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fayes-fics · 9 months

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A Welcome Intrusion

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A drunken Bridgerton in the wrong room could be the start of something...

Warnings: none really... flirtatious drunken fluff, meet-cute.

Word Count: 1.3k

Authors Note: This idea has been lingering in my "wtf is this" pile of scenes I sometimes scribble down idly. I decided to add a little polish and make it a little one-shot, as I could not see it having a natural home in my other WIPs. I also have vague plans to do the same scene setup with Anthony as a character study of how their reactions would differ. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy <3

You are sleeping fitfully - a stifling summer night makes even a thin cotton sheet too much to bear on your overheated skin - when your bedroom is rudely invaded.

In your half-awake, bleary state, you are not even certain someone is in the room at first, your back being turned to the door. Indeed, it’s only when the mattress dips that you truly startle. You freeze, facing away, completely uncertain what to do with a stranger perched on the edge of your bed.

Behind you, you hear someone undressing haphazardly, Clothing hitting the rug in soft whumps. Bile rises in your throat when the effort-filled grunt while doing so is decidedly male.

There is a triumphant noise, and then a body flops back onto the mattress with a self-satisfied chuckle. After a few beats, all is still, and you steel yourself to speak.

“Kind sir,” you murmur, not daring to move, clinging to the far side, “please leave my room.”

There is a decidedly undignified squeal of shock, more akin to a young girl, him flipping over onto all fours next to you, the movement causing you to turn over in equal surprise.

You both stare at each other as if burned; you clutch the bedding high around your neck as he pants lightly, recovering from the apparent scare you gave him, his breath carrying the rich aroma of expensive brandy. In the shaft of moonlight leaking through the curtains, you see the curve of his cheekbone, the sharp line of his jaw. Whoever he is, he is very pretty. Very drunk, yes. But very pretty, too.

“What in god’s name are you doing in my bed?” he demands, sounding alarmed but mildly slurred with intoxication.

“You are in my bed!” you squeak back, knuckles tightening around the sheet you hold, even as your traitorous eyes roam lower, entirely without meaning to. A slice of lithe, freckled chest muscle flexing over ribs as he draws heavy breaths makes something deep inside you quake. You quickly dart your eyes back up to his face.

“I think not! This has been my bedroom since I was three years old!” he attests with the blithe certainty alcohol provides.

Oh, so he must be a Bridgerton. That is perhaps an easy guess, seeing as you are staying at Aubrey Hall ahead of tomorrow’s midsummer Hearts and Flowers Ball.

“I don’t think they would assign a family bedroom to a guest,” you answer with a flare of sass.

“Yes, I quite agree. That’s why you should not be here,” he huffs indignantly.

“I was shown here by the head housemaid. That is my trunk there, the footmen brought in,” you point out, gesturing across the room.

He seems to ignore your argument but suddenly swings around almost violently, looking at the room.

“I don’t have that on my wall,” he frowns at a sizeable floral painting over a dresser.

“Maybe because this isn’t actually your bedroom?” you volley back with uncharacteristic brashness, likely a reaction to his presence affecting you the longer he remains.

He whips back and narrows his eyes at you. “Did Anthony put you up to this? Or Colin? Change my room around and hide you in my bed to fool me? Are you some doxy?”

“How dare you, sir!!” you blanche, horrified at his coarse language and that he could think you are any sort of woman of such low morals.

“My sincerest apologies,” he immediately looks thoroughly contrite. “You do appear far too well-bred to be such. But it still does not explain your presence in my room.”

“No, it does not,” you answer through gritted teeth, annoyance flaring at his continued erroneous insistence. “And that is because this is not your room…. dunderhead!”

The ferocity with which you spit the last word has his face morphing into one of befuddled incredulity, a single eyebrow arching.

“Sorry, that was impertinent of me,” you flush, dropping your gaze ashamed.

No!” he rushes out, “I… I liked it,” the confession apparently takes him by surprise as much as it does you, judging by his confused frown at his own words.

But then he seems to shrug and nod decisively as if agreeing with himself before he looks back to you, shifting so the light colour of his eyes catches the moonbeam.

“Who are you?” he inquires, cocking his head to the side.

“Miss y/l/n,” you respond.

“I’m Benedict…”

“...BrIdgerton,” you finish for him. “I assume, based on the fact you have a childhood bedroom here.”

He laughs; a rich, resonant sound that makes your insides jolt.

“Indeed,” he smiles, the ivory of his teeth catching the light. Again, you are drawn to how pretty he seems to be. “I am… quite intoxicated, Miss y/l/n”, he confesses, clutching a hand to his chest as if holding a doffed cap, “‘tis entirely possible I am indeed not in the correct bedroom.”

“I would venture that to be the correct assessment,” you offer with a meek smile.

