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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago

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the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do.

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack.

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family.

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park.

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy.

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly.

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?”

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky.

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them.

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.”

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode.

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house.

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear.

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack.

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.”

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same.

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend.

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!”

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape.

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted.

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him.

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls.

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.”

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin.

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody.

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end.

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music.

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched.

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade.

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips.

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself.

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it.

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips.

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?”

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?”

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair.

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard.

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.”

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand.

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!”

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.”

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?”

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?”

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs.

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours.

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening.

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present.

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–”

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.”

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–”

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?”

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…”

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.”

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals.

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him.

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together.

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut.

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside.

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch.

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth.

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.”

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head.

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…”

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?”

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him.

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in.

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy.

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side.

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you.

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared.

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles.

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.”

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room.

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame.

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice.

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!”

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.”

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?”

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes.

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold.

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside.

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.”

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.”

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet.

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well.

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him.

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.”

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.”

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness.

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within.

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head.

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life.

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–”

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway.

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you.

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh.

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop.

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it.

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative.

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs.

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…”

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?”

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?”

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!”

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out.

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room.

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.”

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.”

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk.

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.”

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin.

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…”

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air.

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy.

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely.

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.”

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek.

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold.

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms.

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock.

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you.

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…”

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth.

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock.

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.”

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.”

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum.

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole.

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

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0-therw-0-rldly · 4 months ago

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I’ll preface this by saying I’m not really a shipper. I just enjoy canon couples on TV Series/films.

Terms I’d like B*ddies to remove from their vocabulary because they don’t know how to use them correctly:

Media literacy: For a group that uses this term a lot you sure do misinterpret everything in this show.

Queerbaiting: Going to expand on this one. A show that’s already been pre established for having queer characters simply cannot queerbait.

Ship baiting: While sometimes you can argue that they could be doing that, that’s only if you look at the show in a very biased manner. You might think this is the case but the general audience doesn’t think the way you do.

Ship war: This isn’t a one tree hill situation where there was Team Brooke Vs. Team Peyton where the middle guy (Lucas Scott) had canonically been with both women. This is people not understanding fanon vs. canon and not being able to just watch the show. It’s like playing quarterback on Madden and thinking you could be better than Patrick Mahomes.

Plot device: everything’s a plot device. Move tf on.

Predator: You sound like crazy MAGA supporters calling everything regarding the LGBTQIA+ community as predatory. Sit down.

Co-parenting: I know this is a big one and discourse was brought up during the hiatus. Oliver and Ryan have loosely mentioned this years ago but it was never to be taken this seriously. Do y’all even know what co-parenting is or are you that big of a donut? Buck is someone who loves his best friend deeply and by extension, his kid too. Him taking care of him frequently does not make him a co-parent. Maybe he is a parental or uncle figure, but he isn’t a co-parent. Also, I swear y’all need to learn how a will works. He is a GODPARENT, not a GUARDIAN. Stfu.

Hag: This especially applies to women, but to say that someone 25-30+ is a hag for still being in fandoms or enjoying tv shows/films is inherently misogynistic. Men are never held to this much criticism for enjoying fictional media, but women aren’t allowed to?

Queer Coding: people of the same sex “looking at each other”, hugging, or having intimate moments all together doesn’t make them queer coded. It could mean that they just love each other that deeply platonically. While representation is amazing and just because you interpret a character as queer coded (just like my ship baiting comment) doesn’t mean others interpret it that way as well. In addition, network TV has stipulations, and also actors are allowed to decline storylines. Ryan has mentioned his character is heterosexual an abundance of times which means (at least for now) that he isn’t willing to go for this storyline.

Dead naming: Y’all construing the fact that Buck wants people like coworkers and some of his former love interests, to saying Evan is his dead name is inherently transphobic because do you even understand what a dead name is? Evan Buckley is shown as being fine with being called Evan by both Tommy and his sister. I’m pretty sure some of his love interests have called him Evan as well.

Fetishizing: You guys saw two hot guys who “looked at each other” and for 6 seasons have wanted nothing but to see those two make out with each other. Those of us who enjoy Tevan saw Buck giddy at the thought of Tommy and have wanted domestic fluff for them since.

Anything to do with racism, homophobia, and misogyny: I’ve seen the way you guys have conveniently weaponized Henren and by extension Aisha/Tracie when you didn’t get the Ryan/Oliver interview, don’t try to act like you’re morally superior. Not to mention wanting a canonically gay man to die in a show and not even holding those who use your ship name to write CSA fics accountable because you’re petty and want to throw hissy fits. Anyone looking at your comments as an outsider would think you’re homophobes and yes queer people can be homophobic.

I do hope you can expand your vocabulary. 🤍

#I swear y’all are just telling on yourselves for being idiots #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 show #tevan #abc 911 #lou ferrigno jr #911 #kinley #rants #anti buddie #anti bobs

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magics-neptunes-things · 8 months ago

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Feelings (5)

Hi guys!

New chapter for this Serie, I hope you'll like it too :) Don't be shy about telling what you think about it, or asking if you want to have something special in it. I had a request from here for this one, so I hope it will be ok like this :)

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Suggestive, sex talk (?)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Saying goodbye to Alessia was hard, but you didn’t have the choice. You knew since the start of all this that it would happen, but that doesn’t mean it was making things easier.

You find your apartment like you left it, your friend Sofia came several times to ventilate it and take care of your olive tree. That you renamed Olivio, with all the imagination that is yours. The only thing that changed, is that there is no Alma laying on your couch like she was used to do when you were away. You always hided your keys under your doormat for her to come, but you asked Sofia to take it away for now. You still have things belonging to Alma in here though.

You send them to her by the post before going to your first training session. Your Spanish teammates look at you with friendly compassion when your arrived and you realize that you almost forgot that you lost a finale several days before. Alessia made you forget.

You find your habits really quickly, even if Laia Codina or Jenni are not part of the team anymore. But Ona being one to replace them, you’re pretty sure that Lucy isn’t too mad. You still have to talk to her about Alessia though, you knew that she went on holidays with Ona and didn’t want to bother her. And you teased her so much about Ona that you’re sure she won’t miss to tease you back for now.

Cata Coll is one of your closest friends here and it’s with her that you appear for the first time back on Fc Barcelona Feminin’s Instagram. The training was lighter the first days, but you soon go back to the real session.

“So. You and Less?” asks Lucy one afternoon where you are at her flat after the training.

“Yes?” you answer innocently.

You were playing against each other at Fifa on Playstation, Lucy’s actually crushing you with Manchester City. You’re still trying to figure how she can be good at everything.

“How did you get together?”

“What tell you that we are together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you were making out in the plane when I came back to ask if I can borrow your earphones?”

Sitting on the other couch while scrolling on her phone, Ona can’t help but snort. You don’t mind her being here while you’re talking about your love life. You like her and she’s your mate’s girlfriend. You better get along and for now it’s working great. You smile too, to be fair, even if you blush lightly.

“We didn’t put a label on it, so I don’t know if I can call her my girlfriend” you answer, frowning softly.

It was the truth, even if you both said that you won’t go for someone else. You really hope that no one will catch Alessia’s eyes at Arsenal or even London. She’s starting again in a new environment; she doesn’t know everyone for now. You trust her obviously, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t lose interest in you.

“We did that at first too” Lucy answers. “Long-distance was hard, but really worth it if you’re meant to be.”

You hum, missing the complicit smile between Ona and Lucy. You sigh when Lucy scores another goal just before the end of the game. With a disgusted air, you let the controller fall on the couch.

“I’ve never been in a long-distance relationship before. It’s strange, to be honest, not being able to take the girl you like on date or something.”

“It is” Lucy smiles, patting your knee softly. “If you need advice or only talking, you can come to me. Or Mariona, she’s dealing with it for longer that I was.”

You nod. You somehow forgot that Mariona is dating Alessia’s teammate. Maybe you can take planes together sometimes, you think with irony.

“And Alma?” Lucy asks.

“Never heard from her again. I send her the things she left in my apartment and that’s all.”

********

You took the habits to call Alessia every night. She’s usually cooking her diner and put her phone against one of her kitchen walls to be able to cook while talking to you. You can really look at her for hours doing it. You only regret not being able to stick against her while she cuts some vegetables.

“What do you like to eat?” Alessia asks you that night.

You were silently observing her, lost in your contemplation.

“Oh uh… It depends” you shrug. “I’m not really difficult, I mean I think?”

Alessia laughs softly.

“I cooked for Leah two days ago, it was entertaining” the blonde says.

You smirk, knowing exactly what it could have been. You never met anyone as picky as Leah when it comes from food. You can guess her choice when you go to restaurant with her, it’s always the simplest dish.

“Why do you ask anyway?” you ask Alessia.

She looks genuinely surprise by your question, stopping to cut her carrots to look at you better.

“Don’t you come next week to London?”

“Yes?”

“Well I want to cook for you, obviously. We chose to get delivered almost at every meal we share when we stayed at home, but I really want to cook for you.”

“Ok” you smile softy. “Only if you let me take you on a proper date.”

“Is that even a deal?” Alessia smiles at you.

You feel your heart beating faster and God, how did you survive when she smiled at you that way in front of you?

Several days later, you were leaving training in hurry. You have two hours to go to the airport after your session and you came with your suitcase to go for it straight after your shower.

“Why are you in such hurry?” Jana asks from her cubby.

“She’s going to her girlfrieeeend” Cata sings from her spot.

“Girlfriend?”

Keira’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you flinch. Right, you didn’t talk to Keira about your new relationship. For your defense, you were thinking that Leah would. You grimace to Cata, grabs your suitcase and go for the exit.

“Say Alessia I say hi” Lucy shouts before getting hit by Ona on her arm.

“Alessia?”

You giggle when you hear the surprise in Keira’s voice but don’t take the time to answer, too scared to miss your plane. You jump in the taxi waiting for you and went for the airport.

It’s only when your luggage are taking care by the company that you take your phone off of your pocket. You wanted at first to write to Alessia to let her know that you were on your way, but you have some messages from Keira too.

Keira 🥠 Alessia??? Like in Alessia Russo? You better answer me right now, Kid.

You Who’s Alessia Russo?

Keira 🥠 You little shit. Bring back some Scones.

During the two hours and twenty-one minutes of the trip, you slept. You went to bed late this week, not being able to hang up with Alessia, even if you knew that you would see her today.

You are alert when you arrive in London, by dint of traveling from this airport, you know it by heart. There is an hour of time difference with Spain, so you feel like you have only left Spain for an hour and a half. The sandwich you snacked while waiting for your suitcase will allow you to wait until you arrive at Alessia’s, who promised to cook for you tonight. You know that you have at least one hour to go to Alessia’s house, London traffic jam being awful.

You were taping on your phone for an Uber when a voice next to you make you jump out of your skin.

“Hi stranger!”

You jump, turning around only to be face with the mischievous face of your gi… Alessia. She was supposed to be at London, not at the airport. You might look stupid when you look at her with wide eyes and your mouth slightly open. It made Alessia giggles, and you feel your stomach make a jump at the sound.

“Lessi? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I have a great visitor coming to mine this weekend, so I decided to come to take her home.”

“No, I mean…”

“I know what you mean” Alessia laughs before kissing your cheek. “I changed my media hours with Kyra to be here at the right time.”

“Oh.”

You blush and let Alessia takes your suitcase. You then follow her to the parking lot, slaloming between people. You want to take Alessia’s hand in yours, but you don’t want to make her uneasy. There are a lot of people here.

You are happy to be sitting on the passenger’s seat of her car, who is definitely more comfortable than your seat on the plane. You can’t stop to look at her and just because she’s just next to you right now, you softly stroke her cheek before taking her hand in yours.

“I missed you” you mumble when she looks at you.

She is driving and you should have taken the opportunity to kiss her before you left the parking, but you maybe will have plenty of time to do it at her home.

“I missed you too” Alessia smiles.

She asks about your trip; you ask her about her day and finally the journey for her house isn’t so long. Even if there are a lot of people on the road at this time of the day.

“Leah wants to meet you during your stay” Alessia said at one time during the trip. “I told her not today because you will be tired, but maybe tomorrow morning? She can come to have a brunch or something before the game?”

“It sounds nice” you smile, not mentioning that only seeing her is enough for you.

Alessia had a game tomorrow afternoon, but it let you all tonight, all day after the game and all the next day too. You will leave on Monday morning very early to be at training in the morning. And you are determined to enjoy it the most possible.

You are happy to find Alessia’s house too, looking around you, you notice that some things as changed since you came the last time. She added some decorations. Alessia showed you during one of your FaceTime, but it’s different like this. You just have the time to look at the picture she took in Australia during the World Cup, before you feel her arms around you.

“I didn’t have my hello kiss.”

You smile, putting your hand on her arms.

“That’s a shame. It needs to be fixed.”

“It does.”

You turn around in her arms, passing both of yours around her neck. You take the time to look at her properly, her eyes, her freckles, and her smile, before leaning in to kiss her. You can’t explain how much you missed that feeling. Alessia sighs against you and you get even closer to her, melting in her embrace.

“That’s better” Alessia smiles after the kiss.

She then kisses your nose, your forehead, both of your cheeks and finish on your lips again.

“Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap while I’m cooking?”

“Like I’m going to sleep instead of being with you.” you snort.

Alessia rolls her eyes but takes you by your hand anyway. She made you sit on a stool at the central island of her kitchen with a mug of tea. You listen to her, Alessia making almost all the conversation, but it’s always like this between you. You love to hear her talking, trying to remember every little thing she says to you.

Your eyes are going sometimes on her bum, you have to admit. But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. You proposed to help her two times, but she refused, saying that you can help tomorrow. You will.

Her lasagna is amazing.

“It’s my Nona’s recipe” Alessia smiles when you compliment her.

You made the dishes for her, ignoring her protests, and end up cuddle with her on her couch in front of some film she chooses. But you don’t even try to look at it, you are way more interested about your girlfriend than Blake Lively fighting for her life. You try hard not to bother her too much, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing her cheek, her hair or playing with her fingers.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to mind, actually she has a small smile on her face every time you look at her.

“I missed your smell” Alessia mumbles after another kiss.

You smile, because you said yourself the same things a lot of time during the time you were at Barcelona. And you promised yourself that you will take one of her hoodies when you will leave.

You stroke the skin of her neck with your nose before kissing it several times. But then she softly bites your ear, and you feel your body being swept by electric currents. The sensations are hard to ignore.

They are so hard to ignore that you found yourself with your girlfriend, both naked, some hours later, laying in her bed. Alessia is laying on her back while you are on her belly. One of her hands is playing with your hair and you are trying hard not to fall asleep already.

“Can I ask you something?” Alessia whispers “But you have to promise not to mock me.”

“Of course you can Sweetheart. I won’t make fun of you, promise.”

You turn your head on her to have a better look at her and even if the light of her bedside lamp isn’t strong, you can see that she had blush. You watch her bite her lip and fight the want to bite at it, too. You need to stay focused; you are curious about what is in her mind.

“So… As you know, you are my first girl experiment” she begins waiting for you to hum before talking again. “Well to know how to do things right, I made some research and…”

“You made research?” you ask with a smile.

But Alessia frowns, slapping you softly on your arm.

“Babe, you promised!”

“I’m not making fun of you” you swear, still smiling. “I find it cute.”

Alessia groans and you giggle softly, moving a little on her to be able to kiss her cheek. She’s hot under your lips, attesting of your girlfriend’s blush. She smiles though and clear her throat nervously before talking again.

“So, like I was saying, I made some research and I saw that there is a lot of things to use when two women are, you know, having sex?”

“Yes?” you only say, not wanting to interrupt her again.

“It made me wonder if maybe you like to use them? And if what we’re making is annoying for you. And then I thought that maybe I should buy some of them, but I didn’t know which one you like, or you want?”

She stops talking, a little out of breath. She talked quickly though and that might explain that. She seems nervous so you take her hand in yours to try to sooth her a little bit.

“Ok, first, what kind of things did you see?”

Alessia blushes violently and you can’t help but smile again.

“Alessia Russo, did you watch porn?” you laugh.

