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roseykat · 1 year ago

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TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand.

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around.

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room.

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink.

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him.

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled.

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself.

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks.

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely.

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves.

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung.

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed.

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground.

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.”

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask.

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender.

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further.

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out.

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement.

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise.

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?”

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung.

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.”

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers.

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.”

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it.

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside.

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs.

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.”

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.”

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out.

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body.

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting.

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you.

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?”

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it.

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare.

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking.

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight.

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying.

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?”

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour.

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled.

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl.

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.”

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity.

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face.

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late.

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?”

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off.

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process.

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin.

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off.

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?”

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.”

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.”

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that.

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate.

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.”

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees.

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit.

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants.

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning.

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge.

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun.

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you.

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.”

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself.

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…”

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.”

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches.

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps.

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear.

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again.

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #Hyunjin x Jisung

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astralphobia · 6 months ago

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anyone else think of how terrifying sock opera must have been for mabel

when bipper’s looking down at her with that shit-eating grin, holding the rope?? Yk, that iconic scene??

Yeah, I can’t imagine how Mabel must have felt or how many nightmares sprung from that.

just. Imagine with me, okay? You’re twelve. You have a twin brother who’s been there for you your whole life, and always has your best interest at heart. He’s given up so much for you, and you’ve tried your best to help him in return, helping him solve mysteries and engaging in the things he enjoys with him. You don’t have to do that, but you do, because you want him to be happy.

And one day, something odd happens. He hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately, so maybe it’s just sleep deprivation! Maybe he’s just. ..Acting so oddly,, because he’s tired!

yeah. That’s it. At least he wants to help you with your crush for once, even if he wanted to focus on that laptop earlier. You feel kinda bad about ignoring it, but c’monnnn!! This guy is. So hot. You can’t help yourself! .. probably.

When you’re almost halfway through your attempt to impress this guy, this.. puppet you made starts floating, talking to you in the voice of your brother, telling you that he did something stupid (made a deal), and his body is currently being possessed by this triangle jerk you encountered earlier in the summer.

… kinda a lot to take in, but hey!! At least you know what was off now. .. wow, you’re kind of a bad sister for not noticing, huh?

anyways, he needs your help! But it could totally ruin your chances with this guy…. But that doesn’t matter, he needs your help. This only happened because you didn’t help him earlier, so you gotta help him now, right??

you rush to find the only thing that could possibly help you in this scenario. The journal.

And when you do find it, well..

even though you know that is not your brother, that’s a demon, possessing your brother’s body.. it still looks like him. And never have you felt such utter horror, such primal fear at the sight of a simple grin, ear. to. ear.

seeing him above you, standing on the catwalk makes you feel small, useless, insignificant.

and the expression on his face is one you hope you never see his facial features contort into again.

And he’s holding onto the rope that could mean the difference between life or death for you, the rope that is holding you and the wooden cake in the air. You’re lucky he caught it in the first place.

He could drop it any time he wants. Let go any time he wants. And he does, briefly, toying with you.

When your eyes widen and fear squeezes at your heart, he laughs at your pathetic, meaningless actions.

and even though you know it isn’t your brother. You know it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not, it’s not…

And yet. It sounds like him. His laugh. The little one he makes whenever you make a silly joke, or fall over dramatically, possibly at the expense of your dignity. The one you have heard so many times, usually just as innocent and sweet as the last. And now you hear it again, and even if it’s something else laughing through him,, you can’t help but hear it. Tainted with ill intent.

The day does get saved, however. Your brother gets back into his own body not too much later. And everything is back to normal!

….. but.

You can’t help but remember that moment whenever he smiles a bit too wide, or laughs a bit too hard.

You can’t help but stay awake at night, replaying that moment. Telling yourself that it wasn’t him.

And you still have nightmares about it, too. Where you don’t notice until it’s too late and that thing that looks and sounds like him but isn’t him is back and this time you’ve lost, you’ve lost, you’ve lost!

..you wish you were a better sister.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #astral yaps

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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Looked to the Sky - Chapter 14

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, I gave Kallias a random younger brother that is decisively not canon, Azriel has issues and a breakdown and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"We have an... unforeseen problem," Mor said as she burst into the dining room days later, coming too late for dinner, throwing a stack of letters on Rhys' place.

Azriel watched Rhys skim through them, a frown on his High Lord's face as he read through the documents, his eyes narrowing as he did. That, alone, had his irritation and tension rising.

Unforeseen was...not good. Unforeseen problems were almost never good. They were problems, and those didn't usually have nice or easy solutions.

Especially because Azriel didn't know about it

“Rhys?” Feyre asked carefully.

"Kalllias' younger brother Kleon is asking for Eira's hand in marriage," Rhys said drily.

Unforeseen problem indeed.

A wave of pure, unexpected and overpowering possessiveness suddenly washed over Azriel. The shadows around him darkened and writhed with the force of the reaction, and he had to forcibly suppress the noise that wanted to escape his throat as a growl.

It was...unexpected, uncontrollable. The possessive feeling coursed through him like wildfire.

His body ached with the need to get Eira, get her away. He...he wanted, needed, had to have...to keep her away from this...male. This male that wanted his mate.

His mate, his mind roared.

He could feel the shadows coiling around him, darker than usual in his anger and agitation.

Every instinct inside him was roaring, raging, the thought of Eira with that male...that male that wasn't him making him see red.

The very thought of that gods-damned Winter Court male taking his mate away from him …

"What?" Eira blurted out. "We talked about harps for 5 minutes!"

"Wow, that must have been a conversation," Cassian muttered under his breath.

Eira shot a glare at the winged male, but Cassian ignored it, too busy trying to suppress a smirk at the situation.

"Apparently a very engaging conversation,” Mor added, a faint smile on her lips.

"For Kleon, at least, apparently," Feyre added her tone just as drily as her friends had been.

“What does he even want?" Eira asked, her voice just as incredulous as he felt. "We spoke for moments. Minutes at most! And...and he wants to get married because of that?”

Azriel's heart jumped at the sound of the word married. Married. Married to someone that wasn't him.

Rhys sighed. "I am going to say something, you aren't going to like," he warned Eira quietly, waiting until she nodded. "There are multiple reasons. And Kleon was not the only male that was sniffing around you during that wedding. He was just the only one that dared to approach.

One of the first reasons...it's political in nature. Even if you married Kleon and not a High Lord, that would still forge bonds between two courts."

"Political," she echoed faintly, and even from where he was, Azriel could see the way her eyes darkened faintly.

Of course, it would forge political bonds. One sister married into Day Court, two others into Night…why not the fourth into Winter?

Eira’s jaw was clenched, her hands balling up into fists in her lap, and he could have sworn even the air around her was tense as if it was reacting to her emotions.

Azriel waited for lightning sparks to appear, but nothing did.

"It's not the only reason," Rhys added quietly, and his voice was still as painfully neutral as before.

Eira shot him a look, eyes narrowing faintly.

"Secondly...It's breeding potential," Rhys said, grimacing at his own words. "You are one of only 3 cauldron-made females. You have untapped potential. A strong-magical mother nearly always results in a child with a strong magical potential."

Breeding potential.

The words echoed through Azriel's mind and his heart dropped like a stone to his stomach at that moment.

The very thought of Eira having....the very thought of any other male than him even touching her...

It made his heart seize, and his mind scream.

“The third reason..." Rhys continued, his voice still painfully neutral.

Azriel knew what the third reason was, he already knew what it was going to be, but he couldn't bring himself to breathe.

"It's because you're beautiful," Rhys said quietly, and the words came out...more bluntly than he'd probably meant to.

For a moment, Eira said nothing, her eyes dropping to her lap. Something like surprise, or disbelief, or something flashed through her eyes before the hint of a bitter, sarcastic smile appeared on her face.

"I'm average," she said quietly, and her voice was...bitter, slightly defiant.

They could give themselves the fault for that bundle of self-esteem issues.

Mor snorted faintly. "Not for Kleon, clearly," she said, in a voice that was affectionate. "Apparently he spent 3 days waxing poetically about your virtues to both his brother, The High Lord, but also his sister-in-law, Viviane."

"Poetically" Eira echoed faintly, like she was having a hard time processing the words. "We spoke for minutes," she repeated, her voice incredulous, almost sounding like she was in shock.

"He has apparently been enamoured by you since the moment he saw you," Rhys said, and even with his neutral, level voice, it was impossible to miss the hint of amused disbelief. "He wrote 4 pages on your 'remarkable eyes' and 2 pages on your hair." He held up the pages filled with an elegant sprawling script.

Eira seemed to be at a loss for words, her words choked in her throat and her eyes wide. The look on her was something between shock and disbelief.

Azriel was torn between wanting to laugh out loud and hissing at the very idea.

Rhys shrugged. "He's clearly very serious about you. He's offering not just an engagement but also a betrothal if you would prefer that before an engagement. It would be a very old-fashioned way to go about it, but also very respectful. You would have all the power to put an end to it if he does anything you don’t like.”

Betrothal, engagement.

The very words made his heart jump into his throat and his shadows writhe in agitation.

He could sense Mor trying to look at him from the corner of her eye, but he couldn't bring himself to look back. He was too busy forcing the snarling, hissing thing down.

His mate.

The word echoed through his mind, louder and more powerful than before.

The very idea of that male wanting his mate, marrying his mate...

His heart was still lodged in his throat, pounding like a hammer against his ribcage with each beat as he struggled to keep his head clear and...and not just pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and then flee away with her.

But the mere idea of it made a small, bitter, almost twisted part of himself want to roar with the possessiveness that coursed through him.

It wanted to roar and scream in a possessive rage that this gods-damned Winter Court male couldn't have her. She was his. Eira was his mate.

It took every ounce of willpower and control he had to even keep his voice at least somewhat level as he said, "Are you... are you considering it?"

Eira's head snapped up as if she'd been struck, and she looked at him, her eyes locking with his.

There was a stunned look on her face. "I…" she stuttered, choking on the words. She hadn't been expecting the question.

“Kleon is a good male,” he forced out the words that tasted like ash on his tongue. “A courtier, not a warrior. He prefers music and poetry over weapons.” And wouldn’t that make him a perfect fit for Eira? For soft, sweet, gentle Eira who has cried inconsolably about the males she had killed? Who never wanted to be a weapon?

Eira's eyes were still on him, stunned, and he could sense the surprise and disbelief in her.

He could also sense the disbelief from the others, but his focus was completely on her.

What are you doing, Master? the shadows spat out. Did you hit your head?!

She has the right to choose. Even when it wasn’t him. Maybe especially if it wasn’t him.

If she would prefer a male that had taken one look at her and immediately realised the treasure that lay before him…and not a bumbling idiot like him who had spent years hurting her, carving out her heart with his own stupidity.

"Are you...?" Eira's voice was faint, almost stunned, and there was disbelief in her eyes and her tone at the thought of…his words. Her eyes were wide and bewildered as they looked at him. “Are you trying to talk me into marrying him?”

No.

His heart wrenched and his breath caught, and his mind was screaming at him for even for suggesting it.

But…but if she would be happier if she would have preferred someone different than him…he would have.

He should want her to be happy more than he wanted her, shouldn’t he?

“He’s a good male,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “You should have a choice.”

“A choice between my mate and a man I had one conversation about?” Eira snapped. “What is wrong with you?!” She demanded. “You are courting me and you think I would entertain the attention of another man?!”

She was furious.

It was in the way her voice sounded, and how she looked at him, in the way her expression was almost spitting fire.

It took a moment for his mind to wrap around her words before they suddenly hit him in full force and he felt his heart jump in his chest.

“You...you’re choosing?” he said quietly, and for a moment his heart was lodged in his throat. “You're choosing me?”

“I chose you the moment I accepted your intent to court me,” Eira snapped. He had never seen her angry like that before. Seemingly seething. “You know how insulting it is that you think I would do that?”

The realization, mixed with the anger in her voice and the insult on her face...it made his breath catch and his heart jumps in his throat.

There was a painful hope in his heart, as the realization hit him.

She…she wanted him.

Even after all his bumbling stupidity and the years of making her cry...she wanted him.

“Yeah, it is,” Nesta snapped. “You pretty much just called my sister a loose woman with questionable morals!”

Azriel’s head snapped over to the oldest Archeron sister, but Nesta held his gaze for a moment before she looked at Eira with a fierce, fiercely protective look on her face.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” he choked out.

“No? Then how did you mean it?” Eira asked him, unwilling to back down. “You think I would choose a male I had one conversation with over my mate? Why?”

"You could have a male that took one look at you and immediately saw the treasure that you are. You could have a High Lord's only brother, who likes poetry and music and who has not bathed his hands in the blood of thousands," he continued weakly. "A male that..."

As the words came tumbling out he could feel the disbelief and fury on her. It was there in her voice when she cut him off with a loud, firm:

"I do not want him."

She took a deep breath, her hands balled into fists, her eyes stormy and glittering with the anger and hurt inside of her.

"I want you." He stared at her. “Yes,” she said, her voice quiet now, but just as pained as her eyes. “I could have a male like that. And yet I choose you.”

He was silent, staring at her wordlessly; her words echoing through his mind, his heart hammering in his chest.

She wanted him.

She wanted him. Despite…despite all of his stupidities and all the hurt he’d caused her. Despite how...how badly he’d hurt her; how badly he knew he’d hurt her in the past. How many times he’d made her cry because of his stupidity…she stillwanted him.

He was staring at her, stunned into silence and unable to say anything, his emotions running wild in his mind and his heart.

There was a desperate, painful hope in his mind…but there was also an uncertain, hesitant, wary part of himself that couldn’t bring itself to believe it. That part of him that couldn’t believe that she would want him.

Eira’s eyes were still on his, wide and staring at him, and suddenly she looked...uncertain. Unsure.

A hint of doubt flashed across her face, and her voice...her voice was just as uncertain as her eyes when she spoke again.

“That’s…that’s still what you want, right?“

And the mere idea that she even needed to ask that had him snapping out of his stunned and speechless silence.

“Yes,” he said, and his own voice sounded strangled and ragged as he did. “Gods, yes.”

Yes, he...he wasn't even sure what he was doing as he slipped from his chair...as he ended on his knees in front of Eira...pressing his face into the soft pillow of her skirts, breathing in the scent of snowdrops and almonds and Eira...his mate.

His. His. His.

She wanted him. For some cauldron-forsaken reason, she was willing to give him another chance.

The scent of her...it filled his nose, the familiar, comforting scent of a crisp winter night, snowdrops and almonds, and he pressed his head against the soft skirt of her dress.

He was on his knees, burying his face against her, his hands grabbing at the fabric of her dress as if he didn’t want to let her go.

