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norrizzandpia · 7 months

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Lacy (LN4)

Summary: To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should explain it I feel like

Warnings: language, angst, sad sad sad

Note: I think this wasn’t the best I could do so if y’all want a part 2 let me know bc i feel like i could redeem myself

Lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry. Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? Dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies, did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

Luisinha’s eyes twinkled as they stared up at Lando, Y/n huddled in the corner as she analyzed the girl. Lists upon lists of things she had that Y/n didn’t plagued her mind, tormenting every thought and destroying the little bit of self confidence Y/n had left. It was cruel, how sweet and perfect Luisinha was. There was no reason to hate her or criticize her, pick her apart until Y/n felt better about herself. That was the worst part, the thing that hurt the most. It wasn’t the fact that Luisinha possessed the one thing Y/n had yearned for for years before or the fact that Luisinha was loved by everyone. No, it was the fact that, when Y/n lay awake at night, she couldn’t blame anyone else for her mistake other than herself. It was gutting and tiring, but the knowledge that Luisinha was completely innocent, ironically, made Y/n hate her more.

Somebody’s arm brushing up against hers pulled her out of her deep thoughts, her head turning around to see who had taken up the space. When her eyes met that of Lando’s Australian teammate, she smiled.

“They’re cute, yeah?” Oscar chuckled, mistaking her staring for adoration rather than what it truly was; jealousy.

Nodding, Y/n tilted her head as if she really cared about the conversation, “Yeah, for sure. Never seen Lando happier.”

The words were bitter, admitting outwardly that she had never, and probably would never, be the reason for that specific smile on his face.

Oscar took a sip of his water as he looked on at the couple, “Don’t even know how she fell in love with him.”

The world went quiet for a moment as Y/n’s eyes frantically turned to sear into the side of Oscar’s face, “What?”

Her tone made his eyebrows furrow in confusion and the look on her face had him shaking his head, “Did Lando not tell you? They said ‘I love you’ like a week ago?”

Her body went numb, the information hitting her so hard it felt like the air had been taken from her lungs. As if things couldn’t get harder, Lando’s arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as he kissed her, very clearly lovesick. She felt stupid. Partially stupid for allowing the deepest part of her to think they would have a chance to be even remotely close to what he had with Luisinha, and the other part being stupid for not seeing how gone he was for her.

It was right in front of her, that part was chilling, but the other part that had her heart sinking was the fact that Lando had forgotten to tell her such big news.

Another thing added to the list of things Y/n didn’t have that Luisinha did; Y/n was forgettable, Luisinha wasn’t.

—

Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time. Watching, hidden in plain sight. And, oh, I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life, I see you everywhere. The sweetest torture one could bear.

Y/n was shivering, the coat she wore not enough to keep her warm in the cold Monaco weather. She checked her phone once more, trying to spot any message from Lando saying he would be there soon, but she came up empty every time.

The hostess, with a look of pity, eyed her from inside the restaurant, the table for two under the name of “Y/n” for the reservation taunting her as she realized what she was witnessing. However, the hostess thought it was Y/n’s boyfriend standing her up, not her best friend who had most likely forgotten about the dinner because he was with his girlfriend.

It took Y/n the next few minutes to pull herself together, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer his phone after the countless messages she had sent him asking when he was going to show up to the dinner they had planned weeks ago.

With her head hung low, she went back into the establishment, muttering words to the woman at the front about canceling her reservations and apologizing for the inconvenience. Before Y/n could turn around and sulk home, however, the hostess reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand gently. With a small smile, she whispered, “I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why he didn’t show, don’t lose hope just yet. I’m sure he loves you very much. You’re a very beautiful girl, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Nodding, Y/n didn’t look up from her feet as she thanked the woman and left. The reassurance the woman had intended to be comforting destroyed her just a bit more, resulting in controlled tears falling from her face as she rounded corners and crossed streets.

Whilst waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, Y/n pulled out her phone. Instagram was the first app she clicked, proving to be a wrong decision when she saw Lando had posted on his story. Painfully, it was a picture of him and Luisinha at his house with dinner on their laps. Ashamed of how hurt she was, she tried to convince herself that being mad at him was unnecessary. Her feelings were a product of her longing, something he couldn’t be blamed for. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help, but feel abandoned. Years of friendship down the drain as he got distracted with someone else, someone who gave him more than she could. Luisinha granted him connections to parts of the entertainment industry that could help to grow his companies, gain access to new opportunities.

She tried to convince herself she was happy for him, but that secured feeling never truly came even after she got home.

Looking at her phone once more with no response from Lando, she went to bed.

Or, at least, laid in bed. Previously mentioned nights of staying up to blame herself returning.

—

Smart, sexy Lacy. I’m losing it lately. I feel your compliments like bullets on skin. Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate. Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist. Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. You got the one thing that I want. Oh, I try, I try, I try, try to rationalize people are people, but it’s like you’re made of angel dust.

Nights like these were supposed to be fun. Max, Y/n, and Lando all staying out into the late hours of the nights, drinking and dancing in random clubs around the city. However, this time it proved to be bittersweet as Lando informed the group Luisinha planned to tag along.

Y/n’s smile was fake, of course, but she was prepared to plaster it on for the rest of the night if it meant Lando’s good mood was preserved. Of course, Luisinha had shown up in a designer dress that hugged her body in all the right ways. Her smile was showstopping as she hugged Y/n, whispering to her about how gorgeous she looked.

“Thank you. That’s very sweet. You look very pretty as well.” Y/n got out painfully, wanting nothing to do with the woman in front of her.

“Doesn’t she?” Lando butt in as if he was trying to drive the knife deeper in Y/n’s heart. Safe to say, he was successful.

She chuckled dryly when he started waving his arms animatedly around, shouting, “Gorgeous! Impeccable! Breathtaking!”

It was a wonder Y/n didn’t break down right then. Shades of betrayal dousing out the fire in her eyes, the life in her body, as her mind forced her to take a look back on all the times she had thought Lando loved her as much as she did him. The time when he drove to her house in the middle of the night because she got a stomach bug and was throwing up; the time when he pretended to be her boyfriend so a random man at a bar would stop making her feel uncomfortable; the time when he had opened up to her about his mental health struggles, finishing it off with telling her how much he loved her and appreciated her. That moment, out of all of them, was the worst to relive because it was in the way he said her name, the way his fingers had gripped her hand, as he told her how much he adored her whole being. His tone had made it sound as if a real love declaration was the cusp of his lips, although those specific words never came. Instead, it was a quiet silence as he waited for her to respond and she waited for him to tell her everything she had ever wanted to hear. Y/n had locked that memory away in her mind, it being too crushing to bounce around in her mind like the others did. So, when it came up as he yelled around in front of her about how beautiful his girlfriend was, she was pushed over the edge.

