#I just think they should chill in the woods for a bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gilverrwrites · 9 months ago

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Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

#gilverrwrites #anon #dc #reader insert #jason todd #jason todd/reader #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood/reader #x reader #f reader #/reader #imagine #divider by @anitalenia #1k

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imsilay · 2 years ago

Text

MORNING ROUTINE

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: gn (i think), cockwarming, oral s*x, dom!König, size k!nk, no fluff, hair pulling, manhandling? (lmk if i forget something)

summary: König has a strange morning routine and you’re a big part of it. (or best way to deal with his morning wood) :>

art cr: @/CNT_GITEI_ on twt

König was lying on the bed, his back against the headboard, and reading some news from the tablet in his hands. It was one of his hobbies, and he often did it in the early hours of the day. He scrolled through the page and landed on a news article that interested him. “Nicht bewegen.” (don’t move.) he mumbled not looking up from what he’s reading. He ran his free hand through your hair then let it rest on the back of your neck.

Of course you were a part of his routine. He would put you to use by letting you cockwarm him with his cock buried deep inside your mouth. He adjusted his hips but it only made his cock hit deeper into your throat. You whined as you looked up into his eyes, his expression hidden behind his mask, desperately trying to find any trades of mercy. He simply couldn’t care less. Yet you looked delicious with the drool and his precum dripping down from your chin to your neck. “You’re doing good, Maus.” he mumbled as his gaze met your pleading one. “Just a little bit more, breath with your nose. You could do it f’me, ja?” he caressed your hair tenderly like he wasn’t choking you with his fat cock.

You whined again as your fingers dug into his thighs trying not to cry. It was too much. He was so big that you barely could breathe. Eventually you pulled back and coughed. “Please König it’s too hard.” your voice was hoarse from all the time he kept your mouth on his cock. He woke you up in the early hours of the morning and first thing he did was shoving his cock down your throat. “Are you complaining? Should i teach you how to behave, again?” he scowled and grabbed a fistful of your hair yanking your head back and watching the tears roll down from your eyes.

In his mind, you should be thankful for him letting you cockwarm him. You felt chills run down your spine when he mentioned to make you behave. He was absolutely cruel. He wouldn’t let you cum for a whole week or even a month. He would stop right before your toes curl and legs shook, you would be left in anticipation and a desire to touch yourself. Oh, touching yourself was also forbidden during the time you’re being punished. If you’re stupid enough to do and get caught -either way he would know- the punishment would get longer and more severe.

You quickly apologized as you sob and placed kisses on his tip. You knew he wanted you to appreciate him, to worship his every part. Especially his cock which he shoved into your throat again after you apologized. “Braves Mädchen.” he said with a satisfied smile and caressed your hair. “Be good f’me then you will get your reward, Maus.”

He read a few news more whilst he caressed your hair. When his cock started twitching and your throat get more warm around him he started moving your head back and forth. He didn’t care your cries and muffled noises as he chased his orgasm. He grabbed your head with both of his hands as he used your mouth all he wanted and you couldn’t do anything about it. Could you even think when he fucked your throat with his fat cock?

His cock never failed to make you dumb. That was why you were so powerless against him. Actually what you could do when that mountain of a man manhandled you and fucked you dumb like that? He was like a god in your eyes when he used you, you were perfect toy for him. Your thoughts cut off when his movements began to become erratic. You knew he was about to cum when the back of his head pressed against the headboard behind him and his hips rolling up to meet your mouth. “Ready for your reward, Maus?” he mumbled between his groans and heavy breathing. You dug your nails into his thighs as a response and the sensation drew a low groan from him, he finished right after that. Deep down into your throat. He pulled his cock out from your mouth reluctantly. He didn’t wanted to leave the warmth of your throat but he knew you needed a break. “Swallow.” he wiped the moistness from your chin with his big palm. You did as he said without hesitation, like a good toy you are. “Braves Mädchen.” he purred and pulled you into his lap. He lifted his mask up, just revealing his lips before slamming them to yours and tasting himself from your lips.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3

i just had to write this before sleep and now it’s 6:36 AM here. and i’m sleepless :,)

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

#konig smut #konig #konig x y/n #konig x reader #konig x you #konig cod #i know it’s könig #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig #könig cod #könig fanfiction #könig x you #obsessed könig #dom könig #silay

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unoislazy · 1 year ago

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Hello ! Sorry for my bad English, it's not my first language I do my best

First of all, I love how you write <3

Second, my request would be Hiccup getting jealous and confessing to fem!reader by accident

That's all !

Thanks for writing so well, I send you a little kiss

Hello!

Congrats you’re my first request!

I hope I could do your request justice, enjoy

Just Talk To Me!

Hiccup x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k words

Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you why.

————————————————————

“You’re getting better at this!” Eret praised, ducking under your fist as you swung at him. He continued to dodge your strikes as you smiled.

You both had begun sparring together a few months ago, after the whole Dragon War fiasco. You realized that without your dragon, you weren’t as strong or as agile as the other Vikings, so you asked Eret to help you train.

You swept your foot under him, finally taking him down and putting your foot on his chest, signifying that you had one the fight.

“Have I gotten better, or have you just gotten worse?” You asked teasingly, taking your foot off of him as he smiled up at you.

You held out your hand to help him up. He obliged, taking it as he stood up once again, wiping off his clothes from that dust that truly didn’t even seem to be there.

“You’ve certainly made improvements since day one. I can tell you that.” He said, stretching a bit. “You could definitely do well even without your dragon, if you’d ever need to.” He continued, looking back at both of your dragons who were simply chilling off to the side, as they often did when you two fought.

“Hopefully there never comes a time.” You said in a lighthearted tone, but you truly hoped there would never be a time where you’d have to fair without your dragon.

“I second that. It’s funny, I never thought I’d ever change my ways when it came to dragons. Yet here I am, looking after this beast.” Eret joked, patting Skull Crushers head lightly causing the dragon to groan and slightly shake its head in response.

“Well I’m glad you had it in you to change, who knows maybe I would’ve taken you down myself.” You gloated sarcastically, walking towards the pair as Eret smiled back at you, acknowledging your joke.

“Yeah you wouldn’t have made it even close.” He let out a chuckle as he watched your teasing smirk turn to a pout. You knew his teasing was all in good fun but realistically if it had come to it you would’ve taken him out if you needed to.

“Just cause I’ve gotten better doesn’t mean I wasn’t skilled to begin with.” You reminded.

“Fair. Now how about best two out of three?” Eret asked, getting into a fighting stance which you very quickly mimicked. Just as you both were about to start fighting you had heard a very familiar growl come from above. Your head shot up towards the noise and you spotted none other than Hiccup Haddock, the chief of Berk, flying above you.

“Guess not.” You joked, no longer standing in a ready position as you turned to face the aforementioned chief who had landed not too far away from the both of you. Hiccup hopped off of Toothless with ease, slipping his helmet off in the process, and walked over to the two of you with Toothless close behind.

“Morning you two.” Hiccup greated, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the both of you. “What are you guys doing all the way out here?” He asked but you noticed it wasn’t in the sense of his usual curiosity. There was an underlying tone that you could quite put your finger on so you figured you were just simply thinking too much into it.

You hadn’t really thought about it but you suppose you and Eret were more or less in the middle of nowhere in the woods. It was the most quiet place the two of you could find to practice in peace without going to the Arena.

“Eret and I have been sparring, I figured I should eventually learn how, considering most of my strength comes from them.” You said, gesturing to your dragon who was sleeping peacefully only to be startled awake by Toothless patting them on the head. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Toothless always reminded you of a cat in a way, you found it adorable.

“Alone?” Hiccup asked, which honestly surprised the both of you. You looked towards hiccup in confusion only to see the shock he had on his own face. Clearly he didn’t mean to let it slip out but it was too late to take it back now.

“Well no… our dragons are here with us?” You stated but you were so confused about the reasoning behind Hiccups question that you couldn’t seem to phrase it as anything other than a question. You all fell silent as Hiccup swayed his arms in an awkward fashion, something he only does when he’s trying to avoid talking about something.

Eret looked between the two of you, realizing he had no part in the conversation he simply cleared his throat.

“I’ll just leave you two be, I have some… things to take care of..” He excused himself, quickly hopping onto Skullcrusher and exiting the awkward situation as quickly as possible. Once Eret had flown away you quickly turned back to Hiccup who was clearly avoiding even looking in your general direction.

“Spill it.” You said bluntly causing Hiccup to finally make eye contact with you. His face held a confused look but you both knew what you were talking about.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Hiccup said, again clearly avoiding the topic as he walked over to Toothless. “Have you seen the new addition I added to Toothless’s tail?” It was clear he was trying to think of anything to change the subject because obviously there was nothing different about Toothless’s tail and you both knew that.

You crossed your arms as you stared at the brunette before you, your face holding an expression that clearly said ‘seriously?’. He dropped Toothless’s tail with a sigh before getting up and walking towards you. Silence quickly swept over the two of you as you continued to wait for Hiccup to say something. You raised an eyebrow at him before he blurted out,

“Have you seen the new scale armor?”, giving one more quick shot to derail the conversation.

“Hiccup.” You said quite sternly. “Spill it.” You repeated, your arms still crossed over your chest as you watched the man nervously fidget. He may be the chief but he still held some of his nervous quirks. Sure he had the ability to look powerful and calm when his people needed their chief, but when he wasn’t the ‘Chief of Berk’ he was just Hiccup.

Just Hiccup.

And you’d be damned if you said you didn’t love him. Ever since you met hiccup you knew he always tried to meet everyone’s expectations only to have a long history of falling short. Hiccup as he was was always overlooked, everyone looked to him to be ‘the Chiefs son’ the ‘next chief of Berk’ and the one he really struggled with, was ‘Stoick’s son’. No one ever truly looked at him as just Hiccup.

Well everyone except you.

You liked him from the very beginning when he was just a scrawny boy obsessed with earning his fathers approval. Did you have the courage to say anything about the way you felt? No of course not, why would you? As much as you loved to see him as ‘Just Hiccup’ you couldn’t deny the fact that he was still pretty far out of your league, especially given his title of ‘The Dragon Master’. What title did you have? Nothing.

Well you had the title of being one of his closest friends so you stuck with that as being enough for you.

“I just don’t think you and Eret should be so far away while training.” He finally spoke up. It was clear he was still keeping something from you but at least he gave you something to work with.

“Why?” You asked, trying to nudge more out of him. He put his hands on his hips. As he began to pace slowly in a circle.

“I don’t know, I just think it would be safer if you-“ Hiccup began only for you to cut him off.

“Hiccup we have two dragons here, one of them being Skull Crusher. I’d say it’s pretty safe to say nothings going to attack us out here.” You argued, now mimicking his pose with your hands on your hips.

“Well still I just don’t like the idea of you guys being alone.” He said, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes in response,

“Hiccup I already said, we’re here with the dragons. We’re not alone.” You stated as if it wasn’t getting through his head. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was trying to hint at a different concern and you were missing the point entirely.

Your response only caused Hiccup to groan as his hand shot up to his face. He dragged his hands down his face as he turned around, now facing Toothless who simply looked at his friend in utter confusion. The dragon looked from you, then to Hiccup, then back to you. You simply shook your head with a shrug of your shoulders before Toothless walked away, deeming him your problem.

“Hiccup I don't understand why this is such a big issue to you, we used to be in the woods alone all the time together. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.” You stated quite bluntly.

“That was different!” He shouted. His face had ever so slightly turned the faintest hint of red, but it was still enough for you to notice. He seemed almost exasperated as you continued to swim around the very vague point that he was failing to get at.

“How was it any different than what me and Eret are doing? If anything it’s safer now because we’re both adults. Granted we did have a Night Fury with us back then…” You began to mumble to yourself, accidentally going off topic. Hiccup sighed, walking up to you and grabbing you by your shoulders. He was stern but still managed to be gentle as he forced you to look at him.

“I can’t control what you do or who you spend your time with, but I just don’t like that you and Eret spend so much time together, so far outside of the village, alone…” Hiccup said, practically laying it all out for you.

“Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re not alone.”

Hiccup merely stared at you, eyes wide in shock as he tried to calculate your intelligence in that split second. He practically spelled it out for you and you still weren’t getting it.

What hadn’t occurred to him however, was that you had already caught on, you were just trying to get him to admit it himself. Granted, you had just caught on maybe seconds before, but you still thought it might be fun to mess with him a little. Besides, who were you to make the assumption that the Chief of Berk himself was jealous that you were spending time with another man. It could be considered a reach… Unless he just said it himself.

“Why don’t you want me to be alone with him so badly?” You asked, figuring you should try and at least break the loop that you two seemed to be stuck in.

“Because…” Hiccup began, trying to think of a way to phrase what he wanted to say. You waited patiently, just looking at him and occasionally switching your gaze over to the dragons who were chasing each other around.

“Because?” You repeated, waiting for his response. His green eyes staring back into yours. They looked almost as if they were trembling as they bounced between the features on your face.

“Why is it so hard to talk to you?” He shouted abruptly, quickly letting go of your shoulders and flung his arms into the air with an exasperated groan.

“If it was easier for you to tell me about the dragon you were keeping hidden from a village filled with bloodthirsty, war hungry Vikings, I’ m almost afraid of whatever this could possibly be.” You joked, trying to lighten his mood.

“It’s not the same thing.” He muttered in response as you laughed.

“How could anything you have to tell me be worse than that?” Hiccup sighed in response as he went back to pacing. Clearly it was his way of thinking about what to do next. It wasn’t a trait he often exhibited but you knew once he started pacing, whatever he was thinking about was pretty serious.

“It’s not about what I have to tell you, it’s about your response.” He finally said, you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. You’ve known this man for years, and in those years you’ve learned countless embarrassing facts about him that he had less of a problem about you knowing than ‘whatever he had to tell you’.

“What does my response have to do with anything? Hiccup, anything you have to tell me won't change anything.” You stated with a laugh as you tried to comfort him. You almost started to second guess what you thought he was going to tell you. If he was truly this worried about what he was going to say maybe it was actually a very serious matter?

“Ha, yeah you say that now.” He laughed sarcastically, quickly looking up at you before returning to his pacing.

“Hiccup, I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

If there’s one thing about Hiccup it was his stubbornness. Anyone would just shrug that off as a Viking thing but you knew if anything, it came from his father. As much as Hiccup would deny being able to compare to his father, he shared many similar traits with him. You knew it, his mother knew it, even Gobber knew it, but he frequently denied it.

Stubborn.

“Why are you so concerned about me and Eret in the first place?” You decided to bring up the last topic, because if he wasn’t going to get to the point, you were.

“Because…” He muttered quietly in response as if he was holding something back.

“Because what hiccup? Seriously, I know you have an issue with communication sometimes but you can't just keep dancing around the issue here-“ You rambled a bit but before you could continue, Hiccup interrupted you.

“Because I have feelings for you!” He blurted out suddenly.

You both froze. He turned away from you as you simply stared at him. He finally said it, he actually really said it.

“Hiccup…” You muttered quietly.

He didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. The last thing he wanted right now was to turn around and have to face the potential of rejection.

“Hiccup.” You called out again, walking towards him and lightly placing your hand on his shoulder. He finally turned towards you slightly, but he still refused to face you all the way. “You’re serious?” You asked, to which he simply looked at you with confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“At least one of us finally admitted to it.” You joked. For some reason Hiccup had registered that you were making a joke, but not necessarily what you were joking about.

“Yeah okay, go on, laugh it out- wait.” Hiccup quickly turned back to you. You nodded with a smile, confirming his suspicion as he clearly thought he had misheard you.

“Wait but- for how long?” He asked excitedly, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Oh this is great! I thought you were going to hate me for even saying anything about it, but you’re not! You feel the same-“ He cheered, slightly beginning to ramble as all of his previous anxiety seemed to just melt away.

You smiled as you watched him celebrate before quickly planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

The man froze before you, clearly not expecting even such a small act of affection. You never knew him to be entirely bold, you always saw him as a very awkward man, but you watched as the awkwardness practically jumped out a window for a split second or so as Hiccup grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.

He was the last person you’d expect such a smooth act to come from, and honestly you didn’t mind it. His eyes drifted from yours to your lips in a matter of seconds as if he was silently asking for your approval, to which you nodded.

Before you knew it you were kissing the literal man of your dreams.

It was wonderful.

It was a very soft kiss, the perfect kind to be shared for the first time.

