#you'd feel like the world would be better without you

[hannieehaee]

Hey I have an idea!

Could we have another type of angst like "if their s/o gets hurt (seriously or not) while they are touring away"

Please 🙏🙏

(sorry English is not my first language)

their s/o getting hurt while they're away on tour

content: implied accident (but nothing explicit), established relationship, fluff, angst, etc.

wc: 767

a/n: i left the reason why reader was hurt ambiguous to not make it too specific!

masterlist

seungcheol -

would absolutely blame himself for it even when it was completely out of his control. being leader, he probably wouldn't be able to leave whichever schedule he had (at least not right away), but he'd move hell and earth to make sure you were okay while he made his way back to you. would probably be super snappy at everyone bc of how bad he felt he was away from you in such a time.

jeonghan -

he'd be sad and apologetic, but would hide it behind some of that kidnergarten teacher humor, wanting nothing but to comfort you. would be on the phone with you every second up until he could be with you in person, always cooing at you and pouting through the phone. his caring persona would shine through so much.

joshua -

cannot focus on anything that's not you and it'd show on both his behavior and appearance. if he cant get to you, he'd be constantly checking his phone to hear from you as much as possible. would feel guilty for having to be away but would swallow that in order to focus solely on you.

jun -

worried sick and it'd show in his behavior immediately. if he was on tour, the audience would be able to tell he's a little off, not being his usual silly self. would spend every waking moment on the phone with you, maybe even flying out and missing a show or two to make sure you were okay.

soonyoung -

would literally be unable to function from the moment he heard you'd been hurt. he'd be a completely deflated version of himself, feeling guilt and pain from your own pain. rambles endless apologies to you the moment he gets to call you or be by your side.

wonwoo -

would fly out the moment he heard something happened to you. realistically, he'd probably be unable to stay with you due to tour, but he'd wanna make sure he had you under the best care and knowing you were his main priority even if he had to fly back right away.

jihoon -

makes sure you have everything a person could possibly need despite his distance. constantly on the phone with you, barely paying attention to the outside world bc you're his main concern at the moment. it'd take one single plea from you to get him on a flight home to you, everything else be damned.

seokmin -

terrified and super guilty, and it would show. if he had no way of getting to you immediately, he'd be spamming you and your loved ones for constant updates on your state, constantly apologizing to you over the phone for not being there for you. takes a short break to take care of you as soon as possible.

mingyu -

goes into caretaker mode immediately. will be on the phone all day with you and making sure you have everything you could possibly need to feel better and get properly taken care of during his absence. if he's unable to be with you, he'd still take a flight on his day off even if it means staying for half a day and taking another flight back immediately.

minghao -

doesnt give a fuck if there's some schedule in the way, he'll get to you with or without his company's support. he'd know the members would understand and thats all that mattered. he'd want to beat himself up over not being there, but would put that in the back burner, not wanting to make this about himself.

seungkwan -

he'd be such a mess, he'd have to be sent home immediately upon finding out. he'd be so sad and apologetic for not being there, swearing it'd never happen again. from now on, he'd either take you with him or stay with you (as irrational as that sounded), blinded by emotions as he took care of you.

vernon -

he'd try to be logical about it, finding a way to take care of you despite the distance while he found a way to get back home to you in order to take care of you. this would be one of the few moments in which he'd hate the nature of his job, cursing at himself for not being able to be there for you as soon as humanly possible.

chan -

he'd be a worried mess, feeling like shit due to having not been there for you when you got hurt. super guilty and regretful, constantly sending you flowers or food delivery due to his absence. makes up for it tenfold as soon as he gets a few days off.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 22: Phone Sex

Beautiful Mess

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, SMUT, self-esteem issues

Word Count: ~1.4k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Honey, you sound different, what's goin’ on?” Elvis's voice in your ear is soft, almost a whisper. You twirl the phone cord in your fingers and look down at your feet. He's always been good at sensing your low moods. 

“Oh, nothin’, Elvis, I'm fine.” You swear you can hear him purse his lips. 

“Bullshit, honey. Somethin’s wrong.” He looks around the room at the other people gathered in his pink and black den at the Fadal’s house in Waco. He's visiting them again while he's at Fort Hood for basic training. This is his favorite place to come when he's feeling homesick, but there's one thing missing every time: you. 

“I just… I don't know why you bother with me, Elvis. You could have any girl in the world. I seem like a waste of-”

“Honey, stop. I'm with you because I love you. I've told you this a hundred times.” You nod, forgetting that he can't see you, and try to figure out how to talk without letting him hear the tears. 

“I know.” You can tell you're unsuccessful by the way he sighs, but he's not bothered. He's just worried. 

“Honey, hang on a second.” He covers the receiver and asks everyone to clear out of the room and close the door on their way out. When he's finally alone, he goes back to you on the phone. In the meantime, you've tried to make the tears stop, but you just can't. “Okay, I'm back.” 

“I'm s-sorry. You're just tryin’ to have fun with your friends and I'm ruinin’ it again.”

“Honey…” The hardest part for him is being so far away from you. Usually when you're like this he can wrap you in his arms and kiss you until you feel better, but you're all the way in Memphis and he's stuck here in Texas. “You're not ruinin’ nothin’. If I wanted to be with them, I wouldn't’ve called you, but I did because I wanna talk to you.”

“Why?” You sniffle and brush the tears off your cheeks. 

“Because I love you and I miss you like crazy. Honey, I'd give anything to have you here with me. You and that cute little ass.” You giggle despite yourself. He's always talking about your ass, or touching it or squeezing it if you're together. Sometimes he even gives it a little slap when you're in bed together. 

“What is your thing with my ass?” You ask, still giggling. He smiles. It worked. 

“It's just so cute! Little and round and mmm. Honey, I wish I could get my hands on it right now.” 

“Yeah? What would you do, if my ass was right there next to you?” He chuckles and your tears start to dry. 

“Well, I'd definitely give it a nice, hearty squeeze. Maybe I'd even bend you over my knee and give it a good spanking.” The image of that makes his pants a little tighter at the crotch and you swallow hard thinking about it. 

“You'd really… spank me?”

“W-would you like that if I did that, honey?” You bite your bottom lip as you feel your center get a little wetter. 

“I think maybe I would. What would you do… after…” Elvis clears his throat and adjusts himself in an attempt to make his erection less uncomfortable. Thankfully, he's alone in the room now and the door is closed, because he starts to consider unzipping his pants. 

“Well, honey, I-I-I’d probably pull your panties down…” He looks at the door and down at himself and then whispers. “What’re you wearin’ right now, baby?” 

You know the switch from honey to baby means his mood has shifted just like yours has. 

“My little silk pjs. The baby blue ones with the white lace and bows that you like.” You know these are his favorite pajamas because he always asks you to wear them when you stay with him. You've been wearing them a lot lately because you miss him so much. 

“Mmmm…” He touches himself gently. “And your panties?” 

“White cotton, just like you like.” He groans softly and your heart speeds up. 

“Why don't you… take your shorts off for me, baby?” You giggle a little. 

“Are you serious?” He smiles and gives his cock a light squeeze. 

“I am, baby. You're in your bed aren't you? And you're alone?”

“Mhmm. Everyone else is asleep.”

“Yeah go ahead and take them off.” He holds the phone with his shoulder and unzips his pants, freeing his aching member into his hand, giving it a couple of slow strokes. 

“Okay…” You set the phone on the pillow and slide your shorts off. Your fingers go to your center and you feel the wet spot on the white cotton between your thighs. “They're off… my panties are… wet…”

He inhales sharply. You've been having sex for a while now, but he's never dreamed of doing anything as dirty as this. 

“Yeah, baby? How wet?” He pulls his lip in between his teeth and strokes himself slowly again. 

“Real wet, baby. Ready for you…” You don't even notice that your hand slips under your panties as your fingers find your clit. “What would you do after you pulled my panties down?”

“I'd… slide my fingers up inside you, move ‘em like you like.” You whimper at the thought and slip your panties off too, spreading your legs as your fingertips rub your clit. He hears your breathing change. “Baby, are you… what are you doing?”

