#this was supposed to be a single short scene how did it get so long????

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple finale - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: so um ignore how long every part of this took to come out. i have no excuse. anyways we are finally here at the end!! almost 10k words of proper regency soap opera type shit and it all ends happily i promise. i hope u enjoy because damn this was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up being over 40k lmao

wc: 9k

warning(s): angst, reader is a lil insecure, slightly steamy make out scene, happy ending<333

You’d never been this restless before. 

Your dreams had a part to play in it. They insisted on tormenting you, though not in the usual way. 

No, these dreams would have been pleasant had they come any sooner. For Anthony Bridgerton appeared in near every single one, with his charming smile and soft eyes and hair you always desired to run your fingers through. 

He would smile at you, offer his arm and walk with you all around the park and the city as you talked for hours. He would compliment you, and you would compliment him, and he would court you as a perfect gentleman would. 

He would kiss you, ravenously so. His hands would touch you where no one had touched before, leaving trails of fire in their wake, would unearth feelings you never could have imagined. He would revere you, near worship you, because in this world you never made such ill-advised choices. In this world, you never dragged him into a worthless scheme that ended with a ruined reputation and a broken heart.  

In this world, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and you never did a single thing to make him doubt that. 

But you were not there. 

You were here, in the real world. Where you were in the midst of reaping what you spent a whole season sowing. 

You were roused from that less than peaceful attempt at sleep—though thoughts of Anthony took longer to disappear—by the opening of your door, and despite your visitor attempting to be quiet, you found your eyes fluttering open against your will.

“Oh, dearest,” your mother lamented, “I did not mean to wake you. I apologize; I merely wanted to check on you. I will return later—please, rest.”

“No,” you murmured, and you rubbed your eyes as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Small movements were much easier, which at least meant a step in the right direction. “No, stay. Please.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. When you nodded, she closed the door lightly behind her and sat on your bedside, laying her hand over yours. 

She whispered your name, her voice already thick with tears that she was trying to hide. “I am so glad you are alright.” 

“You say that every time you come in here,” you said.

“And I will continue to say it.” She shook her head. “You nearly perished. You should consider yourself lucky I am not in here at all hours of the day.” 

You managed a smile, and she sighed. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you said. “I am still sore, but much better.”

“Good,” she said. “All I can ask is that you continue to get better.” 

“The rest has certainly been nice,” you said. “Am I still a true lady despite my late wakings?” 

“You have always been a true lady,” your mother assured with a slight smile. 

“I believe you may be the only one that still thinks so.” 

“If you are feeling ready, there is a ball in a fortnight,” she said. “It could be a good way to garner good will again.” You gave her a look, and she held up her hands. “I understand how you feel, but your presence is important. There are… rumors floating about, and we must lay them to rest.” 

“Rumors,” you muttered wryly. “That your daughter is an ungrateful wench and will die a spinster?” 

She said your name sternly, and you shook your head. “I read what Whistledown wrote about me—she’s likely written a hundred more. I do not care what any of them think of me, Mother. I am only sorry for the pain it has caused you and Father, and the Bridgertons.” 

“The Bridgerton name is strong enough to weather scandal,” she said. “We have to work a bit harder. And making an appearance in society again, especially with Lord Cardew by your side, will help.” 

You suppressed a scoff at the mere thought of him. You’d been granted such a reprieve from Lord Cardew because of Anthony’s influence, and while you were recovering, no one but family was to see you. But soon—very soon—he would be your entire life. 

“That brings up another question,” your mother said wryly, and when you met her eyes she was giving you a very pointed look. “Are you still sure about this?” 

No, you wanted to say. You couldn’t be less sure about Jonathan Cardew. But you’d dragged your family into this mess of yours, so it was your duty to fix it. 

Plenty of women married much more dreadful men every year. You should have considered yourself lucky that a man of his breeding, of his standing was interested in you at all—especially after the season you’d spent distancing yourself from him and the scandal you’d caused. 

“...Yes,” you finally said. “I am sure.”

Your mother sighed and said your name. “You are sure? You have not reached out to Anth—” 

“There is nothing left between us,” you interrupted. “I know it is not the best situation, and I know it is my fault, but I am making the best of it. All I ask is that you support me. It is hard enough attempting to make my way through this world—I need my mother to be there for me rather than constantly pushing against it all.”

“...Of course,” she said quietly. “And I am so sorry that I have ever done differently. My dear, all I ask in return is that you understand me, as well as the decisions I make. All I want is the best for you, and I know that marriage is not what you desire, but there are things we must do.” 

“Of course,” you said, and your echoing words spurned a small smile from her. “I am sorry that I have always fought you so much. All I could see was my hatred for any kind of union, but all I managed was hurting you and Father, as well as myself, and— and I cannot think of any apology that will be enough.” You shook your head with a mirthless laugh. “I’ve no idea how you put up with me for so long, truly.” 

“I’ve never had to put up with you,” she said. “I realize I may not have done the best job at showing it, but— but I love you more than anything in this world. Everything I have ever done has been for you, my darling. You are the future of our name, and I know you will do an excellent job at carrying on our legacy.” 

“Truly?” you asked softly. 

Your mother nodded as she took your hands and smiled at you. “Truly. Nothing in this world can change my love for you. You are our greatest accomplishment.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat as you smiled as well, and you pulled your mother into a hug. She reciprocated, and tears filled your eyes. You’d missed the comfort of her presence so dearly. 

“I love you too,” you whispered. 

-

“Are you alright, my lady?” 

Your lady’s maid's words snapped you out of the stupor you’d found yourself in, and it was all you could do to attempt a smile. 

“Yes, Julia,” you said. “Quite alright.” 

Her brows furrowed as she draped a pendant around your neck, the cold metal turning your exhale slightly shaky. “Pardon my plainness, my lady, but you are not believable in the slightest.” 

“You have been around me for far too long,” you said dryly. “I request another maid, one that cannot read me so easily.” 

Julia offered a wry smile. “You are stuck with me for now, my lady. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?” 

You stared yourself in the mirror as you turned the question over. It was not as easy to answer as it should have been, not when everything was so out of order. Not when you hardly recognized the reflection staring back at you, wrapped in orange silk and adorned in jewels courtesy of Lord Cardew. 

You were not yourself—you were to be Baron Jonathan Cardew’s wife, a baroness and status symbol to hang off his arm and smile prettily, and Baroness Cardew was who stared back at you. 

Only a few more balls remained until the season came to an end, and though Lord Cardew was doing your family an immense service by giving you a second chance, he did not want to wait much longer to make it official. 

It was all planned out. Your relationship would truly enter the public eye tonight with your dances, you would promenade in open parks to have as many eyes on you as possible. He would call on you and your meager staff would be encouraged to spread rumors. Another ball would pass together, enough to hopefully weather some of the scandal you’d created, and then…

Then, he would propose. 

You would accept. 

And the fate you’d been so intent on avoiding would be sealed. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the impending tears. 

“I am nervous,” you admitted. “My decision didn’t exactly feel… real. Not until I was standing at the modiste getting fitted for this gown with one of Cardew’s maids. And all this jewelry…” Your fingers trailed across the raised designs on the pendant. “It makes it even more so.” 

“I can only imagine,” Julia said. “He has certainly put in effort.” 

“And yet it all feels hollow.” You moved away from the mirror and stopped in front of your vanity. The light blue reticule sitting near your jewelry box felt as if it was mocking you. 

Julia said your name with a sigh. “You made your choice. You pushed him away.” 

“I know,” you murmured, tracing the embroidery with your finger. “But feelings do not disappear so quickly.” 

“He wrote letters,” she said. “After you moved from Bridgerton House to recover here, after I refused his calling on you for the hundredth time, he wrote letters and delivered them by hand.” 

You picked at a loose strand of white thread on the purse, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might crack. 

“He told me he did not care if you didn’t want them,” Julia continued softly. “He just needed you to know how he felt.” 

“This is how it has to be,” you finally said, voice shaking. 

“And what makes you think that?” Julia challenged. “You believe you have to live a life of misery simply because half the ton does so in the name of reputation and riches?” 

“Two things I no longer have any of,” you murmured. “Cardew’s pedigree is enough to get both back for my family. It is my duty, Jules, and I can no longer hide from it.” 

Your lady’s maid looked at you with desperation in her eyes when there was a knock on the door followed by your mother calling your name. You nodded your permission and she opened it.

“Lady Worthing,” she said, curtsying just so to your mother. “I’ve finished getting her ready—I’ll give the two of you some time alone.” 

“Thank you, Julia,” your mother said with a smile. She turned back to you, her eyes softer than ever as she moved forward and set her hands on your shoulders. 

“My darling,” she said, “you look so beautiful. I did not lie when I called you the crown jewel of our family.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Thank you, Mother. I’m glad I can make you proud.” 

She murmured your name, turning you so you faced the mirror. You saw yourself more this time, feeling more assured with your mother standing behind you holding all the stars in her eyes. 

“I have always been proud of you, darling,” she murmured. “Even if I did not show it in the best way. I love you more than words can express. I meant it when I said you are our greatest achievement.” 

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against her. She allowed you to sink into her and you felt the tears brimming in your eyes. 

“...I’m afraid, Mother,” you whispered. “To marry. To be a wife.” 

She was silent for a moment, busying herself with adjusting your jewelry before she spoke.

“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I hardly knew your father outside of a few promenades, and one lovely bouquet of flowers. It was almost fully arranged by our parents. But when he proposed, he vowed to always be my friend, and to always take care of me.” 

“Has he?” you asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “We did not love each other on our wedding day. But he has always been kind to me, and he has always advocated for me, and we have always been there for each other. We love each other now, in our own way. And,” she smiled, smoothing down the lace on your sleeves, “together, we brought you into the world. I would do it all over again if it meant I would get you in the end.” 

You could not imagine considering Lord Cardew a friend, nor the opposite. He saw you as just another pretty jewel to adorn himself with. 

Anthony saw you as a friend— as more. He always listened to what you had to say, always entertained your jokes with some of us own, never talked down on you. He saw you as an equal. 

 “I do not know if any woman is prepared to marry,” she finally said. “Even those that marry for love still have initial doubts. There are so many expectations of our behavior when we are told so little of what we must actually do.” 

“How do you do it?” you asked. “You married a man you didn’t know. You raised a child. You held face against a society that shamed you for only having a daughter.” 

“All you can do is trust in yourself, and in those around you,” she said. “If you are with the right person, everything will feel as natural as breathing. You will not care what anything thinks of you, because there is only one opinion that matters.” 

There was one man you felt natural around, one who you felt you could speak your mind around and not be judged. One man that you’d fallen in love with, that surely hated you in return for what you’d done to him. 

Your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What should I do, Mother?” 

“You know what you must do,” she said softly. “All I can do is support you.” 

-

You’d rubbed your palms on your dress at least fifteen times since you’d arrived. A fruitless effort, considering you were wearing gloves, but you could not stand still. 

Your conversation with Lord Cardew had taken everything out of you, your dance with him even more so—an especially damning fate seemed ahead of you. But you could tune him out well enough, at least. 

It was an entirely different deal when the Bridgertons showed up. 

Violet walked in arm and arm with Anthony and Benedict, and Colin had a loose hold on Eloise. And to make matters worse, Daphne Bridgerton, alongside her husband the Duke of Hastings, were making an appearance. What an honor, to have the chance to embarrass yourself in front of such highly ranking nobles. 

Eloise branched off immediately after they passed the threshold, much to the protests of her mother, but your mother immediately pulled you in their direction. You could only imagine her thoughts—if she could get the Duke of Hastings touting for the Worthings, that would make things much easier.  

Anything for the optics, you supposed. But when you met Anthony’s eyes for the first time, you had to avert your gaze. He just looked so damn sad. 

“It is good to see you again, Violet,” your mother said. “And it is an honor, Duke and Duchess Hastings.” The both of you curtsied, and you could see the Duke’s slight smile. 

“I consider it my honor to meet the woman who has been the center of such conversation this season,” he said. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and thankfully Violet stepped in. 

“It is good to see you as well, Cecilia.” Violet smiled as she looked at you. “Especially you, my dear.” 

You bowed your head. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, Duke Hastings. I am grateful to be here.” 

Benedict smiled, the notion warmer than anything you deserved. “You look lovely, Miss Worthing. Especially for someone who escaped death with such recency.”

Anthony’s eyes remained on you the entire time, and more than anything you wished you could read this mind. The man probably hated you, and he had every right to do so. You just wished your feelings for him weren’t so insurmountable. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled as believably as you could. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton. You also look well.”

Your mother nudged your shoulder and your gaze met Anthony’s once more. He still hadn’t looked away from you. 

You bowed your head once more. “Lord Bridgerton. It… is good to see you.”

No wonder you actually ended up falling in love with Anthony. It was the only way anyone could believe this ruse—you were quite an awful actress. 

Anthony lowered his head as well, his poise stiff. “A pleasure, Miss Worthing.”

“We’re glad to see you’re doing well,” Violet said, her smile a bit thin. You could only imagine the conversation that would occur between her and your mother later. “You caused us all quite a scare.”

“Oh, Anthony was so worried,” Daphne said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m thankful we have the chance to attend this ball so I could see you in person.” 

“I’ve recovered well,” you nodded, and you looked at Violet. “My family and I thank you immensely for your kindness and your doctor’s care. We’ll be in your debt endlessly.”

“There is no need for that,” Violet said. “It is enough that you are still here.”

Your cheeks burned but you tried to smile anyways. You wanted to burrow into a hole and never come out. It seemed the Bridgertons were capable of endless grace in public when they surely had to despise you. 

“Eloise has run off somewhere over near the strings,” Benedict provided in the silence. “I’m sure she would appreciate your companionship tonight.”

You glanced at your mother and she nodded, and your smile at Benedict was much more genuine. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to talk with her.” 

You mouthed thank you to him when your mother could not see, and he nodded. He’d always been so decent to you. 

You could not help but glance at Anthony as you went, and his gaze followed you. He would resent you if he had any sense, but it seemed the opposite—the sadness in his eyes was fatal.

You took a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table when you passed it, needing something to do with your hands. You found your way to Eloise’s side soon enough, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

“It is so good to see you,” she breathed. “I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve already had to fend off suitors. They just cannot seem to understand I hold such little care for them.” 

“I am just as glad to see you,” you admitted. “I do not think I can get through this night alone.” 

“I cannot imagine why,” Eloise said sarcastically. “I’ve heard the news. And I must say, it is your poorest decision this season.”

Your laugh was mostly out of surprise, and you nearly dropped the flute of lemonade you were holding. You were on edge far more than you expected—you almost wished your glass was full of champagne. 

“At least somebody is speaking plainly,” you murmured, your gaze distant and unfocused. “I think the rest of your family must hate me, but they’re all too kind to say it.” 

Eloise frowned. “Why would any of them hate you?” 

Your grip tightened on your glass. “Because I caused an immense scandal and then ended things with Anthony?”

She huffed a laugh, her eyebrows now rising. “Our family has weathered many a scandal, and we are still here. Or have you forgotten how Daphne’s dearest husband chose to court her?”  

“That is different,” you insisted. 

“I think it is worse, actually,” Eloise said plainly. “Simon is a duke, and Anthony nearly killed him before Daphne knocked some sense into him.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Truly, it was a disaster. We Bridgertons have a knack for them.” 

“As do I,” you said with a loose laugh. “I was stabbed, Eloise. I nearly died in your brother’s arms.” 

“And we nearly died in our drawing room,” she said. “Anthony, most of all. He cares for you immensely.” 

“Surely he cannot,” you insisted. “Not after what I’ve done.” 

“I am not blind,” Eloise said, “and neither are you. So do not demerit our intelligence and pretend as if you do not see it.” 

“I— I know.” You wrapped your arms around your midsection, and you grimaced as the jewelry on your wrists brushed against your skin. You were covered head to toe in finery that didn’t belong to you, and you itched from the inside out. “But I don’t know where to go from here.” 

“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Eloise looked across the room, where Lord Cardew stood talking to your mother, and then over at her brother, who couldn’t have been less interested in the lady trying to strike up conversation with him. Then her gaze fell to you. “You’ve got a choice to make.” 

“I’ve already ruined things,” you murmured. “I— I can’t just back out of this.”

“I can tell you that you certainly haven’t ruined things with my brother. And Lady Whistledown’s speculation is the only thing binding you to that lecher.” Eloise shrugged. “You’ve already broken off one courtship. What’s another?”

Your eyes met Anthony’s from across the room. Once again, he’d already been looking at you. You averted your gaze quickly, feeling the heat rush to your face, and you tried to steady your breathing. He had no right to still have such an effect on you. 

“I need some air,” you murmured. “Will you—”

“Of course,” Eloise said. “You are simply touching things up in the powder room.”

You nodded your thanks and slipped out of the ballroom, finally able to drop the facade you’d been trying to uphold. You truly felt as if you were overheating, and the cool air was hardly of aid once you reached the outdoors.

Everything was all wrong—your dress, this damned tiara, the bracelets and the necklaces and every jewel that Cardew thought he could buy you with. 

It all belonged to him. You would not be another prize on his shelf. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You began to shed the jewelry as your pace sped up, ripping bangles from your wrists and pendants from your neck—by the time you reached a deserted area of the gardens, you were considerably lighter and considerably close to tears. 

You let out a frustrated sob as you slammed your fists against some artistic stone structure. It earned you nothing but pain, but it grounded you in some strange way. You tore off your gloves and threw them to the ground, a shaky breath escaping you as you screwed your eyes shut and  pressed your palms to your forehead. 