Suddenly, her dress felt too tight and she became too aware of the tips of her fingers touching the tops of her thighs. She no longer wanted to go out and hang out with people whom she wanted to forget about. But, the cruelty of the world seemed to be targeting her as an opportunity to bail on their plans never came, and she was forced to listen to Luisinha’s giggling after Lando whispered something in her ear.

No amount of alcohol could cure the putrid taste of unrequited love, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Shots on shots of vodka riddled the booth they had reserved in the back of the club. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sulk in her thoughts and allow herself to wallow in self pity.

Y/n was a fun drunk, but, that night, she was messy and sloppy, the complete opposite of what she knew Lando wanted. Luisinha had gotten tipsy; Luisinha had twirled around on the dance floor gracefully as if she couldn’t mess a single thing up; Luisinha had done everything right while Y/n tormented herself for being nothing like that. She couldn’t get out of her own head, clearly being too far gone alcohol-wise to think straight.

“Maybe you should slow down?” Max tried, coaxing the glass out of her hand when she had accidentally sloshed the liquid onto his lap.

Groaning and rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed her bag, “You’re no fun. I’m going to find someone else.”

Max shook his head, reaching out to grab her wrist, knowing Lando would kill him if he left Y/n alone like this, but she was too quick for him, disappearing into the crowd in a millisecond.

He shouted for her, eyes scanning the herd of people, before going to check outside, but he continuously came up empty. The situation became even worse when Lando came back to their table, Luisinha in tow, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Where’s Y/n?” He quizzed, his gaze falling on a frantic Max.

“She left.” He said as his eyes failed to meet Lando’s.

There was a silence before Lando tried again, “I’m sorry, what?”

Max scoffed, “Lando, she left. I don’t know where she went and, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her anywhere.”

Luisinha, being the angel she was, began looking around the club as if she could find Y/n in the spots Max had already looked.

“Did you call her?” Lando asked, pulling out his phone and clicking her contact.

It rang, continued to ring, until it clicked and he was met with an eerie quiet.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He asked softly.

Rustling and heels clacking was all he heard before her slurred words were saying, “I’m walking home.”

He shook his head immediately, grabbing his keys and nodding to Luisinha and Max, telling them he was going to go pick her up.

“No way, Y/n. Your house is so far from here on foot. Let me come get you and I can drive you home, how about that?”

She didn’t have much of a choice considering he was already outside of the club and unlocking his car, but that didn’t get through to her, “No, Lando. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially you.”

His foot stepped on the gas, driving toward her house and hoping to find her on his way there, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knew never to reason with a drunk, but she had been so distant lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what had happened to his best friend and the relationship they once shared.

Y/n huffed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Continuing down the road he was on, he saw, in the distance, a black, shimmering dress, similar to the one he knew Y/n had worn that night. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw her braced against a light post as she tried to take off her heels. Her hair was messy, eyes stained black with her smeared mascara, and, if Lando had to guess, she had been crying.

When he pulled up next to her, she scoffed loudly, “God, you can’t just leave me alone, huh? I said I didn’t want to see you, Lando. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He was visibly taken aback by her hostile nature, but, nevertheless, tried to get her in the car.

“Get in the car, Y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone when you’re this drunk.” He unlocked the doors and got out of the car, walking towards her only for her to take a step back.

“I don’t want to get in the car with you. Go back to Luisinha.” She was practically spitting her words, aggression dripping off every syllable.

Lando groaned, reaching out for her once more, but just missing her, “Stop being stubborn, Y/n. Get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”

Finally, her fuse having run out, she shouted, “NO.”

Lando’s arms flew out beside him, “Ok, why?!”

She threw her shoe at his legs and, if they hadn’t been so disappointed in the way their partnership had turned out, they would’ve laughed.

“Why’d you never tell me you and her said ‘I love you’?” She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as her anger took a new look, quiet and controlled.

He blinked at her, “Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lando. Why?” She shrugged, staring blankly at him.

He looked away from her, hesitant to answer with the truth. His change in attitude allowed Y/n to continue, “What about last week when you didn’t show up for dinner?”

He shook his head, “What dinner?”

Her jaw dropped and she began laughing, “You still don’t remember? Did you look at any of my texts? Never wondered why I called you so many times last Friday night?”

He thought back, remembering he had spent that night with Luisinha, nothing about Y/n blowing up his phone. To check, he pulled the device out, looking through his messages and seeing, lost in all the other people trying to get ahold of him, was her asking where he was.

He breathed out deeply, “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately.”

“No, don’t do that. It hasn’t.” He tried to convince her, but she seemed unimpressed.

“Alright, so then why did you forget to tell me such a pivotal moment in your relationship?” She tried again.

His head fell into his hands, shaking it side to side, before mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“How would I get hurt?” She said it as if he was stupid and being overly cautious for no reason. The fact that she was actually hurt by it, she wouldn’t tell him.

His eyes flew up to meet hers and in a small moment of confidence, Lando stated, “Because you love me.”

The four words hung in the air, painful and so incredibly true. She tried to come up with a deflection or some sort of counterargument, but, by the way he looked at her, she knew it was no use.

Sighing, “How long have you known?”

His hand grabbed ahold of her arm, her body finally not creating more distance, “That doesn’t matter. Y/n, this doesn’t change how I see you. In fact, knowing it’s true is good because…” He trailed off, their eyes lingering on each other as they both braced themselves for what was about to be said. Y/n let out a small smile for once that night and let herself get lost in the idea of what he was about to reveal, “I lo-”

Whatever he was about to say was completely interrupted when a car pulled up next to them, the window from the backseat being rolled down and Luisinha’s face popping out.

“Good, you found her! Let’s go home. Max and I are so tired.” She gave a tight-lipped smile, unknowingly having stopped a moment that would’ve ended her relationship. Her eyes seemed to follow their movements closely as if she was suspicious of the moment she had caught them in.

Lando looked back to Y/n, an apology swimming in his eyes, but she disregarded it. Muttering incoherent words, she yanked her arm from his hold and got in his car.

Defeated, once more, by the girl she wanted to be.

—

Lacy, oh, lacy. It’s like you’re out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do. Lacy, oh, lacy. I just loathe you lately and I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you.

Days after that night, Luisinha’s entire demeanor toward Y/n shifted. She became more antagonistic. Long gone were the sweet comments about Y/n’s appearance, in place were backhanded compliments that had more than a few people raising their eyebrows.

Everything Y/n did was scrutinized and corrected by her, making it seem as though Y/n was incompetent. Subtly mean, Y/n found her reason to hate Luisinha. It was bittersweet, truthfully. Something Y/n had wanted to feel for so long; pure annoyance at the other girl in Lando’s life, but, it also caused a rift between her and him.