Eira gave a gasp of surprise at his suddenly dropping to his knees in front of her, a small, startled noise as the unexpected move had her jolting against the back of her chair. He couldn’t fight the desperate growl from his mouth.

Mate. Mine. My mate. My mate.

He…he didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve to have her in his life. Didn’t deserve to have her forgive him for the all ways he’d hurt her in the past.

He didn’t deserve her, he knew he didn’t.

He didn’t deserve her after what he had done; after everything he’d put her through by not realising...by his stupidity.

But gods, he wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything else. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted to breathe, or live.

He wanted her, every part of her. Every part of her body and mind and soul. He wanted every part of her in every way he could have her.

And she wanted him. She chose him.

Just like now her hand lifted and small fingers started running through his hair...as she touched him, with love and gentleness.

"What is the polite way to refuse?" Eira asked, her voice even. "I am not interested."

The sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers in his hair, her scent all around him…it all felt like a dream, like something that wasn’t real. Something he didn’t deserve.

He just…he just closed his eyes, letting the feel and sound of her envelope him, trying to commit it to memory.

"Well, we'll just tell him that," Mor said drily.

"Politely, of course," Feyre added.

Azriel could feel that the two females were looking at him, could feel the eyes of the others as well; as he knelt before Eira, his face pressed against her lap, his hand gripping her knee in a desperate, possessive grip.

The thought of someone else with her…with his mate...

His grip on her knee tightened, and his face stayed buried against her lap and her skirts, breathing in her scent, committing it to memory and letting her fingers run through his hair.

He felt her shift, and a moment later, her hand came to his face.

He didn’t move at her touch, keeping his face buried against her and refusing to come up, just breathing in her scent and letting her fingers stroke his face.

Her touches were so soft and gentle, that he could hardly believe it. After...after everything he’d done to her, all the ways he’d…he’d hurt her; he could hardly believe she was willing to touch him like this.

Eira’s fingers continued to stroke his face, tracing his cheekbone and his jaw and down to his neck, just…gently touching him and caressing him.

His heart clenched and his breath stuttered in his chest, his body going almost completely still as he just…he just let her touch him. Her touches left a trail of fire on his skin wherever her hands travelled, setting his entire nervous system ablaze and almost overwhelming him.

“Tell him I have a mate,” Eira said evenly, and he nearly shuddered at the claim in her voice.

Azriel had to fight the desperate, possessive sound that wanted to slip out of his mouth; the snarl of pure, desperate need, and pride, and desire at the claim.

His mate, she was his mate.

He still didn’t move, still didn’t look up, his face hidden against her skirts, but he was listening. Intently.

They were all silent for a moment, and he could practically hear the others look at each other.

Mor was the first to speak, and her voice was still amused, but with an undertone of something other.

“That…might not be enough,” she said, her voice quiet, cautious.

He could feel Eira’s eyes narrowing.

“And why not?” she snapped out, her voice a bit harsh. Her hand in his hair curled, and her fingers dug into his hair.

He didn’t even try to contain the quiet, strangled sound that tore itself from his mouth at the feel of the sudden grip on his hair and the possessive, almost territorial gesture.

“A male like Kleon might not see that as enough of a reason to back down,” Mor said carefully, and Azriel could practically hear her choosing her words.

He tensed instinctively, and the possessive grip his shadows had around his body suddenly grew tighter. "At least not until there is a ring on your finger."

There was a moment of stunned silence at Mor’s words, and Eira’s breath caught, and her hands stilled against his head.

“A…a ring…?” Her voice sounded dumbfounded and stunned.

Azriel did not like the quiet sound of Mor’s smirk as she said: “Traditionally, the sight of a ring on a woman’s finger is enough for even the most persistent suitor to accept her rejection.”

It took all his willpower and discipline for Azriel to not let the snarling sound that wanted to escape from his mouth.

He could feel the others’ eyes on Eira, all of them on her, and for a long moment he could hear nothing but her breath, harsh and uneven and fast, and his own.

Then he could hear her voice, quiet and rough and unsteady when she spoke.

“I…” He flinched at the sound of her swallowing. “I think Azriel and I need to have a talk."

He felt her push at his head, and he slowly relented, lifting his head away from her skirts.

He looked at her…and the sight of her wide, blue eyes staring back at him with such an open mixture of uncertainty, doubt, fear and hope made his heart clench.

"Let's go upstairs," she said softly.

Azriel was unable to say anything, he just nodded wordlessly and allowed her to push him back, silently taking her hand when she offered it and following her as she led him out of the dining room and up the staircase.

He hadn’t expected that, but then again he hadn’t exactly been in a place to expect anything in that moment, his mind too overwhelmed and terrified of screwing things up even more.

It was Eira who let go of his hand, crossing the room to perch on the edge of her bed, before she looked up at him silently, her hands clasped in her lap.

He didn’t move, feeling almost frozen in place as he saw her sitting there, perched on her bed and looking up at him with those wide, blue eyes.

His throat was dry and tight, and his heart was hammering in his chest, his mind racing through hundreds of possible things he could say and a thousand things he wanted to say.

So he did the only thing he could do...again.

He moved.

He crossed the room in quick, silent strides, closing the distance between them and kneeling before her.

***

Eira sucked in a sharp breath as Azriel knelt before her again, watching as a mix of emotions flickered over his face.

He had his eyes on her lap as she stared down at him, and the expression had her breath hitching, her heart clenching as he knelt before her.

His hands were clenched into fists on his thighs, his breathing ragged and laboured.

Before, he had buried his face into her lap. Without a word. Silent.

Now, he didn’t touch her, just...just knelt there, his body tense and muscles flexed to the point of shaking and his eyes trained on her lap.

His wings were tightly tucked into his back, not their usual relaxed posture, but tucked in so tightly, like he expected her to hurt him.

He was so tense, it looked almost painful. She could practically feel the anxiousness and the worry and all the things he was hiding rolling off him in waves.

She reached out before she could help herself, once again carding her finger through his hair, through the dark unruly waves.

The sound that left his mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a strangled whimper, and his body shuddered against her. His eyes fluttered, and he leaned almost unthinkingly into her touch.

Her mind was still a fucking mess, reeling. This wasn't exactly how she had ever expected to receive a proposal. Actually, it was the last way how she ever wanted it to happen.

She hadn’t even thought of it as a possibility.

"Talk to me," she whispered quietly. "Azriel."

His breath shuddered as she said his name, and she heard the strangled noise it drew from his throat, his shoulders tensing and his head dropping further, his eyes hiding from her as he leaned his forehead against the side of her knee.

Just the sight of him now, the feel of his hair beneath her fingers and the feel of his body shaking against her...it made her want to pull him closer, wrap her entire body around his.

She still had her hands in his hair, stroking and petting his head, and she wasn’t sure if she was doing it more to soothe him, or more to soothe herself.

"I am sorry," she apologised quietly when it was clear that he wasn't going to say anything. "I only danced with him to be polite."

His entire body went rigid at that, and the noise he made was strangled and desperate, and his shoulders trembled, shaking with whatever he was holding back.

“Don’t…don’t apologise,” he forced out, his voice rough and ragged, and his throat so thick she could almost see his jaw clenching. “You…you don’t need to apologise for…for anything.”

Her hands in his hair stilled instinctively; her breath caught, and her own body went still and tense.

The words were a strangled confession and a tortured desperate plea, and it made her heart ache.

Her fingers started moving again, resuming the soothing, gentle motions of her movements, and she could feel the way her touch, the way her gentleness affected him as the tension in his body lessened and he almost leaned into her.

"You deserve better than me," Azriel whispered.

Her breath hitched, and her eyes stung, and a mix of pain and anger and guilt surged through her.

“Don’t say that,” It was a firm, almost choked-out response, her fingers clenching in his hair.

“Don’t…” Her voice caught, and her chest felt too tight. “Don’t you dare say that.”

"You…you deserve so much better," he said, and she could hear the strangled, pained tone in his voice. “Anyone is better than me, and you…you don’t…don’t deserve to be stuck with me, I…I don’t deserve to be near you, to call myself your mate, let alone anything else…”

Her throat felt too tight, and there was an aching, desperate pain in her chest at his words, her heart clenching as she heard the self-deprecation, the guilt, the hate in his voice when he spoke.

She couldn’t let him think that, couldn’t. The thought that he hated himself that much, that he thought so little of himself…it was unbearable.

"Listen to me," Eira said quietly. "I chose you. I will always choose you. You are my mate. From the very first moment, I saw you, when I was still human...I knew that I was yours."

His entire body shuddered at her words, shuddering so hard that she could feel it, could feel the way his body quaked against her. The sound he made was a strangled, guttural noise, and it was something between a strangled whimper and a choked-back sob.

She could practically feel his body aching, strained. He was holding himself so taut, so tense as if he was trying to hold himself back. Her hands in his hair didn’t stop, trying to soothe him, trying to coax him into relaxing, trying to get him to respond to her.

“You…you’re beautiful,” she whispered, and his chest heaved, a ragged, shaky breath tearing from his throat at her words. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…and the kindest, strongest person I know. And yes, sometimes you are an idiot, but who isn’t? And I…” She took a deep breath, her fingers clenching in his hair. “I love you.”

He broke at that, his entire body trembling and shuddering as the first, strangled sob tore free from his throat, and it was a painful, broken, guttural sound that felt like it’d been torn from his very soul.

His entire body slumped against her, leaning his weight against her, as his shoulders shook and his hands twisted in her skirts.

Her heart ached at hearing his sob, and the sound of his pained tears filled her mind. Her hands in his hair clenched, her fingers still running through his hair as she felt him shudder and shake against her, his body trembling and his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned his entire body against her.

It was instinct that had her wrapping her own arms around him, her one hand going to his back and pulling him against her as he fell apart.

"I love you," she breathed, as she pressed kiss after kiss against his hair. "I love you. And I want to marry you. I want to marry you. And I want these fat rosy-cheeked babies with you, that you promised me. That have my hair and your wings. I want you. I don't care that you think that you aren't good enough for me. I think you are enough. And that's all that matters."

His whole body shuddered at her words. He was still crying, still shaking, as he pressed his face against her, breathing in the scent of her.

“You…you want…you want that? With me?”

“Of course I do,” she breathed, as she kept stroking his hair, her hands never stopping their gentle, soothing stroking of his head. “You’re my mate, and I’m yours, and I love you…and I want everything with you; a family, and a home, and just you. Just you for the rest of our lives.”

“You…you want me?” His voice was ragged and raw, hoarse from his tears and the crying. “You…you don’t…don’t want someone…better?”

“No,” she said firmly, as she continued to stroke his hair. “You’re my mate. You’re the person I want, the one I choose. And there isn’t anyone better, because it’s you I’m in love with. And it’s only you.”

Her words were met with a ragged, strangled-sounding noise from him, and she could feel the way his body shuddered again, his shoulders shaking as he trembled against her.

He didn’t speak again, and she heard him inhale, his arms holding her tighter against him; the low, ragged, deep breaths he was taking trying to calm himself, trying to gather himself.

"I love you," he whispered.

She felt her chest clench, her heart aching, with how raw and broken his voice sounded, and she could hear the anguish and the pain and the disbelief in it.

And her heart soared, as she heard the words she had spent years yearning after.

“I love you,” she repeated, her voice just as ragged and raw as his. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

His arms clenched around her, his head pressing against her stomach and his body shuddering against her yet again, and it sounded like he was struggling to breathe as he gasped in another deep, shaky breath.

“I…I love you,” he said, again, and his voice was shaky and broken again, like he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. “And…and I don’t…don’t deserve you, and I…I want…want you to stay. I…I need you to stay.”

Her hands never stopped petting his hair, never stopped stroking and petting him comfortingly, as she heard the desperation and desperation and hope in his voice.

“I’m here,” she said softly, her words gentle and firm at the same time. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. I promise."

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, like that, with him on the floor and leaning against her, her hands in his hair and his head against her stomach while his arms held onto her as if he was scared she’d try to leave.

But the sobs had stopped, and the tears had dried on his face, and his breathing had slowed to a much calmer but still ragged and unsteady pace, his body still trembling, but at least not shaking anymore.

He lifted his head from her lap and looked at her with wonder in his gaze. He reached out...hesitantly and she slipped her hand into his. "Marry me," he whispered.

This time it was her breath that hitched, a shuddering, shuddering sound, and her chest felt so tight it was hard to breathe.

It was an instinct to say yes, to respond instantly to his quiet, quiet words. But her mouth wouldn’t move, her brain not working enough to formulate a response.

She wasn’t sure if it was out of disbelief, or shock, or joy, but the words she couldn’t speak were obvious in her eyes as she stared into his.

He was staring at her, his eyes locked on hers, searching her face and her expression intently, as if he was expecting her to say something, or do something, his entire body taut and tense again as he watched her.

She couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t move except for the hand he held, the one that tightened around his, the one that held onto him tightly. As if to keep him there, to keep him from thinking she was going to reject him.

His entire body was trembling again, shaking in anticipation, in hope, in desperation and need, as he searched her.

All she wanted to do was to pull him closer to her, pull him into her.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

There was a strangled noise from him, as his expression broke, his eyes going soft and intense.

“Yes?” he breathed, and her chest ached at how hopeful, desperate, and broken he sounded. “You…you said yes?”

He was staring at her, his eyes wild with disbelief and hope and a desperate need that was almost like a physical ache that she could see.

“I said yes,” she repeated, her words as firm as they’d been the first time. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

A shudder went through his body at her words, a strangled noise tearing from his throat, and he practically lunged towards her, his arms wrapping around her and hauling her against him.

It was desperate, almost desperate, the way his entire body clenched around hers. It wasn’t a hug, nor was it an embrace…it was a claim.

His arms were like bands of steel around her, holding her tight against him, his body pressing against hers so much she was practically on his lap, while one hand tangled in her hair and the other gripped her waist.

He was holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and she felt his breath shudder against her neck, felt the way his entire body trembled as he practically shook around her.

It was as if every part of him was trying to press himself against her; like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between them.

His hands were clenched in her hair and on her waist, his head pressed against her throat, and she could practically feel his need to get closer, closer than physically possible.

She was practically sitting in his lap, pressed against him so hard that her body ached. The feeling of his body, of his hands on her, was almost overwhelming.

But it felt right, needed, like it was something they’d been missing before; an absence filled.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could practically hear him in her mind, the desperate, shattered words that echoed in her mind in a way it hadn’t done before.

Mine. He hadn’t said it, but it was so obvious in the desperate, possessive way he held her, in the way his hands clenched in her hair and on her body, and the way he’d practically crushed her against him. You’re mine.

“Yours,” she said softly, whispering the words against his skin. “I’m yours, always.”

"You deserved better," he whispered. "I was supposed to find you a ring...and a house."