“I sincerely apologise, yet again,” his face contrite as he shuffles into a kneeling position, his palms resting upturned on his thighs as if seeking forgiveness.

The problem is all your eyes can do is slide down his bare torso, lingering in places they shouldn’t—like the swell of his pectorals, the dip of his waist, and the pull of material at the junction of his thighs just a few inches above where his palms rest….

“I suppose it is only fair I let you look, seeing as I so rudely interrupted your sleep,” he comments dryly.

Your eyes jerk back to his face, met with a pointedly raised eyebrow and a knowing crooked smirk. You feel your cheeks aflame and bow your head, biting your lip, knowing you have been thoroughly caught in your ogling.

“I… I apologise, sir,” you mumble quietly, “I… I have not seen a man without a shirt before…” you admit in a whisper.

“And do you like what you see?” he teases, tone etched with beguiling menace, his mouth twisted into an intrigued pout as you dare to raise your gaze again.

“I… I…,” you falter, knowing that admitting such would be scandalous.

“Your secret is safe with me, Miss y/l/n,” he winks, “and I hope I am forgiven.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you bustle out, tugging the bedding high under your chin again, wanting desperately to conceal the flush you know is creeping over your skin with every second spent in his half-naked presence.

“I suppose I should take my leave,” he sighs, his cadence reluctant, perhaps hoping you will dispute his assessment.

“That would be… the most prudent course of action,” you nod even though your fingertips itch to grab his hand and ask him to stay for reasons you don’t entirely understand.

He slides off the bed and scoops up his discarded shirt, a moderately unsteady gait as he tugs it back onto his body.

“Goodnight, Miss y/l/n,” he bows with a touch of comedic chivalry before he takes his leave. You cannot help but stare at his shapely rear as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight, Mr Bridgerton,” you call softly, and before you can stop yourself, more words are spilling from your lips, something about this man making you daring. “I do so hope you will offer me a dance at the ball tomorrow to make amends for this intrusion.”

Even you are astounded by your words. Benedict pauses, his hand frozen on the door handle as he turns back around slowly, his mien surprised.

“It would be my pleasure,” he rumbles after a pause, a tingle running through your being.

“Until tomorrow, Mr Bridgerton,” you offer, heart pounding.

“Until tomorrow indeed, Miss y/l/n,” the velvet of his voice tickling your skin long after the door snicks closed behind him.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaa @urfavnoirette

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paradiseismine · 3 months

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Backstage - Finn Wolfhard x reader

Love note from Nina: I’ve been meaning to write this one since I’ve seen Finn’s pictures from Atlanta/Birmingham; but couldn’t find the words until now.

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x f!reader

Summary: Finn invites you backstage after a concert with his band, The Aubreys.

Warnings: so much smut, heaven help me.

It was a warm Saturday night and your girl friends nearly dragged you out of your shared apartment in New York. They had tickets for some indie band’s concert and wanted you to tag along. After some protesting, you finally gave in.

A quick subway ride later, you got to a small theater where the concert was about to start. It wasn’t sold out (“The Aubreys” was still an indie band, after all), but there were plenty of people in there. One of your friends was able to get all three of you to the very front of the stage, the closest you could possibly be to the band.

As the concert began, you suddenly detested that night a lot less - a tall black haired boy singing the first song really got your attention. You locked eyes with him for a moment, and that was all it took.

- Do you know that boy’s name? - you nearly screamed into your friend’s ear.

- Which one?

You were so mesmerized, you barely noticed there were more than one person up there.

- The black haired one - you rolled your eyes, as if it was obvious. - The one with the guitar.

- Oh - she said, rolling her eyes too. He was SO your type, she should’ve known. - That’s Finn Wolfhard. You know, Mike from Stranger Things?

- Really? - your eyes went wide.

You had seen Stranger Things before, and while it was definitely a good show, you surely hadn’t paid enough attention to that beauty right in front of you.

The first song was over and you kept your eyes glued on him. Finn took a few steps forward, crouched and read the setlist (a piece of paper taped to the stage floor), dipping his lips in a small glass bottle. You assumed it was some sort of beer that he was drinking. He took a sip and his eyes met yours a few seconds later. The smile he gave you simply melted your heart. You smiled back and mouthed “great show”, to which he simply mouthed back “thank you”.

You spent the rest of the concert vibing to the songs, swaying your body slowly from side to side and singing along the choruses and other small phrases you were able to pick up from. Finn had his eyes glued on yours. It was like he was singing to you specifically; everybody else just happened to be there.

As the concert was coming to an end, you felt someone touch your shoulder from behind.

- Excuse me, miss - you turned around and saw one of the security guards of the venue.

