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musaslullaby · 5 months ago

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You're perfect

Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, George Russell, Max Verstappen and Carlos Sainz x fem reader

Summary: The drivers reassure you because you feel insecure about your body.

Warning: nothing only fluff.

Masterlist

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Charles Leclerc

We entered the house, the door closing with a dull thud that shattered the silence. Charles grabbed me immediately, his lips seeking mine with a hunger that took my breath away. The sexual tension between us was so intense you could cut it with a knife.

His hands, strong yet gentle, explored every inch of my body as our tongues tangled in a wild dance for control. A wave of shivers ran through me when he threw me onto the bed with that mischievous smile I loved so much. His dimples, which appeared every time he smiled, were my greatest weakness, a detail that made him irresistible.

Charles wasted no time. He pressed his body against mine on the soft lavender-scented mattress, and his lips captured mine in a crescendo of passion, where teeth and mouths clashed with sweet ferocity. His cold hands slid from my waist to my ribs, touching all the right spots, making me whimper. But when it came time to remove my shirt, a moment of hesitation froze me. The fear of how he would react to seeing those scars paralyzed me.

Charles noticed immediately. He stopped, pulling back from the kiss, and his gaze filled with concern.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart? Did I do something wrong?” he asked in a trembling voice, taking my face in his soft hands, as if I were the most precious thing he had ever touched.

“It’s not your fault… it’s just that…” I took a deep breath, searching for courage in his reassuring caresses. “I have scars, and I’m so ashamed of them…” My voice quivered with shame, a shame I had hidden for years.

Since I was a teenager, those scars had been my prison. I had never allowed anyone to see them, not even when friends went to the beach or the pool. I always kept my shirt on, suffocating my desire for fun under layers of fabric soaked in salty water.

Charles looked at me, and his smile softened in a way that broke my heart. Gently, he moved his hands to my waist.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, love,” he whispered, his voice a balm for my heart. “You’re beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His words mingled with our breath, and he sealed them with a kiss full of sweetness and affection.

“May I?” he asked softly, gently grasping the hem of my shirt. I hesitated for a moment, then, with a timid nod, I agreed. My heart was pounding, but the warmth of his words had reassured me. He would never leave me because of this.

Charles slowly lifted the shirt, letting his hands brush against my skin, and when he removed it, he tossed it decisively into a corner of the room. I felt vulnerable but also incredibly loved.

I’ll never forget how his eyes looked at me in that moment, full of love and devotion. He looked at me as if I were the only person in the world, as if I were the only one worthy of being seen, and in that moment, I realized there was nothing to be ashamed of. With him, I was perfect just the way I was.

Lando Norris

We had an important evening ahead of us, specifically a charity gala, and time was running out. We were supposed to leave any minute now, but I was still running late, even though I had started getting ready hours earlier. That damn eyeliner seemed determined to sabotage me, and every attempt to perfect it only made me lose more time.

"Baby, are you ready?" Lando’s voice echoed from the bedroom, where he was getting ready too. My heart started pounding faster, panic setting in. No, I wasn’t ready at all. I had only managed to do my eyes, and the idea of going out without fixing my nose felt impossible. It was a small obsession I hadn’t been able to shake since I was thirteen.

My hands moved frantically, trying to finish my makeup as quickly as possible. But as if the situation wasn’t already stressful enough, my elbow accidentally knocked over a glass vase, sending it crashing to the floor. Water spilled everywhere—a complete disaster. Alarmed by the noise, Lando immediately rushed over to find me in a state of panic, eyes wide.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned, looking at the shattered glass on the floor.

Tears started to fall as I felt the pain of having destroyed something precious, a gift from Lando’s mother. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through sobs, as the makeup smeared down my cheeks, drawing dark lines as it mixed with my tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lando whispered with infinite tenderness, moving closer to hold me tightly in his arms.

“It’s all my fault… now we’re going to be late too,” I said, shaken by sobs, overwhelmed by guilt for the broken vase and for being late. But before I could apologize further, Lando interrupted me with the sweetest kiss, silencing every word.

“I don’t care about the gala or the vase,” he murmured, his lips still close to mine, “I care about you. I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at your nose these past few days. You know you don’t need makeup to be beautiful. Even without it, you’re a sight to behold.”

His words hit me like a lightning bolt, soothing my anxiety. I felt that, to him, I was perfect just as I was, and in that moment, the gala, the makeup, and the broken vase seemed so insignificant compared to the love that bound us together.

George Russell

Summer vacations were the time I eagerly anticipated all year, an oasis of freedom and laughter. There was nothing better than spending time with George, lying on a sunbed with the sun kissing our skin and warm sand beneath our feet. It was the only time I could fully indulge in simple pleasures, like enjoying all the sweets I wanted, without the looming reminder of the gym and its restrictions.

I slipped into my favorite shorts, already savoring the thought of lounging under the sun with a good book or perhaps surprising George with a playful splash of cold sea water. But as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror for a quick check, something stopped me in my tracks. My eyes widened: my legs, usually slender, appeared swollen and different, almost unrecognizable. A wave of fear washed over me, a creeping anxiety that made me mentally replay every bite, every little indulgence from those two weeks of vacation. Yet, I couldn’t find an explanation.

With a resigned sigh, I pulled on a pair of jeans, despite the stifling heat. It felt like the only possible choice at that moment, a safe refuge from the insecurities that were tormenting me.

When I walked into the living room, George looked me over from head to toe, and the anxiety wrapped around me once again. I feared he had noticed the change too, and that he might be upset, or worse, disappointed.

"Why are you wearing jeans? Where are your favorite shorts?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

"They're in the wash, they got dirty," I replied quickly, trying to cover my embarrassment with a forced laugh.

"That’s impossible, I washed them yesterday," he responded, puzzled, leaving me without an excuse. I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes. I didn’t want to burden our day with my doubts, convinced it was just my paranoia.

"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?" he asked gently, stepping closer to touch my jaw, lifting my face so I had to look into his eyes.

"I just feel… strange. My legs, they’re so swollen," I whispered, barely audible, as guilt started to seep in. I felt like I had ruined his day with my insecurities.

"Love," he said with a tenderness that melted my heart, "you are just as beautiful as ever, if not more so. Your legs are perfect, and you are wonderful just the way you are, always." He hugged me gently, wrapping me in his warmth and reassurance. "Go put on those beautiful shorts."

A smile spread across my face, and with my heart full

of gratitude and love, I hurried to change. As I slipped back into my favorite shorts, I felt a wave of relief and acceptance wash over me. George’s words had dissolved my fears, replacing them with a renewed sense of confidence.

When I returned to the living room, George was waiting with a bright smile. He took my hand, and together we stepped out into the sunlit day, ready to enjoy our time together. The warmth of his reassurance lingered with me, reminding me that with him by my side, I could truly be myself. That day, I felt not just beautiful, but truly seen and loved for who I was.

Max Verstappen

We had organized a family dinner, the big moment when our parents would finally meet. Saying I was nervous was an understatement, and Max wasn’t much calmer. I had spent almost a year convincing him that this was the right step. And now, with the dinner just minutes away, part of me was second-guessing everything. But we were about to get married, and the idea of our parents remaining strangers until the wedding day seemed unthinkable.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves and gather my thoughts. I slipped into the blue dress we had chosen together, matching Max's elegant tuxedo. But as I looked in the mirror, a wave of discomfort washed over me: the fabric felt tight around my stomach, making me feel inadequate, almost wrong. Maybe it was just my imagination, but doubt crept into my mind. I wanted to change, but I had been the one insisting on coordinated outfits, and Max would be so upset if I decided to wear something else.

I sat down on the velvet armchair, my face in my hands, with no idea how to fix the situation. Time was running out, and I didn’t want to keep everyone waiting outside the restaurant. I felt stuck, overwhelmed by anxiety and the pressure to make everything perfect, but nothing tonight was going according to plan.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and the familiar scent of Max filled the room, a bittersweet aroma I knew so well. I looked up quickly, trying to appear calm, but it was too late—Max had already seen me. His expression was worried as he approached, sitting on the sofa next to my armchair. He was never the type to find the right words easily, and I could see it on his face; he didn’t know what to say, but his presence was all I needed.

He placed a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder and asked, his voice tense, "What happened? Did someone hurt you? Tell me who, and I'll kick their ass." His words weren’t sweet or gentle, but there was genuine concern in his eyes, a care that outweighed any awkwardness.

I couldn’t help but smile, even as tears threatened to fall. "You don’t need to send anyone to the hospital," I whispered, trying to gather my thoughts. "It’s just… this evening, the dress… I feel like everything is going wrong, and I don’t want to disappoint you."

Max looked at me intensely for a moment, then took my hands in his, holding them firmly. "I don’t care about the dress or the dinner. What matters is that we’re in this together, no matter what happens. You should never feel inadequate because, to me, you’re perfect just the way you are. And if that dress is really bothering you, change it—even though you look super sexy."

Those words melted the anxiety that gripped my heart. Max wasn’t one for grand speeches, but whenever he spoke sincerely, he always reached straight into my soul. With a deep breath, I stood up, feeling a new strength growing inside me.

"Thank you," I said with a smile, feeling lighter, more confident. "Now, let’s make this evening unforgettable."

And with him by my side, I knew it would be, no matter what else happened.

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Carlos Sainz

It wasn’t just another day in September. Carlos finally had some free time, and we decided to spend it together, exploring the city. As usual, I instinctively grabbed one of my oversized shirts. By now, my wardrobe was filled with them. The truth was, I felt more secure in those loose clothes; they hid my insecurities, especially about my chest.

Many people on social media would ask why I dressed in such oversized clothing. Some still couldn’t get over the fact that Carlos had left Rebecca for me, and I often came across insults or unpleasant comparisons between me and her, the perfect model. Even though I tried not to let it get to me, focusing on other things, I knew it deeply bothered Carlos.

"Honey, we absolutely have to try that Spanish restaurant, it would be nice to check it out!" I said with a smile, trying to lift the mood. But when I walked into the kitchen, I found him sitting with his phone in hand, so focused on his messages that he didn’t even notice I was there.

"Carlos… Carlos," I called out, raising my voice gradually, hoping to get his attention. Finally, he looked up, as if he had just woken up from a dream.

"What is it, mi vida?" he asked, putting down his phone and walking over to me with that familiar concerned expression I knew so well.

"Nothing, just that… well, I thought we could try that Spanish restaurant we talked about," I said, trying to hide the slight disappointment that he was so distracted.

Carlos looked at me for a moment, then his eyes fell on my oversized shirt. He stepped even closer, his gaze becoming more intense. "Mi amor, you know you’re safe with me," he said with a tenderness that took me by surprise.

I looked down, suddenly finding comfort in the floor, which seemed very interesting all of a sudden. "I know," I murmured, feeling a lump in my throat. "It’s just that… I never feel like I’m enough, especially when people keep comparing me to Rebecca."

Carlos took another step forward, cupping my face in his hands. "I don’t care what anyone else says," he said firmly. "You have no idea how incredibly beautiful you are in my eyes. And if anyone looks at you strangely for any reason…" He paused, his expression growing more serious, "I swear they won’t like what happens next."

His words touched something deep inside me, and a tear slid down my cheek. Carlos wiped it away with a gentle touch, then took my hand and led me to the mirror, positioning himself behind me. He wrapped his arms around me lovingly, his hands resting protectively over my chest.

"Look," he whispered, leaning down to give me a playful kiss on the neck, "look at how perfect you are. You don’t need to hide, not from me and not from the world."

His kiss sent a shiver through me, but not from the cold; it was a shiver of comfort, of security. I realized that with Carlos by my side, I didn’t need to hide behind oversized shirts or unfounded fears. And so, with him holding me close, I finally felt a new awareness growing within me: I was loved for who I was, exactly as I was.

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steddie-island · 8 months ago

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Ogling motherfucker

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles summer pop-up event Rating: M | WC: 999 | TW for mild injury, mentions of blood ao3

“Eddie. Dude.” Gareth kicked Eddie’s sneaker. Judging from his annoyance, it wasn’t the first time his name had been said. “Are you stoned?”

“God, I wish,” Eddie laughed. Even his strongest shit couldn’t win against a heatwave that knocked the power out in half the goddamn town, which was what had brought them to the pool in the first place, and why he was staring at Steve fucking Harrington instead of listening to his best friend. It was Steve's fault for walking around in the tightest red shorts Eddie had ever seen. As if the way they hugged his ass wasn't enough, they were so short that Eddie wondered if he would be able to see the underside of Steve's asscheeks if he bent over.

Eddie was having a hard time not picturing himself sliding a hand up one of the legs, over Steve's ass, down towards–

“Oh my god.”

“What!” Eddie jumped at Gareth’s tone. Gareth’s face flickered between horror, disgust, and delight, making it clear he wasn't sure how he felt, but Eddie was caught red-handed.

“You were ogling King Steve.” Gareth poked Eddie’s shoulder before Eddie could argue. “That's why we’re here!”

Eddie squawked indignantly. “Fuck you, no it isn't! I wanted to swim!”

“But you're not swimming, you're ogling.” Gareth shook his head. “You gross, horny, ogling motherfucker.”

Eddie wanted to hide behind his hair, but it was piled up on top of his head. “Fine. You wanna swim so bad? I'll take you swimming!” Eddie’s shoulder caught Gareth's stomach as he stood. He lifted the other boy onto his shoulder, and then he sprang into the pool.

Eddie’d been so obsessed with getting Gareth to shut the fuck up that he hadn’t watched where he was heading. They fell too fast, his head hit concrete, and the world went dark.

***

“Munson, you with me, man?”

Eddie coughed up water. Everything was too bright except for the dark outline of a person above him. He blinked to try to clear his vision.

Ah, fuck.

Steve’s brow was furrowed as he touched Eddie’s forehead, making Eddie hiss before slapping his hand away.

“What the fuck–”

“You got knocked out when you jumped in,” Steve said gently.

Eddie noticed the crowd that had gathered around them, and Gareth’s worried face. “Ah, shit, no.” He tried to sit up but the world rolled around him.

“You probably have a concussion. Don’t get up–”

“‘M not laying here,” Eddie said. He unsuccessfully tried to nudge Steve out of the way and got a strong arm around his waist instead.

“C’mon, stop being a stubborn asshole and let me help you.” Steve pulled Eddie’s arm over his shoulder and hefted him to his feet. He called for Heather to take over as he walked Eddie inside.

The air conditioner was working, thank fuck. Eddie melted into a plastic chair. “I’m fine, Harrington, don’t gotta bandage me up–”

“Shut up,” Steve said as he pulled his own chair up. Eddie tried not to think about how fucking close they were, how their legs slotted together, putting Steve’s knee close to his dick.

One of those big hands cupped Eddie’s neck before Steve dabbed at his forehead. “Fuck, that’s tender.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Steve gently wiped at the blood, and leaned impossibly closer to inspect how deep the gash on Eddie’s forehead was.

“Am I gonna live, doc?” Eddie tried not to sound nervous, like he wasn’t inhaling the scent of cologne, chlorine, and sunblock where his face practically touched Steve’s shoulder.