Once you pulled away you looked to hiccup before dramatically gasping.

“What? What is it?” Hiccup asked, panicking that he had done something wrong.

“Does that mean… you were jealous of Eret?” You asked with a joking smile.

“Oh come on- really?” Hiccup said, jokingly pushing you away with a laugh.

Safe to say you never let him live this moment down, and much to his dismay you had excitedly told your friends about it not too long after.

3K notes · View notes

0cta9on · 3 months ago

Text

For The Cameras

Length: +6k words

Genre: Fluff

IVE Gaeul x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, read this post first and then head on over to my ko-fi page!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Somehow, despite this strange man you’ve never met before snaking his hands through your shirt, all you can think about is what you’re going to say to her. Will a simple “hello” suffice? Should you open with an old inside joke? A cliche “long time, no see”? Will she even remember you after all these years?

“Dude,” the strange man mutters, his deadpan eyes staring at you, but not quite looking at you.

“O-oh, sorry. Were you saying something?” you ask nervously.

“I need you to speak into the mic to check if it’s working properly,” he says, pointing at the collar of your shirt.

You peer down and notice a black fuzzy ball sticking out from your collar. If he hadn’t pointed it out to you beforehand, you would have definitely jumped and made yourself look like an even bigger fool than you probably already do. “R-right. Uh, hello? One, two, three, testing?”

He looks back at a man some distance away, fiddling with knobs on a small black box as he listens to your audio through his chunky headphones. A tense moment passes before he flashes a thumbs up in your direction.

“All right, you’re all good,” he utters before walking off without another word, leaving you completely stranded amidst this flurry of chaos. Screaming children running around, the distant rumble of roller coasters, a food stand selling trendy overpriced products every two steps—normal things you would see at an amusement park. What’s not normal is the couple dozen people around you handling all kinds of expensive-looking camera and audio equipment. If you had to bet, the fuzzy little ball clipped to your collar probably costs more than your rent.

You had no idea what you were getting into when you first signed up for that fan event. Winning a chance to film a variety show with a member of IVE seemed too good to be true, but after you found out that you would be filming it with her, entering the event was a no-brainer. By some stroke of luck, you’re now here in the middle of an amusement park, all but abandoned while jolly children’s songs and the incessant beeping of walkie-talkies makes it difficult to hear yourself think.

“Hey you!” A booming voice somehow cuts through all the noise, and you suddenly find yourself face to face with another man you’ve never met before. Unlike everyone else, however, he seems much more relaxed, even happy to be here. Despite his bulging muscles barely contained in his Hawaiian shirt, his steps are lightweight and peppy compared to the scrambling of footsteps of his subordinates, and the wrinkles outlining his wide smile are a testament to his years of experience in… whatever it is that he does.

You let out a sigh of relief as his demeanor puts you at ease in an instant. “Hello, sir,” you greet him.

He forcefully takes your hand into a firm handshake, almost jerking your arm out of its socket. “I’m Mr. Park, I’m the production director of today’s shoot!” he says, his voice loud and boisterous. “You must be our star for today!”

“I-I wouldn’t say that,” you mutter bashfully.

“Nonsense!” he guffaws. “I just wanna give you a quick little rundown of what we’re gonna be filming today. Basically, you’re just gonna go around the amusement park, hang out and talk with the idol, maybe even flirt a bit, y’know, play it up for the cameras.” Mr. Park punctuates his explanation with a hearty chuckle and a friendly elbow to your rib. What a guy.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that—”

Suddenly, he pulls you close, donning a deathly serious expression that sends a chill down your spine. “If you do anything to ruin today’s shoot, I have a six foot hole in the middle of the woods with your name on it, if you catch my drift.”

Before you even have time to process what he said, Mr. Park walks off like nothing happened, his pearly whites gleaming as if he didn’t just threaten to end you moments before. You figured there would be some oddballs in this industry, but you didn’t expect it to be this insane. If things are like this after barely an hour here, you can only imagine what her daily life is like.

“There she is!” You hear Mr. Park’s voice in the distance as a group of burly men all clad in black approaches the set. Judging by their appearance, you can tell that they’re bodyguards, which means the person their protecting is—

“Hello, Mr. Park! It’s nice to see you again!” The two bodyguards at the front part, giving way for Gaeul to walk through and shake hands with Mr. Park. Your breath catches in your throat at the mere sight of her and all the greetings you’ve rehearsed in your head all morning flutter away like butterflies.

You suddenly feel like a little kid again, waiting at her front door so the two of you can go look for frogs or build a castle out of anything you could find in the forest near your houses. Before she was Gaeul, one of the stars of IVE and adored by billions of people around the world, she was simply Gaeul, your best friend that was never afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of adventure. She was the girl that made your world feel a little less lonely.

And yet, despite her being right in front of you for the first time in years, the distance between you has never felt so far.

As Gaeul and Mr. Park approaches you, you inhale a shaky breath, trying your best to calm your nerves.

“...and this gentleman over here,” Mr. Park explains as he gestures towards you, “is the lucky fan who you’ll be spending the day with!”

You catch her eyes, and for a moment, everything around you seems to vanish. You know deep in your gut that it’s her, but she looks so… beautiful. Instead of the oversized hand-me-downs from her brother, she’s wearing clothes that actually fit her properly—a flower top, a pink cardigan, and a frilly black skirt that shows off her legs in a way that baggy cargo shorts never could. Her hair and makeup is perfectly and meticulously done up, you would mistake her for a doll if you walked by her too fast. Every trace of the Gaeul you once knew is gone—except for her eyes and the way they still light up when they meet yours.

“H-hi,” you stutter, extending a trembling hand towards her. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

She pauses, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at your eyes. A smile creeps up on her glossy lips, and then the scent of strawberry shampoo assaults your senses in the most pleasant way possible as she wraps her arms around your neck in a warm embrace.

“It’s nice to see you again, small fry,” she says softly.

In a past life, you would’ve been annoyed by that silly little nickname—it’s not your fault that your growth spurt hit you later than hers did—but hearing it after so long fills you with an immense amount of happiness that you can’t quite describe. She still remembers you.

“Ehem,” Mr. Park clears his throat, reminding you of the involuntary audience witnessing your reunion. With heat racing towards your cheeks, you reluctantly free Gaeul from your arms. “Do, uh, do you two know each other?”

“He was my best friend back in middle school before I became a trainee,” she explains, beaming. ”We were inseparable back then.”

Mr. Park approaches you, his expression growing dark just like it did before. “Kid…” he mumbles, his voice low. Suddenly, he grabs onto your shoulder with a vice-like grip and lifts you off the ground until your legs are dangling helplessly in the air.

“U-uh, Mr. Park? W-what are you—”

“You. Are. A. Godsend!” he exclaims, now back to his cheery self. “This’ll be great for ratings! I can see the headlines now: ‘IVE’s Gaeul reunites with childhood friend after he wins a fan event!’ If I wasn’t happily married to my wife of seven years, I would kiss you right now!” Finally, he drops you back on your feet and hurriedly struts away, yelling at the staff members. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks! Time is money and I don’t wanna lose a single penny!”

Gaeul pats your shoulder, not even trying to stifle a laugh at your bewildered expression. “Are you alright? Mr. Park has a few screws loose, but I promise you he’s nice.”

Her touch immediately puts you at ease as you let out a chuckle of your own. “Well, my dignity is at an all time low, but what’s new?”

If you had to embarrass yourself in front of a member of IVE, at least it’s the one that’s already seen you at your absolute worst. Like no time has passed at all, the two of you slip back into comfortable patterns of banter. There’s so much you want to tell her. Milestones she missed, horrific first dates, and a plethora of other Gaeul-less memories that you know she’ll tease you for.

“I still can’t believe it’s you, small fry,” she says. “You look great.”

“I’m not sure if you can call me that anymore,” you playfully shoot back. Getting your growth spurt before she went off to be an idol would’ve saved you a childhood of torment by her hand, but hey, better late than never.

“Oh whatever, I’ll call you whatever I damn want to.”

With a smirk, she walks off as Mr. Park calls on the two of you to get ready for filming. You always imagined your reunion to be a little more peaceful, maybe on a random chilly evening at a coffee shop, but the specifics don’t matter to you. What matters is that Gaeul is finally here, right in front of you.

You can finally do what you failed to do back in middle school.

______________________________________________________________

You’re wise enough to know that not everything you see on these kinds of shows is real, but you never realized just how scripted it all is. From the activities you do to the things you say, you feel more like a robot following commands than a regular person spending the day at an amusement park. Gaeul takes everything in stride, seemingly used to this kind of environment, but not having the freedom to properly speak to Gaeul leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

“Listen up, you two!” Mr. Park calls out from behind the camera. “You’re gonna look through the gift shop, try some things on, give a few compliments, big reactions y’know, really play it up for the camera and whatnot. Oh, and Gaeul?”

“Yes?” She tilts her head.

“Keep calling him that little nickname, uh ‘teeny fry’ or whatever it is.”

She cracks a little smirk in your direction. “Sure thing, Mr. Park.”

You sigh, masking your dismay with a neutral expression. “Why are we going to the gift shop first? Isn’t this what people do last?” you ask Gaeul.

She responds with a simple shrug. “I’ve learned not to question things and just go with the flow.”

“Huh?” You dramatically gasp in faux shock. “Are you sure you’re the Gaeul I know? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you annoying the substitute teacher with questions about frogs until they stormed out in the middle of class.”

“That’s different!” she exclaims. “Besides, that was so long ago, I’m basically a different person now.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You actually dress like a girl now.”

“Oh my god, don’t even remind me!” Her cheeks turn a cherry red as memories of her tragic middle school fashion choices come back to haunt her. “It’s a miracle that I even got casted in the first place looking like that.”

You let out a laugh. “You look good now though. Seriously.”

“Just good?” Gaeul says, offended. She steps back and gives you a little twirl, showcasing her entire outfit in all its glory. “Last time you saw me, I was wearing my brother’s old cargo shorts, and you’re telling me that I only look good?!”

“I-I didn’t— I mean…” There’s so many things you want to say, words and phrases rehearsed over years of imagining what your reunion would be like. Finally, you have the opportunity to say it out loud to her face. So just say it.

“Y-you look bea—”

“ALRIGHT, PLACES EVERYBODY!!!’ Mr. Park shouts. Before you can finish your thought, Gaeul hurries to her spot where the director told the two of you to start. You shake your head, coming to your senses and following her to your spot. Not great timing, but there will be other chances later.

Once the cameras start rolling, the two of you enter the gift shop, looking around at all the overpriced products the shop has to offer. T-shirts, headbands, hats, mini figurines of the amusement park’s mascot, just about anything a child could want and a parent would dread to buy. Like Mr. Park instructed, you do your best to give off big reactions, but frankly, this place is the least exciting part about going to an amusement park. Gaeul, on the other hand, plays it off like a true professional.

“Wow, look at this place!” she exclaims, her voice an octave higher than her regular speaking voice. “Oh my gosh, everything is so cute!”

“Y-yeah, wow! So cute!” you awkwardly parrot. Thankfully, the cameras are mainly following Gaeul, so your poor attempts at acting go unnoticed by the crew.

Gaeul takes one of the shirts off the hangers and puts it to your chest. “What do you think about this shirt, small fry? I’ll buy it for you if you want!” she says, punctuating her statement with a wink.

You chuckle in an attempt to hide the heat creeping up your face. “I’d rather launch myself into the sun than wear that ugly shirt,” you quip.

“CUT!” Mr. Park barks. “Hey kid, the park is allowing us to film here for a discounted fee, so maybe don’t talk bad about their merchandise.”

“A-ah… Right, sorry…”

Gaeul stifles a chuckle, putting the shirt back on the hanger. “It’s okay, they can just edit that part out,” she says in an attempt to console you. Unlike seconds before, her voice is back down to her usual tone.

“Uh, why are you doing that thing with your voice?” you ask.

“What thing?” She stares at you with a curious expression, one that holds not even a hint of joking.

“Uh… Nevermind.” Like she said, learn not to question things.

“Alright, let’s try this again, without the sass this time,” Mr. Park says, gesturing specifically to you. “Action!”

In an instant, Gaeul springs back into her idol persona, cheerfully skipping through each aisle and pointing out every little thing. “I wish I could buy everything in the store!”

“You probably could with your net worth,” you instinctively joke. Remembering what happened before, your eyes peer carefully towards Mr. Park, who thankfully smirks at your little jest. Relieved, you decide to do what he said before and try some “flirting”.

You grab a frog headband from one of the shelves and hand it to Gaeul. “Why don’t you try this on? I think it would look cute on you.” Something about talking to her this way leaves an odd, warm feeling in your stomach. Not bad, per se, but different.

She takes the headband from you and tries it on. “What do you think, small fry?” she asks, posing more for the cameras than for you. “Am I stealing your heart with this look?

A rush of heat floods your head at her idol fan service. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her do this kind of thing, but there’s a huge difference in seeing it through a screen and seeing it in person, directed right at you. You thought you would cringe or laugh, but you’re not even sure how to react anymore with the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“U-uh, sure, yeah, whatever…” you mutter. You expected a witty comeback from her, poking fun at your barely coherent mumblings, but instead, you feel Gaeul’s arm link with yours as she pulls you towards one of the mirrors hanging on the walls. In all the confusion, she somehow managed to put a dog headband on your head.

“Ah, we look so cute!” she exclaims, her high-pitched voice ringing in your ears.

You stare back at the reflection, forgetting all about the cameras as you take in every single detail. Gaeul linking her arms with yours, smiling at you with that silly little frog headband on. It’s almost as if you’re looking into a portal to an alternate universe where Gaeul never moved away. Where the two of you ended up as a… couple.

That warm feeling fills your stomach at the thought—but this time, it’s mixed with guilt. Gaeul never accomplished her dreams in that universe, and for what? Sure, you get more time with her and grow up alongside her, but she doesn’t become that big star that she always dreamed about being. There’s no point in clinging onto “what if’s”. Life played out like this and now you have to accept it.

“Hey.” Gaeul nudges your side, her voice back down to its usual octave. Her eyes gaze at you with worry. “You alright? Mr. Park yelled ‘cut’ a minute ago.”

You shake your head, ridding yourself of stray thoughts. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Being in front of cameras has got me a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re doing great. Nice job playing it up for the cameras,” she compliments before walking off to the next filming location.

Yeah… Just for the cameras…

______________________________________________________________

The ferris wheel stands high and mighty, casting long shadows on the park grounds. It is the quintessential amusement park ride that everyone loves, including you. Stuck in a small, cramped box high in the sky, with a perfect view of the setting sun, it’s all so… romantic.

Scratch that thought from your mind. You’re not here for any ulterior motives other than filming this show and catching up with an old friend. That’s it. Nothing else.

“So, obviously we can’t fit an entire camera crew in one of those boxes, so we went ahead and fitted it with some cameras and mics to properly capture everything,” Mr. Park explains to you and Gaeul. “Just do what I said—act natural, big reactions—and everything should be smooth sailing from here.” Sounds contradictory, but you’re not about to talk back to a guy that threatened to bury you deep in the woods.

After he finishes explaining, the ride attendant helps you and Gaeul into the ride, and you begin your ascent into the sky. It feels like cruel irony, finally getting the chance to spend alone time with Gaeul, but not actually getting to spend alone time with her.

With a sigh, you muster up the biggest fake smile you can and start to act. “Wow, ferris wheels are so fun, I can’t wait to—”

“You can drop the act now,” Gaeul chuckles.

Your head tilts in curiosity. “What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Park say that—”

“I convinced some of the crew to turn off the cameras this time around,” she explains. “We’ll have to ride again and play up the reactions, but for this time at least, we can just talk.”

You let out a sigh of relief and slump back into your seat. Finally. “Thank God for your influence, I don’t know if I could keep up the acting.” She smiles, mimicking your movements and lazing against the seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s probably one of the things I like least about this job.”

“Man, it must be tiring putting on a mask every single day for the cameras.”

She shrugs. “It could be worse. At least I get to do this with you, small fry.” Gaeul flashes a bright smile at you, and unlike the smile she dons while the cameras are rolling, you can feel the genuine warmth travel from across the booth. “So, have you been after all this time? I’m sure you have a bunch of stories from the years we’ve been apart.”

“So many,” you reply. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about high school? I never got to properly experience it for myself, y’know.”