“I'm imagining your fingers.”

“Yeah, but are ya… touching…?” He stumbles over the words. This whole thing is so filthy that he has a hard time comprehending it. Still, his hand pushes his foreskin back and forth over his dick. 

“Mhmm… feels good… are you?” His hand speeds up at the thought of you with your fingers on your pussy. 

“Yeah, baby. Just wishin’ I could lick you, make you cum for me.” You moan softly and move your fingertips faster over your clit. The pleasure starts to gather between your hips and the thought of him with his tongue inside you, pretty lips glistening with your arousal, almost pushes you over the edge. 

“And then… I'd put my mouth on you…” You coo, losing yourself in the fantasy. He groans again deeply as his thumb swipes over the head of his dick and he imagines your warm, wet mouth on him, tongue pressed against his tip, tasting the precum that's started to leak out of him. 

“God, baby, I wanna fuck ya so bad.” He whispers, breathing heavily. You moan and slip a finger into yourself, imagining his hard cock up inside you, so close to your climax you can feel the edges of it. 

“I want that too, baby.” You whimper. He pumps himself more erratically, thinking of your tight, wet pussy wrapped around him as his release builds in his balls.

“Fuck. I'm gonna cum.” 

“Me too, oh god, Elvis!” You try to stay quiet, but fail miserably as your orgasm washes over you, running through your veins like so much lightning as you shudder and pulse on your own fingers. 

“Yeah, baby, cum for me. FUCK.” He shudders and gasps as his release spurts out of him all over his hand and pants. He slows his strokes as his cock throbs and he starts to come back down. 

You lay in your bed sweating and panting, trying to catch your breath. The phone is still pressed to your ear and you can hear Elvis breathing too. 

“Elvis, I'm such a mess. Why do you love me?” Tears threaten to slide down your cheeks again. 

“Honey, you're not a mess. My lap is a mess.” He chuckles. “You're incredible.”

“But doesn't it bother you when I get like this?”

“No, it doesn't. And even if it did, you're worth it. The good things about you are so good that I'll take whatever bad comes with it.”

“Elvis-”

“And I'll spend the rest of our lives telling you that, if you'll let me. I want you here with me, honey. Move to Killeen with my parents this summer and I'll make an honest woman out of ya.”

“Elvis, are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“I didn't really want to do it over the phone like this, but yes. Get that cute little ass of yours on a plane tomorrow and you can have this ring I've been carryin’ around like a fool.” 

“Elvis-!”

“I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll see you tomorrow, honey. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Elvis.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[unconventional-lawnchair]

second part of too late?😭😭😭😭 this fic broke me

"Never...

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Summary: True colors are shown from all ends, Remus can't take it

Wc: 4063

Cw: use of {Y/N}, Cussing, fighting, depictions of abusive relationships, Benjy slander(I'm sorry), Drinking and getting drunk, James being a problem

Part one

A few months had passed since that cold night at the Potters’ engagement party, and the world had shifted in ways Remus had never anticipated. He had thrown himself into his work with the Order, using every ounce of energy he had to distract himself from the pain of losing you. But despite his efforts, the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of what might have been.

You and Benjy had taken the next steps in your relationship, and while Remus tried to be happy for you, it felt as though he was watching a beautiful sunset. Knowing the night was just around the corner.

Waiting for the moon to taunt him.

If he thought the last three years were torture without you, the last few months being near you was worse.

The love you had for him now belonged to someone else, someone older, someone better, and he was left with the memory of what could have been. Day in and day out, he was reminded of it every time he passed by your proposal photos at the Potters’.

The nights were the hardest. He would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could find the courage to reach out to you, to tell you everything he had held back, selfishly hoping it was a front. That you still loved him far more then you'd ever love Benjy. But the fear of intruding on your happiness kept him silent, and he buried himself deeper in his work.

The tension in the air had thickened as news of Voldemort's newest victories began to swirl around them. The Order was on high alert, and every mission felt heavier with the weight of uncertainty.

Benjy’s response to the dangers was to move your wedding day up. He said he wanted to die a happy and married man. You didn't seem to enjoy his joke, but you agreed the sooner the better.

Remus felt a pang of bitterness at the thought, his heart clenching in response to the news. He tried to shake it off, to remind himself that you deserved happiness, that you were moving forward with your life. But the reality of it stung, like salt in a fresh wound. He couldn’t help but feel like he was losing you all over again, and this time, it felt irrevocable.

The wedding was set for a few weeks from now, and the thought of it loomed over him like a dark cloud. Every time he caught sight of you at the Order meetings, laughing with Benjy or sharing a tender moment, it felt like a dagger twisting deeper into his chest. He had to remind himself that it was his fault, that he had let fear dictate his actions, pushing you away when he wanted you more then anything.

With the wedding so close, the rehearsal dinner was moved as well. You had mentioned the idea of just skipping it, but Benjy was determined to celebrate.

It was tonight. And after some coaxing from Lily he made it to the Potter manor.

“So, Benjy, truth or dare?” Lily’s voice filled the room, leaning back against James who stole her drink for himself. Already sloppy off his ass.

The party was rather fun, Remus had to admit. You and him finally managed an air of normalcy. Benjy and you both decided to forgo to typical traditions, turning it into a get together to remind people of the more simple joys in life.

That meant silly drinking games and childish fun.

The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, and for a moment, Remus allowed himself to be swept up in it. He watched as you and Benjy engaged with friends, your laughter brightening the room. You looked radiant, your happiness palpable, and it made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t fully express.

“Come on, Benjy! Don’t be a coward. Truth or dare?” Lily’s playful challenge snapped Remus out of his thoughts.

Benjy smirked, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the attention. “Dare.” He said confidently, and Remus felt a spark of unease.

“I dare you to kiss {Y/N}.” Lily declared, her eyebrows wiggling playfully.

The room erupted in cheers and laughter, and Remus felt his heart drop. Sirius, however, booed. “Come on, those two are never NOT kissing! Give em a real one, red!”

Lily laughed and flipped him off with both fingers as Benjy turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “My lady?”

You laughed and held out your hand when he asked for it. He took it and kissed up your arm to your shoulder, making you giggle and smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Benjy!” You scolded when he bit the strap of your tube top. The same dress you wore to the winter formal.

He gave a playful chuckle and kissed your cheek, making you shove his face away with playful disgust.

The energy in the room was electric, a mix of laughter and playful teasing that filled the air with warmth. Remus tried to force a smile, but the sight of you and Benjy together made it feel like a mask, hiding all the turmoil roiling inside him. The way you laughed, the way you looked at him, it was everything Remus had dreamed of sharing with you.

As Benjy continued his antics, leaning in closer to you, Remus felt a deep, gnawing ache in his chest. He tried to focus on the people around him, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. You were everything he remembered and more, the light in your eyes shining brighter than any candle in the room. But with each passing second, it became clearer to him that you were moving on, and he was left behind.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you a proper kiss,” Benjy announced, clearly enjoying the game. With a flourish, he pulled you in close, his hands resting on your waist. Remus gripped the edge of the table, feeling the tension knot in his stomach.

As Benjy leaned in, you met him halfway, and their lips connected in a sweet kiss that seemed to last forever. The cheers and whoops from the others faded into a dull roar, and Remus felt as if he were drowning in a sea of emotions. The warmth of the room turned cold, and he could hardly breathe.

“See? That’s how it’s done.” He cheeked and kissed your nose, making you smile up at him. Remus didn't even had time to notice how it didn't reach your eyes.

“Alright tough guy, your turn!” James huffed from the love seat cross from them. Remus noticed his tone, it wasn't entirely pleasant and James was clearly struggling to hide it, especially in his drunken state.

Benjy chuckled softly, but his eyes darkened a bit despite his smile. “Alright, James! Truth or dare?”

James gave a simple smile before he shrugged. “Truth.”

“Okay, truth.” He hummed and it was hard not to notice the tension between the two. “Why don't you like me, man?”

Not like him? This was news to Remus. Too observed in self hatred he didn't even notice James fake laughter and false smiles until now.