You could not marry traditionally, you could not follow through with your feelings for Anthony, and now you could not follow through with this ill-advised plan. 

Were you truly this useless? To bring ruin to two families with your knack for destroying things for it all to amount to nothing? You waxed poetic about the life you thought you deserved to live, about going to university and gaining your independence and never marrying, and yet here you were, near tears in the gardens of the ball you were meant to reenter society at. 

“Miss Worthing.”

The whispered words blared through the silence, and you knew who it was without having to turn around. It still sent a shock through you, your breathing faltering for a moment. Your eyes stayed shut. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice watery. 

“You do not know me if you think there is anywhere else I would be,” he said. 

“How did you find me?”

“I followed the trail of jewels. You’ve left an awfully expensive path in your wake.”

“All of it is worthless,” you mumbled, finally letting your hands drop. “It all belongs to Lord Cardew.”

“You’ll have made a magpie very happy.” 

“Enough with the jokes,” you said. “Why are you here?” 

“Why do you think?” Anthony asked with a slight laugh. 

“I do not know,” you responded. “That is why I asked.” 

“I am here because I want to talk to you,” he said. “You cannot just avoid me for the rest of the season.”

You turned away. “I can try.”

“I will not let you,” Anthony enunciated. “I will not let you make the biggest mistake of your life because you believe it is your duty.”

“If you are here to change my mind, you are wasting your time,” you said stiffly. 

“I don’t believe I have to do anything,” Anthony said. “It looks as if you’ve come to the conclusion yourself.” 

“And what makes you think that?”

“You have not even glanced in Cardew’s direction this entire night,” he said. “You’ve been looking at me instead.” 

“Because I have felt your eyes on me with every moment.” 

Anthony huffed. “Can you blame me? This is the first time I have seen you since that night.” 

“Then you should remember my words from that night,” you bit out. 

“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” Anthony begged. 

You scoffed. “Why are you so intent on bothering me?”

“Because I cannot stand here and watch you marry another!” he exclaimed.

Your brows furrowed and you turned around. Anthony stood in front of you, his outfit impeccable but not at all looking put together. Desperation colored his eyes, and you saw how truly undone he’d become. 

“I— I thought I could, but I cannot.” He shook his head, a muscle working in his jaw as he glanced away. “Every moment you are in the vicinity of that man is a test of my strength. And I do not know how strong I am.” 

“I don’t understand,” you said hollowly. “You should hate me.” 

“I could never hate you,” Anthony murmured. “I thought I could, when you first told me of your plans, but— but I could hardly even dislike you.” A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “My mother had been bothering me for nearly a decade to find a wife and settle down, but I thought love was a fool’s game. I would have my fun as a bachelor, and then settle down with the most advantageous match. There was no need for further emotional baggage—when you love, you can lose. And I refused to lose again.” 

For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. He lost his father, he nearly lost you, and then you pushed him away like he meant nothing. 

“Anthony—” you whispered, but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said. “I have a lot to say.” 

You nodded, and he did as well. 

“Our deal was perfect for that. You were nothing but my sister’s nuisance of a friend—a bad influence that I could never see as more.” You could not help your soft laugh, and Anthony’s smile turned a bit more genuine. 

“But then we spent more time together. I… truly began to know you.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You shattered every preconception I had of you. I began to look forward to our meetings, to our promenades—I would get home from calling on you and could think only of the next time I would see you.” 

“Throughout it all, you made me realize I was worthy of love,” he said. “You— you made me realize that I wanted it. That I wanted you.” His throat bobbed, and you could see his eyes glistening. “That I loved you.” 

You could hardly find the strength to speak. You felt as if you could melt into a puddle at his feet just from his words. You were so intent on avoiding Anthony because you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him anymore— you believed he would be better off without you, without the scandal you’d dragged him into. 

But he… he loved you. 

He loved you just as you loved him. 

“I do not expect you to share any of my notions, and I know you value your freedom more than anything,” Anthony murmured. “So if it is not me you wish to be with, I understand, and I will accept it without complaint. I just beg of you—do not become that wretched man’s wife.” 

All you could do was stare at him for a moment more, words beyond your reach before you finally managed to speak through your emotions. 

“I tried to tell myself the exact same thing,” you said softly. “That you could not be happy with me. That I could never be happy chained to another—truly, that I could never love. Not when freedom is what I have always desired most. But Anthony…” you moved forward until you were mere centimeters apart, unable to suppress the shiver that ran through you at the proximity, “I have never felt more free than when I am with you.” 

“Miss—” Anthony started, but he paused and shook his head before saying your first name instead. His eyes were softer than anything. “Are you truly…?” 

“I could never fathom you sharing my feelings,” you said thickly. “That is why I pushed you away. But I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I think I have loved you for quite some time.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, turning away so as to not betray the fullness of your emotions, and though you opened your mouth to provide some excuse, you were not granted the chance. 

Anthony’s hand encircled your wrist, pulling you back around, and just as soon did you feel his lips against yours. The tightness in your chest dissolved almost immediately as you all but fell into him, Anthony wrapping his arms around you to support you as your hands found purchase on anything they could. 

Your focus became devoted solely to the feeling of him, his soft lips against yours even as they plied for access. Anthony held you as if his only desire were to protect you from the world, and it made you feel a way you’d never even imagined. Only when air became a necessity did he pull away, his labored breaths in contrast to the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Never in a thousand years did I think you would feel the same,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face on either side as he gazed into your eyes. “I thought myself a fool, falling for the one woman I could not have. You’ve no idea the relief it brings to hear you share my feelings.”

“I suppose I am just as foolish as you,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it could burst. 

The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile. “I cannot imagine what my mother would think—that after so long spent searching for a wife, I fell for the one woman who never wanted the title.” 

You let out an airy laugh, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours. “Nor did I see myself falling for the one man who resented the chains of marriage as much as I.” 

Anthony pressed his lips against yours once more, and your hands traveled up until they tangled in his hair. You kissed until you were nearly breathless, but Anthony still managed to pull a very unladylike sound out of you as he bowed his head, kissing down the line of your jaw, your neck, until his teeth nipped your skin just above your decolletage.

“Anthony,” you gasped, clenching your fingers as they buried themselves further into his dark locks. You had never been this close with a man before, never this intimate — you never thought you would even desire it. 

But Anthony lit a fire inside of you that only he could quench, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was stoke it further. It was equally maddening and dizzying, the control he so effortlessly had over you. 

“I never knew how much I would delight in hearing you say my name,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your skin. “No more Lord Bridgerton, I beg of you.”

“I should think I’d like to hear you beg—” you breathed, but Anthony cut you off yet again as he pulled you into another searing kiss. You could hardly stand it anymore as your hands fell down to his shoulders, and you pulled away for just a moment as you began desperately undoing his waistcoat, Anthony taking the hint and removing his jacket. 

“These buttons were not designed with the needs of a lady in mind,” you huffed in frustration, fumbling fingers failing to make progress, and Anthony chuckled breathlessly.

“Have we finally found something I best you in?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Just take it off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

You groaned as you looked at him. “If you insist on teasing me this way, Lord Bridgerton, I shall go back inside and act as if nothing has happened.”

“There is no need for idle threats,” he defended, and you bit back your smile. Anthony made deft work of his waistcoat, and the second he tossed it aside he was back on you. 

“Besides,” his voice was a whisper a millimeter from your ear, and warmth blazed in your core, “I believe I told you to call me Anthony.”

“And I believe you should have to try harder than that.” You smiled into his kiss as you trailed your nails down his back, the thin fabric of his dress shirt doing little as you felt his involuntary shiver. 

“You’ve no idea the effect you have on me,” he groaned, once again dipping his head as he peppered even more kisses down your neck, sliding down the sleeve of your dress to allow himself better access. 

The night air on your newly freed skin did little for you, any coolness of the breeze instantly negated by the heat of Anthony against you. Your nails dug into his back as he moved down, each spot where his lips touched your skin erupting with fire. 

You gasped out his name, barely able to handle it—the feeling was so foreign yet familiar, as if you had been waiting all your life for Anthony in this way. 

You could hardly believe you nearly lost it of your own accord. 

“It appears I do not have to try hard at all,” he said, “the way you cry out for me.” 

You laughed breathlessly, though his words were indeed true. You knew, in this moment, that you would do anything for Anthony Bridgerton—and he would do anything for you. “How I fell for a man as irritating as you, I haven’t the slightest.” 

You caught the slightest glimpse of his grin before he ducked his head yet again, and he had only just begun pushing both sleeves of your dress down when a woman’s voice could be heard behind you. 

“Anthony— oh!” 

The unfamiliar voice struck fear into your heart you had never felt the likes of before. Anthony moved away from you quicker than you’d ever seen, you just as hasty as you tugged the sleeves of your dress back to where they belonged and attempted to smooth out everything that Anthony had so easily sullied. 

You’d never imagined this was how your reputation would be ruined, with Anthony Bridgerton in the gardens of some ball, but when you finally had the sense to look and see who had caught you in a most uncompromising position, you could hardly stifle your incredulous laugh. 

“Sister?” Anthony questioned in disbelief, so many emotions warring on his face you had to turn away to cover up your growing grin. 

“Anthony,” Daphne greeted in kind, fighting to conceal her smile as her eyes drifted to you. “Miss Worthing.” 

“Your Grace!” Your shaky fingers were hardly of use to you as you pulled your gloves back up to where they belonged and once again ran your hands down the skirt of your dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Your cheeks burned under her gaze and you were innately aware of the fire underneath your skin brought about by Anthony’s touch in contrast to the cool night air. “What brings you here?” 

“Mother was quite… nervous about tonight,” she explained. “She indulged in one too many glasses of champagne, so she is taking her leave with Benedict for aid. She requested I find you to alert you of her departure, but it seems she was not the one whose disappearance should have been questioned.” 

“I’m sure you know this is quite compromising.” Thinly veiled amusement crossed Daphne’s face as she eyed you pointedly. “I am afraid you must marry him at once Miss Worthing, else I shall have to duel you to protect my brother’s honor.” 

You laughed breathlessly as Anthony looked up at the sky, his face turning a deeper shade of red than you had ever seen. “Your Grace, are you suggesting that I have ruined him?” 

“Indeed I am,” she confirmed, and you could see how it took every muscle of her being to retain a serious image. “This is not a light matter, miss. I do not understand why you are laughing.” 

“Daphne,” Anthony groaned, avoiding her eyes as he occupied himself with his jacket. “Why do you insist on being a nuisance?” 

“Anthony,” she inflected his name the same way he did hers, “I cannot have this woman sullying your name! I know it was of no will of your own, but this can not stand as is. But do not worry; I am prepared to defend your honor to my last breath.” 

“My sincerest apologies for what I have done, Duchess Hastings,” you responded gravely. “I am prepared for pistols at dawn.” 

Anthony huffed as he buttoned his waistcoat back up then went to retrieve his jacket from the bushes. “You exaggerate, the both of you. This cannot be what I was like last season.” 

“You were worse, brother. But do not worry,” Daphne said with a grin, “I should think a taste of your own practices is only fair after all you put Simon and me through.”

Anthony sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “I… suppose… that it is what I deserve.” 

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I only wish we had a witness just so your confession is forever remembered.”

“I wish Mother had not sent you to seek me out,” he responded dryly. 

You and Daphne exchanged smiles with each other before your expression sobered slightly. “ I ask quite a bit of you with this, Your Grace, but… may I count on your discretion? I know we jest, but my reputation truly could not handle something like this. I do not know if…” you glanced at Anthony before looking back to her, “if we are yet ready to seal our union.” 

“Of course,” Daphne nodded, and a relieved smile tugged at your lips. “I shall not tell a soul.” 

“Thank you eternally, Your Grace,” you expressed, but at your short curtsy she shook her head.

“Please, call me Daphne.” She offered a smile of her own, slightly coy. “After what I have just witnessed, I’ve no doubt you will be joining our family soon enough.” 

“Sister!” Anthony scolded, and when you glanced at him his entire face was dusted pink, even the tips of his ears. It was enough to make you swoon. “You cannot just say things whenever you see fit.” 

Daphne merely shrugged, joyfully indifferent to her brother’s protests. “I outrank you now, dearest brother — I believe I can say whatever I see fit, particularly when it is the truth.”

“You are truly impossible,” Anthony muttered as he shook his head. 

Daphne just smiled before she looked back at you. “I believe it best if the two of you leave at separate times, so as to not allow room for any rumors. Miss Worthing, you should go first and return to your mother; you can claim you simply needed fresh air. Anthony and I will stroll around the grounds for a bit before allowing ourselves to be seen — we are simply catching up after such a stretch spent at Clyvedon.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smoothed your mussed hair and wrinkled dress for the last time. Anthony certainly did a number on you, in more ways than one. “Thank you again, Your—” you caught yourself, correcting your error with a small smile, “Daphne. 

“You may count on me in the future whenever I am in London,” she reassured. “It is my hope anyway that I shall be able to welcome you to the family officially.”

“Daphne!” Anthony exclaimed yet again, glaring at her. “Might you take your leave so we may have a moment alone?” 

“I believe you just had quite a few moments alone,” Daphne said, but a pointed look from her brother had her conceding with a smile. “Alright. I will be by the trees when you need me.” 

Anthony turned to you with an odd look in his eyes when Daphne was out of hearing distance, and when he did eventually speak, his voice was far softer than usual. 

“Do you truly believe I would not marry you?” he asked, and the underlying hurt in his voice did not go unnoticed. “Even if there were not the risk of a scandal, I would not hesitate. My entire heart lies with you.”

“It is not you, Anthony,” you sighed with a slight shake of your head. “I do not… I do not know if I am even capable of marriage.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I have spent my entire life running from it,” you said, chuckling softly, “and yet, here I am, the one thing I never thought I would be.”

“In love,” Anthony realized, and you nodded. 

“It has always been easy enough to denounce marriage when I’d never experienced anything of the like. The union of my parents was for convenience rather than love, and for as long as I’ve been alive my mother has tried to drill it into my head that my feelings did not matter — so long as the man had the means to provide for me and was not completely awful, he was satisfactory.”

“A future like that— it was so completely absurd to me that denouncing it all was the easiest thing in the world. And then I nearly died and my entire world changed, and I decided that Cardew was the best option to allow myself to completely separate emotion from marriage, but now…” you looked at Anthony, feeling more vulnerable now than ever. “I have found a love in you I’ve never thought possible, and I cannot stop imagining a life with you. And that terrifies me more than anything.” 

“But…” you trailed off again and you turned away from him as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “But I do not know how to approach my future, especially one where we are so closely intertwined.” 

Silence hung in the air for a noticeable period before Anthony cleared his throat, and it was obvious the care he put into his words. 

“You know I never imagined I would marry for love. Truly, I never intended it—I expected to be miserable in marriage. I saw it as nothing more than another duty to take care of. I believed that love was trivial, a ridiculous distraction. You are the one who made me see differently.” 

You turned around with slightly wide eyes, your arms wrapped around your midsection doing little to ward off the cool night air that seemed far colder than it was before. Anthony’s gaze never left yours, the softness in his own at odds with the pure, unbridled passion. 

“I love you. Though I have only just allowed myself to accept the fact, you are someone that I cannot imagine living the rest of my days without. There was…” his throat bobbed as his voice crackled slightly, “there was a moment when I feared the worst, that you would permanently disappear from my life. And ever since you were all but brought back from the dead, I have known that you are the only woman I wish to be with. It is why as soon as I left you, I asked my mother for this.” 

Anthony took a box out of his pocket, and you gasped as he got down on one knee, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 

“This is the ring my father proposed to my mother with, and their love was beyond anything I have seen before. But it is the love that I feel for you, something so strong, so overwhelming— something I never thought I would experience. And yet here I am, madly in love with the one woman who scorned me with every word, and only pursued me because of my brand as a lesser evil.” 

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound slightly muffled through your gloves, and you could not help it as your eyes began to fill with tears. 

“I admire you; all of you. The part that loves her family with every part of her being, that looks out for those with less than her when those more fortunate turn a blind eye. The part that fights for the rights of her sex when it is so much easier to just bow one’s head, that puts her happiness on a rightful pedestal— the part that is so terrified to share herself with others and yet deserves a love of the purest form.”

“And I am aware of how the unknown is a fear of yours, as it is one of mine. But I assure you—” Anthony’s voice was filled with such passion, his eyes with such love, that you could hardly stand it, “—I will be there for you every step of the way. We will face our fears as one, and we will shape the future ourselves, not to be bound by anyone or anything.” 

“I do not know where my future will lead me, but I know I do not want to face a single second of it without you. If you do not feel the same, I understand, but I will not be able to live with myself if I do not at least try. It is why I ask you,” Anthony said your name with more love than ever before, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, a smile breaking across your face even as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”

Anthony let out a sigh of relief as he grinned, and after he slid the ring on your finger he stood up and pulled you into a breathless kiss. Nothing picture perfect like you’d heard about as a young girl, the kind of effortless gentleman’s act— Anthony kissed you with pure passion, love, desire, and it nearly brought you to your knees. You thought it would have, were it not for Anthony’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him and supporting you. 

You could hardly believe the same man who treated you as if you were glass after your injury was the one standing before you now, the one who handled you in such a way that could get the both of you exiled were anyone to see—the one that you thought hated you.  

And you were more than willing to allow it to continue, to surrender yourself fully to your baser instincts, when you remembered something that made your eyes widen.

“Your sister,” you murmured between kisses until you finally managed to pull away, albeit reluctantly. “Daphne is still waiting.”