“No!” she shouts, sitting up in the bed. “I went to website selling toys, I didn’t watch adult’s movies.”

You roll your eyes, asking yourself how a girl you just have sex with can be so shy about something like that. But that’s the innocent part of Alessia talking maybe. And you love it as much as you love every other part of her. You sat too when she sat up and you take support on her knees to lean on her and kiss her.

“Ok first of all, what we are doing is absolutely perfect to me. It’s special because it’s you and I love every second of it, every time even more.”

You are close to admit how much she affects you, but it’s not exactly admitting that you are in love with her for years. You want to reassure her anyway; you had your first time with someone before and you don’t want Alessia to feel insecure. Or worst, not enough.

It seems to work because she is smiling again, and you can’t resist to the want to kiss her again.

“But if you want to try some things together, we can do it too. Or if you miss something –“

“No” she cuts you, shaking her head. “I don’t miss anything I swear.”

She’s blushing again but you feel like she’s telling you the truth. When she talks again, she’s mumbling, looking at her fingers.

“It’s just that I never felt that way before and I want you to feel as good as I am.”

You could literally melt right now. You take a big breath, drawing her attention on you again.

“Lessi, you have no idea how good you make me feel. Really.”

She seems skeptical though, looking at you attentively. That girl will be the death of you.

“But I’m not experimented like the other girls you slept with” she points, frowning. “How can it be as good as you say?”

“I told you. Because it’s you.”

She looks at you for several seconds before smiling shyly, and you are smiling back. You are touched that she had this process and how much your well-being count for her. You sometimes struggle to realize that after all those years you are Alessia Russo’s… things. You really had to talk about it at some point, but the talk you’re having tonight is maybe enough for now.

“Do you want to buy some things though?” Alessia asks. “You didn’t answer about you having anything, but I don’t really want to use something you already… Well, you know.”

“I understand” you smile softly. “We’ll look together, ok?”

Laying down on the bed again, you take her in your arms this time, kissing her softly. She seems to be relaxed now and you let yourself go against Alessia’s mattress. You love sleeping here. Everything smells Alessia.

“By the way, please don’t tell Leah what we’ve done tonight. We’re not supposed to do something physically tiring the night before games.” Alessia smirks several minutes after, making you laugh.

********

You need a little bit of conviction to get up from the bed and your girlfriend embrace the day after. You are still a bit tired and it’s only the idea of Leah coming to find you both in bed because you are late that makes you get up.

“You are late” Leah grumble when you arrive with Alessia.

“Sorry, sleepyhead here had trouble getting up” Alessia smirks.

“I’m on the Spanish schedule, it’s not my fault” you yawn.

Leah don’t have time to grumble one more time, because the waitress came soon after to give you the menu to chose what to eat. You study it with seriousness, your stomach feeling a little bit empty.

“The usual Less?” the waitress asks to Alessia.

You frown, looking at your girlfriend who nod and give her menu back. Leah passes her command after her and you have to fight the strange feeling you have to ask what you want too. Leah seems to have forget about your delay when the waitress left, but you still have that mix of jealousy and discomfort. Alessia never hide what she does during her day, and she told you several time that she went to brunch or eat breakfast with some of her teammates, but you never imagined that there will be a pretty brunette who seems to know your girlfriend’s order by heart.

“I’m talking to you, Sleepy” Leah says, kicking you under the table.

“Wow, way to hurt your opponent?” you grumble while Leah rolls her eyes. “What was it again?”

“Keira. She asks me to remember to bring her Scones.”

“Oh” you smirk softly, remembering what happened in the locker room yesterday. “She told you that she knows about Alessia and I?”

You explain to Alessia yesterday what happened, and she’s smiling too. She didn’t look sad or hurt that you kind of forgot to talk about it to Keira.

“She told me she discovered because your teammates can’t keep their mouths shut” Leah smirk.

“It was Lucy to be fair.”

Leah rolls her eyes one more time while Alessia laughs, but your smile is quickly faded when the waitress is back. She once again turns in Alessia’s direction with a big smile at first, before giving Leah’s plate then yours. You don’t like the way she looks at your girlfriend or even how she smiles at her.

Your eyebrows are still frown when you look at your plate and suddenly the bacon in it doesn’t seems as yummy as it should. Being already concerned by your changing mood, Alessia discreetly take your hand in hers while Leah is concentrated in her plate.

“What’s up?” Alessia whispers.

“Nothing” you say, forcing a smile.

But that doesn’t work. Alessia frowns, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Communication, remember?”

You sigh softly. She’s right, you promised each other to always talk to the other is something is wrong. But you don’t want to do it here.

“Later, ok?”

Alessia nods, but she doesn’t let go of your hand and relax only when you start to eat. The food is delicious to be honest and you understand why Alessia keep coming here. You don’t know what you will say to her about your feelings, you feel bad at the idea of depriving her from this menu.

When you’re finish, you went right to the stadium. You follow Leah in the parking lot and then follow Alessia who introduces you to the different places and people who punctuate her training sessions. You meet almost all of her teammates too, even if you know some of them already. Like Laia Codina, who you know because she was at Barcelona and that you are happy to see again or Beth Mead with who you play for England.

You already know Lia or Jen because of Leah and you are kind of relax around the team. When they need to get training, Alessia goes with you to the friend and family section, holding your hand.

“So, what happened during the breakfast?” Alessia asks.

You sigh softly. You have forgotten that you were supposed to talk to your girlfriend about this. You look at her and she’s already looking at you, concern in her soft baby blue eyes.

“It’s nothing, it’s just… that girl from the Café? The waitress?” Alessia nods, so you continue. “She was looking at you like you are the most beautiful thing in the world and she’s right because you are, but it makes me realize that she can see you every morning if she wants to and I can’t. And that made me miss you, which is probably stupid because you were sitting right next to me, but…”

You shrug, not knowing how to end your sentence. But Alessia nods once again, seeming to understand what you were meaning. Which is already relieving at your eyes. She squeezes your hand softly before answering.

“It’s not stupid at all, I understand the feeling. I miss to have you next to me in the morning and falling asleep against you at night. I miss you almost every second of the day. But we chose to give us a chance and we knew what it would be. I’m sure it’s worth it.”

You feel your heart fluttered once again and you look around you to be sure that no one is near you, before taking her tight in your arms. She holds you as tight as you are doing, and it help you to feel better.

“I have nothing to worry about, right?” you whisper with your chin on her shoulder.

“Nothing.”

She backs her head to have a look at you and she’s smiling softly. You trust her, of course you do. She’s like the sweetest and the gentlest human being. And then she kisses you, not long but softly.

When Alessia left you in the family and friend section, you go to look for your seat, but you are soon spotted by Amanda, Leah’s mom. She waves at you and makes sign for you to come to her, which you do because no one can refuse anything to Leah’s mum.

“Hi darling!” she says happily when you are at her level. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, uh…” you mumble while she hugs you.

“Leah told me why you’re here, but don’t worry your secret is safe with me.”

She smiles at you, taping your cheek in a motherly way before making you sit next to her. You recognize next to her Leah’s nan, who you salute too. Amanda looks at your shirt, raising an eyebrow.

“Not wearing an Arsenal jersey?”

“Alexia would probably kill me if I do something like this” you laugh. “Maybe she would make an exception for Alessia’s, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why that? Everyone seems to think that Less and you are good friends.”

Amanda seems to know what happened in the social media, with the video of you going to recomfort Alessia after the finale in Australia. Everyone said how much you are a good friend, choosing to make your friend’s feelings better rather than being focused on yours.

“I’ll think about it for the next time” you promise.

“Great. In the meantime, wear this.”

Without letting you the time to look at what it exactly was, Amanda put one Arsenal scarf on your shoulders. Leah’s face is print on it, and if you don’t see at least one twitt or one TikTok editing you with your friend, it would be a miracle.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

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padfootagain · 3 months ago

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Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

#hozier #the hoziest #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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thewulf · 1 year ago

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May I Kiss You? || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - But a story where it’s Jake x reader and she’s in the dagger squad and her and Nat are like “one of the guys” and reader hates it cause she likes Jake (Jake likes her too) but she thinks he sees her as manly and everything... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhhh this was so much fun to write. I love a sweet af Jake. A good hurt/comfort if you will!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.0k +

“Nat, this is too much.” You checked yourself out in the floor-length mirror feeling terribly self-conscious in the skintight gold lacy mini dress she’d picked out for you. You’d never been one to show off and this dress was showing off everything, not much was left to the imagination. You felt like your boobs were spilling out and the cutouts left little to guess about.

She shook her head, “No it’s not! You look hot as fuck Bee.” She grinned checking you out without shame, “Besides, it’s just for a couple drinks then we’re going to the show. It’s not like we’re dressing up for the guys.” You’d earned your callsign, Bee, after not shutting the fuck up about bumblebees and why we needed to save them. Needless to say, you’d gotten the guys to plant wildflowers everywhere they could and trees where they shouldn’t. What could you say? You were convincing.

“No, you look hot.” You pointed to her even tighter red dress that looked rocking on her olive skin. Not much would look bad on Nat though, she could rock pretty much anything you were convinced, “I look so fucking out of place.” You sighed in defeat.

“Shut up Y/N. Seriously, you look really good. Jake won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” She grinned knowing how to push your buttons perfectly.

“He will not. He doesn’t notice me at all.” You frowned, “I’m just one of the guys to him.” You wished it didn’t affect you so deeply but here you stood. Sad and upset.

She laughed, laughed of all things, “You really have no idea do you?” She quirked her eyebrow up in the most Natasha way possible. Basically, calling you a dumbass right to your face without outright saying it.

“Don’t put these thoughts into my head Nat!” You groaned careful not to smear the makeup you’d just spent far too much applying.

She punched your shoulder lightly, “Come on Bee. Think about it. He goes out of his way to sit next to you in class. He basically demands you be his wizzo. Jake Seresin has never had a wizzo before. He rushes to sit next to you at lunch… honey he likes you. Maybe even loves you.” She smirked knowing that’d truly get through to you.

You pursed your lips thinking it through, “So?”

She laughed, “Stop deflecting. He doesn’t act that way with me. Or Halo. He’s simply obsessed with you darling. He’s going to lose it when he sees you in that number tonight.”

You groaned again, another fresh set of butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not?” She turned towards you.

“He’s literally never seen me in anything other than a military issued uniform Nat. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?” You were letting your nerves get the better of you. You knew you were being irrational.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes right in your face, “Well he’d be a fucking idiot then, wouldn’t he?”

When you walked in you made a beeline straight towards the bar. Not having a damn clue you’d drawn the eyes of the blonde pilot you’d grown to adore in your time back at Top Gun. The two of you just clicked. Two peas in a pod. He made you feel safe. You made him feel comfortable.

He, quite literally, couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Nat noticed. You didn’t. She’d make sure to point that out to you later.

Nat had to pull you away from the bar

Payback whistled when the two of you finally made it over, “Don’t you two look lovely. A little overdressed.” He quipped, digging a little?

Nat roller her eyes, “We’re going to a play after this.

“Would you look what he cat dragged in.” Bradley spoke up setting his drink down and taking a seat across from you, leaving the seat next to you for Jake whenever he wanted to join the group. Little did you know he was stalling because you quite literally took his breath away. He didn’t know how to not look like a dumbass in front of you.

“How nice Roos.” You rolled your eyes feeling yourself ease at the boys casual banter with the two of you. They weren’t making your feel great but not like shit either. Classic men.

He sighed, “You both look pretty. It’s just weird. We’re not used to seeing you guys look like women.”

You smiled, “I said the same thing!”

Nat groaned, “Please don’t encourage her boys.”

Jake then joined sliding in next to you giving you a soft smile before turning his attention towards Rooster across from you. He was trying his damnedest to not start right at you. You smelled beyond incredible it took all his damn willpower not to scoop you right on up for himself, simply irresistible.

The conversation flowed before Nat tapped her watch letting you know it was nearly time to go. You nodded in understanding trying to hurry up and finish your drink.

“Bagman you’ve been awfully quite.” Nat smirked trying to draw something out of the lovestruck man knowing it was her last chance for the night.

But the words that came out surprised even his fellow pilots who made light-hearted jokes, “Mama always said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” Bob’s wide eyes said it all for the men in the group. That was just mean and so wholeheartedly untrue.

Your heart dropped immediately, was that how he really felt? You didn’t think you were ugly but damn did that comment dig deep. The rest of the group must’ve felt the tension growing between the two of you as they scattered instead of hyping the conversation up.

Nodding your head, you set your glass down on the nearest table, “I think we were ready to go, right Nat? Don’t want to get there late, they might not let us into the play.” Laughing nervously, you gave your friend the wide eyes indicating you needed to get the hell out of that bar, now.

“Yeah, you’re right Bee. We gotta get going.” She set her glass down too, “Later boys.” The two of you waved as you walked out right on out of the bar without a second glance and to her car.

When you got inside the safety of her vehicle you sighed pressing yourself back into your seat wishing it would just eat you alive, “That was mortifying Nat.”

She hummed in agreement, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Let me talk to him okay?”

But your groan indicated you did not really agree with her, no, “Nat, just leave it alone. He clearly doesn’t have feelings. He wouldn’t have been so fucking brutal tonight if he did.”

She shook her head while navigating through traffic, “He was just trying to look cool in front of his buddies. You know how men are. Irrational.” She tried leveling with you. You knew the argument was moot anyway, neither of you would give in. Never.

You sighed, “Whatever you say Nat.”

A knock on your front door woke you from the light sleep you’d fallen into while watching football on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You tried ignoring it, but the person kept knocking. Definitely not a delivery driver.

Pulling yourself up from the couch you swung open the door surprised to see the blonde pilot on the other side of the entryway. Your heart starting racing and your mouth suddenly felt very dry.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” Your wide eyes and defensive stance let him know how badly he’d fucked up. All that time he’d spent with you seemed to be flushed down the drain at a stupid half-brained comment he didn’t even really mean.

“I’m here to apologize.” He stepped forward.

“Oh.” You were a little confused. He’d seemed so adamant about he felt not moments ago.

You looked like a deer struck by headlights. Jake nudged your side trying to draw you out of your head, “Can I?” He asked.

“Do what?”

He frowned, “Apologize?” Did Nat put him up to this? Was it some sort of stupid, sick joke?

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. It felt awkward. So, unlike any other time you’d been with him. This felt forced. Uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry. I did not mean what I said. You have to believe me Bee. Please.” He went to grab your hand and you let him, he seemed sincere, “I got caught up in the moment. The guys were teasing me before you two got there looking as good as you did. And Jesus, did you look good Y/N. I just wanted them off my back and I took it out on you. And that isn’t right.” He grabbed your chin with his other hand seeing your eyes well up with a fresh set of tears that threatened to spill over.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry beautiful. Please. You have to know how highly I think of you. You’re everything and more love. Smarter than any woman or man I’ve met. Quicker than any pilot in the air. Prettier than any girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re it Y/N.” He whispered. That was all it took to in cry even though he asked you not to. This was the Jake you were used to. The Jake back at the bar was more like Hangman, an utter fucking dick. This was Jake. Your favorite sweet boy Jake. The one you’d fallen madly in love with over the years.

See you and Jake met at your first go around at Top Gun years prior. Jake had always had a soft spot for you. Especially after you waxed his ass so flawlessly in the air. It took him months to find a way to beat you. When he did you have him a high five. The competitiveness didn’t matter, your colleague was getting better. That meant better for everybody in the field.

But you were never available. Whether it was your long-term shithead of a boyfriend from college or some random fling the timing just never worked out. Then you were shipped off to the other side of the country and you lost touch.

Jake about lost his mind when he spotted you sitting next to Natasha the night before the first day at the Hard Deck. Rubbed his eyes and all, you just didn’t seem real. When he went up to talk to you he was quite frankly shocked to find you without a rock on your finger. You were a fucking catch, why weren’t you taken? It really confused him when he learned you were single. He was ashamed of the male population. But it meant one thing. Jake could focus on you and only you now. He didn’t need to fuck around with these meaningless one-night stands. He could find meaning with you.