Lando and Y/n, the supposed iconic duo, stopped talking. Disappearing from her so rapidly were the nights when they would go out to get food only to gossip the whole time; disappearing were the times when he would invite her out with him and Max. Suddenly, she was seeing Luisinha laughing along with Max as they sat in the same booth she had just a few weeks before on different fan accounts. Luisinha, the better version of her, had become her immediate replacement and it killed her soul. A family she once admired had been stolen from her at the hands of someone she still loved and the other a woman whom, no matter how harsh she was, Y/n would always idolize and yearn to be.

Confusing, nevertheless. Questions now kept her awake at night instead of the usual self-torment.

Wasn’t Lando about to tell her he loved her on that cold, quiet street?

If so, why would he have ousted her so easily?

Why had she given her all to someone who, seemingly, didn’t care?

But, the one thing that never left her alone, the question that agonized her the most was the one there could never be a satisfactory answer to.

Why couldn’t she be Luisinha?

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.

A/N: LMK KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS BOTH GOOD AND BAD IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS ONE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando imagine #lando x reader

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queenothegeeks · 10 days

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Awkward creator Drabble

Awkward creator drabbles part 2

If you have any ideas for characters you want to see, put it in the comments, or send in an ask. (Warning, this was written before Arlecchinos release, so pls be nice.)

After arriving in Teyvat, you had gotten swarmed with letters asking you (the creator) to come to everything under the sun. Plays, meetings, weddings, requests from all sorts of nobel and rich people, but you always declined. Not only because you knew you would freak out and be awkward, but because you didn’t feel like you would fit into that high-end and stuffy air, where everyone is trying to outdo one another, whether it be with their outfits, their hair, their gold and gems, and their property. But what happens when you get a letter you can’t refuse?

*Arlecchino edition*

When you got a letter that was sealed with the familiar mark of the Fatui, your heart skipped a beat. Up until now, everything had all been from people you didn’t know, and therefore, in your mind, were not powerful enough or important enough to care about going to meet with them. But Fatui, as you know, was not someone you should ignore. But, instead of a message requesting a fight from Childe or a meeting request from the Tsaritsa herself, it was a mere invitation to a tea party the Knave was holding.

Deciding to respond, you picked up your quill (you still didnt know how to use it properly), you wrote a letter back to the knave, hoping it sounded professional enough, accepting her invite, and detailing how excited you were, while also asking if there would be any others attending that you should be aware of, and if there was a dress code (god forbid you show up in sweatpants to a formal event).

A few days later, you got a letter back. It stated that you should “wear whatever felt comfortable” (whatever that means) and that it would be just the two of you, along with a few guards, though they were mostly going to be there for show. Obviously, you took “dress comfortably” as a “you must not have a hair out of place” and panicked slightly, worrying about what to wear. After tearing your closet apart, a mental breakdown or two, and a one way therapy session with a stuffed animal a random kid had given you, you set out.

(Imagine whatever outfit you want, bc i want to remain gn and be comfortable for everyone)

When you arrived, your jaw hit the floor. “A simple gathering” my foot! You suddenly felt very self conscious, picking at your outfit and nails, feeling out of place. You were led in by a masked guard, who brought you to a room with 2 massive couches, and more food than you could reasonably eat on a table in between them.

“The knave will be here shortly. She thanks you in advance for your patience, she is merely checking the perimeter of the building. Enjoy your tea party”

They said, quickly leaving the room, presumably to return to their place guarding the building.

“Thanks, you too!”

Realizing what you said, you were suddenly very glad they left as fast as they did. After waiting for a little while, Arlecchino walked in, not a hair out of place, walking with purpose.

“Thank you for waiting for your grace. I had some…issues that needed to be taken care of.”

“It's not a problem at all!”

You quickly interjected.

“Pardon my question, but was there a specific reason you wished to meet with me?”

“Do I need a reason to speak with the creator, and thank them for all they have done for this world? Or a reason to hopefully make an alliance?” She said,

“Nononono- not at all. It was just because I know back where I’m from, you would use tea time as a way to get important information across. With the prophecy approaching and everything, I was wondering if that's why you called upon me.”

“You would be correct. I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised you agreed to meet with me, considering you haven’t met with anyone else, no matter how important.”

You tensed a bit, not liking her tone. It wasn’t threatening, but it seemed like she knew more about you than the fact you hadn’t met with other people. Wait a minute…how did she know that?

“How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“You said I haven't met anyone else. You aren’t wrong, I haven’t. But the public doesn’t know that. In fact, one glance at any newspaper, and it's boasting about how “the creator themself was there”.

You started to ramble, your brain not worrying about being high end or fancy. The only thing on your mind was piecing together the information, just like how you would whenever a new genshin trailer or quest would come out.

“The only way you would have the truth would be if you were hella good at catching someone in a lie or just calling bs, which I know you are, or that you assigned people to watch me, which, using the information I have about you based on stuff from my world, wouldn’t be that far off. The House of the Hearth is very versatile, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say you could implant your children, and- you're smiling.”

“I didn’t truly know if you hadn’t met with anyone else. I was mostly seeing if you would reveal any information about these nobel’s if you had, if you were any good at lying that you had or hadn't gone, or, seeing if you would reveal things you knew about me, thereby showing the extent of your knowledge about this world and its people. Now, back to the topic from before, now that I know you are aware of who I am, tell me, what's going to happen to Fontaine, and how do I save it?”

Oh sh*t.

#genshin impact #arlecchino genshin #sagau #sagau brainrot #the brainrot is real #self aware genshin

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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request; hi! i love your writing! if you could maybe do “tell me about your day.” with jj! maybe he’s your first boyfriend & you’re taken back by such a simple question/gesture since nobody has ever cared about you in that way before.

warnings; fluff

pairing; jj x fem!reader

authors note; writing blurbs rn bc of writers block (sorry to keep saying that btw i just repeat myself in case there’s a new reader, though i am currently starting to get over it) but still send in requests for one shots, imagines, etc. you may choose a blurb from the list below or send in your own idea.

other ways to say i love you prompt list

2 months.

So fresh, and so perpetually new.

Honeymoon phase striking JJ as something that would actually last this time. Not that he had many relationships to base it off of, but the past few he had typically went sour within the first few weeks.

None of them could get along with his way of life, or they just simply didnt appreciate the wholeness of everything that was JJ.

But he sensed it with you; he felt it in his bones, under his skin, on the tip of his tongue, every ounce of his being felt you, even if you weren't in the room.

This was his most serious, longest, emotionally involved, admiration filled relationship he'd been in.

This was your first relationship, but after being underwhelmed in his past endeavors he found this to be his first too.