Anthony laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back in, and your earlier protest was shown to be completely nonsensical. “Let her wait.” 

You grinned as he peppered kisses down your neck, enjoying the sensation until you pushed him away. “Anthony.” 

He groaned. “Why must you be a better person than I?”

“Believe when I say it pains me,” you said. “But the last thing we need is yet another scandal by my hand.” 

“Let them know,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Let all of London know that I love you, that we will be wed. I do not care what we have to face so long as we face it together.” 

“The thought has never been so tempting,” you murmured. “But you should at least alert your sister. It would be improper to make her wait out here all night for nothing.” 

His grip tightened on your hands. “So you do wish to leave together?” 

“Anthony, I just accepted your proposal,” you said with a laugh. “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together.” 

“I believe tonight is a good place to start, then,” he grinned. 

Anthony would not let you leave his side, so you went to Daphne together. First she saw your smile, then her gaze drifted down to your hand—she looked knowingly at her brother, though she could not hide her smile either. 

“It would appear as if I was right,” she mused. “I am always right when it comes to you though, Anthony, so it is not much of a surprise.” 

“Do not mock me,” Anthony said. “I could have left you waiting by the bushes all night.” 

“If you had not proposed to her after the conversation we had the other day, I would have questioned your sense,” Daphne said. “Trust me, I would not have been here long.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “What conversation?” 

“We do not need to start on this,” he said with a pointed look at his sister. “I have already bared my entire soul tonight. I do not need my sister embarrassing me further.” 

“Oh, I would never,” Daphne drawled. “After all, there will be plenty of time for us to gossip together when I come to visit you all.” 

“Won’t you be busy with your child?” Anthony asked. 

She shrugged. “You may be busy with one as well by the time I see you again.” 

You looked at Anthony only to find his gaze was already on you. There must have been some shred of doubt in your eyes, because he only took your hand in his. 

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “We will take things as slowly as you desire.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and nodded as you squeezed his hands—you knew what was expected of you as a wife, and you wanted it with Anthony, but you could not lie and say that his reassurances did not bring you relief. 

“My best wishes to the new Viscountess Bridgerton,” Daphne said, her voice full of affection as she clasped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you join our family.” 

“It is an honor to be accepted,” you said, bowing your head. 

Daphne smiled. “I assume you want to reveal this on your own terms.” 

You nodded. “I’ve dealt with enough attention from the ton lately.” 

“I am afraid to say that will not go away,” she said wryly. “But I will cover for the two of you.” 

You pressed a hand to your chest. “Thank you.” 

“It is only proper to welcome my sister in such a way,” she said with a wink, and you could not help but smile. “Now run along, you two. Before rumors start.” 

Anthony chuckled, and the two of them embraced before you started on your way.

“Viscountess Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured in your ear. “I love the sound of that.” 

You hummed in agreement. “As do I.” 

You laid your head on Anthony’s shoulder as you walked back with your hands intertwined—not to the ball, but to a carriage for the promise of time alone. You glanced over at Anthony and he smiled, and you pulled him to a stop as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded with hunger, the same vigor he displayed when you first stepped into the gardens together, and you could hardly believe he still had it left in him. 

Far too many minutes passed as you kissed and kissed and kissed, not a single care in the world of someone catching you. What could they do? You’d already endured enough scandal to weather anything, and there was no way to punish you and Anthony — you were already engaged. 

Your lips were sure to be bruised once you finally pulled away, Anthony gazing at you with complete adoration as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my wife,” he murmured. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my husband,” you breathed. “When will we reveal it?” 

“Tomorrow,” he said, intertwining your hands with his own. “Tomorrow, we will tell everyone, and we will deal with everything that comes along with it. But tonight…” 

“It is our secret.”

Anthony nodded. “Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together.” 

“The rest of our lives together,” you murmured. 

Truly, it sounded like a dream. Months ago you could not even consider the thought of marriage without an air of disgust—now, here with Anthony, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were to be his wife. 

The rest of your life with Anthony would be anything but simple.

And yet, somehow, you could not think of anything more perfect.

-

taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy

[svt-rosalie]

hi!! i was just wondering if you could go more in depth about yoongi and rosie’s relationship? they are such a sweet sibling duo and i’d love to read more about them!

. . . ♡ YOOJI ! ? 🐡 TIMELINE ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

you're in the first sentence of this

non-stopping page, my brightest dream

rainbow, nct dream

2013-2014 / Where It All Started.

Rosalie had attended a BTS fansign in 2013, when she got some free time after training

She loved meeting all the boys but her favorite was Yoongi

He was confused when she confessed that statement towards, yet she explained that his attitude and rapping skills drew her in and she’s excited to see what they become

She hoped they would make it big and all their dreams would come true

Rosie also confessed that she was training too at Pledis and hoped one day he could see her on stage and cheer her on like she does him

Their interaction was short but memorable

Yoongi spoke about her to his company and asked if they could get in contact with hers to see if it would be allowed for her to visit back and forth for training purposes

Pledis was skeptical, not wanting a trainee of theirs to get into a scandal before they even made a debut, but as long as their meetings were supervised then it was fine

(As if a 13 year old girl is thinking of anything other then school and her training?? Shut the fuck up Pledis)

The big brother roll set in very quickly for Yoongi

The two would spend time together with Yoongi teaching her skills with writing music and helping her rap even though she knew she wanted to be a singer

Knowing how to rap wasn’t a bad skill, as Yoongi would say

Every single time they would work together Rosalie took in every word Yoongi said like he hung the moon in the sky

Again — Rosalie was a fan of Yoongi and all the other members of BTS. So, it was crazy for her to be in the same room as the boy, gaining tips and tricks from him even though he was still a rookie

She just knew though that he and his member would be something one day, and she’d be right their supporting them!

2015-2018 / Debut, and More

After months of training and putting her blood, sweat and tears into everything that she does

Rosalie finally debuts

She hadn’t told a single soul that her groups first music video would be out on May 26 that year

Not even Yoongi, it was suppose to be a surprise

And surprised he was

Yoongi didn’t find out until Seventeen had a stage on the same day as BTS at the same place ( author note, i know run by bts was released in april 2015 so i feel like their schedules might have overlap but im not sure, so we are going to pretend they did!)

BTS has been busy that year, changing their concept and figuring out what said group was going to be with their newest comeback ‘Run’ — so Yoongi didn’t really have the chance to ask Rosalie many questions other then

‘How are you doing?’ ‘Are you eating correctly?’ ‘Is anyone being mean to you?’ ect ect

So it definitely threw the older boy off when the (at the time) 5’6 girl comes running at him and yelling “I debuted! I debuted! Aren’t you happy?”

Yoongi was very excited for her even if he didn’t show it well

Rosie knew though

She knew that he was proud and little scared for her as well in his eyes.

Eyes tell.

Yoongi and Rosie cheered each other on silently and behind the scenes

The older boy would send her flowers and words of encouragement when she had a showcase she’s was nervous to perform for or when she needed some uplifting words

Rosalie would show him pictures of her pulling his photos cards and would subtly promote BTS whenever she could.

The kpop community found out of their friendship when Yoongi released his solo mixtape under the name Agust D and they had a collab named ‘So Far Away’

Fans were surprised but at the same time not really that surprised, if that makes sense?

Everyone saw the subtly of their friendship, a senior and junior.

But it was more of older brother and younger sister.

Yoongi even though he would encourage her and give her advice, he still teased her.

They took the world by storm again when posting a photo together on BTS twitter with the caption “annoying little sister.”

Since 2017 they’ve became known to the world as the nations favorite siblings

Even though they aren’t related!

2020-Present / A Lifetime Friendship

The continued to have a strong bond throughout the years

They released many collabs together such as the song Eight on Rosalie’s first solo album, People Pt.2 on Yoongi’s Second mixtape

The public loved and hold on to every interaction they have

Rosalie’s parents think of Yoongi as a son they dreamed for

Yes, they love their two daughters but having son wouldn’t be so bad

At least that’s what Rosie’s mother says every time the older boy visits

Rosalie calls Yoongi any chance she gets

You know how their are some girls that call their mom or dad when they are in the car or getting ready, that’s Rosalie with Yoongi

Constantly.

The amount of youtube complications made for Yoongi and Rosie’s friendship

Clips resurface every year such as . . .

A clip from one of Rosie’s vlog of her and Yoongi going strawberry picking and then Rosie forcing the boy to bake a strawberry cake from the fruit they picked that day

Or Yoongi being recorded supporting Rosie at her Solo debut showcase in Seoul

Clips of Rosalie’s collection go BTS album collection right next to her SEVENTEEN ones, she likes to show off the photo cards she collect

(She’s one of us guys)

The two have never argued, disagreements yes, but they never get angry with each other

Rosalie is so happy she has someone like Yoongi in her life and Yoongi feels the exact same.

Twin flames, the two will stick by each others side till the very end

author note — this sucks, i’m sorry

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy

[nonstoplover]

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon &lt;3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

[odyssean-flower]

Title: What if you, like, gave Neuvillette a shoulder rub

I wanted to include this scene in the chapter but ultimately decided to save it for a later one. tbh i stopped before getting to the "good" part but i still hope you enjoy it

You gently nudged Neuvillette. “Hey, how about I give you a shoulder rub?”

“Pardon me, Madame?” his eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly as though he thought he heard wrong. “Did you say ‘shoulder rub’?”

You couldn’t blame him for his surprise. It was terribly forward of you to offer. But, you thought that it would be good for the both of you.

“We still have time before the meeting starts. I used to do it for my parents and the old folks back home, so I’m quite good at it, if I do say so myself.” Seeing the hesitance in his eyes, you added, “Don’t worry, my hands will only stay on your shoulders. I won’t touch you anywhere else.”

Neuvillette glanced down at your hands for the briefest of seconds, then looked back at your face. “Very well, I accept your offer,” he said, still sounding a bit hesitant. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn’t seem to have the right effect. You should really practice these things more.

You walked around the couch to stand behind him, then took off your gloves and draped them over the back of the seat. He twitched a little when you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. You should have asked him to take off his robes, but it was supposed to be a short massage anyways.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you said as you kneaded your fingers into his shoulder muscles. My goodness, he really needed this, you thought. You had to use all your fingers just to work out one single knot. Thinking back to his late nights in his study, you felt a rush of guilt. He works too hard. I should have offered to do this a long time ago.

Neuvillette was motionless as you worked. If it weren’t for the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, you would have thought that you were massaging a statue.

“Um…does it feel good?” you asked after a short period of silence. You had the feeling he was holding his breath.

“…Yes,” there was the slightest tremor in his voice. He cleared his throat, “Yes, it feels I’ve…never experienced something like this before. You’re quite skilled at this, Madame.”

“Thank you, but I’m just an amateur. You should look into visiting a professional masseuse for a full body massage. I’ve never been to one myself, but I heard you’ll feel like a completely new person after you use their services.” If this was how stiff his shoulders were, you could only imagine how it was for the rest of his body. “I heard they use aromatic oils and other things like that to help you relax. A lot of the higher-end spas have strict confidentiality policies, so you don’t have to worry about your privacy.” You were repeating what you’ve read during your honeymoon research.

[sanjisboyfie]

shanks being your doting boyfriend

(slightly himbo) shanks x male reader

NOT PROOFREAD mb. small, slight manga spoilers??? sorry guys + LMFAO i hadto ctrl + f every single time i used "arms" and switch it to "arm" also im so soorrryyyy its kinda rlly short.....forgive me also idc???? if this seems ooc to me shanks is just a silly lil guy.

— oh god. the power you hold. you actually singlehandedly could change the course of the entire one piece universe if you wanted to. why??? because one of the four emperors of the sea follows everrything you say like a lost puppy. he hangs off of every word that leaves your lips with a dumb, lovesick grin on his face. his head is empty, just thoughts of you. good thing you use this power of yours for good and keep this man HUMBLE.

"[name], can you please tell your idiot boyfriend to just do the dishes, i can't-"

"beckkkkkk, why are you bothering me and my boyfriend's personal time together?" shanks whined, little spooning his way into your side. his stubble was scratching your skin, making you itchy around your neck and shoulder, especially with the way he was so aggressively nuzzling his head. "we haven't even woken up yet,"

"yeah, and you were supposed to be on cleaning duty last night and you instead chose to spend that time coddling [name], so look where we are now,"

"i'm the captain, goddammit! why do i have to do something like cleaning duty?"

"ask [name], he made that rule,"

shanks' aggressive demeanor turned into putty as he pouted at you. it was not a fitting expression for someone that had a reputation like his and also his age (too old to be acting like a kid).

"babbbbyyy, why are you making us spend less time together? is it because you hate me?"

"shanks, just go fucking do some cleaning in the kitchen. it's a shit show and it's pissing me and the chefs off. get a grip, babe," you scolded, pushing his pouting face away from your own.

with a look of hesitation, shanks finally backed off and got out of bed. as he was putting on a proper pair of trousers on, he was muttering about his own boyfriend was bullying him. his comments went ignored by both you and beck — who was watching with a look of disbelief on his face.

to see his best friend, captain, and one of the four emperors of the sea so easily swayed into doing chores was something he doesn't think he'd ever get used to. no matter how long you and shanks have been together, seeing the red head so obediently follow orders was infathomable.

— shanks -> really intimidating status as captain of the red hair pirates -> turns into complete mush when you walk into the room. without fail, he physically deflates into whatever seat he's sitting in and holds his arm out to you invitingly, waiting for you to sit on his lap.

shanks was supposed to be in serious mode. he was sitting in front of some pretty high ranked marine officials, who were after his crews' heads. he wasn't the type to hold hostages, just to let them go back running to their navy base, but considering the crew was on a vacation of sorts, he needed to know how they were able to track them down.

it lingered in his mind that there was a chance there was a mole in their ranks, but he didn't want to accept that as it would be a painful reality.

"so, how did you know we'd be at this island to recover?" shanks questioned, eyes glaring holes into the marines' faces. they were shaking where they sat, except for one who tried holding a tough demeanor. "i'm not going to do anything to you if you just answer my question,"

just as the marine was about to spill all their information out, the door of the room they were in was slammed open. shanks' haki faltered slightly as he was able to recognize that it was you, and with that imbalance, it sent the marine officers over the edge and made them pass out instead.

you took in the scene, bleakly apologizing for interuppting. shanks didn't have the heart to scold you, so instead he just took you into his arm with a wide grin and said, "no, no, it's alright. i was beginning to miss you anyway, doll. was wondering why you weren't with me," he pouted into your skin, making you laugh.

"turns out one of the lackeys you let on board recently was the reason why these guys showed up out of nowhere," you informed your lover, who hummed in interest, "took a while, but was able to get him to crack under pressure."

shanks sighed in content, hugging you even tighter, "i love you so much, you're so sexy when you take control,"

another laugh escaped your lips as you heard your boyfriend almost drunkenly sing you praises, "it was nothing, the guy had zero resolve anyway,"

"you're so amazing, baby," he continued complimenting into your skin, acting as if there weren't three passed out marine officers in front of you two.

a couple of the lackeys of the crew came bounding into the room and almost froze when they saw their intimidating captain cuddling into your side like an eager puppy.

"u-uhm, captain?" shanks only hummed in acknowledgement as he held you tight to his side. "what do you want us to do with these guys and that bastard traitor?"

"oh, just keep them tied up and then leave them on the shore when we depart — they probably won't survive with all the wildlife around here," shanks hummed, waving his hand dismissively. you were standing in between his legs and he was relishing in the skinship you were allowing him.

"should we tell the rest that we will be setting sail soon then?"

this time you interjected, "yeah, i'll come with you, boys. i'll make moving the bodies easier."

the crew's face lightened up at your familiar kind behavior, but then stiffened when they heard a groan coming from shanks.

"but [name]!! these guys got it, just stay with me longer, please,"

"oh, shut up, idiot. just go back to the main event and lift up the spirits of our crew, they probably wanna hear words from their captain after such a traitorous bastard infiltrated us,"

shanks sighed at your mini lecture, but dragged himself to follow your footsteps. he was holding onto your hand and his feet were practically stomping into the wood.

"who even made me captain, i never asked for this," he sighed, making the crew weakly laugh to fill the awkward silence while you just tried apologizing for your boyfriend, and captain's, idiotic behavior.

— shanks really cherishes the alone time he can spend with you. living your lives as highly wanted pirates makes your daily life hectic. and, thankfully, the foundations of your relationship only led to you two being able to keep that strong trust, respect, and love for each other so alive.

it was nighttime and the ship was rocking ever so slightly with the waves. for once, you switched cuddling positions and had your head resting on shanks' chest. your fingers were drawing mindless shapes on the exposed skin while shanks' arm was squeezing your plushy flesh every now and then.

"you know, i love you so much, right?" he confessed into the night air, the genuineness of his emotions being made obvious with how softly he spoke.

"i love you too," you easily said back, not thinking twice.

"but, do you know i love you?" shanks repeated, sitting up and holding onto your waist to make sure all your attention was directed on him, "i know our lives don't make our lifestyle easier and i know i get really busy when times get rough, but i needed to tell you again that i love you so much [name]."

you grinned at his sincerity, leaning forward and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his chapped lips. he reciprocated in a second's notice, but you pulled away before he could deepen it (as he usually did whenever you two kissed).