“Benjy.” You warned softly, pouting at him a bit. Like this was something you had asked him not to bring up. Benjy put his hand on your thigh and gave it a simple squeeze, eyes still on James. “It's alright, babe.” He whispered and you furrowed your brow further.

The tension in the air thickened with every passing moment. He could see the flicker of irritation in James’s eyes, a stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere that had filled the room just moments before. The party was still lively around them, but the bubble you guys had created was terribly tense.

“Why don’t I like you?” James repeated, his voice steady despite the slight slur from the alcohol. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Benjy. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I just don’t trust you with her.”

Lily smacked his leg and gave a gasp. “James Potter!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing between the two men, clearly caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. “Guys, can we not do this now?” You interjected, your voice soft but firm.

“Yeah, can we just keep this fun?” Remus chimed in, trying to defuse the situation. He forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but the weight of the moment hung heavily in the air.

Benjy's eyes narrowed slightly, the playful demeanor slipping for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean, Remus?” He asked, his tone edged with defensiveness.

“Nothing! Just… it’s a party, right? We’re supposed to be celebrating, not this,” Remus replied, his heart pounding as he tried to navigate the tension. He could feel the way everyone was suddenly looking at him, as if he were the referee in an unspoken showdown.

“Exactly.” Your voice rose just enough to cut through the thick air. Benjy scoffed and waved you off. Muttering something about you agreeing with Remus. Has Benjy always been so dismissive of you?

You have a shaky sigh and Sirius spoke up, a hesitant smile on his face. “Besides, James is just being a brother, yeah? Protective and shit.”

You gave him an appreciative look. Sirius leaned back and gave you a smile before flashing it to Benjy. James giving a thoughtful drunken look. “Should of seen him at Hogwarts! Didn't want anyone dating his sister. Oh, it was sad to watch.”

“It's not that I didn't want her dating anyone!” James huffed and bit his cheek.

“James, stop.” You snapped, Lily hissing a curse to tell him to just stop talking, but James huffed.

“I just figured it would be Remus.”

The tension in the room escalated, and Remus felt his heart race as he processed James's words. His stomach twisted at the implication, and he could see the discomfort ripple through you. You looked caught between annoyance and embarrassment, your eyes darting between James and Benjy, who was clearly unimpressed with the turn the conversation had taken.

“Seriously, James?” Sirius snapped, eyeing Remus warily.

“You can’t just throw that out there like it’s some kind of joke! This isn’t funny.” Lily continued to scold him and snatched his drink away.

Remus felt a strange mix of emotions surge within him. He felt the weight of James's comment pressing down on him like a heavy stone. He had always been the one who kept his feelings buried, and now the spotlight was on him in a way he had never wanted. Even James had been rooting for him…

Benjy took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. “Look, I get it. You wanted your best friend to be family, I can get that.” His voice was steady, but Remus could see the tension in his jaw. “But she's mine now.” Remus seemed caught off guard by his phrasing. His? “You can't seriously hate me because she loves me and not him, yeah? She loves me.”

“Yeah, but Remus is different.” James insisted, his expression firm. “He’s been in love with {Y/N} since day one. Through all her weird phases. You can’t compete with that, sorry, Benjy.” James continued like a child.

Remus felt heat rise to his cheeks. He could see your eyes widening, the shock evident on your face as you processed James’s blunt admission. You looked between the two men, clearly caught in an uncomfortable position that was only getting worse.

“James, this isn’t the time.” You pleaded, your voice strained. “Can we not make this about Remus?”

Benjy’s grip on your thigh tightened, but he remained calm, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m not trying to disrespect anyone here, man. But it’s kind of unfair to just hate me for trying to make you sister happy.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s unfair for Remus to just stand there and let it happen,” James shot back, his tone defensive. Shooting a drunken glare at Remus who gave him a shocked look. Almost offended. James scoffed and looked back to you. “I’m just saying that if I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t be able to handle watching the love of my life marry someone else, especially when he's an absolute git.”

“James, I think it's time to shut up.” Sirius snapped at James but he didn't falter, James jaw tightening as he noticed you shuffle uncomfortably when Benjy’s grip on your thigh only tightened.

“James, please, just stop talking.” You seethed and he reached for another drink, one Remus was quick enough to snatch from him.

“And what about you, {Y/N}?” James snapped and gestured to you.

“Are you really okay with all of this? With him?” His words hung in the air, charged with an intensity that made everyone shift uncomfortably.

You looked taken aback, your expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “What do you mean ‘okay with him’? I love Benjy. What else do you want me to say?” Your voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor in it, betraying the emotions swirling just beneath the surface.

“Do you love him the way you loved Remus?” James pressed, clearly not backing down. “Because it feels like there’s still something still there. Even after three years I've never seen you look at anyone like you look at him!”

“James-” Lily stood and tried to coax him up, trying to excuse her husband before he ruined the night further.

“No! He's like a damn puppy, Lily. He's hurt!” James shouted over his wife and Remus stood up, placing a hand on James chest to push him back against the love seat.

“James. Shut up.” He seethed, finally tired of just sitting around and letting it all happen.

James shoved him back and stood up to challenge him back. Pointing his drunken finger to his chest. “You let her go so easy man! Three years? Three years you left her with this jag off!”

You finally stood up, coming between the two. “James, cut it out! Hes my fiance and I'd appreciate if you'd don't insult him! If you're so unhappy with it you can go!”

“I can go?” James scoffed, gesturing to Remus. “What about him?”

“What do you mean, James? He hasn't done anything!”

“That's my bloody point! He let you go! Now he's just some.. stranger! You guys don't even write anymore!” James whined like some obscene child of divorce. Gesturing between you two with a drunken stumble, trying to stifle a burp. “You two were perfect for each other.” He continued to insist. “What happened?”

You sighed and tried to focus on the fact that James was drunk, he was being stupid, and he wasn't going to see reason easily. “James… I still care about Remus, that won't change.”

Your eyes flicked to said boy but his eyes were focused on the edge of your dress skirt. Noticing the large handprint shaped bruise on your thigh from Benjy’s grip. You quickly covered it.

“But you're marrying him!” James gestured towards Benjy and Remus eventually gave in, falling back on the couch and eyeing Benjy.

“You can't pretend this is some casual fling! You're marrying him! Ring on your finger! You hated big chunky jewelry.” James shouted and you gave a scandalized laugh.

“Fling? James, I know that!”

“Then why?!” He whined like he physically couldn't understand. Like it was impossible; the idea you could want Benjy when you could have Remus. “Mom and dad loved Remus! They would of hated Benjy too! They knew you loved him! And now you're just expecting me to believe you don't anymore!?”

You felt a surge of anger rising within you, fueled by the insistence, unfiltered by your own drinks tonight. “Of course I still do- that doesn't just change, James!” You blurted out, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Silence enveloped the room. You could feel the shock radiating from everyone- the laughter, the playful atmosphere evaporating into thin air. Everyone, your family, Benjy’s family, your friends and coworkers, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Remus’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of hope and disbelief in his gaze.

“Wait- what?” Benjy’s voice was soft, almost broken as he processed your words. Then, came that familiar rage. “You're kidding.”

Everyone was silent. James was staring down at you with a furrowed brow, his lip twitching slightly.

“I didn't hear that.” Benjy scoffed and stood up, tossing his drink across the room and the expensive glass shattered against the hard floor. “I really hope I didn't hear that properly.”

You took a shutter of a breath, trying to hide your wince as you walked over to your fiance and tried to mutter an apology, trying to excuse you two to have a private conversation.

He was having none of it.

“Don’t you dare apologize now!” Benjy shouted, his voice echoing off the walls, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, you could hear a pen drop. He stepped closer, invading your personal space, his eyes blazing with anger. You stumbled back instinctively. “You’ve been playing me this entire time, haven’t you? Telling me you love me while still pining after him! How am I supposed to trust you after that?”

“Benjy, please, it’s not like that.” You lowered your voice, feeling a twinge of panic rise in your chest. You tried to take a full step back, but he reached out, grabbing your arm with a grip that felt too tight, too possessive.