When he wrapped his arms around you it just felt right. Even if you were upset with him you couldn’t help but to melt right into his loving embrace. You just felt so whole. So protected and secure. Like he’d never even let a bad thought cross your mind. But it was never suffocating. It was just right. Everything you needed when you asked. Jake was special and you knew it. You’d never let one little slip up crack the foundation the two of you had so delicately been pouring for the last few years.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled when you pulled away from his chest.

Jake frowned deeply. Using both his hands his pushed your wild hair away from your face, “What are you apologizing for sweetheart?”

You let out a breath trying to regain your normality, “Crying. Messing up your shirt.”

“You have to know I don’t give a damn about that Y/N. Are you okay?” He placed his palm on your cheek wrapping his fingers around your head gently. You nuzzled into him out of habit.

Closing your eyes you nodded towards him, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re here.” You admitted softly.

Using his other hand, he pulled you back into his embrace. He brought your head into his chest, “I’m so sorry lovie. You looked so stunning in that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Payback said I was literally drooling.” He chuckled squeezing you softly.

You were enjoying every second of this sweetness between you and him. You’d learned slowly how he loved, through touch. He needed this as much as you did. As touch adverse as you’d been when you’d met him you’d grown to crave his every touch. Anytime, anywhere you’d let him grab ahold of you. You didn’t care, you wanted it more than anything. It blew your mind how he had changed you so wholly in that regard.

“It’s okay Jake.” You kissed his chest through his clothing. Something so innocent but sent him into a damn frenzy. He’d never had anybody do something quite so… sweet? Intimate? Love on him the way he wanted?

He knew it was officially over for him the moment you did that. Something you’d likely never remember doing but was now officially seared into his brain for forever, not that he was complaining. No, not at all.

“How’d I get so lucky to find somebody like you?”

You shook your head in his embrace, “Shush.”

He smiled knowing how hard it was to give you a damn compliment. Something he was going to work on with you. He knew he needed to do something major to really let you know how he felt, or you’d never believe it. He was tired of waiting. Tired of seeing you slip right through his grasp.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked knowing you’d never expect what was going to come out of his mouth next.

He wasn’t sure if was going to be able to tell you before he melted into a puddle seeing your sweet little doe eyes looking up at him, waiting, “Anything Jake. You know that.”

He tightened his hold around your waist before letting it all out, “You really are the most beautiful woman I know Y/N, inside and out. Fucking stunning. And you… you are so easy to love.” He smiled seeing your gaze on him, soaking in every single word, “What I’m trying to say is, I love you.” His thumb rubbed the skin where your shirt rode up sending shivers throughout your body.

“You what?” Your eyes widened as big as saucers as your voice raised an octave or two, certainly not expecting that confession.

“I love you.” He smiled, the words spilling out of his mouth much more freely than before. It felt fucking freeing to him to admit that to you.

Your eyes darted around his face before landing on his green ones. His beautiful green eyes, “You do?”

His smile could’ve melted you as equally as you seemed to be able to melt him, “I do. Very much so.” You not immediately darting away was a good sign. He could tell it was just taking you some time to process what the hell he’d just dropped into your lap.

“Oh, wow.” Biting your lip, you really tried of something better to say but that’s all that came to your mind.

He continued grinning seeing your brain short circuiting. You were rather expressive with your features, and he could see the confusion rise and fall. Adorable as ever. One of the many reasons he loved you so deeply, “Have I not made it obvious?” He asked, his smirk would’ve knocked you out had you not been clinging to him.

“I…” You paused realizing he had made it rather obvious. He called you lovie for God’s sake. Nat was right you were just blind to it. Not believing Jake could have actual feelings for you. You too had fought them off for years. You wanted him more than ever when you broke up with the douche bag all those years ago. But Jake was at a different stage in his life, or so you thought. He was bringing home random girls while you wanted a steady partner. It seemed incompatible. Had you actually talked though you would’ve learned he was just distracting himself from you. Two fucking idiots.

“Go on.” Jake urged you on, giving your hip a light squeeze.

You laughed softly letting the blush coat your cheeks for him to see. You didn’t have much to hide anyway, “I guess you have. I just haven’t noticed.” Smiling sheepishly, you added, “I am oblivious, you know that.”

He laughed pulling you fully into him, “You are lovie. You really are.” He kissed the crown of your head relishing in the moment. The pure simplicity of the moment made him feel the best he had in quite a long time.

“Jake?” You asked softly. Were you going to admit it to? Did you love him? That was easy, hell yeah you loved him. You’d loved him for a long time too. He showed you what a man was like. How a boyfriend should treat a girl. How to be loved. It was him. It was always going to be him. Your Jake.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He looked down using his free hand to stroke your hair. He didn’t really give a damn if you were going to say it back. You staying with him, letting him hold you was more than enough. It was all he needed.

But you had different plans. You were going to tell him. Had to tell him, “I love you too.”

His eyebrows rose in clear shock, “You do?” This time he was questioning you like he couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. Certainly not prepared for that.

“I do. A whole lot.” You giggled feeling that same weight releasing off your chest.

He grinned hearing those words and that joyous sound, “Well that calls for one thing then.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

He smirked, eyes darkening just a shade, “May I kiss you love?

You nodded quickly before you could back out, “Please.” A sinful look crossed his face before he grabbed your face in his hands so gently it sent another shiver down your spine.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove

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signanothername · 6 months ago

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HEYO, do you think your Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare would ever have moments of his past self just...idk how to word it rn, just like he slips back. He's there. Something that Nightmare wouldn't normally do, but just this once or twice?

Whether it's drawing the line at children. Killers can kill them. Nightmare would prefer to not....just, something about it is a little too similar for his liking. And if Killer asks, the answer is just 'I have standards' or something to try and cover it up?

Or, maybe a rare 'olive branch' between him and Dream? Perhaps he remembers a small detail and does something nice for once, even if it's a small thing, before going back to his bitchy self? Like, a tiny piece of candy Dream used to like. Or a moment of 'that's MY brother asshole', even if Nightmare still a piece of shit?

Or, not even a moments. What about small mannerisms he has from before, that he doesn't even realize he still has? Maybe it's posture. Maybe it's the way he tilts his head when listening or curious(as a child, it was much more innocent compared to now).

Just a thought I wanted your opinion on!

Hello!! Glad to see you in my inbox again! :D

That’s it Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare is what I’m calling him from now on chchhcchhc /hj

Ok thank you for asking that cause i wanted to ramble about how i view Nightmare for a long time and now the time has come, cause i usually talk about him in fragments, bits and pieces here and there, never fully diving into his personality as a whole

Thing is, corrupted or not, i like to believe he’s still Nightmare y’know? Beneath all that bitchiness, he’s still the same quiet loner little guy that was just never dealt a fair hand by life

I have talked before very quickly about how i think Nightmare has moments of kindness

And even talked a bit in depth about why i think Nightmare is extremely bitchy

And you better believe i love to think Nightmare has those little moments in which he has a kind thought that just seems out of character for him, but it’s truly not, it’s just that little guy inside is still there, it’s just harder for Nightmare to truly think clearly with all the corruption that consumes him

Not only that but i absolutely love to think a lot of his habits are still the same, maybe developed or slightly changed but still very much the same

and i even sketched a few sketches concerning these two points, i just never shared them

In the first sketch, Nightmare is thinking about bringing Killer to Ccino’s Cat cafe, bringing killer to the cafe has no benefit to Nightmare whatsoever, it only serves to make Killer happy (something that completely opposes Nightmare’s goal of spreading negativity) yet he still thought about it, it’s just one of those moments where his little guy self just shines through

In the second sketch, it shows a lil headcanon of mine that Nightmare never broke a habit (and even something of a coping mechanism /comfort) of finding a tree to sit by when he reads, it helps clear his head, and i like to fully believe Nightmare doesn’t truly realize he does this cause it reminds him of better simpler times when he was just a happy content child reading a book under his mom’s leaves

That aside, sometimes i love to include little details in my art that people usually don’t really notice most the time, one little detail is that i love to have Dream and Nightmare grip their clothes as a child would when they are distressed (especially if it’s specifically anxiety/fear)

That’s just plays into a little headcanon of mine that it’s a habit Dream and Nightmare had since childhood and neither of them broke it, nor they’re ever gonna truly break it, what I’m saying is Nightmare’s child-like behavior is very prominent when he’s distressed, and i love to think so cause Nightmare is first and foremost, a wounded fearful lonely child, someone who’s inner child never healed, so when things scare or distress him, his inner child just takes over and such habits make themselves known

To me Nightmare is still Nightmare, it’s just that the corruption has taken over and made his pain worse and by extension he wants to let that pain out by inflecting it on others, all while not truly realizing that he does it to let his own pain out, in fact, I wholeheartedly believe that if someone (say Killer for example) kept pressing him by questions as to why he does what he does, eventually Nightmare would hit a wall only to realize “huh… why am i doing this?” Cause Nightmare would never settle for a bitchy answer like “why not?” It’s beneath him

Not only that but i fully believe Nightmare can get those moments of weakness in which the past just eats away at him, something I sketched for too :’)

And when it comes to Dream, he definitely has those moments of hesitation that he himself doesn’t fully understand, he fully believes that he doesn’t care for Dream at all, even tho it’s not true

I even talked about Dream and Nightmare coexisting before

And even this animatic, in which Nightmare (while being unphased/ unresponsive to Dream’s affection at first) still allowed Dream to show him his affection and let Dream hug him, only to return it by a very subtle head tilt leaning towards Dream before returning to his bitchy self

And I even wanna bring attention to this lil comic (and the ramble I made in the reblog about it dhhxhx) cause I feel like it also explores Nightmare’s fears to an extent

Fears of feeling weak, cause Nightmare definitely developed the mindset that the strong devours the weak, i like to think Nightmare hates feeling weak cause who would protect him but himself?

That being said, he maybe a bitch, but he’s also a deeply traumatized individual with an inner child who’s in dire need to heal, my man needs therapy and love <33333

#enjoy the ramble vjvjvjvjvh #anothers ask #ano saves asks #anothers art #dreamtale #nightmare #nightmare sans

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hunnysnoops · 9 months ago

Text

South Park Music HCs

What music I think the South Park characters would listen to.

Stan ✰ Kyle ✰ Kenny ✰ Cartman ✰ Wendy ✰ Bebe ✰ Heidi ✰ Tweek ✰ Craig ✰ Butters

With Spotify links!

Stan Marsh

Artists:

Radio Head

Siouxsie and the Banshees

Crywank

She Wants Revenge

System Of a Down

Slipknot

The Front Bottoms

Favourite Songs:

Atoma- Dark Tranquillity

Smokey Eyes- Lincoln

F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X- The Fall of Troy

Mr Grieves- Pixies

Misc:

Generally angsty

Gets embarrassed of his taste when he’s put on aux

He probably likes 90s dad rock

Whenever Stan listens to ‘System of a Down’ Cartman calls him ‘Syndrome of a Down’

Likes The Front Bottoms purely because he relates

Kyle Broflovski

Artists:

Dan Mangan

The Cure

Echo & the Bunnyman

Blur

Weezer

Billy Idol

Favourite Songs:

I Love You- Fontaines D.C.

Troubled Mind- Dan Mangan

The Killing Moon- Echo & the Bunnymen

Jumping Someone Else’s Train- The Cure

Candy- Paolo Nutini

Misc:

Cartman calls him a virgin for listening to Weezer

If he’s playing his music around you, he’ll sneak glances at you to see if you like it

Definitely has a poster for The Cure in his bedroom

Refuses to use Bluetooth headphones

Kenny McCormick

Artists:

Eminem

Outkast

Ini Kamoze

Car Seat Headrest

Cypress Hill

Limp Bizkit

Green Day

Favourite Songs:

Hits from the Bong- Cypress Hill

Sexy Drug- Falling in Reverse

Deadlines (Hostile)- Car Seat Headrest

Take A Look Around- Limp Bizkit

Misc:

Watches clips of Woodstock 99 on YouTube

Plays his music so loud that it spills through his headphones and gets weird looks for it

Listens to Taylor Swift and Sabrina Carpenter with his little sister

Eric Cartman

Kanye West

T-Pain

Lady Gaga (we all saw this coming)

Rihanna

Black Eyed Peas

Oliver Tree

Pitbull

Favourite Songs:

Church- T-Pain, Teddy Verseti

Meet Me Halfway- Black Eyed Peas

I Can’t Stop- Will Smith

Bury Me Alive- Oliver Tree

Happiness is a Butterfly- Lana Del Rey

Misc:

Strikes me as the type of guy who doesn’t really listen to music

Unironically likes Oliver Tree (His music and him as a person)

Rips on everyone for their music but won’t tell them who he listens to

Lip syncs to Wiz Khalifa while flexing in the mirror

Listens to T-Pain and Will Smith to make him feel tough

Prefers podcasts

Wendy Testaburger

Artists:

The Shins

Gwen Stefani

Hozier

Grizzly Bear

Nelly Furtado

Olivia Rodrigo

Elliot Smith

Favourite Songs:

Swan Upon Leda- Hozier

Lacy- Olivia Rodrigo

Stand By Me- Ben E.King

Vienna- Billy Joel

Pocketful of Sunshine- Natasha Bedingfield

Misc:

Thunder makes her think of stan so she skips it

Relates to Vienna and probably got a small tattoo for it after she graduated

Probably has an eclectic taste and loves 2010s pop

Lets everyone else play their music while she’s driving and never complains

Stares at her ceiling and listens to Elliot Smith when she’s sad

Gets ready listening to y2k pop songs

Bebe Stevens

Artists:

Jungle

Wild Belle

Dominic Fike

Kesha

Avril Lavigne

Justin Bieber (baby era)

MGMT

Favourite Songs:

Feet Don’t Fail Me Now- Joy Crookes

Back On 74- Jungle

Memory Box- Peter Cat Recording Co.

Keep You- Wild Belle

Beauty And A Beat- Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj

Ur So Gay- Katy Perry

Misc:

Hates sad music, she’ll force herself to listen to USHER during a breakdown

Picky about her music, if someone plays a song she doesn’t like she’ll definitely skip it or complain until someone else does

Mentioned she liked Justin Bieber and then got in an argument with Cartman because of it

Never lets Clyde near the speaker

Screams Ur So Gay at the top of her lungs when it comes on

Heidi Turner

Artists:

Jack Johnson

Syd Matters

Daughter

Fleet Foxes

Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Noah Kahan

Of Monsters and Men

Favourite Songs:

Open Season- High Highs

To All of You- Syd Matters

Two Weeks- Grizzly Bear

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing- Jack Johnson

Sisyphus- Andrew Bird

Blue Ridge Mountains- Fleet Foxes

Misc:

Loves going for walks while she listens to music

Sends you songs that remind her of you

Listens to every song you send her and tells you what she likes about it

Hums when she has her headphones in without realising

Her and all of her friends love Noah Kahan

Tweek Tweak

Artists:

Billie Holiday

Billie Marten

Johann Sebastian Bach

Claude Debussy

Ludwig van Beethoven

Foals

Connie Francis

Favourite Songs:

Who’s Sorry Now- Connie Francis

Cello Suite No. 1 in G Minor- Johann Sebastian Bach

Méditation from Thaïs- Jules Massenet

Bad Apple- Billie Marten

The Lark Ascending- Ralph Vaughan Williams

Misc:

I actually think he would hater Hyper-Pop

Prefers slow/classical/instrumental songs

Listens to a lot of white noise, really specific ones like ‘Heavy Rain in Autumn Fairy Forest 9 hours’

Musical prodigy, plays piano and cello

Craig Tucker

Artists:

Nirvana

Hole

No Doubt

Foo Fighters

Pulp

Arcade Fire

Jeff Buckley

Favourite Songs:

Common People- Pulp

Malmo- Mook

Forget Her- Jeff Buckley

The Pretender-Foo Fighters

Dumb- Nirvana

Misc:

Made one playlist in eighth grade and never listens to anything else

Thinks Courtney Love killed Kurt Cobain

Hates TikTok music, like genuinely.