"i know you love me shanks, you are the sweetest lover i can think of. your kindness and humanity remind me everyday that this life is worth living if it's with you," shanks smiled at your words, nudging his forehead against yours to entice you to pull in closer to him.

your lips locked once more in a passionate filled kiss. your bare chests were now skin to skin with one another and it took a couple minutes of desperate kissing for shanks to be satisfied.

and when you finally pulled away and settled back onto his chest, he squeezed you once more and asked, "you've had other lovers besides me?" in reference to what you said earlier.

cue an eyeroll and pinch to his sides to make him shut his pretty mouth for some needed peace and quiet.

[nameless-jamie]

PR Disaster

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes

Jamie Tartt was a nightmare to work for on an average day. But on a day when he was desperate? He was unbearable.

Y/N had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get through her emails while Jamie sat across from her desk, relentlessly attempting to convince her to do something insane.

“Come on, love,” Jamie pleaded, drumming his fingers on her desk. “It’s just one night. Just a little thing. Barely even a date.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend at a charity gala.”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Jamie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, you have to.”

“Oh, I have to?” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "M'not getting paid for this so I don't have to do shit, Jamie."

"Don't be difficult, babe. I beg you!"

“Let me get this straight. You, a fully grown man, need a date to some fancy event, and instead of—I don’t know—asking out one of the many women who throw themselves at you, you come to me, your freaking assistant?”

He sighed dramatically. “I can’t take some random girl. That’d make it worse.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Worse than what?”

Jamie slouched lower in his chair and sighed. “Some wanker journalist wrote a whole article about how I’ve ‘lost my edge’ since I’ve been single. Said my game’s sufferin’ ‘cause I’m too ‘unfocused.’” He made air quotes, looking deeply offended. “He said I'm too horny for the pitch or some shit. Like, I can’t be single and good at football at the same time. It’s bullshit.”

“That does sound like bullshit.”

“Right?"

"Too horny for the pitch, is my favorite thing anyone has ever said about you, though." Y/N laughed, wiping a small tear out of the corner of her eye.

"Y/N be fucking for real right now. The plan is, if I show up with a girlfriend, it shuts everyone up. And if I take you, it don’t get messy. No expectations. No awkward post-date texts. Just you lookin’ dead fit in a fancy dress and me lookin’ like a man not in the middle of a public downward spiral.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like you’ve thought way too much about this?”

Jamie grinned. “Because I have.”

She exhaled slowly, staring at him for a long moment. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Best ones usually are.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

"And if the press wants us to kiss it wouldn't be awkward because we already did that once!"

"Jamie, that is still a fucking accident. We don't talk about that!"

"I mean I want to talk about it—" Jamie couldn't finish that sentence before a pen was thrown his way.

"Pick me up at 7. Go away now!"

The night started when he picked her up for the gala, in a freaking stretch limousine.

Y/N opened her door.

Jamie’s brain short-circuited.

She stood there in a dress that was so—fuck. It was tight in all the right places, dipping low at the neckline, hugging her waist like it was personally designed to ruin his life. Her legs? Glorious. The slit in her dress? Criminal. Her makeup? Perfect.

He actually forgot how to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head. “Jamie?”

He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to speak. “Huh?”

Her lips twitched. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice cracking like a fucking teenager. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you look—” He gestured vaguely at her, struggling to find a word that wasn’t fuckable. “Good. Nice. Decent.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Decent?”

Jamie winced. Fuckin’ idiot. “Nah, not decent. I meant, like, proper good. Like, unfairly good. Like—fuck, what’s the word—illegal?”

She laughed, and Jamie swore it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she teased. “Considering I’m supposed to be your date.”

Right. The fake date. The one that wasn’t real. The one where he definitely wasn’t supposed to be thinking about how he wanted to keep her locked in his car all night so no one else could look at her.

Jamie exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Get it together, Tartt.

Y/N gave him a knowing smile. “You ready to go?”

Jamie didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he just opened the car door for her, staring straight ahead as she got in—because if he looked for even a second longer, there was a very real chance he’d be showing up to the gala with a boner.

And that was definitely not part of the plan.

Y/N soon realized that the problem wasn’t the gala.

The problem was Jamie.

Because he was apparently way too good at fake dating.

For someone who was supposedly just trying to fix his reputation, he seemed very committed to the role.

He kept his hand on the small of her back all night, his thumb moving in slow circles against the fabric of her dress like it was second nature. He leaned in close every time he spoke to her, his breath warm against her ear. And worst of all, he kept looking at her like that. Like she was the only person in the room.

He also seemed to be having the time of his life making up a fake relationship history.

“Oh, yeah,” he told an interviewer from The Athletic. “She played hard to get at first, but I wore her down.”

“She pretends to be annoyed by me,” he added later, “but really? She’s obsessed.”

Y/N had to bite her tongue multiple times to avoid strangling him.

But then came the real kicker.

“She makes me a better man. I mean fuck— have you looked at her. She is not going to her own flat tonight, am I right love?”

Y/N nearly choked on her champagne.

What the fuck was he playing at?

She was fully prepared to murder him the second they got into the car.

But before she could, the event photographer asked them to pose for a picture, and—

Jamie pulled her in, his hand sliding around her waist, fingers brushing the bare skin at her side.

Her breath hitched.

And then—

Jamie fucking winked.

The camera flashed.

And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, a journalist called out:

“Jamie! One more shot—how about a kiss for the cameras?”

She froze.

Jamie, however, seemed thrilled by the idea.

“Oh, yeah?” He turned to her, smirking. “What d’you reckon, love? Give the people what they want?”

She stared at him, genuinely considering murder.

But the cameras were waiting. The journalists were watching. And it's not like it would be their first one...

Jamie—the absolute menace—was already leaning in, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a real smile.

She had two options: make it awkward as hell by shutting it down, or commit to the bit.

FUCK, she was his freaking assistant. And she's totally into him. But that wasn't important right now. If she did not kiss him the press would know that Jamie Tartt brought a fake date or worse they would think that his own girlfriend hates him. If she kisses him though, the PR disaster after that would fucking suck.

Fuck it. With a deep breath, she reached up, placed her hand on his chest, and let Jamie close the distance between them.

It was barely a kiss—a soft press of lips, just enough to make it convincing. But Jamie’s hand tightened on her waist, just for a second, and her fingers curled against the fabric of his suit before she forced herself to pull away.

The cameras loved it.

Jamie did too, judging by the way he looked at her afterward.

“Not bad, love,” he murmured, his lips still inches from hers. “Please tell me that one was an accident too. Or else I might have to take you home with me tonight.”

She just rolled her eyes and shoved him. Idiot.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to absolute chaos.

Her phone had exploded.

Twitter was going insane.

She clicked on the first headline that popped up.

"Jamie Tartt Goes Public With Stunning Mystery Girlfriend at Charity Gala—And We Have ALL the Details"

She scrolled down, her horror growing with every paragraph.

"From the way he looked at her to the way he kept a protective hand on her waist all night, Jamie Tartt was absolutely smitten. Sources tell us that he was completely devoted to her the entire evening, barely paying attention to anyone else. And let's not forget the viral moment when he told reporters, 'She makes me a better man.' Our hearts? Melted."

“Oh, for fuck sake. I knew it.”

She stormed into Nelson Road, phone in hand. “Jamie fucking Tartt!”

Jamie, who had been laughing with Dani, turned at the sound of her voice. “Mornin’, love.”

She marched up to him and shoved her phone in his face. “Do you know how many people think we’re actually together?”

He barely glanced at the screen before shrugging. “Yeah. Bit mad, innit?”

“Mad? Mad?” She scrolled further. “People are already speculating about a wedding! I just got an email from Vogue asking if we’d do a couples photoshoot and a fucking interview!”

Jamie grinned. “Vogue, yeah? That’s kinda sick. Let’s do it. I can tell ‘em about how you snore when you fall asleep on the couch.”

“I do not snore.” She gaped at him. “Jamie. This is not funny.”

“Babe, you do,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, "And it’s a little funny.”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You love me, remember? You make me a better man.”

“You fucking prick. You even liked a post that said, ‘Jamie Tartt and his girlfriend are the it couple of the season’!”

Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause we are.”

Her jaw dropped. “We are not.”

Jamie tilted his head, a playful glint in his eye. “You sure about that, love?”

She refused to answer.

Jamie must’ve noticed her hesitation because he leaned in, dropping his voice. “Just say the word, and I’ll post a proper ‘soft launch’ photo of us on Instagram.”

She shoved him away.

But later, when she caught him scrolling through a fan edit of them kissing with that smug little smile, she had the sinking suspicion that Jamie had no intention of letting this fake relationship die anytime soon.

And worse?

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to. She had to clear the air, though...And the PR of all of it was going to be a fucking disaster.

[costelloschoice]

A Gentle Life

(I'm currently having a brain rot of this woman and I need to get it off my chest LMAO. Also, my first time writing for this fandom so, hi :])

-Mizu x fem!reader -fluff : ))

Soft hands caress her face, causing her eyes to flutter open, "Mizu...Mizu wake up," she hears from a familiar voice. Her soft blue eyes look up to see her beloved. Mizu couldn't help but smile up at you, her love.

The soft spring winds brushes by, causing the leaves to sway in the wind. The blue skies were clear of any clouds, sun shining down on the earth. Birds chirping and flying along, living their own separate lives. But here Mizu was, sitting with Mizu under a tree with her head in your lap, not having a single care in the world. She remembered a scene like this before, in her past life with a man and a mother who wronged her...but here she was again, this time, she had you.

You are everything to Mizu. She's lost so much, and nothing was ever permanent for her, stuff others would have forever while she had them for only such a short period of time. She had met you while on her path to revenge, not expecting to find love on the way. Love was never kind to Mizu. Mikio was supposed to be her forever but only saw her as a monster. Her mother turned her in at the drop of a hat for a chance to get her "medicine". Mizu was convinced she couldn't be loved from her being a 'monster'.

She never experienced her feminine side and when she did, it didn't last long. Having to be someone you're not your entire life becomes draining at some point. But with you? She's allowed to be herself. No more pretending, no more men's clothes unless she has to fight, no more binding her chest down. You have made her soft, gentle, sweet...What she had wanted to be.

She never dreamed of being a killer, never asked to be born the way she was. But in this world, it's kill or be killed and she was never going to back down to her oppressors. The world has been cruel to her, but you were caring. You were understanding, loving, accepted her for who she is. How you would compliment her blue eyes. You would constantly tell her she's one in a million and they'll never be another life her.

Mizu's hand reaches up to cup your own cheek, smiling as she says, "I love you..." her words laced with pure affection.

"Thank you for giving me a gentle life.."

[torasplanet]

❝𝙑𝙊𝙔𝙀𝙐𝙍.ᐟ❞

HUSBAND!A. ARLERT + F. READER + E. YEAGER, F, FORSTER & L. ACKERMAN

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; armin had no idea his wife was such a…whore but he’s just as bad because he likes to watch it.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; smut like fr fr, degradation, cuckholding, cheating, foursome…?, masterbating, voyerism, everyone is just horrible if we’re being fr

You were the perfect little wife for Armin. Always at home cleaning, cooking and doing your best to satisfy him once he got home from a long day of fighting titans. He loved the sight of you asleep on the couch after staying up late waiting for him. He loved the food you set aside for him because he was running late. He loved the talks of having a small family with you.

Armin loved you and he loved all that you do for him and he thought he knew you best in the world. He thought he knew your every move, your every thought and what you did when he wasn’t home. Well he had an idea of what you did and the answer certainly was not anything he had been expecting.

See, one night, Armin had come home pretty late. Later than usual he was the last one to get off shift and he expected you to be fast asleep in your shared bed so of course he was being quiet when entering the house. He toed his shoes off by the door and tip-toes through the house to the bedroom to find the door creaked open just a tad bit. Upon peering through this crack, he was faced with a sight that nothing could’ve prepared him for.

His best friend, Eren, in bed with you, his lovely housewife. The two of you were facing the door, your face was shoved into the mattress and eren, I guess he was too focused on your body to even look at the door. Any normal person seeing this would’ve walked in and stopped it or left but no, Armin stayed and stared at the scene with furrowed brows.

“Aw look at you, falling apart under me when you’re supposed to be waiting for Armin to come home.” Eren muttered into your ear as he forced your head down into the mattress. You didn’t say anything and just groaned loudly into the messy sheets as you continued to push your nails into the mattress to stop you from falling off the edge.

Eren’s hand held onto your hip tightly, digging his short nails into your flesh while carelessly thrusting in and out of your warmth. “Seems like someone’s not doing his job correctly huh?” The male above you laughed but you let out a whine and lifted your face from the bed.

Armin could finally see how ruined your face was. Your eyes were red and leaking tears that seemed never ending but it didn’t seem like you were in pain, you looked like you were enjoying it. Every single part of it. “Don’t say that…” You babbled trying to turn your head and look at Eren but you didn’t have enough strength to.

Armin felt his pants getting tighter at the scene and didn’t know what to do. He kept looking at the scene as if he couldn’t look away, his bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he watched you try and form words. “What? Don’t want me to talk about my friend while I’m fucking you?” Eren asked with a grin and sobs escaped your mouth while you put your face back in the bed.

Small moans came from Armin's mouth as he couldn’t resist himself and began to palm himself through his pants. “…I really love Armin. I do.” You sobbed and Eren laughed at you again. Grabbing you by your hair, he pulled you up to his chest. “If you did then maybe it’d be him instead of me.” The dark-haired man whispered to you as you mewled loudly.

Eren didn’t say anything as you continued to sob while the tip of Eren’s cock hit your cervix over and over as he bullied his way into your soaking cunt. His hand that was in your hair traveled to your neck and held you close to him as he continued to fuck you while you did nothing but moan. “Feels good…” The moans slipped past your wet lips like nothing and they held nothing.

There was nothing in that head other than the dick you were getting and you didn’t care what you said. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as you breathed heavily feeling your stomach tighten. Pleasure rushed over you faster than you could ever predict and you came hard. All over eren.

He pushed you back down on the bed as long and heavy breaths left his chest but he wasn’t done. “Should I come inside huh?” Eren asked as you tried to catch your breath. “Yeah…please. I want it.” This time your moans were pleads, desperate attempts at trying to convince Eren to give you what you want. It made Armin get closer to his release just hearing it and watching it.

“Fuck…” Eren groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he came close to the edge but he had other plans for you. “Sorry. Whores don’t get what they want.” He said harshly as he pulled out and came on your back making your body jolt at the unexpected feeling. Whines continued to leave your mouth as you complained about being empty but Eren didn’t seem to care and neither did Armin. He cared very little about what you were saying and instead what you looked like.

He couldn’t believe it but Armin liked what he was seeing. He should’ve been mad, he should’ve been yelling at the both of you but he didn’t just moan quietly as he came in his pants. Armin never thought he’d be a voyeur to his wife and his childhood friend but he didn’t mind being one.

He never brought it up to you after. You had no clue that he even knew and life was just the same as always but Armin wanted more. He wanted to look at more and he wanted to see more so of course the logical thing to do was to tell you that he had to leave for work earlier but just stay home the entire time.

Armin would wake you up at the crack of dawn and tell you he was leaving and then hide out in the bathroom until Eren came over and once he left and you were distracted, then armin would leave for work. It was surprising that you never suspected anything or found out but that just meant he could carry on with doing it.

There was a day he was doing it and he was hiding out in the bathroom waiting for you and eren to walk into the bedroom but it never came. Armin got confused and crept out of the bathroom and into the hallway hopefully so no one could see him and there you were.

On the couch but your usual partner wasn’t there and instead, there was Floch. He was between your legs which were being held open by being placed on his shoulders and of course, you were blinded by pleasure. Eyes glued shut and your mouth wide open with drool leaking from the side of your mouth and those promiscuous sounds coming with it.

Armin’s blue eyes were awfully wide at the scene, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Just how many of his friends were you fucking? Armin felt like he should say something now, that he should do something but he didn’t and he remained in his hidden and crouched position to watch. He watched this for nearly an hour and had cummed in his pants multiple times.

Your hands were entangled in Floch’s head of brown hair which was being squished by your thighs. “Uhn…c’mon just let me…” You pleaded looking down at him with watery eyes. He’s been eating you out for probably an hour by now and all you’ve been doing is begging to ride him. You just couldn’t take anymore of his torture to your clit.

Floch’s head rose from your crotch as you pulled on his hair “Is that what you want? I remember you calling me and saying that this is what you wanted.” He asked with a low tone as his hands came to your inner thigh to spread your legs further. Armin was mentally begging Floch to move out the way so he could see it, so he could see how wet you were from being eaten out for so long. “Well I really want to ride you now.” You said, batting your wet eyelashes at him.

Floch didn’t say anything and just smiled at you “Gotta give her what she wants right?” Said Floch before delivering one last long lick to your soaking and irritated cunt making a shiver run up your spine. He leaned back against the rest of the couch finally giving Armin the scene he wanted to look at so badly. Your poor pussy was soaking and throbbing, probably just wanting something inside.

Jerking off to the sight of you, deep down Armin felt bad. He should’ve confronted you, maybe he should’ve been hurt by your cheating but he couldn’t feel anything more than pleasure and his jeans rubbing against his clothed cock when he looked at this.

Floch pulled his boxers down and waited for you to do what you wanted. Positioning yourself above him, you made eye contact with Floch before you began to lower yourself on his cock. The wet sounds of him stretching you out were the only noises in the room as you tried your hardest not to let out the loud moans you were holding inside.

“Stop trying to act like you’re not a whore. Fucking moan.” Floch said, grabbing hold of your jaw and pulling you close to his face. You fully sunk into his cock and let out a small noise at the feeling of him rubbing against your fleshy walls. Floch narrowed his eyes at you before meeting you with a nasty open-mouthed kiss.