And he's thinking about you first thing when he wakes up in the morning, last thing when he goes to sleep- unable to function properly if you weren't near.

JJ was your first everything; first kiss, first time holding hands, first time cuddling, first time being sexually involved with a boy.

But, Christ were your standards low about yourself.

Initially thinking a human with such with breathtakingly confined gestures didn't exist like JJ.

He proved you wrong, convincing you that everyone else in this world were heathens.

He taught you how to create such passion for another, how to know someone's heart and you did the same.

"How was your day, baby?"

It rolled of JJ's tongue, finitely. The two of you were entangled in the hammock at the Chateau, and you were cradled into JJ's arms. Attached to his side, whilst he studied your features; peering down at your scrunched up nose as if you were heaven sent. You thumbed over the material of his beer-stained Heyward's t-shirt, coming to a halt at that question. Almost like the hammock stopped swinging, the unearthly beaming sun stopped shining on the two of you, and as if you'd sunken into the mucky ground.

You were in awe, glaring up at JJ like he'd grown two heads.

Was he being serious? You thought.

"Something on my face? It's okay you can tell me-"

"No m'just ... you meant to ask me that?"

Stunned, was an understatement, as you are now propping your chin onto JJ's muscular chest, needing a better view. Almost uneased and taken aback as that wasn't an everyday question anyone asked you— lead alone a boy.

"Course' I did ..." and then he noticed your furrowed eyebrows. "C'mon, what's goin' on in that pretty little head?”

"Nothing J, you're the first guy to ask me that."

""Let's keep it that way, baby. I'll be the only one."

He's repeatedly pecking the skin of your forehead leaving you to say, “Since I've met you all of my days have been perfect."

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theragethatisdesire · 11 months

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dall'inizio - eren x reader, 18+!!!!

welcome back to the ti penso universe everyone!!!! this is a continuation/prequel of the little series we've followed from my first eren x reader fic. i was really interested to see how they met and ....unsurprisingly, it's a one night stand that doesn't turn out as planned. this one is also super fun because we get to hear from both eren AND reader alternatively, plus reader is a confident, bad bitch and we love that for her. this one goes out to @philliam-writes bc ik you love this eren as much as i do!!!!!! here's ur part 3 bestie >:)

if you'd like to catch up and meet our eren x reader, find them here:

(1) ti penso ogni giorno

(2) nel bene e nel male

pairing: eren x afab reader

wc: 6.7k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol/drug use (just weed nothing crazy), cussing, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a lovestruck idiot (and so are you if you're being honest)

title (as always) means "from the beginning" in italian i'm obsessed with them <3

“You look like a whore,” Ymir says bluntly, dragging her eyes over your outfit– or, lack thereof.

“It’s not that bad,” you wave her off, turning back to the mirror to tug at the hem of your little black slip. You do look like a whore, but it’s intentional. You haven’t gotten laid in three months– your friends have been calling you dramatic, but that’s a lot, okay? You’re in college, you’re supposed to sleep around, right?

On top of that, your last few situationships just haven’t quite…well, they weren’t bad, but they didn’t scratch the itch. You desperately need a fuck– not just a fuck, a good fuck, and you have a feeling tonight’s going to be the night. It’s Halloween, the international holiday for running around in basically zero clothes, and you’ve taken great care to adhere to that tradition.

“Are you a mouse?” Historia wrinkles her nose at you from her spot at the vanity in the corner. She’s in a dalmatian costume; cute, spotted ears sticking up from her blonde hair, blue collar tinkling when she cocks her head at you.

“I’m a fucking cat,” you mutter, drawing a black triangle of eyeliner on the tip of your nose, “I didn’t have time for a real costume.”

“She just wants to get laid,” Mikasa announces, pushing through the studio apartment door with a huff, arms laden with plastic bags that are making a tell-tale clinking sound, “it’s been like, two whole weeks.”

“Three months!” You correct her, defensive.

“I understand,” Ymir, appropriately dressed as Cruella de Vil, grins, “it’s been…what, Stor? Two hours?”

“Ymir!” Historia, scandalized, flushes a furious red. Both you and Mikasa are unphased; in the last four months they’ve been together, the three feet they’re sitting from one another now is the farthest apart you’ve seen them.

“I’m not a whore,” you turn around, hands on hips, “I just…it’s been awhile since I had good sex. Floch was–”

“The worst?” Mikasa finishes for you. You hate how well she knows you; even after less than two years of knowing each other, she can practically read your mind.

“Yeah, you may have mentioned that once or twice,” Historia turns back to the mirror, immediately disinterested. “Or a thousand times.”

You throw your hands up, turning back to the mirror to finish your whiskers. “So none of you can blame me.”

“While you two,” Mikasa points between Ymir and Historia accusingly, “have been screwing like rabbits, and you,” her black-painted fingernail finds its way to you, “have been trying to figure out how to sleep with half of Manhattan, I took the liberty of actually making plans for us.”

“Jean’s?” You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, grateful to put someone else in the hot seat for the night. Mikasa’s cheeks tinge pink. Busted.

“He’s throwing a party, yeah,” she answers slowly, trying to talk her way around her obvious attraction to him, “but it’s not those douchebags he usually hangs out with. My best friend from home, Eren, just got into town, and,” she looks at you pointedly, “some of his friends are actually cute.”

You’re unconvinced. “Pictures?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mikasa bites her lip mischievously, “but if you take a few tequila shots with me, I might be persuaded to show you one or two.”

You’re dubious. Mikasa’s definitely shown you a photo of these guys before, and you don’t remember a standout in the lineup. This Eren character, however…Mikasa has a framed picture on her bedside nightstand of them in high school, and you remember him being sort of cute. Dark, short-cropped hair, big green eyes so wide and earnest that he almost reminded you of a movie character. That picture was three or four years old now so…who knows? Maybe he’d grown into his features.

“Eren’s a no-go, though,” Mikasa continues, knowing your exact train of thought of course, pouring out shots of lukewarm, cheap tequila. Your stomach gurgles in protest at the smell as you accept yours. “He’s a nightmare to women, trust me.”

“Who knows,” Ymir pipes up, nodding her head towards you, “she’s a nightmare to men, so.”

“I am not a nightmare,” you narrow your eyes, “I just don’t like to be tied down, that’s all.”

“You’ll have to be at some point,” Historia argues, smiling when Ymir slips a hand into hers. You wrinkle your nose, uninterested.

“It’s 2018, Stor, not very feminist of you,” you tut, throwing back your shot and practically choking it down. Ick.

“I’m a lesbian, how much more feminist can I get?”

“Touché.”

“Just promise me you won’t get wrapped up with him?” Mikasa eyes you, still not trusting the glint of curiosity in your eye.

Ymir crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you positive you like Jean and not this Eren dude?”