She could feel the way he was clutching onto her, as if he couldn’t bear to let go, even now that he knew she wasn’t going to reject him.

“I don’t care,” she said firmly, as she clutched his shirt and held his face against her neck. “None of that matters. I just want you. It could have been a paper ring for all I care.”

He choked out a laugh, "You haven't even gotten that," he told her drily.

She smiled at his words, but her expression was still so soft.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” she said simply, as she threaded her fingers through his hair; gently, soothingly, still stroking the dark strands. “Everything else is just…” she shook her head slightly. “Everything else can wait. All I want is you .”

He kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered shut instinctively as his lips found hers, and a shudder went through her at the feeling of his lips against hers.

She pushed her fingers tighter through his hair, the other clenching in his shirt as she kissed him back with a sort of desperation that mirrored his.

His lips moved against hers, the hand burying into her hair holding her in place.

She gasped and that was all the invitation he needed as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She didn’t…she had no idea what…why…but she couldn’t think anyway. She could just cling to him tighter, heat pooling low in her belly.

She felt like she was losing her mind, the feeling of him in her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers and mapping her mouth, made her feel like her entire world had slowed.

Her body ached against his, her hands clenching in his hair and his shirt. She hadn’t realized she’d been making a noise, a low, breathless sound at his relentless kisses.

He was practically cradling her against him, his arms wrapping around her body in a way that made her feel safe against him. She didn’t feel like she had the control over herself to even move, as if her body was his for the taking.

She’d honestly never felt more safe, more wanted, than she did right then.

His mouth was insistent against hers, insistent and demanding, and the way he was holding her made her feel as if he was trying to consume her. It made it hard to breathe, the way he was kissing her…like it wasn’t a want, but a need, and she was the only thing that could satisfy it.

And then he pulled back, a kiss pressed against her lips once again. "You need a ring," he whispered against her skin.

She was still trembling slightly, her eyes fluttering open and her breath coming out as a shuddering sort of gasp. Her head was still spinning, the after-effects of his kiss still making it hard to breathe.

Her eyes were still hazy, and her mind still struggling to process what he’d said. “…a ring…?” she repeated, and her voice was soft and breathless…and her words sounded almost dreamy.

A Ring, the shadows whispered. After Master already ruined our plans...

She had to bite her lip, a soft laugh bubbling to her mouth at the sound of the shadows’ voices, the sound almost giddy at the prospect of an impending ring.

“You mean...” she said slowly, her voice still slightly breathless and a smile on her face. “You were planning on getting me a ring…?

"And a house. I was supposed to show you that I could provide for you and our future children," Azriel said softly, cupping her cheek. "That's how humans do it, is it not?"

She shook her head, a tender smile on her lips, as she stared up at him. “You don’t need to give me anything, Azriel. I just need you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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taylormarieee · 8 months ago

Text

Dollar bills and love Billionaire!Miguel O'Hara

🎶I'ma take her bougie ass to Rodeo and then let her pick up whatever she want. CC, Gucci, hit Bottega, whatever she want She piss me off, somehow she still get whatever she want🎶

Summary: You were bratty all day, no matter what Miguel tried to do, take you shopping, buy you food, he even bought you puppies, you were still bratty so he decided maybe fucking it out of you would do the trick.

Pairing: Husband!Billionaire!Miguel x Fem!Entrepreneur!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, annoyed Miguel, bratty reader, PiV sex, oral(f), rough sex, mentions of arguing, Miguel being considerate, Miguel being slightly mean, degrading kink, praise kink, pussy whipped Miggy, mentions of height difference (reader is 5'7 Miguel is a 6'9 kingggg!), established relationship(there married), kinda angst/sadness, animal awareness(please be kind to animals, there so precious and adorable, especially puppies.)

A/N: I'm in the writing mood lol, ENJOY!

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Miguel was the best husband you honestly could ever ask for. He was kind and so loving and caring. He was the opposite of what you thought about him when you first saw him.

You own your own business called Size Flows. It's a business for making clothes for plus sized people. Many plus sized people don't get to have clothes like that.

They have to fit in clothes that don't define their curves and beauty properly because the clothes are made for skinnier people. So one day when you decided to throw a party for the celebration of your business being a success you didn't expect much.

Yes, you did send flyers out but you didn't think they were going to reach the higher-higher staff and people in the world. So when famous billionaires and Multi-billionaires and millionaires started showing up into your building, you were shocked,

One of those billionaires happened to be, Lord and Behold, Miguel O'Hara. You were intimidated by him for quite some time at the party. He was tall! That was a fact. He also looked annoyed and mean.

Not really engaging in a lot of conversation like the others did. I mean yeah, the party was at night but it wasn't that late and the party didn't go on for too long so people didn't start getting bored of each other in there.

Eventually you decided to make conversation with him because why not (though you did notice most people cowered and scurried away from him when walking by). So when you arrived at his feet it took about 3 looks to finally meet his eyesight.

He was staring down at you with a tight lipped smile and you looked at him with a wide, happy, inviting one. Your signature smile at most, as that's what your assistant Alexandria says.

"Hello! You must be Miguel! I've heard a lot about you and your work and I must say, I'm intrigued to know just a little at how your mind works.

Miguel had a completely different company from yours, obviously. Yours was about clothes, he built his own museum. It was about like history and about Aerodynamics. The museum was impressive and it was large. I'm talking like, really LARGE!

You honestly couldn't help yourself. You visited the museum about 13 times. A couple with your friends who were into that stuff and like twice with your family and other times with your co-workers who wanted to go on their lunch break. You introduced yourself by saying your name or at least trying to before he cut you off.

"I'm very pleased to meet you Miguel, my name is-" you start off.

"I know who you are hermosa. I've seen your face on the cameras at my museum every time you go." He says.

Your eyes widen. You were so shocked by the cameras bit you didn't even register the intimate name he gave you. 'He's in charge of the cameras. And he's seen me over and over again!?' you thought in shock.

"Your honestly probably one of my most frequent visitors besides a bunch of college boys." he says with a polite smile on his face that makes you feel the need to laugh. He chuckles and laughs with you.

"wow, so you're frequent with the cameras huh?" you ask in a playful tone. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Yea, if you say so. I like to make sure my museum is safe and the guests are happy." he responds with a seriousness in his tone.

"Well, I mean coming from number one guest, I must say... I'm extremely happy every time I see the front of the building. Just so eager to go inside."

He laughs again and for the first time, you see a twinkle in his eyes. You guys talk for the rest of the night to the point you're the only two left in the building.

He kindly walks you to your car, which you were forever grateful for and that night ended and more frequent ones with him in it began until you two finally got married.

You were more happy in your life now than you have ever been before. You have the hottest man in the world to wake up to every morning and to say goodnight to every night.

That was three years ago and now, your here dragging Miguel everywhere, looking and searching for stuff you don't need.

Miguel was pissed at you because you were being a bit bratty today. You weren't satisfied and you constantly gave him attitude and sass. He was slowly loosing his patience and his temper the more and more bratty you got.

It got to the point he yelled at you and told you to get in the car both of you arguing for a good 20 minutes on why you were being so bratty and why he was being so annoying and grumpy.

He took you to a pet store. He bought you a tiny little bedazzled blue collar and then told you, "Pick." he said just standing in front of the dog pen with a bunch of puppies running around your legs.

"w-what?" you ask quietly, some forms of your attitude gone. "Pick. One." he says sternly with his jaw clenched. You feel slight fear but get filled with excitement when you see the two puppies you've been wanting forever!

A Corgi and a Yorkshire terrier! They were the cutest puppies to you, well that's a lie, you wanted every puppy in this store but it's not that Miguel wouldn't buy them all, it's the responsibility and care you have to have for them.

The hours you work make it difficult to buy every single one. "Miggy," you start, batting your eyelashes at him, "Can I get them all?" you ask.

There were like 15 dogs in here and you wanted every single one. "mami, no. You can get 2." he negotiates. You pout and your bratty attitude comes back.

"no! I want them all! If not then how about like 8?" you argue the amount with him. He rolls his eyes, once filled with sincerity and love now filled with anger and annoyance.

He usually wasn't annoyed with you when you got like this sometimes but he had a really bad day a work and you arguing with him didn't make it any better.

"No, two. No more negotiating mama." he says as calmly as he can because the last thing he wanted was you flinching and crying at his temper and how scary he got.

He did that once and the last time he did it, you didn't utter a proper word to him face to face for a month. He made you so scared and for a second when he raised his hand you flinched.

You genuinely thought he was going to hit you. He immediately stopped raising his voice at you after that. You allow it sometimes when you're arguing but you don't raise your voice at him that much because you know his temper and his patience.

"ok, how about 4? is that ok??!" you ask with those puppy dog eyes and that cute little pout he loves to see in different circumstances if you know what I mean.

"ok mama, and that's it." You get 4 collars for their genders one pink, one red, one green, and one violet. You got a Dachshund, a Yorkshire terrier, and a French bulldog and a Shih Tzu.

-The Dachshund was a boy and you named him lucky. (he got the red collar.)

-The Shih Tzu was a girl and you named her princess. (she obvi got the pink collar)

-The French bulldog was also a girl and you named her cleo. (she got the purple collar)

-The Yorkshire terrier was the last you chose and he was a boy and you named him stripe. (the name is because he was black and had a brown stripe on his face and he obvi got the green collar)

"That'll be $1,375 sir. And would you like to donate to charity for dogs in need?" she asks with a smile on her face.

"Ok, and yes I would like to donate!" Miguel responds with a smile on his face matching hers.

"Oooo! No Miguel! Can I do it instead? Oh, please hermoso, lemme do it!" you beg you wanted to be part of that cause.

"Ok hermosa, go ahead but lemme pay for the doggy bowls and the food and all the beds and everything else ok?"

"Miguel that means i'll have to buy something! Leave the doggy bowls out, I'll buy them because you'll have to press decline." You explain to him.

"No, I'll pay some to charity and then you pay some." He says smiling glad that your attitude is over.

"If you both don't mind me asking, how much are you donating? I run the charity and I'm just curious." The lady who you now know her name to be Sam, asks.

"Oh I'm paying 500,000 dollars." Miguel says nonchalantly like it's nothing. Her mouth drops.

"And i'm paying 600,000." I add with a smile on my face. Miguel dips his head back down at me and narrows his eyes like it's a competetion.

"Never mind 700,000." he says eyeing me up and down.

"800,000"

"900,000"

"1,000,000" I say finally winning.

"I'll pay 900,00 Sam." Miguel says smiling at her. The lady is crying now and you rush over to hug her.

"Oh poor thing. I have just as much love for dogs as you do. My dog died a couple weeks ago and i've been dying for a new one. That's why we're here so i'm glad we were able to help." You reassure her hugging her.

She mutters a sorry for your loss as she's fighting back tears and you smile feeling tears run down you face as well. Animals were such a big part of life and they brought so many people happiness.

To see the way so many people mistreat animals really crushes your heart. You both pay and walk away with happy smiles and 4 happy puppies with a new home.

You wave to the other employees as they finally realize who you and Miguel were. They asked for pictures and hugs. You gave that to them and then bid them a farewell.

"Thank you Miguel, I really needed this." You say with more tears in your eyes. His face softens and he hugs you and kisses your head. "It's ok baby. I have one more surprise for you at home." He says with a smirk on his face.

You decided to be a tease. The entire car ride you acted bratty and all mad because he wouldn't let you get all the puppies.

You knew exactly what the surprise was so that's why you acted like this. The surprise was sex, you knew it was. That smirk he had on his face in the pet store showed it. He was horny and now frustrated so that only meant one thing...

ROUGH SEX! You loved rough sex with Miguel so much. He would always degrade you and then praise you. He was just so bipolar during sex but whenever you made him real mad and pushed his limits like you are right now,

It always led to hateful, angry sex, well maybe not hateful but really angry, rough sex.

"Get out." He says through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Your eye's go wide still keeping up with the act. "No Miguel! This conversation isn't over." You say stubbornly sitting in your seat.

"Fine. Then I'm getting out and I'm going to feed the dogs you're neglecting right now." He says with an eyebrow raised and a shrug.

You gasp and cross your arms over your chest. Your body and the car slightly shakes with Miguels slam to the door.

"what a jerk." You mutter under your breath but sometimes you forget your husband has super hearing and you also have a trunk, that happened to be open...

SMUT INCOMING: MDNI!!!!!

"Hmm love? What was that? Oh. I'm a jerk? mhmm mami, I'll show you a jerk." He says in that sultry smooth voice that had your knees buckling, every. single. time.

You let out a sigh as you watch him go into the house( aka a big ass mansion.) You wait until he goes fully inside. He closes the door but you still wait a little just for good measure.

When you walk in, something pushes you against the wall and Miguels lips are instantly on you roughly. You whimper and he grips your throat.

Your hand rushes to his hand around your throat and he growls biting your bottom lip, drawing it back before letting it spring back to it's original place.

His grip on your neck only tightens as he pushes his crotch against you. He flips you around roughly and your face and front part of your body hits the wall hard, his hand still on your neck.

You moan at the feeling of his crotch pressed against your ass now. "You wanted me to be a jerk right? Your so fucking ungrateful baby but damn are you beautiful." he growls in your ear, clearly fed up with your bratty attitude.

"Guess daddy is gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you huh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres, puta sucia?" He asks you. You loved when he dirty talked to you in spanish, it turned you on so much.

"Mhmm, want you to fuck it outta me papi." you say in return, your voice low and seductive. He grins against your neck before biting it roughly. causing you to. cry. out.

He licks over the bite and you whimper, your legs clenching to find some sort of friction. "Nuh uh mamacita, no trying to please your self. Spread em open baby." He says in a soft voice he didn't have a second ago.

You hesitantly oblige and spread your legs. "Good girl, look at that, mi niña bonita es tan buena para mí." he says proudly.

you smile to yourself before he's picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

"Miggy, i-i'm sorry, I won't be bratty again! I promise." You beg him with pleading eyes when he rests you in the bedroom, on top of the bed as he slowly climbs on top of you.

"No. Don't do that. That's what you said last week, and last month. Every time you beg, I have mercy on you and let it slide, not today baby. Me lo tomarás como una buena chica, ¿verdad?"

"Yes daddy, I'll take it like a good girl for you! I promise, i'm sorry."you respond. His hand trails up. and down your body agonizingly slow and it's making you anxious and needy.

"mhm, daddy, can you fuck me now, please?" you beg. He looks at you and shakes his head.

"No, mi amor. Shut up, and maybe I will." He says roughly. Your eyes start to tear up, not from his words but from his actions.

I mean, I guess you deserve it but he didn't have to be this slow. You stay quiet for the next 20 minutes? you don't even know anymore cuz you lost count.

He finally dips his head, kissing down your stomach, your clothes long gone. He finally reaches where you want him. His warm tongue flat against your soaking cunt.