Somewhat of a gatekeeper

Butters Stotch

Artists:

She & Him

Blonde

Kate Bush

Dolly Parton

Regina Spector

The La’s

The Mama’s and the Papa’s

Favourite Songs:

You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine- Lou Rawls

In the Summertime- Mungo Jerry

Hey, Lucky Lady- Dolly Parton

The Tide is High- Blondie

Why Do You Let Me Stay Here- She & Him

Don’t Let The Good Life Pass You By- Cass Elliot

Clay Pigeons- Michael Cera

Misc:

Songs absentmindedly all the time, annoys the hell out of everyone

Quotes the songs he listens to

Developed choreography in middle school and still remembers it

Asks people if they’ve heard a super popular song that’s all over the radio and social media out of genuine curiosity

Anyways, that’s all I got for now. Re log or comment what you think they’d listen to bc I’m genuinely curious, thanks for reading!

Also it literally took hours to add all of those Spotify links so I hope you got something out of this! they wouldn’t let me add more than 100 :/

#south park #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #stan marsh #wendy testaburger #bebe stevens #heidi turner #craig tucker #tweek tweak #butters stotch #kenny mccormick #headcanon #south park kyle #south park x y/n #south park x reader #south park headcanons #kyle south park #south park hcs

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dootznbootz · 7 days ago

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I just wanted to say your Penelope/odypen content is so comforting to me. Especially when I see really bad Epic/the Odyssey takes. Just today I saw someone say that Penelope was Odysseus’s second choice after Helen and it made me SO MAD!! Like not only is it devaluing their connection (as if there isn’t an entire word made to describe it) but saying that Helen was “out of Odysseus’s league” feels insulting to both? Like not only is Odysseus not enough but Penelope is also the lesser of two options. As if she couldn’t be amazing on her own. I love your takes and how they’re both equals in the relationship. Penelope isn’t just some prize Odysseus comes home too.

Sorry for the rant, but I really love your content!

AAAA thank you so much 😭 I'm so honored that you find my silly goobers comforting!!! 🥹

And I totally get what you mean with like, bad takes!!! ;~; Like folks getting all weird with Odysseus wanting Helen first and/or HELEN wanting Odysseus first (as though Helen didn't see that big, autistic, blond man with big, brown eyes and didn't immediately think "MINE!" Childhood friend like in my stuff or not)

I've seen folks try to say that Odysseus made the olive tree bed with HELEN in mind which...No. Olives are Athena's thing and Athena watches over BOTH Penelope and Odysseus. Why would he do that for Helen??? Like, in my stuff I have it where it's like 3-4 months between the Oath of Tyndareus and Odysseus asking for Penelope's and the race with Icarius, so Odysseus was on Ithaca carving it for Penelope during that time for her. (Icarius being snarky as well to be like "hey, I'll even let you get some practice time.")

Like, Helen IS wonderful. She's my silly, sparky girl. <3 but yeah, My guy is ace/demi and didn't feel anything with Helen in that way. (Helen has an "aura" about her but Odysseus didn't feel it romantically/sexually. They're friends. He just thought "waow. O_O You're cool/have freaky eyes...Anyways~ Could you be my wingwoman for Penelope? Please?")

#penelope of ithaca #odysseus #odypen #penelope #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #ask #anon #Thank you again!!! :D <3 I'm sorry this took a bit to get to!!! ;~; been a quite busy and funky in general but it still means a lot to me #and made my day as soon as I got it🥹#My headcanons

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 2 months ago

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I really love how you draw Karkat and Calliope. You've already talked about how the other relationships within the POABPCL, so I was wondering if you could talk about Callikar in more depth as well.

Heehee okay so the short reasoning is that first of all, Karkat is also highly reminiscent of Caliborn, so there's Calliope's natural attraction there. But also Calliope desperately wants to experience a flushed romance, and Karkat is a crazy person who can't keep his quadrants straight. Which, for Calliope, would actually be a plus instead of a minus????

But yeah, for the Caliborn similarities, apart from the grey text and (mostly) capital letters and general cantankerousness and candy red blood and random textual callbacks to shit Karkat says:

CG: OK I DON'T SEE HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH LIKE I'M WIGGLING A GNARLED TREE MONSTER'S DICK IN YOUR DIRECTION. [...] uu: HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS. IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH. uu: LIKE I'M FLAILING A WITHERED MUMMY'S SEVERED LIMB IN YOUR DIRECTION.

CG: THE FACT THAT YOU ARE DUMB CG: IS AN IMMUTABLE FACT I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. CG: IT DOES NOT MEAN ANIMOSITY IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE. [...] uu: AND THE FACT THAT I MIGHT NOT CLuE YOu INTO YOuR FATE ALL THE TIME. uu: DuE TO MY AGGRAVATED APATHY OVER THE MATTER. uu: IS AN IMMuTABLE FACT. I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. uu: IT DOES NOT MEAN THAT GIVING A SHIT IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE.

Did you know they both weirdly have a thing for right angles?

DAVE: i dont want to see your lines making any right angles do you understand KARKAT: IN MY MIND'S EYE I AM PICTURING A BEAUTIFUL LATTICE OF LINES AND COMPARTMENTS, INTERLOCKING WITH SUBLIME PRECISION AT NINETY DEGREE ANGLES. KARKAT: I IMAGINE THIS MODULAR RETICULATION AS AN ELEGANT VESSEL, IF YOU WILL, FOR THE GRAND SYNTHESIS OF OUR SHARED SHIPPING DREAMS.

So yeah, you know, they've got some similarities! Enough to fuel some initial cherubic romantic interest, I feel.

But obviously, cherubic romance is primarily - if not exclusively - pitch. Calliope expresses this in a way that makes it very much sound like it's a setup that her happy ending does, in fact, involve her finding a matesprit.

UU: thoUgh i trUly wish i were capable of those feelings. UU: perhaps the fact that i am not is why the topic fascinates me so. UU: and why i have been prone do indUlge in sUch... UU: fancifUl visUalizations. UU: of yoUr people's lovely bright red relationships. UU: they mUst be nice. u_u

Personally, I think that cherubs "can't experience redrom" the way humans "can't experience blackrom". In that, y'know. ;)

But let's move from Calliope's side from a moment and talk about Karkat. Hey, do y'all remember how he had a crush on a different Space player? (The fact that Karkat actually totally had a crush on Jade, and continued to think incredibly fondly of her for years after the fact, to the point of using one of her passwords as the password to his dream hive, gets lost in the melange of ~yaoi~ is honestly one of the reasons I'm not a fan of DaveKat).

CCG: I'M GOING TO VOMIT. CCG: I'M MAKING A MENTAL NOTE TO SLAP MYSELF THREE HOURS FROM NOW, FOR BEING ENOUGH OF A SAP TO START DEVELOPING RED FEELINGS FOR A DUMB ANNOYING HUMAN, IF I'M READING BETWEEN THE LINES CORRECTLY. FCG: I JUST SLAPPED MYSELF! I REMEMBERED MY LAME NOTE TO MYSELF FROM THREE HOURS AGO, AND THEN SLAPPED MYSELF SPECIFICALLY TO MOCK YOU. FCG: IT STINGS TOO, YOU'LL FEEL IT IN A WHILE. AND THEN THE GHOST OF PAST ME WILL CRY.

Hussie's commentary on this is also fucking hilarious, by the way:

First, by defending Jade like this, Future Karkat is virtually making the case to his own past self to give her a chance, and to try to acknowledge that his aggression toward her is masking romantic attraction. If that wasn't nuts enough, the altercation doubles as an actual confession of this to Jade, which she now has to bear in mind as she goes forward befriending this guy. Like most other shouting matches Karkat has with himself, it's a complete free-for-all of self-owns and eyebrow-raising psychological revelations. And yet, in the totality of this clusterfuck, it's probably about as sufficient as anything else he could have done to get her to start giving the friendship a chance. How do you sidle out of something like this? You don't. This miserable basket case needs all the help he can get.

But this is another example of Karkat's horrible problem with mixing his quadrants and sending out all sorts of mixed signals, which he lambastes himself for later RE: Terezi.

FCG: IS IT?? TELL ME, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU TREATED HER IN A WAY THAT COULD BE OBJECTIVELY CONSTRUED AS A FORM OF BLACK SOLICITATION? CCG: THAT'S JUST CCG: NO, THAT'S HOW WE'VE ALWAYS ROLLED TOGETHER. IT'S LIKE CCG: SPIRITED PLATONIC CONTENTION. CCG: TOTALLY NORMAL TERRITORY IN A HEALTHY MATESPRITSHIP. FCG: YEAH, A *HEALTHY* ONE, NOT ONE INVOLVING A DEMENTED LOUDMOUTH WHO CAN'T KEEP HIS SHIT UNDER CONTROL. FCG: LET ME ASK YOU, HOW MUCH OF THAT ANIMOSITY IS INNOCENT "PLATONIC RAGE"? FCG: COULD IT BE THAT SUBCONSCIOUSLY YOU WANT TO PUSH THINGS WITH HER ONTO CALIGINOUS TURF, MAYBE SEE HOW THINGS WORK OUT THERE? FCG: SEE IF YOU CAN HAVE YOUR GRUB, AND CULL IT TOO?? FCG: THAT WAY YOU HAVE HER ALL TO YOURSELF!

And even his "confession" to jade has shades of this, as he basically forced her to auspicetize between himself and... himself. Just a really messy guy who can't keep his quadrants straight. I've already talked before about how this would be completely fine for Eridan, who is literally too bad at social shit to notice and is just happy for the attention, but... doesn't that seem like it would work for Calliope, whose fundamental attraction model is based in pitch?

And to really get into this, we should also talk about Karkat's taste in movies. The three posters he has hanging up in his room are for Serendipity, Hitch, and 50 First Dates. Between the three of them, it becomes really clear that Karkat is really into the idea of soul mates - of finding a romantic partner that just kind of perfectly clicks with you and all your idiosyncracies, with whom the romance is natural, and brings out the best in both partners.

Serendipity most obviously, as the entire movie is practically a treatise on destiny and fate (and also, if you're only going to watch one, watch this one - it gets namedropped twice in the comic and I genuinely think HS draws like 30% of its DNA from it). Hitch's A-plot couple is widely considered the worse one, but the B-plot couple turn out to be perfect for each other - all the guy's lame, embarrassing aspects just happen to be what she finds adorable, and he just needed a courage boost and chance to be noticed by her. And 50 First Dates features a guy in Hawaii who loves taking visiting tourists on whirlwind romances, but is terrified of commitment, meeting a girl who can't make new memories - functionally rendering every date their first from her perspective - and it's really sweet. It doesn't even make you want to punch Adam Sandler at all. Like, not even a little bit.

In any case, what this says to me is that, while he still needs to undergo character development to be ready for it, the romance Karkat should eventually end up with is one where he doesn't have to compromise who he is, warts and all.

A lot of Karkat's more common fandom pairings tend to downplay, or even outright forget about, how genuinely uncomfortable it is to experience Karkat's nutso vascillation. Even if the edge is taken off via moirallegiance, Karkat is still the sort of messy guy who tells his flushed crush to "set the table on [his] bulge for their candle light hate date." Jade clearly isn't a fan of being treated rudely, while Terezi eventually gets driven off by the mixed signals he puts off... but what if there was a species who primarily experiences pitch attraction, who would find Karkat's frequent dips into black-coded flirtation hot?

And also... Karkat is obviously Calliope's favorite character troll...I mean, she's got his symbol as her cufflinks. And also:

CG: I THINK THIS SUBJECT IS BEYOND A LOT OF PEOPLE'S GRASP BUT I KNOW A LOT ABOUT IT, NOBODY EVER REALLY WANTS TO TALK TO ME ABOUT IT THOUGH. AG: Whoa really? Oh no shit, REALLY???????? CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY. CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE. CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

And:

UU: actUally, i have written hUndreds of pages examining the striking differences between hUman and troll romance, as well as reprodUctive habits, as the comparison makes for a marveloUs case stUdy in xenobiocUltUral differences. UU: as long as i am sharing specUlation with yoU, perhaps yoU woUld like to read my essays? UU: i coUld even paste each page right here in sUccession, and allow yoU to read them back to back to back to back to back to back! ^u^ TT: Oh hell no. UU: ah. UU: yes, yoU're right of coUrse. i'm probably getting carried away as UsUal. UU: forgive my enthUsiasm, it's jUst that i so rarely have anyone to talk to who shares my passion for these matters.

They could both be SO ANNOYING about quadrants and romance together. It would be beautiful.

#homestuck #karkat vantas #calliope #calliope homestuck #callikat #and i personally think that it's like #pretty poignant for both karkat and eridan #the two most romantically hopeless trolls #but karkat especially as the trolls' leader and The Romance Troll #to not have his concupiscents filled until he gets to the new session #like just from a meta perspective there's this weird satisfaction to the idea that #paradox space had their perfect matches waiting for them this whole time #but they needed to cross two universes to reach them #that there was this grand and cosmic plan to bring them all happiness and love at the end of their grand voyage #which is a Very Serendipity thing to do #oh yeah also standard disclaimer #i dont care what you ship and im not interested in making anyone else ship this #be free be wild death of the author etc. etc.#this is just my own subjective opinion and it's literally not that serious

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kus-babygirl · 7 days ago

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Okay, here it is, a one shot fic, I said I would write for Karl as Santa from Violent Night, but I went with Billy Butcher, (For a change, it is a Alternate Universe from The Boys) I hope you all like it. I absolutely enjoyed writing it. And a massive thank you to @enchantedflameandflower for editing this for me. You are a literally angel 😇 (Yes, I did create the picture myself)

A Christmas Fairytale in New York (Billy Butcher x reader, and Terror makes a appearance)

“It was Christmas Eve babe, In the drunk tank…”

‘Fairytale of New York’ is playing in the background on the old jukebox stuffed in the corner of your old haunt ‘The Proud Raven.’

Proud, it wasn’t anymore. The floorboards creak with each step and sometimes crumble a little underfoot as they are riddled with woodworm. The door got stuck on occasion to the point where patrons would have to kick it open. The windows are cracked to the point where one strong gust of wind could potentially put them through. The light flickers with the old wiring, occasionally causing sparks to come out where the lightbulbs are screwed. And all of this because the owner couldn’t be bothered to do a big makeover.

Christmas lights with several bulbs blown out are haphazardly thrown up around the pub, and a very sad looking Christmas tree that hardly any branches on it, not much tinsel, and like 4 or 5 baubles, stands in the corner by the fireplace. There isn’t even a star or angel on top,

You sit at the bar on an old uncomfortable stool, nursing a glass of whiskey that had gone warm with the ice long melted away. There isn’t even condensation clinging to the glass anymore. You sigh, knocking back the rest of it, and signalling to the bartender for another, who takes your glass and starts refilling.

You look around the pub - all the regulars are there. Old Chet sits in the corner of the bar with his buddy, Otis. They are roughly in their early 70s, already drunk off their faces. They’ve probably been in here since it opened, but they never bothered you, only asking if you’re okay. Mildred and Betty, who are in their late 60s, are in the corner by the fireplace and the tree, probably chatting on how to get Old Chet and Otis’s attention. Arthur and Olive who are in their late 50s are in the other corner, arguing about if their children are coming over this year.

And then there is a newcomer, a middle-aged man, probably in his 40s, if the greying in his black hair, which comes down to just past his neck and his beard, gives anything away. He’s sitting right at the other end of the bar, in a Santa suit, looking bored and frustrated out of his mind.

He caught your attention immediately when he walked into the pub, and you found yourself looking at him multiple times during the evening. The bartender puts your drink down in front of you, and you nod in thanks, already lifting it to your lips and taking a long sip of it, relishing in the coldness of it. You know this will be your last drink of the night, so you’re going to savour it as long as possible.

The next few minutes pass by slowly with ‘Fairytale of New York’ fading out and Santa Baby replacing it, which you tune out. The next thing you know you feel someone sit down beside you, and looking up and you see the new guy sitting beside you with his pint of beer.

“‘Ello, name’s Billy,” he says with a sort of raspiness to his voice, probably from years of drinking and smoking, which you find really attractive.

“Hello,” you say, also giving your name.

“Saw you checkin’ me out quite a few times since I walked in here,” he says, looking down at you.

You gulp, blushing wildly. “I couldn’t help it…you look really handsome,” you say, taking another quick drink.

He lets out a low chuckle. “Even in this Santa suit?” he asks.