Grinding your hips felt so good that you couldn’t stay silent anymore “Fuck…feels good.” You moaned, breaking the kiss and sitting up straight. Floch just watched below you as you began to bounce on his cock with those stupid loud ass moans slipping from your lips that never seemed to close. Your tits bounced in front of his face and he reached up and grabbed one making your back arch and your whimpers louder.

Armin’s eyes were locked on your tits as well, he wished you knew he was here because then he could moan as much as he wanted. A hand clamped over his mouth as an attempt to silence himself “Oh my fucking god…” The blonde moaned to himself as he felt himself cumming all over again. His cum from his previous orgasms were still all over his hand and he didn’t care, he wanted more. He couldn’t just sit there with a hard on all over again while you bounced up and down chasing your own orgasm.

Your palms slapped down on Floch’s chest trying to steady yourself as you felt yourself cumming. It was too easy for you to get to that point after about an hour of being tortured with oral and it wasn’t hard for Floch either. He was surprised he didn’t cum in his pants during that entire time he was giving you head. “Fuck keep going.” The brunette said, giving you a harsh slap to your ass as you started to slow down as you were just on the edge.

“‘M sorry just lemme cum…” You mewled not caring about anything but cumming. Floch smiled and chuckled at your words “Eren’s so mean to you isn't he? Never giving you what you want.” He said to you but it seemed like you weren’t listening, you just wanted to cum so badly.

Floch was much nicer than Eren was…maybe it was because he wanted you so bad long before you even noticed him. Or maybe Eren was just incredibly mean as he thought he was superior to the other guys you fucked. I mean he’s your husband’s best friend…he should get special treatment.

Once Floch came and his cum flooded your cunt, you immediately came with a yelp “Fuck, oh my—!” You yelled digging your nails into his chest as you squirted all over Floch’s pelvis.

Armin squeezed his eyes shut as he came all on his hand once again staining his pants with his cum along with it. He breathed heavily while trying to catch his breath then he realized where he was and rushed back to the bedroom and pushed his back against the door after silently closing it. His gaze transferred to his lap and saw how much of a mess he made all over himself.

He’d have to clean that up before he went to work. Armin wonders if you’d notice an extra pie of pants that just happened to be cum-stained in the dirty clothes basket…

The next time something happens, Armin truly doesn’t know what to expect or whom to expect but it didn’t stop him because just like before, he waited. Yet no one came into the bedroom and he wasn’t worried or anything, he knew the destination of your unloyal acts must be the couch again. So just like with Floch, he crept out carefully and looked toward the living room and wouldn’t you have it? There you were.

However…you weren’t with Eren nor were you with Floch, you were with Levi. His boss. Now this surprised Armin. Out of everyone that knew about you and knew you, Levi seemed to be the one that did not like you. Levi always complained when you used to come to the corps to give Armin things that he had forgotten to grab in the morning.

He truly seemed to dislike you and had written you off as a distraction for Armin. Well, maybe not. At least now Armin knows the real reason why you acted so…nervous when Levi was brought up in his usual recaps of work. He always thought it was just because Levi didn’t hide his feelings of disliking you but again, he was wrong.

Levi was sitting on the couch while you sat on your knees on the floor between his spread legs and similar to the other two times Armin had seen you, your eyes were moist with tears that you were unable to hold back from falling on your cheeks. “What? You can’t do it anymore?” Levi asked, holding a leash tight that was connected to that choker around your neck.

“No, I can…but—“ “But what?” Levi asked, interrupting you and making you lower your head, refusing to make eye contact with him. You didn’t say anything, not a word and reached your hand up to grab at his bare leg once more before lowering your mouth on his cock.

Each time Armin comes across these scenes, he never knows what to do or what to think. He doesn’t know if he should be mad but then again if he was mad…who would he be mad at? You? His friends and co-workers? Maybe even himself for just watching and not lifting even a finger to do anything more than be a filthy animal and stroke his cock at the sight.

A thought about you being unfaithful never even crossed his mind before, especially not in a case with multiple people. But even if it did, he’d never thought he’d like it. “I’m supposed to be at work but I came here. Because some brat needed me.” Levi insulted you despite enjoying the action himself. He loved feeling your throat closing around his cock just as much as you loved choking around it.

He was just as into it as you were. Drool dripped from the corners of your mouth and down the length of Levi that couldn’t fit into your mouth. Your watery eyes continued to make eye contact with the older man, batting your eyelashes at him hoping he’ll give you what you want after you satisfy him. When it came to Levi, you always had to earn it.

He groaned from above you even letting out small moans. You took your mouth off of him and Armin silently groaned, throwing his head back at the sight of your mouth hanging open. Your hand wrapped around Levi and you began to jerk him off rapidly to get him closer to his breaking point. Levi didn’t say anything, not a word and only groaned and breathed through his mouth heavily.

“If I let you cum, will you let me?” You asked quietly as you squeezed your legs together wanting nothing more than the feeling between them to come undone and be relieved. “Suddenly you make the decisions?” Levi asked, looking down at you as his head was thrown back over the edge of the couch. With a shrug of your shoulders, you blinked away your gaze from Levi. “I don’t. I’m asking.” You muttered slowing the pace of your hand down which obviously did not sit well with Levi.

His grasp on the leash tightened and he nearly choked you with how he pulled it. Not to bring you any closer, but to tell you to shut up. The Ackerman was quick to shove your head back on his cock and you were quick to begin sucking once more like a trained dog.

Armin couldn’t stop watching how Levi put you in your place so quickly. It reminded him of Floch and Eren. They all seemed to talk to you awful with no regards for your feelings whatsoever, is that what you like? Is that what Armin should do to you? Now he wants to more than ever. He loves you to bits but right now all he wants to do is cum on your body and refuse to give you what you want. Maybe if you ask nicely he will.

Levi bucked his hips up as his orgasm came and his cum deeper into your mouth in thick ropes. You pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed all of it but you barely had a second to open your mouth and show him that you had because he pulled the leash once more and kissed you roughly. His chapped lips meet your moist and plump ones as you sit there waiting for yours.

Armin still didn’t get why he seemed to enjoy this so much but at this point, he didn’t care anymore. He carried on his life as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been a bystander in his own wife’s pleasure because he didn’t care. He came home, kissed you, ate dinner just like normal and never said a word and neither did you. You didn’t suspect a single thing about the blonde.

Your precious Armin who you claimed to love so dearly. You couldn’t imagine that he would ever come across something like that and not say a word. You were so in the dark about what was going on that Armin could smile about it. It turned him on more because you had no idea.

But there was something that had bothered Armin quite a bit. After seeing Levi and you together in the living room, he hadn’t come across you and anyone else at all. You were by yourself at home since then minding your little business. He didn’t know why but he was a bit confused although he went back to his normal routine before all of this.

His feelings of concern were soon put aside when close to the end of his shift, he was informed that Eren had left. Armin assumed that Eren had come over to your place for you but he questioned why he’d choose right now out of everything? Armin could easily walk in on the two of you…oh whatever, it’s not like Armin wouldn’t enjoy it.

When he got home, he made sure to be quiet when taking off his shoes and putting everything by the door. There was not a sign of anyone in the living room or kitchen and there were sounds coming from the bedroom and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on but…when Armin went to the door and peeked through the door that he had opened a bit, he was shocked.

Eren was there but it wasn’t just him. Floch was there and so was Levi. They were all there on the bed using you to their pleasure and you had been blindfolded. Armin had no idea the other two even left work but he wasn’t complaining. The sight was one that immediately put a tent in his pants.

You were facing Eren who was at the head of the bed, his hand on the back of your head forcing his cock further down the wet cave that was your throat making it so sore. Levi was fucking you from behind with his hands gripping your hips tight. He was the only thing keeping you from falling flat on the bed and Floch, he was at your side just touching all over you as you jerked him off. It seemed like he couldn’t wait for his turn with you.

You were so whorish…dressed in the lingerie that Armin had bought you. That’s if you can even say that because the only part you had on was the panties that seemed to be pulled to the side. A blindfold covered your eyes completely leaving your only senses to be touch and sound and you were making a lot of sounds.

The hand that wasn’t trying to pleasure Floch was gripping Eren’s tan thigh digging crescent shaped indents in his leg. Armin squeezed his eyes at that, you did that to him too. He liked when he would get ready for work and see the marks you left on his lightly freckled thigh. Fuck, he wanted to be involved so bad. He needed to.

“Mhfm!” Your shouts were muffled as you clawed at Eren’s leg while his bush of untamed pubes pressed against your nose. He looked down at you almost annoyed that you had to breathe and took your mouth off his cock. A string of saliva connected your bottom lip to his length as you breathed heavily. However your peace was short-lived as you were flung forward into Eren by one of Levi’s particularly strong thrusts.

Yeager's hand found its way to your neck and pulled you away from his body “Can’t do anything right can you? Only chasing another orgasm.” Eren said looking past your teary face and how despite being insulted, you were throwing your ass back on Levi’s pelvis matching his strokes. “Yeah stop being so lazy.” Floch muttered with an evil grin on his face matching eren’s as he placed his hand on top of yours to speed up your pace.

“How are you a whore and lazy? Just don’t mix.” Eren said, watching as you began to kiss down his length with a frown. “M’ not.” You muttered sadly and a yelp came from your throat when Levi’s hand came down fast and hard on the side of your thigh. “You’re here with us when you’re supposed to be waiting for your stupid husband. You are a whore.” Levi muttered to you as you felt tears burning in the back of your eyes again.

Taking your mouth away from Eren, your frown deepened “Don’t call him that…” You said but no more words came out of your mouth as Floch grabbed your hair and shoved your mouth down on his cock replacing your hand. “What? Don’t tell me you love him?” The brunette said looking down at you as you choked around him. You nodded to the best of your ability and Armin saw that.

He knows he shouldn’t believe what you’re saying because if you loved him then you wouldn’t be doing something like this. You wouldn’t be cheating but he wouldn’t be enjoying it either if he was a good husband. Armin couldn’t help but feel amazing at you defending him.

He forgot where he was for a moment and mined softly while jerking himself off. He leaned his head forward to rest against the wall but he missed and leaned against the door, opening it further and revealing himself with a creak. All eyes except for yours snapped to him and he felt it and his blue eyes opened.

The blonde burned with embarrassment, he didn’t know what to do and stayed silent. “Look babe, it’s Armin.” Floch said, patting your cheek lightly as you seemed to panic at the silence wondering what had happened. Not like you could say anything with your mouth stuffed.

“You’re enjoying this huh?” Eren asked, looking at his friend and his eyes drifting down slightly to Armin’s cock still up in his hand. “Why don’t you keep watching? We’re having too much fun to stop.” Eren said, tilting his head over to the armchair that was in the corner of the room closest to the bed. Armin didn’t say anything and sat in the chair silently as if it was any regular day and the other men treated it as such.

Floch threw his head back with a moan as he came down your throat finally allowing you to take your mouth off him. You swallowed his cum and laid your head on Eren’s lap with your head turned to Armin whether you knew it or not. You just felt his presence there. Armin breathed heavily as he jerked himself off rapidly looking at you and watching how your body moved forward with every thrust Levi gave you.

“Tch. She’s a slut, acts like she doesn’t get shit.” Levi said making eye contact with the blue-eyed man who seemed like he was on the edge. Bucking his hips in the air as he moaned gently but he didn’t say anything and just looked back at you. “I really do—fuck—love you Armin.” You said between your promiscuous noises while arching your back feeling yourself cumming all over Levi’s length.

Armin moaned loudly, his back arching like yours, as he came onto your face. Some landing on your tongue from your open mouth spilling stupid mewls of wanting more. “I love you too baby.” He said with low eyes. Fuck he enjoyed this too damn much, he wanted it to happen again.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[takerfoxx]

I'm so fucking confused what did the Rock do

It's a very long and complicated tale, but the short version, the Rock recently joined the board of directors for TKO (WWE's parent company) and SEEMINGLY (as we don't know the full behind the scenes story just yet) used his clout to push himself into the Wrestlemania main event, challenging his sort of cousin Roman Reigns for the WWE Universal Championship and pushing aside Cody Rhodes, the guy that was supposed to be Roman's challenger, and thereby sabotaging a two-year story that everyone was invested in right when it was about to see it's conclusion. And people are pissed about it.

That's the short version. Here is the loooooonnnnnggggg version.

WWE has been plagued by a number of issues over the years (not the least being that it's been run by an actual rapist for the last four decades), but the two relevant issues is a tendency to rely on past their prime stars of yesterday at the expense of building new stars for today, and when they do want to build a new star, they have a bad habit of shoving their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat to everyone else's detriment in a nakedly inauthentic manner until the fans get sick of them (see: Ultimate Warrior, John Cena, and, most recently, Roman Reigns, who will become important later). Needless to say, they've had a lot of trouble getting the crowd behind what is known as the White Meat Babyface, or primary good guy.

The Rock started off as the latter, being introduced as Rocky Maivia, who was a wholesome good boy who was just so happy to be here. People saw through it and booed the fuck out of him. In rare case of the WWE actually listening and responding, they turned Rocky heel and let him vent his frustrations at the fans, which let everyone know that, holy shit, this guy is actually insanely charismatic and probably the best trash talker in the business! Thus, the Rock was born.

However, while he certainly earned his accolades during his heyday, his returns since haven't been so universally admired (see previous note about the WWE pushing the stars of yesterday). One instance about ten years ago involves him main eventing Wrestlemania against John Cena over CM Punk, who was the reigning WWE Champion at the time, and was quite annoyed. Okay, the Rock vs. John Cena could be excused on account of being that much of a dream match, but then they had CM Punk end his year long title run to the Rock so he and Cena could main event again, this time with the title on the line. This was one of the many issues that reportedly led to CM Punk walking out a few months later.

Now, let's move away from the Rock for a bit and talk about Roman Reigns, who was another example of the WWE ramming their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat. Like the Rock, he is part of the venerated Anoa'i Family, who are practically wrestling royalty with how many superstars they've produced (though they're not actually related by blood, but that doesn't matter, as those who marry or are adopted in are still considered full members of the clan).

Roman began as part of the massively popular trio known as the Shield, alongside Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose. And during their two year run, the Shield were kind of incredibly awesome. Three badasses closer than brothers just wrecking a path of destruction against all those who stood in their way, a perfect combination of violence and genuine comradery...right until Seth Rollins betrayed the group and they all became single stars.

Now, despite the WWE having high hopes for all three, Roman was clearly the anointed heir, despite being the least experienced of the three. Unfortunately, they went about this by making him essentially a John Cena clone. Smelling another corporate babyface about to be shoved down their throats, the fans turned on him and turned on him HARD, making him the most loathed face in wrestling for years despite always being treated by the company as a beloved hero. Finally, the decision was made to turn Roman Reigns heel, unleashing his dark side and turning him into the Tribal Chief, a sadistic and manipulative monster who's held an iron grip on the title for literally years. Needless to say, it has been a massive improvement, and he is now quite awesome (though people are sick of how long he's been champion, but that's neither here nor there).

Anyway, heel Roman has been champion for basically forever at this point, and it's been a question of who will eventually be the one to dethrone him, because whoever it is automatically becomes the biggest star in the business. And given what an accomplishment that is, there really can be no place it can happen other than the main event of Wrestlemania.

Enter Cody Rhodes.

Like Roman and the Rock, Cody also comes from a prestigious wrestling family. Cody is the son of the late, great Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream. And this pedigree has weighed heavily on him, both in and out of storyline.

Now, unlike his plain-looking and tubby father, Cody looks like he was grown in a lab to become the perfect WWE wrestler. Movie star looks, an absolutely ripped body, and physical charisma for days. Despite this, his first WWE run didn't go how he wanted. While he saw a fair amount of success, he never seemed to break out of the midcard and was eventually saddled with the loathed Stardust gimmick, which he absolutely hated, and after realizing that things weren't going to change, he decided to bet on himself and leave the WWE to prove everyone wrong.

This ended up working beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

To say that Cody was successful post WWE would be a gross understatement. Rebranding himself as the American Nightmare, Cody became the opposite of everything his father was, dressing in snappy suits and carrying himself in an arrogant, sadistic manner. He worked for a number of places, from TNA to Ring of Honor to New Japan, and saw massive success, winning multiple titles across multiple promotions and building himself as a force to be reckoned with. He was also the impetus for the historically significant All In event, in which a number of wrestlers from a number of different promotions banded together to put on the first non-WWE show to have over ten thousand people in attendance in over twenty years, which eventually led to the creation of AEW, which Cody was an intrinsic part of as well. Needless to say, Cody was cooking.

Unfortunately, his own way of doing things didn't mesh well with the AEW audience, and they turned on him pretty hard after a year or two. Eventually he left to return to the WWE, and a lot of people questioned if he was making a mistake, given how he was treated the last time.

However, his gamble had paid off. His worth had been proved, and now WWE was all in (pun intended) on Cody Rhodes. In contrast to the volatile AEW crowd, the WWE fans welcomed the prodigal son back with open arms. And surprising all cynics (including myself), this love continued strong even after the novelty of Cody Rhodes back wore off, probably bolstered by how carefully his storylines were plotted, some truly killer performances in the ring, and the respect garner by him being an absolutely fucking champ and wrestling Seth Rollins in a Hell in a Cell match despite having a horribly torn pec.

