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buntobeans · 10 months ago

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spilled ice cream is a great wingman - venture x brother’s best friend reader

Nsfw utc. this is FILTHY FILTHY!!!!

Thanx venture’s burrow for this image..

amab sloan

afab reader but is referred to with gender neutral terms (or at least as gender neutral as spanish gets)

you guys are both adults, just to clear up if anything seems uncomfy! i envision Sloan to be around 23 and you’re 21 :))

this is FILTH

like DESCRIBED FILTH!

wrote this on a plane sorry if it’s delulu or uncomfy or grossly described. I think I’m also sick.. also barely edited SORRRYYY also there’s like a severe lack of lube here sad face wahhh wahh ouchie

More italics needed but.. WOMP WOMP!!!!!

i spent way too much time on this

i’ve taken like two classes of Spanish but hoopefully I’ve got it right.. I used the masculine form for some words because I wasn’t sure if I should just make a female reader but— hey anyone can read, regardless of their bits n bobs— let the punana in your heart be your guide <3

OK NOTES OVER!! LOVE YOU E-KITTENS!!!! IM GOING HOMEEEE AND SEEING MY DOG!!!

How the hell did you get here?

Your thighs twitched as you struggled to clamp them shut, but the assured little hushes of Sloan’s voice and their large fingers prying your legs apart strayed you away from doing so.

You opened your mouth and closed it, akin to a fish out of water. Forgetting what you were going to say, your words died on your tongue, shifting into small little whimpers as Sloan rolled their thumb over your swollen clit.

“Doing so good, cariño.” They murmured, tenderly kissing your earlobe. “Mierda. Always dreamed of seein’ you like this.”

“Sloan!” You bounded up to your brother’s best friend as they plopped down the couch of your living room.

“Hey!” They gave you that gorgeous, million dollar grin with their chipped tooth that you’d grown to find so attractive. Sloan instinctually opened their arms for you to leap into, giving you a small affectionate hug. “¿Qué onda? How’s it hangin’?”

“It’s good!” You cheerily piped. Your brother groaned at the sight of you unceremoniously interrupting his time with his best friend, but you ignored it— perhaps you stuck out a tongue at him and gave him a little side eye, but in Sloan’s eyes, you weren’t doing anything wrong! They’d defend you!

Your brother’s best friend. Sloan Cameron. The two had been friends for a while, so it was common for them to come over to your house to chill with your brother. Naturally, you found yourself acquainted with them, popping in to occasionally annoy your brother or include yourself in their conversations. While your brother was most irked by it, Sloan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, instead treating you like a little sibling, often fondly smiling at you and ruffling your hair.

Oh, how you longed for those eyes to gaze at you with a different kind of affection.

You had the biggest crush on your brother’s best friend. You couldn’t help it— Sloan was so darn attractive with their messy brown hair and skin decorated in the occasional freckle, large frame walking around your house in shirts with the sleeves sloppily cut off, highlighting their muscle, and baggy cargo pants. You soaked up all the attention they’d give you like a sponge, eagerly awaiting them to come over to your house and hang out with your brother so you could brush your fingers with their larger ones while handing them snacks under the guise of showing them hospitality.

But they never seemed to notice. So you kept your pining for sweet Sloan a secret, tucked away in the corners of your heart for your silly little crush to never come to fruition.

“I’m going to the store to get some beer,” your brother announced, grabbing his keys and slipping on his shoes. “Need anything?”

“Hook me up with some ice cream!” Sloan yelled as your brother opened the door.

Your brother left the house and it was eerily quiet, Sloan and you being the only presences in the home. You pulled yourself out of Sloan’s arms, suddenly flustered by the proximity— but, of course, missing their warmth.

“We have ice cream. I bought some recently.” You piped up, hopping off the couch to skitter to the kitchen.

Over your dead body would you admit you’d bought the ice cream with Sloan in mind.

“Ooh, sweet! Haha. Pun intended. What flavor?” Sloan asked, eyeing you as you opened the freezer. They let out a little breath as they watched you bend over to find the sweet treat.

“Vanilla.” You answered, taking out the tub of ice cream, opening it, and sticking a spoon in it. It wasn’t like you’d documented Sloan’s favorite flavor in the archives of your mind… not at all.

You eagerly took the tub and ran over to Sloan on the couch.

“It might be a little bit melted because it sat out but—“

You let out a yelp as you stumbled, the ice cream going flying. Panic set in as you realized you were falling.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey there.” Sloan’s arms wrapped around you.

You swore all the oxygen left your body. Their arms were so big, so warm— you gulped, not daring to meet their eyes in fear of the chipped shit-eating grin they might be wearing on their stupidly gorgeous face.

What you did look at, however, was their shirt.

A mess of ice cream coated their body, and you internally screamed.

Mortified, your heart dropped. “Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry— I didn’t mean to drop it at all oh no no—“ Hot tears of frustration pooled in your eyes as your lips tugged into a frown.

“Hey, hey!” Their voice cut you out of your rant and meltdown-in-progress. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. It’s just a little ice cream.”

That was a TOTAL lie. They were practically drenched in vanilla.

You wailed in embarrassment.

“Ay, está bien. Don’t worry! I can just take it off.”

You gulped. You punched yourself in your mind for the lewd thoughts running rampant in your brain, searching for anything to distract yourself with, anything to reply with—

“Y-Yeah?” Fuck. You stuttered. “If you give it to me I can wash it—“

Stupid! Stupid! You were totally feeding into this! Thoughts of Sloan shirtless attacked your mind, and suddenly the room was way hotter than you’d recalled a minute ago.

Sloan chuckled and your soul left your body as you watched them peel their shirt off, showcasing their toned body. They made a show of it, too, confidently lifting their shirt off their body. Holy fuck. Their body was no joke. Accompanied with a bit of chub, they proudly displayed a set of prominent abs. Tattoos of runes, sigils, and ancient gibberish you couldn’t understand (or maybe your head was too clouded to read) were scattered across their body. Their bellybutton had a little piercing and a line of hair trailed down their chest to a place you quickly looked away from before your eyes could meet.

“Like what you see?” They chuckled. You cursed yourself internally. You were practically drooling over them!

“No— I mean yes— I mean—“ You were so close to slamming your head against the wall.

They handed you their shirt and you shakily took it, nervously clutching it like a lifeline to ground you to your surroundings. Thank GOD you were washing it, because you were practically sweating buckets into the fabric from your clammy hands.

“So..? You gonna get off my lap, or..?”

Oh, just kill me already, you thought. Bury me alive and don’t let anybody see my body. Especially my brother. He’d probably laugh his ass off.

You mustered the courage to stare at Sloan. They were so close to you, almost brushing their nose with you and—

Oh.

“There’s something.. poking me..?”

It was Sloan’s turn to be flustered. Heat rose to their cheeks as they gazed down, met with their little “problem”.

“Dios mio,” they gasped. “Don’t pay any attention to that. Lo siento, I am sooo soo sorry—“

You gulped. Was this really happening? No, but— what the hell? Had Sloan really gotten turned on from you sitting in their lap?

Gods. And they were big. Their hardness pressing against you— it wasn’t a joke. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mind as thoughts flitted about— what would it feel like— what would it be like inside you—

“..Do you need help with that?” You squeaked out before you could even register the words in your mind.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

Sloan stared at you with wide eyes, cheeks heated.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sor—“

“You mean that?”

Your hands unconsciously curled further into their shirt. You wanted so desperately for a distraction, to leave this awkward situation, but a tinge of hope and an indescribable pull left you staring helplessly into their eyes.

You nodded. A small nod, but a nod nonetheless.

“…You don’t want this.” Sloan laughed nervously. So you weren’t the only horribly mortified one here. It was almost relieving. Almost. “Do you..?”

Fuck it.

“..I like you. I want this with you. I always have. I mean, I want not just this.. I want you as a whole, I want Sloan Cameron—“ You squeezed your eyes shut as you spoke, too afraid to see their expression. Every moment they didn’t respond to you felt like a century. Your heart dropped with each passing second, wholly terrified of their response.

“..Que lindo..” They softly murmured. Their hand reached under your shirt to gently stroke your hip with their thumb, and you shuddered at the sensation. Their hand was big. And warm. You’d spent too much time staring at it, wondering how it would truly feel against you.

“I’ve always thought you were cute.” They finally said. You opened an eye to peek at them. They were looking away, expression unreadable. “Your excited little smile.. the way you always greet me whenever I come here..” They chuckled anxiously. “Heck, it’d be a lie to say I just come here to hang out with your brother.” They were flustered. You could see it. It was your first time seeing this expression on Sloan, but you prayed to whatever deity that existed that it wouldn’t be the last. You held your breath, hanging onto their every word. “Why do you think I choose your house to hang out with him..? I like.. seeing you.. ah,

demonios, I can’t do this at all..”

Their shirt dropped from your grasp and onto the couch as you stared at them, agape. Were you dreaming?

“So.. are you gonna get off my lap, or are we gonna.. canoodle? Ah, that was stupid of me.. idiot Sloan.. who even says canoodle..” You laughed with a mix of bewilderment and adoration as Sloan spoke, wiggling their eyebrows at you.

Before you knew it, you were kissing them. Kissing them like there was no tomorrow. Savoring their lips. Like this would be the last time you’d ever experience their lips at all. Oh, but you knew it wouldn’t be. You knew you’d have so many more moments like this with them.

Sloan’s hands roamed aimlessly over your body, slipping under your shirt. You let out a soft whimper at the sensation, noting the way goosebumps appeared on Sloan’s skin at the sound and the way they were touching you got more possessive; the way they were touching you got greedier.

“Sloan.” A kiss. “My room is much—“ Another one, this time they missed, landing their lips on the corner of yours. “—Comfier than this—“ You threw your head back like a drowning person gasping for air.

Sloan’s brain was too fuzzy to fully comprehend your words, but they seemed to understand the notion, hoisting you up in their arms by your thighs. You let out a yelp at the sudden sensation of being lifted off the ground. Their discarded shirt covered in ice cream that was probably melted by now (with the help of your ever-growing body heat) was long forgotten on the couch as Sloan mapped a course to your room, their lips never leaving your face.

“Abre la boca.” They ordered. You looked up at them, dazed eyes confused by the sudden Spanish. “Ah.. I mean, open your mouth.” You obediently complied, allowing them to greedily shove their tongue into your mouth. You surely would’ve fallen if it weren’t for their big arms keeping you up.

Their energetic tongue seemed to have a will of its own, messily dancing with yours, rolling over your teeth and mixing their saliva with yours. It was like they were trying to explore every inch of your mouth, charting all the places that had never been reached by anyone else. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced— if there was one thing you knew for sure tonight, it was that Sloan Cameron’s tongue game was insane.

You only understood you were in your room when the sheets hit your back, Sloan atop of you. Their kissing never ceased; your mouth was starting to cramp, but hell, your mind was full of joyful delirium. You’d kiss them for eternity if you could.

You whined as their chipped tooth caught on your lip, the slight stinging sensation surprisingly pleasant. Sloan apologetically sucked on your lip, leaning back to stare at you.

Your lips were a mess. Drool leaked everywhere, and they weren’t too sure if it was from you or them— maybe both— but they were too aroused to care. You made them feel like a horny teen all over again. You, splayed out on your bed, legs quivering, shirt slightly riding up from the sensation of being practically thrown down by Sloan; you looked like a cute little present, one Sloan was itching to unwrap.

“Can I take this off?” Sloan was too impatient for you to answer the question that they themself had asked, fingers eagerly working to strip you of your clothes. You would’ve laughed at their eagerness if it wasn’t for the burning need you felt for them in the moment, instead opting to gaze up at them dumbly.

Sloan sucked in a breath as they gazed at your shirtless figure. You were even more stunning than they’d imagined. Those nights of rubbing one out to the thoughts of their best friend’s cute sibling faded away as they registered that you were truly real and there, under them.

They wanted to ravish you.

They nearly whined, large fingers palming your bra-clad breasts. With shaky hands, they clumsily took your bra off. It took Sloan longer than it should have, them constantly kissing you like they couldn’t be away from your lips for two seconds and them fumbling with the bra strap and trying to stop themself from ripping it off entirely. But damn, if it wasn’t worth it. You looked absolutely beautiful. Sloan’s eyes roved over your body like a hawk to its prey. You shivered, entertaining the possibility of being swallowed up by them.