- Yes? - your eyebrows furrowed, as you were utterly confused as to who that man was and what could he possibly want. He came closer and nearly whispered in your ear, which was even weirder.

- Mr. Wolfhard would like to know if you can come backstage. They’re about to finish the show - he said, in a serious tone.

You blinked rapidly a few times. Like wait, what?

- I, um… Sure - you were able to respond. - What do I do?

- Come with me - he said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You followed the guard through a small passage that led backstage, where the dressing rooms were. He opened a door whose sign said “The Aubreys” in bold red lettering.

- Mr. Wolfhard will be with you in a minute, miss. Please wait inside and make yourself comfortable.

- Ok, thank you sir - you responded, entering the room as the guard nodded and shut the door shortly after.

Ok, this was definitely something. Your friends saw you leaving with the guard, but you had no time to explain what happened. You quickly texted “lol mr. wolfhard invited me backstage, ttyl” in your group chat, just so they wouldn’t be worried.

Not long after that, the door opened again.

- Dude, I’m so tired, I could lie on the floor and sleep right now - a shorter, blond-haired boy said, his eyes seeming droopy behind his glasses.

After finishing the sentence, he noticed you.

- Whoa there - he looked at Finn.

- That’s the girl I told you about - Finn said, pointing towards you with his chin.

- Oh - the other boy responded, his eyes widening. - I’ll just grab my stuff and go to the car, ok? I’ll have the driver take me home then you text him when you want him to come back and pick you up.

- Deal - Finn patted the boy on his back. - Get some rest, bud.

The blond boy grabbed his backpack, some other stuff and left, waving you two goodbye. You were a bit awkward there for a moment.

- Sorry about Malcolm - Finn chuckled after his friend shut the door. - He insisted on playing tonight, even though he's a bit sick, so…

- It's ok - you smiled. - It was a great show.

- Aw, really? - he smiled back, happily.

- Totally… I didn’t know you had a band, but I loved it. Indie rock is so up my alley, I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about you guys before.

- I didn’t know such a pretty girl would come see me, I’m surprised I still caught your eye - he tilted his head to the side slightly, playful. - I would’ve dressed nicer if I knew you’d come, you know?

- That does sound a lot like flirting, Mr. Wolfhard… - you chuckled, jokingly slapping his arm.

- Yeah? - he leaned in closer, a naughty little smirk on his face. - That’s good then.

There was something about the way he talked, the way he looked at you, something about his hands or his toned arms, maybe… Everything made you feel so hot, so beautiful, so desired. You couldn’t help but bite your lip.

- So what’s your name, pretty girl? - he grabbed your chin, smiling.

- It’s y/n - you chuckled. - What do I call you? Finn? Finnie?

- Call me what you want - he leaned in even closer. - I intend to call you “mine”, if that’s ok with you.

He was so cocky, his posture was irresistible.

- I’ll just call you “mine” too, then - you reached for his neck, bringing his lips down to the level of your own.

The kiss was slow, at first. His tongue soon asked for entrance and danced with yours, as his hands groped your waist possessively. You grabbed the hair at his nape urgently, pulling his face impossibly closer to yours, savoring his lips, his scent, taking him in as much as you could. Finn Wolfhard was such a good kisser, it was nearly a crime.

His hands then reached down to grope your ass, but he seemed to want a bit more of a direct contact.

- That leather skirt of yours is begging to be tossed to the floor, isn’t it? Poor thing… - he said, reaching for the zipper on your lower back. - Do you mind if I put it out of its misery?

- Do it - your voice was breathy with desire. - But I could say the same about your t-shirt… It also would appreciate the floor very much right now.

He unzipped your skirt, and it soon fell to the floor. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up and off of his body, both garments now keeping each other company on a nearby carpet.

His pale skin was soft to the touch, his chest now taken by your wandering hands. He alternated between fondling your ass and harshly groping it, making you moan into his mouth.

After he satisfied the urgent need to grope you, Finn put his arms under your butt to lift you up and off the floor, carefully depositing your body into a dressing table.

- Is this okay? - he asked, his voice raspy and sensual. - Is my pretty girl comfortable?

- Sure - you nearly moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring his body closer.

He leaned in for another round of heated kisses, and your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it quickly and immediately unzipping his pants.

- Those pants gotta go, don’t they? - you murmured, enraptured by his touch. - May I? - you inquired, lingering your gaze at his throbbing erection underneath his opened dark jeans.

- You call the shots, babe - he answered, his lips swollen from making out with you. Finn immediately discarded his pants and shoes, taking the time to take off your boots as well.

Soon, his pants were off and so was your shirt: your breasts were now getting covered in open mouth kisses, Finn seemed to be loving them, burying his face in between them. One of his hands went around your back, and his eyes shot up at yours for permission. You nodded lightly, your lips parted, hungry for some more of his touch. He unhooked your bra in a single movement, discarding it quickly.