“I think so.” There was a crinkling sound, then Steve stuck something to his forehead. “That’ll keep it closed and stop the bleeding.” He sat Eddie back up but didn’t pull away.

The sunlight turned Steve’s eyes a golden amber color. Eddie could make out every freckle, every mole, every hair. His lips looked so fucking soft. Eddie wondered what lip balm he used.

It was like he couldn’t help it. Their eyes met, Eddie’s breath caught, and then he was surging forward to kiss those lips. It was clumsy and messy, their teeth bumped and Eddie was sure he didn’t even hit part of Steve’s mouth–

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry–” Eddie was ready to throw himself out of the chair and run away. “I don’t know why I did that–”

“Easy, Munson.” Steve didn’t sound pissed, which was not what Eddie had expected at all. He sounded amused.

“Why aren’t you kicking my ass?” Eddie sat back. “Not that I’m not grateful, but why aren’t you pounding me into the pavement? I just kissed you.”

“I know that.” Steve’s eyes were even prettier when he was smiling like he was in on a secret that Eddie wasn’t privy to. “I’m a shitty fighter. If I kicked the ass of every non-expert guy I’ve kissed, I don’t think I’d ever leave the hospital.”

There was an almost audible record-scratch. “I… you… guys…?” Eddie asked.

Steve laughed as he closed the first aid kit. “Yeah, man. I’m bi. People are hot, why limit myself?”

It was the concussion talking. King Steve wasn’t really sitting here, coming out to make him feel better for outing himself. Right?

“Where’d you learn to kiss, anyway?” Steve asked as he put the first aid kit away. Eddie watched his muscular shoulders, the dimples of his back, the way his shorts rode up– “Munson.”

“Huh?” Eddie pulled his eyes away from Steve’s ass.

“I said, where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Steve dropped back into his chair. “You could use some more lessons.”

“You offering, big boy?” Eddie’s head ached, he was sunburnt. That stopped mattering when Steve leaned close enough for their lips to almost touch.

“They do recommend you have someone with you for twenty-four hours after a concussion,” Steve murmured. “What kind of lifeguard would I be if I left you alone, after you’ve been watching me all day…”

Their lips met again before Eddie could defend himself.

#steddieholidaydrabbles #Steddie fic #I literally spent an hour and a half chopping this down to fit the word count 😂#Steddie fanfic #Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson #kintsugi_kid ao3

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moonselune · 7 months ago

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Hi!! I'm absolutely obsessed with how well you write everyone ESPECIALLY Wyll!!! We need more Wyll-loving in this fandom

Can you write Wyll with a patient, composed level headed, kind and fair gn Tav? I love my kind calm and collected characters who smile a lot but laugh rarely who laugh SO MUCH with their SO :] and Wyll deserves a grounding presence who loves dancing with him <33

Thank you!!! Have the most wonderful of days!

Aww thank you nonnie, I hope you have the most wonderful of days!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll x gn!reader | Laugh that lights my world

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll stood at the edge of the training field, watching as you gracefully performed your daily exercises. The sun cast a golden hue over everything, making your calm demeanor even more radiant. You were known among your companions for your patience and composure, always the one to mediate disputes with a kind word and a gentle smile -regardless of how annoyed your other campmates. While you smiled often, laughter was a rare sound, a precious gem that not many were privy to. But with Wyll, it was different.

You noticed Wyll approaching and your lips curved into a warm smile. "Good morning, my love," you greeted, your voice as serene as a still pond.

"Good morning, my love," he replied, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I couldn't help but watch you. Your movements are as captivating as ever."

You chuckled softly, a sound that made Wyll's heart swell. "Always the charmer," you teased lightly. "What brings you here?"

Wyll took your hand, his touch tender and filled with love. "I wanted to spend some time with you before the day gets too busy. How about a walk?"

You nodded, feeling the calmness of his presence wash over you. The two of you began walking through the camp, enjoying the quiet moments together. Then Wyll looked at you, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and mischief.

"You know, my dear, it's been a while since we danced," he said, his voice a playful challenge.You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Is that so? And whose fault is that?" you teased gently. It was true, it had been a while since the two of you had danced, but Wyll kept getting caught up in what seemed like a million side quests when you entered Baldur's gate.

He chuckled and extended his hand towards you. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

Taking his hand, you stood up, your movements graceful and fluid. Wyll pulled you close, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. As he began to hum a soft tune, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest. Dancing with Wyll always felt like the world faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

You moved together in perfect harmony, your steps light and effortless. Wyll's strong yet gentle guidance made it easy for you to follow his lead. As the music in his mind grew more lively, he spun you around, and you couldn't help but laugh—a bright, genuine sound that seemed to light up the sky. Wyll's heart swelled with joy at the sound of your laughter. It was a rare but cherished gift, one that he always sought to elicit.

"There it is," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That beautiful laugh of yours."

You blushed slightly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "You always manage to bring it out of me," you admitted, your voice tender.

"That's because your happiness means everything to me," Wyll replied, his tone earnest and filled with love.

As the dance continued, you felt lighter than you had in days. Wyll's presence was a balm to your soul, his warmth and affection wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. He twirled you once more, and you laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. When the dance finally came to an end, Wyll pulled you into a tight embrace, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice a tender caress.

"I love you too, Wyll," you replied, your eyes shining with emotion.

You stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the closeness. Wyll's arms around you felt like home, a place where you could truly be yourself without any reservations. You smiled often, but with Wyll, you laughed freely, letting go of all your worries and fears.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll honestly needs more love bless him, hope you enjoyed it - Seluney xox

#wyll bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate iii #wyll x reader #wyll #baldurs gate wyll #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #wyll x tav #wyll ravengard x tav #wyll ravengard x reader

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theprismyyy · 1 year ago

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Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup

Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader

Tw: Nothing really, just pure cuteness.

(English is not my first language)

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- This girl would be extremely impressed with the size of your dressing table and the amount of stuff you keep in it, from body products to facial products and perfumes of different types and aromas, but what catches her most attention is her impressive and very clean and organized makeup collection; they went from cheap and simple makeup, up to expensive and limited collections.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- She's scared if she dares to bump into your dressing table, she knows how much you care and care about your makeup and products, Gwen would hate to end up knocking it over and breaking/damaging it something.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- She loves watching you put on makeup and admires all the time and effort you put into it, she could spend hours watching you try a new makeup look.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- If you like artistic makeup she would simply be obsessed with it; likes to watch the makeup process and would probably laugh and take funny pictures of you with your face full painted.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- Overall she would love any type of makeup you like to do, it doesn't matter if it's her own style, one that's trending at the moment, something like Corpse Paint or even gyaru....she will simply continue to be your number one supporter.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to put on makeup —------- She's a total sucker when you have your lips coated in gloss, lipstick, lip oil or balm;

She would be obsessed with scented and flavored glosses, lip oils and balms, I think her favorite would be cherry and vanilla. She's the type who asks to try it and then when you hand her the product, she simply pulls you in and gives you a kiss on the lips.

"What it was? It's not my fault he seems to have a much better taste in his mouth" She would say with the most feigned innocent tone existing.

She loves kissing her lips painted with lipstick, especially if it's a dark color like red, wine, pink or brown. She doesn't care if she makes a mess on both of your faces, she will simply pull you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck gently to keep it in place and tilting your head to deepen things; a kiss will go away turning into two, three, four and many others until she finally slowly walks away just to admire the work of art that is her completely silly and distraught, her cheeks flushed and her lipstick smudged, this sight bringing butterflies (pyterodactlos) to her stomach.

She would do anything to convince you to do all the possible Tik Tok trends with her that involve kisses and lipstick together, not that she really needs much effort to convince you, you'd probably be up for anything this girl suggested. That being said, you would do all the trends, all of them, I think her favorite would be the one where you mark your entire face from your kissing partner…but the two of you would probably get carried away with it, which would result in Gwen COMPLETELY marked with lipstick, from head to toe 😭😭 it takes you so long to wipe off all the lipstick afterwards and she probably still her skin was a bit reddish (George had so many questions for this girl)

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves doing makeup —---------- If you like filming and photographing your makeup, she would love to help you with that.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- I would be the proudest girlfriend in the world if you actively work with makeup on your social networks, I would celebrate every achievement with you, be it partnership proposals, advertising or reaching a new follower target (Gwendolyn is your number one fan and nothing will change my mind)

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves putting on makeup —------- I don't see Gwen as being the type who would really put on makeup, the most this girl can do is put on a little concealer and blush, maybe some mascara to complement it but nothing more than that. However, she wouldn't object if you asked to do her makeup, it doesn't matter if it's just for fun, to test a new technique or new product, Gwen would be happy to be your model. He would spend minutes looking at himself in the mirror after that and when you ask if everything is ok, or if she didn't like the makeup, Gwen would just say it's because she's feeling so pretty (😭😭😭I love her so much)

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to do makeup —------- Gwen would freak out if you offered to do makeup for her and the other girls in the band for a performance, she's so happy.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to do makeup —------- Who would be happy to help you clean and organize your dressing table if you asked

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to do makeup —------- She especially likes her makeup with cute packaging, like lipsticks with teddy bear packaging or palettes with kitten designs.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to do makeup —------- I truly believe that this girl is a total lol profile on her social networks, appearing every now and then to post a photo of landscape or music, but she always, ALWAYS, makes a point of repost all your makeup in stories.

Gwen with a girlfriend who loves to do makeup —------- She gives you makeup from time to time, it may not be the best or most expensive brand, but she always asks the store saleswoman and makes sure it is a good product, Above anything, it's a gift from the heart and she makes sure to pack it and everything 😩❤️‍🩹

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x fem!reader #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spider verse #spider ghost #spider gwen #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #supremacy of gwen stacy bi #✩‧₊˚#theprismyyy

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year ago

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Whoopsie, Did I Turn You On?

minors dni - steve x gn!reader, public humiiation, dom + submissive roles, sub steve, sadist reader, masochist steve, sexual themes, clumsy steve, mean reader

lmao idk what this is - it's a snippet from my unfinished kinktober list, so here, have it in november instead lol. enjoy? this is so random istg and i wote it at an ungodly hour but we live laugh love. i figured someone out there will get a kick or two out of this. enjoy!! :))

You can’t help it. It’s not like it’s your fault anyway, it’s all Steve’s. He just looks so cute today, strutting around in that too small polo and those snug jeans of his. His hair sits impossibly perfect and you often find yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself such a pretty little plaything.

Not only does he look perfectly fuckable, having put on mascara again, and raspberry lip balm like he knows you like; he’s also a bit of a klutz today.

This morning he dropped all his coins, with you standing over his shoulder, when trying to give some money to a busker. He tripped on the curb when running across the street to show you the flower shaped tart he got at the market. He kept missing the straw when trying to take a sip of his iced tea because he was too busy looking at you. And just then he almost stepped off the curb and in front of a cyclist whilst walking down the street because he was telling you all about his night with Robin yesterday, and trying to keep your attention.

It’s fun making him stir. He always has your attention, you just like making him fight for it.

He’s so obsessed with you it’s crazy, so desperate to please, and maybe if you were a good person you’d assure him that you love him, and stroke his hair and kiss the tip of his nose.

But you’re not, not really. You’re mean, you like to play. And when Steve gets clumsy like this, fighting for your gaze to be on him and nothing else, you get horny.

He flushes bright red every time he messes up. Passersby think he’s just embarrassed that he tripped or dropped something, but you know it’s because it turns him on. He likes being humiliated by you, giving you all the power. He likes when you make him feel more embarrassed than he needs to be.

“Stevie!” You called, sitting down at a table under the pateo of a nice cafe. Steve had popped inside to place your orders whilst you nabbed a table. “Over here!” You waved at him.

He came rushing over with a bright smile, leaning down to kiss your cheek before walking around to his side of the table. Only, he tripped halfway there, when you stuck your foot out in his path.

He stumbled forward and gripped onto the table before falling flat on his ass, all the patrons of the cafe and people walking past on the street turned their heads to watch him embarrass himself.

He looked up at you, red from the tips of his ears all the way down past the collar of his adorably tight shirt, his eyes a little glassy.

You pouted down at him, mock sympathy, already noticing the growing bulge in his jeans, “Awh, poor baby… Did you trip?”

Steve swallowed and looked around, rubbing his elbow where he bumped it, “Yeah.”

“How did that happen?” You asked with a filthy smirk, “You’re such a klutz today, got all your wires crossed.”

He nodded his head, looking to the ground sheepish, his hands subtly moving to cover his erection from people still staring.

“Come on, up you hop.” You smiled, reaching your hand out to aid him. “You look silly down on the ground like that, Stevie. It’s almost like you enjoy being humiliated.”

You noticed Steve burn up red as he scrambled to his feet and sat himself down across from you. He looked so embarrassed, and so fucking turned on. You can’t wait to ruin him later.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, straightening his clothes out.

“Don’t apologise, pretty boy.” You smiled, leaning over the table to whisper, “You look so cute all ruffled up and confused like that. Almost as gone as when I suck your pretty cock.”

Steve choked on his sharp inhale of air and broke out into a coughing fit, right as the waiters brought out your coffees. You grinned at him, having a proud little laugh to yourself before thanking the waiter and watching them be on their way.

Steve didn’t like that you looked at them, or talked to them. He wants your attention again, and you’re not going to give it to him right away.

It’s only when he took a sip of his coffee and almost burnt his tongue on it, did you look at him again.

“Such a dumb little whore, hmm?” You muttered, shaking your head as you sipped your coffee, “Always so desperate for my attention.”

Steve gnawed at his lip and wiggled around in his seat, one hand down in his lap. You chuckled to yourself, watching him writhe. You’re sure he’s probably leaking from the pretty tip of his cock right now, staining his boxers and maybe even his jeans. You’d like to take him into your mouth right now and listen to him whimper and moan all pretty for you, tear him apart in the way he loves, only to be put back together and held by you after.

But that’s to come later, no matter how badly you want it now; making him writhe like this all day is just so rewarding.

After your coffees were finished and you and Steve had chatted for a while about the mundane things you often like to talk about with your boyfriend, you both made you way down the street again. He was desperate to hold your hand, leaning into you ear and practically begging for it.

You let him, after he tripped over a lose brick and bumped into a random person, managing to stay upright. It still embarrassed him though, and that person said some rather rude words in response.

He was smiling, humming happily as the pair of you walked along, hand in hand, when you decided to have a little bit of fun. Embarrass him one more time before letting him get what he so desperately wants, which is his weepy cock in your throat, and to touch you in whichever way you’ll let him.

“Stevie.” You muttered, tugging on his hand, “You look so cute today, let me get a photo of you? How about you go stand by that tree?”

“Okay.” Steve smiled and kissed your cheek again, he loves when you take his photo. You always make it your lock screen right after, every time you take a new one, even the filthy pictures.

He rushed over to the tree you had pointed too and you took out your phone to snap a few pictures as he posed. You managed to get a few good ones before the sprinkler behind him soaked him in water, just as you had planned.

Steve stood there as the water dripped down him, soaking and flattening his hair. People stopped to stare and laugh in the park, a person or two even snapped a photo.