“Right, wow, okay.” You sit up, barely able to contain your excitement at the chance to properly talk about things with her. “So, freshman year, I—”

“Is that the first one?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one,” you answer, chuckling at her curious expression. “So, freshman year, it’s a new school, whole bunch of new people, and obviously you weren’t around anymore, so I decided to join a school club.”

“Wow, really? You were basically attached to my hip all throughout middle school, I never thought you’d actually go out of your way to join a club,” she teases. “What club was it?”

“It was, uh…” You clear your throat, suddenly feeling very embarrassed under her gaze. “...the esports club.” You brace yourself for the incoming barrage of mockery and laughter, but instead, you’re met with Gaeul’s eyes brightening with awe.

“That makes so much sense, you always were good at video games!” she compliments. “How was it, were you any good?”

With your ego now inflated, you smirk and cross your arms. “Not to brag, but I did carry my team to 2nd place of the state championships,” you boast.

“Hey, that’s amazing!”

You can hear it in her voice, plain as day, that there’s not a hint of sarcasm or malice behind her words—she’s genuinely impressed by your silly little esports accolades. Being part of that club did little to boost your popularity and only served to make you the target of some bullying, but it was also some of your most cherished memories from high school. When you felt lost navigating that new environment without Gaeul, that club was the only thing keeping you together.

“Oh, I have to ask—what were school dances like?” Gaeul inquires, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh as you think about all the bad experiences at each school dance. If the esports club was the highest high of your high school days, then school dances were your lowest lows.

“They were… not great. For me, at least. I was probably an outlier for that kind of thing,” you mutter, sinking back into your seat as the weight of those awful experiences pulls you down.

“Oh… sorry,” Gaeul says, your gaze drifting to the side. “Why, did you have a bad date or something?”

“I had no date, Gaeul. I was in the esports club,” you clarify. “Besides, I never bothered trying to ask out a girl during high school anyways.”

“Why not? You’re a nice guy, I’m sure any girl would’ve been lucky to go out with you!” she exclaims.

You chuckle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to ask to a school dance.”

“Really? Not a single person you had a crush on?” She leans into you with curiosity, not realizing the proximity of your faces. You can see every single detail of the visage that you grew up with, analyzing how much has changed and yet still stayed the same. Those big, round eyes that light up when you mention frogs or crack a clever joke. The puff of her cheeks every time she tries—and fails—to hold in a laugh. The curve of her pretty lips whenever she calls you “small fry”. Remnants of your childhood together, still visible on the face you haven’t stopped thinking about ever since she left.

You lean back in your seat, the lack of space becoming too overwhelming. “I-I, um…”

“Aha! You did have a crush on someone!” she shouts excitedly. “Who was it? You better tell me their name, or else!”

“U-uh, h-her name? Um… Uh… A-autumn,” you sputter out nervously, too frazzled to think straight. Great job, you idiot. ‘Autumn”? Now she’s gonna know that you have a crush on—

“What a pretty name! Was she cute?”

“Huh?” Dumbfounded, you decide to take it and roll with it. “Uh, I mean, yeah, she was cute.”

“What was she like?”

“She was…” You pause, collecting your thoughts. The ferris wheel nears its peak as rays of sunset peek through the window, lighting up your carriage with an evening glow. “She was unimaginably amazing. She was strong and confident and determined and never let anyone’s words affect her. Whatever she wanted to accomplish, she could do it and make it look easy. She was also incredibly kind and hilarious and curious about the world around her, always asking questions with this admirable crave for more knowledge. And she was…”

At last, your carriage is lifted to the highest point of the ferris wheel. Like a spotlight, the setting sun projects the last of its light onto Gaeul’s face, illuminating her like the star that she was born to be. Mother nature paints her with the most beautiful shades of golden brown, casting an aura that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“...she’s beautiful.”

“Wow,” Gaeul breathes. The light from the sunset fades as it falls behind the horizon, yet Gaeul continues to glow with an aura that only you can see. “You must have really liked her, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I did…” you utter softly. “...but it was never gonna work out. She had big things planned, and I was always too nervous to ask her out anyways, so… it’s whatever.”

“That sucks.” She leans her head against the window and takes a deep breath. The excitement she held in her expression earlier disappears, revealing something more real, more vulnerable. “I’m actually kinda jealous of you, y’know.”

“Really? Why?”

She sighs. “I never got to experience any of that for myself—clubs, dances, crushes… all of it. Once I became a trainee, every single day was dedicated to training, with barely any time for fun or enjoyment or a social life. Some days, we’d barely even have time to eat or sleep.”

You always saw Gaeul as this bright ball of energy, even when she was on your screen as IVE’s Gaeul. To see her like this is something else entirely.

“When things were the hardest, I’d think about you,” she says, a melancholic grin growing on her lips. “I’d think about all the fun adventures we had and imagine all the new adventures we could’ve had. I wondered what you were doing, if you were even thinking about me…”

Every single day.

“I’d pray that when I wake up the next morning, I would be back in my old bedroom and you would be waiting outside my door like you always did, and then we’d run off to the forest and do whatever we wanted. No expectations, no late nights, just pure freedom.”

The urge to comfort her makes your heart ache. You want to hold her in your arms and tell her what you really feel. Tell her that the day she left was the day that your entire world came crashing down. Tell her to take your hand and run away with you, live the life that you’ve been dreaming of since you were kids. Tell her how much she means to you and that you never want to be away from her again.

But you don’t. You bite your tongue, suppressing all the feelings threatening to bubble up. She worked hard to get where she is, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the dream she’s been talking about since the two of you were kids. You’re not going to ruin that for her just for your own selfish reasons.

“On the bright side, look where you are now!” you say in an attempt to cheer her up. “World famous Kpop star, loved by billions all over the world. A-and I turned out okay too, so, y’know… Everything is good.” Despite your attempt to sound cheerful, the weight of your true feelings seeps into your words. The carriage fills with a heavy tension that hangs in the air.

“Yeah,” she mutters, her gaze falling to the darkening scenery outside. “Everything is just… great.”

______________________________________________________________

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LAST SCENE OF THE DAY! AFTER THE TEST RUN, WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE, SO LET’S MAKE IT COUNT!” Mr. Park yells, his voice the epicenter of all the commotion.

After a couple more hours of rides and other attractions, it was time to finish filming the final part of the episode, the fireworks show. For the most part, the last couple hours of filming went smoothly, aside from the fact that Gaeul wouldn’t talk to you when the cameras weren’t rolling. The shift from her idol persona back to her regular self was eerie enough already, but seeing all that faux joy disappear the second Mr. Park yelled “cut” filled you with an all-new kind of dread. Is this it? Are you just going to finish filming and leave things like this, without knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to see her again?

You spot her in the distance, getting her makeup touched up by her makeup artist. The sea of frantic staff members never seems to end, but you push through anyway, determined to patch things up before the night ends.

“Gaeul!” you call out to her. “Can we ta—”

Her brick wall of a bodyguard stops you in your tracks with a firm grip on your shoulder.

“Ms. Gaeul would like to be left alone.”

“I just need to—Ah!” His grip tightens on your shoulder until you feel like it’s about to be ripped from its socket.

“I said, she wants to be left alone.”

You huff in frustration. “Look man, my best friend in the whole entire world is upset with me right now and I need to fix this, so would you please cut me some slack and let me talk to her for five fucking minutes!?” Despite the pain in your shoulder becoming borderline unbearable, you muster up the most threatening look you can. Thankfully, his grip on you loosens and your arm somehow doesn’t pop off from your body. Did he actually get scared by the look you gave him?

“It’s okay, Mr. Kim,” Gaeul says, walking out from behind him. Go figure. “I got it.”

Her bodyguard backs off, giving the two of you some space to talk. “Thanks, I was worried Mr. Park would have to CGI me a new arm,” you joke, trying to ease the tension. Gaeul’s lips curl slightly into a grin as she shakes her head at your dumb joke. It’s not much, but it’s progress. “Can we talk—”

“Follow me.” She walks off without another word, away from the filming location. Not wanting to get on her bad side again, you follow her in silence.

Gaeul leads you through the bustling crowds, down a narrow, unlit pathway tucked between two food stalls. The sounds of the park grow fainter with each step until all you can hear is your own breathing and the echo of your footsteps. As long as you’re able to clear the air with her, it doesn’t matter where she takes you. You’d gladly walk all the way to the ends of the Earth if it means you won’t part on bad terms.

Finally, Gaeul stops at a small, secluded lookout point. A sturdy railing, its paint chipped from years of wear and tear, stretches across the edge of the platform, offering a view of the whole amusement park below.

“Back when we were trainees, the company let us visit this exact amusement park as a reward for doing well on a monthly evaluation,” Gaeul explains, leaning against the railing. “We ended up finding this quiet little area. It gives the best view of the fireworks show.”

You take your spot next to her and look out at the park below. Multicolored lights dance freely in the night sky to the unpredictable tune of the park goers’ joyous screams. You can’t help but grin at the thought of a younger Gaeul being able to relive a piece of her childhood that she missed out on.

“It must have been a lot of fun,” you say.

“I wouldn’t really know.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

A pensive escapes her lips into the open air. “I mean, it was fun, but… I just couldn’t stop looking for your face in every person we passed by.”

“Oh.”

“While the others were watching the fireworks, I was looking down at the crowd, hoping that I could see you again.”

“I-I, uh… I’m sorry, Gaeul—”

She lets out a hollow snicker, the sound barely carrying any amusement—just exhaustion. “What do you have to be sorry for? I should be the one apologizing. Back in the ferris wheel, when you said that ‘everything is good’, I just… I don’t know, I just broke down. Hearing you say that made me feel like you… forgot about me.”

“Hey,” you utter gently, placing your hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; you’re my best friend, Gaeul. I would never forget about you. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”

She turns to you, a cute pout on her lips and her eyes glistening with tears. “Really?”

“Of course, dummy,” you chuckle. “And it’s kinda hard to forget you when I see you literally everywhere.”

Gaeul rests her head on your shoulder, her chest rising and falling with gentle laughter. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and ignoring you all day, small fry.”

Tentatively, you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I was able to talk to you before the day ended.” You feel her snuggle into your side, the warmth from her body a thousand times better than you could ever imagine it. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, screaming at you to say something.

You gulp in an attempt to quell your nerves. “A-actually, I’ve also, uh, been an idiot today. There’s something I need to tell you that I should’ve told you earlier.”

She shifts to look up at you, her eyes beaming like stars in the night sky. “What is it?”

“I-I, um… Gaeul, I—”

A ball of fire shoots upwards into the sky and bursts into a sparkling flurry of bright red. More follow soon after, whizzing past and painting the indigo sky with an array of colors. Gaeul excitedly climbs up the railing to get a better view, her expression filling up with a joy more genuine than any reaction she showed in front of the cameras.

Your heart aches as you look up at her—you love her. You love her so much that you want to scream it from the top of your lungs until your voice grows hoarse. Today could be the last time you ever see her. You need to tell her. Forget about all the consequences and just say it.

Gaeul turns to look down at you, a smirk playing on her lips. “This angle seems a bit familiar, don’t you think?” she teases, ruffling your hair. The chilly night air enters your lungs. Every color of the rainbow reflects against her perfect skin. All caution is thrown to the wind.

You push yourself onto your tippy toes and press your lips against hers.

The kiss couldn’t have been more than a second, just a mere peck, but the feeling still lingers on your lips like electricity. A long moment passes with nothing but the crackling of fireworks filling the space between you. The overwhelming heat against your cheeks makes it nearly impossible to make out her reaction. Is she disgusted? Upset? Angry?

Yet, all of your worries melt away as Gaeul falls into your arms, capturing your lips in hers once again. Years of pining and waiting, watching her fancams until the ungodly hours of the night, showing support for her in any way you can without ever knowing if she’ll notice your efforts, all of it culminates into that sweet, tender kiss. Tomorrow brings a plethora of unknown challenges, but all that matters is right now, in each other’s arms where you’ve been dying to be.

You break the kiss for a moment, a truth you’ve been waiting to release resting on your tongue. “Gaeul, I love you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, her voice light and airy. “I love you too, small fry. So, so, so much.”

Your lips break into a smile so wide your cheeks start to ache. “Not that I’m complaining, but how did you know—”

“Autumn? Really?” she teases, her hands cupping your cheek. “You might as well have confessed to me in that ferris wheel.”

You sink your face into her touch, treasuring every second of warmth. “I wish I did. Maybe then we would’ve had more time to be like this before we have to say goodbye.”

“I’m never, ever leaving your side again, you hear me? The company will just have to deal with it.”

You let yourself get lost in her lips once again, with no intention of ever finding your way back. The road ahead will no doubt be filled with hardships and uncertainties, but there’s no one else you would rather start this adventure with than the girl that made your world a little less lonely.

#ive #kim gaeul #ive gaeul #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #ive x male reader #ive x male oc #ive gaeul x male reader #ive gaeul x male oc #fluff #gaeul fluff #ive gaeul fluff

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grudgecollector · 2 months ago

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Georgia Heat | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl decides to take you on a little run in order to escape the summer heat. It leads to something unexpected, but welcome.

Tags: Swearing, fluff, twd typical violence, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread

Words: 4.1

A/N: Dude when I say I hate Georgia heat with a passion I mean it. This state tries to kill me every summer.

The ending is a little rushed but that's okay

Made a small playlist for this <3

The heat pressed down on you like a thick blanket, a brief miracle of wind gracing against your skin. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, and all you could think about was how you should have appreciated the beautiful invention of air conditioning more.

Summers in Georgia were always a dreadful experience, even before the outbreak. The humidity almost makes the air feel as if it was boiling around you, the sun stinging against your skin every time the tree above you shifted, the shade being cruelly stripped away for just a moment.

Even as a child you hated summer, solely because of the heat. Temperatures like this made it almost impossible to move, even breathing was a struggle as the scalding heat invaded your mouth.

The palms of your hands were slick with sweat, but your mouth remained dry. The lack of fresh water was making your brain go fuzzy. You knew that at any moment, if you stood just a little too quickly, blackened dots would scatter across your vision, and inevitably you would pass out.

You were grateful that it would at least happen within shouting distance of Daryl and the rest of the group. Instead of happening in the middle of the woods, reducing you to unconscious bait for the undead.

"Ya'look like you're dyin'." Daryl commented, walking over to you with his crossbow securely slung over his shoulder.

A small huff left you as you attempted to fan your face, "Feels like it. This heat is fucking ridiculous."

You craved any form of shelter, but you already knew that the inside of some stuffy house would be no better. A home without air conditioning, in weather like this, is like being trapped inside of a pre-heating oven.

"And here I thought we had a true southern woman on our hands." The rough edged man jokes, crouching down in front of you with a small smile on his lips.

"Oh please, I've lived here my entire life. I just ain’t built for heat like this.”

You hated sweating this much, it made you feel dirtier than you already were. The grime coating your skin mixing with the salty perspiration. You started to crave that harsh winter chill you felt months ago, at least you’d be able to wear more layers.

"You wanna head out for a bit? I gotta get something for the camp." He asked, averting his eyes to look over his shoulder towards Lori and Rick.

They were engaged in a conversation of their own, Carol coming out from her tent, and Glenn who sat next to Hershal. The rest of the group was scattered around the makeshift camp, their hopes of finding some safe place to settle dwindling by the day.

“What’cha got in mind?” You asked him curiously.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out.” With that he stood back up, walking over to Rick and exchanging a few words and nods. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying, Rick glanced over at you with a small smile and tilted his head to the side before shrugging.

“Couldn’t hurt.” Was all you could make out of their conversation.

Daryl walked back over to you and extended a helping hand. He tugged you away from the tree you had planted yourself against. His skin was just as hot as yours, and the contact brought an uncomfortably hot flush to your cheeks.

The relationship you and Daryl had was far from romantic. It was more of mutual respect, he had saved your life a fair share of times, which you had returned gratefully. There was not a moment you didn’t feel safe when he was around, his watchful eyes always finding their way to you.

Merle used to always tease his younger brother about going soft. At first, it had driven a small wedge between both Daryl and you. You originally thought you were being held at a distance so Daryl could avoid his brother’s cruel comments, often referring to him as a whipped pussy. In reality it was to keep Merle away from you, not wanting him to scare you off.

Before the outbreak things were much simpler with Daryl. Granted, you barely knew him. To you he was just a customer that occasionally came into the hunting supply store your father worked at. You remembered thinking he was attractive.