Their cock pulsed with need at the sight of your bare chest, aching to be relieved. It was almost painful, but Sloan was determined to make this pleasant for you, even in their lust-clouded haze.

“Mierda. So pretty.. I want you. I need you.” They moved their mouth down to greedily attack your breasts, rolling their tongue around your left nipple. They occupied the other with their hand, alternating between gently scratching the bud, flicking it with their thumb and forefinger, and cupping your breast. You squirmed in their hold and they let out a gentle hum of comfort to try and still your movements, which, admittedly, did nothing but make you wetter than you already were.

“Sloan..” They momentarily stopped their ministrations to soak up that heavenly noise, but quickly resumed when you let out a whine of protest.

“Mm?” They mumbled against your breast, stopping their sucking and tongue-prodding to dot kisses down your stomach. “What is it, cariño?”

You shakily sighed, fingers tangling in their hair as you watched them with glazed eyes.

“‘S not enough, I need more.” You protested softly. Sloan’s eyes softened at the sensation. A hint of their teasing nature sparked up and they thought about making you wait for the reprieve you so desperately desired, but they squashed the whim, deciding instead there was plenty of time for that later. Later, when you two were more prepared.

They pulled away from you and groping your tits and you groaned with disappointment, to which they chuckled softly at.

“C’mere.” They shifted on the bed so they were laying down. “Take your pants off.”

That sounded appealing. You gulped, scooting over to them, and obediently stripped yourself to your panties, to which Sloan let out a low whistle at.

Your panties were so cute. Did you doll yourself up in the hopes they’d see you like this and fuck you silly? Sloan sighed dreamily at the thought.

They pulled you onto their lap with ease, and you prayed that your wetness wasn’t soaking through your underwear and onto them. You bit your lip as Sloan hooked their fingers in your panties, slowly pulling them down. They let out a breathy sigh as they stared at the wetness coating your panties. It was them that you were so drenched for. Them. Sloan Cameron.

Fuck, they were so lucky. You were just the cutest.

“On my face.” They said softly, staring at you with love.

“What?” You sputtered. Sloan tossed your panties aside (as much as they enjoyed them) to who-knows-where in your bedroom, occupying their hands with grabbing your thighs. They marveled at the sensation, squeezing gently.

“On my face.” They repeated. “Sit on it.”

You stared at them incredulously. “You want me to sit on your face? But what if I’m too heavy?”

They chuckled, the sound rippling through your body.

“I think I have more than enough strength to handle you sitting on my face.” They said, a bit cockily. You gulped at their brazenness, casting a gaze to the muscles you’d been ogling over earlier.

The offer did seem tempting…

“But what if you, I don’t know, lose air? What if I suffocate you?”

“Suffocating between your thighs sounds like an honorable death.” They flashed that chipped tooth grin at you that you had grown to adore so much. “Sloan Cameron— died because they were too devoted to eating some pussy.” You snorted at their inability to stay serious even when extremely horny, knowing arguing with them was useless.

You shakily clambered atop them. They licked their lips as your sopping wet cunt entered their vision. You hovered over their face apprehensively, but Sloan wasn’t having any of it— you squeaked as they pulled you down onto their face.

You felt your brain turning to mush as you felt Sloan’s face between your legs. Their nose brushed your clit just perfectly, tingling your spine; it was like their face was made for you to sit on— a.. rather odd way of saying you were meant for each other. You gripped their hair in an attempt to steady yourself, but all hopes of regaining some sense of clarity were dashed as you felt them inhale you.

“You smell so good,” they moaned out. “I wanna taste you, I wanna taste you.. amor, oh, mi amor..”

You let out a keen as they ran their tongue along your folds, lapping up your wetness. They sighed like they were in heaven at its taste; You were everything they imagined and more, so much more.

You squealed as they traced your tongue around your entrance prodded their tongue at it.

“C’mon.” They shakily breathed out. “Move for me. You can do it.”

You gulped, knowing nothing but the feeling of their mouth buried in your cunt. The vestiges of embarrassment faded away as you first grinded on their face, replaced by a wave of overwhelming white-hot pleasure.

It was too quick, how you lost yourself in the sensations of their mouth. You let out soft sobs of ecstasy as Sloan ate you out like a starved human. They made no move to stop you from tugging on their hair as you ground yourself against their face, basking in your enjoyment and rather enjoying the pain.

“Sloan, oh, oh, I’m so clo—“

“I’m home! I brought your dumb ice cream!” Yelled the familiar voice of your brother. You immediately snapped out of your lusty trance, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. You stared at Sloan like you’d been caught stealing from a cookie jar— they looked back with the same ‘oh shit’ gaze.

Your brother made his presence known in the living room, setting down the spoils from his trip to the grocery store with a loud, annoyed grunt.

“Where are you two?! Why the hell is Sloan’s shirt on the couch..? And is that ice cream??”

Fuck. You’d forgotten the shirt.

Sloan looked up at you. You looked back, face full of embarrassment, looking to them for help.

“Say something!” They urged you.

“What do I even say??”

“I don’t know!” They whisper-yelled, panic palpable.

You groaned in annoyance. It took every inch of your willpower not to squeeze their face from where it was with your thighs, but they’d probably enjoy that.

“Sloan went home!!” You yelled quickly, trying to sound normal— as if you hadn’t just been given the best damn head of your life.

“Without their shirt?” Your brother yelled back.

You looked at them for an answer. They pursed their lips and creased their eyebrows at you to as if to say “I don’t know!”, but all it did was send ripples of ecstasy through your body. You managed to silence a moan at the sensation of their pursed lips on you, and their eyes tinged with a rekindled fire.

“T-Turns out we had ice cream!!” You yelled back. “They spilled it and just went home without it! Th-they said they were tired!”

Your brother groaned in annoyance, mumbling a “That sounds like something Sloan would do”. You sighed in relief, though it was short lived as Sloan’s lips closed around your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head and you had to stifle the loudest whine— with limited success, as it came out like a little grunt. You slapped them from where you were, though it was light, your head too consumed with pleasure to truly do any damage.

“Keep moving,” Sloan murmured against you. You moaned softly at their breath against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Are you crazy?” You whimpered.

They raised an eyebrow at you, as if asking you to really answer that question. Yes. Yes, Sloan Cameron was batshit insane. And yes. You loved them. And the idea was turning you on far too much for you to admit.

You slowly continued rolling your hips across their face, gasping quietly at the sensation.

“Yo, are you sick up there?! You sound awful! Like, more than usual!” Your brother yelled. You cursed under your breath. Of all the times your brother had to show a semblance of care (even if it was backhanded), why now?

You gripped Sloan’s hair tighter, trembling with each roll of your hips. Drool fell from your mouth and onto the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’m- uh- I’m naked-!” You screamed. You cursed softly under your breath. Your tone was far too shaky to even sound believable.

Sloan giggled against your skin. You squealed, kicking what you could of their body lightly with your foot. They let out a quiet “oomph”, which did little to help you, as it blew air against your swollen clit. You threw your head forward, nearly burying your face in the bed. You really dug yourself a hole with anything you did.

“Ew!” Your brother blanched from the living room. “So I bought all this beer for nothing?”

Please leave, please leave, please leave-

“I’m not gonna waste this. And I definitely don’t wanna see you naked! I’m gonna go to a friend’s house and drink this!!” You sighed in extreme relief. “I’ll probably stay over! Don’t burn down the house! And clean up that shirt and fucking ice cream!” Even better. He’d be gone the whole night. You felt almost giddy at the thought.

You halted your movements, which Sloan pouted at, until you heard the door click shut. You almost burst into tears in relief.

“Thank goodne—“ You trailed off into a loud yelp as Sloan flattened their tongue against your clit. Any possible words escaped you, torn from your mind as Sloan endlessly abused the sensitive bud.

Their hands squeezed your thighs, nails gently scratching small marks into it, heightening your pleasure.

“Close— I think ‘m— Sloan— Sloan!!” You shrieked, clenching their hair and tugging. They moaned into you at the feeling, speeding up their movements to help you reach your peak. You assisted, grinding faster against their face, your imminent release the only thing in your mind.

You cried as you felt yourself cum, digging your heels into the sheets. Your whole body seized up in the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced, and you collapsed on them, exhausted. Your thighs ached, but you couldn’t imagine how Sloan felt.

..actually, you could. They were beaming, licking off the traces off wetness you’d left on their face like it was fine dining. You were thoroughly embarrassed by the picture, but it was so addicting to stare at.

You panted softly, burrowing your face in their neck. You could feel yourself sweating, the heat in your body doing little in terms of leaving.

“Good?”

“Way too good.. What ab’t you?” You murmured into their neck. They blinked, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed their mind.

“What about me?” They looked just like a clueless puppy. You wrapped your arms around their waist, absentmindedly squeezing their stomach.

“This whole thing started ‘cuz you were hard.” You mumbled, gently raking your nails across their body.

They groaned in embarrassment. “Oh, right.. umm.. don’t worry about it.”

You pouted up at them. They cooed internally at the sight; you were just the cutest!

“No. You pleased me.. I should please you back..”

They sighed with a soft little chuckle. “I pleased you, and by pleasing you, I was pleased. Wait, does that even make any sense?” They hummed, thinking.

You still weren’t satisfied, fingers tugging at the band of their pants. Sloan gulped nervously, feeling heat spread through their body again. Their large, clammy hands covered yours, dwarfing them.

“Honestly, cariño, you really don’t have to—“

“But what if I wanna?” You asked softly.

Sloan let out a sigh.

“I can’t argue with that.”

You eagerly slipped their pants down along with their boxers decorated with assortments of puppies on them, admiring their built legs. You traced the trail of hair from the bellybutton piercing on their stomach down to where their pubes peeked out. You mewled softly, taking in the sight of them.

Your eyes trailed down.

“Oh.” You mumbled.

Sloan laughed nervously. Was that a good “Oh” or a bad “Oh”?

You were taken aback. By no means was it not long, but what you were impressed by was.. the girth. Sloan’s cock was thick. You gulped at the size, but were determined not to let yourself be intimidated.

You spat in your hand, slowly wrapping a hand around them. Awed by the way one hand barely fit around their length, you slowly pumped your hand. It was like you were entranced.

Sloan was weak. They were on the verge of crumbling. You looked so adorable, so fucking innocent, staring at their cock oozing precum with fascination, quickly looking up at them with each stroke to gage their reaction. You were so, so, eager to please them, and they felt like they were going to cum embarrassingly quick.

They felt like they were in some porn— except nothing they were feeling was an act— you were really there, with them, their skin was on fire, oh, they loved you so much. Oh, they felt depraved. Your hand on them was bliss. Pure bliss.

When you licked the tip of their cock, they almost came immediately. They cursed and willed themself to hold out a little longer.

You were thoroughly enjoying their reactions; Every shake, every shiver, every keen was addicting to you. You wanted to draw more from Sloan, discover more, feel more. With them.

You gave a vein a little kitten lick and they pulled on your hair. You gasped in surprise, sending more of their length down your throat. You gagged on it, hot tears forming in your eyes, but oh, seeing them keel over was so worth it.

You absentmindedly cupped their balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Sloan grunted. They were so, so close.

“Mierda, mierda.. te quiero, ah..”

You understood the gist of what they were saying, and let out a muffled “wuvvvyoutoo” against their cock, to which they finally threw their head back with a loud groan.

They came. Hard.

You gulped down a bit, pondering the salty taste. You pulled back, the rest coating your mouth. Sloan looked at you.

You were absolutely filthy, their cum coating your face. They reached out a thumb to wipe your mouth, but you licked it off your lips, just like they’d done when they ate you out.

Sloan gulped.

Yeah, you would never be their best friend’s sibling again.

Just you.

You plopped into their lap, too exhausted to say anything. They sighed, absolutely lovesick, caging you in their arms. They peppered your face with much more innocent kisses.

“I love you.” They mumbled softly.

“Mm.” You tiredly leaned into them, finding entertainment in tracing your hands along their tattoos. “..love you too..”