You laughed, you’d caught the whole thing on video, and posted it to your close friends story, tagging Steve.

He rushed back over to you, drenched in water, cheeks red again.

“Steve, you’re so stupid.” You said, “What were you thinking, standing under that tree, right where the sprinkler is?”

“I- I don’t know.” He muttered, his hands in front of his crotch as he bounced from foot to foot, chewing at his lip again. His eyes kept darting around and everyone looking. “I’m stupid- I’m so stupid today.”

“Yes, you are.” You grinned, giving him a good once over and biting your lip. “My stupid boy, hmm? You must feel so humiliated.”

Steve nodded his head.

“We better get you home, before you do anything else dumb.” You said, turning to head back home.

Steve chased behind you, his shoes squelching with each step. “Can I please hold your hand?”

You laughed, pulling your hand away from him as you shook your head, “You’re soaked, baby. I’m not touching you, that’s your own fault for being so dumb, Stevie.”

“Right… I’m sorry.” He swallowed, looking at you with big eyes and a pout. The epitome of a kicked puppy expression.

“Guess we better get you all cleaned up in the shower at home.” You sighed, pretending like this was a chore you had no interest in doing. “And since you’re so dumb and clearly can’t do anything yourself, I better be there to help you.”

Steve swallowed, his eyes lighting up and pupils dilating as he tugged at the crotch of his pants, “You’ll shower with me?”

You looked at him and grinned, “Only if you be a good boy and stay on your knees for me, I don’t trust you not to slip and fall, dumb whore.”

Steve actually moaned, and you had to slap a hand over his mouth so no one else could hear walking by. Sure, you liked watching Steve humiliate himself in public, but those pretty, sinful sounds were reserved for you, and you only.

#jay writes #whoopsie did i turn you on?#steve harrington #steve x gn!reader #smut?#stranger things #dom reader #sub steve #kinktober #even tho it’s november #steve x reader #steve x masc!reader #steve x fem!reader #ficlet #steve ficlet #reader insert

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sky-fire-forever · 7 months ago

Note

Happy Friday and welcome to the DADWC! How about something for Fenris/Anders/Hawke. Maybe something pre-establishing a poly relationship with mutual pining if that inspires anything. :)

Thank you so much for the prompt!

My Hawke in this is Scorpius, who uses they/them pronouns.

Hawke is absolutely smitten with Anders. Anders is absolutely smitten with Hawke. Everyone can see that they're utterly obsessed with each other.

Fenris especially can see how in love the two mages are. He notices it on every mission they go on together. He notices whenever Anders has to carefully heal Hawke when they're injured. He notices all the fucking time.

And it hurts. It hurts that he'd almost had what Anders now holds dear, but he'd pushed Hawke away. He hadn't been ready and he missed his chance. Now it's too late.

He knows that it's his own fault, that he can only blame himself, but he wants so desperately to blame Anders. He wants to be angry with him, to hate him.

But he can't. He knows what Anders sees in Hawke and he can't blame him for taking what was freely given.

“I just don't see what they see in him,” Fenris says. “He's rather… intense.” He gestures vaguely with his bottle.

Isabela snorts. “And you aren't?”

He scowls at her before bringing the bottle back to his lips.

“I'm just saying.” Isabela holds her hands up even as she grins from ear to ear. “But if you want my honest opinion? I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“I'm not worried,” Fenris says with a scowl.

“Sure you're not. That's why you keep pining after Hawke like a lost puppy.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and takes another sip. “I am not pining.”

Isabela fixes him with a look. “If you were any more obvious, they'd be able to see your pining all the way in Orlais.”

Fenris glares at her and considers throwing his bottle at the wall with the others he's tossed there, but decides he'd rather drink it.

“On the bright side, Hawke isn't any more subtle.” Isabela takes a long sip from her own bottle and sets her feet on the table.

Fenris cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Isabela raises an eyebrow. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed.”

“Noticed what?” Fenris doesn't have the first clue what Isabela is talking about. It's entirely possible that she's just fucking with him.

“Hawke’s in love with you,” Isabela says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Fenris’ heart skips a beat. “They're not.” He hopes he sounds more blasé than he really feels.

“Yes, they are.”

“Why do you think that?”

Isabela rolls her eyes. “Because I'm not blind.” She leans forward. “They've been all over you since I first met you both.”

Fenris remembers how obvious Hawke used to be with their affections. How they'd flirt with Fenris at every opportunity and would find any excuse to throw an arm around him or to brush against him. It'd been nice to feel so sought after, so desired.

Things have been different ever since Fenris walked away. The night memories started creeping into his mind without permission, putting a stain on everything he and Hawke shared.

Hawke doesn't flirt so obviously anymore. Doesn't touch Fenris so often. They've drifted away from him and Fenris feels the absence like a cavity in his soul.

“Perhaps they used to be,” Fenris concedes. “But things are not the same as they used to be. Hawke has moved on.”

He thinks of how Hawke holds Anders’ hand whenever they can get away with it. How they stare at him like he hung each star in the night sky.

“What, because they're fucking Anders?” Isabela laughs. “That doesn't mean they're over you.”

Fenris can feel how his heart flutters with hope that isn't deserved. Is Anders just his replacement, a balm for the wound Fenris left behind?

But even as he has the thought, he knows that it isn't the case. Hawke loves Anders. Loves him more than anything and Fenris would be a horribly selfish man to try to get in the way of what they have.

“They love the mage,” Fenris says and he can hear the hint of bitterness that seeps into his voice without permission.

“Yes, they do,” Isabela agrees readily. “They love you too.”

Fenris stares at her in bewilderment.

“Oh, come on.” She leans back in her chair. “Hawke’s big enough for both of you.”

Fenris feels his cheeks warm. “Their size is hardly the issue,” he mutters. “The problem is–”

“The problem is that you turned them down. You ran away when they asked for more than you were ready for, so they're giving you the space you asked for.” She speaks like she's explaining a difficult concept to a small child. “Hawke is still crazy about you. And it's not like they're exclusive with Anders.”

That's news to Fenris. “They… aren't?”

“Of course not. Why do you think I find myself in their bed every other week?”

That sends Fenris’ head spinning. “I wasn't aware that the three of you were involved.”

“Oh, it's nothing like that.” Isabela waves her hand dismissively. “It's just sex.”

“Then I don't understand your point.” Sex is very different from a relationship. Fenris doesn't want just sex from Hawke and he definitely doesn't want sex he has to share with Anders.

Isabela rolls her eyes. “You really aren't getting it? They're not exclusive. If you talked to them, I'm sure Hawke would love to have you both.”

The idea of Hawke wanting Fenris and Anders both hadn't crossed Fenris’ mind until tonight. Until Isabela started putting these ideas into his head. How would that work? Could it work?

Fenris shakes his head. “You don't know Hawke’s feelings,” he says. “The opportunity for us has passed.”

Isabela sighs and looks at him with something like pity. “If you say so.”

That's the end of the conversation, but it lingers in Fenris’ mind long afterwards. The next day, he thinks he catches a glimpse of a longing look Hawke sends his way.

Or maybe he's imagining it all. There's no chance for Fenris and Hawke, not as long as Anders is in the picture. Fenris can accept that.

He has to accept that.

#dennis writes #oc: scorpius hawke #fenhanders #pre fenhanders #pre fenhawke #fenhawke #handers #dragon age #da2 #dragon age ii #fenris #hawke #anders #da drunk writing circle #dadwc

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fanby-fckry · 1 year ago

Text

Life Isn’t Fair (And Neither Is Truth or Dare With Slytherins)

Day 3 of Kinktober, 2023: Hate Sex

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Drinking/Drunk Sex

Word Count: 1,882

Fandom: Harry Potter

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson

Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Drinking Games, Truth or Dare, Rough Sex

Summary: The eighth year Hogwarts students play a drunken game of truth or dare. Harry and Draco are forced to leave the game after taking one dare further than anyone was prepared for.

Better on AO3

{ ✧ }

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room.”

“Oh come on!” Ron groans. “That’s two in one, a truth and a dare. ‘S not fair.”

Parkinson rolls her eyes. “You’re only saying that because he’s your friend. If he was one of us, you’d be just fine with it.” She holds her hand up as if she’s checking her nails, but Harry’s pretty sure it’s just for dramatic effect.

“Besides,” she says with a smirk, directed at Harry from over her nails. “It’s a common enough dare.”

Ron grumbles something about ‘bloody Slytherins’ and ‘always cheating’ while Harry takes another shot of firewhiskey. Gryffindor bravery be damned, he’s going to need some extra liquid courage for this one.

He marches up to Parkinson, looks her in the eye, and then glances over her shoulder. “Move,” he spits, and pushes past her. Past Parkinson, and right to Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, who has always been the prettiest person in any room he’s ever been in, because life isn’t fair and neither is truth or dare with Slytherins, apparently. Draco Malfoy, who Harry hates so much it borders on obsession. Draco Malfoy with his silver eyes and his pink lips and his hair that glitters – fucking glitters – in the sunlight. That Draco Malfoy.

And Harry kisses him. He kisses him because if he doesn’t do it right now, he’s going to run straight into the Forbidden Forest and probably regret it for the rest of his bloody life. Because as much as he hates Malfoy – and he really, really hates Malfoy – he also really, really wants to kiss him.

Malfoy’s lips are soft, because of-fucking-course they are. He probably has some kind of enchanted lip balm that costs a hundred galleons or something ridiculous like that. His hair is soft too, Harry always thought it looked soft – and wait, when did he get his hands in Malfoy’s hair? He doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because Malfoy tastes like vanilla and the firewhiskey they’ve all been drinking, and he smells like pine needles and now his hands are in Harry’s hair, and he’s kissing back, he’s fucking kissing Harry back.

And maybe it’s less of a kiss and more of a frantic mess of lips and tongues and teeth and years and years of hexes and hormones and that mixed-up kind of fire that only comes from kissing your rival, your nemesis, on his fucking lips and then having him kiss you back.

The other eighth years are whooping and hollering, and Harry only notices he’s got his hand under Malfoy’s shirt when one of them shouts, “Get a room!” and Malfoy breaks the kiss.

Malfoy quirks one eyebrow up at Harry, and that’s another dare in itself.

“My room,” Harry says, and it’s not a question. It doesn’t need to be. Malfoy would have no problem telling him to piss off if he didn’t want this as much as Harry does.

They leave the shared common room to a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls and Hermione shouting, “Be careful, Harry!” above it all. But Harry’s never really been good at ‘careful’, and right now, he doesn’t even want to try.

The trip from the common room to Harry’s dorm takes twice as long as it should, which isn’t Harry’s fault, really. It’s hard to concentrate on anything when he knows what Draco Malfoy’s lips taste like. If it’s any consolation, Malfoy seems to feel the same way. Neither of them manage to keep their hands to themselves as they walk, grabbing and groping, pushing and shoving and snogging each other the whole way.

Several portraits tell them to get a room, as well. Harry flips them off and tells them to mind their own fucking business, and Malfoy teases him for being ‘vulgar’ as if he hasn’t thrown around swears and slurs alike for about as long as Harry’s known him.

When they finally make it to Harry’s dorm room, Harry wastes no time in pushing Malfoy down onto his bed.

“Finally going to do something about all that sexual tension, Potter?” Malfoy says, and he looks far too fucking smug. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone – or maybe broken, they weren’t exactly gentle with each other on the way here – and he’s lounging back on Harry’s bed like he owns it.

“Shut up,” is all Harry cares to say before he climbs on top of Malfoy and spells the curtains closed. It’s quick and wandless; he’s had plenty of practice, having shared a room for the majority of his teenage life. He gets his hands on Malfoy’s chest, and suddenly it doesn’t matter whether or not the buttons at the top of Malfoy’s shirt are broken, because now the rest of them definitely are.

Malfoy’s chest is an expanse of soft, pale skin, almost as white as the cotton of his uniform. Long, thin scars cut across it, the tissue there raised and just barely darker. The first time Harry saw them, his stomach turned over with the guilt of knowing that he was the one who’d caused them. He’d tried to apologise, but Malfoy made some snarky comment about how, ‘There’s no need to grovel, Potter. Some people look good with scars. You just aren’t one of them.’

Harry doesn’t try to apologise this time. He doesn’t feel guilty or sick either. This time, he looks at Malfoy’s near-white skin and the scars that he made and decides he wants to taste them.

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Malfoy says, in a tone that he should not be able to manage while Harry’s mouthing across his collar bone.

Harry bites him in retaliation, pleased when it gets him a choked off moan and two hands clinging onto him – one tangled in his hair, the other on his back, a few fingernails digging into the nape of Harry’s neck. He’ll have half-moon bruises there by tomorrow morning, and probably scratches, too. Good. He sucks on the bite he’s made, rolling his teeth and giving Malfoy bruises to match.

“You look stupid all on your own,” Harry replies, and goes to bite another bruise farther down Malfoy’s chest.

“No, according to you, I look pretty.”

Harry bites harder for that, and Malfoy cries out, holding on tightly to Harry and bucking up against him. Harry can feel him, hard and hot even through his trousers, and he can barely think about anything else.

“I should punch you in your stupid, pretty face,” Harry says, as soon as he’s able to string a sentence together.

“I think you’d rather go back to snogging my stupid, pretty face,” Malfoy taunts.

“How about you shut up before I stick my dick in your stupid, pretty mouth?”

“Oh please, you like it when I talk.”

Harry wants to argue that he doesn’t, but of course, his cock picks that moment to twitch against Malfoy’s thigh, which would really undermine his point.

“Well actually, you hate it,” Malfoy amends. He pulls Harry down by his hair, until their lips are almost touching again. “But you like to hate it,” he whispers against Harry’s lips. “And you hate that you like it.” His voice is soft and breathy, and Harry wants to swallow every word he speaks. “That’s why you kissed me. And that’s why you’ll do it again.”

“Fuck you,” Harry whispers, and then he proves Malfoy right by kissing him again.

“Please do,” Malfoy drawls, and he kisses Harry again. “Trousers off, Potter,” he orders when Harry comes up for air.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Harry grumbles, but does just that, climbing off of Malfoy to get better access.

Malfoy shrugs off his shirt and takes off his own trousers as well. “Do you know how this works, or am I going to have to hold your hand through it?” he asks, voice dripping with saccharine insincerity.

“If you’re asking me if I know how to fuck someone, the answer is yes,” Harry says. He pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo more than the top few buttons. He climbs back onto the bed, situating himself between Malfoy’s legs. “And I’m topping. I don’t trust you not to tear something.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you?” Malfoy scoffs, but he lets Harry finger him anyway. Just one at first, and with the help of a lubrication spell, but he clenches around Harry’s knuckles all the same.

“You’re impulsive,” Malfoy accuses, biting his lip as Harry moves inside him. “Reckless…”

Harry cuts him off by adding another finger. “And you’re a spiteful, spoiled son of a bitch who wouldn’t hesitate to stab me in the back.”

Malfoy moans as Harry finds that little spot inside him, and it feels like a victory.

“You’re a slut for danger,” Malfoy manages.