You had often avoided looking directly at him from where you sat behind the counter, eavesdropping in on the conversation he was having with your dad.

There was a nervous shyness inside you, reminding you of a teenager with a crush. At the time you remembered thinking it was pathetic acting like this. But reflecting back, you couldn’t help but think of that innocent feeling fondly. Where at a time, the only thing you had to worry about was a stupid crush on a stranger.

After everyone started to flee, you found yourself moving more south. In hopes to escape the plague of death raking over your town. You drove until your dad’s truck was running purly off of fumes, a sputtering sound filling your ears occasionally.

An old broken down house caught your eyes, it was just a little ways from the road. It had been abandoned since you were a young teenager, slowly rotting away and being consumed by vines.

The wheels on your dad’s old pickup groaned as you slowed to a stop. You put the vehicle in park before removing the keys, tucking them into your back pocket once you stepped out from the front seat. You reached for the gun sitting in the passenger seat, wanting to have some form of protection from these creatures.

The second your fingers brushed against the handle, you felt a sharp prod against your spine.

“You lost, little girl?” A gruff voice said from behind you, your heart seized in your chest, fear gripping tightly onto your throat. “Come on outta that truck why don’t’cha. Come on, let’s go.” The man urged, not giving you much of an option as his hand roughly tugged your bicep.

Your back hit against the door of the pickup, eyes meeting some very familiar ones. It was one of the Dixon brothers, you remembered seeing him accompany Daryl plenty of times. Listening to their quiet bickering that would echo through the small store.

“Well, what do we have here…” Merle smiled, his knife continuing to press against your skin. “You’re a long ways away from home aren’t’cha, girl?”

“I could say the same about you.”

Over the next few hours you attempted to plead your case. Hoping- no, praying- they would at least be nice enough to take you along with them for the time being. Especially because they were the only familiar faces you have seen, making you feel somewhat at ease.

Merle fought hard against it. But Daryl vouched for you, knowing that you would die if they left.

“Oh come on, brother!” Merle groaned, rolling his eyes as he gestured towards you, “She’s gonna drag us down Daryl.”

“I ain’t gonna drag anyone down, I know how to hold my own Dixon.” You defended yourself. “I’ve been huntin’ with my dad since I was little. I’m a good shot, please… Just- I don’t want to be left alone.”

“Where’s your daddy then, huh girl? Shouldn't you be with 'em?” Merle asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Your eyes hardened a little, glaring at the man in front of you, “Where do you think?” You spat out.

The flashes of him dying worked through your mind, tormenting you. You remembered hearing his sickening screams as your older sister tore into him. Leaving you little to no time to react. Her rasping growls, those milky white eyes...

You ran from the house without turning back, all you had was an empty backpack, the keys to your dad’s truck, and a hunting knife that was gifted to you on your birthday several years ago.

In the beginning you weren’t sure why Daryl was so inclined to help you, to be by your side, you weren’t anything special. Just a twenty something year old trying to survive.

At first you assumed his protection was out of pity for you losing your family. Or maybe it was so he could score a night alone in your tent.

That line of thinking was turned over after a conversation the two of you had inside the C.D.C. It was after a few drinks, the two of you were left leaning against each other in the reading room. The two of you talked for hours about everything, your life before the outbreak, your families, your dreams, everything you expected life to be. He was vulnerable with you, more than you ever expected him to be.

That night you realized there was something much more to how he treated you. Something more caring, cracking itself out of Daryl’s rigid exterior. You had come to realize he saw a little bit of himself in you. Alone, lost, and scared. Much like he had been so many times in his life as a young boy.

And after all this time, you still stuck by his side. There was trust, an understanding between the two of you.

“C’mon, it’s still early, we got plenty a’time.” He walked a few feet in front of you towards one of the trucks.

“Be safe!” Carol called out to the two of you, giving you a small wave.

The leather seat in the truck was unbearably hot beneath your thighs, stinging against your skin. You resisted the urge to hiss at the feeling, knowing that if you adjusted your legs enough eventually the heat would dissipate.

“You know I hate surprises.” You commented, looking over at Daryl who kept his eyes trained on the road.

His eyes met yours for a brief moment, “Well, you’re just gonna have to get used to all that.” He replied, “Surprises around every corner these days.”

The drive fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the hum of the engine.

You couldn’t argue, it was just a fact. You had to worry about your throat being ripped out in your sleep. A hoard could sneak up at any minute, a sudden sickness could sweep through the camp, anything could happen in this new world.

“Here it is.” Daryl sighed out.

The lake in front of you glistened under the sun, the smallest push and pull of waves against the clay shore. You could hear the distant call of geese, their bodies briefly diving under the surface to try and catch something.

“Where’d you find this place?” You asked him, opening the passenger door and stepping out.

“Found it while huntin’. Thought we could try an’ get some water for camp.” Daryl replied while removing the keys, the door creaked as he opened it. “There’s some jugs in the back, go ahead and grab two of ‘em. I’m gonna scout the area real quick.”

“Sounds good.”

You grabbed the jugs and made your way towards the body of water, cautiously keeping an eye on your surroundings. Daryl wasn’t far from you, keeping his crossbow pointed towards the woods and listening for any movement.

The water brushed gently against your shoes, your socks getting wet on the inside. Any other time you would complain, but the feeling brought so much relief that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

You unscrewed the cap of the jug, tucking it into your pocket before dipping the container into the water. It filled up quickly, the water brown from the dirt and murky. You would have to boil it out a few times before it would be safe enough to consume.

“Think we’re good for now.” Daryl said from behind you, now holding a jug of his own.

“Good, means we can enjoy this for a few minutes.” You used your empty hand to splash at Daryl.

He didn’t flinch away from the water, “Ain’t got time for playin’.” He shook his head a little as he unscrewed the top of the jug.

You lifted your filled container out of the water and brought it over towards the shore, putting the top back on. You grabbed the second one, and filled it the same. The silence was peaceful, the buzzing of bugs flying past you and the birds calling from the tree branches, maybe serene was the word you were looking for.

“Alright, I’m done with mi-” You were cut off by a sudden splash of water hitting your face. “Okay… I see how it is.” You rubbed water away from your eyes before being splashed again.

“I figured you still wanted to cool off.” Daryl smirked. He was going to splash you again but your hand stopped him, tugging him deeper into the lake where you stood.

You halfheartedly wrestled against him, trying to push him down. But he was strong, forcing you to dig your feet into the muddy ground as he pushed against you, a wide smile on his beautiful face.

“I ain’t goin’ down without a fight, sweetheart.” He teased, his face getting closer to yours, making your stomach flip.

You took that as a challenge, finding whatever strength you could muster to try and bring him down. You grabbed onto his flannel shirt roughly, balling it into your fists as your leg came up to hook around the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. His knee buckled but he was quick to recover, stepping forward and shoving your shoulders roughly sending you backwards.

The water splashed around you, giggles flying from your mouth as you tried to get the droplets to stop assaulting your eyes.

Daryl smiled sweetly, holding out a hand to help you up from your sitting position in the lake, your shoulders barely peeking from the surface.

You grasped onto it with a slight smirk, your other hand shooting up and grabbing him by the neck of his shirt again. You roughly tugged him down, hearing him let out a quiet gasp before he came down on top of you face first. You were both submerged for only a second before he recovered.

He was quick to sit back on his knees, giving you a halfhearted glare.

“Aww, you look at an angry little cat.” You teased, ruffling his soaked hair.

Daryl softly slapped your hand away, huffing out a laugh of his own, “You play dirty.”

“I gotta do that against you.”

“That ain’t true.” The man shook his head, smirking a little.

“Is too!” You laugh.

You went to splash him again, but Daryl’s rough hand caught your wrist. He leaned forward a little.

“Stop.” The sudden whispered tone in his voice made your heart still in your chest.

Daryl’s head turned towards the sound of snapping branches coming from the woods. He stood up from the water, fingers going to grasp around the knife attached to his belt. The water dripping from his clothes sounded a lot louder when you were trying to be quiet. Slowly, you stood up behind him and looked at the treeline.

A walker stepped out from behind a fallen tree, tripping over a vine before continuing its path towards the two of you, one of its arms missing, its body boney and distorted. Growling and snapping its blackened teeth in anticipation. Another one stepped out from behind a bush with its head bowed, its clothes ripped to shreds, giving way for the intestines that dangled from its stomach.

“I got the first one, you get the second one. Sound good?” Daryl asked you urgently, pulling his knife from his belt.

You grasped onto the hunting knife sheathed on your thigh, watching as Daryl waded carefully towards the shore. His hand grasped the walker’s shoulder before he plunged his knife into its skull.

The second one made a bee-line towards you once you stepped closer. Its head rose with a rasping growl, fresh blood dripping from the corners of its mouth. The milky white eyes met yours, making your steps falter slightly as you scanned over the walker’s features.

No…

He grabbed for you, bloody fingers finding its way to the soaked fabric of your shirt and grabbing onto it roughly. Its blunt nails scraped across your skin through the shirt, making your stomach drop a little at the close proximity. The smell of its rotten breath, meat hanging from its teeth. Its jaw popped loudly with every snap of its teeth, that same sound you would remember hearing whenever your dad ate at the dinner table.

He had always said it was from getting his jaw broken when he was a teenager. Telling you the story more times than you could count.

Before it could even think to bite you, your knife plunged deep into its eye socket. The walker’s blood sprayed onto you when you ripped your knife out, stabbing it again for good measure.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you watched him fall to the ground with a lifeless thud.

You couldn’t lie and say you were surprised. The camp was closer to your home than you’ve been in almost a year, and the thought had been in the back of your mind ever since you saw the sign of your town. A thought that eventually you would see him again.

“We should get outta here, don’t know how many friends they might have.” You said after clearing your throat, walking closer to Daryl and grabbing the two jugs you filled.

Once back inside the truck Daryl looked at you before turning towards the backseat, digging through the floorboards. He had a rag in his hand, using it to gently wipe the blood off of your face, he held your chin with his hand, turning your face to the side.

Your stomach twisted at his delicate touch. Fingers twitching as he starts to clean your hands.

“Thank you.”

“Scared me there for a second. That walker grabbing a’hold of you like that.” Daryl confessed, the rag stilling against the palm of your hand.

A small huff left your parted lips, “Yeah…” A small sniffle left you as you attempted to smile. “I just… God, that was so fucked up.” You couldn’t hold back anymore, the tears streaming down your cheeks faster than you could stop them.

Daryl was quick to bring you into his hold, arms wrapping around you as you cried into his shoulder.

Out of everyone in your family, your dad was the one you were the closest with. He had raised both you and your older sister all by himself, nothing but love to show for the both of you. He was protective in his own way. But also respected you enough to not treat you like a delicate princess who couldn’t do anything on her own. He taught you how to handle yourself, how to protect yourself from animals and people alike.

You even remembered how he had teased you when it came to Daryl, “You want me to slip him your number?” He had said one day, eyeing the two brothers standing in the trapping section.

“Dad! No!” You could feel your face heating up, trying to distract yourself by wiping down the glass display case.

He let out a laugh at your embarrassment, “Oh look at’cha, my little girl’s got a crush.” He pinched your cheek, which further irritated you.

“Shut up, old man.” You groaned, glaring at him as he continued to laugh.

Finally you leaned back from Daryl, using the same rag to clean off your hunting knife. Your heart hammered against your chest, your hands were still shaking. The knife was heavy in your hands, resting softly against your thigh. Your thumb brushed softly against the initials engraved on the blade..

“You gonna be okay?” Daryl asked after a minute of silence, cranking the truck and backing out of the clearing and back onto the road. “I know stuff like that ain’t easy.”

“I’ll be alright.” Your response was soft, “You know he really liked you, my dad.”

The man beside you hummed softly, “I know…” He chuckled quietly before continuing, “He uh- he actually was tryin’ to get me to ask you out on a date.”

Your eyes widened at that. That same feeling of embarrassment you used to always feel flooding your system. You couldn’t say you were surprised, your dad had always been somewhat of a matchmaker, having helped your older sister find her husband when she was around your age.

“Oh my god.” You said, covering your face with your hands before laughing, “Yeah that sounds like him. I’m sorry about that, he didn’ exactly have much of a filter.”

“Nah, nothin’ to be sorry about.” Daryl looked at you for a second, clearing his throat, “I was actually gonna do it, but I pussied out. Figured you’d find someone better, than some beat up ol’ hillbilly.”

The air had felt like it was sucked from your lungs after hearing that. Daryl Dixon had thought about asking you out? Your stomach fluttered at the idea.

“Were you really?” You asked cautiously.

The truck slowed to a stop just a little outside of the camp, Daryl looked at you with a small smile. You couldn’t help but admire how attractive he looked, his hair starting to grow out a little more, the sun shining down on his face.

“Would you’ave said yes?”

Knowing what you knew now, you didn’t have to be scared to confess. Your lips quirked up into a smile, turning yourself to face him better. Your face still felt hot, fingers picking at the strings on your pants as you looked at him.

“Daryl, I’m gonna be so honest with you right now.” You started, “I had the biggest crush on you from the second I saw you in my dad’s shop.”

“You’re kiddin’.” He let out a small laugh, a smile blooming on his face.

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your lip before saying, “I was terrified of rejection, so I just didn’t say anythin’. Pussied out, as you put it.”

Daryl chuckled at that, ducking his head briefly before glancing back up at you. His hand found its way to yours, grabbing it gently and shaking his head in disbelief. You almost felt foolish for not saying it sooner, wondering what it would have been like to be with him before everything fell.

“Well, you ain’t got nothing to be terrified of now, sweetheart.” His thumb stroked softly against your palm, “Walker’s, sure, but not me.” His voice was sweet, calm and comforting just like it always was when he spoke to you.

Your other hand came up to his cheek, brushing against the scruff as you cupped his jaw, “You think I still gotta chance?” Your voice was almost a whisper.

“You’ve always had one.” He replied carefully, leaning into your touch and meeting you halfway.

His lips were soft against yours, albeit a little chapped, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. After a year of pining you finally had him, his hand coming to gently hold your waist and bring you closer. His lips moved against yours gracefully, his other hand cupping your jaw and guiding you into a deeper kiss. He had needed this just as much as you did.

“We should probably get back to the camp…” You whispered once you parted, your nose still brushing against his.

“We should.” Daryl’s fingers softly traced your cheek, blue eyes full of emotions, “Gotta get you in some dry clothes. Don’t want you catchin’ a cold or somethin’.”

He took the truck out of park and drove the rest of the way into the camp, his free hand holding yours now. Rick waved at the two of you once you started to slow, walking towards the truck and helping take the full jugs out of the truck bed.

“Run into any trouble?” Rick asked once you got out of the truck.

“Just two walkers, other than that it was clear.” You replied.

You didn’t miss the way he looked at both of you and Daryl, still soaked from wrestling in the lake. A small smirk graced the man’s lips before he nodded, turning back towards the camp and meeting his wife halfway, handing her one of the jugs.

“So you plannin’ on movin’ into my tent?” Daryl half jokes, bumping his shoulder against yours, the jug he was holding sloshing around quietly.

“Not sure, you think you can handle a roommate?” You tease.

“I think I can manage.”

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon reader insert #daryl dixon twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd reader insert #twd fanfiction #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead reader insert #violet writes

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lotties-ashwagandha · 1 month ago

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FORGIVE AND FORGET

(adult) lottie matthews x reader

before lotties wellness center was shut down, you were the head meditation instructor there. now, after everything that has happened, you seek her out and reconnect. suggestive at the end (nsfw?), enough so that i’ll say mdni. 1.2k words.

“Lisa called me after you gave her the money.”

“Have you come for money?” Lottie asks. She carries a slight tension as she studies you — it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone who didn’t know her well, but you have been around her consistently enough in the past to be able to pick up on her tells. She stands as if she’s bracing for something.

“No.”

The tension dissipates. She takes in a breath, slowly, mindfully, in the way you taught her once. Like instead of being in her family’s penthouse she is still in one of her cabins in the woods. “Why have you come, then?”

You can’t immediately respond. You thought it would be obvious. “I came to check on you. I wanted to make sure you were alright. I didn’t even know you were…”

“They had no way to keep me,” she says. There’s pride in her tone, she seems to stand a little taller, even with the weight her presence now bears. Lottie has changed dramatically in such a short time — the circumstances around you have changed even more.

“You should have called me. I could have picked you up, you could have stayed a night if you needed.”