They smiled softly, nuzzling into your neck.

Sloan was whipped.

so like i kinda fell off at the end 😺 but yeah this is FILTH! if you read this far you’re a SINNER!!! A FREAK!!

plsplspls tell me if it’s not as gender neutral as it can b and if I can fix anything with sloan or you !! love you mwah

sighs I need to write sloan putting it in and becoming absolutlyelyl pathetic

#sloan cameron x reader #sloan cameron #overwatch x reader #sloane cameron #venture overwatch #venture x reader #venture x you

205 notes · View notes

clouji · 4 days ago

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No Note Today?

+ fluff, barista reader x hamzah, coffee shop, chase as bff

💟

He walked in as if he had been coming here for years, but the fact that you had never seen him before. Black hoodie, camo cap, messy soft curly hair, tired boba eyes, and a smile that increases your oxytocin levels. He got his favorite coffee and sat in his usual spot, in the corner by the window, laptop out, headphones in, and stayed there like a glue for hours.

Then he came back. The next day... And the next.... And next, you call it.

For whatever reason, he suddenly become your crush. Not a weird type. Just a happy little crush, the “I giggle when he says hi” or “Is he gonna be here today?” Type of crush.

“Y/N, you’re so obsessed,” your co-worker bestie Chase said randomly as you drew something on the side of his cup before calling out his name.

“I’m not!!,” you said, handing it to him with a practiced smile. “It’s just fun and gives me little motivation.”

He raises a brow. “You deadass wrote 'you're someones reason to smile.'”

You roll your eyes. “Come on! Just let me be happy, okay?.”

His name is Hamzah... You find it funny that he never mentioned the notes. So you weren't sure if he saw them. But you continued to do it. Every single day, there is a different stupid one, like:

“This is your 4th coffee this week. Blink twice if you’re okay.”

“Can I also scroll thru your ig reels. I'm bored :3.”

That one got a smirk. Your face turned red like crazy and had to go to the back and pretend to restock cups just to recover.

⏭️

Then one Thursday morning, it was a busy day with a lot of customers, and your manager called you to the back to help your new co-worker. You didn't realize you'd handed him his coffee without a note until he was standing near the pickup counter, staring at the plain and boring blank cup.

You were wiping your hands on your apron, grabbed a marker just to write a quick note-

But he raised the cup suddenly and gave you a look. “No note today?”

You just looked at him, not knowing what to say because you're already panicking inside your head, like that Sponge Bob brain office scene (ifykyk).

“Oh, shit. I mean—” you stuttered, rubbing the back of your head. “It was kinda busy and I had to… help my new coworker and fight a dragon and travel to-”

“I was starting to think you don't like me anymore,” he said frowning, casually leaning on the counter.

You gasped. “Wait.... You read them?”

He grinned. “Ofcourse I do. I even kept a few sticky notes.”

Your jaw dropped on the floor. “No freaking way.”

He grabbed inside his laptop bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of colored paper. You could recognize your own handwriting.

“Seriously? You even kept the one where I said 'your hoodie probably smells good'?” You questioned as your voice sounded quiet and awkward.

“It does smell good,” he said. “Wanna find out?”

You thinking... is this flirting? Were you both flirting? Was this real life or just a fever dream- I need Chase to slap me right now!

“I mean...If you don't mind.”

He took a sip from his cup. “But only if I get another note tomorrow.”

You giggle. “I gotchu.”

He turned to walk back to his usual spot, then paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, and by the way—” he said, “you’re not the only one with a crush. Why do you think I come here every single day.?”

Chase saw you behind the counter ten minutes later, gripping a marker and spacing out like you just drank a gallon of coffee.

“Did he punch you or something, hello?” He asked, waving his hand infront of your face.

Now you suddenly grab a cookie chip from the counter and slap a sticky note on it, you wrote: “If I write my number on your cup tomorrow, will you actually text me?"

💟

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x you

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hehe-69 · 19 days ago

Text

Bonfire Part 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Time for the Wolfpack on crack. I hope you enjoy this lil palette cleanser. Because it’s going to get rough in the future. (This is short af because it’s just me writing more Wolfpack)

Tag list: @coldonez

—————

“You’re kidding me,” you say shock filling your voice. “You’re telling me that vampires turn into fucking disco balls in the sunlight!” The frustration in your voice makes Jacob throw his head back and laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jacob will protect you.” Jared teases and immediately gets horrified as Jacob glares at him. “Dude, quit stirring the pot before you get your ass beat.” Amusement fills Embry’s voice as he speaks. “Yeah no kidding, you’re lucky (Y/N) is here or else you’d be Jacob’s new chew toy.” Seth adds through a mouth full of marshmallows.

“I’d pay to see that.” Leah grins as she speaks, she still hasn’t forgiven Jared for drinking all of Seth’s Capri Suns.

“Oh Paul is 100% Squidward.” Seth says as you and him take turns assigning each member of the group sponge bob characters. “Embry is SpongeBob without a doubt.” You announced and hear Embry say ‘YUSSSSS!’

“QUILL IS PACTRICK BECAUSE HES MY LOVER!” Embry shouts out joining in. “DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?!!” Quill laughs out.

“Wait, Jared would be doodle bob.” You say and start pointing at him making doodle bob noises and you start wheezing laughing. “WHY DOES IT MAKE SO MUCH SENSE!” Seth gets out through fits of laughter.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to take a nap.” Jacob tells you, you’ve been laughing for at least 15 minutes. “Yeahhhhh I think so too.” You are literally crying laughing and Seth is still wheezing. Everyone else has begun laughing either from the doodlebob joke or from how unhinged you and Seth’s laughter has become.

Now that things have calmed down, you all sit by the fire and just talk. For hours, just enjoying each others company. And you can’t help but notice, that Quill and Embry’s legs are pressed against each other.

—————

Weeks after the bone fire, at Emily’s house

“Hey guys!” Seth’s voice is filled with excitement, finally he was going to be involved with the boys. Quill and Embry had told Seth to come talk to them after helping Emily clean up supper. “You wanted to tell me something?”

“Me and Quill are together.” Embry says straight faced and Seth laughs. “Okay I’m not falling for another one of your pranks.” Seth laugh fades as he realizes how dead serious the two boys look. “This is a prank…right?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Quill says cryptically, and then Embry grins widely, pure evil shines from within his eyes. “Why tell me this?” Seth asks, and he fears the answer. “Because either way…no one will ever believe you.” Embry chuckles as he finishs Quill’s sentence. And the two boys walk away. Seth is left in the dark, horrified. They’re right, no one will ever believe him. Seth makes the saddest hurt puppy face known to man and slowly walks back to Jacob’s truck.

No one will ever know the truth…or will they heheheheheh.

————————

Tis a short but sweet fill part, I have much work to do��😈😈😈

Here’s a hint, it has to do with two bffs falling in love. ITS QUILL AND EMBRY IM SOLD ON THIS UNINTENTIONAL LOVE STORY. EMBRY X QUIL

So ummm yeah, small break from (Y/N) and Jacob but they will be back. Part 8 will on hold. I’m gonna make a one shot about Embry and Quill about them getting together in this universe. If you don’t like them together as more then bros in love you can just ignore it.

Jacob and reader are side characters in it toooooo

Tanks for reading. Part 9 will involve Bell’s wedding sooo angst and so on will be in the forecast.

Id like to restate that I will not abandon this long fic till it is done I’m just taking a bit of a break from it because I’ve made 7 Parts so far and it’s not even been a week since the first part.

Enjoy your peace while it last WUHAHAHAHAHA

Also as always feel free to request something you would like to see in future parts

Love ya🫶

Part 8

#wolf pack #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves #jacob black x you #jacob x reader #jacob black x oc #jacob black fluff #jacob black fanfic #jacob twilight #jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #twilight #twilight jacob #jared cameron #seth clearwater

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makncheese12 · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request the most cheesy one bed trope with fem!reader x Amber Freeman fluff? Maybe they all have a movie night before? 💙

I love, love, love Amber freeman so yes. I have a thing against one bed trope because it happened to me but I will give you this Anon🫶🏻

Amber freeman x Fem!reader

Masterlist

Warnings: my writing, softy soft amber

A little closer

You sat quietly in the dark room. Eyes reading over the words with the little lighting you had from the dim street lamp. The only sounds heard are the quiet voices on the TV and the quiet snores of the person next to you who began to shuffle slowly next to you.

You look over to see your girlfriend sitting up slowly, back turned to you as she raises her arm up clearly rubbing her eyes before stretching her arms up.

You smiled at the sight of the oh so tough Amber Freeman acting like a cute toddler in her tired state. It was times like these that you appreciated the most, seeing Amber like this when no one else could.

Though you knew you still weren’t allowed to tell anyone else about it or she would in fact kill both you and the people you told. Not that you ever would, you wanted to be the only one to see and know this.

She pats the bed for a moment, head almost yanking to the spot she was patting making your smile grow.

You reach out and touch her back before running your hand up and down on it making her look back at you with half closed eyes.

As soon as she recognized you, she turned and moved you arm with the book in your hand — while glaring at it — before basically laying her entire body on you.

“You moved.” She mumbled as her face buried itself into your neck making you lift you head and put your chin on top of it.

“No, you did. If I remember correctly you said ‘you’re too sweaty’ with sweat across your forehead and moved away.” You stated matter of factly, chuckling when she pinched you stomach.

“Ow.” You mumble as you feel her breath fan across your neck. She sucks in a breath heavily before slowly letting the air out.

She does it again and this time you squirm, the feeling tickling you slightly. “What are you doing, stop it.” You say as you playfully try to push her head away.

A loud whine escapes her throat making you stop. She really must have been tired to be acting like this, even for you this wasn’t normal. “You smell good, I like it.”

“Well, as your girlfriend I would hope so.” You mumble, pulling the book over her back to continue where you stopped while using your other hand to rub her back.

She grumbles quietly before pushing her back up and continues to bump the book, unable to focus on the words you roll your eyes and place a hand on her head and scratch her scalp.

It only helps for a moment before she reaches up and grabs your arm before yanking it down causing the book to go flying out of your grasp and onto the floor with a thund.

“Amber, what the hell!” You say as she moves back to her comfortable position in your neck. You sit in silence as she mumbles to herself.

She stops for a moment as you begin rubbing her back and patting her head before continuing her quiet mumbles

“What?” You ask turning your head, she huffs before her incoherent mumbling becomes louder making you roll your eyes once again in one night.

“Speak up baby, I can’t hear you.” You say making her huff even louder before moving her mouth from your (her) sweat shirt.

“We didn’t finish the movie.” She says, voice raising louder than needed but getting the point across. You look to the screen to see the movie you set had finished just hours before, not playing an after midnight show.

“Correction,” you say as you reach over the remote. “You didn’t finish the movie, I did.” You finish making her pinch you again before snatching the remote.

She mindlessly scrolled through the different movies and shows before glancing toward you.

“Why are you still awake, anyway?” She asks before looking back to the TV before setting on an older episode of sponge bob.

“You’re the one who decided it was good idea to get me coffee before school,” you say watching her throw the remote and settle back into her spot, expect this time much closer.

“You’re to blame.” You finish as you wrap your arms around her, ignoring the third pinch as your eyes focus on the screen and the breathing of you girlfriend.

After a few minutes she began squirming in your hold causing you to look down to see why she was so restless.

“Amber,” you call as she continues to move about on you. “What’s wrong now?”

“You’re not close enough.” She grumbles as she uses her hands to hold herself up. “Get closer.”

“I don’t think that’s possible babe.” You chuckle and as she crawls over you. She glares at you making you smile.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want to be closer to me?” She asks looking down at you, slightly tilting her head.

You smile at the sight, tiredness clear in her eyes. The whole situation was adorable and you couldn’t get enough. If only she were like this all the time. Clingy, needy and soft. It would be perfect with the personality she has.

Of course, she was nicer to you than anyone else. Much nicer, definitely a ‘mean to everyone but you’ type but this was different from how she’d usually act.

“I never said that, I just said I didn’t know if it were possible.” You smile and stare down at you, moments passing before she spoke again.