Mikasa makes a fake retching sound. “Eren’s practically my brother. I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I can count. Way past the attraction threshold, trust me. I just…I know him. And I know you,” she glares at you, “it’s a toss-up as to who would do more damage to the other.”

“I’ll behave,” you placate her, throwing your arms around her shoulders, “…maybe.”

Eren might puke. No, wait, he’s going to puke– oh, no, just an unbelievably loud burp. Eren smiles contentedly, feeling much better even as it stinks up the entire taxi. Connie leans over Armin, scrunches his nose and squints his eyes.

“That fucking reeks, dude!”

“Sorry,” Eren shrugs, turning his head back to the window and ignoring Armin and Connie’s complaints. They were all a few beers deep- what did they expect?

Eren’s lived a few hours outside of New York City all his life, but he’s never been, except maybe once or twice for field trips as a kid. He never remembered it looking like this, though: each little apartment twinkled like a star, giving the wall of skyscrapers the appearance of the night sky. Even as the cab screeches and jerks in the Lower West Side traffic, Eren feels like he’s in a spaceship, free and flying amongst the stars.

Maybe he could talk to Zeke, convince him to move their little operation out of their garage and into the city. There was money here, right? And plenty of musicians who weren’t quite good enough to get signed by any major labels…

“Mikasa says she and her friends will be over in five,” Armin squints at his phone screen, holding it far away from him like an old man to type a response. Eren nearly rolls his eyes.

“Would you just get some fucking glasses already?”

“Annie said they made me look nerdy,” Armin shrugs. Connie groans.

“You two broke up like, a year ago–”

“Six months,” Armin corrects him, eyes growing sadder by the second.

“Okay, six months, whatever, we’ve got to get you laid tonight, dude.”

Eren lets the two slip into an argument about the “appropriate amount of time” to wait to sleep with someone after a breakup, much preferring his unusually contemplative mood to Connie and Armin’s bickering after their four-hour train ride together. He smiled to himself; God, it would be good to see Mikasa again. He wouldn’t have admitted it at gunpoint, but she was practically his mom growing up, and she’d been gone for over a year, only visiting for Christmas. Rumor had it that she’d been spending a lot of time with Jean as of late, so he needed to see what that was all about, too.

And who had Eren been spending a lot of time with lately? No one but bar rats and slim pickings from the frat parties at Trost University near his hometown. When was the last time he’d even gotten laid? A month? Two? Her name had been Jenna…no, Jenny? Josephina? Fuck, he should remember that. Eren needs to get laid, regardless, but if he dares to step near any of Mikasa’s friends, she’ll kill him, he knows that from experience. Then again, maybe this weird-ass Jean situation would come in handy. If Mikasa ends up distracted…

“Excuse me!” Armin disturbs his thoughts once again; Eren scowls. “Excuse me, sir? I think we’re here.”

Eren pays for the cab. Armin had bought the train tickets and the chain-gang costumes they were all currently sporting, and Connie was always flat broke, insisting his music career would work out soon. That could be Eren’s fault, though: Connie was one of his and Zeke’s first “clients”. None of them even bothered keeping up with the money exchanged between each other anymore; Connie had been in their kindergarten class, Armin’s mom had changed all of their diapers, Mikasa’s parents were the “cool parents” that let them smoke weed in the backyard, Jean’s mom made the best potato salad. They were a little family, separated by life and college at the moment, but a family all the same. Eren felt a little tingle of appreciation in his stomach as they climbed the stairs to Jean’s walk-up.

“Jaeger!” Jean was dapping him up and smacking a fist against his back before Eren could even properly look around the dark apartment.

“Kirstein,” Eren returns his embrace and has to shout over the music, suddenly smacked with a wave of homesickness at the familiar smell of weed and Jean’s tacky Hugo Boss cologne.

“Make yourself at home, dude,” Jean’s nearly inaudible over the thumping house music. He’s got some stupid mummy costume on that exposes his lean stomach, basically just shirtless and wrapped in toilet paper. Eren stifles a laugh, looking around the apartment for any other familiar faces.

Reiner approaches him next, a goofy, drunken grin splitting his face wide open, tackling Eren in a bear hug. Most of the greetings go like that; I miss you! How are you? How’s the business? Are you still in Shiganshina? It makes Eren’s chest tight, makes him miss the closeness of the people he loves. He was just always fucking working, helping Zeke with paperwork, running around town talking to clients, pulling at his face late at night looking over the finances of everything. He feels wound up, ready to burst, but the blunt and beer Bertholdt just handed him should fix that, at least somewhat. He needs…fuck, he needs to get laid.

His eyes search the room, looking for the one person he’s looking most forward to seeing, but he doesn’t find Mikasa where he expects.

She’s perched on Jean’s lap, giggling over her drink as Jean waves his arms wildly, telling her a story. That bizarre sight only holds Eren’s gaze for a moment, though, because there you are beside her, grinning wickedly with one of those stupid vapes between your teeth.

Eren stops dead in his tracks, speechless. Where do they even make women like that? He goes bottom to top, letting himself be impressed with how well you’re balancing on those high heels, ravishing every naked inch of your exposed legs until he reaches the hem of– fuck, is that just lingerie? Whatever little black thing you’re wearing, it makes his heart race, makes his pants tight. It’s low-cut in the chest enough to tease, a little collar around your neck, and your face…even your face makes him hard, so beautiful in the low lighting, eyes glimmering. You look evil and fun and sexy all at once, and Eren’s sold within the first ten seconds of seeing you.

Before he can make a beeline in your direction, he realizes he’s taken his gaze off of Mikasa and Jean long enough for them to approach him, Mikasa throwing her arms around his neck.

“Eren!” She squeals in his ear, clearly already drunk. Eren chuckles, trying to rein himself in enough to hold a stable conversation. The little black dress flashes behind his eyes as he smiles down at Mikasa.

“Hey Mika,” he ruffles her hair, making Mikasa grumble and reach towards her head to right what he’s ruined. His eyes wander back to you; you’re watching him too, sizing him up. He wonders if you like what you see, pulls at the zipper of his orange jumpsuit to inch it down, reveal some of his stomach. Eren’s not conceited per se, but he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the gym, and he knows it shows. As your gaze travels down to where he holds his zipper, Eren can’t look away, knows it must be obvious that he’s distracted.

“Bro,” Jean snaps his fingers in front of Eren’s eyes, looking over his shoulder to see what Eren’s staring at. He turns back with a smirk. “Yeah?”

Fuck, now Mikasa’s looking off in the same direction, returning her eyes to him with a scowl. Drunk or not, she never fails to scare the shit out of him. “No. No fucking way, Eren.”

“What?” Eren sips his beer innocently, shrugging. He was only staring…for now.