With both hands, he kneaded your breasts eagerly, suckling into your nipples alternately. You felt like a feast in his hands.

You were both stripped down to your underwear, and Finn didn’t want to waste any time.

- Can these come off too? - he held the sides of your panties, pouting his luscious red lips.

- Only if these come off as well - you ran the sides of your feet at the sides of his boxers.

- Deal - he smirked, gliding the thin fabric of your panties down your smooth legs.

He seemed mesmerized by the sight of your glistening wet pussy. His lips quivering, his mouth nearly agape, his brows furrowed in what could only be described as pure lust. Finn kneeled in front of you, burying his face in between your legs without any further ado.

You let out a high pitched moan at the first flick of his tongue, surprised and pleased. He moaned at the taste of your pussy, making your slit vibrate deliciously in between his lips. You hissed as he kept licking your clit, his tongue circling you with the perfect pressure, the perfect speed… He was simply perfect. An index finger soon entered your drenched hole, pumping in and out of you as his tongue continued its irresistible work. As you came undone, your muscles involuntarily clenched around his finger, causing him to moan even more as he licked you through your high.

- You taste so good - he licked his lips as he stood back up, his finger still pumping in and out of you. - I bet you feel even better.

He took off his finger and held his length up to your soaking wet pussy.

- Can I?

- Yeah - you could manage to moan.

He slowly inserted himself into your tight hole, whimpering and breathing heavily at the feeling. You were even better than he had imagined. You pulled his hips closer, your eyes searching for his, trying to get him to pick up the pace. He noticed what you did, and couldn’t help but oblige.

Finn’s hair gently swayed around his neck as he thrusted, perfect, nearly in slow motion. Damn, that boy had *such* rockstar energy. You kept looking at him, eyes low with lust and pleasure from his movements, but also delighted by his beauty.

His hands grabbed your thighs possessively, harshly, trying to claim them as his. He had such beautiful hands, such a tight grip, ugh… You’d let him do whatever he wanted to do with you at that point.

- You feel so good - you moaned, squeezing him with your cunt.

- Ah, don’t squeeze me like that, baby girl - he gently grabbed your neck. - I can’t cum inside you…

- You could, if you wanted to - you teased, squeezing him again.

- You’re so naughty, princess, what should i do to you? - he removed himself from your pussy, afraid he’d cum too soon.

- Whatever you’d like, babe - you looked at him with a raw, lewd gaze.

Finn’s cock twitched in desire.

- You know, that low cut shirt you were wearing gave me some ideas…

- Oh, yeah?

- Uh-huh - he moistened his lips as his hands reached out for your naked breasts. - Can I put my cock in between them? That’d be so hot…

He squeezed them greedily, lustful.

- Sure, babe - you answered, smirking naughtily, holding yourself in an inviting way.

Finn guided his length into the valley between your breasts, and you pushed them one against the other to accommodate him. He was slick with your fluids already, so it was much easier to glide himself in that tightness you created with your hands.

His size allowed you to get the tip of his cock in between your lips, gently sucking it as he thrusted in between your boobs. His breathing was audible now, he’d even let out a few moans here and there.

You had never felt hotter in your entire life. You felt profane, naughty, lewd, everything. And you loved it.

- Damn, babe - he moaned, breathless. - You’re impossibly hot, can I cum in your mouth already?

You lightly nodded, sticking out your tongue so his tip would leak right in the middle of it. A few moans later, Finn released himself into your mouth, covering your tongue in thick, hot ropes of his cum.

You gently licked his tip clean before swallowing his seed. He was still trying to catch his breath, and the sight of you doing that certainly didn’t help.

- I swear you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met - he panted.

- It was my pleasure, darling. - you chuckled softly.

Finn helped you get dressed and put his own clothes back on, chatting about the concert and asking some more about your musical taste. It turns out, you both loved The Beatles and wish you had a Time Machine to chill in the 1960’s together.

- Thank you for the evening, y/n - he smiled. - I had a great time.

- So did I - you smiled back at him.

- I’ll get my driver to drop you off at your place, is that ok? - he ran his fingers through your hair, his other hand busy with his phone.

- Sure - you nodded. - That’s very kind.

- No problem - he seemed to open a different tab on his phone. - Now, can I have your number?

He handed you the phone, his eyes bright and kind. You typed in your number carefully, afraid you’d mess up. You handed him back the phone, happy.

Soon, his driver arrived and he kissed you goodbye before you left the venue, just to avoid any remaining paparazzi. You walked to the car, greeted the driver and kept quiet the whole way home, reminiscing what happened. Wow.

Your heart was nearly thumping out of your chest when you finally got home and lied down on your bed after that amazing night. And as you thought it couldn’t get any better, your phone lit up.