“Yes it is, I personally can get a little closer.” She mumbled before dropping herself completely on top of you causing you to huff from the suddenly weight and pressure. “Yes, this feels much closer.” You mumble, looking down you see her head resting gently on your chest.

She seemed less restless now making you smile.

You both go back to watching TV before her breath evens out. Your smile only grows as you reach toward your night stand and grab your phone.

You switch it to camera mode and snap a few pictures of her squished face on your chest.

You scroll through pictures and contemplate sending it to Mindy or Tara. Knowing the consequences, it would end badly but it can’t get too bad. For you, at least.

You smirk and open your messages. If you die, you’ll die peacefully knowing you have these cute pictures in your phone, hidden from your raging girlfriend in the private file.

You just had to share how close she thought she could get.

A/N:

The end is a tad bit rushed I’ll fix it later<3

#Amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #scream #scream 5 #scream franchise #amber freeman x you #soft amber freeman

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insomniac4000 · 3 months ago

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Chained Together 4

ChrisMD had two little black books, one for women and one for Youtubers. Being in a ChrisMD video came with a lot of perks and connections, between in two even more so. Chris was one of those creators who also featured up and coming Youtubers a lot on her channel. It was almost like a rite of passage, the other big Youtube channel creators were The Sidemen, you knew if you made either or even both of those channels then you were on your way. Thanks for her connections with Chris she had now met Ethan and Harry and during a moment on the video where they all went to the pub to have some food and drink Florence bonded with them.

“How the fuck are you putting up with him all day?” Ethan uttered when Arthur was very enthusiastically talking about, and laughing at a particular moment in Sponge Bob.

“He’s harmless and he gets all the girls viewing…” Florence replied nonchalantly, she looked over at her partner who was giggling away to himself, she just sipped her fruity cider with a smirk on her face.

“You must have the patience of a saint,” Ethan replied.

“He reminds me of my little brother a lot…” Florence started, she stopped quickly and took another sip of her drink.

“That works, don’t you have like twelve brothers and sisters?” Harry teased.

“Eight. I’m the third oldest and oldest boy,”

“Man your dad must have been disappointed,” Florence chimed in trying to shift the focus from her.

“Why do you think he had so many after?” Arthur replied smiling.

It was over a week since that shoot and while that video hadn’t been released yet, the 20 v 1 had been. The response as a whole was positive, Florence was praised for her “good vibes” and people seemed genuinely impressed at her special skill of juggling. It was a few days after this she got a text from a number she didn’t recognise.

Hi, this is Simon (Miniminter) Ethan gave me your number. We’re going to be shooting a video in a couple of weeks time I was just wondering if you would be up for it? It would require you to be handcuffed to another Youtuber for forty-eight hours though….

Florence couldn’t believe it. The Sidemen wanted her to be in a video, they were asking her personally and it wasn’t a dating video it was a full content video. Not that she had anything against dating videos of course as she had done them but there was something about other videos which felt different, there was more opportunity for content rather than a quick few minutes and then onto the next person. Florence held her phone with a slightly shaky hand as she walked to Esme’s room. She knocked on the door and walked in giggling when she heard her friend shout come in.

“You will not believe what has just happened!” Florence screamed as she sat on the end of Esme’s bed.

“You won the lottery?”

“I’ve won the Youtube lottery,” Florence replied, her voice full of excitement and enthusiasm. With a slightly shakey hand she showed the messaged to Esme who took the phone and read the words carefully.

“OH MY GOD!” The blonde screamed, jumping up from the bed, Florence joined her, her face beaming.

“I know! Twenty million subscribers Es, this is going to be such a massive opportunity,” the brunette replied, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“We should go out for drinks to celebrate!” Esme suggested, Florence thought it had been a while since she had a night off.

“The Den?” Esme asked with a twinkle in her eye. The Den was known for the place Esme always got lucky. Florence laughed, allowing her housemate to have her fun.

“Give me an hour to get ready?”

“Make it a little more, I need to wash my hair,” Esme admitted as she pulled her blonde strands from her messy bun.

“Oh wow you do,” Florence joked giggling as she walked back towards the door.

The Den was a generic trendy Shoreditch bar; the drinks were expensive, the music could be cheesy but it was always packed out with revellers wanting a good time.

The girls had found a little shelf by the bar to rest their drinks on, not wanting to pay an extortionate amount for a table. Esme was wearing a khaki dress which complimented her blonde hair nicely, her long legs were on show the dress had long sleeves to add a touch of class. Florence went for a classic black dress it had straps which criss-crossed at the back, held together by a bow.

“Little bit dangerous wearing a dress like that in a place like this, one wrong move and everything will be on show!” A voice came from behind Florence. She looked back and was relieved to see Chris standing there, and he wasn’t alone. George, both Arthur’s and Bach were with him.

“That was such a creepy thing to say to a woman in a nightclub,” Arthur TV piped up, slurring a little.

“No it’s not, plus it’s not like she’s a stranger,” Chris protested.

“Still a little bit creepy, plus I don’t think we know each other that well for you to joke about me being naked yet,” Florence added. She had a smile on her face thought which let Chris know she wasn’t truly mad at him. Esme cleared her throat as she looked at the five men in front of her.

“Oh sorry, guys this is my friend and flatmate Esme. Ez this is Chris, Arthur Frederick, Arthur Hill, Italian Bach or Isaac and erm, this is George,” Florence trailed off a little at the end, she really didn’t know how to take George and was also feeling a little odd because of the look George was giving her.

“Nice to meet you all,” Esme smiled, her glance landing on Chris for a second longer compared to the others.

The girls ended up joining the boys for the night, safety in numbers. Esme and Florence, especially Esme attracted a lot of male attention, it wasn’t always wanted and tonight Esme didn’t appear interested in anyone except for the curly haired man who was at least a couple of inches shorter than she was and he seemed more than happy to oblige.

At one point when Florence was returning with Arthur from the bar, drinks in hand when a guy started to speak to her. She looked at Arthur, her eyes begging him not to leave her side and he didn’t instead waiting for her until she made her excuses and left with him as they rejoined their group.

“Not your type?” Those were the first words George had said to Florence all evening.

“I’m not in the mood tonight,” Florence replied, also serving as a warning to George, she just wanted to dance and wasn’t in the mood to play mind games.

“Well that goes against everything I’ve read,” George mumbled back before taking his drink from Arthur and downing a quarter of it.

George and Florence didn’t exchange words for the rest of the night. She caught him looking a couple of times, she really wanted to ask him why he seemed so weird around her, another drink and she might have but the group were ready to go home.

“Chris seems nice,” Esme slurred when her and Florence fell out of the lift.

“He is, just go easy on him. He’s small.”

#george clarke #george clarkey #george clarke imagine

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litnerdwrites · 9 months ago

Text

Clandestine Affairs - Lust X OC (II)

A/N: Okay, sorry for the wait on chapter 2, but it's my birthday on Saturday, so I want to get through as many of my obligations as I could so I could enjoy my weekend with it. I can't promise that the next chapter will be out in a timely manner either though, since my sister's birthday is exactly a week from mine, and I'll be prepping for hers. I'll be back at it after that, hopefully.

However, I did get myself the Waterstones exclusive edition for Throne of the Fallen. Beautiful cover, sprayed edges. No bonus content, which is sad. I really wanted to read it, but I still love how it looks on my shelf. I also really want to read Heartless by Marissa Meyres, but I'm having trouble getting started. Motivation? Anyone? On a side note, would y'll like to see me write short snippets for some fun prompts every now and then? Just for fun, and hopefully get some writing critiques if anyone has any.

Feel free to comment what you think will happen next, or what you hope will happen next. Also, requests are open, and let me know if you want to be added to a tag list. I do have some Euphemia content I'm editing. Hopefully, I'll have it up next week, if not chapter 3, since that is where things are going to start getting a bit more interesting, now that I've set things up.

WC: 1509

TW: Nothing outside the canon typical.

Masterlist Kingdom of the Wicked Masterlist Clandestine Affairs Masterlist

Something felt… different.

Despite not having slept, spreading the night dancing and chatting with the Malvagi instead, Amara felt… Lighter.

She found herself humming softly as she walked into Sea & Vine for breakfast, waving at shopkeepers setting up their stalls for the day, and even stopped to indulge in idle chatter with the few who had some time to spare.

It wasn’t until she found herself outside of the bookstore her family ran that she felt those imaginary cinder blocks appear around her ankles again. Each step seemed to take more effort than the last, as she forced herself to lift her feet instead of dragging them, and the invisible chains seemed to double in weight as she raised her foot to remove her shoes.

Amara’s heart rate picked up with every tiny noise she made as she entered her father’s store. The click of the door opening as she turned the handle had her pausing in apprehension, before timidly pushing open, only as far as necessary to squeeze her body through. Amara stiffened further and further, for every second that the hinges creaked, or the floorboards squeaked beneath her. She flinched as the bell above the entrance rang, alerting potential occupants of presence, but when nobody came, she gently pushed the door shut, shoulder staying hunched and stiff as the bell rang again, softer this time, and the door fell shut with a thud and a click.

It was silent for another beat, before quickly slipping her slippers back on, she creeps through the store, to the back, and finds her way to the kitchen. Only once she’s shut the door, does Amara let out a tiny, tentative sigh of relief.

Rolling up her sleeves, she begins tittering about the kitchen, grabbing eggs, flour, sugar, and other ingredients, to start on breakfast. Within an hour, the Cornettis are in the oven, and the table is set with bread, jam, and freshly brewed cappuccinos, so she took the chance to head upstairs and take a quick sponge bath before changing. She paused momentarily when she heard voices from up the hall and rushed back down again, as silently as possible while the voices turned into movement, prompting me to be quick.

It was only when the table was set to perfection did she hear footsteps headed down the stairs. She took the opportunity to duck into the back garden, and begin setting up the various seating areas that could be accessed by a side door in the store, that leads down a quaint little path, to the back garden that overlooks the beach and ocean.

Even without taking count, there were more boats bobbing over the water, amongst white foamed waves, now that it was daytime, then there were last night. Light reflected off of the azure pool, concealing the darkest depths below.

Peaceful. At least on the surface.

The thought was uncomfortably familiar.

In the quiet of the early morning, Amara found her mind drifting back to last night.

She had danced with the Prince until her feet ached, losing herself in every glide and tug and twirl. Music, unlike any music she’d heard in their mortal realm, echoed, even now, in the depth of her mind. Elegant, like something you’d expect to be played for nobility, yet something about that music touched her very soul, as if it somehow had hands and puppeteered her body through the motions while her mind drifted, though it never drifted too far from her dance partner. She had only really clocked the hours passing when she felt herself slump against Lust’s arm, and her breaths came out in pants.

When she’d moved to pull away, she’d almost collapsed into the sand after feeling the white hot pain shoot through her feet. Lust gave her a crooked grin, and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to a nearby rock formation. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he’d placed her down and begun removing her shoes, the grin widening when he noticed how much she’d worn them through in the hours they’d danced, and seemed pleased by it. At some point, a goblet, likely worth more than every store on her street, filled with water, and some cookies, frosted in purple and silver royal icing. They looked like something foreign nobility would have at tea parties or concerts.

She raised a brow at Lust, before taking a hesitant bite. The sweetness had her eyes widening and cheeks going red. Lust merely snickered at her, to which she huffed, and attempted to kick him, only for him to catch her foot easily from where he stood. With an all too calm expression, he began inspecting her foot, eyes narrowing every now and then, as though he were a doctor. He even began tutting her when she tried to pull it back. Then, that cursed demon had threatened to resort to ‘his own brand of discipline’ should she attempt to assault him again.

Her eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of her flushed cheeks, and the way she froze in place at the memory. At the time, she’d huffed and turned back to her biscuits, with red tinting her cheeks, but now, as she thought back to that moment, she felt a fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

Anxiety, surely.

“Amara!”

She flinched at the voice that so rudely pulled her from her thoughts.

“Oh, good morning father,” she greets, quickly walking over to him, shoulders stiff, “Did you like your breakfast?”

He pulled his eyes from the set up back garden, turning to examine her.

Amara remained stiff under his gaze.