“She’s my best friend, Eren, no,” Mikasa says, firmer this time.

“Thought I was your best friend?”

“Didn’t she just break things off with Floch like…” Jean trails off at the withering glare Mikasa shoots him, turning red.

“She’s off-limits.” Eren nods, her words going in one ear and out the other. Mikasa’s scolded him before, and she won’t stop anytime soon, so what’s one more? She can read his mind, evidently, because she reaches up and pinches his cheek, yanking him down to her level.

“Ow!”

“Off. Fucking. Limits.” Mikasa seethes. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah I- fuck, let go! I hear you Mika,” Eren rubs his sore cheek, frowning. He can see you laughing at him, eyes barely visible over the edge of your drink. Great, Eren thinks; getting a talking-to from Mikasa like a child was not the first impression he wanted to give you.

Mikasa’s grabbing Jean’s hand and pulling him back towards the crowd, presumably to play guard dog for you, but before she can get him too far, Jean leans back towards Eren, cups a hand around his mouth.

“She’s single, bro,” Jean manages to get out before Mikasa pulls harder, “go for it!”

Eren grins. If Mikasa wanted to bite his head off for this, now he could blame it on Jean. What the hell was he supposed to say to you, though? You’re leagues above the girls he’s been pursuing. If Eren’s honest with himself, he’s intimidated by you, but his only solution is to throw some more of his beer back for liquid courage. He’s always loved a challenge.

When he pulls the cup away from his face, you’ve appeared in front of him, smiling demurely and nearly making him jump out of his skin.

“Hi.”

The second you saw him, you were hooked. He was gorgeous, dark hair pulled into a little half-bun on the back of his head, pretty eyes, and tall and broad to boot. He was almost stern-looking, dark eyebrows shielding his eyes. Dark and mean, just the way you like them.

Mikasa had given him a massive hug, interrupting the clear eye-fucking you were engaged in across the room; so that was Eren? Her long-lost best friend that was always too busy to visit? The happy kid from the picture? You watched her scold him, giggling to yourself at how childlike he became, crumbling under Mikasa’s pinch and pouting when she let him go.

You had no choice, really. Your promise to Mikasa had flown out of your mind the moment you saw those full lips pursed around the blunt, blowing out a puff of smoke, stretching into a wide, dangerous smile. You’re an only child and admittedly, a bit spoiled, so when you want something, you get it.

“Hi,” you can’t manage anything more clever, not face to face with his bare chest. Jean’s apartment is stuffy, and you catch the gleam of sweat on his chest in the LED lighting. You lick your lips.

“Hi,” Eren responds stiffly, looking as surprised as if you’d just punched him in the gut.

“You’re Eren, right? Mikasa’s friend?”

Eren hits his blunt again, nods slowly. “I don’t think we’ve met though, you’re…?”

You give him your name. He smiles and repeats it, rolling it around on his tongue and getting a taste for it. You can already see little hearts in his eyes, it makes you grin to yourself. You had expected him to put up more of a fight; there’s a dozen girls in this room alone that would fall all over themselves to get him in bed, but he’s enraptured by you, eyes never leaving your face. You’ve got him.

“A cat, huh?” Eren addresses the costume, dipping his head in the direction of the little black ears on your head. You’re suddenly embarrassed, feeling a bit silly.

“I, uh, didn’t really have time to shop,” you shrug, pulling at the hem of your dress. Eren’s mouth quirks up. “A prisoner?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get to pick. I like yours, though, it fits you.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “A cat fits me?”

“Yeah,” Eren says, growing surer by the second, “I don’t know. Just fits. S’cute.”

You’re embarrassed by the giddy flutter in your stomach. God, he’s delicious. “You think I’m cute?”

“I think lots of things about you,” Eren replies, voice low and sultry and hardly audible over the music. His eyes widen like he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but it’s too late now. You grin, all teeth and bad intentions.

“We just met,” you point out. Eren’s confidence has returned, he boldly brings a hand to the spaghetti strap of your dress. His fingers are hot– why do men always run so hot? His touch almost burns.

“You wore this,” he rubs the fabric between his fingers, “and expect me not to have a few thoughts on it? Wasn’t that the point?”

The breath leaves your lungs. Your confidence fizzles at the same rate as your arousal grows. There are plenty of hot guys here, but you might have jumped into the deep end with this one. Something flickers in his eyes, something hungry.

“Why don’t you tell me about these thoughts of yours?”

“I will,” Eren nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, “later.”

“Later?”

“We’re at a party,” Eren takes the empty cup from you, replacing it with his own, much larger hand, “shouldn’t we at least dance a little?”

Before you can argue, he’s pulling you out into the center of Jean’s obnoxiously spacious living room, into a jungle of sweaty, gyrating bodies. You’re close enough to the speakers now that the bass pounds through your body to the same rhythm as your heart thudding in your chest. The crowded, makeshift dance floor pushes you into Eren, skin against skin. You have a fleeting moment to be grateful that you’re likely now obscured from Mikasa’s view before a pair of strong hands around your hips prevent any more conscious thoughts from taking shape in your brain.

“One of my thoughts,” Eren’s right beside your ear now, voice echoing in your brain, “is that I like you. Like this body.”

“T-thank you,” you stammer out, wanting to facepalm at not only your stupidly simple response, but the weakness in your voice.

“Move it for me.”

You obey him, letting your body move with the music, trying not to get too caught up in whether or not you look ridiculous with how you’re pressing your body into his, arms thrown around his neck. Eren seems to like the way you move on him, pushing and pulling your hips in the rhythm you’ve set, looking down his nose at you with bloodshot eyes.

Your panties are growing wetter by the second; he’s intoxicating, the feel of him against you, firm and tacky with sweat. His hands are tracing up your sides, dragging slowly as if he’s memorizing the curves of your body. You haven’t known him long enough to want him the way that you do, humiliated by the carnal desire simmering in the pit of your stomach, but you’ve had enough tequila not to care. The whole thing is too similar to what you really want, and you make it through a solid seven or eight songs before you can’t take the stifling tension between the two of you any longer, thick enough to cut with a knife.

You lean up on the tips of your toes, wobbling in your heels, and grab him tight around the neck, pulling him to you. Your lips finally meet; Eren’s slow to respond as you’ve caught him off guard, but he catches on quickly, lips falling open so you can kiss him deeper. His lips are softer than you expect, supple and giving as they move with yours. You trace your tongue through his teeth, hardly suppressing a whine. He tastes good, like cheap beer and weed and lust. You drink him in, a satisfied hum buzzing in your chest.

Without warning, Eren practically rips you off of him. “Not here.”

He’s dragging you through the people around you, knocking them out of the way and not stopping to apologize when he gets offended looks. He pulls you into what you know to be Jean’s room, wastes no time in shoving you up against the door and blocking you in with his wide shoulders.

