this will never become a reality. It can't. How should it? You barely know him, he's a werewolf, it was just a one-night-stand, he's a werewolf, you have to go back to the city soon.
Inhaling sharply, you stiffen in his hold, trying to ignore the soft kisses he plants on your neck and shoulder before he slowly moves back, detaches himself from you and your fluttering depths, and as soon as his cock slips free, a warm wave of cum seeps from between your thighs. You press them together, rolling up into the sheets when his warm body is gone. He stands from the bed, stretching, then walks wordlessly into the bathroom.
Maybe it's better this way. You shouldn't get too attached. He lives in a cabin in the woods, might be connected to the mysterious house you were invited to last night, and when you remember the drive here correctly, it did take you quite a while to get here. You can't do a long-distance relationship, it'll eat you up, you just know it. And he can't come visit you either, what if he turns into a monster and ravages half the city block?
Though he did seem to have his urges under control (more or less anyway) when you first encountered him, but still, the city is no place for a werewolf.
And what if this is just a fling for him anyway? What if you are the only one stressing about what happens next? But he did say he wanted to make you his, his mate, for nobody else to touch, wait, yes, he promised you he'd do that tonight, but... what if that was just some lust-induced dirty talk? It would mean you'd have to stay the whole day, wait for the moon to rise, and you can't do that.
You have a job to go back to, a boring life that waits to be continued. This party was already a big step out of your comfort zone, you can't just throw your life away for a hot guy, can you?
Groaning in frustration, you grab the pillow and bury your burning face in it, hoping to smother the thought carousel before it gets out of hand. Seriously. Since when are you such an overthinker?
A sudden noise makes you stiffen. He's back from the bathroom. But you can't look at him. You should leave. End it before it gets complicated.
“Do you want to shower next? It's still nice and toasty in there,” you hear his low voice, muffled through the pillow.
You grunt a reply, and without acknowledging his towering form in the room, you slip off the bed and into the bathroom. The shower, however steamy it is, clears your head, and when you reemerge, dried off with the provided towels, you wrap one around your body and slowly step back into the bedroom, bracing yourself for what may come next.
You find the man whose name you never learned sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in another plaid shirt and dirty jeans, and he's holding a stack of clothes, your blouse and skirt as you recognize, and the red cloak he was so fond of last night. You walk up to him and take the items, biting your lip as you nod at him. He watches you as you re-enter the bathroom to get dressed, which seems silly considering he's seen every inch of your body multiple times by now.
By the time you're dressed and ready to leave this all behind, your stomach is tense. “I...” you start as you meet him back in the bedroom, wringing your hands nervously.
He tilts his head, deep creases on his forehead. “Are you hungry?” he asks then, ripping you out of your dark thoughts.
You blink slowly, parting your lips only to press them together again. Then you just nod. He smiles at you, his whole face lighting up, the frown disappears while other creases appear in the corners of his eyes, dimples on his cheeks, almost hidden by his thick beard. He stands up and reaches for you, and you don't even hesitate when you put your small hand onto his large palm.
He leads you towards a small kitchen that opens into a cozy looking living room with a big couch and a fireplace. As you sit down on one of the bar stools lining the island, he rounds the counter and starts preparing breakfast. You focus on him, trying to ignore the ongoing debate in your head. In the end you and your overbearing mind come to the conclusion that you'll just enjoy the moments you still have with him, before you have to leave.
“Hey, um, you never told me your name,” you say a little shyly as you watch him crack some eggs into a sizzling pan.
“It's Bear,” he tells you, turning his head to meet your curious gaze. His dark eyes gleam in the sunlight flooding through the large window of the living room. They glow like amber.
“Bear?” you repeat, frowning with a smirk. “But... you're a werewolf. That's kinda ironic.”
He chuckles deeply. “Maybe, yeah. But you know, I wasn't born a werewolf, I was born a shapeshifter.”
Your eyebrows rise at that. “What?”
“I can shift into various animals. Usually a big black bear, sometimes a large wolf too. Or a fox if I feel playful.” His voice is so even, natural, he's either a great story teller and liar or... no, this can't be true.
“You're kidding me,” you whisper, leaning onto your elbow.
He winks at you. “Nope, I am a shapeshifter. It runs in my family.” He moves the pan over the burner for a moment before he pulls it off and turns fully to you. “You accepted that I am a werewolf, but this is baffling you?” he asks with a smirk. “These grounds have always been in the care of my ancestors, for a very long time. I'm just the latest groundskeeper.”
“So you belong to the house?” you ask quietly, trying to make sense of what he's told you.