“Breakfast was a bit… much, this morning, Amara,” he comments. “Do go easy on it tomorrow, lest we run out of food for lunch and dinner,”

“Yes father. I’ll do better tomorrow,”

“Oh, and Amara? Later this week, go into town and use some of your salary to buy something… respectable to wear. We’ll be having guests over next week,”

“Yes father,”

He smiled down at her, before pulling her forward, into his chest.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m going to open the shop. Make sure you have a quick breakfast before coming down to help too,”

Amara barely suppressed her squeak as her father pulled her into his arms.

“Y-yes father,”

“Pardon?” he asked, tightening his grip.

“Yes father,”

She spoke clearly, willing herself not to stutter. She shrunk under his touch, as her father ruffled her hair, before he went back inside.

Amara didn't move.

Clasping her hands together, she inhaled a deep breath, before exhaling again.

Then inhaled again.

And released it.

Again.

Release.

Once she felt as though her nerves weren’t at risk of frying her brain, Amara went back towards the kitchen. Silently, she took in the empty platters, and cups, with little more than crumbs left over. Sighing, she began washing the dishes, putting everything away. After helping herself to the very last slice of bread, smothered in some homemade jam, she headed out to the store front.

“That took a while. You weren’t dallying were you, sweetheart?”

“No Father. I cleaned up, ate, and came straight out,” she quickly assures.

He ruffled her hair again, pressing down slightly harder than necessary.

She suppressed her wince.

“Just don’t take so long next time, alright?”

“Yes father,” she nodded when he left.

Amara watched as her father wandered into the back, likely going up to his study to work. As he left, the tension left her shoulders, just a little, and a sigh of relief escaped her.

How long has it been since it happened?

Weeks?

Months?

Part of her didn’t want to believe that it’d been so long since her mother had been found dead in an alley, heart carved from her chest. She’d been there for most of the night, it seemed, left to rot. Amara had broken down by the corpse, prepared for burial at the church. She’d sobbed and screamed and begged the Goddesses to bring her back until-

The ringing of the bell drew her from her thoughts. Amara spun on her heel, ready to greet the first customer of the day, a bright, welcoming smile on her face.

“Good mor-”

The parchment gently landing on the desk in front of her caught her eye.

She glanced left.

Then right.

Then towards the door.

Despite clearly having heard the bell ring, the store was empty, and the door shut. Nothing had been moved, or altered, aside from the tiny slip of parchment now resting on her desk.

Reluctantly, Amra reached for it, examined it.

Then she glanced left again.

Then right again.

Then she slowly unfolded the parchment.

A sharp gasp was pulled from her lips at the contents.

She staggered back.

The parchment fluttered from her fingers to the ground.

Miss Willows, I found such enjoyment in your company last night, that I find myself craving more. In exchange for a sinfully delightful reward, please come grace me with your company once more, where we shared our last dance. Forever yours, L.

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the-oaken-muse · 2 years ago

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Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse

Dannymay Day 24: NASA

Read it on AO3, if you dare.

Of all the places in the Infinite Realms Juno could have sent him for community service, it had to be the fucking Ghost Zone. He never thought he’d miss the Netherworld, but at least there he didn’t have to deal with Warden Pasty Face and the stick up his entire ass.

He banked a hard left, bobbing and weaving through the zero gravity obstacle course provided by the ectoplasmic landscape. Behind him, the thud of armor against rock let him know he was down a pursuer, as one of the guards collided with an island of floating debris.

God, this place was a dump.

He dove through a thick patch of green fog before ducking behind one of the many floating doors littering the not-air; grateful that he didn’t have breath to catch. Walker’s goons zoomed past his hiding place, following his previous trajectory on a trail that didn’t exist.

Ha! Suckers!

He may have evaded them for now, but he would have to keep moving. When they realized that he’d lost them, they would fan out and search, leaving no stone unturned until they eventually found him and dragged him squirming back to that hell hole of a prison to be crushed under Walker’s boot once more. He needed to put as much distance between himself and this part of the Zone as possible. Or better yet, find a way to the human realm.

He looked to his left, green. He looked to his right, green. He looked down, an endless abyss of green stared back at him.

Looks like he was going to have to ask for directions. Great.

The next door he came across was a deep shade of plum with intricate panels of solid mahogany and a crystal knob. He yanked it open.

“Hey! Anybody home? Hello? I’m lookin’ for—”

A sopping wet sponge splashed against his face. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down, down, down and falling into the chasm below, leaving his face dripping suds. “…the ...nearest portal to Earth.”

The door slammed shut.

“Ugh, soap.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing it with fresh grime.

He floated over to another door, this one a dark weathered indigo with a heavy iron latch. He pulled it open with a loud creak, “Wazzup!”

A burly, tattooed arm emerged from the dark interior and slapped him across the face with a dead fish before slamming the door shut.

Jesus, the ghosts here were rude. At least it wasn’t soap this time.

Next, he spun the wheel on a silvery lavender hatch until it popped up with a hiss.

“Hullo down there!” his voice echoed back. “I’m lookin’ for a human portal! Can ya help a brother out?”

A thick tentacle, in a green so dark it was almost black, snaked out of the hole. In a blink, the tentacle lashed itself around his neck, crushing his useless windpipe.

“Look, I’m a hugger as much as the next guy, but this is a little forward, don’tcha think?” he wheezed.

In response, it whipped him back and flung him into the infinite green like a pitcher throwing a fastball.

He soared, eyes watering, hair whipping, and jowls flapping, for what felt like an eternity, but the five watches on his arm all agreed was only a few minutes.

His flight ended abruptly when he splatted against a strange metal structure. Its surface hummed with energy, vibrating his entire being. He peeled himself off, smoothing out the dents its rivets left in his skin, and took a look. A swirling vortex brighter than the surrounding ectoplasm filled its patchwork steel frame. Unlike the other doors, it remained fixed in place rather than floating up and down gently in a sea of green; it was anchored to something, to another dimension.

Bingo.

He stood on the edge of the portal, plugged his nose, and dove into the pool of light.

The portal spat him out in a large room made of the same patchwork metal as the doorway. Though the scent of death was strong here, in the glowing green of the machinery and in the air, it was mixed through with the unmistakable vitality of the living.

Perfect. Now he just needed to… find a way to get his powers back again…

He slumped forward and groaned.

Living people with The Sight were one in a million, and of those, the ones that were dumb teenagers were even fewer. There was no way Lydia was going to help him out again after the whole fiasco with their wedding either. He needed a new plan, a new pawn… well, there was no time like the present to start looking.

He floated up, poking his head through the ceiling into a modest kitchen. There was a table for four in the middle of the room, but only one chair was occupied. A pair of faded blue jeans and beat up red sneakers bounced impatiently and he could hear the scratch of pencil on paper. Sounded like homework. Bo-ring!

Like a shark fin cutting through the waves, the top half of his head glided across the floor to the fridge. Maybe they had beer.

A small pile of brown crumbs just under the door caught his attention. He sniffed at them, chocolatey. He floated a little higher so that his mouth breached the tile and licked up the remains of someone else’s fridge raid.

“Mmm, fudge.”

The kid at the table startled and looked over in his direction. He could almost believe they were making eye contact right now.

It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Who the heck are you?”

Looks like it could. He cracked a rotten grin and rose fully out of the floor.

“I’m the Ghost with the Most, pleasure to meet ya, kid.”

He held out a hand to shake, a centipede skittered down his arm and around his dirt-crusted knuckles before heading back into his sleeve. The boy just stared at the proffered digit in disgust.

“The most what? Grease stains on your shirt?”

“That and so much more! You name it, I’ve got it. Charm, good looks, STDs—”

“Modesty.” The boy deadpanned.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I wear pants at least…” he began counting the fingers on one hand, “thirty percent of the time!”

“That’s not what I— You know what? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t soup you right now.” The boy snatched a thermos off the table and waved it threateningly.

Jeez, tough crowd.

He wasn’t sure what kind of soup was in there, but something told him he didn’t want to find out.

“Beeecauuuuse…” His eyes darted around for something he could use to turn the situation to his favor. Math worksheet? No. Half eaten sandwich? Maybe later. NASA t-shirt? Perfect. “I’m a star, kid.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of star?” The boy narrowed his eyes skeptically.

“Red supergiant, Orion constellation… I’m sure you’ve heard of me…”

He crossed his fingers behind his back. Please work, please work.

“Betelgeuse?”

“Got it in one, kid.” He swallowed his relief and winked. “You’re even quicker on the uptake than Lydia!”

“Who?”

“Uhh, no one! Hey, what’s that?”

Betelgeuse darted over to a group of photos on a shelf and picked one up.

“Who’s the chick in the tight blue suit?” He whistled, letting the back of the frame fall open and the picture to unfold. “Really doesn’t leave much to the imagination does it?”

“Um, ew! That’s my mom!” The kid snatched the photo out of his hands and inspected the back of it. “How did you even do that?”

“I’d let her be my mommy any time.”

“…I will literally do anything for you to never talk about my mom ever again.”

“Anything?”

“Like, within reason. I’m not gonna, you know, kill anybody or anything.”

“Would you… be willing to… maybe… say my name three times in a row?” He bit his lip in anticipation.

The kid considered him suspiciously. “Is this like a kink thing?”

“What? No! Pshhh! No! Well maybe sometimes… Absolutely not, no. Cross my heart! See!” He drew an X on the right side of his chest.

“Yeah, no. Still don’t trust you.”

“C’mon kid!” He skidded to his knees in front of the boy. “Please, please, please! I’ll owe you one! I’m good for it! Promise!”

He clutched at the NASA shirt desperately. He couldn’t let this kid slip through his fingers, it might be another hundred years before he found another living person who could see him. He’d tasted the blood of freedom and he wanted more.

The boy grimaced and tried to pull away, Betelgeuse scrabbled after him. “I’ll get out of your hair, promise! Just three little words! Just three!”

“Okay, jeez, fine. If it’ll get you leave,” the boy groaned.

“YES! I mean!” He cleared his throat, “Yes.”

“Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse. Now get out of my house.”

Power surged then fizzled within him.

“Wow. That was anticlimactic.” He deflated. “Ah well, a deal’s a deal! See ya kid!”

He flew up through the ceiling with a sloppy salute.

What a chump! That was almost too easy.

-later-

That was definitely too easy.

Betelgeuse scowled as yet another hand reached through his head to grab a jug of milk.

His powers had been on the fritz ever since he got them back. One minute he was turning the floor into a writhing mass of roaches, the next, poof, they were gone! The unsuspecting sap he’d been about to scar for life left… unscarred.

He could tap someone on the shoulder, but when they turned around, they just looked straight through his carefully crafted horror show of a face; he’d hidden in dumpsters to jumpscare people taking out their trash, but they didn’t even see him; and his fruit fly cream pies went right through their targets.

Figures, it was just his luck that the one fucking human in this whole damn city who could see him was fucking defective.

Betelgeuse opened the glass door and stepped out of the grocery store refrigerator, he needed to find that kid.

#dannymay2023 #day 24 nasa #danny phantom #danny fenton #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #space nerd danny #loose interpretation of the prompt #crack #crack fic #swearing #feel free to peer pressure me to continue this one after dannymay

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rosanna-writer · 1 year ago

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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (16/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.3k

They bang. Finally.

Read on AO3 or you can find the sixteenth chapter below the readmore.

Rhys's wings were redder than I'd originally thought. I hadn't noticed it until one morning a few days later, when sunlight streaming in from the window illuminated the membranes from the back, making them appear almost translucent. As I sipped my morning tea, my eyes kept drifting to the intricate network of veins, the outline of the delicate bones, and the gleaming, razor-sharp talons.

Cauldron, they were beautiful.

I hadn't had much time to admire them until then. The past few days had been full of training in the mornings and then reading lessons while Rhys caught up on the state of the Night Court and Prythian. For now, it was all we could handle. There was still so much we were both putting off, but neither one of us had slept through the night since our return.

But that morning, Cassian had insisted on a rest day, so I let myself stare over my mug of tea because we had the time for once. I wasn't quite ready to face a blank canvas just yet—and when I did, there were other things I needed to get out of my system first—but I'd paint this view one day.

Despite all the shameless flirting, I was still fairly certain Rhys didn't want to be ogled over breakfast, so I said, "How do you get a shirt over your wings?" I hadn't noticed telltale buttons on the back of the tunic he was wearing.