“Not like that?” He repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You could smell the fire whiskey on his breath. He was drunk, you tried to remind yourself, everyone was. “You just told everyone you’re still in love with him! What am I supposed to think? That you’ll marry me and then run back to him the moment things get tough? Are you cheating on me?” He laughed. “With Remus Lupin of all people?”

You could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him, and the fear began to creep in. Trying to ignore the familiar danger in this conversation. Ever since that night on the balcony he was becoming someone you knew, someone he promised he wasn't anymore. “I’m not cheating on you! I chose you, Benjy! You’re the one I want to marry!”

But he pulled you closer, his grip tightening. “Benjy, nothing has happened.” You whispered, insisting, as you tried to pull him along with you.

“Please. Not in front of everyone.” You whispered again. You could hear James curse, turning to watch as Sirius got between you and your brother. The drunken idiot looked ready to kill Benjy.

“Not in front of everyone?” Benjy laughed, his voice rising again, anger bubbling. “You think that’s going to change how I feel right now? You think I care about what anyone else thinks when my fiancée just declared her love for another man?”

His grip on your arm was painful, and you tried to pull away, but he only tightened his hold. You slowly closed your eyes. Not hearing Lily shouting at James as she dragged him out, James complaints and verbal threats about Bengy’s behavior not even reaching you, Lily fully trusting the boys to deal with it. Not noticing how Marlene and Mary began to escort people out of the house.

Much to Benjy’s drunken berating.

“Benjy, please.” You pleaded, desperation lacing your tone. “I’m not cheating on you. I love you. I am marrying you. Like we promised, yeah?”

But Benjy's expression twisted into something dark, a mixture of hurt and fury. His teeth gritting. “You think that’s enough? You think just saying you love me is going to erase what you just said?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, menacing tone. “You’ve put me in a position where I can’t trust you. You think I can just ignore this? That I can pretend it doesn’t hurt? You humiliated me.”

“I'm only going to tell you to back up once.” Sirius’s voice cut through you two, sharp and commanding. He stepped forward, positioning himself between you and Benjy, his expression full of pure rage.. “How about you put your hands on a man your size, huh?”

“Sirius…” Remus warned as he walked up behind you.

Benjy’s eyes flicked to Sirius, a flash of defiance crossing his face. “Stay out of this, Black! This is between me and her.”

“No, it’s not just between you two anymore,” Sirius shot back, unwavering. “You don't get to touch my sister like that.”

You could almost smile at the comment. Sirius’s declaration; you wondered if your dad would be proud.

He'd surely be disappointed in you.

“Touch her?” Benjy’s voice dripped with disdain. “She's my wife. She’s the one who made a fool of us!”

“Benjy-” You started before you felt Remus’s hand rest on your shoulder, slowly running down to rub the tender spot Benjy had just been manhandling. When your eyes met Remus’s there was something so reassuring, so soft.

“I didn't mean for this-”

“Just stop talking.” He hissed and before Sirius could ball up his fist Benjy spoke again.

“Give me my ring. I'm done with you.” He snapped and you winced. Carefully taking the gem off and handing it to Sirius. Who then, like an asshole, tossed it across the room.

“Go fetch.” He hissed and Banji scoffed, eyes still on you.

“I knew you were a waste of my time.” He spat harshly, “The second you showed your real colors. You right bitch-”

You had never seen Remus move so quickly in your life. Your mouth have a horrified sound as you watched Remus’s fist collide with Bengy’s face.

The impact echoed in the room, a sharp crack that momentarily stunned everyone into silence; everyone who was left to watch the pathetic scene. Benjy staggered back, clutching his nose, blood beginning to trickle down his face and from in between his fingers. The room was caught between shock and disbelief, all eyes turning towards Remus.

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that.” Remus growled, the anger radiating off him dangerously. He felt everything, jealousy, rage, regret, anger. Guilt- guilt that he even let this happen. That a man as disgusting as Benjy had somehow fooled you- and Remus had let it happen.

He would let a lot of things happen for your happiness, but he would do a bloody lot more for your honor. If that meant bloodying his knuckles that was fine. He would do what James said, he'd fight for you.

You covered your mouth in stunned silence but Sirius just gave a wicked smirk. You turned to glare at Sirius and he shrugged without a lick of regret.

Remus stood firm, fists clenched at his sides, as he watched Benjy stumble back, the realization of what had just happened settling in. You could see the fury in Remus's eyes, a fierce protectiveness that sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you.

“Remus, you-”

Benjy regained his footing, wiping the blood from his nose with a look of utter disbelief mixed with rage. “You think that makes you a hero?” He spat, his voice low. “Trust me, half breed, she ain't worth saving.” Sirius stepped in this time, but Remus was the one to hold him back. A hand to his chest.

Benjy and Remus held eye contact before Remus’s eyes flickered to the door. Benjy scoffed before he began to leave, leaving the ring in the center of the shattered glass.

Everything crashed over uou as you watched him leave. Was it relief? Grief? Yearning? You wanted to run to him but you wanted to curse his name. You wanted to take the ring back but also wanted to throw it into the black lake and forget about it. You finally broke down, covering your face in shame as Sirius sighed and Remus quickly turned on his heels to pull you into a hug. Suddenly as soft as a teddy bear.

Sirius slowly sighed and ran his fingers threw his long hair. “James is going to kill him.” He mumbled before he turned to face you two. He cooed and walked over, rubbing your back as you came undone.

[littlelamy]

dont know If you’re still taking requests but could you do a rafe x tall reader (like im 5’9 and rafe being 6’2 is soooo ugh) please its tough for us out here 😭😭😭

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

the air felt different as soon as you stepped into the living room. it was heavy, like the weight of a thousand thoughts pressing down on you. you glanced down at the pair of black high heels sitting next to the couch, their sleek design tempting yet intimidating. you'd wanted to wear them for ages, to feel more elegant. but every time you tried them on, an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness flooded you.

you were 5'9'', and most of the time, it was fine. hell, you didn’t even care about it half the time. but the idea of being even taller in heels? that made you nervous. you were already used to being noticed, used to people glancing up at you with a hint of surprise. wearing the heels would only draw more attention. and honestly? you didn’t know if you wanted that.

“hey,” rafe’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. his voice, low and calming, filled the room like a warm breeze. you turned toward him, his blue eyes watching you with a mix of curiosity and affection. he was lounging on the couch, his legs spread comfortably, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, which he probably had. his tousled blond hair fell lazily over his forehead, and there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“you alright?” he asked, his tone soft. his gaze flickered between you and the shoes.

you glanced down at them again, your fingers brushing over the smooth leather. “yeah. just… i don’t know. i wanted to wear these, but i feel like i’m already too tall, you know? like, maybe it’s too much.”

rafe sat up, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he studied you. there was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel like he could see through all the layers of insecurity you tried to hide. you shifted uncomfortably, wishing you could disappear into the floor.

“you know what i think?” rafe said, his voice low, full of conviction.

“what?” you murmured, not looking up.

“i think you’re perfect just the way you are,” he replied, his voice thick with sincerity. “tall or short, with heels or without, it doesn’t matter. i like you for you. not for some idea of what you think you should be.”

you felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. his honesty, the way he always knew just what to say, made you feel safe, like nothing else in the world mattered as long as you were with him.

you met his gaze, your heart fluttering as you took in the sincerity in his eyes. there was no judgment there, just… love. “you really think so?” you asked, the insecurity still gnawing at you.

rafe nodded, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “i think you look amazing no matter what. and those heels? you’ll look even better in them.” he paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint. “besides, if you’re taller than me in them, that’s just more of you to love.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. the playful banter was one of the things you loved most about rafe—how he could take the heaviest moments and lighten them up with just a few words. “you know you’re already taller than me most of the time,” you teased, a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“yeah, but i like the idea of you towering over me,” he replied with a smirk. he stood up slowly, taking a few steps toward you. “makes me feel like i have someone to look up to.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. rafe had always been the one to take care of things, the one who was confident and sure of himself. but in moments like these, he was also the one who made you feel like you were the most important person in the room, like you were the one holding all the power.

“okay, enough of the sweet talk,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush. you bit your lip and glanced down at the shoes once more. “maybe i’ll give them a try.”