Harry smirks. “You’re a slut for me.”

“Got- got me there, Potter,” Malfoy admits. “Now, hurry up and get your cock in me. I still want this to hurt a little bit.”

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls his fingers out. “Masochist.” He casts a lubrication spell again and gives himself a few strokes.

“And what does that make you, Saint Potter?”

Harry thinks about it for a moment. “A considerate lover,” he says with a sardonic smile.

“Always the hero, aren’t you, Potter? And here I thought you couldn’t be any more full of yourself.”

Harry lines himself up with Malfoy’s entrance and pushes just enough to feel the resistance. “You really can’t talk, Malfoy,” he says.

Harry moves slowly – intentionally, agonisingly slowly. He pushes himself in, bit by bit, watching Malfoy grow increasingly impatient with every passing second. Malfoy even tries to fuck himself, but Harry holds his hips down against the bed, forcing him to be still. He whines and pouts as Harry presses himself into Malfoy’s heat, leaving fingertip bruises into his skin.

It’s torture for Harry, as well, having Malfoy underneath him and forcing himself to show restraint. But it’s worth it to see the look on his face while Harry makes him wait.

“You’re far more full of yourself than I am,” Harry says. His cock is almost fully buried now. “And now, you’re full of me, too.”

With a snap of his hips, Harry begins to fuck Malfoy in earnest, moving as fast and as hard as his body will let him.

Malfoy lets out a string of curses, but Harry barely pays attention. He’s too distracted by the way Malfoy’s tightening around him, by how fucking good it feels to have him like this.

Malfoy reaches up and grabs Harry by the hair, pulling him down into another violent kiss. The angle of it throws off Harry’s thrusts, but Malfoy makes up for it by matching his movements now that Harry isn’t holding him still.

“You have no bloody, fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Harry growls. “How many times I’ve wanted to bend you over a table or fuck you against a wall.”

“Should’ve-” Malfoy interrupts himself with a sound that makes Harry’s breath catch in his throat for a moment. “Should’ve done it sooner then, Potter.”

“I hate you,” Harry says.

“I hate you too,” Malfoy answers.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #harry x draco #harry james potter #draco malfoy #fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s fics #not osha compliant

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jisungsplatforms · 4 years ago

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[Chapter V: Han Jisung, you irresistible young man!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! language, mentions of homicide (no one actually dies!), oral sex (m. rec) (yes again), exhibitionism

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k words

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn @dwaebinnie @gothmingguk @minniehohos

Unable to tag: @kayannainsworth19

(want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

“You’re evil,” Jisung pouted, pulling down on his oversized shirt to cover his still semi-hard on as the two of you walked down the hall. You snickered, enjoying the way he walked almost painfully.

“Sorry,” you grinned. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“For you!” he cried. He leaned closer to your ear and hissed quietly, “You’re not the one who has a boner!” You quickened your pace, turning your head to throw a wink and a kiss. Jisung grumbled, awkwardly waddling faster to catch up to you. “Minx. You evil she-devil of a minx!”

“Hey, is it my fault you get horny easily?”

“Yes! It’s you, for fucks sake! Have you seen yourself?” he huffed. “You’re on my mind 24/7, do you even know how much you affect me?”

Your heart raced. You rolled your eyes and laughed him off, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your flustered expression. Scoffing playfully, you said, “Now that sounds like a you problem, doesn’t it?”

“Y/n~! Stop!” he whined.

You briefly glanced at his reddened face and sighed. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” You were about to enter the canteen until Jisung grabbed your wrist.

“I know how you can make it up,” he said with a somewhat timid look. He took a deep breath before stating more boldly. “Go on a date with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Wh-what?”

“Let’s go on a date. After school. Tonight.” Jisung stared at you with a newfound determination meanwhile your face grew hotter and hotter by the second. You stared at his reddened face, contemplating, before sighing.

“What time?”

“Oh, what? Seriously?” he gaped. “Holy shit. YES!” He threw his fists up in the air, hollering. “Oh my God, fuck yeah!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he rejoiced, despite the slight embarrassment you felt from the scene he was causing. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you camly shushed him with a smile. “Sorry, I was just—wow. I really landed a date with the hottest person I know,” he chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the top of his fluffy blond hair.

You giggled, moving his hand away from his head to hold it instead. “Better show up all dolled up for me, pretty boy.”

“Pff, I always look good, Y/n. What’re you talking about?” Jisung smirked, obnoxiously holding his head up high. You rolled your eyes at his playful arrogance.

“Watch it. I can change my mind anytime.”

“I know you won’t.” He brought your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. The rate of your heart beat increased, body tingling in adoration. Jisung smiled, letting go of your hand. “Gotta go now, I need to work on some stuff with Chan and Changbin today, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yup, see you soon!” You waved goodbye as Jisung walked away. He was only 5 steps in when he turned around and started walking backwards to speak.

“Tonight’s gonna be a surprise! Just be ready by 6, okay?” he called out.

“Okay!” You watched his retreating figure until he was halfway out of the hall. You walked happily into the canteen, thinking about your date with Jisung.

‘5:56pm’

It’s been 5 minutes since you’ve been mindlessly brushing the ends of your hair. Placing the brush back down onto your coffee table, you stood up to check your outfit on the reflection of the blackened TV screen for the umteenth time, bending down to sweep off any dust from your flowy pants. Now, you weren’t typically the type to obsess over your appearance, but tonight is certainly an exception, right? Grabbing the lip balm in your bag, you slathered on a thin layer of the sweet scented stick, smacking your lips together with a ‘pop’, and placed back inside. A notification went off from your phone. Recognizing the unique ringtone immediately, you hastily bent down to grab it.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: im outside!

Me: Coming out now!

You rushed to the front door, grabbing your keys and switching off the lights in the living room in the process. You double checked everything in your apartment one last time before leaving.

“Hey.”

You jolted in surprise seeing Jisung leaning on the wall right in front of your door. “What the fuck, Jisung, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” he laughed, standing up straight. “I saw Hyunjin earlier and told him about our date. He looked pretty excited.”

“Yeah?” you said as you turned around to lock your door. “Is that why you were standing in front of my door like a creep?”

You giggled at Jisung’s incredulous expression. “I wouldn’t say ‘like a creep’ but yeah, he’s the reason why I found your apartment.”

“Still sounds like a creeper thing to do,” you teased. “I never told you exactly where I lived, that’s lowkey freaky.”

“Oh, uh...Sorry?”

You walked up to him, smiling at his embarrassed face. “It's okay. You’re cute so I’ll allow it.” Grabbing his hand, you led him to the elevator. “Let’s go?”

Jisung instantly smiled, walking fast so he can be the one leading you instead. “Mhm!”

Instead of driving or taking a taxi, the two of you walked. Not that you mind, at least the night was cool enough for you to not sweat. “So? Where are you taking me first?”

“Hey, didn’t I tell you tonight is a surprise?” Jisung grinned. “No questions, no doubting. Just trust me tonight.”

“Well, for all I know, you might be a murderer luring me out for my last night.”

“Please. If I was a murderer, I would’ve killed Hyunjin and Felix for stealing my cheesecake earlier.”

You snorted. “Wait, you like cheesecake?”

“Yup! And chocolate cake! God, I love those.” He looked at you excitedly. “I think it was my mom who got me into cheesecake? She isn’t the type to like sweets that much but cheesecake is the only dessert she genuinely loves.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I remember my brother and I used to go to the store a lot to buy it for her.”

“Cute,” you giggled. You walked a few more blocks before Jisung stopped you.

“Aaand...We’re here!” You looked past him to see a small Italian restaurant. The inside looked homey, not too extravagant, with only a handful of customers inside. It had a minimalistic vibe that you very much enjoyed.

You couldn't help but chuckle. “Cheesy” you joked. “Were you hoping we would ‘Lady and the Tramp’ this?”

“Oh my God,” he gasped exaggeratedly, “that would've been so cool! But no, I heard from Minho one time that you like pasta, so I did some research and found this comfy, and more importantly, affordable place!”

“Aww,” you cooed. “You did research for me?”

“Psh, of course I did! I wanted to impress you,” he said cockily. “So, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh yeah, very much impressed.” You reached over to pat his leather jacket. “Especially with this sexy jacket you’re wearing.” Jisung turned bashful, fumbling with the zipper on his sleeve.

“What? Too much?” he chuckled stiffly. “Changbin actually helped me, believe it or not. He told me you’d find me irresistible if I dressed up like this.”

You took a step back to admire his outfit. From his blond hair nicely styled, to the black ripped jeans he wore that showed off his slender legs, to the runstar hike Converse he wore often. Oh yeah, this man is hot shit, you thought, biting your lip. You looked back up to seeing him fidgeting with his black mock-turtleneck with a flushed face. You giggled, gingerly placing a warm hand on his face so he could face you. “You look good, Sung,” you smiled softly, as opposed to the not-so-innocent thoughts running through your mind. “Changbin’s right, by the way. You do look irresistible.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “But to be honest, I find you irresistible no matter what,” you winked flirtatiously, causing him to blush even more and smile giddily. You walked inside the restaurant, instantly catching the faint scent of cinnamon. Ooh Sweet… You stood near the door, waiting for a host to seat you. After 3 minutes, someone finally came by.

“Hello! I apologize for the wait, we’re just slightly short staffed tonight.”

“Felix?” you and Jisung said. Felix’s eyes widened, just realizing it was you two.

“Y/n? Jisung?” he gasped. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were going out already.”

“We’re, well. Not official yet,” you said. “We’re still in the ‘talking’ stage, right?”

Jisung nodded, humming in agreement. “But this is still a date though.”

“Lit,” Felix cheered, fistbumping Jisung. “I’ll show you to your table now.” Your host led the both of you to the corner of the restaurant. As you sat on the chair, Felix handed you some menus.

“So my bros, I’m Felix, everybody’s favorite little freckled Aussie, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He bowed like he would during a curtain call of a play.

“Your theatre side is coming out, Felix. Is it intermission now?” Jisung joked. You snorted while Felix rolled his eyes.

“Just give me your drinks for tonight.”

Without looking from the menu, you answered, “Water.”

“Just get me any soda you have, man. Thanks!”

“Aight. I’ll be back in 2 minutes to get your orders.” Felix walked back to the host stand to seat another set of customers. You sat in silence, skimming through your options on the menu.

“Didn’t know Felix worked here,” Jisung announced.

You shrugged. “Me neither. I guess that’s why he’s been so busy.” Another wave of silence hit the both of you. You calmly looked at the food presented on the pamphlet. However, Jisung couldn’t take the quietness.

“Remember that photography assignment you’ve been working on?” he paused, waiting for your acknowledgment. You hummed, making eye contact with him. “How is it?”

You grunted, stretching your back. “Honestly. It’s a lot harder than I thought,” you sighed. “I’ve taken countless photos already but none of them seem to resonate within me. I feel so...”

“Trapped? Blocked?”

You stared at him, the mood now oddly serious. “Yeah...Nothing seems to feel right. It’s like I’m missing something.”

“Man, I feel you,” Jisung sighed. “Lately I’ve been feeling that too. You know how many songs I’ve trashed cause they didn’t sound the way I wanted it to?”

“The life of an artist, am I right?” you joked tiredly. He nodded, patting your hand empathetically. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Felix walking back to your table. “Oh shit, Felix is coming back. Hurry up and decide what to get!”

Pain. That was all the two of you could feel.

Your head was on the table, clutching your full stomach. You looked up to see Jisung blankly staring up at the ceiling. Is he still breathing?

All of a sudden, he looked down at you, a smile beginning to form from the corners of his mouth. “You too?”

You groaned, the pain in your stomach coming back. “Why did we order so much goddamn food?”

“Go big or go home,” he weakly cried out, raising his fists up. You laughed in amusement, regretting it immediately after when your stomach started to ache again.

“Holy crap, we’re gonna die in here.”

“‘Least we’re dying happy?”

“Is—shit...A-are guys okay?” Felix asked, worriedly. The sight of your empty eyes greatly concerned him.

“Just had too much food. We’re good,” Jisung answered, giving him a thumbs up.

“Barely,” you muttered as you slowly lifted your head up.

“I wanted to ask if you guys wanted dessert but nevermind…” he eyed you both. You and Jisung made eye contact together before looking back at your friend.

“What’s the special?” you both asked simultaneously.

“Nuh uh. I’m not about to be responsible for your deaths. Go home!”

You pouted. “Come on, Felix. Don’t you love us?”

“Yeah, bro! We can take it, let’s go!”

“If I go to jail for potential homicide, I swear to God,” he sighed. “Fine. The special for tonight is a chocolate cheesecake sprinkled with shreds of Belgian chocolate.”

Both your eyes lit up. You looked back at each other as if you were speaking telepathically. Chocolate cheesecake?

“I’ll get you both only one slice!” Felix scolded. “If you guys need to puke, the restroom is down the hall behind you to your left.” Your freckled friend walked away, into the kitchen, as he glanced back at your drained forms.

“Gosh, now we’re really gonna die in here,” you whispered.

Jisung snorted as he hung his head back over the chair, “At least I’m dying with you.” You stared at his limp figure for a while before feeling the urge to take a picture. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you dug for your phone, finding it, then pulled it out. You swiped to the camera screen and took some candid photos of Jisung. “Hey, hey! Do it again!”

You looked up to see him pouting. “I know I’m handsome but if you wanted to take some pictures, you gotta tell me!” he said, sitting up and fixing his hair. You rolled your eyes, scoffing in amusement.

“Fine. Smile!”

Jisung smiled, winking as he threw up a peace sign. You took two pictures before looking up. “Okay, do something else now.” Now he pointed his index finger and thumb out, placing it under his chin. He winked again, now smiling with his teeth. Then, switching to another pose; he puffed his cheeks, hands cupping his face with his lips pursed. “One more.”

He switched from a cute pose to morphing his face into an ugly one. You laughed, “Gross!” The two of you took a couple more fun pictures together.

“Wow, I’m so handsome. Look at that,” he said. You were about to reply when you saw Felix walking back up to your table.

“Okay, bad news guys. I for real didn’t plan this, but we ran out of dessert.”

“Aww, seriously?” Jisung pouted, looking up at Felix.

He hissed, rubbing Jisung’s back. “Yeah, sorry guys. I guess chocolate cheesecake is in high demand here.”

You watched Jisung frown deepen more, slightly feeling bad. “We can go out to buy some, if you want, Sung,” you offered, holding his hand. He turned his hand so that he was able to hold it properly.

Sighing, he said whilst chuckling to lighten up his mood, “Nah. This is probably a sign for us to stop eating.” He let go of your hand, much to your dismay, and faced Felix. “It’s alright, dude. Maybe next time!”

“I feel bad,” Felix muttered. “I’ll make it up to you guys next time, promise!”

“It’s okay, Lix, it’s not your fault,” you said. “We’ll just get the check now then.”

Felix reached into his apron. “Yeah, here it is,” he said, handing you the black bill holder before walking away. “Sorry, again!”

As You were reaching for your bag to grab your wallet, Jisung stopped you. “I’m paying,” he announced. You gave him a stank look before swatting his hand away.