His eyes sparked as he cocked his head at me, his curiosity at my sudden question obvious. My cheeks heated. "I generally use magic to seal it shut," he said slowly.

"And how do you get them clean in the bath?"

"Sponges. Surely you're familiar with the concept?" Rhys said drily. I shot him an irritated look that just made him smirk. When he spoke again, I could have sworn his voice dropped a bit lower as he added, "So many questions this morning. Why?"

"I didn't have a chance to ask before." It wasn't really a lie—I hadn't shied away from asking the Inner Circle questions before I'd gone Under the Mountain, but once I'd realized exactly why Illyrian wings were so sensitive, I'd hesitated to ask much about them. Cassian and Azriel would have humored me, but there were some things that I didn't want to discuss with my mate's brothers.

"Come touch them if you're curious."

I stood up so quickly that I nearly knocked over my chair, then froze. "Are you sure?"

He certainly didn't look unsure, not with the way he was sitting with his legs spread, wings flared out wide behind him and one arm on the back of his chair. If anything, he looked arrogant. But it wasn't quite enough—I still wanted to hear him say it.

As I stepped around the table, I caught the slight movement of his throat bobbing. "Please touch my wings," he said.

I stopped just in front of him. To get my hands on his wings with him sitting down, I'd either need to put one hand on the back of the chair for balance as I leaned in…or I'd have to straddle his lap.

"You never had them out Under the Mountain."

His eyes didn't leave my face, even as I felt his fingers interlace with mine. "If something is precious to you, it's safest kept hidden."

Velaris. Our mating bond. And his wings, too. Away from prying eyes, there was security that came from being shrouded in darkness, and I'd felt that at the very core of the Night Court's magic. Stealth was key to hunting, and perhaps years of moving undetected through the woods had shaped me in the same way.

"No one else has ever…" I whispered, trailing off.

"I'd never let myself be vulnerable in that way. Not unless it's with you."

I didn't ask if it was because he loved me or because of the mating bond—I didn't care. Rhys trusted me, and that was the important part.

There was no point in hesitating or doing this by halves. I made myself comfortable on his lap, resting my thighs on either side of his hips. His hands settled on my waist.

I ran a finger down the membrane of his wing, careful to use the pad and not scrape it with my nail. It was smooth and surprisingly cool, almost like silk, but stretchier than I would have guessed. I kept dragging my finger down, moving it closer to where the wing met his back.

Rhys hissed and bucked his hips, jerking at the contact with a sensitive spot. I let out a squawk of surprise, and if he hadn't tightened his grip around my middle, he would have knocked me off his lap.

I started to ask if he was alright, but he just laughed and said, "I should have known you'd go straight for the most sensitive places."

Interesting. I skimmed my finger along his wing again, closer to the talon, where I guessed it wasn't quite as sensitive. If he'd let me, I'd map out every inch of his wings with my hands, learn everything until I knew them as intimately as I knew my own body.

Now that I was closer, I saw the scars. Or more accurately, I felt them—they were old and faint, but slightly stiff under the pressure from my finger. None of them were particularly large, but his wings were covered in them.

Rhys had the same healing magic as any other High Fae. Scars like this…they were the result of torture, intentional cruelty by someone with magic who knew what they were doing. And they'd already been there before he'd been trapped Under the Mountain.

"These are from the War, aren't they?" I said.

"Yes. They don't hurt as much as they used to."

I traced one with a finger, watching his face carefully for any sign of pain. He just shifted his hips under me. It gave me the confidence to splay my entire palm against his wing and slide it slowly down to that sensitive place from before. His answering groan heated my blood, and as I leaned down to kiss him, I ground against the rapidly-hardening length of him.

Rhys was still gripping my waist, as if now of all times he'd decided to be something of a gentleman, which was ridiculous when I was already straddling his lap. But maybe…I'd rushed him. It was still so soon after everything we'd just gone through.

I tipped my head back to look at him. "Do you want this?"

"Like I've never wanted anything else," he said, voice so rough it was nearly unrecognizable.

"Then move your hands down."

He slid both hands to my ass and squeezed, pressing me against him. I let my satisfaction at finding him harder than before cross the bond. As I leaned in again, I felt his growl reverberate in my chest just as strongly as I heard it.

I swept my hands across his wings in several directions, and no matter where I touched, Rhys couldn't keep still. Each caress made him shudder against me, the friction against my clit sweet and intoxicating, even through layers of fabric. His fingers dipped under my shirt, and I pulled my hands off his wings to shuck it off.

His face was between by breasts before my shirt hit the floor.

Rhys's tongue traced a line towards a nipple. I arched into him, and for a moment, I couldn't remember why his mouth had ever been anywhere but that very spot or how the endless well of need on both sides of the bond hadn't swallowed us both whole.

A plea floated into my head, through the bond so he didn't have to move his lips from my skin. If you never take your hands off me again, it will be too soon.

I skimmed my fingers down his wing, and territorial instinct had me wishing for paint or something to leave behind a mark on every bit of skin that I touched, to warn everyone else away from what was rightfully mine.

I hadn't meant for that thought to cross the bond, but it tore a keening, desperate noise from Rhys as his hips ground against mine again. I'm yours. Leave all the marks on me you wish.

"You're wearing too many clothes for that," I whispered.

Before I could scramble for buttons, I was on my back and on the floor, clothes gone and Rhys naked above me, cradling the back of my head in one broad hand. I thought we might have winnowed, but the world hadn't disappeared into smoke and shadow—no, he'd just pounced with that inhuman speed of his.

I could see the question in his face, the hesitation that this might have been too much and too fast for me, even with his eyes the darkest shade of violet I'd ever seen them. Despite how badly I could feel that he wanted to keep going, Rhys was giving me an opportunity to stop.

Not that I wanted to. Naked and under him was exactly where I wanted to be.

I pushed up onto an elbow and kissed him softly, cupping his face with my other hand. He leaned into the touch, then turned his head to kiss my palm. A shiver went through me at the memory of pomegranate seeds the last time his mouth had been there.

Rhys started to move down my body, and when I realized where exactly he was going, I locked my legs around his waist, keeping him in place. "Not now," I murmured. "Another time, but I want you inside me. Please."

His face darkened, and for a moment I thought I might have said something wrong—perhaps I'd pushed too hard or he merely did just want to bury his face between my thighs for now. He just said, "You don't beg. Not for anything, from anyone."

The words sounded like a vow. But before I could respond, his face broke into that cocky smile I'd come to love. With a teasing nudge at my entrance, he added, "But especially not for this—I'd never deny you."

True to his word, Rhys slid into me as I said, "I'm yours, too."

I let him set the pace as I kissed and nipped as his neck. Every mark I left drew another soft noise from him or a deeper thrust, and I wanted him covered in them.

He braced one hand against the tile floor to hold himself up, and the other seemed to be everywhere, squeezing my breasts, skimming down my stomach, circling my clit. The world narrowed to just the places our bodies touched and the golden thread connecting us. Before long, I was shattering around him as he spilled into me.

I'd hardly caught my breath when he winnowed us to his bed. And perhaps we should have ended up there sooner, instead of on the kitchen floor, but I was feeling too contented and comfortable to care. I lay back against the pillows as Rhys shifted, sprawling half on top of me with our legs tangling together. One wing draped over us both like a blanket, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

We were quiet for a long moment. His arm banded around my chest tightly, holding me to him as if he were afraid I'd disappear. With a stab of guilt, I wondered if he thought I might run off again. The bond was also quiet, but I suspected there might have been a reason he wasn't looking at me.

It was strange, I realized as I traced the swirl of a tattoo on his upper arm, to want to linger like this after sex. Everything before this had been in a barn or a cave—not somewhere I could just be held afterward. The lack of urgency driving me back to the woods to hunt or Rhys back Under the Mountain…I still couldn't bring myself to trust that it was real.

I double-checked that my shields were up; I didn't want that thought to interrupt any peace that Rhys had found.

"After the first decade Under the Mountain, I thought I'd never want another person to touch me again," he said eventually, so softly that I almost didn't hear it. The words were muffled against my skin, his breath warm. "I'd thought she'd stolen the ability to want like that, along with everything else. Calanmai was different, something that could only happen once. But then, after you told me you were trapping a Suriel, you said next time like it was inevitable, and I…started to believe it could happen. I wanted it to happen. I didn't know you well enough to love you yet. That's when I knew the mating bond had changed everything."

If I hadn't felt the way the bond in my chest had rearranged my the world for me, I wouldn't have understood. Love might not have been enough to fix what Amarantha had destroyed, but there was nothing more powerful than a mating bond. The cord didn't just tie us together—it held our shattered pieces in place to heal, like a cast around a broken bone. Nothing else could have done that.

"I love you," I said, because it still mattered. His hair was soft against my cheek as he turned his head to press a kiss to my collarbone. "And there's always going to be a next time, even if I have to tear the world apart to make it happen."

At that, Rhys finally looked at me; he smiled, eyes bright and without any sign of tears. "If it were anyone else, I would have thought those were just empty words," he said.

I shrugged. "I've been told I'm stubborn."

"'Perseverant' is a better word," he said, then leaned over to kiss me. "Or 'tenacious.'" He kissed me again. "Or 'undeterred.'" Another kiss. "And I love you for it."

"This sounds far too much like penmanship practice," I grumbled into his shoulder, though I suspected that ducking my head hadn't hid my smile.

"If you want more sentences about how handsome, delightful, and cunning I am, then I'm more than happy to oblige," he purred.

Cauldron boil and fry me—he knew the effect it had on me when he dropped his voice low like that. Heat pooled in my lower abdomen, and I didn't need the bond to sense the purely male smugness that oozed off of him.

With both of us naked atop his bed, perhaps it wasn't much of a surprise that we made sure next time happened a few minutes after that.

We would have stayed in bed all day if we'd been given the opportunity, but even a rest day wasn't completely free of obligations. Rhys had scheduled an appointment with a healer to discuss a regimen of exercises to regain strength in his wings and the utility of a sleeping draught, and that was too important to miss. I'd offered to go with, but there was no need.

For the first time in a while, I was alone. I didn't particularly want to be, and with the bond still on my mind from earlier, I realized I'd never asked Amren if her research on mating bonds had turned up anything promising. And if I was being honest with myself, I was also burning with curiosity about the lingering tension between Rhys and his Inner Circle. I dressed and headed for Amren's apartment.

The walk was short, but it was still enough to second-guess myself by the time I arrived. Amren and the others had their hands full, and she might not be home, let alone willing to entertain my questions. I took a breath and raised my hand to knock anyway.

Only for Amren to pull the door open before I made a sound.

"What brings you here, Feyre?" she said, slightly accusatory. By now, though, I knew that was as welcoming as she ever got.

"I came to speak to you," I said.

I didn't miss the way her nostrils flared and the grimace as she stepped aside to let me in. She must have scented what Rhys and I had been up to; I'd nearly forgotten that the fae could. I'd have to remember to bathe next time.

"Well?" she said, once I was inside.

"I wanted to thank you. For not trying to talk me out of going Under the Mountain."

It still took an effort not to squirm as she leveled her swirling silver eyes at me, even though I'd expected it. Coming here alone to say that, with the scent of Rhys and sex still lingering on me…she'd draw conclusions from it and probably share them with the Inner Circle. I'd thought about that and accepted it.

Jeweled bracelets on her wrists clinked together as Amren flicked a hand in a gesture that indicated it had been nothing. "Sending you was the only sound strategy we had," she said.

"What makes you say that?"

"There were no mated pairs with a fully accepted bond and one or both parties Under the Mountain. If there were, Amarantha would have been defeated well before you were even born."

I considered that. Mating bonds were rare, so perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise that Rhys and I were the only ones. And everyone trapped Under the Mountain had something or someone they loved—and after fifty years, that clearly hadn't been enough to save them.

It meant something. It didn't feel like a coincidence that Rhys and I were the only such pair, that I was human, that the Night Court's magic wanted something with me, that a hunter made of stars pointed to Velaris and I'd brought the High Lord of the Night Court back home.

I didn't understand everything, but I was supposed to be here in the Night Court.