“I didn’t think you would be eager to hear from me,” Lottie says in a tone close to sarcastic, yet still too dry, too guilty.

“Of course I was,” you take a step forward. “I had no idea what happened to you after that night. I didn’t know if you would ever be let out. I didn’t know if the police would look into me next for what happened there.”

“You? Why would they be interested in you?”

“We worked so closely together,” you say, standing just inside from her doorway, feeling like a stranger. She averts her eyes. “The scheduling of classes, events at the wellness center, you planned all of it with me. My home was taken with yours.”

Lottie pulls her coat tighter around herself like a sudden chill has blown over her — a fur coat that feels too extravagant for a conversation about grief. She looks like she’s about to apologize, and then she holds back, like the words have died in her throat and she has realized that nothing she could ever say would be enough. She clears her throat and again meets your eyes, and when she speaks it is to shift the topic. “How have you been holding up? Do you have a place to stay?”

“I have a place now. I stayed with a friend before that,” you tell her. “I’ve been trying to explain why all of my clothes are heliotrope and how I ended up in a cult. It’s not going over very well.”

“I can imagine,” she smiles softly. She shakes her head, avoidant, looking for something else to say. After a second of considering you, she comes to a decision. “Come on. Sit down, have tea with me.”

You follow her further into the penthouse, coming into a lavish sitting area. She gestures for you to sit down on the sofa, and she disappears into the kitchen for a bit before coming back with two mugs of tea. She hands one to you before sitting down next to you on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and looking over you.

You take a sip of your tea before setting your mug down on the coffee table in front of you. By a coaster a tarot deck has been set, cards you recognize. “Are you still doing readings?”

Lottie nods, looking down at the cards. “Every night if I can find the time.”

You’re afraid to ask, but you do anyway, tentatively. “Do you still believe?”

She looks up at you. Something softens in her eyes, newfound gentleness occupying her expression. Part of you expects her to say no, that she was unwell, any other excuse that would be proper and appropriate and healed in the view of anyone else. But then she nods once more. She takes off her coat and lays it over the armrest and you can see the bullet wound scarring on her bicep. “It is something no one can take from me.”

A soft silence falls between you. It is reassuring, there is warmth in it.

“Do you believe?” Lottie asks. Her dark eyes bore into you, though not unkindly. She is checking on you in the same way you’ve been checking on her.

It is her you believe in. So when she looks at you expectantly for an answer, “Yes.”

Lottie smiles. “You know, it always trusted you. I could feel it — that’s why you were there that night, it wanted you to be.”

Lottie glances at you with such adoration in her eyes that you could never disagree with her. Her love for you is a holy thing, one you were not aware ran so deeply, but you see it now — and it is reflected in your own want.

She sets her cup down next to yours, and then leaning forward toward you slightly she rests her hand on your thigh, tracing up and down soothingly with her thumb. “You have no idea how dearly I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you say in nearly a whisper. Her hair hangs in her face — you tuck some of it back behind her ear, but your touch lingers, and so does hers on your thigh. And perhaps you will ruin everything — you will kiss her and she will throw you out and it really will be the last time you’ll see her — but you are willing to take the chance when you meet her eyes and see the tenderness reflected in them.

You move slowly toward her, timidly, but she grabs the back of your neck and pulls you to her forcefully, lips crashing into yours in desperate fervor.

It is a blessing that no one else is in the penthouse, because there is no innocence in the way she pulls you into her lap, nor in the way she grabs at your chest. Her hands on you reveal a hunger that has lasted years, ever since the first time you laid eyes on each other.

The suffering that has taken you here is immeasurable. But with the way she kisses you so deeply, the insatiable desire burning in you when she pulls off your shirt, the longing in her eyes when she looks over the newly exposed skin — all misdeeds are forgotten and forgiven.

Lottie’s hands plant at your hips and she meets your gaze heavily, desire at war with guilt. Unprompted, she whispers, “I have so much to apologize for.”

You climb off her lap and push her to lay down. You straddle her and lean down to kiss her again, swallowing up the beginning of her apology. You pepper kisses across her jaw, along her collarbones. You are gentle, careful not to leave any marks, reverent in every motion and kiss.

You kiss along one of her shoulders and down until you reach the new scar from the bullet wound on her bicep. You meet her eyes as you hover above the scar — then you lick across it. You savor her sharp intake of breath, the way the defined muscles of her arm flex under your lips and her free hand comes to weave into your hair.

With a last kiss to her scar you move between her legs, pushing the golden toned fabric of her dress up to her hips. You run your hands up her thighs, eyes connecting with hers — all misdeeds are forgiven and forgotten.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this, take a look at my masterlist for more works!

sexy yellowjackets taglist: @webism @ahauandthesun @chaithetics @szczurkanalowy @cassioo @marleymarleymarleymarley

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #adult lottie matthews x reader #adult yellowjackets x reader

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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

Text

ANXIETY PT 2 | CL16

an: and here she is! i hope you guys enjoy her, please come and talk to me about it in!!

wc: 4.4k

part one

AT FIRST, SHE DIDN’T SLEEP.

Not really. The chair was uncomfortable, the ropes cut into her wrists, and every time she let her eyes close, her mind jolted awake with the same question hammering over and over: Where am I?

At some point, exhaustion won. When she woke, her neck ached from slumping forward. The room was dim, only the soft glow of a lamp in the corner. Her stomach was empty now, hunger gnawing at her ribs.

And Charles was there.

Sitting calmly on a chair opposite her, reading a book like this was the most ordinary thing in the world.

She stiffened, heart thudding against her ribs. “How long was I out?”

He glanced up, gaze unreadable. “A few hours.”

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “You can’t keep me here.”

He sighed, setting the book down on the table beside him. “You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.” She yanked at the ropes again, ignoring the sting. “You can’t just—just take someone and expect them to—”

“To what?” His voice was calm. “To accept it?”

She glared at him, breathing hard. “I will never accept this.”

Something flickered in his expression, but he only nodded. “You’re hungry.”

She clamped her jaw shut.

Charles stood, moving toward the door. “I’ll bring you something.”

“I’m not eating anything you give me.”

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “You said that last time, too.”

And then he left.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper.

He’s lying. He has to be lying.

Doesn’t he?

On day three, the ropes were gone.

She woke in a different room—a bedroom this time, the bed soft, the room too grand to feel real. Dark wood, deep emerald curtains, a chandelier above her that glowed with warm golden light.

She sat up so fast the world spun.

The door was closed. Not locked. She knew that because when she stood, moving hesitantly toward it, she tried the handle.

It turned easily.

Her stomach clenched.

A trick. A mind game. He wanted her to think she was free.

Carefully, she edged the door open, stepping into a long corridor lined with paintings. The air smelled like old books and polished wood. No signs of anyone else.

Her breath quickened. If she was somewhere new, if she wasn’t tied down—maybe she had a chance. Maybe—

“I wouldn’t do that.”

She spun, heart slamming into her ribs.

Charles stood a few steps away, arms folded, watching her with that infuriating calm.

“Do what?” she forced out.

He nodded toward the far end of the corridor. “Try to leave.”

She clenched her fists. “Or what? You’ll drag me back?”

His lips quirked slightly. “You’d only get lost.”

She hated how certain he sounded.

“I want to go home,” she said, voice shaking.

Charles tilted his head slightly. “You are home.”

A chill ran down her spine.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

Charles said nothing. He only turned, walking away.

And the worst part?

Somehow, she knew he was right.

She would get lost.

Because she had no idea where she was.

On day five, she ate.

Not because she trusted him, but because hunger gnawed at her so fiercely she could barely think.

Charles didn’t comment when she finally picked up the fork. He simply sat across from her at the long dining table, reading another book, drinking from a glass of wine.

Like this was normal.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

He turned a page. “Doing what?”

She gestured around. “This. The house. The food. The—freedom.”

At that, he glanced up. “You call this freedom?”

She swallowed, setting the fork down. “It’s more than the chair.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just studied her, his gaze sharp, like he was assessing something.

Then, finally: “Would you like more?”

More.

The word sent a shiver through her.

She should have said no.

Instead, she whispered, “Yes.”

The garden stretched endlessly, walled in by high iron gates. Roses bloomed in neat rows, and somewhere in the distance, a fountain trickled softly.

She stood on the stone path, arms wrapped around herself, the warm breeze brushing against her skin.

Charles had let her outside.

That morning, he’d simply left the door open, said nothing.

And so she’d walked.

Not away—because where would she go? There was no way out. Not yet.

But here, in the open air, something inside her loosened.

She turned, slowly, finding him watching her from the terrace.

She should have hated the way he looked at her.

Should have feared the way he watched.

But she didn’t.

Not as much as before.

And that was the part that scared her most of all.

In the three weeks she was here she still flinched when the doors closed behind her.

She still watched the windows, traced the lines of the gates with her eyes, searching for weak spots, exits, anything.

But she walked freely now.

She could move through the house, through the halls lined with dark wood and grand chandeliers, past the velvet curtains that swallowed all the light when drawn.

She ate when she wanted.

Read when she wanted.

Walked outside in the gardens without him hovering over her shoulder.

It was a trick, of course. A slow, careful noose around her neck that Charles kept loosening, letting her believe she wasn’t trapped—until one day, she’d forget she ever wanted to leave.

But she wouldn’t forget.

She wouldn’t let herself.

Would she?

That night she found the man by the main door.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark suit.

His back was to her, but something in the way he stood sent a jolt through her, something familiar.

Her stomach turned as she took a step closer, her voice hesitant.

“…Carlos?”

He turned, and there it was.

The same sharp cheekbones, the same neatly-trimmed beard, the same deep brown eyes she had passed a hundred times in the lobby of her old building.

Carlos.

Her doorman.

The man who had held the door open for her every morning. The man who had nodded politely whenever she returned home late.

The man who—

Her breath hitched.

He let Charles in.

A chill ran down her spine.

Carlos studied her with a neutral expression, his hands folded in front of him. Not nervous. Not guilty.

Like this was normal.

Like he belonged here.

“I—” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t understand.”

Footsteps.

Soft, deliberate.

Then, a voice from behind her.

“I see you’ve met Carlos.”

She froze.

Charles.

His presence was immediate, filling the space even before she turned to see him standing there, watching, a small smile playing at his lips.

“You know him, don’t you?”

A shudder rippled through her.

She looked back at Carlos, at his blank, unreadable face, at the way he didn’t deny it, didn’t react.

Her mind reeled.

How long?

How long had Carlos been watching her? How long had he been letting Charles in and out of her apartment, standing there while she went about her life, oblivious?

Her stomach twisted.

“Why?” she whispered.

Carlos didn’t answer.

Charles only smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

And in that moment, something inside her cracked.

The days blurred together.

She told herself she was still angry.

Still fighting.

But anger was exhausting.

And fear—fear ate away at her like a slow poison, seeping into her bones, making her limbs heavy, making her thoughts sluggish.

She couldn’t live in a state of panic forever.

Could she?

Charles never raised his voice.

Never locked her in a room.

Never forced her to do anything.

He gave her space.

Gave her freedom.

She wandered the mansion now. Sat by the grand windows that overlooked the gardens, let the golden light of the afternoon spill over her skin.

She could walk outside.

Could touch the flowers.

Could breathe in the crisp, fresh air.

But not once—not once—did she ever make it past the gates.

She thought about running. She did.

But there were cameras.

Carlos was always nearby.

And Charles…

Charles would know.

He always knew.

He was in her head.

It was in the little things.

The way she’d hesitate before touching something, as if waiting for his approval—even though he wasn’t there.

The way she found herself choosing clothes she knew he liked, soft fabrics, delicate things, things that felt beautiful.

The way she caught herself listening for his voice, the sound of his footsteps, the subtle shift in the air that meant he was near.

She hated it.

Hated how much space he took up in her mind.

Hated how her body had begun to relax around him.

One evening, she sat by the fire, staring into the flames, the heat licking at her skin.

Charles sat across from her, reading.

Just reading.

Not speaking. Not looking at her.

But his presence—his quiet, calm presence—wrapped around her like a thick, suffocating blanket.

She should leave.

She should go to her room.

But she didn’t.

She stayed.

And when the fire crackled, and she flinched, he finally looked at her.

“You’re safe,” he said.

Simple. Soft.

Something in her chest ached.

She turned away, her jaw tight.

Because she knew—she knew—what he was doing.

But her body didn’t.

Her body had already started to believe him.

Sometimes at night she would have nightmares, she dreamt of her old apartment.

Dreamt of the cold metal handle of her front door.

Dreamt of reaching for it—

And finding it locked.

No matter how hard she twisted, how much she pulled, it wouldn’t open.

She turned, frantic, searching for help.

And there, standing in the hallway—

Carlos.

His face calm. His hands folded in front of him.

Behind him, Charles.

Watching.

Smiling.

She jolted awake.

Heart pounding. Breath shaking.

She wasn’t in her apartment.

She was here.

In the mansion.

And when she turned her head—

Charles was there.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed.

Not touching her. Not speaking.

Just watching.

Her breath caught.

“Bad dream?” he asked, voice low, smooth.

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t move.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying her with that unreadable expression.

And then—

“You called for me.”

Her stomach dropped.

“No, I—”

“You did.” His voice was steady. Certain. “You said my name.”

A lie.

Had to be.

She wouldn’t have.

Would she?

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

His eyes flickered to her hands, then back to her face.

“You don’t have to fight me,” he murmured.

The worst part?

It sounded kind.

It sounded gentle.

She turned away, pressing her forehead into the pillow.

She didn’t want to know if he was lying.

Because if he wasn’t—

If she really had called for him—

Then she was already losing.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she awoke a second time to a knock at the door.

She had learned to read the silence in this house.

Knew when Charles was near, knew the way the air shifted when he entered a room, how his presence curled around her like an unseen force.

But this—this was different.

The knock echoed through the grand halls. Sharp. Unexpected.

A voice—low, irritated—followed.

Charles.

She couldn't hear the words, only the tone.

Something wasn't right.

She barely had time to sit up before her bedroom door burst open.

Charles stepped inside, closing it swiftly behind him.

And in his hand—

A knife.

Her breath caught.

Not because she thought he would kill her.

If he wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be here.

But because there was something in his eyes she had never seen before.

Fear.

True, genuine fear.

She pressed herself against the headboard as he approached, his steps controlled but urgent.

"You're going to listen to me," he said, voice low and edged with steel.

She forced herself to breathe. "Charles—"

He climbed onto the bed, hand pressing the cold blade to her throat.

Not enough to cut.

Just enough to remind her that it could.

Her body went rigid.

"You’re going to go downstairs," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "You’re going to smile. You’re going to hold my hand. And when they ask, you're going to say you're my fiancée."

The word made her stomach churn.

Her fiancée.

Not his prisoner.

Not his victim.

His fiancée.

Her pulse pounded against the knife. "Who—"

"My parents."

It was barely a whisper.

And suddenly, she understood.

The fear in his eyes. The tension in his jaw.

This wasn’t just about keeping her in line.

This was about him.

She watched his expression shift—controlled, but cracking at the edges.

She had never seen him like this.

So close to unraveling.

So vulnerable.

The realisation came slow.

Charles wasn’t untouchable.

He wasn’t some godlike captor, holding all the power.

He needed something from her.

And that meant—for the first time—she had something to use against him.

She swallowed, carefully. "And if I say no?"

The knife pressed harder.

His jaw clenched.

"You won’t."

Silence stretched between them.

And then—

He begged her without words.

Not with his mouth, but with his eyes.

She should have relished it.

Should have felt some twisted sense of victory.

But all she felt was cold.

Because beneath all the threats, beneath the blade at her throat—

She realised something else.

Something worse.

He was just as trapped as she was.

And against her own will, against all logic—

A part of her wanted to know why.

She walked down the grand staircase, her heart a chaotic drum in her chest. The house felt suffocating, every shadow looming over her like a heavy cloak, pressing down on her. Charles followed closely behind, silent, his presence more oppressive now than ever before.

She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck, the tension in his hands as they gripped the knife, still not far from her body. She tried not to think about the cold metal, the threat of it against her skin.

At the bottom of the staircase, in the vast, immaculately decorated living room, an older couple stood near a fireplace. They were every bit the aristocratic picture Charles had painted of them. His mother, a stately woman with silver hair and a soft smile that somehow didn’t reach her eyes, wore an air of command. His father, frail and stooped, leaned on a cane, his expression hardened and distant, eyes too tired to care about anything beyond his own world.