You let out a relieved sigh, "mhmm thank you thank you thank you miggy." you chant out breathlessly.

his tongue dips inside of you and that alone has you winded. Your breathing his ragged and your hands immediately flying to his hair as you tug on it.

"What'd I say, hmm love? shut up or I stop." He says sternly, your cunt now feeling empty without his tongue. He licked and sucked and prodded at your entrance multiple times.

Soon making you come undone. Your legs closed around his head and you cried out as he licked up every single drop you had, not letting any at all go to waste.

Once he stood back up and met your teary eyes, he smiled. Not a genuine, happy smile, no. It was this smirk that he made when he knew he won, when he knew that he had your little mind wrapped around his finger.

He begins moving the belt to his pants and all you hear is a grunt. You don't even register his cock slipping and sliding through your slick folds.

"Joder mi amor, te sientes tan apretado a mi alrededor." he moans out as he slides his cock into your entrance. You feel so tight around him. Like virgin tight.

"Gonna beat this pussy real nice baby, No quiero que camines por el resto del fin de semana. No walking at all mama." He whimpers when your walls clench around him.

He's pounding now. First it was small, slow thrusts to ease you into it but your pussy is just too addicting. Miguel was so lost in your pussy, he doesn't even realize how hard he's pounding in to you.

His pace unrelenting, even after he made you cum for a second time. Your pussy feeling overstimulated and sore but Miguel is too entranced to care, constantly muttering out cure words and how good you feel wrapped around him.

You felt your orgasm coming as your walls fluttered around him again. He groaned at the feeling and roughly thrusted into you yet again.

"This pussy is all mine, such a fucking brat. Now look who's a mess over my cock hmm hermosa? Mierda, eres una jodida puta para mí, cariño." he says aggressively, enunciating his words with his thrusts.

You scream out and chant Miguels name over and over again while your orgasm rushes through you. you claw at his back and pull on his hair. You've left little tiny crescent shapes in his biceps.

He finally cums inside you at the same time and he releases this animalistic, primal groan and you shudder at the sound. You moan when you feel his hot warm load burst inside you.

"Fuck Miguel." you pant out before sleep over comes you. You were so weak and so tired.

It's a little later in the night, 12:32 to be exact. You look at the clock and then look behind you to find a sleep Miguel with his arm under your head and the other keeping you close resting on your stomach.

You turn until your face is in his chest. You had Miguels shirt on and underwear. He's so sweet, he must've cleaned you up when you passed out.

Your hands run through his hair lightly and you smile at his resting face. You kiss his face, then his nose, then his lips and the his neck.

You loved everything about Miguel and you hope he knows it. How tall he was compared to you, how he had such a sweet soul behind that mean facade. Everything about him was drop-dead gorgeous.

If you had the option to relive one memory with Miguel, It would be the first time you met him. So kind and such a gentlemen.

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sansaorgana · 5 months ago

Note

what if benny heard his girl’s friend telling her about how she deserves better. he then notices his gf distancing herself from him because she starts having doubts about their relationship, and he’s not about to let her go that easily

hello 💚 thank you for your request! it turned out to be quite long (nearly 4,5k words) 😌 Benny & Reader are kinda toxic here lol 🤣 but in the movie he was such a red flag sometimes and his relationship with Kathy wasn't that healthy either, so I felt like exploring that trope. it has a happy ending, though! 💒

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

Whenever you were out with your friends, Benny was a big part of your conversations. They were either single or they dated boring men and you couldn’t help but brag a little to them about taming a man like Benny Cross.

Of course, sometimes you were jealous of the stability your friends had. But with Benny it was never boring and you had never had so many wild stories to tell before meeting him. You wore one of his rings proudly and with as much pride you had the Vandals Chicago small patch on your jeans jacket.

And today was no different – you arrived at Molly's place a little bit late by the bus but Benny was supposed to pick you up later. You fixed your hair and your jacket before getting inside the apartment building after some older lady who was walking inside. She looked you up and down and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the patch or the leather pants but you didn’t care either way. You were only wearing trousers these days because sitting in the back of the bike in a skirt or a dress was far from comfortable.

You knocked upon Molly’s door and she opened with a smile but you couldn’t help but notice that the way she looked at you was similar to the old lady’s gaze. And when you walked to the living room and waved at your other friends, they suddenly went quiet, which only meant one thing – they had been talking about you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Barbara greeted you. “Has your boyfriend dropped you off?”

You furrowed your brows at her oddly mocking tone as other girls tried to hide a giggle.

“Hi, Barbs. No, he hasn’t,” you answered, pretending you hadn’t caught the rude undertone of her question. You sat on the armchair because you didn’t want to sit next to them on the couch.

Molly sat back there, right next to Ursula. On Barbara’s other side sat Susie.

“So, how’s life? What’s up?” You asked as usual, tapping your fingers on the wooden armrest of the armchair.

You hadn’t seen them in two months and they were your friends since high school. You were naturally interested in hearing their stories.

“Well, I got engaged!” Ursula announced and showed you the ring. Your eyes widened and you gave her a smile.

“Wow, ‘sula, that’s crazy. Congratulations, babe,” you winked at her. “That ring must have cost a fortune!”

“It certainly has. But you know, Dickie’s in the finance,” she reminded you but there was something contemptuous in her voice.

“I remember,” you only nodded. “When’s the wedding?”

“In July, we think,” Ursula answered. “I’m currently dress hunting. I was in the store the other day with the girls and…” She started and then she stopped talking as the other hissed at her.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, what?” You raised an eyebrow. “You guys are seeing each other without me?” You swallowed thickly and waited for their answer.

It made sense, suddenly. Because you had used to meet every two weeks. But some time ago they had started to come with excuses that they were too busy to meet so often. Now the meetings were taking place once every two months. But… Perhaps it was this way only for you.

The girls looked at each other.

“Oh, please, (Y/N), it was only once,” Barbara quickly spoke up. “You were busy that day anyway. We knew about it so we didn’t even ask you.”

“How did you know I was busy?” You asked.

“We read in the paper that there had been a motorbike accident in the area. We assumed you were at the hospital,” Ursula explained and you nearly snorted at her stupid lie.

She was always the worst at coming up with lies on the go.

“This accident had nothing to do with Benny or anyone in our club for that matter,” you told her although you were sure there had been no accident even.

“Well, we thought…” Ursula started.

“Our club, huh?” Susie suddenly giggled. She was usually the quiet one but it made her pretty observant and she would always pick on the words.

You cracked a smile at that.

“Are you learnin’ how to drive a motorbike now? Is he gettin’ you one as well?” Molly teased.

“No,” you answered. “Anyway…” You tried to change the subject. “July is in three months. I gotta start hunting for a dress for the occasion, too. Is there a dress code?” You asked Ursula.

Ursula looked down and started to fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

“Actually…” Barbara took a deep breath in. “Ursula would like to tell you something but she’s scared…”

“So… We will do it for her,” Molly nodded.

You already knew what it was about and you tried your best to keep your smile on although all you wanted to was to cry.

Not even because you were losing the friendship of these girls – they were clearly treating you like shit anyway – but because it all felt so… humiliating. As if you were the village’s outcast all of the sudden. A local pariah.

“I’m not invited?” You crossed your arms.

“No! It’s not like that!” Ursula protested as she looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s… It’s about Benny. I don’t want him at my wedding. So… If you want to come, you are welcome to come alone,” she finished.

“Well, I’ll see if I can come. In July we are going for vacation anyway. The dates might interfere,” you explained with a shrug of your arms. That was a lie.

“Vacation? With Benny? Where?” Susie seemed to be interested now.

“A trip to Florida where his cousin lives,” you explained. At least that part about his cousin was true.

“Florida… Nice…” Barbara sighed and Molly pushed her with her elbow.

For the rest of the meeting, you were silent. Nodding your head at the things the girls were saying and faking laughs here and there, already coming up with the lies to tell them when they’d ask about you but… They never asked.

When they were in the middle of talking about some stupid movie, you all got startled at the sudden sound of the loud engine. All the girls gave you a dirty look as you chuckled.

“Sorry,” you put your hands up in the air. “It’s Benny. I gotta go now. It was nice to catch up with you,” you stood up and waved at them before going to the hall.

You didn’t feel like hugging them or anything like that. You just wanted to be out of the flat.

However, Molly followed you.

“I’ll walk you outside,” she proposed and you furrowed your brows at her but you nodded. She was your closest friend out of them all.

You took the lift downstairs and walked out of the apartment building. Benny’s motorbike was parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. He was leaning on it and smoking a cigarette.

“Wanna say hello to him?” You asked Molly, squinting your eyes at the sun as you put your hand over your forehead to create a shadow.

“Nah, I’m fine, babe,” Molly shook her head and put her hands inside the pockets of her cardigan. “But, you know, I gotta tell you something…” She continued to walk in the direction of Benny’s motorbike but her steps were small as her voice lowered.

“What is it?”

“You know I like you, (Y/N). I don’t like what’s happened to us. I mean, our friend’s group. You know why and what… Who is the reason,” Molly cleared her throat. “You’ve changed, too.”

“Shouldn’t it matter that I’m happy?” You asked her.

“But… Are you? Darling, is there any future in that?” She glanced at Benny who was observing you carefully but you were sure he was standing too far away to hear the whispers. “I just think you deserve better. We all do. Think about that, will you, doll?” Molly patted your arm before squeezing it in a friendly way and waving at you.

She turned around to hurry back inside the building right before the distance was close enough to greet Benny. It looked like she was avoiding him on purpose and she wasn’t even hiding that. It was rude.

You sighed and turned around to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hi, daddy-o. Sorry for making you wait,” you winked at him playfully. “Where are you takin’ me tonight?” You fixed his jacket and kissed his lips when he was not taking a drag of his cigarette.

“There’s a bonfire,” Benny mumbled out. “Hop on,” he pointed at the motorbike.

Benny’s hearing was not perfect after all the years of getting slaughtered by the roaring sound of the motorbikes’ engines. But he was an excellent lip reader – it was one of those useful skills he had learnt over the years. Benny was not a man of many words and he usually preferred to observe the environment around him. Reading lips was helpful for that.

You had been standing with your back turned to him so he had no idea what you had been answering to your friend’s words but he knew perfectly well what that girl had been saying. And then she had just looked him up and down and turned around, without even saying hi. Not that he cared to get a hi from a girl like her. And not that he wasn’t used to people treating him this way.

Still, it had planted an insecurity in his head. And now, during the bonfire, you were acting weird, too.

The sun was slowly going down on that day and a huge bonfire had been lit up. One of the guys had taken their radio and played rock and roll songs. There was lots of beer and a small barbecue and everything smelled like alcohol, sweat, meat and gasoline. After having a few beers, lots of boys were showing off their motorbike tricks, including jumping over the fire. The atmosphere was full of testosterone but most girls didn’t mind that. To date a biker, you had to be used to that. Constant risk, constant danger, constant adrenaline. You were sitting by the bonfire and watching the motorbike tricks as you were sipping on your diet coke through the straw. Benny was smoking a cigarette by one of the cars while he talked to his friends but he kept his eye on his girl and he knew you well enough to see that while the other girls were gossiping next to you, you didn't really pay attention as you were clearly dissociating.

When he finished his cigarette, he walked up to you and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket to make you stand up and follow him inside the house but you shrugged him off and looked away. Benny furrowed his brows but he didn’t give up.

“(Y/N), baby, come on,” he whined a little.

“Gee, Benny,” you rolled your eyes before looking up. “Can’t you see I’m talking to the girls?” You pointed out but the girls looked at you; confused at your words since you had been doing nothing but ignoring them for the past hour.

“I wanna talk to ya,” Benny insisted and you sighed.

“Excuse me, darlings,” you told the girls and put your empty bottle of soda on the ground before standing up and facing Benny.

You followed him in the direction of the house but instead of walking inside, Benny guided you to walk behind, where there was no one around.

“What is it?” You raised your eyebrow at him as you leaned on the wall behind you.

“I’m just wonderin’ why you’re acting like that,” Benny scratched himself behind his neck.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Benny repeated and shrugged his arms. “Dunno, as if I have done somethin’ wrong. Have I?”

“No,” you answered but the answer was very fast and nearly harsh. “No…” You repeated and took a deep breath in as your face softened. “I’m just… That meeting with my friends was weird and I’m overthinkin’ some stuff. That’s it,” you explained. “‘sula’s getting married, you know?” You looked down and played with your foot, drawing circles on the ground with your boot.

Benny’s heart skipped a beat at the word married.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to look into your eyes but you kept your gaze low.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “However, I ain’t invited,” you turned your head to look away as you crossed your arms.

“What? Why?” Benny furrowed his brow. He couldn’t understand that. He thought that you were pretty close to those girls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered and looked into his eyes. “I was thinkin’... Maybe we could go to Florida in July? To your cousin? I need a vacation, Benny.”

“Florida’s far away,” Benny shook his head. “The guys need me here.”

“Only for a short time…”

“Nah,” Benny insisted. “We can have a weekend by the lake if ya want to.”

“No,” you sighed. “Listen, I’m tired today, ‘kay?”

“‘kay,” Benny nodded awkwardly and hid his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

Benny hoped that your odd behaviour would change on the next day but it did not. In the morning he didn’t find you in bed and when he walked downstairs, you were already dressed up and drinking coffee by the kitchen window.

“You up already?” He asked, surprised. “Workin’ today?”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep,” you told him without looking at him.

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked and looked around the kitchen.

“I had pancakes. You can have whatever you want,” you pointed out and he was a bit taken aback by that response.

Not that he minded making breakfast for himself but you had always been doing it for him ever since he moved to your place.

“Are you angry at me, kitty?” Benny asked, carefully, as he approached the fridge to take a look inside to see what he could eat.

He decided on scrambled eggs as he grabbed a few from the fridge. He put some butter on the pan and heated it up but there was still no answer from you.

“Kitty?” He cleared his throat and turned his head around to look at you.

You took one last sip of your coffee and stood up with a sigh. You put the coffee cup inside the sink and walked past him.

“I’m going to spend a day with my ma,” you told him.

“With your ma?” Benny furrowed his brows. He didn’t like it when you were going to your mum.

Not because he had something against you spending time with your family. But he knew that your mum absolutely hated his guts and she was begging you to dump him each time you were seeing her. For you to meet with her today – a day after your friend had told you that you deserved better… Well, it was not looking good for Benny.

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you told him and then you left the kitchen. A few seconds later, he heard the front door closing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself.

It was late afternoon, nearly evening already, when you came back home. Now, after the meeting with your mum, your head was full of doubts and insecurities about your relationship.