Amren must have been able to tell I had more questions. She jerked her head towards the sitting area, then took a seat across from me. "Did you find anything on mating bonds between humans and faeries while I was gone?" I said. With Amren, it seemed best to get straight to the point.

"There might not be much to find. The most plausible theory is that the lifespans of a human and a faerie are too different for a mating bond to exist between them. Your being Made immortal supports that assertion," Amren said.

With everything that had happened lately, I'd nearly forgotten I was immortal. The lingering echo of magic still hadn't dimmed, but at some point, I'd grown used to it, like a background hum I could tune out. I'd have to face it eventually. One day, I wouldn't be able to ignore the fact that I'd stopped aging.

Before I could respond the sound of Mor's voice cut across the room. I nearly jumped out of my chair—I hadn't heard her winnow in. "If you were going to skip our meeting, the least you could have done was send a note," she was saying.

Her eyes landed on me as she stepped around a bookcase, and her scowl turned to a smile. "Or you could have said that Feyre was here," she added brightly.

Mor dropped into the seat between us and hugged me hello. It was still foreign to me, to be greeted this way, for someone to be pleased to see me and not just the game I was carrying out of the woods. I suspected I'd been hugged more often in my few weeks in the Night Court than all the rest of my life combined.

And it was definitely still strange to feel Mor's sharp inhale as she got closer to me and know what it meant.

"I was going to come speak to you later, but now works, too," Mor said. Her hair was pinned up into a bun, and her gown was a more subdued shade of red than what she typically favored—she must have been spending the morning attending to her duties as Rhys's Third. She'd been back to the Hewn City often lately.

"What about?" I said.

"How do you feel about a trip to the Day Court, emissary?"

"Now?"

Mor laughed and shook her head. "Gods, no. None of the courts are going to be up to hosting official visitors for a while yet, but if we're going to be first on the docket when the time comes, we need to start the conversation now."

Even with the glamour back in place, I hid my left hand instinctively at the memory of Helion approaching me Under the Mountain. "They're still our allies?" I said, though they must be if sending me there was under discussion at all.

"We have a shared border and need access to their libraries," Amren said.

"For what?" I asked. The library under the House of Wind was massive—it was difficult to imagine any information couldn't be found there.

"There are spells that don't require magic from the wielder," Amren said, watching me again as if she could see right through me. Not sizing me up, just interested in picking me apart and examining my component parts one by one. I tried not to shiver. "But that knowledge was destroyed during the War, by High Fae who were afraid it could fall into the hands of humans interested in using it against them. Day has the most extensive libraries in Prythian. If any scraps remain, they will be there."

I didn't need to ask why—I'd be safer with any magic at all at my disposal. And it would be best if we could manage it before my immortality became impossible to hide.

"It's a long shot," Mor said, "and it would have been, even before Amarantha burned most of Day's libraries. It's still worth a try."

When I'd learned a bit about the courts of Prythian before going Under the Mountain, there had been an offhand mention of a thousand libraries in Day. I sat in silence for a moment, just struggling to comprehend the scale of devastation.

It made the so-called blight on the Spring Court seem like nothing.

"Helion would share that information with us?" I said.

"The Day Court stands for widespread access to information, and their librarians keep information about who borrowed what confidential," Amren said. That seemed flimsy to me, and I started to ask about the possibility of spies when she grinned, showing her teeth. It didn't look friendly. "And I know how to make sure they stay quiet if it comes to that."

"With the shared border, there are plenty of reasons to send a Night delegation to Day that won't arouse any suspicion about what you are, Feyre. And sending just you, Amren, and me will help us get in front of any rumors that we're mistreating the Cursebreaker," Mor said.

It made perfect sense, but I still caught a slight hesitation. Perhaps because she thought I might not be ready or she anticipated an instinctive angry reaction to a plan that would separate me from my mate for a while. In truth, it was the potential of embarrassing myself as a poor reader that made me more nervous than anything. The Day Court could gawk at me if it kept the rest of Prythian off our backs.

If Feyre Cursebreaker was another role I'd have to play, then I'd do it.

"I'll go," I said. Mor and Amren shared a look as if they were communicating mind-to-mind—not daemati, just two people who knew each other well and had worked together for centuries. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably aware they'd likely been discussing how to handle me again. After a moment, I added, "Have the rumors gotten worse?"

"Yes, but nothing we can't handle," Mor said, and I was struck again by the plain honesty, even though she knew it wasn't the answer I'd hoped for. "If you get out into Velaris more, that will help. You're well known, so word will spread if people see you, even if they can't say exactly where in the Night Court. I've been meaning to take you to dinner anyway. We could even find some blood for Amren and call it a girls' night."

Amren scowled. Mor tossed her head back and laughed.

I did want to see more of the city, though. So many other things had taken priority, but Velaris was the closest thing I had to a home anymore. Most of what I knew was the information Rhys had deposited in my head, and I wanted to find out more for myself.

"Just tell me when, and I'll be there," I said, and Mor beamed.

There wasn't much else to discuss, and Amren's irritation at two guests in her apartment was becoming palpable. Mor offered to winnow me back to the townhouse, but I was feeling restless from having spent so little time on my feet that day.

"And Feyre?" Mor said as we both stood to go. "I know my cousin knows how to treat a lady. If he doesn't get it together and take you on a proper date already, I'll kick his ass."

Amren made a disgusted noise behind me as Mor winked and then winnowed away. I took that as my cue to leave, saying a quick goodbye before hurrying down the stairs.

I felt lighter on the walk back to the townhouse. At first, I wasn't sure why, perhaps it was nothing more than just sunlight on my face and sea-scented air. But it ran deeper than that.

At some point, it clicked—I had plans to look forward to, for the first time in ages. Even in Spring, when I'd thought I'd found a bit of peace and a chance to rest and paint as much as I wished, I hadn't had that.

Happiness, the real, lasting kind, had never felt more tangible.

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

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artieareyouokay · 9 months ago

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I think I might might have actually missed my life's calling

You know how Bearcreek is just the peak of entertainment? Today I was SO bored that I actually agreed to babysit a two year old kid from one of the architects from the firm. Cut to me spending an embarrassing amount of time reading a Little Red Riding Hood storybook to said kid. With voices. That's right I made up and kept up different distinctive voices for all characters in the story and my performance was immaculate. I actually think I might have missed my call as a voice actor. Just imagine Sponge Bob but with my voice? an entire loss not just for me but by the world in general.

#bearcreekstarter #artie abrams bearcreek #artie abrams starter

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steveharrington · 1 year ago

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i dont think sponge bob would be considered overstimulating?? cartoons for small kids nowadays are filled with weird unneeded sounds (like surprised gasps, angry grunting and such) and colors, every emotion is made way too clear as if children are too dumb and, moreover, shouldnt learn to read faces/voice tones of normal humans anyway. if you ever watch these cartoons they're annoying af and probably dont affect kids well, idk. sponge bob is fine in comparison i think🤷🏻

i definitely don’t think it’s overstimulating personally but i’ve seen a wave of videos from self proclaimed “crunchy moms” who Only want their kids to watch bluey if they even let them watch tv at all. their argument is that spongebob is too loud and hyperactive (yknow like a lot of children tend to be) and it’s def not new because growing up i had friends who weren’t allowed to watch spongebob and the reason was just straight up like “it’s annoying” which. sad! like yeah obviously if your kid is stressed out by certain shows, don’t turn it on for them. but just assuming that your child will be too fragile for a show that is literally written and catered for them, that millions of children over the course of like 2 decades have enjoyed, is very strange to me. there’s also something to be said for letting children form their own preferences. there were shows i DID find annoying as a kid and chose not to watch, and it was one of the first times i got to exercise choice and preference as a child. obv i’m preaching to the choir here but like my god your kid does not need to sit in silence all the time with their beige toys 😭

#answered #anon

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yuuxhan · 2 years ago

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Yuri Harukami

These are headcanons of my OC for my commissions or anyone who wants to know her!

(Also for me to remember… ehe😋)

Yuri is my main OC, I use her for everything and I shove her into different anime/situations for my own comfort.

I hold Yuri very close to my heart, I will defend her with everything I’ve got.. so please, if you have comments that are not nice, refrain from saying them please. Thank you.

(This is also why my name is Yuri lolol!)

This is her Pinterest board I made for her, it shows her style and how she looks. Some photos will vary depending on the situation/ story though. Feel free to view~

Here’s a short description of you don’t want to read everything!

History: Yuri is a blue eyed, pale skinned girl who’s in her highschool years. She has freckles from her chest, shoulders.. up to her cheeks and face. She gets them from Akito, her father who’s Australian. He married Ayame, who’s Japanese. Ayame has white fluffy hair while Akito’s is very curly and light brown. They had their first child in JP named Yuki, a girl who looks mostly like her father with her brown bob cut short hair. A year passed and Yuri was born. Yuri looked a lot like her mother, her white hair, blue eyes.. they’re both albino.

About: Yuri’s a very kind and selfless person, she’s adored by many for how sweet and gentle she is. She has a very soft and quiet voice, she almost sounds like she’s talking to a baby. She always carries around a small backpack, holding things like a small blanket or some water.. just in case she runs into trouble.

Likes: Yuri loves being with her friends.. or in anyone’s company. She never fails to put a smile on their faces, and in return they adore her presence. She’s okay with being alone too, she doesn’t mind getting some peace and quiet once in a while, it’s refreshing.

Dislikes: Growing up people used to bully her because of her looks and personality, they found her tooo sweet. It was weird, some found it creepy and obnoxious. So she hates it when people teases her like that, although she’s too kind to say it, she’d most likely be repeating it in her head.

Fav. Food: She likes anything sweet! Whether it’s candies or chocolates.. or doughnuts! But her favorite is cake. She could gulp down a sponge cake or a chocolate cake.. but not when it’s tooo sweet, that’s too much.

Dislike food: She doesn’t like things that are supposed to be warm, turned cold. For example, overnight oats.. warm oatmeal sounds amazing but when it’s frozen.. eugh. Or those cold soba noodles.. gross. Anything cold like that she hates.

Fav weather: Yuri’s favorite weather is when it snows. The beautiful white snowflake falling from the sky, watching it pile up.. it looks magical to her. Though she also likes when it rains, sitting down in a dim room with a good book, cuddled up in blankets… so peaceful.

Fave holiday: Along with the cold weather, her favorite holiday is Christmas! Giving gifts is something she loves to do. But not just that, the joy of Christmas. Being able to wake up with your family and exchange gifts. Sitting in the window and watching the snow. Hearing the giggles and laughter of children playing.. she loves it all.

Hobbies: If not hanging with her friends, you can find her at the beach.. or any park or local library. She loves reading.. her favorite is fantasy and romance novels. You can find her sitting in the park up on a tree just resding to herself, or laying on a picnic mat just relaxing.