“Yeah, even in the suit,” you say, blushing. “But, I’d like to get to know the man beneath.”

“Oh, would you now, love? ” he asks, leaning closer to you.

“Yeah, I would,” you answer, looking into his hazel eyes, which seem to have the Christmas lights sparkling in them.

“Would you like to sit at a table?” he asks.

“Of course.” You get up from the bar and move towards a table in the corner, and you both take a seat beside one another.

“Ya know I’m old enough to be your daddy, love,” he says, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m 37, Billy, what about you?” you ask.

“Oh, alright, that’s not too bad then, I’m 47,” he replies.

“No way, I would have put you at least in your early 40s,” you say in shock.

“That’s nice of you, love. Now, what’s a woman like you doing in a place like this?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink,

“This is my old haunt. Used to come here when I was old enough to drink, but the new owner doesn’t care about this place anymore, not like the old owner. They passed away a few years ago now. It used be the best pub in town, hence the name, ‘The Proud Raven.’ Not anymore, more like ‘The Sad Raven,’” you explain.

“Alright, but I feel like there’s another reason you’re here.”

“You’re right. There is another reason why I’m here. But…I don’t think I want to disclose that information just yet.” You take another big gulp of your drink,

“Don’t blame ya, love, but we have all the time in the world,” he says.

“Yeah, we do, what about you? What’s a man like you doing in a place like this? Thought you would be home with your wife and children, not talking to a stranger like me,” you ask, already wincing at your words, when you see the look on his face at the mention of a wife.

“Don’t have a wife no more, she divorced me a couple of months ago, ran off with a slightly younger man. We didn’t have any kids together,” he says, knocking back the rest of his beer.

“I’m so sorry, Billy. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You gently lay your hand on his forearm, and he covers your hand with his.

“It’s alright love, not your fault.” He squeezes your hand, looking into your eyes deeply,

“It’s her loss, I couldn’t imagine letting you go at all,” you whisper, squeezing his forearm.

He lets out a small smile. “Thanks, love.”

“I found out that my ex was cheating on me for our entire relationship with his colleague from work. Only found out about it a month ago, and that’s why I’m here,” you say, looking down at your hands.

“It’s his loss, I couldn’t imagine letting you go at all,” he repeats your words from earlier.

You look up at him and see the sincereness in his eyes and smile, “Can I ask why the Santa suit?”

“Yeah, you can. It’s a little side gig that goes along with my actual job. Someone is picked to dress up as Santa every year and for some odd reason I always get picked,” he says with a sad expression,

“What’s wrong, Billy?” You move slightly closer to him until you’re on the edge of your seat.

“Nothin’ really, it’s just that every year I notice that there are fewer kids and it makes me feel slightly sad, that they don’t seem to believe in Santa. I think that the parents are gettin’ lazier and not wantin’ to do the Christmas magic, you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean.” You can’t help but feel your heart break into a million pieces for him. Then you get an idea, which maybe really forward of you, to help him cheer up.

You stand up, removing your hand from his, and gently taking a seat in Billy’s lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and he gives you a puzzled look, wrapping his arms around your waist so you don’t fall off.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Can I tell you what I want for Christmas, Santa?” you ask and you see his eyes light up in amusement.

“Of course you can, but aren’t you a little old to be believin’ in Santa?” he asks, his voice dropping a couple of octaves.

“No, not really. I still believe in you. I thank my parents and grandparents for that. Yes, I did get picked on in school because of it, but I don’t care,” you smile brightly.

He gives you a bright smile back. “That’s good of your parents and grandparents. But I’m sorry for those who picked on you in school. If you give me their names, I’ll make sure to drop off a load of coal to them.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Oh, Santa, it’s okay, I’ve forgiven them, but not forgotten them.”

“That’s good of you. Now, tell Santa what you would like for Christmas?” He leans his head down slightly close to yours.

You think for a little bit then say, “What I want for Christmas is to find someone that I can truly fall in love with, and vice versa. And for my new friend Billy to be happy and find love as well.”

“Well, I can’t help with anyone fallin’ in love or bringin’ them happiness, but I don’t think your new friend and yourself will have far to look for that,” he says, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you for listening to me, Santa.” You lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“You’re welcome, love,” he says, still holding you and his voice returning to normal. “Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe go for a walk around the park?”

“I would love that, Billy.” you say, getting up off his lap, and rummaging through your purse for some money.

“Don’t worry, love, I got it,” Billy throws a couple of 20s on the bar top to pay for both of your drinks.

“Thank you, Billy,” you say, making your way out of the pub with him.

You walk with him into the local park and take a gentle stroll around it. He pulls you into his side tightly when a group of rowdy young men in their 20s walk past the both of you.

“Billy, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, love,” he answers.

“You said that the dressing up as Santa was a side gig to go along with your actual job, I’m curious what your actual job is?” you ask, looking up at him,

“I work for the government,” he says, looking down at you. He escorts you to a bench and you both sit down.

“Wow, that’s cool,” you answer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“What do you do, love?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m an English professor in the local college.”

“That’s amazing, but I can imagine it being hard some days.” He pulls you closer when he feels you shivering slightly.

“Some days are hard, but it’s worth it,” you say, snuggling into him.

You and Billy sit there for another hour happily, chatting about little things, like what hobbies you have, favourite food to eat and what you like to do on the weekend. You look at the time and see it’s half past 9.

“I better make my way home,” you say, standing and stretching a little.

Billy follows suit, standing up as well. “Let me walk you home, love.”

“Oh, Billy, you don’t have too,” you answer, looking up at him.

“I know, but it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t. I want to know if you get home safe.”.

“Okay, Billy,” you smile walking towards where you live.

After a good 20 minute walk, you both arrive at your house and stand outside the front door.

“Thank you for walking me home, Billy, and I really enjoyed tonight. I would love if I could see you again?” you ask, feeling hopeful.

“You’re welcome, love, and I also enjoyed tonight. Same here, I want to see you again.”

“Can I have your phone, please?”

He nods, and takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it for you before passing it to you. You gently take it and quickly enter your phone number before ringing your phone from his, so you have his number. You pass back his phone, which he quickly pockets.

“Now, I have your number and you have mine,” you say, looking up at him.

“Thanks, love,” he smiles, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him, “Can I kiss you, love?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Billy,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck and closing your eyes, gently leaning up and kissing him. He quickly returns the kiss, gently opening your lips with his, and letting your tongues meet together. You hold onto him tighter, relishing in the feel of his beard against your cheeks and chin and moving your hands into his hair. You both feel the fireworks throughout the kiss. After a couple minutes of kissing, Billy gently pulls back from you, giving you little kisses on your lips.

“I have to go now, love, got to get up early for work in the mornin’,” he whispers against your lips.

You let out a small whimper, hugging him close. “Okay, Billy.”

“Hey, love, look at me,” he says gently.

You look up at him, “Yeah?”

“We will see each other soon, and we have each other’s number, so we can talk most of the night, when we aren’t workin’, yeah?”

“Yeah, you are right,” you answer.

“That’s my girl. Now, go on inside, so you don’t catch a cold,” he says.

You blush when he calls you his girl. “Okay, Billy.” You give him another tight hug which he returns and kisses the top of your head.

“Goodbye, Billy, see you soon,” you say, reluctantly letting him go and stepping towards your door.

“Goodbye, love, and yes, I will see you soon,” he says, watching you go inside and making sure you are safe, before turning around and heading his way home.

You rest against the door once you enter your home and the door has been locked, letting out a small squeal of excitement at the prospect of starting a relationship with Billy.

-6 months later-

You are walking Terror in the park, Billy’s English Bulldog, that he asked you to look after a month ago, while Billy had to go away for a small mission for the CIA. You didn’t mind looking after Terror, he was such a good boy and just like his owner, he has become extremely protective of you.

You smile down at Terror, walking him a little further before sitting down in the grass with him and grab a bowl and a bottle of water out of the bag. You fill up the bowl for him to drink. You happily stroke Terror as you reminisce over the last 6 months since you met Billy.

You can’t help, but think back to the first week after you met him. He took you on the most romantic dates all week, to the nicest restaurants, to the cinema or simple picnics in the park.

Then you begin to reminisce about the last couple of months, smiling at the memories of how you and Billy took every chance to see one another, even if it was for five minutes.

You pack away the dog bowl and bottle of water, before zipping the bag back up. You sigh sadly, missing Billy so much, and wondering if he is safe. Sensing this, Terror nudges your hand with his nose. You smile, stroking his back and he sits in your lap, snuggling into you. “I know, Terror, I miss him too,” you say, cuddling him and burying your face into his fur.

What you don’t see is Billy making his way towards you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He knew that you were in the park because you sent him a quick message saying you were taking Terror for a walk in the park.

Billy smiles, seeing his one favourite person and his one favourite dog, cuddling on the grass. Billy lets out a low whistle that only Terror knows. Terror looks around before finally spotting Billy and runs his way over to him happily. Billy kneels down, stroking the hell out of him.

You look up really confused when you feel Terror move out of your lap. You go to call him back and that’s when you spot Billy, kneeling down stroking his dog. You scramble to your feet, grabbing the bag, and running towards Billy.

Billy looks up at seeing you run to him, and he quickly stands up with the bouquet of flowers. He catches you as you jump into his arms and gently spins around with you, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck, and crying into it.

“‘Ello, love,” he says, holding you tight to his chest.

“Billy, you’re back, you were suppose to message,” you say, removing your head from his neck, still with tears clinging to your cheeks.

“I know, love, but I couldn’t help but want to surprise you,” he says, gently setting you on the ground. “Here, these are for you,” he says passing you the flowers.

“Oh, Billy, they are beautiful,” you say, taking a quick sniff of them. You grab hold of the lapel of his iconic coat and bring him down to kiss, which he happily returns. He kisses you passionately back and he pulls back first, but keeps his forehead on yours.

“Not as beautiful as you, love. I have missed you, messagin’ you and FaceTimin’ you wasn’t enough,” he says.

“I’ve missed you too and you’re right about messaging and FaceTiming not being enough,” you snuggle into his chest happily.

Billy smiles when you snuggle into his chest. “How’s my man been?” he asks.

You chuckle. “He’s been really good. Some days, you know he has missed you the most, so I gave him one of your Hawaiian shirts to help him, and he is so like you.”

“That’s good. I bet you have been wearin’ one of my shirts as well, and what do you mean he’s like me?” he asks, looking down at you.

“I definitely have been wearing one of your shirts. What I mean is, is that he is getting protective of me, like you,” you answer.

“That’s me old man. I’m glad that he’s protectin’ you,” he says, kissing your forehead.

You giggle, still clinging to Billy. “Missed you so much, Billy. I was worried you weren’t going to come back to us.”

“I missed you too, love, so much. I will always come back to the both of you, and that’s why I put you down as my designated next of kin on my CIA form, so if anything happens to me, you deserve to know,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Oh, Billy,” you whisper, tearing up badly.

“Cause if I am being truthful, I love you so much. Realised when I was away for the mission,” he says.

“I love you so much too, Billy,” you whimper, starting to cry again, kissing him desperately, and he returns it, kissing you back just as desperately.

After a few minutes, you pull back wiping your eyes and when you look at Billy, you can see he has shed a few of his own tears.

“Let’s go home, love,” he says, bending and picking up Terror’s lead, and then wrapping his arm around you shoulder, while you snuggle into his side.

“Sounds good.” You walk with him out of the park. “Do you know what, Billy?”

“What, love?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Santa was right, all those months ago,” you chuckle.

Billy lets out a rare belly laugh, which you love. “That Santa was certainly a very wise man, love.”

Tags: @bohemianblasphemy @billybutcherrtrash @jynx15 @karlurbanism @deana1245 @bluemerakis

#karl urban #billy butcher #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #the boys

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year ago

Text

Promise [a dragon!Ezra x f!reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Dragon!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucking, initial dubcon (sort of a damned if you do damned if you don't deal), dragon fucks reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, PIV Sex, Loss of Virginity, Painful Sex, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, dragon!ezra is really good with his tongue, Squirting, All's well that ends well though, seriously I don't know how to warn for this fic guys, dragon biology is weird, DON'T LOOK AT ME! Light Bondage, drugging, pet names, I know I'm forgetting something help.

Summary: You are taken from you village by a dragon, and he has an obscene proposition for you.

Words: 7,446

You should have known to take cover when the birds stopped singing. You should have known when the sun was blocked out by a looming shadow gliding above you. You should have run for the trees, but you didn’t.

You barely hear the whoosh! before you're grabbed, a sharp claw pierces your shoulder and you cry out in pain, and then your legs leave the ground and you find yourself soaring above the ground, your basket dropped and left behind for someone to find, or not. You cry out from pain and fear, and you try to struggle, but the dragon is holding you securely with its feet, and the claw is still poking into your bleeding flesh. There is nothing that you can do.

Beating his wings in mid-air, he bends down, his large head right in front of you, and then he pushes his snout between your legs, and draws a deep breath. You shriek with fear and indignity, but he has already flicked out his long, forked tongue to taste your smell, evidently pleased, and is now flying off.

Knowing where it is he is taking you, your dread still grows when you see the dark castle perched upon the mountain. Seen in the distance on clear days, it has loomed over your village for centuries, out of reach and impossible to access by foot. That's the reason the dragon has survived for so long: no one can touch him. He swoops down a couple of times a year to steal a young woman who is never seen again. You grew up with the stories, saw him in the distance once as a young child, know three girls who were lost to the voracious monster. As you grew older, you heard the elders whisper of the dragon's appetites: he did not eat the girls, but ravaged them, then ate them. The thought was terrifying, not only because you were still unfamiliar with the art of physical love. You knew the mechanics of it, of course, you were a farm girl, after all, but had nothing but the sight of rutting animals to go after. The idea of a man doing the same to you seemed eerie, and a dragon... unfathomable.

Eyes tearing up from fear and wind alike, you start to shake as the dragon rises higher. The wound on your shoulder stings as he pulls you closer to his abdomen, as if to shield you from the cold. His scales are warm and soft, but you barely notice that. The castle comes ever closer, and he starts his descend over the courtyard. He releases you on the old cobbles but as you try to crawl away, he grabs you again, this time with his front paws, whisking you up against him with one arm and carrying you inside.

You have never been in a castle before, but don't pay any attention to the old, dusty decreptitude around you. When the dragon releases you in front of a fireplace which seems to be the size of your entire house, your first thought is to defend yourself against what is coming. You see a fire poker by the long-abandoned fireplace, and reach for it as you scramble to your feet. Brandishing it, you turn around to face the fiend that has stolen you away.

He is large, larger than a workhorse. Scales the colour of dirty sand and olives cover his back, neck, and the outsides of his legs and tail. His belly is a golden tan. His eyes are amber pools of intense staring at you, and above his right eye is a white scar, as if someone once pulled away several scales from his skin, and they never grew back the right colour.

He smells like red hot embers on a cold winter's night and when he hisses at the poker you're brandishing, you catch a whiff of blood and brimstone, but also something sweeter, flower-like. You hold the poker with two hands, ignore the twinge in your shoulder, and prepare yourself to fight to the death which, you are certain, will come very swiftly. Apart from fighting with your brothers when you were a little girl, you have never raised your fist at anyone.

The dragon regards you, his long neck muscles moving as he tilts his head, almost curiously. He starts as if about to lunge at you, and you raise the poker.

"Don't come any closer!"

He sits back, baring his fangs in a smirk.

"You cannot harm me with that poker."

His voice is smooth and smoky, and the fact that he speaks makes you halt. You lower your arms and the poker clatters to the stone floor.

"Please don't eat me," you whisper, a shiver running through you.

He scoffs. "You humans are barely tasty in a famine."

"What do you want from me?"

"I have a proposition for you. Should you not accept it, you can go, but be warned that nobody has made it down from the mountain alive." He seems indifferent with this fact.

"And if I accept?"

An almost sympathetical blink. "I would have to hurt you, but I would also reward you highly. If you survive."

You're afraid to ask, so you wait for the dragon to tell you what it is he needs from you. Your heart is drumming a hard tattoo against your ribs, and your mouth is dry, but you force yourself to meet his amber gaze.

"I need you to breed for me."

Your stomach drops and twists.