You loved Benny but was it possible that this relationship was really a doomed affair? All your friends were leaving you behind and treating you like your Vandals patch was a scarlet letter. Your mother was begging you all the time to leave Benny behind because he was “no good for you, baby”. It was annoying but she had every reason to be worried – Benny was trouble. He cost you a lot of money, too, when it came to the lawyers, hospitals and the bills. He didn’t even have a steady job. And all of that for what…? There was not even a ring on your fucking finger.

He would drive around all day and then get drunk at the bonfires. That was all he wanted to do. Was he even treating you seriously? Was he planning to settle down with you? That was doubtful.

You walked inside the house and closed the door loudly behind you before going to the bathroom to wash your hands. Then you took a deep sigh at the sight of your tired face in the mirror and you went inside the living room where Benny was watching TV. He looked up at you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his baby blue eyes that looked extremely sad.

“Hi, baby. Had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah. You?” You kept standing above him.

“Not really,” Benny admitted. “But, hey, it doesn’t matter, yeah? I called my cousin,” he told you and you raised an eyebrow. “I asked him if we could visit him in July and he said that it’s fine.”

Benny swallowed thickly and waited for your response, staring up at you like a puppy. You took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at him with a sigh before sitting next to him on the couch.

“What you watchin’?” You asked him.

“Some stupid movie,” he shrugged. “You happy about Florida?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

But just because he had done something like this once, it didn’t mean that everything was suddenly okay.

“You haven’t worn your jacket with the patch today,” Benny pointed out awkwardly.

“My ma would kill me!” You chuckled at that with an eye-roll.

Long silence occurred after that. You were both staring at the TV and only pretending to watch the movie. Eventually, Benny moved in closer and put his arm around you. You flinched a little bit but you didn’t move away as your eyes filled with tears.

You loved him. You wanted this relationship to work but... Sometimes love was not enough. Especially when only one person was putting effort.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough for ya, baby,” Benny whispered into your ear and you froze at his words. He kissed your cheek delicately and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m tryin’ my best,” he assured you. “But your friend was right. You deserve better.”

“Benny? What are you talking about? You heard Molly?” You turned your head around and lifted his chin to look up at you.

“Nah. I can read from the lips,” he shrugged and your heart pounded faster in your chest. “Don’t worry, I ain’t angry at ya. She was right. I’m just angry at her for making you realise that.”

You clenched your jaw, not knowing what to say. Somehow, you wanted to comfort him but… There were some things you wanted to say first.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just this way,” you caressed his cheek gently. “I don’t think you’re not enough. Maybe it’s me asking for too much. I knew who you were and what you were like when I took you in. I should have known what to expect,” you shrugged. “You’re just…” Your voice trembled and Benny furrowed his brows at you. “You’re just gonna drive away one day, right?”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head.

“You’re a free spirit, Benny. You’re just gonna hop on the bike and disappear and I’ll be left with the mess to clean and the pieces to pick up. And I was trying not to get too attached but I have. And in return… In return you can’t even make me breakfast. Not even once!” You suddenly snapped as his eyes widened. “I wake up in the morning and make you breakfast every day. I go to work and earn money… Just to spend it later on some shitty lawyers after you get arrested, feeling guilty that I can’t afford a better one. Jesus, and now I can’t even go to my friend’s wedding just because she doesn’t want you there and, guess what, I don’t want to go there alone!” You raised your voice but then you sniffled your tears back and softened again. “I just… I just wish I knew that you were as serious about me as I am about you. That’s it.”

Benny moved uncomfortably and moved his arm away from your shoulder. He took a deep breath in and nodded his head.

“Ya think I’m just gonna drive away one day and leave you without a word?” He asked. “I mean… Yeah, I might. Because I’m clearly a burden. I’m gonna leave, that’s gonna be for the better,” he agreed with you but you could see his jaw clenching and eyes blinking away the fresh tears.

“I didn’t say that you were a burden, Benny,” you tried to explain but he stood up already and went up the stairs.

You followed him and you caught him packing his bag in your bedroom. You leaned on the doorframe and watched him.

“You can’t be serious, Benny. Why can’t we just have a normal conversation about it instead of you running away from the responsibility? You’re kinda provin’ my point at the moment, you know that?” You told him.

“Don’t wanna be a burden,” he insisted and you took a deep breath in before approaching him.

You put your hands on his arms and he flinched a little but he didn’t push you off. However, he kept on packing his things.

“Benny, baby, please, let’s just talk about it, okay?” You tried to talk to him in a soft voice as if he was a wild animal.

In many ways, he was.

“I even called my cousin an’ all that!” He suddenly turned around to look into your eyes. He was visibly angry but at the same time his eyes were glossy. “You wanted a fuckin’ vacation in Florida, so I called and got us a fuckin’ vacation,” he added.

“And I am grateful, baby, I am,” you assured him and placed your hands on his chest. You felt how fast his heart was beating and you caressed him there as if you were trying to soothe his heartbeat itself. “But that’s just… That’s like one time when you show me you’re treatin’ me serious.”

“I’m not treatin’ you serious enough, you say, huh?” Benny straightened his back and looked down at you. “But if I asked you to marry me, you wouldn’t say yes, right? ‘Cuz I ain’t no good enough, am I right?”

You were taken aback by those words. You blinked a few times, very slowly.

“Wha-what are you talking about, Benny?” You tilted your head.

“I wanna make you my wife,” he answered, seriously. “Wanted you as my Mrs. ever since I saw ya,” he confessed. “But I ain’t good enough…” He shook his head and looked away. “And I’ll never be for ya.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as well. You bit on your lower lip and focused hard on overthinking his words. Suddenly, all your insecurities and doubts had disappeared. Your whole body was filled with butterflies.

Gee, yeah, he was… Different from the most. But he was special, too. And he was your Benny. You would never trade him for a man like Patrick for example – Ursula’s fiancé in finance. You would die of boredom with a guy like him. With Benny even those arguments that you were having with him were exciting. The way he was packing his bags or you were threatening to leave every other day, the way you were smashing plates sometimes, the way a phone call from the police station would wake you up in the middle of the night... It was making you feel alive.

“Oh, Benny!” You felt tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks and he looked at you again, confused. “Yes!” You jumped into his arms and he picked you up instinctively. “Yes, yes, yes!” You added and cupped his face to pepper it with dozens of tiny little kisses. “I’m gonna marry you, baby! Even tomorrow! Even now!”

Benny chuckled at that and kissed your lips properly as you put your hands behind his neck.

“So, you just wanted a ring, my moody kitty, huh?” He teased playfully and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

You arrived at Molly’s place and knocked upon the door, fixing your jeans jacket. She opened the door and invited you in as usual.

It was a month since your last meeting with the girls. They looked you up and down as usual these days but then they furrowed their brows at the sight of your huge grin. Molly entered the living room behind you and took a seat on the couch, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“I have something to tell you,” you told them with a smug smile.

They looked at each other.

“You dumped him?” Barbara asked, excitedly.

“He knocked you up?” Molly, on the other hand, was rather scared.

“Don’t be daft. She wouldn’t be so happy then!” Susie pointed out. Clever as usual.

“I got married!” You exclaimed and showed them your hand with two new additions. A pretty engagement ring that you had chosen for yourself in the pawn shop and a brand new wedding band.

You watched with satisfaction how their mouths dropped. Ursula especially seemed to be butthurt, since you had managed to get married before her.

“And how’s dress hunting, ‘sula?” You teased her.

“I still don’t have a dress,” she admitted. You could see her jaw clenching. “And what were you wearing?”

“A short babydoll,” you answered and sat on the armchair nonchalantly.

“Why haven’t you told us?!” Molly asked and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“Sorry, but… I don’t know how to say it… Benny and the other guys from the club…” You pretended to sound sad. “Well, they didn’t want you girls around, I hope you understand. No outsiders, you know,” you told them.

It was a lie, of course. None of them would have minded your friends coming. But the wedding had taken place a day after your argument with Benny anyway. There had been no time to send out invitations.

“That’s crazy,” Susie commented and you gave her a smug look.

“Gonna tell you somethin’ crazier,” you chuckled and she raised her eyebrows, curiously. “He got my name tatted right on his heart.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*benny #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #lilysfiction

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ckret2 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 52 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: the Pines get their hands on a book that, they hope, might explain Bill's entire history.

And Ford, Dipper, and Mabel debate the ethics of executing a wanna-be tyrant who recently saved their lives.

"Hey, hey you with the inner eye! How'd your show go, inner eye?"

"Did you read anybody's mind?"

"Did you get next week's lottery numbers?"

"Yeah! Did you predict when anyone's gonna die?"

Brag one time about identifying somebody's cancer and nobody lets it go for years. As the triangle stuffed his bookbag in his locker, he tried to ignore the square and rectangle laughing at him down the hall. Every time he missed a few days of school so his parents could haul him to a speaking engagement several states away, he got this when he got back. They knew he couldn't read minds and they knew he couldn't tell the future. They didn't care; they just wanted to make him mad. If he tried to correct them, they'd just laugh at him for caring about what they said.

"How come your inner eye's on the outside, inner eye?"

"Yeah, shouldn't it be in your stomach?"

"Can you see the ghosts from in there?"

He slammed his locker and turned toward the square leading the harassment. "You know what, I did have a vision at the show," he shouted. "I saw who your real dad is! Hey, did you mom ever get that mutt fixed?"

He didn't need to tell the future to know he'd better run for it. He bolted for class.

He'd missed the last three days of school so he could wow the crowds by telling them what was in their pockets, while his parents talked about cleansing negative energy from their spirits or some junk like that; and he'd come back just in time for a history test he hadn't studied for.

He wasn't worried. He was sitting behind the smartest line in class. On test days, the teacher set up cardboard barriers between everybody's desks to prevent them from reading each other's tests, and he took it on faith that this worked on the other students; but for his own part, the barriers were so thin that sometimes he walked into them without noticing they were there. He just looked straight past them as if they didn't exist. He had a clear view of the smart line's test.

As he bolted for his classroom, he could see through the walls that the line was already in there, talking to the teacher. He slowed down his mad dash before reaching the doorway and came in at a stroll, just in time to hear her quietly say to the teacher, "Just for this test, can I switch seats? I don't want to sit by..." She trailed off when she caught the triangle coming in; she and the teacher both stared.

He stared back, irritation flaring up, and snapped defensively, "What?" What did she care if he copied her test? It didn't cost her anything and it didn't make her do any extra work. Wasn't it considerate to help a fellow classmate out? Why should she be selfish about her test?

The square and rectangle tumbled into the room, advanced on the triangle, saw the teacher watching, and shoved past him to get to their own seats. They glared at him as they passed, but didn't say anything. Yeah, that's right, look who got the final word in.

To the line, the teacher quietly said, "Don't worry about it, just get ready for the test." She raised her voice. "All right, settle down, everyone at your desks. Put your notes away. This is a long test, so we're starting immediately." Several students grumbled in dismay.

The triangle couldn't be more delighted. The teacher didn't believe in psychic abilities—to his benefit, since so far it had let him get away with copying other students with impunity—but she also didn't like him. He'd been sure that she'd agree to let the smart line switch seats to get away with him. But apparently she'd rather dismiss the class pet than admit that maybe it was possible for him to psychically cheat. He smugly headed for his desk, ready for the easiest test of the class.

The teacher put a hand on his arm before he could pass her. "Not you," she said. "Get your stuff from your desk, you'll be taking the test at the front of the class. At my desk."

"What!" He whirled to stare at her indignantly. "Why?!" (The rest of the class fell silent. He could feel a dozen eyes on his base.)

"Because, your last few test scores have been... unusual. I want to keep my eye on you—"

"Unusual how! My grades have been great! You should be thrilled I'm keeping up with my absences!"

"Your test grades haven't been consistent with your classroom performance," she said tersely.

The other students started to titter. His sides flushed in humiliation.

His classroom performance was abysmal. He never finished his homework (he rarely started his homework), he never had an answer when he was called on in class and usually substituted with something sarcastic that'd at least make the other kids laugh, he never did the readings, and he wasn't even sure which town he'd lost his history textbook in. Studying was boring! He had better things to do! He was a busy guy! (And why bother, when he wasn't any good at it anyway.)

"What, you think I'm too stupid to make A's?!" He planted his fists on his corners. "If I'm cheating, how!" She had the privacy walls between students on test days, she'd searched his desk twice, and during the last test she'd passed behind him like a dozen times as he filled out the answers. Sarcastically, he asked, "Am I psychically reading the other students' minds? Maybe looking at their tests through the walls with my laser vision?"

The class giggled again, but at least this time it was with him. Everyone in the school knew about his family's traveling show and the performances he put on. And everyone in class knew that the teacher thought his family's shows were scams and that he was a fraud, and she'd made that clear from the first week. The other kids believed in his abilities. He'd been in class with most of them since they started school, and his default reaction to being called a liar about his abilities had always been to do something to prove them wrong—and he'd kept doing that even after he realized that telling kids what they were hiding in their bags only creeped them out.

But it didn't matter if all the kids believed. As long as the teacher didn't, he could get away with anything—and everyone else in class knew he was making a fool of her.

She narrowed her eye. "That's enough. Just get your pen and come to the front."

"This is stupid! You can't prove I've done anything wrong!"

"I'm not going to fight with you."

"You just hate my family, you don't have any proof I—"

"Get. Your. Pen. Or you'll be taking your test in the office."

He shot her a dark look; but stormed to his desk, snatched up his pen, and returned to the front. Times like this, he really did wish he had laser vision. He could, just, grow a laser gun out of his eye, shoot her in half...

As he passed the teacher, he muttered under his breath, "I'm telling my mom," but apparently not quietly enough, because the square who'd been bothering him all morning announced, "Hey, he's gonna tell his mommy!" and half the class laughed.

"Behave," the teacher snapped; then said tiredly to the triangle, "You can tell anybody you want, just—take your test."

Sure, she said that now. She didn't know what his mom was like when she thought her golden child was being mistreated. He'd go home whining and moaning about how unfair his teacher was, and tomorrow morning his mom would be in the front office ripping into the principal over the terrible teacher slandering and humiliating her perfect little triangle. And she was shrill. The whole hallway would hear it. Wielding his mom was a double-edged sword (or maybe double-edged whip would be a more apt metaphor): the other kids would make fun of him for weeks; but he'd definitely get what he wanted. Either his teacher would shape up, or he'd get a new teacher.

Assuming he did convince his mom he was being mistreated. His confidence waned as he waited at the teacher's desk for her to finish passing tests out to the rest of the students. What if calling in his mom backfired? What if his teacher graded his test tonight? What if his mom got there in the morning and the teacher could show her that he'd gotten almost perfect grades on his other tests, but flunked the one where he'd been forced to sit at the teacher's desk? The teacher didn't believe he could see through walls, but his mom sure did—and he wasn't sure whether she'd care that he'd cheated, but she'd sure care if they could prove that he'd cheated and make her look bad. But now that he'd said he'd tell his mom, he'd look like an even bigger loser if he didn't...