“I can pay too, you know?”

He refuted. “No, I’m a gentleman. That means me paying for our meal is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Equal rights.”

“My treat.”

The both of you tightly gripped onto the bill, death staring at one another. Neither were going to back down anytime soon. You stared hard at his face as he did the same.

“Okay, fine. Let’s compromise. We split the bill. Deal?”

Jisung hummed in thought. He was about to disagree until you pitched in. “I’ll let you pay a little extra?”

“Deal.”

You placed your split payment inside the bill holder and handed it to Felix. “Thanks guys, come back again soon!”

“Later, dude!”

“Bye, Lix!”

You walked out the restaurant, the bell on the door ringing as you left. You were about to take the path to your house until Jisung stopped you. “Park,” he whispered. “Let’s go to the park.”

You blinked, slightly off guard. “Okay…”

The walk to the park wasn’t too far, literally right across from the restaurant. It was a peaceful night, the cool breeze brushed past your bodies as you walked. Silence filled the air between the both of you; nothing but the wind and the sound of dirt crunching under your shoes was heard. The mood was...romantic. There was no one but the two of you in the area.

Your bodies brushed past one another every once in a while—more specifically, your hands. You wanted to say something when Jisung beat you to it. He shyly slid his hand into yours, watching you from the corner of his eyes, and smiled when you entwined your fingers together.

“Tonight was fun,” you said softly. You leaned closer to his body to rest your head on his shoulder. Jisung tightened his grip on your hand.

“Me too,” he whispered. “I just wish I can spend more time with you.”

“You see me everyday though?”

“Yeah, but like, I mean just you and me, alone; no one else. I—” he inhaled sharply. “I’m greedy, aren’t I?”

You looked at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you all the fucking time, Y/n. It hurts when I’m without you. I feel alive when we’re together. It’s like, I feel like my world would stop if I don’t see you.” You were stunned. You could only listen quietly to his rant.

“God, I sound so possessive, that’s not what I was trying to aim for,” he panicked. “I don’t care if you’re with the guys, or anyone else, I know you're not the type to pull shit like that; I trust you. I just—fuck, why is this so hard?”

He stopped walking all of a sudden and pulled you away from the path, leading you 7 feet into the trees. In any normal circumstance, you would’ve been terrified. However, this was Jisung—and you knew it, somewhere deep down, that he would never do anything to hurt you. He let go of your hand and faced you. “Jisung?”

His heart pounded erratically, he didn’t know if he was on the verge of getting a heart attack. He felt overwhelmed. Having you standing right in front of him felt like a dream. He took a deep inhale in hopes of calming himself down. “I meant what I said this morning.”

“Wh-wha…?”

“You’re in my mind 24/7, Y/n. Everyday, I always think about you to the point I’m starting to think I’m going insane. Every text, every call, every time we talk, my heart feels like it might pop out. I can’t focus and I don’t know what to do about it!” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Every song I’ve written was about you. Every time I look at my phone, I feel so disappointed when I don’t see a text from you.”

Jisung steps closer to you, nearly pinning you to the tree behind you. “You’re my muse, Y/n. I-I don’t really know exactly what my heart wants but all I know is that, you’re the person I want to spend my entire life with. I think…” he paused to take another deep breath. You could feel your own heart stopping, blood rushing up to your face. “I love you, Y/n!” Jisung declared loudly.

You didn’t know if the loud sound of a heart thumping was yours or his. You were stunned, happy, and scared; millions of emotions were racing within you. Not finding the proper words for yourself, you grabbed his face and kissed him. Jisung whimpered in shock, not really expecting that reaction from you. However, he quickly pulled himself together and kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You stayed like that until the burning in your chest overpowered the burn of your hearts. You both gasped heavily, taking back in the air you lost.

“You know,” your warm breath tickled his lips. “I never did take it up for the boner I gave you this morning.”

Jisung blushed, remember the embarrassment from earlier. “Yes you did? Our date is—”

“Then this is your gift.” You slowly kneeled in front of him, caressing his thighs as you went down. Jisung watched in shock.

“I—whoa. H-Here? I-in public? Y/n, that’s—”

“Do you not want this?” you looked up, wanting his confirmation. Jisung’s breath hitched, he never would’ve thought he’d be able to see you like this just yet. He bit his lip and nodded. You smiled, kissing his hip, before undoing his pants. You slowly pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his cock springing up and slapping his stomach. You found yourself drooling, finally seeing his cock in person.

Jisung groaned, the cool air hitting his dick. “Fuck…” You licked your lips then took him whole, catching him off guard. He moaned, his hand now gripping onto your hair. “Holy shit, Y/n!”

You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, as you pumped whatever your mouth couldn’t take in. The man above you let out heavy breaths, trying his best not to moan so loud. That was, in fact, proven to be difficult for your mouth was just heavenly. He rested his forehead onto the tree, looking down at you. Regret filled Jisung’s chest, greeted with the erotic sight of your cheeks puffed out, his cock sliding in and out of your pretty mouth. He moaned loudly into his arm. You moved your other hand to fondle his balls, causing Jisung to buck his hip into your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned. “So good—ah! F-Feels so good, shit!” He threw his head back, covering his mouth to mask his noises. His ragged breathing sounded absolutely delicious. You took his dick halfway out of your mouth, stopping right as you felt only his tip. You sucked harshly on it, tongue swirling around it until you decided to play with his slit.

Jisung roughly pulled on your hair, moaning so loud that it almost echoed through the trees. “Y-y/n…” he whimpered. You looked up to see tears brimming his eyes. You giggled, laughing even more when the vibrations from your vocal cords hit him all in the right places.

“Feels good, baby boy?” you briefly asked, immediately going back to his cock after. He nodded, pushing his hips closer to your face, almost making you choke.

“Y-yes, m-mommy.” A wave of arousal hit your core. You could feel your juices seeping right through your panties. The nickname had you moaning, much to Jisung’s pleasure as well. “Fuck! Mommy, more!”

You continued sucking and playing with the slit on his head as you pumped his shaft with one hand and groped his ball with the other. The higher Jisung’s voice raised, you knew the closer he was.

“Close, baby boy?” you giggled. He nodded, hips no fucking into your hand.

“Yes! Oh my God, I’m so fucking close, mommy!” he stuttered. “Please! Let me cum in your mouth!”

“Such a good boy, of course I’ll let you.” You attached your mouth back into his dick, moving your head once again to bring him closer to his high.

“Holy—FUCK!” Jisung moaned, his hand back onto his mouth to control his voice. His body shook as he released his creamy essence into your mouth. Your tongue swiped across his cock to lap up the rest of his juices. His and your unstable breathing was the only thing that could be heard now. Out of courtesy, you tucked him in back into his pants and stood up.

“Wh-What about you?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head as you patted his head.

“Nevermind about me. You’ve made me happy enough,” you grinned. “When you’re okay again, we can go back home.”

“So...Is this the part where I’m supposed to kill you?” Jisung laughed breathlessly.

The dim lights of the city were nowhere near as bright as your faces. The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, as slowly as you could, in hopes of the night never ending. But alas, the both of you had a morning class the next day. Jisung walked you all the way to your apartment door, telling you it was only for ‘safety measures’. What a liar.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You said as you unlocked your front door. Jisung grinned, pecking the hand he held.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully rolled your eyes. Letting go of his hand, you finally opened your door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You turned around to face him. “Yeah?”

Jisung stood there with a smile wider than before. “I love you.”

You giggled cutely. “Me too,” you said as you walked back to him to kiss his lips. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

“Goodnight...mommy.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes, “Hurry and go home already!” He turned around and started walking to the elevator, calling out one final ‘I love you!’ before he walked inside. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to act cool for you, but the bounce in his walk made him look like he was skipping gleefully. You laughed, walking back inside your apartment.

Inside the elevator, Jisung pulled out his phone to text someone.

Me: hey, minho?

when i finally get married to y/n...

please be our best man! :D

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #skz fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #Late Night Indulges

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allyvampirelass29 · 5 years ago

Text

Taste the Blade

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

"Time to introduce a gun of sorts to our little KNIFE fight!!!!!!!"

Charlie's voice rasped, lethal with his fury, his entire body seething, simmering, boiling over with his hatred, the kind of dark emotion that could kill by pure force of will.

"Reject ME, will you!? You dare REJECT ME, you scheming, ruined WRETCH!?"

Charlie screamed out the open barn door, wishing he could see that haughty little harlot shudder. I'm going to make you squirm, Victoria, just not in the way either of us would like....... His breathing was heavy, his lip snarled as he took that accursed bike in his hands, his long nails biting into the rubber handlebars, the same way they'd bitten into her cheek. That's right, I know you can feel it, Girl, let your eye bleed, and know it's ME, me REFUSING you, taking your own knife, and raising its blade against YOU!!!!

He roughly hauled it out onto the open floor, hurting it like it was a living thing that Vic loved, and he thrust the heel of his palm in vicious assault, smashing the headlight.

As if in counter, as if she could physically sense the abuse, impossibly hear his furious slurs, Charlie's knee shattered on contact, Vic's wielded fire poker connecting with it, as it smashed into the right front fender of The Wraith. He howled as it gave out beneath him, forced to kneel, his mouth open and screaming.

"YOU HATEFUL BITCH!!!!!!"

Charlie tried to stand, and then gritted his teeth, jerking his head to the side in anguish, as his eardrum popped open, shooting blood, while simultaneously, Vic lopped off one of The Wraith's side mirrors.

"DAMN IT, RUN HER DOWN, DRIVE, DO NOT LET HER GET AWAY!!!!!"

He yelled even louder, barely able to make out his own screams, the hearing in his left ear nearly gone. He struggled to stand, reaching for that infernal bike to steady himself, when he cringed with the scraping, first across the shiny top of The Wraith, and then across his own scalp, and he cursed through his teeth, snarling, finally able to get a firm grip on the damned thing, right as he felt the sharp tip of the poker slam into the back of his head. Vic pounded the top of The Wraith with one final blow, knocking him out, and Charlie dropped, hitting the side of his head with almost as much force, as it met with the concrete of the barn floor.

"CHARLIE!?!? CHARLIE, OH MY GOD!!!!! CHARLIE, PLEASE WAKE UP, OH GOD!!!!!!"

His vision was still dark around the edges, slowly opening his black eyes, drawn from the oblivion by a voice. Her voice. Ally's tearful screams echoed dreamily through his mind, muffled, the sound fuzzy like an old am radio. The breath he drew was sharp, more puncture to his lungs than aid, his temple throbbing, everything a haze of onslaught pain, pretty pinned up curls, and morose green eyes. His name on her lips, and he watched her mouth it, watched it take shape, thankful she had come now, and not however many minutes previous........ He groaned, trying to lift his head, feeling for his injured ear, blood staining his fingertips. She could never know.......

She wouldn't have understood. She would have hated him, blamed him for the kiss, when the fault was entirely Victoria's. She tempts me. Oh how she tempts me, tempts my anger, my hatred. I didn't have a choice, oh that infuriating female! She had to be dealt with....... one method at a time.

Charlie cried out as Ally delicately laid him in the lap of her full skirts, accidently moving his shattered knee, and she sobbed, cradling his head in her palms, her fingers trembling, smoothing her thumb over his good cheek, before reaching for something behind her.

Charlie gasped, his breath escaping with his relief, and there was a loud hiss as the ball of snow pressed into his singed cheek, the badly burnt flesh meeting with the frozen cold.

She held it there, stroking his forehead to soothe him, his lip trembled, and he watched, mystified as she fretted and fussed over him. Well, well, well, look who loves her monstrous husband after all........ That's what she'd called him, that's what they'd all called him. Jo, Vic, not to mention his shrew of a first wife, and yet when Ally had said it, it'd had a much different effect than any of the others. It...... excited him. Because he knew...... that even though his true nature had been revealed, and she knew what he was, what he had done, he could feel it. Her still wanting him. Willing to survive the monster if it gifted her the man.

"Charlie........ Charlie, I'm so sorry, W-What happened!?"

"What do you think happened, My Dear? Vic! Damn it! Vic McQueen happened!"

Charlie growled, nostrils flaring, but something inside him softened as he felt her delicate hand stroking his mussed coif, the other settling against his chest. She went to work unbuttoning the collar of his fine dress shirt, and he watched how nimbly her fingers moved before they froze on one of his pearl buttons, uncovering the diagonal bruise, a pained murmur escaping her lips. He'd never had this before....... This fuss and female concern, this womanly need to care for him, ease his suffering. His own mother could not have been more apathetic to his boyhood scraped knees, when he'd come to her crying, and she'd always cursed his softness, demanding he get tougher. I did just that, now, didn't I, Mummy? Charles scoffed calling that callous, self-obsessed strumpet the ridiculous moniker she could never deserve. But as this beautiful girl held his face, sobbing, lamenting his afflictions, he didn't feel tough at all. He felt weak to her touch, very much the same frightened little boy who'd lived for centuries, starved of the affection that he was so afraid to want.

"Vic....... VIC did THIS to YOU!? I don't understand! The truce! You granted her clemency, spared her from the flame at my behest!"

"Yes, I allowed you to move me to mercy, when I knew the truce was laughable at best. I tried so hard to tell you, to warn you of her scheming treachery. Vic McQueen is NOT your friend. However, you're very persuasive....... especially in that dress."

He watched the colour flit across her pale face, and he admired her royal blue taffeta sleeves, and blue silk bodice, her corset making her figure all the more slender and elegant, a long flowing crimson cloak tied around her snow white neck. Her Coronation Gown. He'd matched the colours to his own attire, crafted every stitch, making sure it was the perfect complement, and still had to practically force her into it come Coronation Day. The day Christmasland was motherless no more. Look at you now, Mrs. Manx......... Wearing it freely, of your own volition, looking every bit like the queen I always knew you'd be........

"How could she break the truce in this most heinous fashion, attack you in stealth, unprovoked, mar My Charlie's beautiful face!?"

Ally sobbed again, desolate, and his long fingernails grazed an escaped curl, as he reached up to brush her tears from her face. Such sadness, such...... tender care, and yet there were the slightest hissing undertones of anger that were utterly delectable. He wanted to stoke them, start a fire. Time to show Vic McQueen just how unshakable our love REALLY is, Ally. You're going to punish her, because you love me........

"Am I then, still........ Your Charlie?"

More silent tears streamed down her heartbroken face, and she held his good cheek in her palm, leaving the slightest whisper of a kiss on his burnt one, taking pains not to hurt him.

"Of course........ Oh Charles, how can you doubt me?"

"How can I not? When you refuse to see Vic McQueen for the wickedness, the vulgarity, the menace that she is? That curse of a girl threatens our home, our perfect world, and still you would seek to save HER from me!? And yet, am I not the one that lays bleeding?"

Ally cried harder, covering her mouth and hanging her lovely head, ashamed. "It is true, Charles, I found your hatred, your ire for this teenage girl unnatural, and was most disturbed by it, by how you forced my hand to bring forth her near demise....... But now the veil has been lifted, and I see through her, appalled by these horrors she has inflicted upon you! Dear Sir, you were just in your fervor, your tirade against her. I am a fool, for this, your brutalized state, is my own folly."