"What?" you gulp. Those molten gold eyes bore into you.

"I need you to be my broodmare. Dragons are rare for a reason, procreation is challenging enough for us as it is," he explains, as if you were in any state to understand what he was saying. "When no female dragons are available, we can impregnate human females, and have offspring through them."

"I would... carry b-baby dragons?" you stutter, the thought disturbing. The dragon gestures his head in a clear No.

"You would be an incubator for my eggs."

You must look confused, because he now sits down, and nods for you to do so as well. How your legs haven't buckled under you already, you have no idea. You sit down on the stone floor and pull your knees up in front of your chest, as if that could shield you from the horrendous affair you are being offered.

"When my kind goes for a long time, centuries, without meeting a mate, we change," he explains, voice serpentine with its sharp esses. "Males, such as myself, become capable of producing eggs. But the eggs still need a womb to carry them."

His eyes narrow a little. "You are untouched by man, are you not?"

The fortright question startles you so much that you just blurt out: "Yes."

"Yes," he hisses, now both sounding and looking very pleased. "I could smell your virginity."

"Is that what you did when you took me?" you ask quietly. "Checked to see if I'm a virgin? You can smell that?"

The dragon moves his shoulders as if he were shrugging. It looks eerily human.

"Only a maiden can bear dragon eggs."

You look down at your hands on top of your knees. They're dirty, the nails worn down by labour. You have worked from a very young age. Work is all you will know.

Is this your chance for something more?

"How would you reward me if I do this?" you ask, hardly believing yourself.

"I have throughout my long life procured considerable wealth consisting of gold and previous stones. You can have as much as you can carry, and more. I will personally return you to your village, or to any place you wish."

For someone such as yourself, who comes from nothing and will never amount to anything except someone's wife and the mother of a tribe of children, you could do worse. It's not that you're not scared, no, you're absolutely terrified.

But there's a tiny part of you that's intrigued. Maybe it's the part of you that denied the neighbour's boy a kiss, that spent a little too long hiding in the canopy of a tree when mother called for you to come and help with one chore or another, that takes the long road home from town just so that you can pass by the house of the village witch, the only woman you know who lives a life different from everybody else.

You are terrified, yes, but you agree. If this kills you, at least you will be able to say that you did something out of the ordinary.

"Yes," you say, looking into the dragon's eyes. "I'll do it."

He blinks slowly as he stands up and towers above you. His scales seem to glow as he bares his teeth in a way you cannot interpret.

"Come with me."

You stand up and walk before him in the direction he indicates, through a dark corridor to a staircase. The dragon nods for you to descend the stairs, and you do, until your reach a large, wooden door with rusty iron bolts. The dragon pulls the door open, and you step in.

If the rest of the castle is dark and decrepit, this chamber is luminous with polished gold candelabra, red velvet drapes, thick carpets that swallow your feet as you tread on them. The space is bigger than the biggest of homes back in the village, and sectioned into different areas. In one corner, there is a large, circular depression filled with luscious pillows and beautiful animal hides, and you realize that it must be the pit where the dragon rests. In another corner is a giant bed with a full canopy, all red velvet and golden tassels. You feel dizzy looking at all this wealth, but it's nothing compared to how you feel when you look over to the next section of the room.

There is a large oak table with chains and shackles in all four corners, chains hanging from the roof, a pillory, and a strange kind of chair with stirrups. When you realize what it could be used for, your face drains of colour and you have to sit down in the lush softness of the carpet.

The dragon, unperturbed, seems to expect this reaction. He slithers around the room, more agile than you'd expect considering his size, and stops to look at you.

"The bed is for you. I sleep over there." He nods towards the bolstered pit. "Be aware that I sleep lightly. Should you attempt to flee, I will awaken."

"I won't."

"That is wise. You will, however, want to."

It is not a threat, but a statement of fact. You slowly rise, your legs barely carrying you, and try to put on a brave face.

"Where do you want me?"

The dragon's tongue darts out to lick its lips. "You are eager."

"I want it over and done with."

He snorts out a hissing sound, almost like a chuckle. "It won't be done quickly. It is a process."

You frown, waiting for an explanation. He slowly comes up to you, fixing you with his gaze. Hypnotized, you stand still, even as he stands right in front of you. You don't move a muscle when he dips his head to the apex of your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste your smell. You don't breathe a word when he whisks you up in one clawed paw and takes you to the table. When he tells you to take your dress off, you obey without blinking. You're pliable when he bends you over the table, one huge clawed hand spread out over your upper back.

You only snap out of your passive state when he enters you, his member bursting you open with pain and humiliation. Your fingers claw at the table as you cry out, but you don't try to get away. You have decided to endure, and endure you will, even when the reptilian cock invades your inexperienced body, time and again, until the dragon snarls and you feel a wet heat spread within you.

The dragon takes care of your shoulder wound, treating it with herbs and binding it with cloth. He brings you food. You don't know from where, or how, but he brings you fresh fruit and berries, and the juiciest parts of cooked meat. He brings you cold water to drink, and when you have eaten and drunk, he takes you again. This repeats over what you think are the next few days. You eat, drink, sleep, and the dragon empties his balls in you to prepare you for breeding. He does not have to force you, but his size and lack of elegance does not make it particularly enjoyable for you.

You sleep in the large bed, larger than any bed you have ever seen, softer than the thickest sheep wool, and when you wake up, the dragon is there again, sniffing between your legs. You're naked on your belly, legs open, and you twitch when the long tongue flicks at your slimy folds. A shiver runs through you, but not of fear: this is something new, something unexpected. You have earlier felt a flicker of pleasure at the way the creature's jagged cock dragged through your tight hole, but you have been unable to verbalize it for him.

"Nearly done," the dragon proclaims, his breath hot on your skin. The rich mattress dips behind you when he climbs onto the bed.

"Wait," you gasp, looking back. He stops still and snorts in annoyance.

"Are you dishonouring our agreement?"

"No," you lick your lips nervously, "I just... can you..."

Embarrassment burns on your cheeks as you try to find words that you have never spoken, never thought you would speak to a creature such as the one behind your naked form.

"I think it would be more... en... enjoyable f-for me... if you... do that again?"

The dragon tilts its head as it regards you, eyes narrowing. You can't return his gaze, so you turn your face to the front again.

"With your... tongue," you whisper. "Down there."

He doesn't move, and you regret saying anything.

"Forget about it," you quickly shake your head. "It was nothing. Just forget it."

The mattress moves as the dragon's weight is redistributed, and then you feel his steaming breath against you anew.

"If it will make mating easier for you, I am obliged to make the attempt," he murmurs, before poking his snout against your sex. His tongue lashes out, wet and warm and quick, against your soiled centre, and you feel a titillation grow inside you. When he does it again, pushing his tongue against you and inside you, your breathing grows heavy. His tongue slides more easily than his cock, broad though it is, and its warmth feels comforting and soothing on your stinging walls. When he licks you again, he hits the little nub that you've barely dared to touch yourself, and a jolt of pleasure cuts through you.

"Oh!" Your gasp is filled with a surprised delight, and when you feel his tongue on you again, you push back shamelessly. Your fingers claw at the silk sheets, dirty nails looking so out of place on the expensive fabric, you stare at them in wonder as each lick provides a new sensation for you, a new limit crossed. Your eyes close as you bite down on your lower lip, whining quietly at how good you feel, how strange and adventurous. When the dragon stops, you protest loudly.

"No, please, don't stop, it feels so good!"

He grunts impatiently, but heeds your wish for more, his clawed hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs wider for better access to your core. You reward him with a loud moan when his tongue slides inside you again, wiggling and probing, before pulling out to swirl over that nub where the sensations are gathering. The intensity rises for each lick and you have no idea what will happen if he doesn't stop, you only know that you don't want him to stop, he must go on, you must find out.

"Please," you moan into the bedding, "please, more, don't stop, give me more!"

His agile tongue speeds up, saliva and spend mixing with your own juices as your muscles twitch. Your body starts to act in conflict with your brain, pushing and pulling, wanting to escape the barrel of explosives that seems to have caught fire deep inside you while also waiting, wanting for it to tear you apart. When the pleasure comes to a combustion inside you, your dripping cunt throbbing around nothing, you let out a wail that echoes through the chamber.

The dragon stops, sniffing with appreciation at your wetness before he mounts you, his long member piercing you promptly. He ruts into you, a groan emanating from deep within his chest, and you marvel at how different he feels, how good he feels when your cunt is still pulsating from your release. When he spills inside of you, he does so to your cries of approval. His growl lets you know that this was a new experience for him as well, and he enjoyed it.

Your cunt is full of his spend, and he sniffs at you after pulling out.

"Not long now, my breeder," he lets you know, and he sounds satisfied. You hum, gloriously exhausted and wondrous after your climax.

If this is how every time is going to feel like, you don't want it to end.

The dragon leaves you to sleep, and returns with provisions.

"You need your strength," he tells you cryptically, and you choose not to dwell on the meaning of that. When you've eaten, he takes you again, but only after slaking your need for another high.

The chamber lacks windows, so you have no idea what time it is, or how long you have been in the castle. You have rested more in the last day - days? - than you have in your entire life. All you do is sleep in the luxurious bed, eat fresh fruit and rich meat, and spread your legs for the dragon which, now that he has learned how to please you, is nothing but heavenly.

You awaken to a sweet ache between your legs, the thick cream that the creature has spilled inside of you creating a full and sticky sensation. And warm. You feel warmer than you ever have in your life, yet you are not sweating. It's like your insides are becoming to the dragon's eggs what the large canopy bed is to you: a snug, safe place to rest. When you sit up, your cunt oozes with the juice, much in the same way as your monthly bleeding, yet you are not uncomfortable.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, and you suppose he is procuring provisions, wherever he goes to do so. Slowly, you inch out of the bed, looking around for your dress but not finding it. Instead, your take a sheet and drape it around yourself before slowly making your way around the room, exploring. The table, where he first took you. The pillory, the chair with the stirrups. That one makes you blush, even after what you have experienced so far. If you'd sit in it, and put your feet in the stirrups, anyone standing before you would see right up your -

The heavy door opens, and the dragon slithers in. He stops when he sees you out of bed, his nostrils flaring. You think you detect a whiff of smoke. The scar over his eye seems to shine.

"I was just looking," you tell him hurriedly. "I'm... curious."

"That much is evident," the dragon agrees as he closes the door. He then watches you as you walk over to the table, your hand reaching out to gingerly touch the shackles. You look at him, asking with no words. His amber gaze does not waver.

"Restraining is necessary in the insertion phase."

"Why?"

"Because it hurts."

A chill runs down your spine, and you ask no more. Instead, you run your fingers over the coarse iron of one cuff.

"It is getting to be the time," the dragon adds, and you nod.

"I suppose."

"Is there anything you need? Food? Water?"

You look up, see sympathy flash by in his eyes.

"What is your name?"

He frowns, like he doesn't understand the question, so you repeat it.

"You must have a name?"

"It's... Ezra. My name is Ezra."

"Ezra," you repeat quietly. The two syllables are soft and sharp at the same time. The name fits its bearer.

He emits a low sound, almost like a purr. You raise your brows at him, and he stops.

"I have not heard my name spoken in a very long time," he admits, lowering his head, as if embarrassed. You smile at him then, taken by the sudden show of vulnerability.

"Ezra," you repeat, and slowly make your way across the room to him. Up close, you smell blood on him, and see red splattered over his shiny scales. He must have eaten. You prefer not to think how, or what.

Tentatively, you raise one hand, placing it on his neck. It's warm and surprisingly smooth, with tough muscles moving under the skin. They twitch when you move your hand up his neck. Blinking, he softly meets your gaze before his eyes fall half shut as you caress his head and trail your fingers over the ridges that crowns his head.

Ezra's tongue darts out as he regards you, his pupils dilated. Standing in front of him, the air feels the way it does right before a thunderstorm: thick with crackling energy, buzzing, uneasy to breathe.

Without warning, he picks you up and takes you to the table, where he lays you down and peels you out of the sheet. He then parts your legs, and nudges his head between your thighs, tongue already flicking at your bud, like he's eager to please you. Your low hum of approval quickly rises into a moan when the dragon - Ezra - pushes his tongue inside you, reaching deeper than you ever thought possible. You can feel him touch some internal barrier deep in your belly, and you start to squirm as the pleasure borders on pain. Ezra's long, clawed fingers close around your thighs to keep you in place, and he pushes his snout against you. The ridges on the bridge of his nose and muzzle rub against you in the most delectable way, and you push back in search of the right spot, the one spot that will make you soar. Finding it, you shamelessly reach for his head, taking a firm hold and keeping him in place as you start to grind against him while he fucks your cunt with his tongue. Your climax arrives quickly, strongly, your wail echoing in the chamber. Ezra releases your legs and while you’re still trembling, your head thrown back and your eyes closed, he shackles you to the table. You barely even feel the first cold snap of metal around your wrist, but when both your hands are cuffed, you open your eyes to see him close a cuff around your ankle.

“Is this necessary?” you ask weakly, your heart missing a beat. Ezra’s nostrils flare as he looks down at you.

“You will hurt,” he tells you flatly. “Many before you have tried to escape.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Ezra climbs up on the table, and you see his cock for the first time. You can barely hold back a gasp.

It’s long, much longer than on any farm animal you’ve seen. The tip is almost pointy, and the underside of the entire length is ridged, much like his head is. No wonder it has been difficult to take.

But what really makes you stare is how the tip seems almost dilated, like the opening of an animal ready to give birth. It is only now that you seem to realize that not only will Ezra have to pass over the eggs to you: you will have to accept them into you, and that is certain to not be comfortable.

“Are you ready?” he asks tightly, like he is unsure of his own dedication to the endeavour. You whisper your yes, and he pushes into you.

“It will be a distressing experience for both of us,” he tells you in a low grunt, “and I wish I could promise you that it will be over shortly, but I would be lying. When my kind mate, we stay together for hours.”

You whimper, the chains holding you in place clanking a little as you move your feet. More accustomed to his size by now, you expect him to start fucking you like he has up until now but instead, he pushes further into you, reaching that limit inside you which you feel is the absolute boundary of what you can take.

He pushes pash, the tip entering your womb, and you wail, your thighs trying to draw together, shut him out, prevent him from going any deeper. But your legs are bound, and all you have is Ezra’s large hand on your thigh, stroking slowly as if to comfort you.

“Ezra,” you whimper, “it’s too much.”

“I know, my pet,” he rumbles low, “it hurts me too.”

Something pushes against your cunt, already full of him, and you sob loudly when Ezra jerks his hips, and you feel the unmistakable round form of an egg pass through his cock, lodged inside you. It’s splitting you open, and your press your eyes shut hard in a futile attempt at keeping the tears away.

The egg, roughly the size of that of a chicken, moves slowly, so slowly on its way to your womb. Ezra growls, the smell of sulfur grows stronger, and he presses your thighs down to keep your still when you squirm.

“Please, Ezra,” you plead with him, “make me feel good. Just a little, with your tongue.”

“I am afraid I cannot do that,” he grunts with remorse, “we both need to stay as still as possible for the eggs to safely make it into your womb.”

He lowers his head to your chest, licking around your nipples.

“But I can do something else for you,” he tells you before baring his teeth, and sinking his fangs into your soft breast. You shriek at the pain, panic budding in you as you kick against the restraints.

“You will feel better in a moment, my pet,” he soothes you with little licks around the wound. “My bite is venomous, and you will soon feel less pain.”

“You p-poisoned me?” you gasp, voice weakening already as the venom spreads in your blood.

“I only gave you a small dose to make you relax,” he promises, and then he gets a little blurry. Your eyelids feel heavy, so you let them fall shut as you surrender with a helpless moan, finding some comfort in the fact that the torment on Ezra’s face is just as real as your slowly dulling pain.

When the first egg finally settles into your womb, you’re still flushed and glistening with sweat, despite the anaesthetic. Ezra pulls halfway out, the ridges of his cock scraping at your slick walls, making you keen in sudden pleasure. He ruts into you a couple of times before lodging himself back at your core, and staying there.

You lose track of time and eggs. For each one that Ezra deposits in you, he soothes your stretched cunt with slow drags of his cock, teasing you just enough to keep going. He swirls his tongue around your nipples to alleviate your distress. You feel it as through water: everything is distant and muffled.