The teacher set his test on her desk last. He filled out his name and stared miserably at the first question. Who was the first triangular president. How was he supposed to know? There'd been like, seven. It was a multiple choice question; he looked at the options to see if any names sounded old-timey, concluded they all sounded old-timey, and sighed in frustration. Now what? He'd heard a kid say once that if you didn't know what to guess, you should always guess C. Would he get enough right answers to pass...?

He let his all-seeing gaze drift past the test to snoop through the teacher's desk—sheets of stickers he'd never earn, eye drops, coupons to a movie theater, spicy novel... and then stopped in wonder. She'd left the answer key to the test inside her desk. Every answer, right there. This would be the easiest test he'd ever taken!

As the teacher watched in increasing frustration, he cheerfully highlighted answer after answer, pausing between each question to read a couple paragraphs from the novel in her desk to make it look like he was actually thinking.

The line at the top of the class and a couple other kids had turned in their tests by the time the triangle had finished his performance. With a flourish, he turned and presented his test to the teacher still standing behind him. "Well?" He gave her his most innocent look. "So how'd I do?" He'd almost asked her, so how'd I do it?

She glowered at him, seething; but simply took his paper and snapped, "Go back to your desk."

"Whatever you say!" Cheerfully, he sauntered back to his desk. As he passed Miss Perfect Grades, he said quietly—but not so quietly the other nearby kids couldn't hear—"You got question 7 wrong, idiot." She groaned.

Nobody would get the best of him. He was making it through this class with flying colors. Maybe the teacher was right, maybe he was stupid—but he certainly wasn't a loser.

####

As soon as he'd dressed, Dipper ran downstairs to get the phone book in Soos's office and call the library. This was it. He was rested, his schedule was free, and he was ready to read. Today, he was buckling down and reading Flatworld. He was gonna crack Bill's secret history wide open—and on top of that he'd get a leg up on a year of math, and he'd learn something big about Bill before Mabel.

Which he felt guilty for being excited about; but he figured it wasn't wrong to want to be the better twin at paranormal investigation, right? That was his whole thing. Anyway, Mabel might be grateful for it—she'd seemed annoyed at the prospect of reading a hundred year old book on math; maybe he could summarize the important parts for her, it was just like when he'd help her study for big tests...

The librarian on the phone said, "Flatworld by Edward Bishop Bishop? Sorry, our only copy is checked out."

There went Dipper's plans for the day. "When's it due back?"

"In twenty days. Do you want to put it on hold?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Dipper hung up. The Gravity Falls Library let you check out a book for twenty-one days; so somebody had grabbed Flatworld yesterday. Who else would want it?

####

Absolutely aghast, Mabel cried, "They banned colors?!"

Bill and Abuelita, sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast, stared at her. Mabel was standing in the doorway, still in her pajamas, hair unbrushed, bags under her eyes, distraught. Bill said, "What?"

"On Flatworld!" Mabel dragged her hands down her face in distress. "They made colors ILLEGAL?! It's ILLEGAL to have COLORS?! That's as bad as—as—I can't actually think of anything as bad as banning colors!"

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Oh, you're reading Flatworld!"

"Bill, you've been through so much!" Mabel grabbed his shoulders. "What a traumatic childhood!"

"Mabel."

"No wonder you turned evil, I'd be evil if I grew up without coloring books—"

"Mabel. Kid."

"What!"

"Colors weren't illegal," Bill said.

Mabel paused. "They weren't?"

"They weren't. I was even born gold. I drew my house, remember? You saw the rose bushes?"

"Oh." Mabel thought about that. She planted her hands on her hips. "Then I take it back, you've got no excuse for being evil!"

"I'm devastated."

"What is Flatworld?" Abuelita asked politely.

"Book inspired by my home world," Bill muttered. "Loosely."

Abuelita nodded, puzzled. "¿Pero tú no eras del infierno?"

Bill laughed. "¡Puede ser!"

Mabel asked, "So if colors weren't banned, why did the book say they were?"

"Ahh, Eddie was a writer." Bill shrugged and turned back to his breakfast. "He took some creative liberties to make the story more exciting. He wasn't writing a history textbook."

"Which parts are true?"

Bill gave her a sly sideways glance. "Which parts pardon me from being evil?"

Mabel blew a raspberry.

In the entryway, Dipper said, "Mabel? You checked out Flatworld?"

She jogged over to him. "Yes! Augh, Dipper, you've gotta read it after me! There's some crazy bonkers stuff in here!"

"Yeah," Dipper said, mildly deflated, "sure. When did you pick it up?"

"Yesterday! I biked to the library after Bill fell asleep. I had to find out what it said. Did you realize we don't know anything about where Bill came from? I don't even know if he had dirt."

Bill had avoided looking at Mabel as she talked to Dipper, focused on eating, mouth set in a flat line; but without glancing over, he said dismissively, "Sure, of course we had dirt. It was cheap to import."

Mabel turned back to Dipper, her eyes bugging out. "He had to import dirt. I didn't know that!"

"Okay, I get the picture."

"Here!" She dragged Dipper into the living room.

Bill looked at Abuelita. "Ask how cheap it was to import dirt."

"No."

"It was dirt cheap. Ha!"

Abuelita shook her head.

Mabel picked up the book from the end table by the sofa bed. Out of range of the kitchen, she whispered, "All that talk about the Axolotl and prophecies just kept bugging me until I read the book. I stayed up half the night! I thought maybe it'd help us remember more of the poem."

"Did it work?"

"Not yet. But I think I feel something percolating in my brain! It's coming, I know it." She pushed the book into Dipper's hands. "We've gotta talk as soon as you read it."

It was a much smaller book than Dipper had anticipated; a cover about the size of a paperback novel, but it was only as thick as one of those easy chapter books for new readers that Dipper had started devouring in second grade. Even if the text was dense, it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to read.

"By the way, who put me back in my bed?" Mabel asked.

"Oh. Bill d—" The hairs on the back of Dipper's arms stood on end as he realized something he'd been too tired to notice last night. "Bill did."

"Aww, that's sweet of him," Mabel said.

"But Mabel," Dipper hissed. "I don't know how he got through the bedroom door."

####

Ford shut his journal and turned his desk chair to face the children. This was serious enough to warrant his full attention. "You're sure you didn't prop the door open last night?"

"Positive," Dipper said. "We talked about it. We decided it would be safer if Bill was stuck in one spot and had to ask to leave."

"The doorknob's been busted since the tooth fairy broke in," Mabel said. "Maybe Bill just pushed it open?"

Ford said, "Under the terms of the curse, he shouldn't even be able to do that much. It's supposed to magically prevent him from remembering or imagining any way to get through a door." Still, he made a mental note to ask Soos to repair the door as soon as possible. They ought to at least remove the possibility that Bill might have found a loophole.

"Could the curse be wearing off?" Dipper asked. "Maybe you just need to do it again?"

"This isn't a curse that should wear off. It was originally designed to keep hidden treasures guarded for a thousand years—and as far as I know, the only way to remove it is for the person who placed it to lift it," Ford said. "If Bill's getting through doors, either he knows a way to break the spell that he never told me, or he's found a way around the spell. Both mean bad news. For all we know, he might already be able to get through any door and is just pretending he can't."

Dipper thought back to the pitiful performance he'd seen in the bathroom. "I... don't think he's faking." Unless that wasjust a big act? Bill flung himself down staircases and stuck forks in his arms for fun; what was stopping him from writing on the walls in his own blood?

"Well, he can get through at least one door." Ford got to his feet and began pacing up and down the length of his study. "On top of that, by now he's revealed he can see through walls, see the future, see in the dark, and see who knows what else in other dimensions... He's trying to befriend Wendy, he's already befriended—" he cast a guilty look at Mabel, "... one of us, and I suspect he's getting into Stan's head... He has a standing weekly appointment to network with the mayor, the sheriff, and the deputy... He could be up to almost anything by now. I'm afraid he's right on the verge of slipping through our fingers. If only we could get that blasted fuel! We need to destroy him before he finds a way to escape for good—"

"Wait," Mabel said. That alone was enough to make Ford flinch. "Didn't he just save you guys' lives yesterday?"

Dipper winced, but Ford didn't seem surprised that Mabel knew; he just averted his gaze and sighed. "I know. And I'm..." he wrestled with his words until he reluctantly conceded, "grateful that he did. But even so—"

"Grunkle Ford! How can you still hate him after that?!"

Ford pressed his lips together to avoid saying pretty easily. "It's not about hatred, Mabel. It's an issue of the greater good."

"The gr—pbbbt!" Mabel blew a raspberry and flung her arms in the air. "Come on!"

Dipper said, "Grunkle Ford's right. Even if Bill isn't just trying to manipulate us somehow... if he had a chance, he'd still take over the world."

"Exactly," Ford said. "Two lives isn't a sufficient down payment to let him purchase the rest of our reality. We must put the safety of the universe first, and... put our consciences second."

Mabel looked between them in disbelief. "It's not a down payment, it's—it's progress. It means he's changing for the better! Guys, you don't know what the world he came from is like!" She pointed at the book Dipper was carrying. "Of course he's evil after how he grew up! Maybe he just needs some people to be nice to him and he'll learn to be nice back!"

"He grew up more than a trillion years ago," Ford said. "That's over seventy times longer than our entire universe has existed. He's had plenty of chances to outgrow his upbringing. I'm sure somebody's been kind to him in that time." He'd been kind to Bill.

"Then why is he being nicer now? First he was nice to me, now he's been nice to you two—if he keeps getting nicer to more and more people..."

Ford shook his head. "He could be nice to the whole world and it wouldn't mean he's any different."

"How do you know?!"

"How often does he talk to you about his plans for Weirdmageddon?"

Mabel fell silent, thinking uncomfortably about all the times he'd freely told her what boring animals he planned to upgrade once he'd conquered the world, or which fun places he wanted to destroy with his alien friends, or which laws of physics and spacetime he planned to change. She thought about all the times he'd expressed his gratitude by swearing to shed blood or rearrange stars on her behalf.

"He doesn't see befriending his future victims as a conflict of interests. So why wouldn't he start Weirdmageddon again?" Ford asked. "He doesn't feel remorse over a single thing he's done."

Mabel thought about Bill offering to put back the stolen ring at the mall.

Dipper thought about Mabel's Fault.

But did that really prove he felt remorse?

"But—doesn't he ever get a chance?" Mabel's voice was thick. "How do you know if he'll be selfish next time if you don't let him try? He can do better, I know it! He just needs a chance to prove it!" She looked pleadingly at Ford, then at Dipper. "What if he could be good this time? What if he could help?"

Dipper had to avert his gaze. "If we were talking about shoplifting or vandalism, yeah, but... if we give him a chance and he lets us down, it's the end of the world. We can't risk that."

Ford knew Bill would be just as selfish this time, because Ford knew Bill. Because Ford had heard, throughout the multiverse, on world after exploited world, just how selfish Bill had been for billions and billions of years. Because as far as Bill was concerned, he didn't have any reason to change outside of the fear of death—and fear never made anybody better. But Ford said, "His second chance is whatever he can do between now and whenever we find or make a fuel that will let us destroy him. But once we can..."

Mabel's face scrunched up as she fought not to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut, crossed her arms, and lowered her head.

"Mabel..." Dipper reached for her shoulder.

She shook him off and shook her head; but she said, voice muffled by the collar of her sweater, "I know. You're right. He's too dangerous." She sniffled.

"I'm sorry," Ford said.

"It—it's fine." She wiped her eyes and turned away. "I'm gonna get breakfast."

"Mabel, wait," Ford said. "You... know not to mention any of this conversation to Bill, right? Even if you want to help him, it might just make him pretend to be better long enough to fool us—or escape entirely, if he's found a way how yet..."

She turned to give him a teary-eyed frown; but she said, "I won't. I promise." She got into the elevator to head upstairs.

Ford sighed and sank back down into his chair. Should he have done more to keep her from Bill? Used his summer guardian privileges to ban her from talking to him, and dealt with the relationship fallout? What he and Stan really should have done was just send the kids home. He'd thought this would all be over weeks before now.

He didn't think Mabel would betray them for Bill. He hoped not.

But this was going to break her heart.

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper said. "About the fuel we need to power the Quantum Destabilizer..."

Ford sighed. "The impossible-to-synthesize paradox fuel?"

"Actually... I think I have an idea."

####

In order to generate NowUSeeitNowUDontium, Fiddleford had said, they needed a paradox: someone to simultaneously both observe but not think about and think about but not observe the miniature particle accelerator as the experiment was run. Fiddleford had tried to cheat by using a pair of twins, hoping they'd be similar enough that they could still generate Dontium, albeit at a much slower rate; but to no avail. Which left them at a road block. How could one person both observe and not observe and think about and not think about the experiment at the same time?

Dipper thought he might have found away.

Bill had made a comment last night that stuck with Dipper, about how his body stared at nothing while he was outside it. (He'd called him "stupid looking." That was the real reason it had stuck with Dipper.) Would that meet the criteria of the paradox? A body that was looking at the experiment, but not thinking; and then if his soul was thinking about it but not looking...

Ford thought it was worth a shot. He could call Fiddleford and propose it. "As long as you're sure you want to try?" he asked Dipper. "You only just figured out you've been slipping out of your body—and too long a separation without anything occupying your body might kill you. And who knows if there's more risks we don't know about yet?" Ford put a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "We can still look for other possibilities first. You don't need to be a hero."

Dipper scowled. All he could think of was Bill capturing Ford, laughing at him as he turned him into a statue, burning up his journals in front of Dipper's eyes: Don't be a hero, kid. This is what happens to heroes in my world!

"I'm going to do it," Dipper said. "And we should do it now. Before I lose my nerve."

Ford frowned. "I'm serious, Dipper. If you're afraid—"

"I didn't mean that," Dipper said. "I mean—about Bill. He did just..."

"Ah," Ford said. "Yes. There's that."

It had been easier to treat the issue like it was black and white when Mabel was in the room—when she saw it all in black and they needed to balance out her perspective with white. But when she was gone, and the muddled shades of gray crept in like fog?

Dipper could still see Bill gloating as he kidnapped his great uncle and burned the journals; but at the same time, he could also see Bill angrily muttering under his breath as he delicately reeled in Dipper's body by a thread, and then rushing to the cliff's edge to drag Ford to safety. Safety of the universe aside—it felt wrong to plot to kill the guy who'd just saved them.

After an uncomfortable silence, Ford said, "But it doesn't change anything else he's done."

"Yeah," Dipper said, "it doesn't change anything." All the same, his stomach twisted with guilt. He wondered if Ford's did too.

Ford sighed heavily. "I'll call Fiddleford."