Finally, the WWE had a White Meat babyface that the fans universally accepted and wanted to see more of, and they were going to capitalize. He won the Royal Rumble to rapturous applause and entered in a program with Roman Reigns to challenge him for his title at Wrestlemania. And unlike other challengers, he actually seemed like a credible threat. Much was made about how his father had also challenged for the same title but could never capture it, so he wanted to do what his father couldn't and finish the story. People were behind Cody all the way, and the time seemed right for Roman to finally fall and a new top star to be crowned.

And then Cody lost. Roman cheated, and Cody lost.

Needless to say, people were pissed. However, others said that maybe this was leading to a rematch at the following year's Wrestlemania, making his eventual victory all the sweeter. Certainly, WWE still seemed behind Cody, as he spent the next year in several high profile feuds that kept him looking strong, including going over Brock Lesnar of all people. And again, the fans remained behind him, when in past cases they would have turned on the guy by now. Believe me, this hadn't happened in a very long time.

But not all was well. There were rumbles that the Rock might be queuing up for a return one of these days, possibly to finally face Roman Reigns in another dream match to settle who the true Tribal Chief of the Anoa's family. People had been wanting that match for years, but for it to happen now, upsetting Cody's chance to finally finish his story? Well, that was the worst possible time. However, these rumors seemed to be nothing more than that. Just rumors.

And then CM Punk came back.

Now, Punk is a whole can of worms all in himself, and could easily fill a full post of his own. But the important thing is that he and Cody are very much dark reflections of each other, especially in how both were screwed over by WWE during their first runs, left under dark circumstances, and returned to the fans' adoration. And they both coveted that Wrestlemania main event.

In fact, during an awesome promo battle between the two, Punk specifically pointed out that he intended to do to Cody what the Rock had done to him ten years ago: be that bigger star who came back after not being around for a long time and take that Wrestlemania main event away. And sure enough, during the Royal Rumble, the final two in the ring were CM Punk and Cody Rhodes.

And Cody won. The first man in years to win back to back Rumbles. He singled out Roman Reigns as his target, cementing their Wrestlemania rematch. As for Punk, he had a main event of his own, as he was apparently scheduled to face Seth Rollins for the World Heavyweight Title at night 1 of Wrestlemania. It seemed that both of the prodigal sons were getting their wish!

And then CM Punk got hurt really bad and had to pull out of Wrestlemania.

Well, that sucks, but it shouldn't upset plans too badly. Seth could just wrestle someone else, and Cody's two year story could proceed like everyone wanted.

Well, we all know what happened next.

Yup. It happened. The Rock, likely with the backing of his new position on the TKO's board, had pushed himself into Cody's spot, while Cody (as it appears) will be replacing Punk to take on Seth Rollins instead. A two year story, flushed down the drain. Punk's words had turned out to be prophetic.

And while the fans were cheering in that video, once the buzz had worn off and people realized what had happened, that's when things got nasty. Over the last few days, people have turned on the Rock and turned on him HARD. Rocky sucks chants fill WWE events, #wewantcody trends for days, videos of the Rock get booed, and (unfortunately) even members of his family have gotten caught in the crossfire. People are NOT happy about this direction. Cody is their guy, and right when his story was going to be completed, right when Roman was going to be dethroned by the guy that everyone wanted to see beat him, this happens.

Plus, since then reports have been swirling that this decision was made by the TKO board, not WWE, with the Rock specifically pushing for it to "Save Wrestlemania." Which hasn't exactly warmed people to the idea.

Which is really funny, because the last time Roman Reigns and the Rock shared a ring together, it was in the middle of Roman's disastrous babyface run where the fans hated him, especially in Philadelphia, a city noted for its rebellious fans, and the WWE sent the Rock out to help Roman in hopes of changing their minds.

It didn't work.

And where is Wrestlemania this year? Oh right, Philadelphia.

This is going to be...interesting, to say the least.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

When Paths Diverge - Y.JH

💔Who; Yoon Jeonghan x female reader 💔What; Angst. Established relationship. Break up. Vampires. 💔Wordcount; 2.2k 💔Warnings; Honestly, Jeonghan is not exactly a good person. Though it's not really explored in this. Reader realises that their relationship is not healthy and stands up for herself! References to turning/loss of humanity but no actual descriptions of that. I don't think there's actually anything specific to warn about, but let me know if I'm wrong.

Summary; After decades together, after everything you've been through, you can't believe that this is all it takes for the rose-tinted glasses to slip from your eyes and allow you to see the truth of Yoon Jeonghan, the man you thought you would spend eternity with.

-2024 Masterlist-

AN- I have no idea where this whole idea came from, it just hit me and it was supposed to be more of a quick flashback scene in a fic about them meeting in the future but instead this happened. It's very different to anything I've written in a long time so I hope it's okay. Big thank you to @kwanisms for helping me with the header by supplying Jeonghan pics! 💖

Edited: 21/12/24

“You are not the person I fell in love with anymore,” it's said so simply, so effortlessly, like he's rehearsed those words a thousand times in front of the mirror. Perhaps he has. You wouldn't put it past Jeonghan and his never-ending need to be seen as nothing short of perfection. "You are nothing like the woman I fell in love with those years ago."

“You can't seriously be saying that,” you respond disbelievingly.

“I am. You have changed, my dear, and not for the better.”

“Of course, I've changed, Jeonghan! It's been decades since we met and you turned me in that time! Of course, I've changed!”

“I have not.”

“Maybe that's the problem, Jeonghan. Your inability to make even the slightest changes to yourself and expectation that the world will bend and mould around the shape of you.” You scoff and shake your head while getting up from the couch. He remains seated in the same formal, upright posture he always does.

Unchanged in all his centuries of life.

You had given up your humanity for him, left everything behind for him, yet he can't even relax his posture even once. It isn't the first time you've noticed it, but it is the first time you've ever spoken it aloud, spurred on by his own hurtful words.

“Humans are supposed to change as we grow, Jeonghan.”

“We are not human any longer. I cannot even remember how it feels to be human. Maybe that is the cause of our differences, that you can still recall those memories.” He too gets up and straightens his already neat shirt as his always-so-level gaze meets your upset one.

While it usually settles you to see him so calm regardless of circumstance, always so in control and the voice of reason, now it just hurts.

Even now, during what your entire being knows is the end of your decades-long romance, Jeonghan's expression shows no sign of feeling, well... anything.

Shortly, you try to recall a time when he let his truth show beside the gentle little smiles he's treated you to over the years, yet you can't recall a single memory. You don't know how you've never realised before how much that hurts.

Suddenly, you're struck with the thought that perhaps, you never truly knew Yoon Jeonghan. You had thought that you were his exception; the only person he allowed to see the man behind the mask, yet now you're realising that he has kept even you at arm's length even when you were wrapped up in them and tucked safely against his chest.

You knew, still know, that he cares for you in his own way. You're just now realising that it's not enough and never was.

“Did you think I would become emotionless like you these decades? Is that why you agreed to turn me in the first place? To remove my physical humanity and hope the rest would follow?” Your heart breaks a little more when he only stares silently at you.

There may be no sign of a response from him but Jeonghan is quick-witted and always has a retort; he has never once missed the chance to correct someone. His lack of answer is louder than his words could ever be.

“Right.” You take a deep, steadying breath, making his gaze dart down shortly to your expanding chest before he looks back at you.

You used to think he found your quirk of taking unneeded breaths amusing, or perhaps cute, but now you know the truth; he doesn't look at your chest fond of the sign of the human habit remaining. But in disdain. He's been waiting for you to drop all your links to humanity, yet you refuse.

Humanity may not be a very elegant species and full of flaws, but as a whole, they're good, have morals and work hard to stick to them.

But vampires? Well, after so long living, morals seem to become a rather grey area for them so you've seen.

You always thought Jeonghan was a rare exception to that, but you know you've overlooked more than you should've in the name of love. Not in his actions towards you but to other humans. He's always put himself above humans and so long as you continue to keep your little shreds of humanity in your chest, he'll always see himself as above you too.

“I guess I'll pack up and leave,” you declare, already walking to your shared bedroom.

You don't stop to look around it, take it in for one last time. You already know what you'll see. Signs of the both of you; old mixed with new, him and you. A clear distinction you had stubbornly refused to see for the truth of what is it, two separates that can't make a whole. Not when your edges have been formed in your humanity and the weaker points smoothed over by Jeonghan's hands to fit against his own edges, yet you still have too many sharp points he could never flatten out. You hadn't even realised he was trying to.

“Just like that?” He questions, following you smoothly and watching as you pull out the large case from under the bed, which usually only shows up when he takes the pair of you away on an expensive luxurious holiday somewhere cold in summer. To escape the sun blistering the sensitive vampiric skin covering your bodies.

You have never seen him blister and had never experienced it yourself either as Jeonghan has always swept you both away at the first sign of the sun's heat, but you trusted his words entirely. Trusted him.

It won't be until the coming summer that you realise that he hadn't been entirely truthful. Yes, a vampire's skin is much more sensitive to the sun's rays than a human’s, but it's much less instantaneous than he had made out. The newfound knowledge will make you wonder what else he hadn't been honest about and send you on a task to relearn everything you know about vampirism, and the world in general.

But now.

“Are you expecting me to grovel and beg for you to change your mind and allow me to remain by your side?” You huff, shoving items into the case, though not everything you own because frankly you don't care for all the silks and jewels. That was all Jeonghan wanting you both to always be donned in the best money can buy. “Since when have I begged for anything, Jeonghan?”

“Never.”

“Then I haven't changed as you claim.”

“And you will not?” It's the first time he's outright about his wants here. It makes you pause your harsh packing to look over at him incredulously. “You said that you love me; you tell me every day, my dear, yet you will not even try to tempt me to open my arms again with an offer of change?”

“You think I am the one who should change here? Jeonghan, I gave up my humanity for you, I gave up my family, my friends, my life, everything for you and you think I need to do more to prove my devotion to you?”

“Is that not what love is? Proving one's devotion?”

“Then where are your attempts to prove your own to me?” You point out. “Over the course of this conversation I've come to the rather jarring and honestly heartbreaking realisation that you have not once ever changed for my sake. You've spent decades manipulating my very heart to your own whims yet you remain as stone hearted as ever. Unmouldable. I wish I knew that when we met; that you truly are just the empty shell of a being that man accused you of being. Thinking about it, maybe I should've picked him that night.”

“That man is a vile excuse for a vampire.”

“Is he?” You think of the beautiful, tall man from all those decades ago. He hadn't seemed very vampiric to you at the time and even less so now that you think back on it. He seemed more, human. More like you. “I should've taken his hand and let him save me from you.”

“Save you?” Jeonghan repeats softly. The first sign in this ordeal that he isn't entirely apathetic. “You have never needed saving from me; I have never done a thing to hurt you, nor will I.”

“Not physically at least.”

“There is no other way that matters.”

“The fact you can say that and truly mean it, is perhaps the scariest I've ever seen you, Jeonghan.”

“I do not understand.”

“And that makes it worse.” You turn and get back to your packing. “But at least I finally know you're capable of admitting to weakness.”

“You are my weakness.” That makes you pause again, though you don't turn to him. “I do not want you to leave.”

“I don't want to either, not really, but I can't stay if nothing will change, if you won't change, Jeonghan. I deserve more than that. You always say that I deserve the best; that you'd give me every star in the sky if I wanted them to hold in my hands, but you won't even change your own centuries-old, outdated habits and thoughts for me.”

You pack slower this time, not because you're trying to put it off; you know your departure from the home you can no longer call your own is inevitable. You're moving slower because it's finally starting to catch up with you and bloom saltwater in your eyes. You're trying to stop it from falling any faster and hoping that your own movements will slow the descent at least until you are out of the door. It will only hurt worse to be the only one crying again when he should be crying with you. But you know he won't. He never has.

“I do not know if I can do that, my love.”

“Then I can't stay. If you ever manage, I'm sure you will find a way to let me know.”

“You really are leaving? With no intention of seeing me again?”

“Not unless you change. I can't be the only one trying to be a better version of myself for the other.” You shove a final jumper into the case and zip it up.

You don't really have anything sentimental to keep, it all reminds you of Jeonghan and when he had turned you, he convinced you to let go of all reminders of your past as it would only hurt too much. You had believed him at the time, had full faith and hadn't taken a single memento of your family or human life. Though now you just think he was trying to make you lose all ties to your humanity to change you at your core, not to protect your delicate heart.

“Where will you go?” He asks, stopping you from leaving the bedroom by standing in the doorway and putting a hand on your arm. You brush him off though don't look at him, you can't.

If you had, you would've seen the pain starting to seep into his eyes.

“A hotel, I have enough money to do that until I decide where to make a home for myself.”

“You will not go far, will you? I cannot bear the thought of such a distance between us.”

“So I should suffer for you instead?”

“No.”

“Then let me go without a fuss, you owe me that much at least.”

Jeonghan is quiet for long enough that you almost lift your lowered damp gaze to look at him, yet he speaks just in time to prevent you from doing so.

He doesn't know that you are about to look up and see real emotion in his eyes for the first time, that you would seen his heartbreak and immediately reconsider leaving. If he had known, he would stay quiet longer and let you see him for the first time.

But he doesn't know, so he opens his mouth and speaks quietly. “I owe you a lot more, I am starting to understand that now,” he admits. “I will not stop you again, just know that I will be here waiting for you to come back. I shall do everything I can to change myself but this is our home, my love, and it will remain this way ready to welcome you back when I discover out how to prove myself to you. You can change it however you like when you return, but until then, it shall remain this way.”

“Don't do that.” You frown. “I won't want to return to this.”

“I thought you love our home?”

“I do now, but I won't then. To find it unchanged will just remind me of the past. Let it change with you, reflect you and if you find me one day and bring me back, I can add pieces of me back into it again.”

“If that is what you want.” You nod and adjust your grip on your case. “I love you; I wish it was enough.”

“Me too, Jeonghan.” Your lips press together tightly to prevent more words from spilling from them in amongst the sobs threatening to bubble out into the thick air between you, and you walk past him the second he steps aside.

The front door of the house is barely closed behind you before the tears start to flow. You stop to take a shuddering wet gasp before rushing to your car to throw the case into the back and drive.

You don't know where you're going, you don't know what will happen but you hope with everything in you that one day, you'll find yourself back on the same path as Jeonghan and meet a man changed for the better.

A/N- Don't be shy to let me know what you think! As I said in my author note at the top, I don't really write stuff like this, all serious angsty type things but if I know people like it, I will try to write more in the future!

[watchyourbuck]

hey~ no10 from the prompt list, if you feel like it~ 💛

Eddie knew Buck like the back of his hand.

No, that was an understatement. He knew him like his own heartbeat.

Every single look, or stance, or smile. Every single thought. Buck could bend over backwards trying to hide something from him, but he could only ever do it unsuccessfully. Eddie knew Buck. The real Buck.

So, truly, it shouldn’t have been such a shock.

“Who is he?”

Buck seemed taken aback, momentarily stunned by three simple words. “E-excuse me?”

“The guy,” Eddie continued, his body on automatic and his thoughts far. “The one leaving hickeys on your neck. Who is he?”

The indifference of it all made the firehouse cold, sending a chill up and down Buck’s spine. His eyes turned to Eddie, who kept stacking supplies.

It’s not that he didn’t have an answer. A name, more accurately. But still, how did he know?

Silence invaded their space, like a drama scene from a movie where the backgrounds blurs. It was uncomfortable, a hollow little piece of dialogue he wasn’t aware he was assigned.

It must’ve been too long. Eddie’s arms went down, the pile of bandages forgotten, just mere inches away from his face. “Who is he, Buck?”

“No one,” he replied, much more centered this time.

The change in tone made Eddie purse his lips, suddenly aware of the fact that he was being pushed off. Buck didn’t wanna tell him.

He nodded, a minor scoff creeping up his throat. His mouth bent downwards. “No one you wanna tell me about.”

The implication was broad, and pointy. Buck was dating, or he wasn’t. He was in love, or he wasn’t. The only safe haven was that he was fucking. Eddie would put his hands to the fire on that one.

Ironic, innit?

“Could be a she,” Buck said, avoiding his stare.

“No, it couldn’t.”

“How do you know?”

Because I’d mark you like that, too.

Eddie sighed, running his hands through his hair. The rest of the firehouse was running smoothly, completely oblivious to them, or their words. How could anyone not notice Eddie’s heart bleeding into its own?

“Forget it,” he mumbled, short of biting his tongue. There was a moment in time where the beggar had to stop begging; where the needy had to stop needing. It was time. Time to let him go.

Buck’s reached for Eddie’s shoulder, stopping him in place. He added no pressure, so if the man wanted to bail, he could. “You don’t get to do that, Eddie.”

This time, the scoff did come out. Angry and bitter, and all the bad feelings you’re supposed to swallow. “Do what, exactly?”

“Run away.”

“What?”

“He’s no one,” he said rashly, running his tongue over his front teeth. “He can be no one.”

It was tough to follow. Buck’s eyes gave away his feelings, but not the meaning of his words. Eddie frowned, taking a step closer. Buck’s hand fell to the side, brushing along the skin on Eddie’s wrist. “What do you mean?”

Buck blinked, his breathing heavy. It was now or never. He grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him.

Sharp. Fast. Telling.

“If you want me, he can be no one.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Please take this as my Fuck It Friday!

tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @callmenewbie @eddiebabygirldiaz & @eowon thank you so much! College’s beating my ass rn but it’ll get to your works shortly!✨💗

tagging in return @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @malewifediaz @housewifebuck @bucksbirthmark @your-catfish-friend @butraura @cowboy-eddie @buckleyobsessed @disasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @jamespearce9-1-1 @smilingbuckley & @wildlife4life 💗

[rubra-wav]

Husk x shy/insecure reader? Him helping reader be more confident and to stand up for themself!