“good,” rafe said, his voice filled with an almost mischievous excitement. “i want to see you in them.”

you hesitated for just a moment longer before bending down and sliding your feet into the heels. standing up, you carefully adjusted yourself, feeling the slight shift in your posture as the heels gave you a few more inches. you glanced at rafe, unsure of what to expect.

he was staring at you, his eyes wide with admiration. “holy shit,” he whispered under his breath, his gaze moving from your heels to your face. “you look… god, you look incredible.”

you smiled nervously, unsure of how to respond. “you think so?”

“think so? i know so.” he took a step toward you, closing the distance between you with that familiar confident stride of his. his hands cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you’re stunning, baby. and i’m not just saying that because you’ve got a few extra inches on me right now. i’m saying it because it’s the truth.”

you blinked up at him, a fluttering sensation in your chest. his words, the way he always made you feel like the most important person in his world, were more than you could handle. he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours in a soft, lingering kiss. the warmth of his mouth made your heart race.

“you’re perfect just like this,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “tall, confident, sexy.”

his words melted away the last remnants of your self-consciousness. maybe you were taller than most people, maybe the heels made you even taller, but in rafe’s eyes, none of it mattered. all that mattered was how you felt in his arms.

the kiss deepened, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger with every second. his hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body radiating into yours. the world outside the two of you didn’t exist anymore. it was just rafe, you, and the overwhelming feeling of being loved.

you pulled away for a moment, your forehead resting against his. “you really don’t care about how tall i am?”

“no,” he said, his voice a soft growl. “i care about how you make me feel. and right now, i feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

you smiled up at him, your hands finding their way to his chest, resting over his heart. “then i guess i’m the lucky one,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection.

rafe smiled, his lips brushing over yours once more in a quick, sweet kiss. “you’re my everything,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms again. “heels, no heels, it doesn’t matter. you’re perfect the way you are.”

and in that moment, you realized something. maybe you weren’t just perfect without the heels. maybe the extra inches, the added height, were just another part of you that rafe loved. and maybe, just maybe, being tall wasn’t something to hide or be self-conscious about. with rafe by your side, it was just another thing that made you who you were—someone worthy of love, no matter how tall, no matter how much space you took up in the world.

you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace surround you. “thanks, rafe,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“anytime,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “now, let’s go out and show off those heels.”

you laughed, the sound of it filling the room with a sense of lightness. maybe it wasn’t about the heels at all. maybe it was about feeling comfortable in your own skin, knowing that someone loved you for who you were, tall and all.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎTender is the Night (Part Two)⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: fem reader x ghost billy the kid author’s note: (modern au) based partially on @goosita ghost billy au (which I've been dying for an excuse to write for) which is based on lisa frankenstein (love) Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The threads separating life and death are gossamer, as fine as spiderwebs and nearly as breakable. It is a ragged veil that hangs over mortality, fluttering in an invisible wind and offering those encased a glimpse of the other side.

He was nearly a shadow, clinging to the edges of the graveyard, haunting without really haunting. It was as if he’d been swallowed except for the final drop left in his shape, retaining the same pain as someone breathing.

All this time he'd thought the world cruel for keeping him here with no purpose- just aimlessly wandering with nothing but his own thoughts to accompany him. He was well aware that punishment was reasonable- he hadn't exactly been a good man.

Maybe not so bad a man as he'd thought. Not if you'd come his way.

You spent your free time with him, lying side by side with him on the grassy expanse of his grave. Sometimes you brought homework or a book with you, sometimes you played music. And sometimes you abandoned all of it in favor of listening to him.

Slowly, he began to tell you about his few years on earth. Of his passage to America. Of the deaths of his family. How he was thrust into the life of an outlaw without so much as a say. You listened fascinatedly, like nobody else had. Even while he'd had a beating heart and air in his lungs he hadn't been such a point of fascination to anybody. No, he'd been simply existing, no better than his current ghostly form.

Billy felt more alive with you than he ever had when he was breathing.

“How do you think we’d have met in your time?” you murmured one day, lying on your side with your hair tumbling down over your shoulders like a waterfall.

Billy hummed, his hand half wound through a strand. "Maybe at the bar one night. I'd buy you a drink 'n we'd get to talkin'."

You giggled, leaning your cheek on your hand. "I'd have liked that."

"Me too," was his response, murmured as he watched you watch him. Suddenly the great divide between life and death didn't seem as prominent. It was such a delicate thing, yet unbreakable.

Two souls, existing in the wrong space of time. Maybe that was the reason he was made to haunt the earth so long after his supposed permanent disappearance. Maybe all these years of being lonely and feeling neglected were paid for the gift of you.

"I wasn't a good man," he confessed, tracing stars onto your arm and imagining them taking shape, leaving patterns that marked the fact that he was real to you. It was still unclear why exactly he was able to touch you now. Or why you were able to see him. But you were the common denominator. It couldn't be a coincidence that the best thing to happen to him in a century and the revelation of his existence had overlapped. "Dunno if that's been absolved...with death 'n all. But it stays with me. 's if it was yesterday."

You hummed, fingers twiddling with a blade of grass before your wrist. He knew nearly every quirk about you at this point, could read you like a map, chart the nature of what you were about to say. But he'd never deem to guess exactly what that would be. You had a way of surprising him in the best of ways. "You know...I don't believe in the idea of people being good or bad."

"Hm?" Billy blinked at you, the pads of his fingers pausing their motions on your skin.

Turning your head to face the sky, blue in all its glory with fluffy white clouds adorning the expanse of it, you let your eyelashes touch your cheek once before continuing. "People are full of a million intentions and thoughts and feelings. Not all of them can be defined. Not all of them are ever revealed. I don't think it's all measured up against us."

Billy let the quiet talk for a moment as he thought about it, the idea taking space, filling the gap more wholly than guilt ever could. His features lightened, and you smiled at the sight, moving forward and reaching for his hand. He expected your fingers to pass through his form, occupy the space inside the outline. But instead your warm palm sat atop his knuckles, making you both look up.

“Did…?” your question trailed off, as if you weren’t exactly sure what you should be asking.

“Yes.” Billy turned his palm over, letting yours touch it. He was in utter disbelief. First he could touch you and now you could touch him. Something was brightening from the inside, warming him and lighting everything up. It intensified when he looked at you, watching the way your lips parted, the wonder fill your eyes. It was like you were seeing him for the first time.

After that, it was like you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Whenever you came over you were touching him in some way; holding his hand, rubbing his arm, or his personal favorite- lying with your head on his chest. It almost made him feel like a person again, lying among the flowers with a pretty girl in his arms.

With every day, he could feel the weight of emotions he hadn't felt in decades holding him to earth, as if heaven or hell wouldn't let him in due to his love.

Due to his love.

He realized it one day as you were lazily resting with your hair spread across him, and he was thumbing your cheek. In your hands was a copy of Romeo and Juliet, one of your favorites, you'd told him. Every now and then you'd stop and read a passage to him, and he'd smile, enchanted by your love for it.

“Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,” you recited, and he could hear your smile in your voice.

My heart didn't love until now, he thought casually. And then it hit him, a rod of lightning from the sky.

You were his sun, his moon. You were the light after centuries of darkness. You cared for him, astounded him with your sweetness, with your view of the world. This had to be the reason he could now touch you. because you were his reason for everything now.

You made him feel alive again.

Once he realized it, he felt frozen. He was a ghost in love with a living girl. Billy had never heard anything more hopeless. He felt as though he were yelling into a void. Before he had thanked the higher powers for gifting you to him, but now he was sure this was some kind of torment. Bringing the sweetest, kindest girl he'd ever known into his afterlife and making it so he couldn't have her. Was there ever a crueler thing?

You looked up at him with the most darling of smiles then, shifting on his chest and reaching up for his hand while keeping hold of the book. Billy couldn't help his smile, and he tangled his fingers with yours. An abundance of that old familiar glowing feeling warmed him again, and he disregarded all previous thoughts.

You were worth every bit of it.

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3 also HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN!!!!!