New message - unknown number

Hi y/n, it’s Finn. did u get home safe? when can I see u again?

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #imagine #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #smut #trevor spengler #trevor spengler x reader #finn headcanons #finn wolfhard #rockstar girlfriend #and yes i’ve just tagged this rockstar girlfriend cause finn is #he is a rockstar

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unholyhelbig · 11 months

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Requests are Currently: OPEN

[When they are open, you can request here. You can also click here if you just want to chat, or have any questions]

Buy me a coffee ☕[Fundraiser to help my mom]

Marvel:

Kate Bishop x Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Daisy Johnson x Reader

Wandanat x Reader

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Stranger Things:

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler

Pitch Perfect:

Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale

Emily Junk x Aubrey Posen

Pitch Perfect Horror Week

Warrior Nun:

Ava Silva x Sister Beatrice

Wednesday:

Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Request Rules:

DO NOT INTERACT with my work if you are not 18+. While most of the stuff that I write isn't NSFW, there are violent themes and I will block you if this rule is broken.

There are a lot of prompts in my inbox, and while I try to get them done in a timely matter, I do have a lot going on most times, so I will post when I post.

While I try to keep my fanfiction gender neutral, some of it will be directed towards she/her or she/they pronouns as that is how I identify and it's hard to break that habit. Mostly gender neutral though!

There are a few things I won't write (Trigger warning for these): Pregnancy, Self-harm, Suicide, or anything underage.

I prefer requests that have a little bit of wiggle room. Sometimes it's hard to conceptualize a longer plot and include everything. I'm not talking about one word prompts here, but I'd like it to be less than a paragraph if possible.

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the-bugs-under-ur-skin · 18 days

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Yandere Kel, Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, and Hero sitting in their S/O's lap - Omori

[yandere Kel x reader]

-he usually likes to lie on you so if you redirect him to your lap, he'll get attached

-he's not afraid of affection at all, so if you want him in your lap he'll do it

-but then he gets too comfortable with it

-sitting on the couch? he's in your lap. trying to get work done at your desk? he's in your lap.

-sometimes he'll still try to sit in your lap even if you aren't sitting!

-he's at first a little bashful about being in your lap

-he always wants to be manlier and impress you, so he feels like he shouldn't be the one in your lap

-but once you reassure him and he gets used to it, he's totally blissed out

-he becomes very proud as if he isn't the one in your lap

-he's lounging around, nuzzling into your and bragging to anyone who mentions it

-he's a little to excited to fall asleep, but he probably would eventually since he's so reluctant to leave your lap

-you probably need to remind him not to yell since he's right in your ear

-he's usually pretty chill but he will get frustrated at people interrupting you both like this

-he can get into petty arguments so he'll usually just stomp over to you for comfort

-if you are preoccupied, just lean back and he'll just sit in your lap and pout until he feels better

-your lap is his favorite chair now, so get comfortable

[yandere Sunny x reader]

-the moment he trusts you, he'll get cozy in your lap like a cat

-he's not too shy about it since I can imagine him doing it to people he's close to before

-but now you're all he cares about so be prepared for a clingy cat

-he IMMEDIATELY falls asleep in your lap

-and he's not shy in public either

-if you're at a picnic with everyone, he's not embarrassed to crawl in your lap and take a nap while everyone chats

-if he can't sleep, he'll just stare up at you until he drifts off

-he can be at peace in any scenario as long as he's in your lap

-he definitely dreams in faraway about this, completely isolated with you while sitting in your lap

-it's a common joke among the entire group that he's glued to your lap

-he doesn't care about any sort of teasing and is way more upset when someone tries to convince him he actually needs to leave your lap every now and then

-if you can handle it, he'll just crawl on your back if you need to get up

-he doesn't get emotional all too often, but if he does then it's your lap he runs to

-jealousy of a chummy stranger, fear of SOMETHING, or any damage he's taken after a fight can be fixed when he crawls into your lap

-this is his default cuddle position, so get used to letting him in your lap because he won't listen to you if you ask him to move

[yandere Basil x reader]

-he's superrr shy so you'll have to tell him to sit on your lap

-he's extremely rigid and doesn't know what to do with his hands so he just stares down and keeps his hands in his lap

-you'll have to gently push him against you so he can actually get comfortable

-he's one of the few that won't sit in your lap and go to sleep or watch TV

-he'll just stay facing towards you, watching your face

-don't feel pressured to stare back because if you do he'll probably pass out

-movie nights are useless dates since he'll just crawl into your lap and watch your face

-he's pretty shy with PDA, but if he feels he needs to sit in your lap he may or may not ask if you need to sit down just to get into your lap

-he's very emotional, so he needs to sit in your lap and cry into your shoulder sometime

-and with everything he does he'll try and find a new way to make it a way to manipulate you

-so even if you don't feel like having him in your lap, he's going to cry until you let him

-and if he thinks you're getting distant then he'll crawl into your lap and then cry

-especially if there's a reason that you need to get up for any reason because then he'll be sad and jealous!