Charles felt her hug him to her chest, and he relaxed his cheek against her corseted breast, his heart trembling, feeling the peek of delicate skin, the warm, womanly softness beneath her bodice. He hugged her body back, nestling into the curve, the pain incredulously dulled.

"Heavens no, Sweet, Sweet, Wife......" His nostrils flared as he breathed in the teasing scent of her skin, closing his eyes. "All is good and lovely in your eyes, so quick to believe the best in all of us, even when you've seen the worst. I can see now how nefarious and under-handed my zeal must have seemed to you."

"Please....... Please forgive me, Charles?"

"T'was not your hand that wrote this evil....... but perhaps, it might just be the deliverer from it......."

He pressed his lips into the swell of her sensitive skin and whether it was from his words or his amourous attentions, she shivered. He gazed up at her, his eyes piercing.

"Of course, Charles, you need only ask! I want only to soothe you, act as balm, say the word, and it is yours, any comfort that my hands may bring."

Charlie smiled, but his dark eyes were all mischief. Just your hands, My Sweet? How could you deny me all the other comforts and fleshly pleasures your body so obviously possesses? Ohhhhhh I would give up Christmas itself, and all of its ornamented wonders, if I could lay forever pillowed upon the curve of such a blossoming breast....... Alas, My Bride, it is not comfort I seek from these artful hands, but rather your most crushing destruction and revenge. He brushed his cheek against her body, as she cradled him in her arms, her legs tucked under her, so very ladylike, so desperate to do penance for her imagined crimes, aching so to please him, begging now, for what she had fought so hard against.

"I must confess......... My Lady, there is something, a gesture, that would prove your love, and inspire my generous forgiveness."

Ally beamed at him, her tears quieted, leaning down over him, wanting his lips, and he took hers graciously.

"Anything. Charles........ Anything." She whispered, and, as much as he lamented pulling away from this most pleasing position, he struggled to sit upright, the malignant request tasting delectable on his tongue.

"I would feel much assuaged........ if you might write me a little something......."

Ally shrank back with a gasp, terrified, shaking her head as he procured one long, slender, iron tipped black pen, emblazoned with a black rose and thorns, from the silk lining of his chauffer's coat.

"You would CARRY that instrument of evil on your person!? Charles, NO....... Please.....

"Take it." He said forcefully, his eyes flashing with obsidian fire.

"No, I can't- I beg you, My Darling, Anything else!"

"Do you love me, Allyssa?" He said softer, reaching to touch her perfectly pinned curls, fingering them with fondness, his eyes focusing on her unflinchingly.

"Yes- With all my heart." She whispered tremulous, and he held it out closer to her, watching her eye it with all the fear and reverence it deserved.

"Good girl. If you love me, you'll take the pen, raise your knife against your husband's attacker, and let the words BURN."

Ally bit her lip, and he moved closer, grazing the pen up and down her cheek, before using it's handle to turn her head to the side, feeling her recoil as it touched her skin, and he leaned in so that his lips just barely grazed her cheek as he spoke.

"Why do you hesitate to avenge me?"

"Oh Charles....... I assure you, my hesitation is not for her sake. I curse Victoria for what she's done to you, how she's hurt you......"

"It pains me not to be as pretty for you......." He whispered softly, easing up on the pressure of the pen, brushing his nose against the side of her head, smelling her hair deeply.

"You're still pretty........ So pretty, Charles." She whispered, closing her eyes with a breathy murmur, so affected, and Charles could feel it happening, her surrendering her defenses.

"How do you feel....... When you see me like this, the man you love, attacked, abused, used so spitefully? He breathed each word, feeling his own enthrallment rise. It was one thing to force her hand, as she'd so eloquently put it, but for her to raise it willingly for him, want to author Victoria's pain, ohhhhh that was an arousal he could scarce wait for. Let's play with fire, Mrs. Manx.

Ally paused, and he could taste something in her hesitation, something she didn't want to admit, even to herself.

"I feel........ Furious. I feel........something I've never felt before, Charles. Rage?"

"Good, ohhhh yes. Let the anger rise with the fire of your words, and take up the pen!!! Pour your revenge into the rhyme until it consumes you."

Ally cried, angry tears this time, frustrated, torn between her paralyzing fear of her duplicitous gift, and this strange new desperation to repay Vic's cruelty in full, the heat burning though her, warping her mind. Hate bourne of Love. The most dangerous kind.

"Curse you, Vic McQueen." She shuddered with the words, how vile they sounded, come from her own mouth, which before today, had only reaped kindness.

"Say it again. Louder." He instructed, slowly helping her to her feet, the cartilage reforming in his knee, rapidly healing. It's about damn time, Bing.

"Curse you, Vic McQueen!!!!" Ally hissed, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched, the sound biting, Charles' poor face stoking that tamped down fire.

"Scream it." Charlie demanded, his face manic, eyes intense, pupils dilated, everything returned to full volume, a new ear drum growing, as Bing Partridge reaffixed the side mirror.

"I want to hear you scream......."

Ally felt her hands shake, her rage once kindled, becoming a wildfire, escaping through the door that Charlie had somehow opened, feeding on the rush of oxygen, and in that moment all she could think about was making Vic McQueen scream.

"CURSE YOU, VIC MCQUEEN!!!!!! You DARE to lay a hand on MY husband, I will SHATTER you!!!!!" Ally didn't recognize her own voice, feeling outside of her body, and Charlie Manx reveled in it, his nerves trembling with the shrill danger of the sound.

"Take the pen, and DO it........ AVENGE Me. He rasped, and he fell even more in love with her, as she furiously snatched it out of his hand. Being led by something else now, not Charlie, not her own sound mind, but something he'd created in her, something he'd hidden within, unbeknownst to her, her love for him, twisting into something dark.

She surprised herself, having sworn she would NEVER do it again, never raise those HELLISH words against anyone else, but she HATED that horrid girl for hurting him, and she knew Charlie was right........ Vic McQueen had to be punished.

"Tell me....... Tell me what to do......." She shuddered again, more angry than scared, but this time it was not just fear of her knife, or Charlie's malevolent influence, it was fear purely of herself.

Charlie, his eyes screaming murder, strode over to the blazing red motorcycle that Vic McQueen loved more than anything in this world, the motorcycle that meant her freedom. He picked it up, as if it weighed nothing, and roughly set it down before Ally, his voice as cold as ice.

"Oh Mrs. Manx........ I think you know exactly what to do. Get...... Creative."

She shivered as he circled behind her, her pen poised in her quivering fingers, the sharp tip of her knife pointed at the motorcycle that had caused all this trouble, this needless suffering.

Charlie placed his hands on either of her sides, taking her into his arms, turning his nose into her cheek, his voice proud and coaxing.

"Write. Write with your fire....... and my ice."

She shook even more as he let her go, the fury of words bursting from her lips, as if she couldn't control them, scribbling frantically, possessed by her revenge, the air itself igniting as she wrote, but Charlie's thrill came in knowing that she was very much in control, his pretty puppet cut loose of her strings, and it was even more crazed physical passion than he'd ever dreamed, hanging onto her every smouldering word, having never loved her more than this moment, when she embraced and became what she had denied herself to be for so long. Powerful.

"VICTORIA MCQUEEN HEAR MY SCREAM YOU, VENOM! POISON TO MY CHARLIE VENGEANCE IS MY DESTINY YOU HATE THAT I LOVE HURT WHAT I ACHE FOR NOW IT'S MY TURN TO TAKE BLADE TO THIS THAT YOU ADORE RED CHARIOT THAT BROUGHT YOU HERE DELIVERED YOU TO THIS ACT MY GREATEST FEAR OH THIS MENACE ON TWO WHEELS FREEZE NOW BLOOD RED METAL TASTE THE BLADE TASTE THE ICE CRACK AND BREAK LIKEWISE UNTIL BY FIRE YOU SUFFER TWICE

Charlie's laugh was rollicking and wicked, watching hungrily as Vic's bike froze over, crystallizing, cracking and breaking apart, as if introduced to a supernatural cold, the handlebars and axles brittle, snapping off, the tires melting, the red paint peeling like blood, as the fire met the ice, and the two finished Big Red off in their drastic extremes.

Ally collapsed with the intensity of the creative force ripping through her, the barn filled with her scorching words, and Charles rushed to catch her, the pen falling from her ink stained fingers.

He plucked both it and her up, carrying her inanimate form, cradled in his arms to the open door, and he felt a slight sting as his face began to heal itself, his former handsomeness returned in the fiercest fashion. Burning words became white smoke, and he looked back over his shoulder at his wife's good work with a devilish smirk.

"Bang. Bang."

#nos4a2 #charlie manx x oc #vic mcqueen #charlie manx #the wraith #christmasland #paradise for the lost #paranormal romance

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hellrisen · 5 years ago

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WHAT IS UP, MY DUDES ? the name’s mads. short for mads mikkelsen’s #1 fan and lover —— alternatively amanda. you can call me whatever you want, though. or anytime :wink: i am twenty - three years young, and i go by she / them pronouns. my favorite movie franchise is scream and i think machine gun kelly is the best thing since sliced bread. but that’s enough about me … so, click the READ MORE below for a brief introduction to my oc’s !

ALISHA BOE, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER … you’re looking for sawyer kinney? town as small as this, you’re bound to find them — the twenty-two year old nephilim and student with an unadulterated love for soccer, bonne bell cotton candy lip smackers, and 1980′s romcoms. with blondies′ sunday girl set as the soundtrack of their stroll, everyone can see clear as day that they’re tenacious, and yet blithe. i just hope you’re finding them for the right reasons …

BACKSTORY …

MEET SAWYER KINNEY —— half angel, half fun. adopted by a nice christian pair in ‘97 after her mommy kicked the bucket. that’s what happens when you fraternise with angels, you see. so … daddy dearest dropped her off at one of eden’s many, many, many churches and said SEE YA !

since then, angelic endeavours have been stifled. for the most part. her adoptive parents died when she was thirteen years old. car crash. and it might’ve been partially sawyer’s fault. we can’t all control our divine urges. or the powers inherited from fathers we never knew.

premonition and other sorts of fun hasn’t been experienced since. partially due to the seizure meds her family feeds her like tic tacs. she’s got epilepsy ! except she like, doesn’t. but from an adult pov and an absence of telekinetic rages since childhood, sawyer accepts the diagnosis at face value. nobody said she was smart.

she’s a vet student, though ! so, she’s semi - smart. sawyer loves all animals ( bunnies mostly ) and has since she was a wee lass. same goes for soccer. nobody loves muddy balls as much as sawyer kinney, y’all.

survivor of three near death experiences, only one which was self - inflicted, sawyer’s kind of convinced herself to have a purpose. she doesn’t. but since the third incident, she’s been more connected to god than ever before. a poor idolisation considering he’d have her sniped if he knew of her existence.

another addition to sawyer’s idiocy is her lack of deep thought regarding the town she lives in. yeah, it’s quirky ! and people are superstitious ! but that’s all there is to it. but as she’s starting to engage more with the vamps of eden, as well as pushing for a release from her medication, she’ll have to unveil this creep - fest for what it is … well, a creep fest.

PERSONALITY …

she’s pushy. like, very. sawyer’s very engaged with her friends and family, possibly due to middle child slash adopted child syndrome. include her or die.

competitive, too. she can get kinda mean when there’s a WINNER title on the horizon. because she has to win, she must win — she’s the best person at whatever they’re competing in. swear to satan ! ( that was me, not sawyer, don’t worry. )

on top of that, sawyer’s the epitome of a social butterfly. she’ll befriend anyone at any given opportunity, and maybe that’s why she’s gonna end up dead in an alley. either way, if there’s a person she does not know —— sawyer will know them by the end of the day. so, it goes without saying then, that she’s quite the partier. drinking is fun ! dancing is fun ! okay ? cool.

STEVEN YEUN, DEMI BOY, HE/THEY … you’re looking for wolfgang baek? town as small as this, you’re bound to find them — the thirty-seven year old human and podcast host with an unadulterated love for dario argento films, his super 8 camera, and chicken mcnuggets is easy to spot. with charles manson’s look at your game, girl set as the soundtrack of their stroll, everyone can see clear as day that they’re meddlesome, and yet voluble. i just hope you’re finding them for the right reasons …

BACKSTORY …

MEET WOLFGANG BAEK —— flop movie director / screenwriter, son of a successful movie director / screenwriter, who resorted to hosting a spooky podcast. men, am i right ? always making them podcasts …

wolfie is what you call a movie buff. horror movies specifically. he loves himself a good scare ! hence why he moved to this little hell - town called eden. it was all for that sick and twisted inspiration. for what you ask — well, for his next movie, duh ! the one he started four years ago and has yet to finish … yeah, that one.

due to his father’s job he spent the majority of his childhood on the cinematic scene. both off and on screen. yeah, he got a cameo in one of his daddy’s 1980′s films ! jealous yet ? you should be. but it isn’t just because of that he has never done a sport in his life, okay … he also has heart issues, baby. a defect heart valve that got fixed ( best it could ) when he was a wee bean. it’s fine now. for the most part.

now he’s kind of obsessed with outdoing his dad even though that is the biggest cliche out of all the cliches and he’s aware of the fact. simply being introspective is not enough, is it ? he’s made a couple shorts, and one feature length — flops the whole bunch. i mean, they’re decent to OUR standards. but to this perfectionist ? nah, son. burn that shit.

PERSONALITY …

wolfie can be … callous. insensitive. a bit of a prick. not in the sense of deliberate asshole - ness, but — he’s desensitised to the world’s tragedies ( too many true crime dramas ) and he’s incredibly pretentious. it’s cinema, darling.

he talks a lot, too. TOO MUCH ! nobody asked for his input regarding the rise and the decline of the slasher genre but here he is … putting it in regardless. odds are every other sentence includes either a. a movie reference, or b. a true crime reference. pick one.

because he’s all work and no play, he’s never had a serious girlfriend. i know ! shocking, right ? i mean, look at him !!!!!!!! but no. longest relationship lasted a whooping four months and we don’t talk about that one. there might be a part of him that believes he’s incapable of love … we don’t talk about that either.