[cosmicalls]

if you like dead poets society, you may like these!

just for fun: a little list of movies, shows, and books i like that i feel have something in common with dps. hopefully you'll find something you'd like, too!

not in any particular order. just the order that i thought of them in really

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A Separate Peace

by John Knowles - published 1959

a coming-of-age novel set at an all-boys new england boarding school. follows two boys, Gene and Finny, and their experiences during the summer and winter sessions of 1942. talks a bit about WWII and what role the boys may have to play in that, but it stays pretty focused on the school and the emotions involved during this time in one's life. all the growth and transformation and oddly homoerotic, perhaps very codependent, friendship of a bildungsroman that we love to look for.

one of my personal favorite books, even considering that it was assigned reading. i truly believe many of you would like it and i know for a fact some of you can vouch for me

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky - published 1999 movie adaptation: dir. Stephen Chbosky - released 2012

follows Charlie and his general struggles of high school and with being, well, a wallflower. from goodreads: "Caught between trying to live his life and trying to run from it puts him on a strange course through uncharted territory. The world of first dates and mixed tapes, family dramas and new friends. The world of sex, drugs, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, when all one requires is that the perfect song on that perfect drive to feel infinite."

very emotional. that's all! i preferred the movie, but i liked the format of the book being completely in letters that Charlie was writing. they're both good! (if you watch the movie, the english teacher's name is Mr. Anderson. so do with that information what you will...!)

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Matilda

by Roald Dahl - published 1988 movie adaptation: dir. Danny DeVito - released 1996 musical adaptation: dir. Matthew Warchus - released 2022

a young girl with an aptitude for reading discovers she has telekinetic abilities at the same time she begins attending school. unfortunately, the principal is an extremely harsh woman, and none of the students seem to enjoy it there. Matilda uses her courage and newfound powers to change her environment for the better, both at school and in her abrasive home.

such a good movie, a childhood favorite. the musical has a great soundtrack too!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Good Will Hunting

dir. Gus Van Sant - released 1997

a janitor is recognized as a mathematical genius by an MIT professor, and he goes on an emotional journey to embrace his intellect. starring Robin Williams, our dearly beloved inspiration, as the therapist Will goes to see for much of the film.

i only saw it once and my description is lacking but ooh it hurt...... just trust me on this one

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A Series of Unfortunate Events

by Lemony Snicket - published 1999-2006 tv series adaptation: aired 2017-2019

JUST HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE okay. it's about a trio of siblings, orphaned, who are shuttled from one parental unit to another while being followed by a man after their immense wealth. they quickly discover they are in the midst of an intellectual conflict in a secret organization. they must rely on only each other, seeing as all the adults around them are wildly incompetent and/or unhelpful. and it is filled to the brim with literary references!!

both versions have really fun and witty narration, and the tv adaptation is extremely faithful. i don't know how else to describe it without going overboard so i'll settle for not descriptive enough! just trust me. yes it is a kids' series and yes it is one of my favorites ever. it's the vibes of it all

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

If We Were Villains

by M.L. Rio - published 2017

about a group of Shakespeare theater students at a very pretentious arts school who find themselves in a very high-tension dynamic following a disaster that occurs after their halloween performance of Macbeth. lots and lots of Shakespeare, lots of dramatics, and the book itself is divided into five acts.

i finished this in about two nights and it was extremely creatively inspiring. it was a bit predictable, but that's not a bad thing. it still had me clutching my pearls and dropping my jaw

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"The Artist of the Beautiful"

by Nathaniel Hawthorne - published 1844

a romantic era short story about a man who feels utterly trapped by his occupation. he would rather concern himself with the delicate beauty of nature, and he attempts to realize this in his passion project - much to the disdain of the people around him.

a bit of a sneak sorry. i just think it's just in line with neil's whole thing you know. it's a lot of long and flowery sentences but it works really well i promise

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Breakfast Club

dir. John Hughes - released 1985

the letterboxd synopsis really says it all: "They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. | Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. The disparate group includes rebel John, princess Claire, outcast Allison, brainy Brian and Andrew, the jock. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently – and when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same."

i don't have much to add and to be honest! kind of a stretch for this list! but i have faith

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

obviously there are other shows and movies with the dead poets society leads, but i wanted to sort of branch out a bit for the bulk of this list. i will still list the ones i had in mind though

House M.D. (2004-2012) - tv series about genius diagnostician Dr. Gregory House and his team at a hospital in new jersey. Robert Sean Leonard stars as House's best friend and head of oncology Dr. James Wilson. very comedic but also very heartwrenching.

Tape (2001) - three friends meet at a motel room and dredge up and argue over unpleasant events of the past. starring Ethan Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard.

Before Sunrise (1995) - from letterboxd: "A young man and woman meet on a train in Europe, and wind up spending one evening together in Vienna. Unfortunately, both know that this will probably be their only night��together." Ethan Hawke plays one half of the lead duo.

and yeah there's a LOT more but those are the ones i've seen and sincerely recommend. not to say others aren't good but this is a (very) curated list you see.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

phew that's not as many as i thought i had in my back pocket but it's still pretty good. plus, there's some things i havent read/watched yet that perhaps would have made it but alas! such is life

absolutely add to the list if you'd like!! let's all share our favorite stories

[cordeliawhohung]

your new in limbo chapter was so good!! i was wondering if you picture chip and simon ever having kids? would it be something chip would’ve wanted before the whole marco business?

you know i was kind of going back and forth on this a bit!! which i'm not sure why because they're def not going to have kids in the story but i still think about them and their happily ever after lmfao. Also In Limbo spoilers under the cut.

I could see it going different ways, you know? Them settling down and wanting that quiet life. Living in the suburbs with a cozy house well away from the city. Maybe they'd have kids to fill that white picket fence dream. Probably not a lot. I feel like Chip would get frazzled with any more than two kids. I think having kids would heal something in both of them in a way. Simon being able to be the opposite of his father. Coming to the brutal realization that he was his son's age when his father waterboarded him. Promising to be so much better than that monster.

And maybe for Chip, in a way, too. Being able to love a proper family. Something that's hers. Something that she created and belongs in, not something that was given to her out of pity. She has this family because it's hers, not because she lost hers and someone decided to take her home like a stray.

Or, maybe they don't have kids. Maybe they spend their days relaxing and traveling. Learning to enjoy the world without fear. Without having to look over their shoulders. They settle down someplace quiet and end up adopting a lot of the neighborhood kids. Simon sees himself in a lot of the tykes. Everyone knows to go to their house for Halloween. They're the best aunt and uncle to little Joey. (I feel like Tommy and Beth are probably going to have more than just little Joey if i'm being honest, since they get to actually live in this universe lmao). Maybe they've got a room for him at their house, and they offer to take him for a weekend so Tommy and Beth can get some alone time (Mrs. Riley is usually not too far behind, how strange).

I think even before Marco, Chip was undecided. Since she's headcanonned as demisexual, I think for a long, long while she thought she was asexual/aromantic. The idea of dating and having sex was never really something she wanted. I think, even from an early age, she was very much wanting to be by herself. On her own. No partner, no kids. Marco definitely didn't help her explore more parts of her wants and sexuality (thank you Simon for helping her heal <3) so I think she's always been undecided in a way. Things change, obviously, as she grows and experiences and stops suppressing emotions that used to scare her.

So yeah, there's my two cents on that! I don't want to give a like, definite answer I guess? because i feel like the answer is most certainly still forming, but I guess you guys are welcome to imagine it however you'd like (:

[akanemnon]

Yeah, Kris is definitely NOT alright.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

already thinking "and by 'religious' really i mean 'christian'" re: how the term "religion" is not really useful when it's largely like, from a christian perspective, what is considered "equivalent" of christianity, see: perhaps a "rival"/obstacle to some person or group being considered christian....and even if not thinking about converting anyone, resulting in some at best misinterpretation / misrepresentation based on framing it through/as [element of christianity] and limiting of any more accurate language

like how tumblr recommends me a post about someone thinking about "religion" in general and concluding that it's Weird and perhaps Wrong for anyone who is a "true believer" in their religion(tm) to Not be proselytizing / trying to Convert everyone. like yeah why isn't everyone being an evangelical christian, they ought to be, benevolently informing all those around them that they're going to hell, otherwise. don't see any problem with this conclusion, or that someone's getting antisemitic in the notes already in agreement, or that That's Not How This Works and you don't just know how All "Religion" works based on considering it to be an alternate version of christianity (which in itself doesn't All work like that either)

[loverboybrightsideghost]

god i love being a musician

[pomefioredove]

only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

[elixrr]

“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”

➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli

➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader

➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)

➥ (comfort / fluff)

✧ - JING YUAN

“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”

This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.