Birthday: Her birthday is December 19th! She usually gets her gifts before or during Christmas morning.

~~~~~

Voice Claim: I haven’t actually done one of these before but I do believe her JP and ENG voice would be Rei from Evangelion (the 2021 version? I havent watched that anime.. but I’ve heard her voice before.)

If you have any other questions or comments about her, please comment!

Drawings!!

Unfortunately I can’t draw for shit so.. I do commissions every once in a while. So here are some commissions I’ve done with them! All of the artists are listed below the photo!

(The credit belong to them! Nothing is mine except for the character!!)

Akito (Yuri’s father in his younger years. I did him in a Sk8 AU bc… why not?👀)

Artist is: @thym3y

This is Yuri!

Artist is: @ Kyrin_San on instagram

(I can’t find who the artist for this one is for the LIFE of me omg.. I searched everywhere but 🫠…. If I do find them I’ll tag them. I completely forgot omg, I’m so sorry)

A friend of mine drew Yuki for me! (Yuri’s older sister!)

Artist is: @ibtrashwhore

#oc #my ocs #own character #oc artwork #oc art #ocs #original character

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synthcrow · 3 months ago

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as the gf in question I feel like demonstrating the voice I read this in

your own. personal. spongebob.

someone who can't breathe air.

someone who's square.

#cro.mp3

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sadboi-in-a-sweater · 6 months ago

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Sadboi's Incredibly Strange Multifandom Adventure - Chapter 2: The Call

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of seagulls squawking outside. The salty scent of the ocean was a stark contrast to the fresh pine scent of the forest she was used to. But it wasn't unpleasant; it was a new smell, a new beginning. She sat up and looked around, her eyes landing on a note scribbled on a piece of seaweed.

"Good morning, Sadboi! Me and Patrick are going jellyfishing. Join us when you're ready!" It read in Sponge Bob's bubbly handwriting.

With a smile, she grabbed her phone and sent a message to the French Narrator. "Having an adventure," she typed out. "Will keep you updated."

The world outside the rock was already bustling with activity. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a soft light over the coral structures of Bikini Bottom. As she stepped out, she saw Patrick and Sponge Bob in the distance, waving at her.

Her heart swelled with excitement and a hint of nervousness. This was it. She was going to live out the adventures she'd only ever seen on screen, and she was going to do it with friends by her side.

The French Narrator's voice was a comforting whisper in her mind. "Remember, Sadboi, this is your adventure. Embrace it." She nodded to herself and swam over to her new friends.

"Morning, guys," she said, her voice still a bit groggy.

"Morning, cubehead!" Patrick called back, his eyes barely open.

"You're up early," Sponge Bob said with a yawn. "Ready for some jellyfishing?"

Sadboi had never been jellyfishing before, but she was eager to learn. She followed them to the Jellyfish Fields, where the air was filled with the gentle hum of jellyfish fluttering about. The sight was mesmerizing, their glowing tentacles swaying in the water like ethereal dancers.

As they began the sport, she realized that jellyfishing was a lot harder than it looked. The jellyfish kept slipping from her grasp, and she was afraid she'd hurt them with her clumsy attempts. But Patrick and Sponge Bob were patient teachers, showing her the ropes with their nets and encouraging her every time she missed.

After a few hours, she finally caught one. "Got it!" she exclaimed, holding up the wriggling jellyfish with a mix of pride and concern. "But…are we really going to eat these?"

Patrick looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Of course not! We're just collecting them for their jelly. It's the best part of jellyfishing!"

Sadboi felt a wave of relief wash over her. Her love for animals meant she couldn't stomach the thought of harming these beautiful creatures.

As they swam back to Patrick's rock, their nets filled with jelly, they talked about their favorite episodes of "Kamen Rider Build" and the latest adventures of their favorite heroes. It was a simple conversation, but to Sadboi, it was the most meaningful she'd had in a long time.

When they reached the rock, they found a surprise waiting for them. The French Narrator had set up a picnic with a variety of underwater treats: kelp sandwiches, sea cucumber sushi, and even a jellyfish jelly donut for each of them. "Bon appÃ©tit, mes amis!" He said, his voice a soothing melody in the water.

They sat around the makeshift picnic table, sharing their jellyfishing tales and munching on the delicious food. The camaraderie was palpable, and for a moment, Sadboi forgot about her past, about the fear and the running.

But as they laughed and joked, she felt a strange vibration in her vibesense. It was faint, but it grew stronger as she focused on it. It was coming from her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket to see a message from a familiar character from a game she'd spent countless hours playing: Hornet from Hollow Knight, the daughter of The Pale King and Herra the Beast.

"Hello, Sadboi," the message read. "I've heard your vibes resonating with the joy of this new world. I am in need of assistance. Can you feel the pain of the Kingdom of Hallownest?"

Sadboi's heart raced. Could it be true? Was she really receiving a message from one of her favorite characters? She looked around nervously, hoping her new friends hadn't noticed. But Patrick and Sponge Bob were too busy arguing over who had the better jellyfish jelly donut topping to pay attention.

"What's wrong, cubehead?" Patrick asked, noticing her sudden tension.

Sadboi took a deep breath, unsure of how to explain. "I-I just got a message from…someone. They need help." She said, trying to keep her voice steady.

The French Narrator, ever the observant one, swam closer. "Ah, it seems your adventures are about to take you to another dimension. Are you ready to embrace your destiny?"

With a nod, she turned to Patrick and Sponge Bob. "I have to go. Something important has come up."

Their expressions fell. "But what about jellyfishing?" Patrick asked, his voice filled with disappointment.

"And our sleepover?" Sponge Bob chimed in, his eyes wide with concern.

Sadboi felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, guys. I promise I'll come back. But right now, I have to help someone."

Without another word, she turned to her phone and opened a portal to the world of Hallownest. The French Narrator gave her a salute. "Bon voyage, Sadboi. Remember, the adventure continues where you least expect it."

Stepping through the swirling mass of pixels and code, she found herself in the eerie, abandoned City of Tears. The ruins of a once-great kingdom lay before her, the air thick with the scent of decay and water, she coughed a little bit as dust entered her lungs. She knew she had to find Hornet, but first, she had to navigate this unfamiliar place. She knew what dangers lay here, so she kept her vibesense and mechanism assimilation on high alert. She focused on keeping her heartbeat from racing as she navigated the twisting underground city.

As she ventured deeper, she heard a faint melody, echoing through the caverns. It grew louder, a haunting tune that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the place. The vibration grew stronger in her chest, and she knew she was getting closer. Turning a corner, she saw a figure dressed in pale red, a needle-thin blade in hand. It was Hornet. The insectoid warrior looked up, her eyes locking onto Sadboi.

"You heard my call," Hornet spoke, her voice a mix of relief and urgency. "Our world is in peril. The infection spreads, and the Heart of Hallownest grows weaker."

Sadboi nodded solemnly, clutching her Meta Knight plushie tightly. "What do you need me to do?"

Hornet explained the dire situation. The Radiance, a malevolent force, was slowly consuming the world of Hallownest. Only the Heart of Hallownest remained, a beacon of hope in the desolate kingdom, but it was weakening. "The Infection has taken over, and we need to purge it," she said gravely.

The heavy task felt familiar to her, but without The Knight -- or any other vessels, for that matter -- in sight, her mind began to race with anxiety. The French Narrator's words of encouragement played like a distant lullaby in her mind, guiding her through the murky waters of doubt. "I need to be brave," she murmured to herself, her eyes focused on the path ahead.

Together, they ventured through the haunting landscapes of Hallownest, passing by the remnants of what was once a bustling metropolis. The silence was broken only by the distant cries of the few remaining inhabitants and the rhythmic clanging of Hornet's nails on the cobblestone streets. The air grew colder, the colors more muted, as they approached the Infected King's domain.

The duo encountered several hostile creatures along the way, but Sadboi's vibesense allowed her to predict their movements and act swiftly. With the help of her Meta Knight plushie, she found an unusual strength within herself, dodging and weaving through their attacks. Her mind raced with thoughts of the battles she had seen in her favorite show, and she couldn't help but feel a strange kinship with the heroes she had watched so many times.

As they reached the entrance to the Queen's Gardens, Hornet paused. "Sadboi, this is where I must leave you. The path ahead is too treacherous for even me. But fear not, I have faith in you."

Sadboi felt a lump form in her throat as she watched Hornet fly off into the darkness. "I won't let you down," she whispered, more to herself than to her new friend. She took a deep breath and stepped into the eerie garden, the vines and thorns reaching out like ghostly fingers.

The journey through the gardens was a blur of danger and determination. Her heart raced as she avoided the grasping roots and venomous spores that threatened to end her quest. The vibes grew stronger, a symphony of pain and despair that grew louder with every step she took towards the heart of the infection.

When she finally reached the chamber of the Heart, she was greeted by an overwhelming presence. The Heart of Hallownest pulsed with a sickly light, surrounded by a thick miasma that made her stomach turn. A sense of dread filled her, but she pushed it aside, remembering her newfound friends and the joy they had brought her.

With a deep breath, she stepped forward and placed her hand on the Heart. The energy surged through her, and she felt a strange connection to the very essence of Hallownest. The vibes grew stronger, and she could feel the pain of the corrupted world coursing through her veins.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the vibrations within her, channeling her love for 'Kamen Rider Build' and the strength she'd found in her new friends. The plushie in her hand began to glow a brilliant blue, and she felt the power of Meta Knight surge through her.

"Henshin!" she exclaimed, and the room was suddenly bathed in light. Her sweatshirt transformed into an elegant armor, and a gleaming sword appeared in her hand. She looked down at herself, astonished. The power of her favorite show had become a reality.

With newfound resolve, she faced the Infected King, who had emerged from the shadows, his form twisted and monstrous. He roared a challenge, and the battle began. The Heart pulsed with every clash of their weapons, and the very air grew thick with tension.

Sadboi's mind raced with tactics and strategies she'd seen in her favorite episodes. She dodged and parried, her movements fluid and precise. The Infected King was powerful, but she could feel the fear in his vibes. Each strike brought her closer to freeing the Heart from his corruption.

The fight was fierce, a dance of light and shadow. The Heart grew brighter with every hit she landed, and she knew she was getting closer to victory. But she also knew that this wasn't just about defeating a foe; it was about saving a world.

Her eyes flashed with determination, and she leaped into the air, delivering a powerful slash that cleaved the Infected King in two. The chamber was bathed in a blinding light, and when she landed, she found herself back in the serene waters of Bikini Bottom.

Her armor faded away, leaving her in her usual sweater and sweatpants. She looked around, bewildered. "What…just happened?" she murmured. She looked around for any sign of Hornet.

The French Narrator's voice was a soothing wave in her mind. "You've done it, Sadboi. You've purged the infection from Hallownest."

Her heart racing, she turned to find him hovering nearby. "But…how?"

"You possess a unique gift, my dear. The power of your imagination, combined with your vibesense, allowed you to tap into the fabric of reality and bring forth a hero from within. You are the Kamen Rider of your own story." He explained, a hint of a smile in his tone.

Sadboi looked down at her plushie, now returned to its normal state, and felt a strange warmth. "Does this mean I can…do it again?"

"Only when the need arises, and when your heart is pure." The Narrator assured her. "But for now, you've restored balance to one world. Let us return to your friends, and perhaps we shall find more adventures awaiting you in the multidimensional tapestry of existence."

She couldn't help but look around a bit, remembering Hornet.

The French Narrator's words lingered in her mind. "But what about Hornet?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Ah, the inhabitants of the worlds you visit are bound to their own realities, my dear. They continue their lives as they always have, unchanged by your heroics. But fear not, for you have earned a place in their hearts, and perhaps in the annals of their legends." He offered a comforting smile, his diving helmet reflecting the warm glow of the Bikini Bottom sun.

With a nod, Sadboi allowed the Narrator to lead her back to Sponge Bob's pineapple house. Upon their return, Patrick and Sponge Bob looked up from their jellyfish jelly donuts, their eyes wide with surprise. "You're back!" Sponge Bob exclaimed. "How was…uh…what you had to do?"

Sadboi couldn't help but chuckle. "It was…unexpected. But I'm okay." She didn't dare to mention her interdimensional battle, not wanting to burden them with the weight of her newfound abilities.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and friendship. They played games and shared more stories about their favorite characters. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sadboi felt like she truly belonged.

That night, as she lay in Sponge Bob's spare bed, surrounded by plushies of Bikini Bottom residents, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. The world of Hallownest was safe for now, but what other worlds needed her help? What other battles would she be drawn into?

The vibes from her phone grew stronger again, a pulsing reminder of the endless adventures that lay ahead. With a sigh, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. "Tomorrow," she thought. "I'll face tomorrow."

#multifandom #spongebob #hollow knight #fanfic? kinda but this is for fun #contains: self-insert #sisma

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charmed-asylum · 4 months ago

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The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last.

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself?

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you.

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?"

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage.

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--"

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder.

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water.

"No, you don't--"

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one."

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal."

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway."

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say.

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you."

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter.

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest."

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left.

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window.

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment.

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene.

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look.

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says.

"And tea?" You add.

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you."

"Yeah, I... I know."

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.

"Thank you," you smile as best you can.

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter.

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down.

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses.

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit.

"You-" he begins.

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time.

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation.

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?"

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help."

"Okay, but why?"

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to."

"You want to?"

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me."

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other."

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?"

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend."

"Was," he interjects.

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes."

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says.

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much."

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders.

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you?

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.”

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer.

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.”

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.”

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