AUBREY PLAZA, AGENDER, SHE/THEY … you’re looking for muriel stafford? town as small as this, you’re bound to find them — the thirty-five year old possessed human and journalist with an unadulterated love for impromptu road trips, take-out delivery food, and burt’s bees pomegranate lip balm is easy to spot. with santana’s she’s not there set as the soundtrack of their stroll, everyone can see clear as day that they’re aloof, and yet perspicacious. i just hope you’re finding them for the right reasons …

BACKSTORY …

MEET MURIEL STAFFORD —— stanford graduate and general pain in the butt. disowned by her family and the whole ghost hunting community. things we don’t discuss: see above.

to make a long story incredibly short, merle grew up in a haunted house. or so they say … you see, when merle was nine years old, her sister was possessed BY THE DEVIL. or so they say … and all that trauma ? documented, darlings. because momma and poppa don’t hesitate to capitalise on their own children. sickening.

according to merle, her sister suffered a psychotic break, and her parents — previously z listers with an affinity for running ghost hunting blogs — didn’t hesitate to make the fact their latest pitch. AND TO STARDOM THEY WENT ! meanwhile, agnes delgado chugged drain - cleaner two years after it aired.

fast forward last year of college, and the anniversary of the notorious exorcism documentary comes creeping up. so merle says enough is enough ! girl puts her soon - to - be journalism degree to use and writes an extensive exposé on her own fam. that ought to show them, right ? well …

turns out : her input was not wanted. as if it wasn’t bad enough to have the remainder of the delgado clan turn on her, the anonymous identity she’d craved ever since entering the spotlight years ago — it is snatched from her ! safe to say she did not think it through.

so, what now ? well, we change our last name to our mommy’s maiden name and we escape the hell - scape that is texas and then, we hope nobody added your newly - zit - free face to memory. because it’s been * math years * ! okay ? forget it … you never read any of the above …

PERSONALITY …

merle has never cared for much in general, and that’s very obvious. she has a very deadpan approach to life and all of its difficulties. plus, riveting backstory in mind — she’s unlikely to share details of her life unless it pertains recent mundane bull - crap !

going against everything previously established, her attitude towards the supernatural is not skeptical. aliens, ghosts, ghouls … all things that exist. because muriel delgado grew up in a haunted house. and while her adult mind rationalised all that was seen in her childhood, it also suffered a break of its own post her sister’s death - aversary.

it’s nice to come face to face with old friends, though, innit ? and if all she has left of her past is the demonic presence lurking in the back of her mind, then so be it. beggars cannot be choosers, merle.

#ion have tags fr this #we're also gonna pretend i posted this months ago <3

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szopenhauer · 4 years ago

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Give me a random word in another language. Tell me what it means. ulica - street or czekolada - chocolate *I bet you read/spell those wrong :P

How long does it roughly take you to do grocery shopping? depends, I’m pretty fast, especially if I buy local but sometimes there’s no product I need in the store so I go to another

Which city would you like to visit- Rome, London or Paris? London, then Paris, then Rome

Would you rather visit Australia or Germany? Germany, I have no interest in Australia at this point

Would you prefer a pet rat, mouse, snake, lizard or spider? rat or mouse, definitely not a spider because of M.

Can you play the violin? If not, would you like to? no and no

Can you keep a pokerface and not show your emotions easily? often

Are you a good liar (tell the truth this time)? can be but I don’t like to lie

Are you wearing shoes, just socks or nothing on your feet? ugg slippers and fuzzy socks

Do you prefer to write etc, etcetera or something else? etc itp itd and such

Do you think rainbows are pretty or overrated? overrated

Are you more skeptical or gullible? skeptical

How often do you drink sodas or fizzy drinks? never

Do you currently live in the same country you were born in? sure

Do you struggle to articulate your thoughts and feelings? sometimes

Do you like carrot cake? gross

Don’t you hate it when people say ‘I don’t mean to be rude but…’? omg

How good is your memory? ha ha ha

Is there anyone you love, whose name starts with M? XD

Have your neighbors ever complained that your music/TV was too loud? weird but they actually didn’t!

How many zeroes occur in your mobile phone number? none

Are you currently wearing anything green? am not

Name an animal that starts with the 2nd letter of your middle name. -

Have you ever had feelings for someone whose name started with S? yup

How many red lipsticks do you own? old one, past expiration date

What are you doing to improve or maintain your health currently? my best lmfao which is not enough, if only I had money...

Do you ever look at someone’s social media posts and feel a little jealous? who doesn’t?

Do you like how your hair looks today? I washed them last night but didn’t look at myself in the mirror in the morning just yet

What health problem are you struggling with currently? list is too long

Do you take life day by day? I’m on survival mode

Do you have a lot of questions? would say so

List 10 fashion trends you like/dislike. current? I’m not aware... let me check according to Vogue there are puffy sleeves that I’m not into but they’re not gross, gold - fine if not too much I suppose, cardigans - I prefer not open tops but sometimes they’re useful indeed, check pattern (no surprises here - checkered stuff for summer? groundbreaking) - same opinion as with puffy sleeves, maybe it’s the fact of popularity and fall stereotypes that pushes me away from the thing but... nvm, lets move on! fringe - bags with it are noice but I prefer to not use smth that might cause an accident... matrix coats? why not?! Nat’s Spike mode - count me in? gonna feel like a leather couch again, red color causes my anxiety and anger issues but in small doses is like gold I mentioned above, suits are Vinnie’s but I don’t mind ‘em for specific occassions, inflate bottoms aren’t casual so not no chance of using that in everyday life, masculine fashion? POSITIVELY TRIGGERED - love me some bad boy vibes - excited AF, back to black - classy, what else is there to say? ;)

Are you ready for Jesus to come back? please

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? hopefully?

Do you have too much clutter in your home? we are hoarders/maximalists

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? *shrug*

Have you ever taken a photo every day for a year? no patience for shit like that, sorry

Do you have way too many photos stored on your computer? oh well...

Do you take a lot of selfies? probably

Do you ever multi-task? usually

Are you multi-tasking right now? not really atm

Are you “with” the very last person you kissed? we’re engaged

Have you ever broken up with someone for someone else? poniekąd na koloniach był taki chłopczyk, którego nikt nie lubił, najmłodszy, no i mi go było żal, że Aneta (w jego wieku, moja koleżanka) nie chce z nim tańczyć to się nad nim zlitowałam i od razu mnie polubił, przyniósł mi kwiatki jakieś wodne i potem po prostu przestałam się nim zajmować bo nasza opiekunka szukała dziewczyn dla takiego grubszego chłopaka nieśmiałego i dzięki temu miał grono fanek, ale wybrał akurat mnie i to mi pochlebiało, dał mi swoją czapkę z daszkiem na trochę (potem wyjechał szybciej niż inni więc mu oddałam i w sumie trochę szkoda było iż nie miałam z nim kontaktu bo się wstydziłam poprosić - mówili na niego LODÓWA), w końcu zdeterminowana wziąć kolonijny ślub uczepiłam się wręcz Łukasza (kolegi tamtego - Piotra czy Pawła) i nawet miałam pierścionek zrobiony specjalnie dla nas przez kowala oraz dyplom, wykonywaliśmy zadania i wyniósł mnie na rękach (ledwo) i suknię ślubną skleciłam hahaha, a tak na serio robiłam to tylko żeby się pochwalić, że ktoś mnie chciał, nie ważne kto, a tamten pierwszy malec mnie za to kopnął w dupę (serio) i musiałam się z nim godzić przy wychowawcy, ale mnie unikał jak ognia obrażony potem, wszyscy byli ode mnie kilka lat młodsi ^^” taka byłam, albo to była Anya/Amy, nie wiem, chciałam się dopasować, moje BPD ze mnie wyłaziło ehh jeśli to się nie liczy to były potem też przecież momenty kiedy przerzucałam się z jednej dziewczyny na drugą zainteresowaniem bardzo szybko, czasami wracałam do poprzedniej byleby dostać odrobinę uwagi, czuć sie potrzebna, nie być taka samotna czy coś - ale nie liczyłam na nic poważnego, żyłam tu i teraz, żeby nie odstawać, bo przyszłości przecież i tak miałam nie mieć, więc dowartościowanie się jedynie wchodziło w grę lub poczucie przynależności, bycie opcją, wręcz masochistycznie nawet jak wiadomo, swego rodzaju bezpieczeństwo - flirt/zabawa

How many windows are open on your computer? shitload

Have you ever laughed at something that wasn’t meant to be funny? whoops

Have you done anything sneaky lately? maybe

Does someone have feelings for you? it seems

Are you hard to please? am I? I’m picky about some things but usually it’s not my fault like food, sigh...

Relationship to the last person you called? my doctor

What color shirt are you wearing? grey

Is there anything you wish you did today? Why haven’t you done it? I plan, I’ll try

What were you doing before you started this survey? bunch of things

Can you honestly say that you love yourself? umm...

Do you think you spend too much time feeling upset? sadly

Do you own a pair of uggs? have ‘em on! as I already said above

Has the person you have feelings for ever told you that you’re attractive? I don’t believe her

Do you hide your feelings or show them? depends, usually show tho

Do you like to have long hair or short hair? short

Do you think relationships are hard? everything is but point is if it’s worthy

Any friends who are constantly venting about their significant other? luckily no longer have any friends like that, no friends at all actually

Have you ever been ice-skating? just once and don’t wanna

Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? often

Have you ever seen an albino person, in person? I haven’t

Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? nope

Do you obsessively apply lip-gloss or lip balm? eww, hell no

Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? yeah, gross

When you can tell that someone’s lying, do you call them out on it? sometimes, I might

Do you like Musicals? nooo

Do you live with anyone that you try to avoid at all costs? no comment

When was the last time you cried? that night from happiness :3

What kind of bottoms are you wearing? my SW pajama pants but gonna change now

What do you hear right now? my mom talking <rolling my eyes>

In the past week have you got your hair cut? nope

In the past week have you felt sad? obvi

Has someone disappointed you recently? yep

If you could pack up and move, would you? asap

What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? I’m scared to...

What was the last thing you worried about that turned out better than expected? my gf proposing to me for example?

What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? bread, I wish I had variety :(

When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? with my mother it’s frequent

What was the last thing you changed your mind about? it’s a rollerclaster XD

Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? dad and M. - I wish I could count on my other parent and sister...

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nalgenewhore · 6 years ago

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your hoodie

She had tried to stop reaching.

Across the bed, for a body that would never be there again. Never again would it be hers to hold. Never again would that body be her protection, her salvation. Never again.

He had left, to travel the world he told her. But she knew that he had left to get away from her.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Elide’s voice was trembling. Lorcan didn’t acknowledge her question and continued to take all of his belongings from her room and stuff them in a bag. “Lorcan. Please listen to me.” She was begging him through her sobs. Although she could see his restraint crumbling, the urge to comfort her nearly wrecking his resolve, he squared his shoulders and brushed past her, making a beeline for the door of her apartment. “Stop! Please don’t leave, baby.” She ran after him and grabbed his arm just as he was moving through the doorway. Lorcan looked down at her, face an unbreakable mask. “Stay, stay with me, don’t go. Please.” Lorcan said nothing save for the words that would ruin her and bang around her head forevermore.

“I can’t, Elide. I love you but I can’t, we can’t do this anymore.” And then he was gone.

I can’t

I love you but we can’t do this anymore

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. They didn’t matter anymore. They all bled together, bending and folding into matter that had no importance. All they did was take her further away from her last moment with him.

They took her further away from the only person who could save her from this damnation.

The one that had broken her, broken her so completely, so fundamentally that it could never, would never be the same again.

The one she would never stop loving.

There it was. The integral truth that in her anguish, in her heartbreak, her being still yearned for him.

It was the only emotion Elide felt in its raw form. Everything else took too much energy so her world, her vibrant and sparkling world, turned muddled and muffled.

He was like a balm, refreshing and soothing, able to heal her and ease her pain.

And he would never be hers again.

The thoughts that swirled around her head were ugly ones, ones she feared.

Elide sat almost sunk into the couch of her apartment. The TV was on but she didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything. Her mind always led back to him. And how she wished for just one more.

One more kiss. One more hug. One more night. And then one more breakfast, one more lunch and one more dinner.

And that if she added up the one mores, they would equal a lifetime. And she would never get to the part where she let him go.

But that wasn’t real. It wasn’t. He left. He wasn’t coming back.

A sinister voice in her head whispered that it was her. She had drove him away. She had made him leave. She was why he hadn’t talked to any of their friends for half a year. It was her.

A soft knock set her moving to the door. The digital clock glaring at her had her yanking the door open. The halfway angry greeting died on her lips.

“Lorcan?” A glance down her body had her realizing she was still clad only in the hoodie he had forgotten.

“Elide. Hi.” His proximity was too much, it was suffocating her. She needed space, she needed air. The room around her went fuzzy, her heartbeat pounding louder and louder, her breaths coming faster and faster. Vaguely she discerned large hands gripping her, slipping around her, lifting her to a warm, sculpted chest. She was being moved, past the glaring clock, past the couch.

Moments lasted until she and him were under the sheets, her still pressed to him. He shifted his hand from her shoulders to her hair, running it through her raven hair until her thundering heart calmed and she was left with the understanding that he was home. After leaving her.

“Lor,” her voice broke.

“Don’t speak, E. Just breathe.”

She swallowed past her dry and constricting throat. “No, what is this?”

“I have to explain.” She stayed silent this time, waiting for what she had been obsessing over for the last six months. She didn’t say anything but she raised from the bed and placed herself on the beanbag in the corner of her room, next to her books. “I had to leave. I wasn’t good enough for you, this wouldn’t have been good for you.”

“How do you know that?”

“You were better off without me, you know? I’m… I’m really happy for you.”

She let out the first laugh she had laughed in half a year. “You’re happy for me? You’re happy that you completely broke me? You’re happy that I haven’t been able to talk to anyone except for Aelin and Lysandra? You’re happy that I don’t leave this apartment?” Elide was standing now, hands wound in her hair in frustration. Lorcan looked up at her from his perch on the bed and the anguish flooding his pitch eyes was so real, it was though she would be able to hold it in her hand.

“Do you think that these past six months have been easy for me?” asked Lorcan bitterly. “You think that I’ve been able to move on from this, from you?” He stood now but didn’t approach her. Elide was shaking in anger. Her hands dropped from her hair and she pointed an accusing finger at him. “No. You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what, Elide?”

“You don’t get to come back here, disrupt my life, and have the balls to act as if it was me who left, me who abandoned you.”

“I—” She raised her finger. “I’m not done talking.” Lorcan sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You know what, Lorcan? Fuck you. You ruined me. I am completely and irrevocably shattered. I will never be the same again and it’s your fault. You broke me, fully and wholly.” Tears pricked at her eyes and she let them fall, letting him see what he had done to her. “And you didn’t even tell me why.” Lorcan fell heavily on the bed, head in his hands, shoulders hunched. “I wasn’t enough for you.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I am broken and I am not enough of anything for you.”

“You don’t think that I was broken either? You—”

“El, please, just let me talk, OK?” She nodded in confirmation.

“I don’t deserve anything in life, least of all you and all you gave me. That’s why i had to go, why I left, why I,” he let out a long breath, “why I abandoned you.”

Elide moved until she was standing in front of him, between his legs. She curled her hands into fists and halfheartedly banged his chest. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve and who is good enough for me, especially you. I loved you, I love you and all I wanted was for you to love me too.” Lorcan gripped her wrists.

“Don’t ever doubt whether I loved you or not. I will always love you, believe me.” Elide let out a dark chuckle.

“Believe you? You left! How was I supposed to think that anything you ever said to me was real?”

“I left because I loved you, because I love you.” Elide shook her head and tried to move back but Lorcan’s hands on her waist had her stuck in place. “I don’t believe you, Lor, I can’t.”