✧ - ARGENTI

“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”

Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?

✧ - AVENTURINE

“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”

With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”

✧ - DAN HENG

“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”

His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.

✧ - BLADE

“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”

His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.

✧ - XIAO

“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.

✧ - CHILDE

“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”

And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.

✧ - WANDERER

“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”

Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.

✧ - ZHONGLI

“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”

Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.

yes, this was a heathers reference.

[sluttywoozi]

(Boy)Friend Material | Part I of II | csc x f!reader

You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.

Rating: sfw (this part) | WC: ~3k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: emotional fluff, friends/idiots to lovers

Warnings: suggestive thoughts, down bad reader, implied alcohol drinking, kissing

Matching with Seungcheol on Bumble was a fluke, or maybe a miracle, considering the fact that you re-downloaded the app on a whim and his profile was the first to come up. 

The second you saw him in that blue baseball cap and white tee, his jawline sharp and his bicep thick, you knew there was no point in trying to find anyone better. So you conferred with the group chat to crowdsource a good opening line, something about how his birthday should be a national holiday, and awaited his response with bated breath. 

He replied within minutes, saying that he’d always thought so but was intrigued as to why you did too, and you, ignoring your friends’ advice to play it cool, told him that he was obviously a gift to the masses to get them through these troubling times. He got bashful then, but apparently you didn’t come on too strong in a bad way, because the next thing you knew he was asking for your number and requesting to meet up for some coffee. 

That was four months ago, and though it never went further in a romantic sense, you know you’re lucky to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, the thoughts you have about Seungcheol aren’t the kind you’re supposed to have about a friend. 

You wish you could say you haven’t always wondered what those plush lips would feel like on yours, or if he’d be big enough to stretch you out, or whether he’d take you gently or pin you down and fuck you like he means it, but you’ve wanted Seungcheol ever since you first locked eyes with him, even if it was just through your phone screen.

It would be one thing if you only wanted to sleep with him, but it’s a million times worse because you want to love him too. You want to hold hands, and go on cute dates, and get him little gifts just to see his eyes light up. You want to fall asleep in his arms, and take care of him when he’s sick, and tell anyone who will listen that he’s your boyfriend. 

How could you want anything less when he looks like all of your dreams come to life? When he gazes at you with those big brown eyes, always listening so attentively, as if you’re the only one in his world that matters? When he takes care of you without thinking, like it’s just second nature?

Even at a house party like this, where there are plenty of girls eyeing him and more than a few of his bros wanting to talk to him, he’s by your side. The second your shoulders twitched in a shiver, his jacket was covering them. As soon as your cup was empty, he was accompanying you to the kitchen to refill it. And you know that when you give even a hint of wanting to leave, he’ll be guiding you to his car and taking you home, perfectly sober because he volunteered to be the designated driver tonight just so you could have fun and be safe. 

If only you could tell him to take you back to his place instead of yours. The problem is that he would, and he’d take your makeup off all gently, and give you a big t-shirt to sleep in, and tuck you into his bed before going to sleep on the couch, even though it hurts his back and his feet dangle off the edge. You know because that’s exactly what he did the time you managed to scrape together enough courage to ask if you could stay over after a night out. 

You can’t have a repeat of that, not when you woke up wishing you were his (after dreaming that he’d fucked you into his mattress). You barely kept yourself from begging him to make your dreams a reality that morning, especially when he greeted you with bedhead, a gravelly voice, and your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street. 

It took you weeks to get over it, to be able to look into his eyes without wanting to either confess your love or jump his bones. And still, almost two months later, you’re pushing down both of those desires. Holding your feelings back when you’re with him is a constant struggle, one that’s only made more difficult by his affectionate and protective nature. It’s becoming painful, knowing he likes you but not in the way that you like him, being so close to him but never as close as you want. 

Near Seungcheol is your favorite place to be, but you’re starting to think it’s not somewhere that’s good for you, which is distressing because at this point, he’s one of your best friends. You see him nearly every week for meals and little excursions, and you’d go for every day if you didn’t have to keep him from your other friends lest they give away your secret. You don’t know how you’d cope with not being around him, but you can only assume it wouldn’t be well when he’s so enmeshed in your life, even your landlord knows about him.

God, you cancel one maintenance call after Seungcheol fixes your leaky faucet and Jerry thinks every other repair request is bullshit…

You startle as Seungcheol leans in close to ask you something, though you’re too distracted by the weight of his hand on your waist to process his question. It’s warm even through the cotton of your shirt and the denim of his jacket, and he must think it’s too loud for you to hear him because he uses it to tug you closer as he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I think I’m just ready to go,” you respond weakly, forcing a smile that must look as fake as it feels. Knowing you’re not telling the truth about the first part, he frowns reproachfully at you and lets go of your waist to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling you behind him to the front door. There’s a chill in the air though it’s barely September, and he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, syncing his steps to yours and holding you tight.

It’s a short walk but the quiet tension makes it feel like eons have passed by the time you arrive at his sedan. He opens the passenger-side door for you and takes your bag so you can climb in unhindered, gently placing it at your feet before patting your knee and shutting you in. You watch as he jogs around the hood and gets in next to you, taking care not to slam his door. You wonder if it’s because the first (and only) time he did on a night like this, you thought he was upset with you for wanting to leave early. 

He was so sweet and concerned when you brought it up, instantly rejecting your offer to uber home so he could go back to the party as if he was offended you even asked, before telling you that there was no point in staying if he didn’t have you with him. That was just one of the many moments that have ruined you for anyone else. 

“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asks quietly, turning his body toward you and reaching for your hand. Unsure of what to say, you give it to him silently and fight back a shudder at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against yours. 

You hate lying to Seungcheol, partially because you always want to be honest with him but mostly because you’re so bad at doing the opposite. He picks up on it immediately, and then he gets this sorrowful, wounded look on his face and goes all quiet, which makes you feel like you’re the worst person on the planet. 

How honest can you be, though?

You could leave out the part about wanting him to fuck your brains out and lead with the non-platonic feelings you hold for him. Or you could leave out the emotional side of things and simply share that you want to ride him into the sunset. Or you could tell him everything, bare your soul and your pussy, and hope for the best. But what if the worst happens? What if he tells you he could never want you like that, that you’re like a sister to him, that he doesn’t want to see you ever again because you’ve ruined this friendship? 

You don’t think you can risk it. 

Still, you’d like to avoid deceiving him and hurting his feelings in the process, so maybe you could just be vague instead. 

“A lot of things, but nothing I want to talk about right now,” you finally answer, avoiding his eyes and pushing down the voice in the back of your mind that screams you’re a coward.

His mouth scrunches to the side and his brows furrow, but after a minute of silence, he accepts it. 

“Okay, just… You know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowers his head to find your gaze, sincerity emanating so brightly from him, it burns. 

Anything but this.

“I know,” you whisper, attempting a smile to appease him, though the way he sighs defeatedly and looks away makes you feel like you’ve just made him worry more. 

Facing the wheel again, he turns the key in the ignition and carefully reverses just enough to pull forward out of his makeshift parking spot. The music coming through his speakers is soft and low, too quiet to really fill the silence sitting between you and him, silence that isn’t usually there. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything at all, your body thrumming with a nervous energy that you’re sure Seungcheol can feel. 

Glancing over, you find his hands tight on the steering wheel and his lip caught in between his teeth. You hate the idea that your anxiety has seeped into him, but he’s always seemed to think your happiness is his personal responsibility, so you suppose it makes sense. 

“Are you taking the long way?” You ask in confusion when you face forward again and watch the on ramp to the highway pass you by. 