“In a way. The house has a strange history, to be honest,” he says, inhaling deeply as he stops the meal prepping and crosses his strong arms in front of his chest. Leaning against the counter, he watches you, and you frown, urging him to continue. “Well, you see, it shouldn't be here,” he goes on ominously.
“What do you mean?”
“It was built on land that shouldn't be built on,” he clarifies. “I don't want to go into too much detail, but, well, people back in the day didn't care about traditions or customs, or warnings. They just did what they wanted, took what they desired. So the house was built, and my family was asked to leave the grounds. Of course that couldn't happen. Somehow we made the compromise that we could stay and care for the grounds and the forest, and they let us. But it wasn't a fair exchange, as were most things back then...”
You listen with growing interest, your eyes wandering over his tan skin and the deep sorrow in his eyes. He keeps talking, his voice low and almost melancholy.
“Some of us didn't like it, and... well, things got out of hand. There was a shaman who lived deep in the forest, and she didn't accept neither the new house nor our willingness to work for those people, so she threw around some curses...”
“Curses?” you echo, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Yes, ancient magic made worse by strong emotions. Some say the shaman was fueled by the injustice of the situation, others think she may have had an affair with the house owner, or... well, maybe something else happened, something darker, nobody really knows. But her magic was so strong it is still up today.”
You stare at him, both fascinated and deeply unsettled by his story.
“For one, she cursed us groundskeepers with Lycanthropy, which, us being shapeshifters, shouldn't have been such a bad deal, but you see, I can control turning into animals, I cannot control turning into a werewolf under the full moon. It took me a long time to control myself while transformed as well. The creature you met yesterday was just a shadow of the monster I used to be.”
Your eyes widen, before you blink and frown. He takes a step closer, towering over you as if to trigger your fight or flight instinct. But you're eerily calm when you watch him. “I'm not afraid of you,” you whisper, reaching out a hand towards him. He smiles softly, a sad twinkle in his eyes as he puts his long fingers around yours, squeezing them gently.
“You're special, Little Red,” he whispers, eyeing you closely. “And probably the first to even find your way onto my grounds.” He sighs loudly when your frown deepens. “You see, the shaman also cursed the house. I can't even really explain it, just... well, it slips in and out of existence. It's always there, but it cannot be perceived all the time.”
Your mouth falls open slightly. That explains why you couldn't remember ever seeing it before. You nod to his words, and he continues.
“Sometimes, on special occasions, it reaches out into the world, trying to lure in lost souls. You came here for a party, right?” You nod again. “You see, the inhabitants of the house, staff included, they cannot leave. So they invite random people hoping that some will stay and join them. Nobody usually does. Most come here to party, enjoy a special night they will forget as soon as they step foot over the threshold.”
He tilts his head, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as he stares down.
“Can you remember what happened in the house?” he asks, slowly looking up.
Your mind buzzes. “Faintly. I mean, hmm,” you make, pulling your eyebrows together as you try to think back to the party. There was a party, right? A Halloween party, yeah, colorful lights through the windows, the low thrum of the bass of the music. You see the invitation in your mind's eye, you assume there have been a lot of people in costumes, food and drinks, but... the more you try to think about details the less feedback you get. It's all fuzzy.
Well, not all of it. It's blurry but you see a mask looming over you, a stranger's voice in your ear, a cold knife against your skin. And after that (or before? You can't be sure) there's the sound of rushing water, then... nothing, just a thrum in your head, deafening silence almost. And it wasn't nothing, there was something, very invasive, you can almost feel it, all over your skin, and more than that... deep inside you. A shiver crashes through your body as you force away the strange sensation.
You look up at the tall man in front of you. “You can't, hm?” he growls quietly, and you nod, deciding it would be best not to share those particular memories with him. “You weren't meant to stay then. Lucky me,” he adds, his serious face morphing into a smile. You blush deeply at how intense his dark eyes look at you. “Instead you ran right into my arms.”
You look away with a shy chuckle. “Well, I did run away from you as well,” you whisper.
“You didn't know better,” he says, letting go of your hand to walk around the island until he's standing behind you, his large hands heavy on your shoulders. You turn your head slightly, trying to look at him out of the corner of your eye. He leans closer, rubs his beard against your cheek. “But you learned your lesson, didn't you?”
Somehow his words sound both enticing and flirting, but also a little threatening and menacing. You shiver. “I...”
“You won't run away from me again, right?” he whispers, his low voice just a thrum in the air, a vibration through your head. “I told you you are mine now. I won't let you go.”
You swallow, stiffening slightly. “But...”
“You were called here,” he continues, ignoring your feeble attempts of protesting. “The house invited you, beckoned you, but it couldn't hold you, you left, stepped into the maze, found me...” He inhales deeply, leaning his chin on your shoulder. “You found what you were looking for.”
You blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Like I said, the house calls upon the lost souls, those who wander through life. Some answer, either to find what they are looking for or to never leave again. Think, little one, were you a lost soul, trapped in a boring life with no way out? I believe you were, but no longer, hm?”
Slowly you break your stupor and turn around on the stool, fully facing him. He leans back a little, watching you closely. His words confuse you, but they poke into the dark corners of your mind, at the things you've hidden away. Your desires that could never come true. Like this. With him, this can't come true, right?
How can you throw away your old life because of some ancient hocus-pocus beckoning you to a place where you will find... what? All the answers? True love? Your soulmate or something? Or just a guy who can give you some much-needed cuddles and mind-blowing sex? Is that it? You never believed in the supernatural or paranormal. All this talk about curses and lost souls and werewolves – Hang on. You blink slowly.
You'd be pretty ignorant to disregard all the things that have happened. You saw his werewolf form, you know it intimately. And you were abducted by vampires, ravaged and bitten. They exist. And this man in front of you exists. Sure, you never saw him transform, but you believe him. He feels real and genuine.
And the way he looks right into your soul, picks up on those urges you keep fighting. You already told yourself that you want this, wake up in his arms, be with him, experience that knot again. It is all strange and unnatural, but then again... Maybe you were looking for something like this. You'd have never thought you'd end up with an actual shapeshifter, a werewolf, but does it matter in the end?
He is still a man, a big strong man with the right hardware, and as you feel the warmth creeping into your cheeks, scolding yourself for thinking such primal thoughts, you bite your lip, your eyes wandering over his hairy face. Slowly, you raise your hands and brush your fingertips against his beard, tracing the edges. He watches you, a twinkle in his brown eyes.
“I don't have a choice, right? Fate decided for me,” you say quietly. A deep dimple forms beneath your hand as he smiles at you.
“Indeed it did, little one,” he replies gravelly. “And no one should challenge fate.”
“Hmm,” you hum, cupping his face as you pull yourself closer to him. Before you can, however, meet his lips like you intended, you pause, a thought crashing through your head. “Hey, uh, you said you'd make me your mate. Does that mean I'll become a werewolf too?”
He blinks slowly before he barks a deep laugh. “Your mind works in fascinating ways, Red,” he muses, but then sighs and leans back, slipping from your hold. “No, you won't become like me. It's part of the curse. I'm destined to stay alone.”
“Wait, but I thought... we...”
His arms wrap around your shoulders and lift you up easily as he presses you to his wide chest. “Alone with my cursed fate, but I feel this doesn't count. You came to me, we found each other in the maze. It was your destiny that we met. You may just be the first to fight the pull of the house, it's a sign. And I'd be stupid to let you go ever again...”
You snake your hands under the strong grip of his literal bear hug, gripping at the back of his shirt. “I won't leave,” you mumble into his chest. “I want to stay... with you...”
He leans you back and grips your upper arms, looking down at you with warm eyes. “Good, I'm glad. I was already worried where I'd put your cage.”
You frown before you see his wink and blush deeply, giggling softly as you slap your hand against his chest in mock indignation. “Leave the kinky stuff for when we know each other a bit better?” you tease with a smirk.
He laughs, a deep rumble in the air, and pulls you into another hug. You wrap your arms around his waist and inhale deeply, sinking into his strength and all-consuming warmth.
You came here for a night of partying, drinking, eating, meeting people. To let loose. Have a little adventure. In the end you found so much more.
1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6
Tumblr media
End notes: Thank you for joining me on this ride! I really appreciate the support! I'm happy you liked my little experiment!
It started as a means to get as many monster encounters as possible into one story, but it ended with actual plot, who would've thunk! And the best part, if you enjoyed it, there will be more!
I will expand on the story of Bear and Reader, giving them their own adventure, AND, because I initially intended to wrap this up differently, I will add some bonus chapters to tie up any loose ends of this story, hopefully. Stay tuned!
A little research side note and disclaimer: I know this is just a silly little fantasy smut story, but I still tend to research quite a bit for my writing. I mentioned above that a shaman cursed Bear and the house, and I just want to make clear that, while I hint at certain dynamics and historical "facts" (really vaguely implying that Bear and his family are from an indigenous tribe and the house owners are some colonizers/settlers taking over their lands), I do not mean any offense by using this word or any other implications made. I looked for a better term, but couldn't find any in the time I had to edit this. In the end, I am just a smut writer and a European at that. I know I only grazed this topic and was mostly only inspired by it, but I am still sorry if I offended anyone with what I wrote or implied!
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS
KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST
218 notes · View notes