Maybe even a lil scene where he calls them out for always agreeing to everything without second thought, calling them naive (and maybe stupid. He is a bit rough). They could react by either crying and confessing they hate conflict and thats why they do that, or they could whisper the confession (no tears, up to you).

Husk x shy/insecure reader : Above Whispers

A/N I wasn't sure if this was supposed to romantic or platonic so I went with platonic, sorry.

I NEED to remake this banner istg

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, Husker is tough loving in his callout (idk how to tag it properly)

- You'd been a resident of the hotel for several months, during this time catching the eye of the resident bartender.

- You quietly did as you were told, never raising your voice even when it was obvious you didn't want to do something or didn't agree with something someone was saying.

- Anything to avoid conflict.

- These things not only irritated the bartender about you but also concerned him.

- He'd pushed several times intentionally testing the waters with you, and you hadn't done a single thing against it, just going along with his will.

- A sinner like you would be taken advantage of sooner rather than later in hell, possibly even by certain other residents.

- On multiple occasions, he had forced more malevolent forces Alastor to stay away from you, but it was clear he'd be working himself until the end of time to keep you from falling into someone's clutches if you didn't actually change yourself.

- Despite Husk's more apathetic side telling him to stay out of it, he confronted you upon it after a long day of group activities, cornering you to speak with you.

- You looked up at Husk in slight discomfort as he stood in front of you in the shittily carpet lined hallway looking very serious. Despite being a rather cute looking demon, all things considered, he was still intimidating.

- "That whole time you were letting that overly obnoxious bleeding heart push you around like a lost puppy." Husk said bluntly.

- You jolted like you'd been zapped at his words, going to try and protest that you just didn't mind, really, but you were cut off short.

- "You aren't foolin' me with the 'oh it's fine' bullshit. Drop it and be honest." Husk took a step forward towards you, watching you starting to shake slightly, eyes going misty.

- You shuffled uncomfortably, looking away with clear discomfort, chest aching at being called out. You just wanted to disappear.

- "..You're right." Your lip quivered as you fought and failed to keep your voice from quivering like the rest of you. "I hate causing issues. It doesn't matter if I'm uncomfortable as long as there's no negative attention on me, I-"

- Husk's hand came to rest on your shoulder, cutting you off from rambling. You looked up to his yellow eyes, clearly a vision of irritation bordered by his bushy eyebrows. "You're naive and fucking stupid." He announced, startling you.

- You sighed heavily, a tear slowly sliding down your cheek. You slowly nodded in agreement after a couple of seconds of heavy silence, prompting the demon's ear to twitch.

- "Dont agree! Fight against me! You need to get over this complete avoidance of confrontation!" Husk pat his hand on your shoulder. "This shit in hell is just going to get you either shackled to someone for all eternity like I am or fucking killed!"

- You were surprised to watch him go from annoyance to seemingly being extremely concerned for your safety so quickly. Husk was concerned about showing as much as well, forcing his face to be a mask of indifference and taking his hand off of you.

- He looked back at you coolly as he turned away to leave. "Do what you want, but don't come crying to me when you end up owned. God knows I have enough suckers whining to me in this dump." He grumbled, walking away with heavy steps.

- You stood in place, thinking about his words and the actions from him that you now registered as him trying to help you out of the situations you had gotten yourself into.

- He was right, and you knew it. It wouldn't be easy to get yourself out of being a yes-man, but.. something inside you had the feeling the overly pessimistic bartender would help you through it.

- Husk on the other hand, was facepalming about it. He just knew he'd be cursing himself for caring about another one.

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Red Letter

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, Eris being Eris, gender neutral reader, reader has some personality in this one, comfort, fluff, angst (?), mentions violence (eye plucking), flashback scene, may include annoying use of "my" a lot, includes a picture of a simple sponge cake (because why not? You'll see~)

A/n: So I happened to come across those Chad skits from SNL (yeah, I know I'm late to the party) and I was also thinking of how Eris met the reader. So this is kind of a prequel to Weasel In, I guess? I highly suggest reading Part 1 before this, but do as you like. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0 (you're here!), Part 1, Part 2

There were many times in your life when you almost regretted taking this 9-to-5 customer service job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~” you sing into the phone. “How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?” 

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

You hear a growling male voice on the line groan, “Oh god, keep talking–”

You immediately hang up.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

Professionalism, be damned. Yeah no. You definitely regret taking this job. How did you even get this job anyway? Well, however you got it, unfortunately, it just pays too well for you to just up and quit now.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

Then again, being an anonymous voice on the other side of the line is far better than your last job, where you had to wait tables for the mafioso in a very, very scandalously short waitress outfit. You were quite popular because of your unintentional moe gap where you would say some of the cringiest lines in history in a cutesy voice while wearing the stiffest expression. It wasn’t on purpose, the facial muscles on your face just don’t work the way most people’s do.

There are times you think about staff, especially Remy,  the most buffest and nicest chef you have ever met. As much as you wanted to stay with them at the time, you were sure that sooner or later you'd be kidnapped by one of those criminals if you continued to work there.

…..

Well, you technically did get kidnapped, which proved your point. That’s a story for another time.

Back to the point, when you left that job, left everyone and everything behind, you made sure you left without a single trace. You had to. The slightest crumb left behind could have created a scent trail all the way back to you, and you would have been left with only one way out…

You shake your head and body, ridding yourself of those kinds of thoughts. It’s time to re-focus on maintaining your character for your next caller.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hiiii~ Cherry, Cherry here! How are youuuu~?”

“Salutations, this is Blueberry, sweetheart~ And you?

Although your face lacks the ability to show emotion, internally you smile at the voices of your coworkers, who must endure the same cringiness of stating their work names aloud. When else would one be able to call themselves fruit names?

… Well, you suppose Cherry would, since that is her actual name. How she hasn’t been kidnapped by any of her callers in this godforsaken city is gosh darn miracle in your book.

Your company, Fruity Friends, was created by some previously closeted man, who felt people needed someone—a complete stranger—to share intimate details of their love lives with, without the fear of being outed. Apparently, it was an idea that conjured up during his break at work when he once sat in the restroom stall and spoke to a floating voice who gave him advice to confess to his long-time highschool crush turned coworker. He found out who the voice belonged to, but lo and behold, he ended up getting married to his long-time crush, and thus, with the amount of money and influence he possessed, the company was born.

A noble endeavor, no doubt, but, in your opinion, he might've failed to account for the… inappropriate individuals who you feel should’ve gone into proper therapy instead of taking advantage of a nice-sounding voice. Seriously, the lengths these hooligans go through just to harass other people… Then again, these are often the very people who pay your bills, so who are you to complain?

You hang up the phone with a satisfied sigh, having finished another long call. You had given them the advice to make a list and check it twice before going ahead with their big proposal to their lover. You interlace your fingers and stretch your arms out in front of you. Time to take a—

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“A-ah… um… h-hi there… I'm… Eris… um…”

If you weren’t a professional, you would have squealed out loud. The rowdy ones are common, but the quiet and meek ones are so adorable! Some of your most loyal clientele had started out as nervous wrecks, which means you have quite a few scripted lines to choose from. Although this one chose the most basic package, according to the call line, you always bring your best.

“Hello Eris~ What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you! How are you?”

You hear him mumbling to himself on the line before he comes back. “Um… is this… really… uh… confidential?”

Ah… Sometimes, they turn out to be one of those perverted bastards like the one earlier. This one sounds too cute, it would be such a shame…

“Why yes, of course, my dear Eris! Everything you say here is completely safe with me. And if you don't believe me, then believe in the contract that had brought us together. There is nothing you say that can be taken as evidence! Rest assured, you are safe here with me, here at Fruity Friends.”

You hear him gasp. “O-oh…okay… Um… I-I'm… your dear Eris?”

Aww, how cute! You hope this customer becomes one of your loyal clientele. Still keeping up your cutesy persona, you answer, “Why yes. And I am your Lychee~”

“O-oh… M'kay… my Lychee…”

You pause, quickly mute the phone for a moment, and squeal to your heart’s content for just a second, before unmuting the phone.

From then on, Eris would return and call for you every single day for months, except for the weekends. Calls could only last about an hour, as per the package deal, since that was the company policy to accommodate multiple customers per day— unless they were willing to pay for the package multiple times. 

On the following Mondays, he'd call in to check up on you and pout about how much he missed you and wished you could talk to you all day every day. And you, in your persona, would reply that you wished you could talk to him all day as well.

It did occur to you how Eris somehow had the funds to completely take up your entire work time. And even stranger is how so far your manager hasn’t complained at all… Well, you’re making your rent on time so it doesn’t matter, right?

Besides, you quite enjoy your conversations with Eris. Once he became more comfortable, he started asking about all kinds of topics, ranging from philosophical takes such as:

“Which is better to eat first first? Steak or salad?”

“Depeeeends! I heard Americans usually eat salads before steaks and the French eat steak before salad. So it's up to you, really, ya know?”

“I see! … Hey, do you think graham crackers are cookies or crackers? I think they are crackers, but what does my Lychee think?”

To things that happened to him recently:

“LyCheeEeeEe!” he whines on the other side of the phone, voice clearly indicating he's been crying. “My LycheEee.”

You play along. “WhaAaaAt, my dear ErIsssSss?”

“T-there…” he sniffs. “There was-was this guy…”

“Awww, noo! What did this mean guy do, my dear Eris? Tell your Lychee.”

You start noticing recently that it seems once a week, Eris would encounter some mean dude who'd insult him and then he'd come to you for comfort. How he always ends up in such situations is beyond you.

And he's always… always does something about it a week later.

“My LycheEeeE.”

“YeeSsss, my dear Erisss?

“You know that one guy… you know the one I told you last week who I keep meeting in the subway, the one who kept saying I keep looking at him funny and kept shoving me?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“I finally ripped his eyeballs out!” he says, almost shrieking from excitement. “So he can't tell who's looking at him wrong or right anymore! Isn't that great??”

Your mouth falls open in shock, only to close it and consider the next words that should come out. Due to the confidentiality clause, unfortunately, whatever a customer says is not liable to use as evidence. Even if it means allowing… crimes like these to continue.

“That's greeaaaat!“ you answer, your throat tight. “You feel better now, don't you, my dear Eris?”

“I do, I do! Hehe~”

Such a troubling life, he has. Even if there is a person you could talk to, you'd never admit that sometimes… sometimes listening to him makes you feel better about your uneventful life, only having to worry about keeping your job, keeping a roof over your head, and keeping your belly full.

Besides, what's there to worry about? Your identity is unknown and your persona is too friendly to get on anyone's nerves.

-----

[Some time later…]

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“LYchEeeeE! My LyCheeEee.”

Oh, his feelings got hurt again. What is it this time?” “YeeEeesss, my dear Eris? What's wrong? Tell your Lychee.”

You listen to him bawl his eyes, cooing and offer your sympathies, like a mother to a child.

“M-my best friend… he said…  he said…”

Oh, his best friend. Eris has never revealed his friend's name, but based on the description he gives you, sometimes you wonder why someone sweet and innocent— albeit a little violent— like Eris was friends with someone like that…

“Aww, no! Was he being a meanie again? What did he say?”

“He said… that I should get a life and stop talking to you.”

You feel your heart drop. “R-really? He said that?”

Ah… well. It isn't the first time a customer has left you, or rather left Lychee due to personal reasons.

Lychee is a cute person, someone who likes to hang out with their friends, who likes to party all day and all night, who likes to share the most scandalous gossip from their supposed life. Lychee is someone who wants everyone to like them and to help people get through difficult times…

But in the end, Lychee isn't a real person. Lychee couldn't leave their job to hang out with friends. Lychee couldn't attend parties and weddings. Lychee couldn't fall in love. Lychee was just a faceless voice who only spoke once you paid the price, and even then only for an hour or two out of the entire day.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about all of that. Who has time to party and hang out with friends and share other people's business when you have no safety net to fall back on if you were ever to go jobless? Forget about reputation, you were already used to people making assumptions based on your stoic appearance.

That being said, it wasn't like it didn't hurt when your customers got on with their lives. It was just… inevitable, and you had long since accepted that. Perhaps, this was a sign that it was time for Lychee's Eris to move on. He's spent over thousands of dollars just to speak to you over several hours per day over a span of four months already, single handedly paying your entire rent. As a fellow human who has to work their ass off in order to live, you can't bear to become the reason he goes broke.

“Yeah… but I don't want to! I love talking to you, my Lychee! And you love talking to me too, right? So I don't see why he’s telling me to have a life. I am living! Ugh, stupid…”

You mull over all kinds of lines but in the end, you whisper, “... Maybe, he's right.”

….. 

“What?”

“Listen, Eris-”

“Your Eris. I'm your dear Eris. Right? Right?”

His voice sounds sharp and metallic… you've ‘slipped’ up a few times, and he'd always softly correct you with his usual whiny voice. Not like this.

You cough, getting back into character. “Yesss, you’re absolutely right! My dear Eris. Sorry~ LiSteeEeen. As much as I love talking to you, I think that you're spending way too much money on me! I feel flattered and all, but I’m scared you're going to go bankrupt at some point!”

Silence on the phone… until you hear him cackle loudly like you had just told him the funniest joke ever. Moments later you hear him again. “Aha… ah… Is that what you were worried about, my Lychee? Aww, you're the best~ That's why I… But don't worRrrRry~ As the eldest son in my family, I inherited everything after my parents died. Enough to last me years to the point I don’t even need to work. Money isn't an issue at all, my Lychee.”

A bitter taste on your tongue. “Bas-” You clear your throat, the curse word almost slipped from under your persona. “Bestieee, even if money isn't the issue, your mental health must be taking a toll with all those troublemakers you have to deal with a lot. Other than your best friend and of course me, your Lychee, do you ever talk to anyone else?”

“... Why should I? I only need you, don't I? Also, I'm not your ‘bestieee’, I'm your Eris.”

“R-Right, my dear Eris~ I'm just saying. One day you'll want to… you know? Hug someone, hold hands, kiss, or even just… be next to someone. In person. We both know, I can’t do that for you. Don't you want a more… authentic relationship or friendship with someone? Besides your best friend. Besides me.”

A pause. “... Is this part of your character?”

You blink. “What do you mean, my dear Eris? What character?”

“... Huh… Come to think of it… I’ve never thought about it before, but Lychee’s not your real name, right?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. “... Ehhh? But it is! I wouldn't lie to you, my dear Eris.”

Another pause. “… This line is confidential, right?”

“Mmhm! Always have been!”

“Then what’s your real name?”

Your free hand wraps around the cloth of your pants as you hold the phone against your ear. “I… My dear Eris, I told you. It’s Lychee. Your Lychee!”

You hear him sigh, before he suddenly hangs up. You look at your phone, very confused and worried. He has never hung up on you just like that before. Did he just… leave?

After several weeks of no calls from him, you figure he finally did leave. Fortunately, there are always new callers on the line along with some really loyal customers who've been patiently waiting for you to pay them some attention. While it bothers you, at the same time, it sort of relieves you. He must be finally living his life now, instead of spending it all on you.

…..

It’s a shame though… He was such a charming fellow, so open with his emotions and sweet with his words. It was… different from your other customers. Somehow.

Once you finish your 9-5 job for the day, you bid your coworkers goodbye, drag yourself out of the office to the bus stop, wait for the bus, get on the bus, wait until your stop, get off your stop, drag yourself home, enter your home, lock your door, and collapse on your couch, still in your work uniform. Same as usual. Why your company felt it was necessary to have a uniform when your job only requires your voice is beyond you.

You close your eyes and let yourself be whisked away to dreamland… 

.

.

.

.

.

Shick shick shick shick!

You wake up at 3AM, according to a glance at your clock, to the odd sound of… whisking? You slowly sit up, get off the couch, walk to the source of the noise, and find a handsome young man standing in the kitchen, whisking away at some white fluff in a bowl.

You rub your eyes and blink several times, wondering if you’re still asleep. What the heck am I looking at?

The man stops whisking and looks at you. He smiles bashfully. “My Lychee-”

WOW! Has it really happened? You’ve finally reached the point you’ve overworked your mind and body to exhaustion! And now you’re either hallucinating things at 3AM or you’re in the middle of a nightmare! There’s only one person in the world who calls you that and there is no way in hell Eris would be in your kitchen at 3AM, covered in flour, and smiling at you like this is all normal! WOW!

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hard.

Eris gasps, dropping the bowl of whipped cream on the counter. He grabs onto your hands and inspects your face with a worried expression. “Lychee! Are you okay? Why did you slap yourself?”

His hands feel oddly very real and your cheeks oddly hurt really bad… but there's absolutely no way Eris is actually in my home, right? Wake up wake up wake up-

“Lych–No, I should say (Y/n), right? I would call you my (Y/n), but you're already mine, so–”

Oh, heck no.

You take your hands back and head out of the kitchen, take out your phone from your pocket, and quickly tap on the screen.

Briiing. Briiing. Tch!

“Local Police Department, how may we–”

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand. You throw your hand out towards it, only for Eris to take several steps back and hold your phone out of reach. He looks at the phone and immediately hangs it up and tosses it somewhere on the ground. Then he moves so quickly you don't have time to react until he's wrapped you in his arms. He places his head on your shoulder, his lips tickling your neck. “(Y/n)... Don’t do that. I missed you… so, so much… ”

You can only stand there, hands awkwardly hanging there at your sides, trying to absorb the bizarreness of this situation. “W-why are you here? H-how’d you get in?”