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay… Just wanted a bit more time with you,” he murmurs with a melancholy tinge to his voice. 

“Of course that’s okay, I love being with you.” Shit, you wanted to make him feel better but you didn’t mean to sound so-

“Do you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you never…” He looks over at you and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I know we’re taking things slow but I feel like you’re always holding part of yourself back from me. You never touch me, I’m always the one touching you. I make the majority of our plans. All my friends know you but I don’t know any of your friends,” he sighs in frustration and pulls over into an empty parking lot, putting the car in park. “And now tonight you don’t feel like you can tell me what’s wrong… I just- If you want to break things off, please just say so.”

When he finishes, he gazes at you, dejection swimming in his eyes like you’re breaking his heart. 

In your mind, you repeat the words that stand out to you as if they’re new arrangements of letters with meanings you’ve never encountered before.

T a k i n g  t h i n g s  s l o w.

B r e a k  t h i n g s  o f f.

What  t h i n g s?

“Seungcheol… Please don’t get upset, but I think we might not be on the same page,” you say slowly. “What are we? Because I was under the impression we were-”

“Friends,” you finish just as he responds, like it should be obvious, “Together.”

“You think we’re just friends?! We met on a dating app,” he bursts in a barely contained explosion. 

“You’re so hot, and sure, we went on that one coffee date, but we never went on any others-” You scramble to explain your reasoning. 

“We’ve gone on at least three dates a month since we met! Did you think we were just hanging out?” 

“...Yes?” 

“I plan them, I dress nicely, I pick you up, I pay,” he lists off on his fingers, clearly growing heated. 

“Okay, so maybe those were dates! But we don’t kiss, or have sleepovers, or talk to each other about our feelings,” you attempt to defend yourself. 

“I was trying to follow your lead,” he grimaces regretfully and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, could I have been kissing you this whole time?” 

“You could have been doing a lot more than kissing me,” you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the wishes and desires you’ve had since you first laid eyes on him. Then you see his face, and it doesn’t really feel funny anymore. 

He looks equal parts irate and amorous, that strong brow furrowed in displeasure though his gaze is greedy, like he’s had enough of you but at the same time, he could never get enough of you. 

“Alright, since I apparently need to lay it all out, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he turns to face you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You barely resist the urge to lean into it before realizing you don’t have to resist anything anymore when it comes to Seungcheol, your hand coming up to cover his and hold it to your face. 

His eyes soften at that, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he says, “First, we’re going to talk about our feelings and get on the same page. Then, I’m taking you to your place to pack an overnight bag and to mine for a sleepover, and this time I’m not staying on that goddamn couch. It’ll take a while to make up for four months of not kissing you, but we can start with tonight. Does that all sound good to you?”

“Everything sounds great,” you breathe dreamily, already envisioning being on your back beneath him with those perfect cherry lips on yours. 

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans, his head falling sideways against the headrest. “We have to talk first.”

“Are you telling me or yourself?” You ask teasingly, giggling when he squeezes his eyes shut and swears under his breath. 

“Both,” he sighs out before saying nervously, “I’ll start, because I’m a good boyfriend.”

You have to swallow down the squeal that threatens to burst from you just at the thought of Seungcheol being your boyfriend. 

“I’ve been into you since I met you,” he begins. “You make me laugh, you make my heart race, and you make me want you, all the damn time. The past four months have been the best of my life. You’re smart and beautiful and special and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Hearing Seungcheol say these things sends a rush of pure joy through you, followed by a flood of affection. He’s all you’ve wanted for four months, and now you know he likes you. And wants to be with you. It’s almost too much for you to handle… Almost. 

“Seungcheol, as soon as I saw you on that god-forsaken app, I knew I could stop looking. You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and devastatingly good looking, and I liked you so much that I tried to be happy just being your friend, but I always wanted more. I think it’s because I was so blinded by my crush on you that I didn’t realize we were more. We are more. Hopefully, you’re okay being with me for a long time, because I don’t know if I’ll ever want to let you go.”

He gazes at you, his face soft and his eyes earnest, adoring. “That’s fine with me,” he murmurs, leaning in. “Can I kiss you?”

“I literally thought you’d never ask,” you whisper, inching forward and holding your breath until his lips finally meet yours. 

They feel supple, lush, just like you knew they would, and he kisses you with a gentleness you didn’t expect. After four months of waiting, you thought he’d be impatient, rough, but he’s moving like he has all the time in the world, like you’re something worth savoring. He pulls away reluctantly, but you’re not done yet, your chin tilting so you can press your lips to his again. 

He sighs against you and you glide your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he opens his mouth to lick into yours. His hand shifts to cup your neck, tilting your head so he can kiss you at a different angle, and that’s when the moan slips out. 

It’s quiet, but obvious in the silence of the car, and you pause self consciously for a second before he brushes his thumb over your jaw and moans back. The sound is so hot that you’re inches away from unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console into his lap, your mind already wrapped up in thoughts of feeling his thick, sturdy thighs under you. He doesn’t let you get that far, breaking away with a gasp and staring at you heatedly, as if he can hear your thoughts. 

“I want too much from you for our first time to be in my car,” he pants raggedly, fighting to catch his breath after you attempted to steal it from him. 

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you acquiesce, watching as he shifts into drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. When he’s on the road again, he rests his palm on your thigh with a glance and a raise of his brow, as if to ask if his placement is okay. You just smile and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to shove down the giddiness bubbling up within you as you get closer and closer to your apartment.

AN: there was a natural separation between scenes so i decided to make this a two parter!! smutty part two will be posted sometime this weekend (hopefully)

please i am begging u to tell me ur thoughts and ur thots i am deep in seungcheol brainrot and i need to commiserate

edited to add: drop a comment to join the taglist!

PART II

[buckyalpine]

Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.

Why was he grumpier than usual?

Because something is not right.

Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.

Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.

"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"

He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.

"What's wrong"

Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.

"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.

The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.

"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.

"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"

"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...

"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."

"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.

"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-

"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.

You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.

"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.

Isn't he an absolute precious baby.

So cute.

Bonus scene:

Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.

"Awww Buckyyyy"

"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"

"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"

"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"

Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.

Yes.

Rubbing his tummy made him feel all better.

[buryustogether]

songbird

the ghoul x f!reader

summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?

wc: 5.7k

warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper

You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.

The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.

Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.

"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.

"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."

The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.

Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.

A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.

From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.

Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.

These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'

Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.

You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.

If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.

"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."

"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."

You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."

"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"

You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"

Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.

Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.

Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.

The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.

As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.

"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.

Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.

You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'

You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.

"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."

"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.

Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."

Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."

"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"

You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.

"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"

They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.

"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.

"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."

Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."

Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."

Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."

With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.

He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."

Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.

"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.

You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."

"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."

You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.

Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."

"For what, exactly, little lady?"

"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."

Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"

"What?"

"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.

"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.

"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.

A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"

You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."

"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.

"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"

"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."

You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.

The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."

As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.

"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."

Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."

"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"

"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."

Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."

"Cooper, I can't -"

Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.

"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.

You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.

He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.

Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.

"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.

Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.

Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.

You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.

"Let me see that book you've got there."

Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."

"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"

Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."

"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."

For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.

"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."

As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.

"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.

You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."

"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."

Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.

Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.

It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.

"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."

His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.

Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.

"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."

Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.

Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.

"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."

Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.

"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."

"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."

You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."

Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.

Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.

"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."

Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."

[anantaru]

— does he like it when you're being clingy?

including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men

— wriothesley

as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.

to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.

the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.

now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.

what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.

now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.

your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.

interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.

a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?

alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.

— neuvillette

in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.

and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.

"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.

neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.

you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.

don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.

and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.

instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.

"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.

"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.

he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.

"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."

"and here i thought you must know me by now?"

"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.

"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"

you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"

— kaveh

from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.

you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.

you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!

and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.

your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.

"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.

"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.

and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.

he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."

he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."

"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.

perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.

— scaramouche

even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.

in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.

scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.

but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.

he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.

your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 

although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.

what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 

next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.

thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.

what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.

"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."

"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.

"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.

"as long as you still love me, of course."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own