“El, please, believe me. What else do you want me to say?” He shifted his hands to frame her face, Elide’s hands coming to cover his. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. She refused to meet his eye line instead finding the zipper on his jacket very interesting. “You never even said you were sorry.” Elide said it quietly that he almost missed it. Almost. “What?” She finally looked at him and he could see the flame burning.

“You never said you were sorry for what you did.” His heart dropped, how could he have hurt this woman, this, this siren that loved him with all that she was. “I-I’m sorry, for everything. I didn’t want to waste your life with someone like me.” Tears leaked down his face and Elide gently wiped them with the sleeves of the his worn hoodie, the one he had had since he was in university, the one that had the scent elderberry and cinnamon intertwined, making a new smell that was utterly Elide and Lorcan. “I never felt like that,” she told him softly as she continued to graze her little fingers over his cheeks. “Like what?” Lorcan’s voice was broken.

“Like I was wasting my life. Did you?”

“Never.” She smiled at him, soft and unsure, but it was the first time he had seen it in six months and Hellas save him if it didn’t have him wanting to fall to his knees. Lorcan studied her face, really studied and as the illusion of finally seeing her faded, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. His heart broke, he had done this, it was his fault. “E? Are you okay?”

She inhaled deeply and silver lined her eyes. “I am so tired, L. So tired. But I can’t sleep, can’t be in this room without you. I don’t sleep anymore. And I am tired, so, so, so, tired.” The tears slipped free again and she collapsed against him, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck. He marveled about how natural it felt to have her cradled to his chest, his arms circling her tiny waist.

“I’m sorry.” Elide didn’t say anything but he knew that she believed him. The pair remained wrapped up in each other for what seemed like a lifetime until Lorcan began to shift. A panicked sound escaped her and she gripped his collar.

“What? What are you doing?” She began breathing faster and faster, tears slipping down her stunning face. “Hey, hey, hey, Elide, love, breathe with me.” He drew oxygen into his lungs slowly and Elide copied him until she sighed, calm. He smoothed a hand over her hair and she leaned into his hand. “I’m just going home. I’ll come by in the morning, ok?” This distressed Elide more.

“Please stay. Stay. Stay with me, please I need you to stay, Lor—”

“El, hey, hey, it’s alright, I’ll stay.” Lorcan stood and smoothly swung Elide into his arms. He turned and set her on the bed, tucking the blanket around her. He moved to the other side, Elide’s inky eyes, wide and wet with unfallen tears tracked him from where she was curled. He stripped his jacket and shirt off until he was clad only in his sweatpants. He flopped down on his and before he could tug her to him, she curled into his side, head over his heart and her hands resting on his rib cage. Elide sighed, suspended, in total happiness. Lorcan pressed a kiss to her head and she hummed. “I love you, L.” His heart stopped beating, it had been too long since he had heard that, too long since he had said it. “I love you too, E.” Elide smiled into his chest. She tilted her head up and looked into his eyes, full of quiet love that ruined her. “How long are you staying here?”

“Until you want me to leave.”

ayyyy i didn’t break they up! lolz i would never do that HA i would die before i let anything end elorcan :) tank u for reading my brain dumps love yall

@schmlip-scribble @myfeyrelady @kandasboi @dayanna-hatter @highqueenofelfhame @maastrash @empire-of-wildfire

#elorcan #tog #sjmaas #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #lady elide #lord lorcan lochan #elide's bitch #i would die for them #my otp is better than yours #fight me #square up

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natural--blues · 6 years ago

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Hey @megabadbunny ! I am your @dwsecretsanta! I hope you like it <3 Happy Holidays, beautiful! You did ask for some angst and fluff, so I did try to capture that. I’ll try to write a sequel for some resolution, if you’d like. ------------------------ “Off for a date with the wife?” Graham asked, cheerfully, while glancing through a newspaper from Xylon 44 (the best of all 8,000 Xylons). She had smiled, brushing off her blue button down shirt. It had flowers on it, making her think of her beloved. It was the little things that she could do during her day. She flushed a bit as she slid her leather jacket on over her shirt, adding a pair of boots that was reminiscent of her Ninth form. “Leather? S’a bit new for ya, yeah?” Ryan asked. “Wait a tick -- Wife?!” The Doctor steadily ignored the second question, ever the side-stepper. “In my Ninth body, I was a bloke from Manchester. Fresh out of the Time War. I wore my leather like armor. It’s the first time I’ve donned a leather jacket in this body.” “Did you wear it in your last?” Graham asked, casually, while Ryan and Yaz were whispering to each other about the W-word. “I did. Fancied myself a bit of a rocker. Oh... Rose gave me such a ration over that.” She chuckled a bit, adjusting her appearance in the mirror for the millionth time. “You look great. Go on, then. She’ll be knocked off her socks.” “Rose who?” “Thank you, Graham. It’s a special night, you know.” “Wife? I’m still stuck on wife. Is Rose the wife? You’re married?” Yaz chimed in. “I know it, Doc. Do you have the present?” “Hello?! Are either of you listening to us?!” Ryan demanded, waving his arms. “I do. Thank you for helping me pick it out.” “They’re ignoring us on purpose, they are.” Yaz muttered, shaking her head a bit with a raised eyebrow. “This must be good if that’s the case then” “You think?” “Oh, I know it.” “Any time, Doc. Go to her.” She walked down the hall, holding a wrapped present in her hands, chewing her lip a bit nervously. She could hear Ryan and Yaz pumping Graham for information. He caught her eye, and she shook her head. Not now. ------------------------------------------ Rose walked slowly, with her wife covering her eyes, her back against the Doctor’s chest as they were heading to a surprise. She nearly tripped, but the her wife’s grip was iron. Rose squealed, hearing the laugh from behind her. “I’ve got you, my love. We are almost there.” “We’ve been walking forever!” “Oi! Trying to surprise you, here! Thoughtful spouse, anyone?” “Haha, all right, all right, I’ll give you this one...” The Doctor came to a stop, and breathed softly against Rose’s ear, making her shiver softly. “All right, love. Go ahead and open.” Hands removed, Rose blinked a few times to get used to the light before seeing the most gorgeous garden... and one she recognised. “Oh, Doctor... Barcelona!”

“Right in the park where we got married...” She whispered. “Do you remember, love?” “I do! Jack married us... I still have the ribbon in my room from our binding.” “Yes, yes you do. Do you remember anything else?” “It was after mum... after I’d come back with the Dimension Cannon.” “That’s right, love.” The Doctor walked with her across the bridge, watching her take in all of the scenery. She smiled, loving to see the sense of wonder on her face before.... best not to think of that. Not now. “Did you set up a picnic?!” “I did. Chips and I brought you a present, too.” “You shouldn’t have! I didn’t get you anything...”

“You have, a thousand times over, when you gave me you, Rose Tyler. I mean that. I will love you for the rest of my lives. I’m so fortunate to have you.” “I’m so fortunate to be with you...” So the afternoon commenced -- peals of laughter, soft kisses, a few stories. It was mostly the Doctor describing different times to her. It was always the Doctor describing different things to her. She would do anything to keep Rose in the moment -- in the now of things. She needed to stay there. They ended up laying down on the blanket and looking at the 5 moons setting, Rose’s head on her stomach while she ran her fingers through her hair. “So then I said ‘He’s not a real captain, Rose.’ and you accused me of having Captain Envy! Me! I was offended to my very toes, I was, but mostly because you’d hit the nail right on the head there. I had severe envy... not of him being a captain, that’s ridiculous. I could be a captain if I wanted to--”

Rose began giggling, shaking the Doctor’s belly with it. “Uh huh, sure Doctor....”

“You know, some people’s wives don’t laugh so much at them.”

“Mhm. Sing me another.”

The Doctor wrinkled her nose at Rose playfully, then continued on. “I was jealous, thinking he’d caught your eye. A stream of pretty boys, and I have never really been that pretty, Rose.”

“That’s not true!” Rose sat up a bit, looking down at her love. “Not even a little bit!”

“Well, I suppose I was a bit pretty in my Tenth form, but I made such a mess of things out of being too frightened of the depths of my feelings for you. I made a total tit of myself, and messed things up so badly...” “You made mistakes. You’ve mended them, haven’t you?”

She smiled at her pink and yellow girl. “I have...”

“See? You’re doing brilliant. But I disagreed because you are pretty in every form. I’m attracted to every single form you take. Your Ninth form was unconventionally handsome, but gods... I wanted you to kiss me so badly. In that leather and those jumpers, that smile. In those specs and those plimsolls. In that bow-tie with that fez. In that suit with that guitar. In these braces with that top. I love all of you. Every you that you have been, every you that you will become.” The Doctor held her, pressing their foreheads together and just breathed in her essence. She loved her, oh how she did. Hearing that was a balm to her soul. “I love you so much, Rose Tyler. I love you everything that you can imagine, multiplied by infinity, taken into the depths of forever, and still you will have barely a glimpse of what I am talking about.” “You think you’re so impressive with all that lovey science babble!” She pouted in mock offence. “I am so impressive.”

“Prove it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The Doctor handed her the present, and as soon as she opened it, she realised it was both the best and worst decision she could have made. It was the best, because for a few moments, her darling girl’s eyes lit up into that beautiful cognac that she loved so much. For a few moments, she looked like she truly understood. She took the beautiful bracelet much like she’d taken the Yale key... with all of the love and excitement that she once exuded.

Unfortunately, all good things must end.

“Wh.... where am I?”

“Shh, Rose, darling, it’s all right...”

“Where are we?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know this place...”

“You do, precious girl. You do. You just told me where we were, I need you to stay. Stay with me, love.”

“We’re not in Barcelona. I can’t feel the breeze...”

“It was just here, love, please. Stay with me, Rose. We have to maintain a common vision...”

The world around them began to darken, and Rose wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. The Doctor tried to comfort her, but there was nothing to be done. She could only hold her, watching as things slowly disintegrated around her.

“I’m so cold...” Rose whispered, and the Doctor nodded. “Why am I so cold?” The Doctor watched for the inevitable panic to spread across Rose’s face. Once it hit, she just responded the same way she had every time, for centuries. She just spread soft kisses on her face: cheekbones, chin, lips, eyelids, eyebrows, temples. She gave as much comfort as she could.

“I... I want out. Help me. Doctor, help me! Help me!” “I am helping you. I am doing everything possible. Don’t worry. We’ll get past this...” ----------------------------------------------------

The Doctor walked back into the console room, looking quite a bit defeated. She refused to stop trying, no matter what. It would happen. It would happen with her help, or she would find something.

“I’m so sorry, Doc...” Graham whispered, opening his arms for a hug. She took it, then sniffed a bit.

“What’s going on?” Yaz spoke up, seriously concerned.

“In case you hadn’t figured it out, Fam, I’m married.” “I thought we’d decided not to go with Fa--” “Ryan!” Yaz hissed, elbowing him in the side. “Right, right. Carry on.”

“I fell in love with Rose Tyler... almost immediately. She was my soulmate. I was hers, although I was too much in my own head to realise it. I almost lost her over it. You know, she took the entire time vortex into her head to save me, once? Our first kiss. I lost her... in the original timeline. Some woman named River Song had made sure that I would lose her, so that she could have me instead.”

She grit her teeth a bit at the thought. She hated remembering.

But her Fam deserved to know.

“So my original Thirteenth body went back in time to stop Rose from being lost to Pete’s World. Created a clone of her, kept her original human form with myself and left the clone of myself and the clone of her on Pete’s World’s Bad Wolf Bay. They’re off, living a human life. Rose and I made a wish, on the Time Vortex. Made a wish, and she became a Time Lady, same as me. So we could be together forever.”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, Doctor. Why haven’t we met her?” Yaz asked, smiling softly.

Ryan frowned, looking at his granddad. “It didn’t end well, did it?”

“No, it did not. A woman from my travels... she was obsessed with me, you see. I made excuses for her behaviour for years -- terrible upbringing, losing her family, the reprogramming, the terror her mother experienced while pregnant with her... but all in all, I was just blaming myself for things that were River’s fault. She was an adult. She’d made a choice. Many adults come from terrifying means and find ways to be the exact opposite of that every single day. She chose.”

They nodded along, but they obviously didn’t fully understand, following the Doctor as she lead them down multiple hallways. “She’d created a paradox to force me to be with her. I had broken that paradox to be with Rose. In revenge, she held the Universe hostage to force me to marry her. I went along with it very begrudgingly, but my wife and I knew it was a farce. We were snarking with each other mentally the entire time. Wasn’t my first time marrying someone on an adventure without it meaning anything. Wouldn’t be the last.”

Yaz laughed a bit. “That’s great. Some spouses can talk to each other with faces, and you lot of telepaths get that.”

“Oh yes... Time Lords are touch telepaths, but when we are a bonded pair, we are telepathically connected forever. We cannot survive the death of the other, which is something that River knew. But she could keep Rose away from me while keeping her alive. If not by another universe, then by this... she injected her with a sleeping death poison. Disconnects mind from body, so the body sleeps. No known cure across too many galaxies to count. Most patients’ bodies either die of natural aging, or... they eventually remember who and where they are, and that memory snaps the connection from mind and body back into place. They become able to wake up.” “Rose wouldn’t age, though, because Time Lords don’t?” “They can, of course they can... but Rose is special. She cannot. She will never regenerate into another person. She will always look the same.” “Doc, where are we?” Graham spoke up, as they stopped in front of her door. “This is my bedroom. I’d like you all to meet my wife...” She opened the door, and the room was done in dark Tardis blues, with pinks and yellows throughout. But that was not the big thing they were looking at. They were looking at the large tube in the back of the room, holding a floating woman who was connected by multiple tubes. A feeding tube, IVs, some cables for a heart monitor, floating in what looked to be thick water. Her previously golden hair had a blue tint to it due to the lighting, swaying gently in the water. Her soft white dress looked like a classic white linen nightgown from a romance novel. The Yale key around her neck and the ring on her finger glistened gently.

She looked like a beautiful angel in a snow globe. “This is my wife... Rose Marion Tyler.” Graham looked at the Doctor. They’d bonded, because they knew how it was to lose a wife. He was jealous, at first, of how the Doctor could speak to her every single night. But he’d realised that he shouldn’t be -- the Doctor had to lose Rose again, every single night. “How long has it been? Since you.... since this?” Ryan asked in amazement. “Over a thousand years. She’ll wake up, one day. I know it in my bones.” Yaz walked up, and touched the glass. “Hello, Rose. We’re so glad to meet you. We’re new members of the Doctor’s family. That means you’re our family too. So you have to wake up, you have to meet your family soon. We adore you already.” Ryan made an affirmation to that, and Graham touched the glass as well, repeating the same. They stayed for a few respectful minutes, then the Doctor ushered them out, starting to leave. Family. “We’re gonna help you, Doctor. We’ll help you look. You tell us places that you haven’t been to look for a cure, and we’ll all go there. Let’s get your wife all better, so we can meet her.” Everyone cheered around her, and the Doctor felt tears prick her eyes. Hope. Genuine hope, for the first time in a long time. “Where should we go, Doc?” “Farther than we’ve ever gone before. I have an idea.”

#dwss #Doctor x Rose #ficandchips #thirteen x rose

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