He's breathing heavily by the time he passes the last egg into your womb. His breath is hot against your skin, and when he slides out of you, he does so with a rumbled groan. He then sniffs at your swollen opening, tongue flitting at you, making you flinch and moan.

“Ezra…”

“It is done, my good breeder,” he murmurs, and you hear from his dazed words how exhausted he is. You lift your head. The world spins, but you can still see the bulge of your stomach. Blinking, you try to understand what it is you see. It is your stomach, but… it’s huge. You feel heavy, full, mangled. You want to ask Ezra how many eggs there are in you, but your tongue is thick in your mouth. When he releases you from the shackles, you remain where you are, spread-eagled, too dazed to move. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, where he gently lays you down and covers your body with silk sheets and animal hides before you start feeling chilled. He then retires to his own pit, and you dimly hear him snarl as he collapses into the bedding. Only then do you succumb to darkness and a dreamless, deep sleep.

When you wake up, you are nestled against Ezra’s side, his tail slung protectively around you. The first thing you become aware of is his strongly beating heart, so close to your ears, and then his warmth. Your head is heavy and your body inflamed, and when you roll over onto your back, you become aware of your bulging stomach, and how the weight of its contents are pushing down on your organs.

The gasp that escapes you is filled with alarm, and Ezra is immediately there, awake, sniffing at your belly.

“You are okay,” his hushed voice reassures you. “The eggs are alive. You are alive.”

“Why wouldn’t I be alive?” you ask, unsure if you want to know the answer. Ezra slants his head.

“The previous ones died. Or the eggs died.”

You shudder, then try to sit up, but with a gentle push of his nose, Ezra makes you lie back down.

“You need rest, lots of rest,” he tells you. “I will bring you food and drink.”

“How did I get here?” you want to know. The last thing you remember was falling asleep on the bed. Ezra puffs out a breath, like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You joined me during the night. You came here, lay down next to me, and pulled my arm over you.”

You don’t know what to make of that answer, so you remain quiet. Shortly after, Ezra leaves to procure food for you.

Over the coming days, you are treated like a princess of the tales that your mother told you as a child. You rest, eat, drink, and only get up to go relieve yourself. Ezra carries you to the caverns underneath the castle, where you bathe in ancient hot springs. He fertilizes your womb continuously by fucking you, but does so carefully so as not to disturb the fragile eggs, and he pleasures you with his tongue each time.

Despite the tight, heavy burden in your belly, you have never felt better, been treated better, eaten better. Even with your elevated temperature and slightly dazed condition, you wouldn’t change this for anything else. Ezra dotes on you more than your own mother ever did, and you start to think that it may not just be because you are carrying his eggs. No, the dragon seems to actually like you, enjoy your company, your body. The way he goes out of his way to satisfy you, finding new methods to help you reach the blissful heights of ecstasy, the way he makes sure you are ready before he takes you.

“Ezra?” you ask him one night when you are curled up on your side, tucked against him.

“Yes, my pet?”

“How many are there?”

He knows immediately what you mean.

“Seven.”

You let that sink in for a moment.

“Is that a lot?”

“It is a lot,” he acknowledges. “The average is four.”

“Four?” Your head pops up, and Ezra hisses softly against your sudden movement. You lay your head back down and Ezra is at once at your belly, sniffing and prodding.

“Don’t do that,” you groan. “Stop poking it like that, it’s so uncomfortable. I can feel them move.”

He hisses again; a reprimand at your tone. You know by now that he doesn’t like it when you talk back at him – although you suspect that he secretly enjoys it, the same way he seems to enjoy it when you pull him into your sex. The way he takes you now is also different, less ferocious. He seems to derive pleasure from it, not just fucking you as a means of procreation. Since you were impregnated, you have slept next to him, finding his proximity reassuring. You imagine that he appreciates having you close by, as well, from the way he curls himself protectively around you when you lay down to sleep. He doesn’t seem to want to be away from you for long, always returning with your food as swiftly as possible. He keeps examining you, smelling your sex and your belly, clearly sensing the condition of the eggs, of which you have no perception at all. You simply carry their weight inside you, but you have no idea of how they are doing. Ezra, however, keeps close track.

You wake up from a nap with Ezra’s large head between your legs, sniffing and prodding.

“Ezra…?” you murmur, your heartbeats echoing in your cunt as his touch starts to heat up your core.

“They’re ready,” he tells you, amber eyes glowing as he looks up at you. “I can sense it, they’re all ready.”

You sit up, one hand on the curve of your abdomen as you wait for him to tell you how to proceed. He picks you up, gently, and takes you to the strange chair with the stirrups. The idea of baring yourself for him is no longer awkward: he has already seen all of you, touched you everywhere.

“This should provide you with the most comfort,” he explains as he helps you put your feet up. “It will also help with the passing of the eggs.”

You nod, unsure about what to expect. Ezra’s nostrils flare, he keeps licking his lips, and you realize that he’s nervous. From what you’ve put together, no one has ever reached this point of the reproduction process, so it’s perfectly understandable that he is worried about how it’ll go.

“It’s okay,” you tell him quietly, despite not knowing what’s about to happen. “I’m sure the eggs will be fine.”

His blinks in surprise at your words before sinking his mouth between your legs.

“I want you to feel good, pet.”

You surrender to his tongue, so familiar to you by now. When your body starts to tighten in preparation for your climax, you feel a pressure against the opening of your womb.

“Ezra…!” you keen, getting a growl in return.

“Let it go, pet, just let it go.”

Your pressure culminates with swift strokes of his agile tongue, and the massive compression slips through the tight mouth of your womb, your quivering cunt transporting it through the slick, craving canal. Reaching the final threshold to the outside world, the egg unexpectedly rushes you towards a new crest and is released in a splash of warm fluid. For a second you fear you’ve soiled yourself, but you cannot smell urine, only the warm, mossy fragrance of your own sex. Your legs shake as you draw a deep, trembling breath, and you hear a very pleased murmur from Ezra.

“A perfect egg. Well done, my sweet pet, well done.”

You catch your breath as he takes the egg to his sleeping pit, placing it on a soft hide and covering it with velvet blankets. He returns to you, sniffs at your belly and gives it a soft prod before curling his tongue around your nipples. You feel your blood heating again, the pressure against your core, and you moan Ezra’s name. He nuzzles your neck before licking down your body to your weeping cunt, where he once again start to coax a release, and with that an egg, from you.

Seven times does Ezra bring you to the stars, and when seven eggs are resting securely in his pit, you are annihilated. Your cunt is aching from pleasure and labour, you are swimming in sweat, your voice is lost due to your loud wailing.

You whimper when Ezra finally helps you down from the chair. Your legs buckle under you but you fall softly against the dragon’s strong, safe chest. He scoops you up and brings you to the hot springs under the castle. He brings you cold water to drink as you bathe and clean yourself, then takes you back to the chamber where he lets you sleep.

Once again, you wake up disoriented, and drag yourself to the pit where Ezra has curled up around his eggs.

Your eggs.

He grunts when you nestle in between his arms, but licks your cheek and resettles. Lulled back to sleep by the sound of his slowly beating heart, your last thought is of how you never want to leave.

It is clear to you that Ezra’s concerns have shifted from you to the seven eggs. He fusses over them like he did over you, and while he’s not dismissive of you, you know that the time has come for you to be returned to your village.

“When will they hatch?” you ask Ezra as you watch him re-swaddle the eggs.

“A decade from now.”

“Oh.” You’re more surprised than you perhaps should be, given what you have learned about dragons. “So it’ll be a while before someone comes down from this castle and calls me mother.”

He chuckles, a strange sound to come from him. You sit at the edge of his sleeping pit, hands folded in your lap, your old, threadbare dress feeling unfamiliar and uncomfortable after the time you’ve spent naked. Your cunt throbs in a distant memory of pleasure when you look at the dragon.

“Well…” you sigh, “I guess it’s time for me to leave.”

“I will take you to my treasure chamber,” Ezra immediately offers. “You can pick out whatever you want, however much you want.”

“I don’t… I don’t need treasure. What am I to do with treasures?”

He frowns, climbing out of the pit and sitting next to you.

“Are not treasures coveted by humans as much as by dragons?”

“Yes, but…” You bite your lower lip, your eyes fixed on the eggs. They’re the colour of wet sand, splashed with gold. They’re beautiful, and you find yourself hoping that they will make it. Ten years is a long time.

Ezra snorts, and you smell smoke. He seems agitated with you, so you stand up.

“I will take my reward and go back to my village,” you tell him stoically, knowing that there is no other way for this to end.

He brings you two chests of gold coins and jewels, and looking at them you know that the riches before you is enough to keep your entire village in comfort for the next hundred years. The thought is comforting, but you still mourn your departure.

“You are not happy,” Ezra notes. You blush a little, hoping he won’t think you ungrateful.

“I guess I’ve enjoyed myself here,” you confess quietly. “It has been… curious.”

“Would you do it again?” he asks you, and the answer is an easy one.

“Yes.”

“What if… you were to return next year?”

You lift your chin och look questioningly at him.

“My kind can lay eggs every year,” he elaborates. “If I should need a breeder next year… would you come?”

“I would.”

“There is a condition.”

“Name it.” Your heart is beating faster at the prospect of returning, and you are ready to do anything for the opportunity.

“Human semen will ruin a womb for dragon eggs. You must not give yourself to a man,” Ezra states, his tail twitching. “If you stay untouched by man, I will come for you next year.”

“As if any man’s cock would be able to satisfy me now,” you laugh, the idea as preposterous to you now as incubating dragon eggs in your womb was before you came here. Ezra’s lips curl up in a smile.

“You found great satisfaction in my cock, I gather.”

“And your tongue,” you blurt out, averting your eyes as you blush. Ezra lowers his head and pushes at your shoulder.

“Would you permit me to bestow upon you another parting gift?” he murmurs, his tail sliding over your leg. You swallow tightly, and nod.

“Then remove your dress.”

He takes you to bed, where he takes his time to satisfy you with his mouth. No longer driven by the need to breed, he instead revels in your moans and praises, listens in your gasps and pleads, denies you the release you crave, chuckles low in his chest when you curse his name, then attacks you anew with his tongue, lapping at your hungry cunt until you’re writhing and wailing in pleasure. As soon as you have caught your breath, you surprise him by reaching for his cock. Slowly, you pass your hand over the ridges of it, marvelling the heft of it and how your hand cannot reach around it. Ezra hisses low, like a purr, then growls when you kiss the tip of his cock.

“Pet…”

You look up, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“Is this wrong?”

He grunts, a ripple running through his scales. “Nobody has ever done that to me.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will do it again.”

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth and try to imitate what he did to you with his tongue. Ezra growls again, his tail slithers around you, his claws pierce the mattress underneath you. The salty, rocky taste of him grows strong as you take both your hands to your help, moving them along his jagged length as you twist your tongue over the flared head. Ezra twitches and claws at the sheets that rip with sharp cries. His hisses grow short and laboured, the taste of him grows overwhelming, but you don’t stop until he pushes you away.

“I… appreciate your efforts,” he wheezes, his cock twitching as you stroke it with a wicked smile on your face. “I would, however, prefer to let my cock know your tight cunt one last time before we part ways.”

“I would, too,” you agree softly, and let go of his cock before you turn around and get up on all fours. In one thrust, he drives in his whole length, then settles into a slow drag that tickles your cunt in just the righ way. His hot breath is on your neck and when you twist your head back, his warm tongue passes over your face. You part your lips and he slips his tongue inside. You taste pepper and moss, and you choke on your own moans when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His forelegs are crowding you on either side of your arms, his cock is filling you, and when he raises his head again, his breathing is heavy.

“Harder,” you ask breathlessly, chin dripping with his saliva and yours. “Harder, more, please, Ezra.”

He obeys you with a growl, sliding his tail between your legs and pushing you down on it. As he ruts into you faster, your bud grinds against the scaly skin of his tail, sending sparks of fierce pleasure along your spine. You cry out his name, clawing at the sheets in the same way he is, pant your Yes! Yes! Yes! until you shudder all over, your cunt gushing in heavenly spasms. Ezra roars so loudly that your shoulders instinctively shoot up towards your ears. Your bones tremble with the low bass of it, and your cunt fills with his hot, sticky seed.

He licks you clean after, teasing your sensitive folds with that tongue that you’ve come to love.

“Are you not terribly lonely here?” you ask, drowsy after your release. Ezra’s tongue trails a wet path from your cunt to your breast.

“I will be now.”

“I could stay?”

“This is no place for you.”

You reach out a hand and caress his cheek.

“But you’ll come for me in a year?”

He blinks softly. “I promise.”

#ezra prospect #ezra au #ezra x reader #dragon!ezra #my fic

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cawthorntales · 5 months ago

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Grayson: So are you excited for our date?

Glenn: I'm very excited!

Grayson: I'm glad to hear it. I'm looking forward to get to know you a bit more.

Glenn: I'm an open book. Fire away!

Grayson: Any secret talent I should know about?

Glenn: I can tell what color a flower will be before it emerges from its bud. I mean I know what color everything in my garden is but if I'm like out at a park and there are trees or shrubs yet to bloom I can see in my mind what color they'll be. Spellcaster blood I guess. Not the best secret talent, I can't show it off at parties, but I enjoy it.

Grayson: That's an amazing talent! Don't sell yourself short. I can't even grow a weed. So being able to tell what a bud will even be is awesome.

Glenn: Thank you Grayson.

Grayson: You're welcome. So far am I what you expected or thought I'd be? Or have I surprised you?

Glenn: The camera does not do you justice, you're way cuter in person. Not to say the entry photo looked bad, just you look really good. You also check in on us everyday which is just the sweetest. I thought we'd have to come seek you out and have battles for who could speak to you for the day. Like one conversation winner and the rest of us stuck in a walk in freezer or something. But you check in with all of us, it's good. Plus, seeing abs in person is always nice. I have been sad not to meet Olive yet though, do you have any pictures on your phone?

*Grayson blushes*

Grayson: Thank you! What is your biggest dream?

Glenn: To find my person. I know that's probably the annoying stereotypical answer but it's true. I'd like to live in a world where it's okay to be different, where differences are celebrated you know. I want to find someone who can say with a real smile on their face, that's my guy and he works some magic. I'm not ambitious for fame or fortune, my garden generates enough income. But I'd like to find someone I can share life with. To be at my side through the ups downs and diagonally's. Is that a word? It sounds like it should be. I'd like to grow my garden more sure, but I'd rather have someone to sit in my garden with you know?

Grayson: Not annoying or stereotypical at all. I'm after the same thing. I think you kind of have to be to make yourself so vulnerable on a tv show.

Glenn: Very true. It's an interesting experience for sure.

Grayson: What do you like most about yourself?

Glenn: This is going to sound so conceited! My confidence. My grandfather has always been big on being proud of where we come from. He taught me lots from a young age about spells and gardening and the like, but he also taught me to trust myself. That everything we do, bar breathing and such, is a learned skill. We always have the capacity to grow, be better, do better. I have a toolbox of physical and mental skills. Put me in a tricky situation and I will find a way to thrive, like the saplings that burst through the pavement. There's stuff I would not have made it through if I didn't start out with the belief that I could succeed. So yeah, I like that I'm self assured. I also really like my birthmarks. I used to hate them because kids would tease me about having a dirty face or a dirty arm all the time. But… they make me me. I wouldn't know the guy looking back at me from the mirror without them, I love that they make me unique.

Grayson: Doesn't sound conceited to me at all. Nothing wrong with believing in yourself. I wish I was able to do it more myself. Your grandfather sounds like a pretty awesome guy. For what it is worth I think your birthmarks are adorable.

*Glenn winks*

Grayson: What do you love most about the outdoors?

Glenn: Getting to see the beauty that exists in nature, it takes your breath away. Like in Belgium there's this forest that annually will have all these bluebells spring up amongst the trees making it look like a fairytale. Or the waterfalls in Yosemite park make lunar rainbows called moonbows which look stunning. But I mean you don't have to go to the big famous places to see it. You might see a tree in the park that's been there one hundred years and you just think about all that the world has been through in that time and that tree has just been there and kept standing. Or the wildflowers that grow out in the fields year after year.