“Never mind that, your dear Eris is here now.”

You take deep breaths. “Eris…”

“That's me~ I'm your Eris~”

“Right… Uh, could you… let me go?”

“I don’t wannaaaa.”

Your eyes look all over the place, as if looking for a camera that’ll pop out and announce that this is all just some elaborate prank. Except there are none, and this is all very real.

You clear your throat, collecting yourself. “Okay… Fine… Listen. I… I think I get why you’re here. It’s because you like Lychee, right?” you try to reason. “Well, sorry, but bad news is, I'm not anything like Lychee. Lychee is just a character.”

“I know.”

You purse your lips, and then say, “Okay… so that means you don’t know me. Me. We’re strangers! You have no reason to be here! Get off me!”

He lets go of you but slides his hands down to your arms. You’re unable to pull away. What’s with this strength?

“Eh? That’s not true!” he says. You're (Y/n). You like (favorite animal), (favorite fruit), (favorite TV show), (favorite dish), (favorite pos–)”

You begin to sweat as you listen to him list of all of your favorite items, before moving on places you’ve ordered food from, to private details, such as your age, your highschool, your address, your family home address, even your Social Security number–Who the heck is this man and how did he find these things out?

“–and that’s all I have so far. What do you think, (Y/n)?”

“Get out.”

“Nooooooooo!”

He pulls you into a hug again, as if to emphasize the point that he’s not going anymore. You try to twist and turn your way out, but you find his grasp to be extremely difficult to get out of, despite how gentle he’s being with you.

“(Y/n)... You know…” he mumbles into your shoulder, making you still. “For the last few days, I finally realized what you meant the last time we talked. It’s true. One day, I will want to be with someone. In person. Hold hands with them. Hug them. Kiss them…”

He leans into your ear and whispers, “But I have also realized that I would only want that… with you. Only you. I love you, (Y/n).”

…..

“I’m… sorry,” you stutter. “I don’t…”

“Oh, that’s okay!” He releases you and steps back again, interlocking his fingers with yours this time. A blush appears across his cheeks as he bashfully looks up at you with his head tilted down shyly. “We can start over. Today can be our Day 1?”

His fingers have incredible strength, again you’re unable to escape their gentle grip. “What? Day 1 of what?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” he says, softly swinging your hands side to side. “Day 1. Dating.”

…..

“Who says we’re dating?” you screech, wanting so badly to rip your hands away from this deranged man.

“Eh?? What do you… Ohhh! I haven't asked you properly yet, huh? Sorry, love. Will you date me?”

“No! We've just met!”

“Oh.” You can see the cogs turning in his head, before he tilts his head and giggles. “But that’s exactly why we should date. People date to get to know each other more. Silly, (Y/n). But if you need further convincing: as you can see I’m handsome, and I have money! Lots of it! You’ll never have to work a day in your life. I’ll be the best boyfriend for you.”

Tempting as that sounds, the idea of placing your life into the hands of someone else just like that? Hah! No thanks. “No.”

The cogs are turning again before he reaches another answer in his head. “Ohhh, I get it! I'm so dumb! It took me so long to realize… You haven’t realized you love me too, right? That's okay. I can wait. Hehe~”

You stare at him incredulously, speechless. What the he-

Ding!

“Oh!” He drags you back into the kitchen before letting your hands go to don your oven mitts and take out a freshly baked cake to flip it over a rack. “Ta da~! Mmm, sorry. I was hoping to decorate it before you woke up but… well, who needs frosting anyway, right?”

You place a hand against your forehead “What… why?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Eh? Did you forget? Oh, love. It’s your birthday today. Happy birthday, (Y/n)!”

-----🔔-----

[Many, many years ago…]

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear (Y/n)~ Happy birthday to you~ Now, make a wish!”

You close your eyes, make your wish, and blow all the candles out in one go, ensuring your wish will come true as it always does every year.

You receive two presents to open. One from your Mom and one from your Dad. That’s how it always is on your birthday, or your Mom or Dad's birthdays. Just the three of you. No one else. Even now in your teens, your birthday party has only three members and there is nothing more that could make you happier.

After a fun-filled birthday, you went to sleep so peacefully that you didn't wake up the next day. Your parents decide to go grocery shopping without you, letting you rest in because it’s a Saturday.

It was a normal day. Just a normal day.

Sometime after you wake up, you hear heavy knocking at the door. Curious, you open it and find the police. They come bearing heavy news.

There was a drunk driver on the road.

Your parents didn’t make it.

Your wish didn't come true.

-----🔔-----

[Present…]

No matter how many candles you blew out, your wish didn’t come true. It didn’t the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. It would never, ever come true ever again, and at some point you just stopped celebrating your birthday altogether.

“(Y-Y/n)? Do you not like it? I’m s-sorry…”

Your vision turns blurry as memories flood into your mind. Your eyes fill with hot tears to the point it flows down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, your face twists in agony as you try to stop the dam from breaking in front of a stranger, but your knees give out instead.

Eris catches you and you both slowly sink to the ground. He holds your head gently against his shoulder, letting you cry out years worth of contained sorrows and to your heart's content as he pats you on the head, cooing at you and offering you words of comfort. He doesn’t understand, but at least you aren’t pushing him away.

Once you run out of tears to cry, you whisper with a broken voice, “Thank you… for the cake.”

“Anytime, my love, anytime.”

“... I'm not… your love.”

“Shh, shh… Take it easy… I'm here for you…”

“Idiot… Just leave me alone…”

“M’kay.”

…..

“I said leave me alone. Why are you still here?”

“Mm… because I don't think you want me to leave you alone right now?” he offers.

You sigh, giving up completely.

…..

Grumble…

“(Y/n), before I go, would you like to eat some cake?”

“... No thanks.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I also got a present for you too.”

“Don't want it.”

“Can't return it, I'm afraid,” he sighs. “It cost so much too…”

“... Fine. I'll take your stupid gift and eat your stupid cake.”

“Yay~”

[destielbeatlesminibang]

Title: While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Author: eyesofatragedy67

Artist: witchy-worm

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Cas's deal with the Empty broke Dean's heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn't get him out.

They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.

But Dean's got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.

And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester & Original Female Character, Past Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Canon Divergent After Episode 15x18, Fix It Fic, No Rebar Was Used In the Making of This Fic, The Empty Deal, Songfic, Dean Winchester POV, Non-linear Storytelling, Flashbacks, Nightmare Containing Non-Graphic Suicide, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester/Castiel First Kiss, Cas Gets By With A Little Help From His Friends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Loosely Inspired By Across the Universe, Finale What Finale

Posting on June 26

Keep reading for a short excerpt.

Arms laden with bags, Dean carefully closes the hood of Baby's trunk and makes his way to the bunker entrance. The lock sticks a little as he turns his key, and he makes a mental note to get some lead shavings so he can loosen it back up.

As he steps inside, he hears laughter echoing off the walls and quietly sets the bags down so he can have a moment to himself, a moment to just enjoy his loved ones taking a well-deserved break after the insanity of Michael and Belphegor and a fucking zombie apocalypse.

He can see Sam's mane of L’oréal commercial hair tossing as he uproariously laughs at something Cas said. Dean doesn't catch it, but whatever it is probably isn't meant to have Sam giggling like the teenage girl he is.

The look on Cas's face is one Dean has a strong affection for. That confused puppy head tilt that is sometimes genuine bafflement, but other times his way of indulging his favorite humans. Dean would give a lot to keep looks like that on Cas's face. Fuck knows he's been the cause of enough sadness and disappointment for the guy. Seeing him happy, at home, is everything to Dean.

But he can't tell Cas that. He can never tell Cas that he wants him to have every ounce of happiness he deserves.

Because he can't lose him. Dean can't lose the goddamn love of his life to happiness. And how fucked up is that?

So he takes these moments as he gets them. He treasures every single fucking smile, every small laugh, every gentle touch… and he doesn't say the words that have been scorching him from the inside for so damn long.

Some day that deal Cas made – the one Dean isn't supposed to know about – is going to come out in the wash, and Dean is going to lose one of the most vitally important people in his life.

But not today, dammit.

Dean smiles down at them, quietly chuckling as Jack walks into the room with a look so similar to Cas's that it's hard to see Lucifer in the kid now.

Leaning on the banister railing, Dean just watches them for a bit. There's nothing perishable in the bags, so there's no reason he can't just sit back and soak in this scene of his chosen family doing normal family shit.

The love he sees there, and the love he's hiding, are weights in his chest that he's not willing to give up. He'll fucking fight for them; he'll blow up the goddamn world if it means he gets to hold onto this.

He swipes away the stupid man tear that’s trailing down his face and focuses on the now. Because moments like this are what keep him going. This ragtag bunch of idiots are his motivation.

He'll be damned if he's gonna lose them. Even if it means he loses a bit of his heart in the process.

[auspicioustidings]

Make your own way home

Summary: Short little drabble of what happens a few weeks after that ending cut scene.

CW: Dubcon/non-con by virtue of spirit possession.

If there was ever an example of wrong place, wrong time, you think you were it. The trip alone to the Highlands was supposed to be a journey of self-discovery. It was supposed to calm your mind, let you meditate in nature and find some peace. Not be in your head so much.

And now here you were, in your head. Stuck in your head. 

You hadn’t ever really given much thought to whether you believed in ghosts or not. You thought of them as something from horror films, always creeping in the dark and spooking young couples in their new house. You had never considered that they could be out in the hills during the daylight, waiting for a warm body to commandeer. 

And he had commandeered you without too much of a fight. For a few hours you had wrestled him for control, but his will was overpowering. It didn’t help that whoever had rudely put themselves in the driver's seat was an arse.

Let me out

“Cannae dae that, got places to be.” 

It’s my body!

“Our body hen.”

No, absolutely not, this is not a communist body, this is single ownership

“In that case, it’s my body” he laughed, seemingly finding your screaming in your (his?) head amusing.

It is NOT

“Let me see if I have a pretty wee body tae match my pretty wee voice.”

You could only watch as he took your body to the lakeside and peered into the glassy surface. It was bizarre, watching your own face light up in a grin that looked nothing like yours. He seemed pleased with what he was looking at, and you thought if you were in control you might have blushed. In fact, you knew that to be the case seeing a dusting of colour appear. Interesting, your body at least still reacted to your emotions. 

“Fuck me, look at this,” he all but purred, a hand coming to squeeze at your chest.

Oh, oh it wasn’t just your emotions that your body still reacted to. You felt the touch as if it was someone else’s hand on you and you certainly felt the sick little bolt of pleasure from it. The little bit of excitement of how horribly wrong this was. 

“Dinnae tempt me hen, told ye we have places to be. Once we get there we can play together as long as ye want.”

You could not think of a single thing to say to that and you almost felt a sense of motion sickness when your body started moving again, trekking through the mountains at a pace you would never go at. You tried everything. You pictured a battering ram to try and smash through to get control and he responded by putting thoughts in your shared headspace of the ramming turning lewd. You sang obnoxiously and he only joined in using your voice, delighted with how it sounded. You gave him the silent treatment and got so painfully bored of it that within 30 minutes you were back to just wailing in your head. 

“Ye know, they dinnae usually stay.”

What do you mean?

“When we take a body, the previous tenant disnae usually stick around.”

Am I going to die?

“Naw if ye dinnae want that. Even if ye did, might keep ye around. If ye behave might even let ye have control for a wee bit, would ye like that?”

If being possessed was not terrifying enough, the concept that the thing possessing you one, had plenty of experience and two, had never had anyone survive was making you feel sick. You felt that feeling in your body and he felt it too if his confused little grunt was anything to go by.

“Come on hen, be nice,” he said, not stopping but shoving a hand unceremoniously into your pants to rub gently. “Just relax.”

It was an insane feeling, you touching yourself but it actually being someone else controlling the movements. He wasn’t going fast, the languid pace seemingly aiming to soothe more than anything. It was wild that it sort of worked, that sick feeling fading out to a hazy rolling pleasure that was only just a gentle simmer.

At some point you felt your thoughts drift off to a strange sleep even though your body was still awake and moving. When you felt consciousness leak back in, you could see yourself approaching a house. 

“Look who's finally awake! Good timing princess” he said. You could hear the exhaustion in your voice, you wondered if he had let himself and the body sleep at all. Maybe if the body slept, you could wrestle back control.

You watched as your hand came to knock at the door. Watched it open to reveal a huge man in a skull balaclava. Watched and very much felt when your body launched at him, pushing the mask up to get your lips on his. He reacted as if he knew you, holding your body tight and laughing into your lips.

“Knew you’d make your own way home.”

“Always do LT.”

[yu-ekki]

A few LADS-focused scenarios/hc I don't know whether to put it in a fic or to draw them but I need to get this out regardless

In no particular order! (putting a page break because this gets long and i don't want to clog the tags)

While they get along well, there were a few very rare times Luke and Kieran squabbled with each other, which then resulted in a series of borderline worrying instances where MC genuinely believed that the twins really want to end the other.

.

One of the instances involves Kieran asking for MC's help to get the smallest and spiciest chili/pepper she can get her hands on in Linkon (because he doesn't want to alert a single soul in the N109 zone). Even though confused by the request, MC did so, which is how she finds herself trying to stop Kieran from gobbling the entire bag of ghost chili peppers in one go in her kitchen later that day. Him explaining that its to get even with Luke did not help lessen the confusion.

.

Whenever MC wants to get something for Sylus online (regardless whether its meant to a gift or her trying to prank him), she tells him to 'look away' for a certain period of time. It did nothing to hide the surprise from him, but he did uphold his promise.

.

On one occasion, Xavier and MC spent the night at Philo for 'reason'. To kill some time, these two along with Jeremiah decided to have a movie night and let MC choose what to watch.

.

Long story short, any films, books, documentaries etc related to the story of Hachiko the dog are now banned within Xavier's and Jeremiah's vicinity. Their reaction towards the film was so strong that MC felt guilty for ever bringing that up as a suggestion, but the guys reassured her that it wasn't her fault. They just didn't expect it to hit them hard.

.

MC secretly challenges herself to see how many items she can stack on Xavier's sleeping figure before he wakes up. Without him knowing, this challenge becomes a collaborative effort between her and the staffs at Destiny cafe since his sleeping posture there is the most optimal.

.

The record so far is; three coffee table books/magazines, on top of that are two stacks of plastic cups, a tray, a great wall made out of paper cups, another tray, 6-tiered paper cups tower, and a small empty pot.

.

All of that toppled down when Xavier sneezed and jolted up straight.

.

(this is based of an idea for an animatic i wanted to make in the future hehe) Jeremiah and Tara helped Xavier to set up the scene for him to propose to MC. Tara got confused as to why she and Jeremiah had to hide so far from the place the proposal was supposed to happen, and why she was given a pair of sunglasses.

.

That night residents in Linkon City are graced with a news report that states: No, the light beam that blasted the whole city that night did not come from a new type of Wanderer. Yes, the Hunter's Association has confirmed it won't attract Luminivores. Yes, there were three people who got hurt during that incident but they keep telling the reporter on site that it was nothing serious.

.

Ever since they were young, Caleb and MC have this tendency to say the exact same thing multiple times. It extends to the point of them syncing up their movements with one another (etc using the same hand to scratch an itch, having the same facial reaction, choosing the same option without the other knowing). It became a game between them and their childhood friends to see how far it can be tested. (yes, this is based of FuwaMoco's being in sync with each other and how kpop band tend to mimic their members' mannerisms)

.

Of course, post-Caleb's return, MC notices that they both kinda lost that thing. However, it is coming back, though, but gradually.

.

(this is my silly headcanon lmao) The reason why Simone reacted that way when she saw Caleb in MC's house is not fully because she didn't expect to see him there, but partially because she sensed his bionic arm due to her Evol. When she saw that there was no weapon around in MC's living room, Simone became wary of Caleb because she suspected that he is hiding a lethal weapon on him that MC doesn't know about.

.

because of the way his office is designed, Zayne's glasses does that anime glass thing. This did not escaped MC and she giggles to herself whenever it happened. Still unsure if Zayne realised this, tho.

.

(also my headcanon) When MC asked why Zayne likes to wear that black button up t-shirt so much, he said that it's because that was one of the first gifts she ever got for him

.

(no, seriously, I'm on my knees begging people to watch the official release PV of the game where we get snippets of the OG Trio, because MC and Zayne went shopping and she choose a black t-shirt and that might be why he likes that damn shirt so much)

.

(this is based of my own MC and myself) Thanks to Rafayel, MC picked up drawing again as a hobby, although she went for digital art and sometimes learn how to do certain stuff like color theory or anatomy or theme etc from observing him (or just Rafayel giving his own advice).

.

However, this comes with the side effect of both of them getting way too engrossed in their creative ventures. This dawned on Rafayel later on, who appointed himself as Miss Bodyguard's very own caretaker. Multiple nights, the seagulls witnessed the artist pulling a grumpy MC sitting on a wheeled office chair towards the bedroom whenever he realised that they will not sleep if they keep drawing.

.

Rafayel, probably: "Look, one of us has to be the responsible one every now and then, and my shift starts now."

.

(ngl Rafayel have my gratitude for pulling me out of my one year art block, hence why my very first LADS-related fan art is of him :3)

.

Speaking of seagulls, Rafayel once made MC and Thomas sat through a practice presentation a la Animal Planet documentary in preparation to give a speech in one of the upcoming art exhibition.

.

Thomas finds himself nursing a severe migraine while MC is trying her best to not fucking die of laughter when Rafayel is done.

anyway this is all that i have :D