His mother, however, noticed her immediately.

"Ah, Charles!" She said, her voice surprisingly warm, eyes lighting up with something that bordered on excitement. "And you’ve brought her."

Her eyes roamed over the woman who had entered their world, as if appraising her like some prized possession, before settling with a satisfied smile.

"Isn't she simply delightful?" The woman’s gaze swept over her, a smile as sharp as glass on the edge of her lips. "She’s even lovelier in person, Charles."

Charles stiffened behind her, and she could feel the way his breath quickened slightly. His mother didn’t seem to notice or care. She had already turned her attention back to her son, a pleased hum in her throat.

The woman approached her slowly, as if she were a rare animal, circling her with the precision of a predator. “Tell me, darling, when are we expecting the wedding?”

The question landed like a blow, and the world seemed to stretch in that moment, spinning around her. She blinked, unsure of what was happening - her mind whirling. The wedding?

Before she could gather her thoughts, his mother was speaking again.

“Charles, you’ve been keeping her all to yourself, I see. We can’t have that, can we? Our family is far too old, too proud, to let such a treasure go unnoticed - she’s gorgeous.”

Her voice was syrupy sweet, but there was something cold in her gaze, something unnerving in the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It felt like the woman was sizing her up, mentally cataloging every detail of her appearance - her clothing, her posture, the subtle trembling of her hands.

“Charles, I’m so glad you finally found someone who matches our family’s standards.”

The words didn’t sit right. The way his mother spoke - like it was all an agreement, a deal in place. She wasn’t just meeting a future daughter-in-law. She was assessing an asset.

“Isn’t she beautiful, darling?” His mother asked, turning back to him with a satisfied grin. “Just like your father wanted.”

The mention of his father caught her attention. Wanted.

A shiver ran through her, the weight of it suddenly hitting her all at once. It wasn't just about love for him.

It was about inheritance.

And Charles.

Charles wasn’t in control of this.

She met Charles’ eyes across the room. His face was stiff, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t smiling. There was something behind his gaze, something darker than she had ever seen before.

Her stomach twisted.

She was trapped in his world now, his carefully constructed reality that he was trying to force her into.

And still, she played her part.

“Thank you” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady.

His mother’s smile widened. “You’re a smart girl. I can see why Charles chose you. You’ll fit in here nicely.” She stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder in a way that felt oddly possessive. “Now, let’s talk about the wedding details, shall we? I’m sure you’ll want the very best of everything.”

“Of course,” she managed, her voice quiet.

But in the back of her mind, questions bloomed like thorns. Why had Charles done this? What was his real game?

She could feel it now, the slow creeping of understanding. He wasn’t just trying to trap her.

He needed her.

More than she could have ever known.

And with each passing moment, her sense of self-control slipped further away, replaced with something far more dangerous.

Before she knew, before she could take one more final look at Charles, she was being ushered into a room with a tea set already waiting for them. She sat opposite his mother, crossing her legs and placing her hands on her lap - the way she thought his mother would like to see.

The tea was delicate, floral, and far too refined for a situation like this. It sat untouched in the dainty china cup the maid set before her, the scent of lavender and something citrusy curling around her like an unwanted embrace.

Charles’ mother sat opposite her in the vast room. Light spilling through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air. Everything about the scene should have felt elegant, serene even - but it didn’t.

It felt staged.

It was too perfect, too rehearsed. Like a moment out of someone else’s life that she’d been forced to step into.

His mother was watching her, a satisfied smile playing at her lips as she stirred her tea with an air of contentment.

“I must say, I’m relieved,” she said suddenly, her voice smooth but edged with something unreadable. “I was beginning to wonder if Charles would ever find someone.”

She tensed slightly.

His mother sighed, a hand resting delicately on the table as she glanced out towards the sprawling estate grounds. “After his diagnosis, well…” She let the words hang in the air, almost wistfully. Then she turned back to her, eyes sharp. “It’s just so wonderful that he’s found you.”

The breath hitched in her throat.

Diagnosis?

She kept her expression carefully neutral, but inside, something splintered.

His mother didn’t seem to notice - or if she did, she didn’t care. She carried on, voice gentle, as though she was discussing something as mundane as the weather.

“For so long, we worried, you know. The unpredictability, the… obsessive tendencies. It’s difficult, raising a child like that. Difficult to see them struggle with attachment. But look at him now - he’s changed so much.”

The world around her seemed to shrink, the space between them closing in as though the very air had turned thick and suffocating.

Attachment.

Obsessive tendencies.

Her mind raced, pieces snapping into place with a horrifying clarity.

His break-ins. The way he had watched her, orchestrated everything. The control. The calculated way he had slowly stripped away her autonomy, little by little, reshaping her world until she had no choice but to exist in his.

She had thought it was just manipulation. Just power. Need.

But it was more than that.

His mother reached forward suddenly, placing a delicate hand over hers, her grip deceptively strong. “You must be something special,” she said with an approving nod. “He’s never taken to anyone like you before.”

The room felt colder.

Her chest tightened.

Because now, she wasn’t just his little prisoner.

She was his fixation.

A carefully chosen piece in a puzzle he had been building long before she had even realised she was part of his game.

And Charles, he wasn’t just keeping her here because he wanted to.

He was keeping her here because, in his mind, she was slowly the only one who could truly ever belong to him.

Who could get him that inheritance.

To fulfil his life.

The weight of his mother’s hand on hers sent a chill up her spine. She willed herself to stay still, to keep her fingers from trembling beneath the woman’s touch. The realisation sat heavy in her chest, a slow creeping dread wrapping around her lungs like ivy.

She tried to swallow it down, to push past the rising nausea, but the older woman’s gaze held her in place - evaluating, assessing, approving.

“It really is lovely to finally meet you, dear,” she continued, giving her hand a light squeeze before retreating, picking up her tea as though she hadn’t just cracked the foundation of reality beneath her. “I always knew Charles had a heart for romance, but he was so particular.”

She managed a small, weak nod, the motion barely there.

Particular.

Another careful choice of words.

His mother sighed, giving her a knowing smile as she took another delicate sip of her tea. “Oh, don’t look so worried. He’s an intense man, yes, but intensity is just another word for devotion, isn’t it?”

Devotion.

The world settled uneasily in her stomach.

She forced herself to glance away, her eyes flickering towards the garden beyond the glass. The estate stretched out endlessly, its perfectly kept hedges and winding paths giving the illusion of freedom when she knew it was nothing but a gilded cage.

“I-” she started, but the words caught in her throat.

What could she even say?

That she had no choice?

That she was here against her will?

That her presence at this table was a careful act of survival?

His mother’s eyes were too sharp, too perceptive.

“That’s why I’m so pleased to see you two together,” his mother went on, placing her cup back into its saucer with a soft clink. “A woman like you will be good for him. Anchor him. Make sure he doesn’t slip into those… darker tendencies.”

She felt like she was going to be sick.

“I-”

But the door swung open, and there he was.

Charles.

His presence filled the room instantly, the air shifting with an almost imperceptible tension.

His expression was carefully neutral, but she saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes, the slight tightening of his jaw.

“Mother,” he said smoothly, stepping inside. “Father and I have just wrapped up in the office and while this was a lovely surprise-”

His mother cut him off, beaming. “Oh, Charles, really. No need to sound so stiff. We simply had to meet your lovely fiancee.” She gestured towards her, as though presenting a mule at an auction.

Charles’ gaze briefly flickered to her, unreadable, before he turned back to his mother.

“As much as I’d love to extend the visit,” he said, his tone still polite, still composed, “I believe you and Father have tea at the Wetherby’s soon, don’t you?”

His mother waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, they won’t mind if we’re a little bit late-”

“I’m sure they won’t,” Charles interjected smoothly. “But it would be terribly rude to keep them waiting, wouldn’t it.”

A beat of silence.

Then his mother gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head with a knowing smile. “Oh, you always were one for manners. Perfection.”

Perfection.

She rose from her seat gracefully, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

His father walked in, just as she stood, casting a look at Charles that lingered. There was something unspoken in it - something that made Charles’ expression harden just slightly.

Then his mother spoke.

“You know,” she mused, tilting her head, “for an engaged couple, you don’t seem terribly affectionate.”

The words sat heavy in the air.

And then he looked at her.

It wasn’t just a glance, it was a look that sliced right through, that saw. As if he were peeling back the layers, peering at what lay beneath the surface.

Her breath hitched.

Charles didn’t hesitate.

Before she could process it, he took a step, his hand was at the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, tilting her face up towards him. There was barely a second to react before his lips were on hers.

It wasn’t a hesitant kiss.

It was possessive.

Demanding.

Her body stiffened, instinct flaring up like a warning siren. But there were eyes on them.

His mother.

His father.

Watching.

Judging.

Expecting.

So she kissed him back.

The act of submission made something shift.

Charles’ fingers tightened in her hair, his other hand pressing against the small of her back, drawing her in. His lips moved against hers with a slow-burning intensity, something dark and unreadable curling at the edges of her mind.

The worst part?

For just a fraction of a second, just a sliver of time too small to admit aloud, she forgot.

Forgot the circumstances. Forgot the control he had over her. Forgot the door that had locked behind her, the cage she had been placed in.

For a moment, it was just heat.

Just breath.

Just the slow, sinking sensation of something shifting inside her, something she wanted to recoil from but didn’t.

The sound of his mother’s voice snapped the moment in two like a brittle twig.

“Alright then!” she chimed, her tone light, amused, but edged with something knowing. “Don’t defile your poor fiancee before the wedding, Cha!”

A soft laugh.

His father sighed.

Charles finally pulled back, just a breath away, his lips still perilously close to hers. His eyes locked onto hers, dark, unreadable, his breath steady and controlled.

But there was something in his gaze.

Something that said: I felt that too.

Her stomach twisted.

PART THREE...

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @taetae-armyyyyy @theoslove @iimplicitt

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 3 months ago

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~{ Heyyy, so I’ll gonna be busy for a bit so this should hold you feral gremlins off for a bit so I don’t have you all on the edge of my woods with fire and pitchforks, soo hope you like }~

•The Dancer•

So when John Constantine walked into the house of mysterious only to see the FUCKING embodiment of time itself which is known to almost never bring good news [and who he has has had a few “one night” stands with, even if said “one night” lasted like a month with no change in the outside world] so John is internally freaking out inside.

And that’s when Clockwork turns to him and floats over to him until he’s in front of John and he says in his old and ethereal voice.

“Hello Constantine” Clockwork says and John feels like the pit in his stomach has grown into a cavern by what the embodiment of time may want from himso john turns his charm up to a fucking 11.

“Hello to you Clockwork, may this be a house visit maybe we could start where we ended last time~” John says in a flirty tone but in his voice in a underlying nervousness that he knows Clockwork can hear.

That’s when he hears Clockwork chuckle and responds with “Fear not, John I do not carry misfortune with my visit”The Ancient of time says with an air of amusement and mirth in his eyes as he looks at John. “Than why the sudden visit?” John ask still with a bit of a flirty undertone in his voice, look his not taking ANY chances with Clockwork anytime soon.

“The introduction of new Prince of death is in the coming days and you are in attendance” Clockwork says with finality that told john that he didn’t have a chance in the matter of his attendance and before John can say anything back Clockwork says “I will summon you when it is time, be prepared.”.

And he’s gone back to wherever Clockwork goes to do his job and John is just relieved there was no bad news for the world but then John realizes what clockwork said.

“THERES A NEW BLOODY FUCKING PRINCE???”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

After a bit the ghost side of Danny’s (half)life has chilled out with him and the other ghost coming to an agreement for them to leave amity Park alone and Danny will go to The Ghost Zone three times a week to make sure he stays healthy and to hang out with them.

And turns out the observers wanted more power around a few thousand years back and used their influence and power to turn Pariah Dark insane and put him in the nap-time box so they could rule The Ghost Zone so Danny beat their collective asses and help Pariah Dark chill TF out so he’s back to normal and over this time has grown close with Danny and has come to think of him as a son so there chill.

Oh and don’t worry Pariah Dark also beat the ever loving shit out of the observers for turning him insane and turning him into a tyrant

But for the human side of Danny’s life has become more dangerous for Danny.

The G.I.W and his parents have somehow managed to get ahold [ VLAD ] of blood blossoms and turning their weapons more and more deadly for him and with Jazz off to college and Tucker, Sam having their own things. Danny is not having a good time and he talks about his concerns for his safety with Pariah Dark and he suggest that Danny moves over to the ghost zone full time as it is too dangerous with the blood blossom weapons and it’s not like the Fentons will notice him missing.

So Danny grabs his things and moves to the ghost zone full time and as he’s basically Pariah Dark’s ghost son at this point he is welcomed as the new prince so he’s just been hanging around the ghost zone for awhile [3 months].

And in this time Danny picked up dancing from a new friend of his who in her life was called..what was it again, oh yeah a gypsy! And she taught him how to dance and it has been affecting his ghost form so that’s fun and after he was found dancing in the gardens.

He had earned the nickname “The Dancing Prince”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-•Appearances•

Danny’s dancing wear-

[ He likes to dress in more airy clothes when he’s dancing and the hair the accessories for when he’s dancing was given to him by his new friend ]

Danny’s normal wear-

[ Danny’s hair grew out a bit so when he’s not dancing he just holds it up with ribbons]

+ Danny has jewelry but I can’t find any good ones so that really up to you gremlins

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

~{ And that’s it! Hope this holds you guys off for a bit and the new friend I mentioned is mostly based off one of my OCs so just a random thing and if you gremlins like this I’ll probably add more but anyways byeeee }~

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staylovesmiley · 4 months ago

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Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 6

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

The coming weeks were filled of soft moments with the hybrids. Ever since you had confronted Chan about the flowers the wolf had warmed up to you a considerable amount, though he still never initiated any form of affection with you. Instead he chose to bask in the moments you would give him a warm smile in passing or when you would come to tell him dinner was ready, your voice so sweet he thought he’d surely get a toothache. The best though, was the morning he seemed to sleep in a bit too late. It was unusual for him to miss breakfast and you had been so worried you made your way into his room and sat on the edge of his bed where the wolf hybrid was deep in his slumber. You couldn’t help but stare at how peaceful and handsome he looked in his sleep. Carefully you carded your fingers through his soft dark curls, admiring his strong features until suddenly his hand shot up and wrapped around your wrist.

You startled lightly, jumping at the contact before you were pulled down against his chest snuggly. You were only dazed for a moment before giggling as you cozied up against him. “Sleepy?” You whispered to him, fingers still combing his hair back and scratching lightly behind his tall dark ears the way Jeongin seemed to like. “Hmph-“ he grumbled, nosing against your neck as he slowly gained consciousness. “Pretty?” He sounded so soft and confused, your heart melting as you pulled back to meet his gaze. “Yeah?” He smiled, a goofy half-asleep smile and shook his head before nuzzling back into the crook of your neck, the opposite side from where Jeongin’s bite was quickly scarring over. “Nothing, just making sure I wasn’t dreaming…”

Today you were in the living room, curled up on the couch with Hyunjin laying his full body over yours as you played with his long dark hair and absentmindedly twisted it into braids before undoing and redoing them again. The small fire place was lit, heating the cabin nicely from the chill of winter outside and casting the two of you in a soft orange glow.

You could hear Minho in the kitchen rummaging around, about to get up and check on him when you heard the older cat call out for someone else. “Changbin! Come here for a second?”

The bunny hybrid came down from his room upstairs, a confused look on his face as he approached the older. “What’s up, hyung?” Minho smiled sweetly, pointing to the fridge and cabinets. “We are out of a lot of things we get from town…do you think you could take Pretty with you and pick these up for me? I made you a list.” At the sound of your name you perked up, looking over the back of the couch to see Changbin watching you with an unreadable expression. “Um, yeah okay. Pretty? Borrow Lixie or Sung’s winter coat and meet me outside?” You nodded, giving Hyunjin a kiss to his forehead as an apology for having to leave him so abruptly before jogging up the stairs to find the two hybrids in Felix and Minho’s room. “Hey can I borrow a winter coat from one of you? Minho asked me to go to town with Changbin?” You were slightly confused, having thought the town was too far of a walk and you hadn’t seen any car around the property in your time living there. You weren’t about to question them though and decided to just go with it.

Felix was up in a second, grabbing a thick coat and sweater from the closet before holding them out to you. You see, even though they had brought your clothes from your camp they had all been of the summer variety since you hadn’t been planning to be in the forest for so long when you had originally packed.