You swallow hard; you’ve underestimated him.

“Another one of my thoughts,” Eren mouths at the area beneath your ear, makes you groan, “is that you’re pretty. Like, very fucking pretty. Bet you’re twice as pretty under this dress.”

“I think you’re pretty, too,” you manage to say, forcing the words from your mouth. Eren chuckles, smiling against the shell of your ear.

“C’mere,” he tilts your chin up, kissing you again. It’s troublingly gentle, long and languid as your mouths move against one another. He kisses you like he loves you; the thought makes alarm bells ring in your head, and you nip at his bottom lip to break up the emotional momentum, sink your teeth into it. Eren pulls back, chuckling down at you. “You’re mean.”

“Only a little.”

“Is that what you like?” Eren thumbs at your mouth, slipping his finger between your lips. You suck greedily, rubbing your tongue against the roughness of his fingertip. “Like it a little mean? Between you and me, I like ‘em a little mean, too.”

You nod, gently biting on his thumb. Eren groans, a low rumble deep in his chest. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”

He’s pulling your dress over your head before you can stop him, sucking in a sharp breath when he gets an eyeful of your lace-clad breasts, the tiny thong you’ve slipped over your hips. Stronger than you’d expected, Eren pulls you up to wrap your legs around his waist, slamming your back against the door with a loud thud and knocking your stupid cat ears to the floor. You can hear a few sounds of surprise from outside; surely that got a few people’s attention, but you’re lost in him, whimpering at the feel of his jumpsuit costume rubbing against your clothed center.

Eren’s sloppy, placing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to suck a bruise underneath your ear. You gasp, canting your hips into his stomach, desperate for friction. You’re normally not so uninhibited, but Eren’s doing something to your head, has your mind spinning. He’s carrying you over to the bed, dropping you down onto Jean’s sheets. Eren leans down to pull your heels off, a sweet gesture if you could find the presence of mind to acknowledge it. You feel a flicker of guilt about doing this in Jean’s bed, but when Eren starts sliding a hand up your thigh, it flickers away into nothing, swallowed by your bottomless want.

“Look at that,” Eren smirks, rubbing his fingers over your panties, “soaked. This all for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine, hips jerking up towards his touch. It is for him, it was from the moment you laid eyes on him, and you both know it. His hands are everywhere: unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down, palming at your tits. You arch your back up to him, offering him your chest; he responds by closing down on one of your nipples with his teeth.

“So pretty,” Eren’s murmuring around the mouthful of your flesh he’s got, twisting the neglected nipple of your right breast between his fingers, “so pretty.”

“Eren,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of its bun and wrapping the hair band around your wrist. His mouth is hot, scalding, even, but you pull him closer to you anyway, pressing his face into your tits. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, letting you move him this way and that, show him what you like and how to pull those pretty moans out of your mouth. Before long, he’s kissing his way down your stomach, hands gripping your hips like a lifeline.

“Want a taste,” Eren sounds more like he’s talking to himself than to you, “need to taste this pussy.”

“Eren,” you reach for his hair, trying to pull him back up to you. While you’d love to see what the mouth that had just kissed you breathless could do between your legs, the thumping music outside is an annoying but consistent reminder that there’s an entire party outside and you’re in Jean’s bedroom. The clock’s ticking. “Want to feel you, we don’t have time for–”

“Don’t have time?” Something wicked lights Eren’s face up as he shimmies your panties down your legs. “Believe me, it won’t take long.”

“Eren,” your protest is feeble but earnest, and you make another attempt to reach for him when a long, thick lick up your center renders you near-unconscious. You moan, a little louder than you would have liked to.

“See? Gonna make you feel so good, trust me,” Eren’s punctuating each word with a little kiss somewhere on your pussy: your clit, your lips, right over your fluttering entrance. You have no choice but to whimper and nod, canting your hips up towards him. You look down, immediately regretting it: Eren’s wiggled out of his costume, naked and beautiful and staring up at you from between your legs. You’re hardly able to swallow the inhuman sound that threatens to rip from your throat.

Where he’d been cool and calculated pulling you onto the dance floor, you quickly learn that Eren eats pussy like he can’t control himself, like his life depends on it. His massive hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, securing you against his face as you try to squirm away. He licks into you enthusiastically, moaning against you at the taste, sending a succession of vibrations through you that go straight to the fire in your stomach.

When his lips close around your clit and suck hard, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stop a wail from reaching the ears right outside the door. Eren takes the opportunity to sneak a finger into you, curl it right against that gummy spot in your walls that has you seeing stars. As he works his finger in your cunt, he kisses his way back up to your mouth, greeting you with a sloppy kiss.

“Feels good, right?” Eren’s face is literally dripping with you, a sharp-toothed grin barely visible in the dim light.

“Feels good,” you whimper, daring to look down to where he’s grinding his palm against your clit. You can see the veins of his muscular arm straining as he pumps in and out of you; it’s a lewd sight, one that makes your head spin. “‘S so much Eren, I— fuck.”

“Yeah?” Eren’s smile grows darker, another finger slips into you easily. You’re practically dripping onto the sheets at this point, rolling your hips against his hand with your mouth hanging open. It’s humiliating but too gratifying to stop. “Gonna cum for me? You can do it, give it to me.”

“God– close, so c-close,” you can barely find the words to respond, the pressure in your belly swelling at an alarming speed. You’re going to squirt, you know you are, should move off of Jean’s bed or warn Eren or do something, but it’s too late.

You thrash in Eren’s grip, cumming so hard you think you can taste blood where you bite your lip. You can feel the wetness spraying from you, soaking Eren’s hand and the sheets and your inner thighs, can distantly hear your pitiful cries, but you’re powerless to do anything about it until the mind-numbing orgasm’s run its course. Eventually you do settle, babbling incoherently into Eren’s shoulder about Jean’s ruined sheets, about how you’re sorry for making a mess. Eren shuts you up with his mouth on yours; you can hear the distant rip of a condom wrapper.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he laughs, rolling on top of you and lining himself up, “gonna have to keep you.”

Before you can even think to offer to return the favor or make a sarcastic remark about how you’d never let anyone keep you, Eren’s pressing into you, and your mind short-circuits. Shit, maybe you’d let him keep you.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the darkness, but he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had before, and big enough that you realize this when he’s not even halfway in.

“Eren…it’s so– s’big,” you hiccup into his shoulder, fingernails clawing into his biceps.

“Is it too much, baby?” You hate pet names, hate them, but from the greek god splitting you open right now, you love it, want to lick the word right out of his mouth and taste it on your own tongue. The genuine concern glittering in his eyes, the little furrow between his brows as he pauses, frowns down at you, fuck, you might be in love.