-it's just plain greed- if you keep letting him in his lap, he'll get more dependent on being in your lap

-sure, if you limit his time in your lap then he won't be as addicted to it, but then he'll just find something else to latch onto like holding hands or petting his hair

-he's as greedy as he is clingy

[yandere Aubrey x reader]

-she's probably the most shy about it

-she really doesn't want to look soft in front of anyone and really wants to be strong for you

-sometimes she'll pull you into her lap in a way to show that she can protect you or calm her jealousy

-but if you ever see her crying or if she opens up to you, she really needs you to just pull her into your lap and comfort her

-her anger and aggressive behavior is just a facade

-she's just a soft and vulnerable person who wants to rely on someone

-she latches onto you and cries until she can't

-afterwards, she's going to need to sit there a lot more often

-i mean, she opened up to you! she ripped her heart out and gave it to you! you need to let her in your lap whenever she wants

-sometime she'll just order you to sit on the sidewalk just so she can cuddle into your lap

-all of your dates will usually involve her cuddling up to your lap or at the very least laying her head in your lap

-she loves sitting by the pond and just lying in your lap, it's one of the few times she won't force herself to be mean or have to deal with the stress around her

-at first she wouldn't want other people to know that she's that vulnerable

-but eventually, she realizes its nobody else's business and will just kick anyone's ass who teases her about it

-and if somebody tries to make you get up and steal your attention (which usually just means somebody asked you to move because you're in the way or made prior plans) she'll crash out

-she'll push them back into a trash can or tree and just drag you to her house where you both won't be bothered

-she really just needs this time with you, it's the only time she can be herself

[yandere Hero x reader]

-he's not used to this

-he's the tall gentleman, he feels like he needs to be the one to let you lie in his lap like a princess

-so he's very flustered when you pull him into your lap

-it's very refreshing, though

-he's always trying to be the best for everyone around him, so its so relaxing to just have someone else take care of him

-he's probably going to be the one who hops in your lap the least, but it's not a one time thing

-every now and then he'll get super burnt out and he just nervously asks if he can crawl into your lap and have you comfort him

-if you ever offer it, he'll immediately agree

-he's not shy at all and will just chuckle and lie into your lap

-definitely the type to take a nap whenever he gets into your lap because it's such a relaxing change of pace

-he will give a little pout if you have to get up, but he's not as bad as the others where he'll try and make you stay with threats or manipulation

-he'll just distract himself by baking for you or writing some sappy love letters since he's such a sap

-so even though he's more casual then the rest about this, he's probably the most appreciative of it on a mental level

-he's the one with the most responsibilities and also hardly gets comforted like the others could

-plus, he loves when you take the lead for once, it flusters him like crazy!

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br0-k3n-sch00lb01 · 5 months

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Oh- oh- I'm sorry- Sorry! It's not in my title, So I'm not quite sure what's in that vial- But that sickness that you have is vile!!

O-Oh, I'm sorry, sorry! T-Terribly- so sorry, sorry! Just stay down a moment, I can tend to - tend to- tend to you—!!

Friendz!!

@n3hmof1sh + @cru3l-th3s1s (Husbandz!! ><)

@basilcatt143 < one of my best friends (ily jayyyyyy /p)

@the-worm-machine < another one of my best friends!! Ily omori!! /p ><

@amethiist143 < a newer mutual that i still really love… !!! /p of course!! ^^

@o-m-o-r

@starfilled-galaxy

@cloud-of-corvids

@intothevoid125 (mother…)

All of our headmates + tags:

HOST/ UNKNOWN:

host: 📻

Blurry: ⌛️

Unknown: ❓

—

OMORI:

Basil (the bitch one)- 🌿

Canon RW Basil- 🌸

HS Basil- 💐

Sunny- 🎻

Kel- 🛹

Aubrey- 💒

Hero- ❄️

Capt. Spaceboy - 🪐

Sweetheart- 🎀

Stranger- 🗝️

Mari - 💌

Omoriboy- ♠️

—

MISC/SINGLE FROM SOURCE:

Wally Darling - 🏠

Link - 🟡

Kagamine Len - 🍌🎶

Aled Last - 🌀

Artemis (Sailor Moon) - 🌙

Marcille- 🪞

Kokichi- 🎲

—

NOT SOURCED/OC:

Milo- 🎠

Mello/Mellohi- 🍈

Sol- 🎫

Opal- 🍰

Tryst- 🌻

Cosmo- 🐚

Zip- 🥀

Fanfic info:

uhhh i’ll write short omori fics now?!