Since it had gotten so cold you had to resort to borrowing clothes from the hybrids, your current attire consisting of a pair of sweatpants from Jisung, though the hole made for his tail had been sewn shut temporarily for you, and a long sleeve from Jeongin.

You took the items from the cat and gave him a smile as you thanked him, slipping the sweater and coat on over the shirt you already wore before heading back downstairs to slip on your sneakers. The only thing you couldn’t borrow from there were shoes, unfortunately, so they would have to do. Walking out the front door you saw Changbin waiting with his fluffy black ears tucked under his beanie and his tail completely covered by his pants and coat. He gave you a soft smile before waving you over. “Ready to go?” You nodded, looking from the hybrid to out over the forest. “How long is the walk?” You asked, voice a bit wary at the thought of how long it could take them to get down the mountain and back in the cold.

Changbin gave you a funny look before shaking his head. “We won’t be walking.” You then saw that he was standing beside a bicycle with a metal basket attached to the front of it. “Oh! Oh that makes a lot more sense…” the bunny laughed at your reaction, shaking his head as he began pushing the bike towards the woods. “Come on, we’re gonna wanna get going so we can get back before dark.” You nodded, following behind him quickly to not lose track of him once you entered the forest.

The ride to town wasn’t terrible, with Changbin riding and you standing on the little pegs on the back wheel with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The wind bit at any exposed skin as you flew down the winding road down the mountain.

by the time you made it to town your cheeks were ruddy and your nose tinted pink. “You okay? You were holding on pretty tight back there.” The hybrid teased, causing your already flushed cheeks to deepen a shade as you ducked away from him. “Just worried I might fall off with how fast we were going…do you do this often?” You were quick to change the subject, following behind him closely as he chained the bike up and headed for a small shop that seemed to be somewhat of a convenience store.

The town was pretty small, nestled in a rural area on the side of the mountain near the base. It was clearly still very far from most of civilization, perfect for locals who lived scattered around the vast forests or hikers passing through on the way to or from a trip on one of the trails your husband had been telling you about, although that could have all been a rouse for him to create a reason for the two of you to go on a camping trip to the mostly isolated mountain in the first place.

The shop keeper greeted Changbin and yourself kindly, going back to reading her paper as the two of you perused the shelves. In a cloth tote bag he had brought with you the hybrid began putting things like canned fruits and vegetables into the bag, looking over the list Minho had given him briefly as he continued shopping.

As you stayed in the shop longer you began wandering off from him, looking over what the store had to offer when you noticed a display full of Christmas ornaments and your eyes widened. Was it really already Christmas? You couldn’t believe it had been that long since you had been on the mountain. “Bin?” You called out as the hybrid was already up by the shop keeper to purchase the items he had collected. An idea had sprung up in your mind and you absentmindedly fiddled with something deep in the pockets of your coat that you had remembered to grab before leaving. “Yes, pretty?” He answered, joining you after paying for the groceries. “Can I look around without you for a bit? I just wanna check out the different shops…it’s been so long-“ He smiled, nodding as he understood how much of an adjustment it must have been for you to go from living in a more populated area, at least he assumed, to living so isolated in the woods for months. “I’ll be a few doors down at the butchers, okay? Meet me by the bike when you’re finished.”

Once left alone you smiled triumphantly and began picking up a few things of your own, your plan slowly coming together in your mind the more stores you visited.

It was about an hour later when you finally met back up with the bunny, his smile bright when he saw you coming towards him. “There you are! Thought for a moment you’d run off or gotten kidnapped.” You laughed, hitting his arm playfully before walking alongside him back the way you came.

Since the way back was mostly uphill you both chose to walk with the groceries both in the basket and hanging off the handlebars. “So what all did you end up getting? Looks like there are a lot of bags here…” You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. “Just some stuff I needed…ya know- I didn’t have too much with me when I was left here.” He nodded slowly, feeling like you weren’t being completely truthful but decided not to press the issue further. “So how are you able to pay for things from the stores here if you guys don’t have jobs?” You asked, the curiosity had been eating at you since Minho had asked you to go to town but you hadn’t been able to find the right time to mention it. “Hyunjin. You know how sometimes when we finish our chores he is in our room painting?” You nodded slowly, confused as to where this was leading but you waited for him to continue. “Well we bring them to town and a shop owner lets us sell them there and we come by to collect the money from them every other week.” Your eyes widened comically at the revelation. You knew that the ferret hybrid enjoyed painting and sketching in his free time, and he was extremely talented, but you hadn’t realized he sold the paintings he made. “That’s so smart- I don’t know why I didn’t connect the dots earlier considering he is always working on a new project but I never see them around the house for very long.”

The rest of the walk was spent in relative silence, the freezing wind and uphill trek making it a bit difficult to catch your breaths as it was.

By the time you arrived back at the cabin the sun was already setting and the two of you wasted no time putting the bike back in the shed next to the chicken coop and carrying your purchases inside. You were quick to place the things you had bought in yours and Jeongin’s room, joining Minho in the kitchen afterwards to wash up and help with dinner like usual.

“What are you up to, pretty? Changbin says you’ve been being very secretive since you were in town…not plotting to leave us, are you?” Though his tone was teasing you could tell some worry laid behind it. “Never. Just needed some…uh- feminine things.” The cat made a face, his curiosity quickly killed as he finished putting away the things Changbin had purchased for him. “Got it, no more questions from me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you began working on the nights meal.

Late that night after everyone had already gone to bed you snuck out into the living room with the bags of stuff you had purchased earlier in town and got to work, trying your best to be as quiet as possible as to not wake the hybrids either their sensitive hearing abilities.

You were up all throughout the night making sure everything was perfect, having passed out on the couch once you were done as you were too tired to make it back to bed.

That’s where they found you the next morning, curled up with one of the throw blankets and clutching a couch cushion to your chest. “Pretty? What are you doing sleeping out here?” Jeongin was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, focusing on your sleeping form and not noticing the decoration now covering the room.

At the sound of his voice you woke, rising slowly to meet his gaze but it was no longer fixed on you.

There was tinsel wrapped around the bannister and handrailsof the staircase, as well as lining the mantle over the fire place with a set of warm toned string lights. You couldn’t figure out how to sneak a Christmas tree into the cabin, or where you would be able to find one unless you went out into the forest and chopped one down yourself, so instead you had set the presets you had wrapped along the hearth of the fireplace. There were four on each end, one for each of the hybrids, and more tinsel was laid out around them making them look like they were resting in little sparkly nests.

The whole house smelled of the sugar cookies you had stayed up baking as you decorated, the finished product placed on a tray for you all to decorate later with icing and sprinkles you had also gotten while in town.

Jeongin stared in wonder as he did a little spin around the room to take it all in, the other hybrids slowly filing into the living room as well as each of them woke up to start the day.

“Pretty what is all this..?” Minho questioned, a soft smile playing on his lips as he approached you. “Well- when we were in town I saw the decorations and realized it was almost Christmas! So…I wanted to do something nice for you all as a thank you for taking me in-“

Everyone was looking around with wide, curious eyes as the entered the room…all except for Changbin who looked physically tense at the sight. “Um- I know it isn’t much but i promise I’ll clean it all up afterwards!”

They all stood around, clearly unsure of what to do and you looked at them a bit confused until Minho spoke up. “You did amazing, pretty.” The older cat said as he made his way over to where you still sat on the couch and have a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ve just never had a Christmas before.” Oh, you hadn’t realized that they may have never had the chance to celebrate holidays before. Now their hesitation and curiosity made more sense to you.

Moving over on the couch you patted the spot beside you before motioning to the rest of the living room. “Okay um- come and take a seat and then I can give you guys your presents?” That seemed to snap them all out of the trance they seemed to be placed in, making their way over to find a seat either on the couch, an arm chair, or the floor. “We get presents…?” Jisung said softly, brown eyes as wide and soft as ever as he looked towards you hopefully. “Of course you do! You were all on the nice list this year.” You teased, a mischievous grin on your face as you got up and began passing out the gifts you had bought for them one by one. “Don’t open them until I say to, okay?” You instructed them as you handed Jisung his gift, seeing how excited the chipmunk was to be receiving a present.

When you got to Seungmin the hybrid in front of you looked confused, eyeing the small box you had placed in his hands curiously as you moved on to the next person. Changbin still looked frigid where he sat on the floor next to the beagle, causing you to hesitate as you held out a small bagged gift to him. “Um…Binnie? Is everything okay?” Your voice was soft and the bunny looked up at you slowly before forcing a smile once he saw the worry creased in your brow. “Yeah, I’m fine just- this isn’t technically my first Christmas…” you frowned slightly at his words, looking to Minho who simply shook his head and nodded back to the hybrid in front of you. “Oh- well um…you just look a little tense? I’m sorry if I upset you I know some people don’t like how overwhelming this kinda stuff can be I should have-“ Taking pity on you Changbin cut off your ramblings, shaking his head as he placed his hands over yours where they still held on tight to his gift. “Thank you, pretty. This is all so nice….I just don’t have very fond memories associated with the holiday is all. I’ll be okay.” Nodding slowly, you allowed him to take the bag from your hands before moving to sit back down in your spot on the couch next to Jeongin.

You eyed the bunny carefully, feeling there was still more to be said before you turned to look at the rest of the hybrids. Jisung in particular looked like if he didn’t get to open his present soon he’d vibrate out of the chair he was sitting on so you giggled a bit before speaking up. “Okay, you can open them-“ Before the words were even fully out the hybrids all began tearing into the wrapping paper excitedly, even Chan seemed to be full of childlike joy as he opened his own gift.

It wasn’t much, just things you were able to find in the small gift shops that were in town. Minho got a new cook book with recipes you looked over to make sure they used ingredients you had ready access to and would be easy for him to recreate.

Jisung got a romance novel as the hybrid seemed to always want you to tell him stories with similar plot lines, the hybrid didn’t know how to read but you could read it to him and teach him how to read it himself over time.

Felix got little soaps carved into the shape of a cat and little paws that smelled like vanilla and peppermint since he had been complaining about the scent less soaps they had currently being too boring.

Hyunjin got some new pencils and a sketchbook as you were sure his old one was on its last few pages and he was always misplacing his other pencils.

Chan got a bracelet woven with dark leather cords and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him stare at it with so much joy as he asked Felix to help him put it on.

Jeongin got a stone carving of a fox about the size of his hand, something he could use to decorate his room as he didn’t seem to have many personal effects and the way his face lit up and he nuzzled against your neck with soft whispers of thanks made your heart flutter and something in you preen with satisfaction that you did good in picking his gift…a strange new feeling washing over you as if you could feel the exact joy and excitement as the fox.

Changbin got a pair of thick wool mittens where the tops could be folded back and held in place by a button to turn them into fingerless gloves, something to come in handy on trips to town or when our doing the laundry as you had noticed he didn’t have any when you went out with him the day before.

Lastly, Seungmin, who stared dumbfounded at the baseball he held. You had noticed one day when you were helping Changbin put away the laundry that he had a mitt sitting on his dresser but you didn’t remember seeing a ball anywhere, thinking that maybe he had lost it or never had one to begin with your eyes lit up when you saw it in the little shop. The beagle blinked once, twice, before he suddenly felt wet tears slipping down his cheeks. Quickly, before anyone could notice, he wiped them away and got up silently to go to his room.

You watched with a twinge of sadness as he left, feeling like you may have made a mistake with the gift you had gotten him but oh how wrong you were.

A chorus of thank yous rang out, Jisung even launching himself into your lap and begging you to read to him from his new book which you happily promised to do later after the chores for the morning were finished.

“I also made some cookies for us to decorate if you’d like..? It’s not the healthiest breakfast but it’s something we used to always do as kids growing up was decorate cookies in the morning before our lessons…” Felix’s eyes lit up as he jumped from his seat, almost knocking Chan over with the force where the wolf had been leaning against him to show off his new bracelet. “Yes! I mean- yeah sure that sounds nice..” You giggled at him, shaking your head as you carefully moved Jisung out of your lap and gave both him and Jeongin a kiss on the temple before getting up and following the younger cat into the kitchen. “Can you bring the cookies and decoration supplies to the table? I’m gonna start on making us some hot cocoa to go with them.” The hybrid beamed, nodding so fast his fluffy ears seemed to bounce as he took the trays of cookies to the dining table along with all the various sprinkles and icings you had bought.

As you busied yourself with stirring the chocolately mixture in the pot on the stove, you felt someone come up behind you and give a gentle tug on the sleeve of the sweater you still wore from Felix. “Hm?” You questioned softly, not turning to see who it was though you smelt the strong smell of cedar washing over you. How odd- “Um…P-Pretty?” Oh- that was…Seungmin’s voice. You turned to face him slowly, afraid any sudden movements would scare him off. “Yes, Seung?” The hybrid had his eyes downcast, hands nervously playing with the hem of his sweatshirt as he visibly took a deep breath. “Why did you get me a present when I’m always running away from you…?” His voice sounded so small, so….afraid. Your heart ached to reach out and pull him close but you didn’t want to overwhelm him when he was finally opening up to you. “Like I said…you were all on the nice list. The nice list means you get presents.” You shrugged it off like it was so simple, but the hybrid let out a little huff. “That’s just what they tell small children to get them to behave all year…I saw it in movies.” He was pouting, and god was it so adorable you had to fight the urge to poke his cheeks. “So why did you really get me a present?” You frowned, still stirring the mixture of chocolate and milk as you turned your focus back to your task and away from the hybrid. “Because you deserve nice things, Seungmin. You all do. I know you’ve had to go through so many hardships in your lives and it wasn’t fair to any of you…I don’t know exactly what happened to all of you but I know that it wasn’t right and that you deserved and still deserve so much better than that.” For a moment the room was silent, save for the sounds echoing from the dining room where the hybrids seemed to be creating a competition out of the cookie decorating task you had given them.

Suddenly you felt arms wrapping around you and hot breath fanning over your neck where the beagle nuzzled his face against you seemingly to hide himself or maybe mold into you until you became a single being, you weren’t sure but the embrace was tight and you could feel his body trembling against yours lightly. “Thank you….for everything you are doing for us, for me-“ you felt his tears suddenly wetting the back of your neck and causing the hair there to become damp. “Seung-“ you went to turn around, to embrace him back but his hold on you tightened. “Don’t move! Please- just…just stay like this? Please….” You nodded, the desperation in his voice breaking something inside you and made you want to comfort him more but you listened to him, continuing to stir the hot chocolate in the pot as he silently sobbed against you before pulling away a few moments later. You stayed still a bit longer, getting the feeling he didn’t want to be seen in that state and when you finally did look back he was already gone.

You portioned out the hot chocolate for everyone, bringing it into the dining room on a tray and setting it down before noticing Changbin was still sitting on the living room floor with his mittens in his hands, staring at them with such a blank expression worry began building up inside you once more. You made your way over to him and took a seat beside him quietly, your shoulder brushing his gently as you settled. “Are you sure everything is okay, Bin?” You knew you didn’t have as deep of a connection with the bunny hybrid, his interactions with you having always been neutral even if they were in the more positive side. He always seemed to keep you at arms length, not outright avoiding you like Seungmin or being somewhat hostile like Chan, but not quite the warmth and openness you seemed to receive from the others.

He sighed, blinking slowly before he responded. “I was a Christmas gift.” Oh- you thought for a moment, unsure how to respond to that but before you had a chance to he continued. “I was bought for a little girl, probably about five or six years old? I wasn’t much older than her at the time either…She begged her parents for a bunny but they thought a hybrid would be easier to take care of than a normal pet…” A frown settled on your face but you stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. “At first everything was fine, she would dress me up in her dresses and we would have tea parties and play games but then sometime in the spring she got bored of me…She got new toys for her birthday and seemed to forget all about me. I don’t know why her parents kept me for so long, but I lived there for ten whole years…” at that your eyes widened, your voice softly escaping you. “Ten years?” Nodding, Changbin took a shaky breath and you watched as a few tears slid down his cheeks before landing on where his hands still clutched onto the mittens. “After the first two they moved me out of her room and down the hall…I think they forgot about me too. If it wasn’t for their maids remembering to feed me every once in a while I probably would have starved. I don’t think they even noticed when I climbed out the window and finally escaped but….I’m sorry-“

Confusion painted your expression instantly, why was he apologizing to you? “Changbin why-“ cutting you off, the bunny turned and pulled you close to him as he cried. “You did something so nice for all of us and all I can think about is how if there was never a Christmas then I never would have been placed in that awful home….and all this time I’ve been keeping this- this wall up between us because I’ve been so afraid that eventually you’ll forget about me too and I’ll have to lose you like I lost her-“ immediately you pulled him closer, his salty tears continuing to dampen the hairs at your neck as Seungmin’s had earlier but you didn’t mind. You just held him close as you ran your fingers gently through his soft curly black hair. “Shhh it’s okay, Binnie…I understand. I don’t think I could ever blame you, any of you, for being hesitant or distant with me. It means so much to me that despite all of your negative experiences with humans in the past you’ve given me the chance to stay here…and I’m going to do my dammdest to undo any of the harm those awful people before me caused. You know why?” He sniffled, pulling back just enough to wipe his tears before blinking up at you. “W-Why?” You smiled softly, poking his cheek before leaning in to kiss his forehead gently. “Because you deserve kindness, warmth, love…all of you. Even if it takes time, years even- I’ll continue to try and prove it to you all and make you feel it.”