Grayson: I love how excited you sound. Nature is very beautiful. But I think I like the view in front of me just a bit more.

*Glenn blushes*

Week two is solo dates. Each guy is taken to the same date venue(I lack options lol) Grayson will give one interaction a get to know. It is up to your contestant then to engage on the date. Glenn did the following: flirt, compliment appearance, i love your smile and flatter. He then left Grayson to talk to this old guy as well as other people at the venue the rest of the date. @changingplumbob

#sims 4 #simblr #grayson clawcrest #clawcrest bc #glenn sutherland

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copperbadge · 1 year ago

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Cleaning out my Google Drive archive, I happened to stumble across the original spec Hallmark Movie script that Fete For A King was based on -- not that I had lost it, I'd just kind of forgotten about it. And it occurred to me you guys might enjoy seeing a scene or two from it.

I wrote Fete basically from the script -- I made a copy of the script and rewrote it into prose as I went, then did a second pass to make it less Scripty, so most of it would be very familiar. The plot came through basically intact. The one thing I significantly altered was Jerry and Alanna's subplot -- in the script, as often happens with Hallmark films, the supporting characters also have a love storyline. I took that out of the book because it didn't need the padding, and it allowed me to give them a book of their own later, but the script scenes were pretty fun. :D

(In this version Jerry still attends the Agricultural Cabinet meeting for Gregory, but mentions this fact to Michaelis, which gets Gregory in trouble for blowing it off.)

ALANNA, spying on the lunch meeting through the door to the Prince's office, leans back behind a column or wall. DUKE GERALD (JERRY), looking apologetic, winces.

ALANNA: How could you, Jerry?

JERRY: I told you, I didn't mean to! I thought if I told the king I stepped in for Gregory, it would show I'm taking an interest. Turning over a new leaf.

ALANNA: Nobody asked you to take an interest.

JERRY: Least of all me. But I was interested, really, Alanna. We could be doing so much more with olives. I didn't know crop planning was such a precise science.

ALANNA: And that's great, but you could have just said you went WITH Greg to the meeting.

JERRY: Why would I go with Greg to an agricultural meeting? Anyway, I would have but I didn't think of it. Don't be mad at me.

ALANNA: It's not me you have to worry about.

JERRY: But Greg knows I wouldn't sabotage him. Besides, uncle Mike would have heard about it eventually anyway. Everyone in town was talking about the Prince coming to try that cheese shop with the social media chef guy.

ALANNA: He's under a lot of pressure.

JERRY: I know.

ALANNA: And now unless that cheese REALLY impresses the king, he's going to start following Greg around everywhere and trying to offer his opinion.

JERRY: He's been king for forty years. His opinion's probably useful.

ALANNA: Not if the prince wants to make his own way.

JERRY: Well, what do you want me to do? I can't make uncle Mike like cheese.

ALANNA: I want you to keep an eye on them and keep the king distracted. Can't you do something mildly embarrassing?

JERRY: More or less embarrassing than visiting a cheese shop in a "Truly Tasty" hat?

ALANNA: Fix it, Jerry!

JERRY: Fine, I'll do my best. But I want you to make Greg make me his vizier when he's king.

ALANNA: We haven't had a vizier in a hundred years. What does a vizier even do?

JERRY: Nothing, but with drama.

ALANNA: Fine. I have meetings. Stay here, keep spying, report back when they leave.

JERRY gives her a thumbs up and watches her leave, then turns to spying on the meeting.

***

And then Alanna has a realization....

ALANNA is still leading JERRY away from the picnic.

JERRY: I thought you wanted me to keep Uncle Mike off Greg's case.

ALANNA: Not tonight. Eddie's pitching his new high-concept for the coronation feast, so they've got to be there together.

JERRY: Well, I wish someone would make up their mind around here.

ALANNA: You could set a trend.

JERRY: What's that supposed to mean?

ALANNA: You're not interested in olives, Jerry.

JERRY: Of course I am.

ALANNA: You're interested in the fact that my dad heads the cabinet board that supervises the olive harvest.

JERRY: Olives are very interesting to me. (deflating) And I wanted to impress your dad.

ALANNA: He's known you since we were kids running around the palace together.

JERRY: Is that good?

ALANNA: My father has literally watched you fall out of multiple trees you were trying to climb.

JERRY: Failing to climb, mostly.

ALANNA: So why are you trying to impress him now?

JERRY: Well, isn't it obvious?

They stare at each other.

ALANNA: I cannot go on a date with you.

JERRY looks crestfallen. ALANNA pulls out her phone.

ALANNA: There's too much to do, Jerry. Between now and the coronation every hour I'm awake is booked. The best I can give you is three weeks from Tuesday.

JERRY: What?

ALANNA: Three weeks from Tuesday. Does that work for you? Never mind, your calendar's on my phone. I'm booking us in. Dinner okay?

JERRY: Uh. Yes.

ALANNA: Good. I'll send you a calendar invite, you pick the place.

She walks off, still typing in her phone.

JERRY: What just happened?

#shivadhverse #you can really see Jerry's roots in Bertie Wooster showing through here

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changingplumbob · 6 months ago

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Glenn Sutherland

Reworked for @cawthorntales's bachelor challenge. More below!

Tell us a bit about yourself.

Hey there, I'm Glenn. If I was to describe myself in one word it would be garden. I love getting into nature and getting my hands dirty. I have a wonderful garden with plants grown from clippings that have been in my family for generations. The neighbours like to say I practice witchcraft with how well my garden survives over winter. Rumors like that have done enough damage to my family tree over the years, all I have left is my grandfather. Any abilities I have are between me and the watcher, and hopefully Grayson.

Why did you apply?

Who doesn't want love? The world is full of beautiful people, me included. What good is a perfect flower if you have no one to give it to? I'm ready to branch out to new horizons and open my heart.

Outfits for my bisexual guy

What do you enjoy apart from gardening?

If I'm outside I like hiking, fishing, camping under the stars. At home I love to be in the kitchen. I cook up meals all the time. Cooking allows for a lot of experimentation with flavours, no magic required, although it can give it a nice kick... I have to exercise to balance out all the good food I eat, so sue for being proud of looking good. I do like to curl up on the couch to check out a movie, especially if the weather is bad. If we're watching a series together, don't be skipping ahead without me!

What are you looking forward to?

Meeting Grayson! He sounds like an interesting guy. What can I say? I like a guy with muscles. And they told me he has a dog! My grandfather and I had a German Shepherd called Doc Brown, you know after the inventor in Back to the Future. I miss that dog.

What are you dreading?

I have been told by some before that I'm an acquired taste. I'm really not looking forward to having to prove myself alongside a bunch of other contestants. People can assume I'm full of myself but I have the skills to back up my ego.

Do you have a message for Grayson?

Hey handsome, I heard you're looking for a special someone? If you like being showered in flowers then I'm your man. Give me a chance and I promise I'll treat you and Olive right. Lets make our own epic love story.

CC info ... Download (SFS)

@pralinesims: Skin detail lashes Temza, Left eyebrow studs, Earrings back in time

@nucrests: Bayside Shirt

@frenchiesimgirl: Jeans, Tattoo (whimsical flowers)

@helgatisha: Formal suit Recolour Vest Victorian

EA Content: My First Pet Stuff, Cottage Living

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ts4 #fly my pretty #out of the nest

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stanzo75 · 8 days ago

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Scraped knees □

Background: y/n is hard of seeing, her peculiarity involves bioluminescent and partially acidic tears that over the years have worn down her eyes, although from a young age she could wipe the tears before they ran down her face, her eyes couldn't be saved and are mostly just white. The white eyes made it harder for enoch to trust her when he arrived in the loop, and he still doesn't quite seem to like her despite her attempts to earn his friendship.

Guys I'm sorry if this sucks, I'm rusty! This is my first attempt at writing since 2021 so I really hope it is at least decent!! I also have NOT proofread this.

"HEY! watch it!,"

a sharp, bitter tone snaps.

As you stumble back, you look down to see a blurry dark figure on the ground sitting against a tree.

"OH! Im so sorry-" you say quickly as you recognize the figure of enoch o'connor, the one peculiar in this loop who hasn't seemed to accept you yet.

You can't quite see his face, but you can faintly make out the scowl he's giving you. Claire's voice can be heard from nearby behind you, sounding to be getting closer with each word,

"y/n! We're over here! Come play." Suddenly claire is next to you, grabbing your hand and helping lead you away from the brooding boy.

Claire and bronwyn had invited you outside to the garden to play with them, they loved playing imaginary games, pretending to be princesses or mermaids or knights, and you were always their favorite person to play with, as Emma was always with Jake and olive preferred staying inside. They never made you feel like you were a burden, given your poor eyesight, every day for an hour or two after lunch you'd be outside in the garden with them having imaginary battles or pretend tea parties, and it always made your day. Especially on the days that enoch wouldn't hold his tongue around you.

"I found her! She almost ran into enoch!" Claire says as they reach bronwyn, letting go of your hand and bouncing over to sit next to her.

You follow, taking careful steps and sitting in a circle with the two younger girls.

"We should be pirates today!" Bronwyn exclaims excitedly.

"No, I wanted to be princesses!" Claire says back stubbornly.

"We did that yesterday! We're doing pirates today! Right y/n? It's my turn to pick!" Bronwyn says, sounding upset.

"Bronwyn is right claire, it's her turn, we can do princesses tomorrow, okay?" You say softly, seeing the silhouettes of both of them looking at you expectantly. You can hear claire sigh but she doesn't protest.

The three of you work out a storyline and the roles, Bronwyn was of course the captain while you and claire were her trusty crew members. You'd be sailing to an island to steal hidden treasure.

For about 30 minutes, things are going well, you all are running around running from pretend angry rival pirates, until you accidentally get too far away from the clear space they had established as their play place for your safety. You get near some trees, not realizing yet that you have gone to far, and something snags your foot. You can feel your heart drop as you lose your balance, feeling sharp pain digging into your skin after you fall. You hadn't quite hit the ground, and after a few moments of wriggling and feeling sharp thorns pricking you, you realize you had fallen into a thorn bush.

"Oh my- are you okay?!" Bronwyns voice says suddenly, sounding concerned.

You turn your head, seeing her silhouette standing a few feet away.

Before you can respond she blurts out

"Wait here!! Im going to get miss peregrine!"

You wriggle again, trying to free yourself from the thorns but only getting yourself more snagged, gasping in pain as the thorns prick your skin.

After a few moments you hear heavy footsteps, too heavy to be claire or Bronwyn, and you assume that miss peregrine has come to the rescue.

But as gentle hands slowly lift your arm from the entanglement, you smell a faint aroma of chemicals, dirt, and worn down cologne. That isn't miss peregrine, is it,, enoch? Gently he untangles you and lifts you from the thorn bush.

"Are you okay? This looks like it hurts" he says gruffly after setting you on the soft grass.

You look up at him, faintly seeing his blurry face, he looks to be,, worried?

You nod gently, feeling deeply embarrassed and slightly nervous by his presence.

"Let's get you inside and cleaned up, okay?" His voice sounds reluctant, but you can hear a hint of worry, or care, or something other than hate hidden behind the irritated tone.

You feel him help lift you up, one arm around your waist and one holding your arm around his neck.

You give in to his guidance, partially because you know you need the help, and partially because you've always wanted to be this close to him.

"Thank you" you whisper softly as he walks you to the house. You hadn't yet noticed the sharp stinging in your knees, but as you walk the pain becomes more noticeable. You grimace softly, stopping abruptly to graze your knees with your fingertips, flinching at the pain and feeling a wet substance coating your fingers.

"No, don't touch it, you don't want it to get infected" enoch says firmly as he gently nudges you back into walking.

He leads you into the house, helping you settle down on a couch. You can hear his footsteps fading and you're left alone.

Your knees are throbbing in pain now, and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes, its a familiar faint sting.

You didn't quite know why you were crying, it could be the pain, or the embarrassment, or maybe the shock of the boy you had been silently pining for finally paying you any attention.

"Are you in pain?"

You jump at his voice, you hadn't noticed his footsteps returning.

"Yeah! Im okay!"

You reply quickly, reaching up the quickly wipe your eyes, hissing in pain as your acidic tears sink into one of your scrapes.

He doesn't respond, but he kneels in front of you and you can make out a concerned look on his face.

You can feel him gently take your hand and you feel a cold but relieving sensation over the tear covered scrape.

Little by little he wipes down every cut and scrape with a wet rag, despite your wincing he continues cleaning your wounds silently.

You yelp out in pain as the rag touches one of your knees.

"Shh, you're okay, I'm just cleaning it off"

he whispers.

"Is everything alright?" You hear a calm voice say

You look towards the doorway to see the unmistakable figure of miss peregrine standing.

You nod, looking at her with an expression of embarrassment.

"She had a fall when playing with claire and bronwyn, I'm taking care of it"

Enoch replies

"Very well, come to me if you need anything"

Miss peregrine says softly before walking off.

Enoch continues wiping down your knees, gently holding down your legs to prevent you from pulling away.

"Be still, I'm almost done" he says firmly, moving the rag down to clean the scrapes on your legs.

Once he is finished he sets down the rag and pulls out a first aid kit, you can faintly recognize it, a big red tin box.

You close your eyes as he pulls out gauze and wraps up each of your knees slowly and firmly.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask him, sounding a mix of confused and hopeful, secretly wanting him to say he cares for you.

"Claire got me, I didnt want to disappoint her." He says gruffly, his emotion unintelligible.

You feel a pang of disappointment, but you try your best not to let it show.

"Is that all?" You ask quietly.

Enoch hesitates for a moment, clearly thinking over what to say.

"I didn't want to see you hurt" he replies, sounding as if he's holding something back.

You accidentally let a sigh of disappointment slip as you sit back.

"Dont do that" he says firmly.

"Why?" Your voice sounds wavy, disappointment clear in your tone.

He doesn't respond, and you sigh again.

"I do,, care about you" he sounds hesitant, but genuine.

You dont respond this time.

"Don't do that, say something." You can't make out his tone, but he sounds kind of,, hurt?

"Do you actually or are you just saying that to make me feel better?" You reply, sounding bitter.

"I do actually!" He snaps.

"Then why do you constantly act like I'm a burden?" You snap back, finally losing your patience with him.

"I- i don't know! I don't know how to act around you!" He shouts. "Maybe you just,, make me feel a way I've never felt before and I don't know what to do about it" he says, quieter, sounding both angry and unsure of himself.

You sit there for a moment, processing his words.

"You mean,, you like me?"

He groans, sounding frustrated.

"Maybe! I dont know! okay? Just don't- don't think anything of it, I'm trying to stop it." He sounds hesitant, as if that's not what he really wants.

Unbeknownst to you, enoch had liked you ever since he laid eyes on you. You made him nervous in a way he had never felt before, he loved it and hated it at the same time. So instead of trying to get close to you, he acted like he hated you, it was easier than facing his real feelings, ones he had never had to deal with before.

"You don't have to you know" you whisper.

"What do you mean?" He asks, his voice sounding strained.

You take a deep breath and reply in a voice barely above a whisper, "I like you too."

He goes silent, presumably in disbelief.

"You're not messing with me right? That's not fair."

He says, sounding uncertain.

"I'm not messing with you, I'm being honest!" You says defensively.

"Okay okay! I believe you, but what do we do now?" He says back, sounding frustrated again.

"I don't know, what do you want to do?" You ask quietly.

",,can I try something? You can say no" he whispers.

You nod, trying to make out his face through your blurry vision.

His face suddenly gets closer to yours, and for once you can make out his features, you can feel his warm hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and you nod again.

He leans in closer, seemingly nervous and unsure, so you take your chances and lean into him, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. At first the kiss seems unsure, but as you both lean into it, it turns to a sweet, deep kiss.

As you pull away after a few moments, you can faintly see his flushed face, looking starstruck.

"I- let me continue bandaging you up" he whispers, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You smile, finally at peace knowing you hadnt been pining over him for so long for nothing.

#enoch o'connor #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #mphfpc #enoch #finlay macmillan #enoch o'connor x reader #mphfpc fic #comfort #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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