I mean no proshipping and typical stuff.

but yeah ships stuff like Heromari, Kelbrey, Sunflower, Spaceheart, Suntan, Cactiflower, Photobomb etc is welcome!! Just send me an ask and i’ll try to answer as soon as possible!! Character X Reader is also allowed! I love doing those heheh… um.

So yeah!!

also u can send prompts and NSFW reqs too (including gore)!! I like prompts and they can be as custom as u want! So go ahead and shoot ur shot guys!! I can also do non-ship/ platonic!! Anything really!!

#charlie rants #host post

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cokesnipprz · 10 days

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art dump from my computer

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bloodyblobaub · 1 month

Note

(sorry i don rlly know how to use tumblr askboxes is it right???) SO ABOUT YOUR OMORI x DANGANRONPA AU. can you tell more about the victims, the blackeneds? the survivors??? the cases??? THE MASTERMIND??? WHAT IS STRANGERS TALENT

(you did do it right dw)

i am unclear of the death order because I haven't made it yet but here is some information ↓

Blackeneds, Victims and Survivors

The victims and blackeneds will base off of what kind of motives that happens and the characters reactions and relationships. Speaking of relationships, they characters will not know each other other than siblings such as Mari, Sunny and Omori. (making Omori and Sunny brothers) And Kel and Hero.

The survivors are unknown for now

Cases

Because this is going to be a form of fanfiction because I can't do a visual novel or a fan game so the cases will be written, which means they will be shorter then the games (a lot shorter) but longer then the manga

Lastly Strangers talent:

I do not want to say his talent but there are two (kinda)

Thanks for asking

#omori #omori fandom #omori game #danganronpa x omori #information #stranger omori #aubrey omori #hero omori #basil omori

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hocuspocusbabyy · 4 months

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A ring of bright light: Chapter 2. ‘Perfect stranger.’

Warnings: none?

Paring: Eloise Bridgeton x Female OC

Description: Eloise meets her suitor.

Word count: 1.5k

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

“A Diamond knows how to dance.”

“A Diamond knows when to nod.”

“A Diamond knows if to smile.”

When her elder brother Anthony married, Eloise knew the burden of marriage would fall next to her. The entire situation with Kate had bought her a year and a winter at Aubrey house was something even Whistledown could not penetrate.

She knew the weight of her name, of the responsibilities that wrapped around her like smoke. The towering legacy of her father, sisters, brothers…of their family now trailing as she prepared to marry also. Anthony had set it up, a young, wealthy and respectable Count from the northern coastal region.

Count Arthur Brennan.

The family had hands in agriculture, supplying cattle to 80% of the tons across England. Though they had yet to meet, Daphne had assured her of his worth and good looks as though that would sway her any further from the inevitable truth.

She expected difficulties. Gossip, growing pains, resistance from the ton who would have preferred a representative from their family to be wed in her place. Though she found it increasingly harder to dispute them. She had focused on the future, her mother, the family and simply moving forward. She had pushed against the curve for long enough, the impending arrival of Penelope and Collins first child was a testament to that. Eloise simply had to take the bullet now.

Unfortunately.

"Are you always so silent when you’re concentrating?" Arthur chuckled, leading her delicately across the room.

“Doesn’t do well for them to know I am a bad dancer,” she sighed as she glared down at her feet.

“I’ve never heard of a ton who could not dance.” The gentleman, her husband to be quoted, bemusement settling deep into his features as he watched the frustration vibrate and ricocheted from his bride.

“I simply preferred books over tap shoes.”

“Ah, well that at the very least may help us.”

“How so?” Eloise asked, finally looking up towards her dance partner, blowing an unregulated strand of hair away from her eyes. The tingles of ashen locks create a mesh filter against her view.

Arthur grinned, as the woman’s face finally appeared to him unobscured. “Dancing and reading are quite similar,” slowing their movements the Count took a step back to take in the princess properly. The way gluttonous creatures stared at prey or children dreamed of chocolates - Eloise struggled to distinguish between the two. “You simply have lose yourself in it.”

“Follow my lead.” Arthur breathed leaning in against her ear, “just because we are forced to be here, does not mean we cannot obtain any joy from it.”

Eloise almost let out a smile at the observation, at the very least her brother had found her someone with a working pair of eyes and brain. Which was more than could be said for many of the people gathered in the ballroom around them. She was half sure Lady Downling would go blind with anguish should they dance a moment longer. Her daughter had been the prime pick for the upcoming season before Eloise had agreed to meet the count.

“Here,” Arthur pulled Eloise close, situating hands where they needed to be. Guiding her through the process, as any gentle person would.