####

Fiddleford was wary about trying a new strategy, although for different reasons: he didn't want to change their method to create Dontium before he'd spent several days calculating how the new variables would affect the experiment. But desperate times... He agreed they needed to do whatever they could before Bill found a way to escape.

Dipper went upstairs to grab his backpack. He didn't even unpack all his camping equipment; he just shoved in his journal and Flatworld, and headed back downstairs.

Meanwhile, Ford tracked down Soos in between tour groups to ask him to fix the kids' door.

To Ford's surprise, Soos looked uncomfortable at the request. "Dude, are you sure that's... y'know... necessary?"

"Even if Bill weren't a threat, it would need to be fixed sooner or later, wouldn't it? I can help when we get home if it will take too much of your time." Or maybe Stan could help, he didn't seem too busy; last Ford had seen, he was hunting through the house for a missing remote control.

"It's not that." Soos fiddled with his hands uncertainly. "It's just, I know Mabel and Bill have been getting along really well lately, and I think that's probably a good sign for Bill; and I thought, if Bill can use their door, maybe Mabel would like it if Bill can visit her a little easier?"

Ford stared at Soos, bewildered. He'd expected this out of Mabel, but Soos? "And I think Dipper would like it if he couldn't."

"True," Soos conceded.

"Not to mention ensuring he can't sneak in during the night, or snoop when they aren't home..."

"Okay, okay. You're right." Soos sighed. "I'll fix it after work."

"Thank you."

A tourist family came in, and Soos went to greet them; Ford watched him a moment. Where had that come from? Soos rarely interacted with Bill; if anything, Bill seemed to steer away from Soos, and certainly never had anything kind to say to him when they did interact.

Maybe the pet geodite had won him over. Ford shook his head and returned to the living room.

Dipper was waiting on the couch, adjusting the straps of his overstuffed backpack. Ford glanced in on Mabel having breakfast by herself in the kitchen, picking at a waffle, lost in thought; but they left without saying anything to her.

####

(Took two weeks to get the next few chapters cleaned up, but finally here it is! Hope y'all enjoyed—and we'll be hearing a lot more about what's in that book next week.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 month ago

Text

Dune: Prophecy episode 1 thoughts, tried to keep it vague to avoid major spoilers:

Wow there is a lot of exposition. Like a LOT of exposition, especially in the first 10-15 minutes when we're not invested in any of the characters yet. I hope this is a first episode problem.

Ah they went the coward's route and used "Great Machine War" instead of "Butlerian Jihad."

There's an interesting "history is written by the victors" thread there right from the beginning that I hope they pull on some more.

I love how they did the Voice, which appears early in the episode, because both the actor's performance and the sound design of it are slightly different from the films. It really feels/sounds like the character using it is straining to access a new and unfamiliar power, in contrast to the effortless, overwhelming assertion of control it comes across as in the films.

Salusa Secundus looks so green and lush in comparison to how it looks at the time of the films.

I realize this is probably an unfair complaint for something made on a TV budget (even an HBO TV budget), but imo the production design doesn't quite measure up to the films. I think the best work is on the props. The key to the genetic index room, the little slides that Valya and Tula are looking at with students' info on them, the Emperor's projection table--those all look great and have that feeling of "future filtered through the past" that I think is key to the Dune aesthetic. Many of the location exteriors are gorgeous, too. Some of the interior sets are quite striking and others are underwhelming. The costumes are...mid imo; there are some beautiful elements and others that look too identifiably modern. Including Princess Ynez's red gown unfortunately which looks like a department store prom dress. I realize it's a high bar--the films were really really good at making everything look both futuristic and ancient, layered and textured--but you do notice the difference.

So! Many! Women! Pretty racially diverse casting too. But also omg so many characters and I already forget half their names. I'm gonna need Dune: Facebook for the next episode.

Emily Watson and Olivia Williams are already very compelling, even if you don't quite know their characters' full agendas yet. Heckin ready for some Machiavellian women scheming.

Love some of the more fucked up shit that just slides by and the information it gives you about the world. Adult (? idk maybe she's supposed to be in her late teens) woman getting engaged to a 9-year-old. Practicing Truthsaying on prisoners, some of whom have fresh bruises on their faces.

Arrakis is...the same. This one is honestly fucking me up. I know time scales in Dune are absurd and really kind of incomprehensible in comparison to real Earth history but can you imagine your home being passed around various imperialist powers for resource extraction for ten thousand years?? FOUR HUNDRED GENERATIONS. 80 years of Harkonnen rule seems like nothing. We're talking about whole eras of colonial control and resistance here. Like damn. No wonder so many Fremen have come to believe that only a messiah can save them. Imagine being someone like Chani and feeling the legacy of not decades or even centuries but millennia of struggle on your shoulders. It is gonna take me a while to fully absorb this one. Holy fuck.

Travis Fimmel's character has an...ability that we haven't seen in the Dune universe before and I'm super curious to see where they're gonna go with that.

Overall it feels like this episode was mostly setup but there's a lot of potential? Like there are a lot of potential threads that could develop into something cool and twisty and interesting. I'm not sure where any of it is going yet but I'm ready to find out.

#dune #dune prophecy

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spiderb00 · 24 days ago

Text

Meet the girls - Megan Skiendiel

Megan Skiendiel X Reader

Synopsis - Meeting your girlfriend's parents can be scary, but the five girls she lives with, oh man...

Genre – Fluff

a/n - thank you for request this, 6’3 Anon! I wanted to write something about Megan, but my brain wouldn't give me anything. <3 (request)

You were nervous, the whole way here was extremely slow and as much as Megan tried to reassure you over the phone, you weren't entirely convinced of her words. So when you pulled up in front of the Kats' house, you hadn't been able to get out of the car.

Megan was an important person in your life, the person you wanted to share everything with, the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. That's why you were so nervous to meet the Kats. It was as if you were entering into your judgment, the debate on whether or not you would be worthy of dating Megan.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a smiling Megan tapped the window, finally getting you out of the car.

"How long did you come?" Megan asked, standing for a moment on tiptoe to reach her cheek, giving a quick kiss there.

"I think about five minutes ago. I was just..."

"Yes, of course, I know you were up your big baby." Megan said, looking at you with playful looks. "You know it's kind of comical? You usually intimidate people a little bit, but here you are, shaking like a kitten."

"Hey! I wasn't shaking, I just wanted to look presentable. And it's not my fault that people find tall people intimidating." You said, looking at your girlfriend, that she was looking at you with a defiant smile.

"Alright then, Miss Nervous, let's get in before they start saying I made you up." Megan said as she intertwined your hands with hers, dragging you inside.

The house was big, beautiful, and intimidating, but come on, you could handle it. Megan's idea was a relaxed dinner at home, where you could be more comfortable, since you weren't public yet. So when you all settled down at the dinner table, Megan introduced each girl and your nerves calmed down more by the minute.

"So, Yn..." Sophia began. "Where did you and Megan meet?" The older girl asked casually.

"Oh, we have some friends in common. One day, my friend Malia asked me out with her and some friends, so that's when Kylie introduced me to Megan. And I kind of fell in love right away." You replied, looking at your girlfriend sitting next to you and intertwining your hands with hers on the table.

"Aww, you guys are so cute!" Lara says looking at you two.

All the girls agreed with Lara's line, immediately seeing how you treat Megan.

"Are your tattoos real?" Yoonchae asked, making you laugh a little.

"Yes, they are." you said, giving the younger girl a smile.

"Wow, there are many, they are very cool."

"Thank you, Yoonchae." you said, making the younger girl smile at you.

"You kind of remind me of Sophia's girlfriend." Daniela says as she takes a sip of her drink.

"What? They don't look alike." Sophia says laughing lightly.

"No, she's right. It's just this whole aura of protective and intimidating, but when you open your mouth and we realize you're just a Golden Retriver, I don't know." Manon says, elaborating well on the comparison. "I'm sure you'd get along just fine with Sophia's girlfriend." Manon completes.

"Girl..."

The girls engage in a deep argument, being loud and electric as always. You and your girlfriend exchanging glances, laughing lightly at the whole situation.

"So maybe I didn't need to be so afraid." You said, scratching the back of your neck.

"I told you, I told you so, there's nothing to fear."

"I just wanted them to think I'm good for you. That's why I was afraid." you said, looking into the redhead's eyes.

"You're perfect for me." Megan said, taking your face in her hands and kissing you.

"AWW!" A chorus of "aww's" interrupts your kiss with Megan, causing you to part with smiles on your faces.

"Shut up." Megan says, throwing a napkin to hit any of the girls.

That's it, kisses for everyone!!! <3

#gxg #kpop gg #katseye #katseye imagines #katseye x reader #megan skiendiel x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #daniela avanzini x reader #manon x reader #lara raj x reader #yoonchae x reader

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whereslynx · 2 months ago

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Reader is gf of spooky for a long time, they all head to the pool together. Monse being jealous bc reader is very close with cesar, and you know, usual stuff like ruby and jamal caught staring 😂

a/n: HAHAHAHA SUREEE!! sorry for not posting yesterday, i got really busy :’)

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The sun was high in the sky, casting a shimmering reflection over the pool, making the water sparkle like tiny diamonds. You stretched out on a lounge chair, soaking up the warmth while the sounds of laughter and splashing filled the air. The Santos crew, along with Ruby, Jamal, and Monse, had gathered for a rare day off, the mood light and easy for once. Oscar, always close, was perched beside you, sunglasses on, looking every bit like the king of the block, even at a pool party.

You adjusted the straps of your swimsuit, glancing around the group. Ruby and Jamal were already in the pool, goofing off and splashing each other, while Cesar was sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water. Monse sat near him, her attention flicking between you and Cesar with a thinly veiled expression—her eyes narrowing just slightly every time she saw you and Cesar exchanging playful banter.

Cesar caught your eye, grinning as he called out to you, “Yo, you gon’ join us or just sit there all day, looking pretty?”

You laughed, sitting up slightly and pulling your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. “I don’t know, C. Think you can handle me in the pool?” you teased back, your tone light and playful. You’d known Cesar almost as long as you’d known Oscar, and the two of you had always had this easygoing, sibling-like vibe—though Monse clearly didn’t see it that way.

Oscar, sitting next to you with his usual unreadable expression, gave a small chuckle. He wasn’t the jealous type, not with Cesar, at least. He knew his little brother meant no harm and that the bond between the two of you was innocent. Still, you could feel Monse’s eyes on you, her posture stiffening as you spoke to Cesar.

Monse, never one to hide her feelings for long, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You two are always so close,” she muttered, loud enough for you to hear, though she tried to mask it as an offhand comment.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing her way with a knowing smile. “Cesar’s like my little brother, Monse. You know that.”

Monse’s lips tightened, but she forced a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Oscar leaned over, placing a hand on your thigh, his touch possessive yet subtle. He smirked, sensing the tension but not commenting on it. Instead, he tilted his head toward the water. “Go on, babe. Show ‘em how it’s done.”

You shot him a playful look, rising from your chair and sauntering toward the pool. As you did, you could feel eyes on you—specifically, two pairs that weren’t as subtle as Monse’s. Ruby and Jamal, who had been engaged in their usual bickering, suddenly stopped when you walked past, their conversation faltering as their jaws dropped just a little.

Jamal, his wide eyes barely hidden behind his sunglasses, nudged Ruby hard. “Yo, bro, are you seeing this?”

Ruby, caught mid-sentence, just nodded slowly, his gaze following you as if in a trance. “Yeah, man… I’m seeing it.”

You bit back a smile, pretending not to notice them staring as you reached the pool’s edge and dipped your toes in. The water was cool, a welcome contrast to the heat. Cesar smirked up at you, mischief in his eyes. “You sure you can swim, or am I gon’ have to save you?”

Before you could answer, Cesar grabbed your hand and yanked you into the pool, causing a huge splash. You came up laughing, water dripping from your hair as you playfully shoved him back. “Oh, you’re so gonna pay for that!”

The splash had been enough to snap Ruby and Jamal out of their daze. Ruby leaned over to Jamal, his voice low but not low enough. “Man, if Spooky wasn’t in the picture…”

Jamal, still staring, added, “No kidding, bro. She’s like… wow.”

Monse, clearly overhearing their conversation, rolled her eyes. “You two are pathetic,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked away.

Oscar, who had been watching all of this from his seat, finally stood up, stretching his arms before making his way to the pool’s edge. He took off his sunglasses, his eyes following you in the water as you laughed with Cesar. With a quick glance toward Ruby and Jamal, who immediately snapped their heads in the opposite direction, Oscar raised an eyebrow. “You guys got something to say?”

Ruby held his hands up in surrender, a sheepish grin on his face. “Nah, Spooky, we’re cool. Just, you know, admiring.”

Jamal nodded eagerly. “Yeah, just admiring.”

Oscar smirked, not missing the way they were both still staring at you. “Better keep it that way,” he said coolly, his tone half-joking but with enough edge to remind them exactly who you were with.

Meanwhile, in the pool, Cesar gave you a knowing look, clearly aware of the situation but trying not to laugh too hard. “You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger, huh?”

You shrugged, splashing water in his direction. “Not my fault. I’m just here to enjoy the day.”

Monse’s patience finally snapped, her voice cutting through the lighthearted mood. “Cesar, you mind helping me with something over here?” she asked, her tone sharper than usual.

Cesar blinked, confused but obliging. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Monse.”

As he got out of the pool to follow her, you couldn’t help but notice the way Monse’s glare lingered on you for a moment before she turned to Cesar. You sighed, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your fault that you and César got along so well, but you knew how Monse felt about it.

Oscar, noticing the shift in the vibe, walked over to where you were still floating near the edge of the pool. He crouched down, giving you a rare, affectionate smile. “You good, baby?” His voice was low, just for you.

You smiled back, reaching up to lightly brush your fingers along his arm. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to make you feel like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. “Come on, let’s get outta here. These fools can keep staring all they want.”

You laughed softly, knowing he wasn’t wrong. With one last splash of water in César’s direction—just for good measure—you let Oscar pull you out of the pool, his hand warm and steady as he helped you onto solid ground.

Ruby and Jamal, still stealing glances, exchanged another look as you and Oscar walked past them. “Bro,” Ruby whispered, “how does he do it?”

Jamal shook his head, still in awe. “I don’t know, man. Spooky’s got the game on lock.”

Oscar glanced over his shoulder, giving them both a pointed look. “Is something the matter?”

Both Ruby and Jamal shook their heads quickly, stammering in unison, “Nope, all good, Spooky!”

Oscar laughed, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “That’s what I thought.”

You couldn’t help but grin, feeling the warmth of the sun and the quiet, comfortable power of being right where you wanted to be—with him.