Softly, you heard a different voice speak up from beside you as Hyunjin came to sit on your other side. “I was a present too…for a little boy on his thirteenth birthday. He didn’t really want a pet or a hybrid but his parents thought he needed to learn some responsibility….it was so lonely in that house- I tried so hard to get him to like me or spend time with me but all he wanted to do was go play out with his friends or play video games. I think I stayed for a few years but I didn’t really keep track of the time…it wasn’t until he got himself a girlfriend that he kicked me out and told me that if I came back he’d send me away to a facility where they use hybrids for test subjects-“ the ferret shivered at the memory, cuddling up to your side as he closed his eyes tight as if to will it away. “You’re so much nicer than he was…and you smell sweeter too- I never thought I’d meet a human who didn’t mind how clingy I can get. Even the others sometimes get annoyed with me for it-“

You gasped, thumping his head lightly before pulling him closer with one arm while the other stayed wrapped around Changbin’s still sniffling form. “Don’t you dare say that, Hyunjin. They aren’t really annoyed with you, only teasing…we all love how soft and sweet your cuddles are. I mean I know I do- and if they were really annoyed they would be a lot more forceful when they tell you to stop. Trust me, I notice things and they always have a goofy smile after telling you to get off them as if they don’t really mean it.”

Hyunjin looked back at where everyone was still decorating cookies, laughing and enjoying each others company, then back to you with soft tearful eyes. “You really think so?” You smiled warmly, leaning in to give a peck to his cheek. “If you want I can ask them to dial it down on the teasing towards you.” He shook his head, laying with his head resting against your shoulder. “No, it’s okay. I can always come to you for snuggles when they are being too mean.” He said with a smile, a slight teasing tone of his own in his voice that made you laugh as you reached up to ruffle his hair gently.

You stayed like that snuggled up with the two hybrids as you both watched the rest of your little family have a playful competition over who had decorated the best cookies. It wasn’t until you heard genuine shouting and arguing that you jumped up to intervene, having to pull Jeongin away from a very smug looking Minho while Chan scolded him for eating the fox’s cookie before he got the chance to show you and you began petting the youngest’s hair and reassuring him that he could make another one and you would watch to make sure you got to see the finished product.

Far away from the mountain, with the busy city life buzzing outside, a young man sat in a police station at one of the lead detectives desks as he fidgeted nervously with his wedding band.

“Tell me again sir, from the top, when was the last time you saw your wife?”

author’s note; dun dun DUUUUNNN~~~ hehe Merry (belated) Christmas!! This was an emotional rollercoaster I feel but I hope you all enjoy~ (mild spoiler warning but you may wanna prepare for like- some of the most angst I’ve ever written to come in the next two to three chapters- SORRY)

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024 @xgridx

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killerlittlerejects · 2 months ago

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Why I No Longer Support Anton Morrow Or Blessed Be The Wicked

Okay, we're finally doing this. As always: Do NOT harass anyone involved. This is not what this post is for.

So, this has been a long time coming. I know I keep repeatedly saying that I don’t wanna cause drama but at this point? It’s not even a drama anymore. There’s a glaring issue that’s been circulating the fandom for a while, and up until now, people have either been ignoring it completely or are too scared to say anything at all — which is understandable. I’m frankly scared to be finally making this post. But with most of the fandom beginning to speak up on this, now is a better time than ever.

You’ve all most likely seen my latest, very angry, Jeff rant post, and some of you might have already put together as to who it was about: Anton Morrow, the creator of Blessed be the Wicked.

If any of you remember the whole “mistype” situation that happened in 2024 revolving around BBTW, you already know I have gotten into a bit of a spat with him before. Then it was all cleared up, and we were chill. But now, with all that’s been happening, I’m starting to question that situation as well.

When it comes to creepypasta, you gotta acknowledge and respect both sides of the fandom, because more often than not, they tie together. Anton, however, doesn’t do this at all, creating a space where people feel unsafe and uncomfortable like they have to walk on eggshells.

We are not mad at the fact that you are trying to make BBTW horrifying, grotesque, and realistic. In fact, a LOT of people were hyped for your project. No, we’re mad that you have to be an asshole about it. Shaming anything that doesn’t fit into your view of what a character SHOULD be, hating on the fandom way more than you claim to love it, villainizing characters that should not be villainized, like Jane, who’s a VICTIM of Jeff, not doing proper research (apparently not knowing that Clockwork was an SA victim despite her being your “favorite character”), being a fucking hypocrite (hating shock value yet using it in your work as well), and most of all, claiming to be bringing back the old roots of Creepypasta when you don’t even understand or know what those roots are.

This fandom has ALWAYS been cringy, weird, and unrealistic. I mean, we have a tall faceless man in the woods, a magical black and white clown, and a guy whose skin turned completely white because of BLEACH. This fandom was never realistic!

You can only use the “I mistyped” or “you all misunderstood me” excuse so many times.

Are you telling me you didn’t mean ANY of this?

Like, if I recall, David Near’s, MBK’s, Pastra’s, AND Ekatlani’s Jeff’s are NOT soft boys at all. But you refuse to acknowledge that, don’t you? Because even if they are closer to what you claim to be looking for within a Jeff rewrite, you still hate them because they weren’t what YOU THINK the character could be.

But somehow, that’s not even the worst part. No, the worst thing has to be what you’ve done to Leech. Characters change, I understand that. My personal gripe with her not being the character I initially was excited for anymore is just my personal bias. What’s NOT, however, is the relationship you’ve put her in with Tyrant.

Now, I’m all for toxic relationships. I’ve written them myself, but this? This is straight-up fucking grooming. It’s non-consensual, and you straight-up called Tyrant PREDATORY.

And the fact that you tried to edit your post to hide what you said first tells me all I need to know.

Not to mention, you continuously like to bring up how much YOUNGER she is than the other two (Context: She's in a poly relationship with Tyrant and a character named Marc)

This goes past a toxic relationship, this is straight up fucking CREEPY. You admit that Tyrant is using his VICTIM, cause that’s what she fucking is, as a way to feel like he’s not all the negative, that “he deserves love.” No. Just no.

I’m disappointed. Tired, angry, and disappointed. I thought you were a cool guy, Anton. I thought all of you were cool. I was genuinely excited for Blessed Be The Wicked, as I’m sure a lot of the fandom was. But you showed your true colors the moment your project began to get popular.

Not so politely, fuck you. And if all you can do is complain about is the fandom having fun, fuck off.

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lostintransist · 5 months ago

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Seamstress | Part 7

Check out part 1 here. AO3

CW: Momma drama. If you have a bad mom relationship like I do please read with caution. Also John comes home a bit broken. He gets better but not in this part.

John appears behind you as you are stepping into your shop. When his hand pushes the door open wider from behind you startle.

“Jesus fuck me!” You jump and spin, eyes wide and chest heaving as you confirm who stood behind you.

The slightly worried look on John’s face tells you he didn’t mean to startle you.

“Sorry dove thought you heard me.”

“Apparently my thoughts were too loud,” sheepishly you push the door shut behind him and begin to flick on lights.

Waiting for you at the counter with John is your jewelry box. It looks better than before if that is possible.

“I didn’t stain it,” John runs a finger down the side and you wish that digit dragged down your side instead.

Fuck, bitch you can’t be this horny yet, he just arrived. Apparently, the earth-shattering orgasm from your vibrator last night with the taste of him on your lips wasn’t enough. When did you get so greedy?

“Why not?” You ask as you fold your arms, not one hundred percent sure your bra would be able to trap your steel-tipped nipples.

Glancing from the box to John you see a soft smile. When he looks up at you it grows.

“I noticed how much you seemed to like the grain of the wood and seemed sad at the idea of it being covered up. A few coats of clear lacquer to protect it and it was done.”

“I love it. I’m so glad you chose lacquer. I would have been happy with any choice you made but this? It’s wonderful.” Leaving the box at the counter you waved John to follow you.

“I made you something as well.” Putting a hand on the nob of the door to the back room you spun. “I know it’s not really a problem, but you have complained about going into what you call “power meetings” with only your slacks or your fancy uniforms so I made you something that should hold up against scrutiny.”

John’s arms are folded, head tilted ever so slightly to watch you with the smile tucked under his mustache.

Taking a deep breath you twist the handle and step back into the room. You hung the suit on the wall directly in front of the door so you could watch his face as he saw it. You had paid a pretty penny for the fabric, thread, and buttons. They all came together so seamlessly that even your friend who was a tailor wouldn’t have been able to know a suitmaker hadn’t put it together unless he started to pull it apart at the seams. You had also purchased the silk for his shirt and made that by hand as well.

The smile falls from his face as he steps up to the suit and runs a hand lightly over it.

“Holy fuck.”

Glancing from side to side you bite your lip.

“So what do you think?”

When he turns you know why people like blue eyes so much. John’s blue eyes are enchanting with the tears rimming his lashes. They remind you of the ocean in the photos you’ve seen of tropical places.

“I can’t think of a gift that has ever meant more to me,” he chokes out around the tears in his throat.

“Do you want to try it on?” You suggest, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I want-”

His desires were cut off by the sound of the bell.

Turning you call out.

“Sorry, we are closed today,” when you catch sight of your mom.

The warmth that had settled over you like sunlight as spring breaks chilled to the harshest of winter breezes. Shutting the door to the back room, and your joy from your sorrow you face your mother.

“You didn’t come to Christmas,” she starts.

“I told Pop I would be going to Nana’s this year.”

“You’re still mad at me,” she pouts with her eyebrows.

Your mother had skills in expressing herself without making a scene about it.

“I am not mad, I’m done.”

Your mother stepped up to the counter, slowly opening each drawer of your gift. Snatching it off the counter you placed it on your working desk next to your sewing machine.

“What does being done have to do with not coming to Christmas?”

She’s pulling that mom tone again, trying to force you into a child role whether she knows it or not.

“I do not enjoy the way I feel while spending time with you. I do not like the comments you make or the fact that even when my brother is being rude I am still in the wrong. And I am done putting myself in situations to be hurt because you happened to get knocked up and produce me.”

She had told you once that you were a birth control failure baby. She had been drinking, you had been ten.

“I did not happen to get knocked up,” she sputtered.

Taking a deep breath you point your eyes at the ceiling and pray for patience.

“That is not the point of this conversation and I apologize for bringing it up. What I am saying is that I won’t be spending more time with you until we can go to family therapy. I’ve told this to Pop several times. I will send you a few options between us and will set up the appointment as well.”

“But I am your mother!” She is getting shrill, a sure sign she is losing control of the conversation in her mind.

“And I am grown. Now I have a private appointment I need to get back to.”

“Is this because of the comment about no one paying to see you naked? I’m sorry that you were offended by what I said.”

Your jaw works as your fingers curl into talons and your shoulders stiffen.

“I am not having that discussion here and now. Pick a therapist from the list I send you or leave me alone.”

Mom looks shocked, scared even, at the tone you use. She turns leaving in a huff and you open the door to the back to see John, shirt unbuttoned and eyes blown wide as if someone dosed him with drugs.

“That’s an option? I can pay to see you naked? Is a hundred enough?”

“A hundred?” You ask, confused but slightly hurt that he thought you were so cheap.

“No? Okay, a hundred and fifty thousand?” He looks desperate and hopeful and lost and like he might combust all at once.

You choke on your spit. Did that man just offer a hundred and fifty thousand dollar bucks to see you naked!?

All it would have taken is a glass of wine, a smokey look, and an invitation to bed and your clothes would have disappeared from your body like they never existed. Like damn you had high self-confidence, forged out of hate comments online and in real life, but you weren’t worth that much. Maybe John did like you like you liked him?

He stepped forward, mouth opening to form words when his phone went off. The instant change told you it was work.

“Dammit all to hell and may it never return,” he snatched up his pants from the cot and answered the phone as he moved it to his ear, snarling. “What?”

You watched as the soldier overtook the man. His back straightened as he tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear beginning to work at the buttons at his wrists. Stepping into his space you took over the task freeing him faster than he would have managed. Helping him out of the shirt you fold it over one arm, watching as he disappears below his shirt to reappear through the head hole. You don’t offer to help him remove the pants but take them when offered without comment.

John doesn’t spare you a glance as he pulls his cargo pants up, sheathing the deliciously thick thighs he hides. When he sits to tie his boots you toss the clothes from your arms to the cot and kneel to take over that task for him. Tying them tight you stand and offer him a hand. He takes it, holding on as he stands.

Still on the phone he pulls your knuckles to his lips and turns the phone away from his mouth.

“When I get back, we are talking about this.”

It’s all you can do to nod before he dons his coat and slips into the precipitation of January.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

The last of the snowdrops are blooming when John makes it back home. Between the knocks at the front door and the vibrating of your phone from under your pillow, you wake enough to stumble to the front door. The door opens fully before your eyes do.

John looks haggard, as if he aged ten years in the three months he was gone. A full beard had grown in, the ends ragged and uneven. His eyes flick over you. No expression crosses his face.

“John? You’re home,” the sigh in your last word pulls him through the door and into your arms.

It’s too late for your mind to come up with reasons why dragging him into your room after locking the front door would be a bad idea. Stripping him of his boots and his pants you invite him to lay under the blankets with you by laying them atop him and letting him settle into the mattress. Crossing around the bed you join him between the sheets. Laying on your side you stare at him.

Something about him felt broken and you didn’t dare hold him and make it worse.

“What can I do John?” You ask the darkness between you.

The words settle on him like the ice blown around in the wind of the gulag.

“Tell me what happened while I was gone. I don’t feel real.”

You scoot closer to him in the bed, less than a handswidth between you.

“I brought your suit home. I missed you a few weeks after you left and had nothing but the photo from the party and your gift. My mom started going to individual therapy. We tried a couple of family sessions but the therapist recommended that she do some personal work before we attempt to do much more work on fixing our relationship. My brother called me on my birthday, which was unexpected. I bet my po-”

“I missed your birthday?” John’s broken whisper cut you off.

“Yeah,” you reach out and touch his pinky. He flinches so you shift your hand back, but before it can go too far his hand chases you locking your fingers together.

“When is your birthday?”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“You must hate that.”

The accurate observation surprises you. You’ve talked with other people who have birthdays on holidays, most Christmas and New Year’s babies hate it, birthdays on big celebration days that aren’t the big big ones tend to go either way but for you, it always felt required to have a date on your birthday. Were you out because your date wanted to celebrate you or show off for the table around you?

“I do,” you let out a small chuckle. “My brother was born on May Day, he doesn’t seem to mind it. When is your birthday John?”

“July second.” He pulls in a deep breath, “Will you hold me?”

Small and scared his voice pierces into your chest.

“However you want to be held,” you answer in earnest.

“Lay back?”

You adjust to settle on your back, fixing the pillow below your head. John follows you, as cautious as an alley cat. Once his head is resting against your chest, chin tipped between your breasts you curl your arm around his shoulder next to your ribs and rest your hand on his back. The shuddering breaths that start from him prompt you to keep telling him about what happened while he was away.

“Did you know your muppets came to visit me? They all brought in their own fixes and asked to use your cot. Every one of them woke looking like they had no clue where they were and agreed that they understood why you kept coming back for naps.”

You talk until you drift into sleep, but your dreams are full of stories so maybe you talk to John until you wake.

Part 7 | Part 8

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

#lostintransit #lostintransit writing #cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #john price x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #fluff #a hint of angst

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