“You will step on my feet,” Eloise protested and tried to step out of the grasp.

“Put your feet on mine.”

“What?” Eloise blurted out, surprised by the demand.

“If you’re worried I’ll step on your toes then just put them atop mine. It will also help you with footwork and knowing where to place your feet.”

For a moment, she thought about it and then, hesitantly, recently there were moments Eloise found herself on the verge of what could only be referred to as complete and utter madness. Though she had to admit, she was intrigued.

Eloise placed her feet on top of the Count. Placing one of her hands on his shoulder and clasping onto the other for dear life. “Now a dance involves two people. Very similar to a conversation. No matter how good of dancers they are, they have to be able to synchronise with their partner, watch them in a way a strategist would.”

They took one step and then another and then another, following the rhythm of the music that played softly through the walls. Eloise struggled with the urge to look down at her feet with each step, but understood the taste and marked her prey. Eyes baring down into the Count, a sight she would apparently have to get used to, though she couldn’t say the particular blue held was unappreciated.

They danced, softly swaying with the room. The air around them painted a light golden hue as the chandelier burned down. An arrow and a deer, circling one another till their inevitable connection and demise.

“How did you learn to dance so well? I did not take you for the type that would enjoy this,” Eloise whispered, not wanting to be louder than the music, not that it were possible, however with so many eyes on her she grew weary of ears too.

“And how is it you know so much of me without having met me before?”

“I did my research.” Eloise deadpanned, her elbows sticking out at the most uncomfortable angle as they moved.

“Well I hope that I may still surprise you.” He explained a quaint expression encapsulating the man’s face. Eloise took a moment to take in his other features as the dance continued. Such as her groom's hand the skin around his left was scared, rough and discoloured. His skin glowed a soft pink rather than a pale freckled white as were the rest of him. It made her stomach knot how sometimes cruel fates are less to the living acknowledgments of what had been done.

Rumour has it the count had sustained the injury during a fire at his estate, a fire which undoubtedly took his father's life and thus his youth along with it. Ascending to the head of his family at the mere age of 19. Maybe that was why Anthony and he had gotten along so well, they were of similar origins. Count Pieré Brennan had died five years ago, leaving behind his only son and second wife to stake claim.

A claim which would now belong to Eloise also… should everything go according to plan.

Her gaze trickled off to the hundreds of paintings hung in all depictions on the vast walls, the familiar faces of the family, knoblemen and people who had stayed, many of Eloise herself at multiple ages. The chandelier hung high and cast a circle of light across the wooden floor, illuminating single moments of what this place was – a home for all that had needed it.

There had always been something unreal and eerie about the palace. It wasn't prettiness no - it was an ethereal grace that was breathtaking, The halls tied themselves like tethered string weeping upon the draft of silence, the cracks peaked beneath the pale and flawed wallpaper that flaked like skin; mimicking that of eyelids. Though seemingly glowed in the dim light of the drowning day, flourished under the bewilderment of her childhood, Eloise remembered these walls and the floors she’d always dreamed would taste like honey.

Not to mention the many faces and bodies which resided within the palace at any given moment, for multiple variations of time. The vast chess floor of marble and oak glazed beneath her feet, as an advanced player Eloise knew every creaking floorboard and loose tile throughout the whole palace.

"A little rust is nothing when the heart is of pure gold." Her father would say.

Then her eyes locked with another. Eloise faulted, her feet surly would have let her stumble if Arthur hadn’t been there. A pair in which she had never acquainted before.

“Hold tight and trust me,” Arthur whispered suddenly. They dipped, Eloise’s cheeks dusted a light pink from the rush of blood to her head, her previous target of attention now lost to the crowd.

“What was that for?” Eloise forced a laugh, trying to send light hearted, to push past her loss of concentration.

Arthur sighed leaning forward again, “If this were a battle you would surely be dead.”

“Lucky for me we’re just dancing.” Eloise pointed back, a sickening feeling of awareness, transparency, being seen flooding her senses.

"Our engagement has yet to be announced," Arthur said, trying his best to look cavalier. “Make the most of the time between now and then.” The general helped the princess step down and crouched into a bow. “Until the next time we meet.”

Eloise watched the Lord’s fleeing figure, her body alight with questions for her future spouse and his sudden departure. Her questions soon answered as the object of her distraction stepped back into view.

“Eloise darling” Violet called, noticing her granddaughter left unattended, “do join us Collin here was just telling us of his newest book.”

“It’s a memoir of my time in Prussia.” The man explained as Eloise made way across the room, desperately trying to ignore the burning sensation that had settled upon the centre of her back. If a gaze could kill, Eloise was surely a prism with light penetrating directly through.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #violet bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #eloise x reader #eloise bridgerton x you #hocuspocusbabyy #kate sharma #Spotify

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