#omb #on my block #on my block x reader #fanfic #oneshot #spooky #spooky x reader #cesar diaz #reader insert #jamal turner #ruby martinez #monse #oscar diaz x reader

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zenithangelic · 1 month ago

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I'd like some Jealous Leon Kennedy and Chris Redfield x femreader headcannons (separate)

Jealous Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield x fem!reader headcanons:

Leon

Leon doesn’t see himself as the jealous type, but the moment someone starts getting too close for his liking, his protective instincts go into overdrive. He subtly places himself between you and the other person, as if shielding you without making a scene

When Leon feels jealous, he doesn’t lash out or confront anyone directly. Instead, he gets uncharacteristically quiet, his usual witty remarks replaced by terse one-word responses. His jaw clenches as he watches the interaction, his piercing blue eyes narrowed slightly

Leon has a habit of casually resting his hand on your back or shoulder, or even wrapping an arm around your waist in public when someone is paying too much attention to you. It’s his silent way of saying, she’s with me

If the situation escalates, Leon might let out a sarcastic remark aimed at the other person, like, “Wow, didn’t realise we had a fan club today,” while keeping his expression cool and calm. His words may sting, but his tone is so subtle it’s hard to call him out

Once the two of you are alone, Leon becomes extra affectionate to reassure himself that you’re his. Expect long, lingering kisses, tight hugs, and whispered confessions like, “You’re mine, you know that, right?”

If Leon suspects someone has a genuine interest in you, he’ll start watching them closely, almost as if they’re a potential threat. His training kicks in, and he memorises their movements and demeanour, ready to step in if needed

Leon isn’t above a bit of playful sabotage. If someone tries to engage you in conversation for too long, he’ll conveniently “need your help” with something or interrupt with a sly quip to derail the discussion

After the dust settles, Leon might let his guard down and admit his feelings to you. “I don’t want to be that guy, but... I just can’t stand the thought of losing you.” His voice is low, and his vulnerability shines through

In high-stakes situations, like missions or outbreaks, his jealousy translates into unwavering focus on your safety. He won’t let anyone else take charge of protecting you, insisting, “Stay behind me. I’ll handle this.”

Leon knows jealousy isn’t his most attractive trait, so he makes an effort to trust you. After calming down, he’ll apologise for overreacting, softly saying, “I trust you, I just… I can’t help it sometimes.” He values your relationship too much to let jealousy ruin it

If you notice his jealousy and tease him about it, Leon’s ears might flush slightly as he sheepishly mutters, “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous. Can you blame me?” You can always coax a bashful smile out of him with some reassurance of your own

Chris

Chris is not one to beat around the bush. If someone’s getting too close to you, he’ll walk right up and insert himself into the conversation with a friendly but firm, “Everything okay here?” His imposing presence is often enough to send the message

Chris has a knack for subtly steering you away from situations where he feels someone’s intentions aren’t pure. He’ll guide you by the small of your back, saying something like, “Let’s go check out what’s over there,” to get you away from whoever’s making him uneasy

While not rude, Chris isn’t shy about letting someone know they’re crossing a line. He’ll say something like, “You seem really friendly—maybe a little too friendly,” with a raised brow and a knowing smile, making it clear he’s onto them

Chris becomes unusually observant when he’s feeling jealous. He watches your interactions closely, noting every smile, laugh, or lingering glance. He’s not overbearing, but you can tell he’s hyper-aware of what’s happening

When Chris gets jealous, his eyes do most of the talking. He’ll shoot the other person a look that says back off without needing to say a word. His naturally commanding gaze is enough to make anyone second-guess their approach

Chris has a way of asserting his presence without being overt. He might stand a little closer to you, square his shoulders, or even subtly flex when the other person is looking. It’s a quiet reminder of his strength and capability

Once you’re alone, Chris can’t help but tease you about the situation. “You sure you weren’t enjoying all that attention a little too much?” he’ll ask with a smirk, though his tone is light-hearted enough to make you laugh

When his jealousy is obvious, Chris gets a bit flustered trying to justify it. “I’m not jealous—I just don’t trust that guy. He was looking at you like... you know what I mean!” His cheeks might flush slightly as he realises how transparent he’s being

To reassert his role as your protector, Chris goes out of his way to do things for you when he’s feeling jealous. Whether it’s carrying something heavy, cooking dinner, or taking care of errands, he wants to remind you that he’s the one who’s got your back

If he’s feeling playful, Chris might jokingly challenge the other person in a way that lets him blow off steam. “So, what’s your bench max? Oh, really? Cool. Mine’s a little higher,” he’ll say with a grin, turning his jealousy into a subtle competition

Later, Chris will sit down with you and candidly admit his feelings. “I know I can be a little overprotective, but it’s only because I care so much. I don’t want to lose you.” His honesty shines through, making it hard to stay annoyed at him

Chris’s jealousy often serves as a reminder of how much he values you. After a particularly tense moment, he’ll pull you into his arms and murmur, “I just love you, okay? More than anything.” His sincerity always melts your heart

♡If you liked this fic, please consider buying me a coffee! Ko-fi ♡

#fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x you #leon kennedy #headcanon

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goldenempyrean · 5 months ago

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Hi there! If you are still taking them id love to request a fic where the avengers are bantering/teasing Natasha because she supposedly never gets sick but a little while later R finds her crying and thinks its because the guys have upset her but its really because she feels so terrible.Maybe including Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles and Oh my god you’re completely burning up. Sorry if this is too specific I just think it would be so cute

You're My World

〚 Notes - Wow, its been a while. I haven’t written Nat in so long, finally getting this request done <3 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Nobody really believes it when Natasha gets ill but there’s always going to be one person thats always there for her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Afternoon sunshine, and just what time do you call this?” The voice of Tony called out with a small chuckle, raising his eyebrows from behind a mug of coffee.

“Lay off her Stark.” You bit back, shooting him a glare and came over to where your girlfriend had shuffled into the room. She was leaning against the doorframe, her pale complexion a sharp contrast to her messy red curls.

You put down your own coffee and came to her side, hand reaching up to cup her cheeks, “Morning baby,” You murmured, kissing her forehead gently before taking her hand and leading her over to sit by the kitchen island, “You still not feeling good?”

The two of you had been cuddled in bed together last night when she’d complained of being extra tired and after some gentle encouraging, she’d eventually admitted that she’d had a growing sinus headache for most of the day.

When you’d woken up that morning, Natasha had still been asleep, still curled up in your arms. Usually, she was up before the sun had even risen, getting in a workout or simply just enjoying her morning. After some careful consideration you decided it would be best to let her sleep in, so you’d carefully detached yourself from her arms and pulled the blanket back over her before silently tiptoeing out from the room.

Natasha shook her head, “I think I’m getting a cold.” She mumbled glumly, letting her head fall onto your shoulder as you sat down beside her. She stayed like that for a moment before falling into a painful sounding coughing fit.

“Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles,” You sighed sympathetically in response, “You wanna head back to bed? I can bring you some water and something to eat?”

“Heading back to bed? At this time in the afternoon?” Tony interrupted with a playful scoff as she jumped up to sit on the countertop. He looked at you then Natasha before whistling through his teeth, “You, Miss Romanoff, look like shit.”

“Shut up Stark.” It was too early to be dealing with his shenanigans. Natasha just rolled her eyes, judging it best to simply ignore him, “And just for the record, it’s barely 10am. No idea what world you live in where that’s considered afternoon.”

"That's probably the world where Tony's been up since 4am tinkering with his latest suit," Steve chimed in, entering the kitchen with a knowing smile. He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a bite, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Natasha gave a weak chuckle which was quickly followed by a short cough into her elbow, rubbing a hand down the front of her throat. She swallowed and tried her best not to wince at the painful sensation which followed.

Of course you noticed. “I’ll grab you that water.” You rubbed her back gently for a moment before heading to the fridge.

“I didn’t even know you could get sick yknow.” Clint piped up, seemingly deciding to join in on the conversation. He’d previously been too engaged with trying to solve the children’s word search on the back of his brightly coloured cereal box.

She looked over towards him, “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed a little.

“I dunno.” He shrugged, “I just mean, I’ve never even seen you close to sick. Like when you had the gnarly shoulder cut that got infected, you didn’t even run a fever or anything like most people do.”

Tony pulled a face of disgust, “Barton, I really do not need to be hearing about gross shoulder gashes when I’m trying to enjoy my coffee, thank you very much.” Clint pulled a similar face to mock him before throwing a tea towel in his general direction, leading the two of them to start bickering at each other.

You’d just been handing your girlfriend the bottle of water when Bruce strolled in - adjusting his glasses and taking in the scene. "How come everyone's so chipper this morning," He asked dryly. "What's going on?"

"Romanoff’s caught the plague," Tony took a break from messing with Clint to speak in his most serious voice, earned several eyerolls from around the room, "But don't worry, Doctor Banner, I'm sure ‘Miss I Never Take Sick Days’ will pull through."

Natasha groaned, “God you’re such an asshole.” She sniffled, rubbing at her nose for a moment. Whatever itch she’d been trying to get rid of clearly hadn’t been listening because a second later she drew in a sharp breath and sneezed twice in quick succession.

It wasn’t exactly a dainty sound, like her usual sneezes rather harsher yet still somewhat feminine. Obviously, it was still adorable, but you couldn’t help but think now wasn’t the best thing to vocalise that.

Instead, you settled for a loving, “Bless you.” as you offered her a tissue from the box nearby. She mumbled a quiet thank you, dabbing at her nose. The teasing continued as you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"Maybe she just needs more vitamins," Clint suggested with a smirk. "Or maybe a new suit of armour, Tony?"

"Please, like I'd let anyone else touch my suits," Tony replied, his voice dripping with mock horror. Natasha sneezed again, a little louder this time and he pointed over in her direction, “Plus there’s no way I’m letting someone that drippy inside one of my suits. I’m not in the mood to expose my lab to a walking biohazard.”

“You’re exhausting.” Natasha sniffled from behind a tissue. Her nose was starting to take on an irritated red twinge. She coughed again before clearing her throat roughly, “s’cuse me.”

You felt your gaze soften a little, “You’re okay sweetheart.” You spoke reassuringly, before offering an outstretched hand as you slid from your stool, “How ‘bout we head back up to bed, get you away from all the men-pheromones. They surely can’t be making you feel any better.”

It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree.

She accepted your hand gratefully as helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her as you both walked back to your room.

Once back in your room, you gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. "How about I run you a nice relaxing bath?" You suggested, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. The subtle heat rising from her skin didn’t go unnoticed though, “Poor girl, you're completely burning up here, aren’t you?”

You made a mental note to take her temperature and get some medicine into her later. You knew she’d likely fight you about it, but that bridge could be crossed when it came to it.

In the current moment Natasha nodded, “A bath sounds nice.” Her voice was a little worse than earlier, a little more congested and scratchier.

“Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll get it ready," You said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before heading into the bathroom.

It didn’t take long to draw the bath. You methodically checked it to make sure it wasn’t too hot nor cold, even going as far to add a generous squirt of your berry-scented bubble bath. You weren’t entirely sure she’d be able to smell it but the clouds of fluffy bubbles covering the surface of the water certainly did the job. The steam began to rise, filling the room with a comforting warmth. You smiled to yourself and drew a little heart on the condensation-soaked mirror before heading back out to get Nat.

Natasha wasn’t where you’d left her. Instead, she was led down on the bed, curled up with her back facing the door. You knew she wasn’t asleep by her breathing, so you gently came to sit by her side, “Natty?” You murmured quietly, reaching out to stroke her back when you noticed the damp sniffles coming from her. She was crying.

“Oh baby, what’s up my love?” You were pulling her into your arms in an instant. She clung onto you; her body wracked with feverish chills. You knew fevers made her weepy, but this was different. Your poor baby was distraught.

The redhead sobbed for a little longer, before sniffling thickly, “I don’t know.” She managed to stammer out, wiping her eyes but fresh tears quickly came to replace them.

“Was it the boys earlier?” You scowled, “I know they didn’t mean harm but-“

She shook her head, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen her, "No, it's not that. I’m just- I just feel so exhausted... my whole-body hurts and I feel so ill." Her voice cracked as she tried to speak, blinking as your hand gently moved up to wipe away the tears streaming down her fave.

You wrapped her in a gentle hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "I know, sweetheart, I know. It's sucks to feel sick; I understand especially how hard it is when you’re not used to it either. You’re my world Natasha, so just let me look after you, alright?”

She nodded after a moment and you gave her a few minutes to let it all out, holding her until she was ready. Eventually the tears stopped, and she looked up you again, “I’m okay. I’m sorry I just lost myself for moment.” She leaned away from you as she cough harshly, her poor voice sounding even worse then earlier.

You rubbed her back until she managed to stop coughing and catch her breath, “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. You and fevers don’t go well as if we both know but if we’re being honest, I think you needed that, to just get all of that out. Sometimes its better to cry it all out.”

“It still sucks though.”

“I won't argue with that,” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle. She did have a point. “How about we get you in that bath now?”

The offer wasn’t refused and soon the two of you were cooped up in the bathroom. You found yourself kneeling down by the side of the tub as you gently washed her hair, running your hand through her damp red curls.

“How does that feel baby? The steam should help open up your sinuses a little.”

Natasha closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips. "It feels good, really good." Her voice was softer now, a bit more relaxed as she leaned into your touch. You continued to gently massage her scalp, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your fingers.

You reached for the cup nearby, carefully rinsing the shampoo from her hair, ensuring none of it got into her eyes. "You're doing great," You murmured, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

She sniffled again, but this time it wasn't accompanied by tears. "Thanks for taking care of me," She whispered, her eyes meeting yours with a grateful look.

“Of course.” You smiled lovingly. The two of you continued the talk quietly as you continued to wash her hair. Nat had insisted she was okay to sit by herself but the way her eyes kept drooping closed didn’t have you convinced. Eventually the water began to turn cold, and it was time for her to get out.

There was a fluffy towel ready and waiting to be wrapped around her. You’d already laid out a fresh pair of matching pyjamas for you both to change into.

You helped her into the pyjamas, making sure she was warm and comfortable. As she settled onto the bed, you pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in gently. Natasha's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she opened them again, looking at you when she felt something being gently nestled into her hold.

Her small brown bear. Something only, you knew about. It brought her comfort when there was nobody else around, it was something you’d given to her before you’d gone on a long undercover mission. If anyone else knew how much it meant to her, she’d probably have to kill them. This was something only she could know.

"Do you need anything else my darling?" You asked quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as you climbed beneath the covers beside her.

Rolling over to face you, Natasha buried her face in your chest, “Just you, only you.” She muttered before hiding a yawn against your shirt. You knew she’d be asleep soon and you began drawing random shapes down her back as she settled into your hold, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell into a gentle sleep.

It was true Natasha Romanoff didn’t get sick often but when she did? Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

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