“No, not too much– feels good.”

Eren’s grin is feral. “Yeah? Tell me.”

“Feels so fucking good,” a little giggle sneaks out from your clenched jaw, Eren smiles wider and cups your face to kiss you again, far too gently to match the way he’s stretching you, bullying your cunt into the shape of him.

“Feel full?”

“Mhm,” he’s bottomed out now, impossibly deep, and you give him a little roll of your hips to show him just how okay you are, that you’re ready to see what he can really do.

“You’ve got–” Eren rolls his hips experimentally, punches a moan from your chest– “the best fucking pussy. So tight for me.”

Ordinarily, dirty talk makes you cringe, but something about the way he words things, as raw as if his inner monologue is spilling out of him, turns you on, makes your cunt clench down around him. That makes him happy, he sucks in a breath of air and starts pounding into you hard enough to make tears well in your eyes, hard enough to make you squeal in a way no one else ever has.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby,” Eren’s hands are grabbing your face, his lips pressing into your forehead, “never gonna let this pussy go.”

You grant him a long moan of agreement, so cockdrunk that for now, you’re more than happy to sign your freedom away to stay in this bed, pinned underneath him for all of eternity. He’s fucking into you so deep he’s practically in your throat; your breath comes out in short little huffs, choking on the brutal pace of his fucking. And god, he’s so big, but you’re taking him somehow, like you were made for it.

Eren moves one of his hands away from his face to swat your fingers away from where you’re digging into his arms, surely close to drawing blood.

“Fucking hurts,” he hisses, “just as mean as you are pretty, y’know that?”

He easily manhandles your arms above your head, pinning them above you by your wrists. The way he stretches his body to do so changes the angle he’s fucking into you at; now he’s hammering into the spot inside of you he’d found far too quickly with his fingers. Your eyes shoot open at the change, and Eren doesn’t miss it. He smirks.

“Right there?”

“God, yes, please– right there,” you sound pathetic, the few surviving rational brain cells you possess are laughing at you, but there’s no help for it. He’s already got you spiraling towards cumming again, the wetness from your cunt creating a sucking sound where he’s moving in and out of you.

“Fuck, m’close. Think you can cum again for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, tilting your head up to nip at his neck, a tear or two running down into your hairline. You can do anything he asks, you think, anything in the world just for him, for how he’s making you feel. Eren practically growls, pistoning his hips faster.

“Need you to cum for me, okay beautiful? Cum right now.”

“S-so close– I– Eren, oh my god,” you’re babbling, eyes rolling back into your head. Eren smashes his lips to yours, grinding his hips into your clit and shoving you over the edge for the second time that night. You sob and convulse around him, back arching desperately and pressing your chests together. You’re seeing stars as he fucks you through it, grunting in your ear and growing sloppy as you tighten around him.

“Fuck!” Eren bites into your shoulder, hard enough to bruise, stilling his hips as deep inside you as he can manage. Your fucked-out brain wants the condom off, wants to feel the full warmth of him as he cums inside of you, grinding his hips against yours. Before he’s finished, Eren moves back to your mouth, kissing you deep and slow, a kiss that means a whole lot more than what you’ve just done together as a party rages just past the door.

As you’re panting beneath him, trying to ground yourself and come back to reality, Eren rolls off of you, whips the condom off, and to your surprise, takes you into his arms, pulls your head to his chest.

“You okay?”

You’re so blissed out right now that it’s a laughable question, and you giggle, watery and light into his chest. “More than okay.”

Eren laughs at that, a real laugh from deep in his stomach. The sound of it makes something warm and happy spark in your chest. “That good, huh?”

“You’re alright.” You’re trying to keep your eyes open, more than aware that your teeny tiny thong is on the floor and you’re naked in the arms of a stranger in Jean’s fucking bed, but Eren’s so warm, so comfortable, your eyes are fluttering despite your protests.

“Oh?” Eren’s voice raises in pitch, gets breathy. “Yes, Eren! Right there, Eren! I’m cumming, Eren!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You smack at his chest, cheeks burning, but you make no move to roll away from him, preferring your snug little hovel against him to the loud, smoky party that awaits you should you leave.

“S’okay,” Eren presses a kiss to your hairline, “I like that you’re loud.”

“Not loud,” you grouch, resolving to let yourself enjoy just a few minutes of keeping your eyes closed before you return to the party. The last thing you remember is Eren humming, tracing circles into your shoulders with his fingers. You think you recognize the tune; it’s a love song.

–

“Jaeger!”

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god, is that Jean? What time is it? Eren!”

Eren’s first peaceful sleep in months is disturbed rather rudely, in his opinion; he shields his eyes from the brightness of the overhead light, peering through his fingers to see you, hair a rat’s nest and smudged makeup in rings around your eyes. He scowls at the warm, empty spot next to him in the bed that you’ve already leapt out of, frantic with energy even through your hangover. You’re alternating between running around the room naked, trying to find your dress, and shaking him urgently. He bites back a grin; so you are real, and just as hot as he remembered.

“Chill the fuck out, Jean!” Eren shouts, using far more energy than he can afford to expend if he’s leaving the bed anytime soon. The alarm clock on the nightstand reads 7:01am. Shit. “We’ll be out in a second!”

“Get your ass out here, Eren!” Shit. Mikasa’s here too? Oh, he’s dead the second he leaves this room. All the better to stay put, then.

“Get up,” you hiss at him, looking every bit of a pissed-off racoon as you scrounge around on the floor.

“Need my hair tie back if you want me to get up.”

“Ugh, here,” you fling it at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Eren chuckles, pulling his hair off of his neck and into its usual bun. He feels empty, feels alone, realizes that he wants your touch, the same body-to-body contact that he’d enjoyed last night..

“They’re fine,” Eren grumbles, hoping you can’t see the amusement written on his face, “we’ve got a few more minutes.”

He reaches sleepily for you, pulling you back into the bed with him amidst your whispered protests, pulling your lips back to his where they belong. He kisses you slowly, indulgently, convincingly. Your skin against his does wonders for the soul-crushing anxiety he’s been putting up with over the last few months. You’re like a drug to him; just one hit and he feels worlds better, feels like he can actually get through everything weighing on him for now. Jesus, even your morning breath doesn’t turn him off; his cock twitches in interest beneath the covers. Cute when you’re angry, he thinks to himself. He has a feeling you’d smack him if he said it out loud.

“We can’t,” you breathe into his mouth, pushing weakly at his chest. Eren loves the feel of your palms on his chest, necessarily resistant in the name of a one–night stand, but lacking the force to prove your point. You want him too, he realizes. The thought goes straight to his dick, and he takes a deep breath to keep his composure, to stop himself from jumping all over you with Mikasa and Jean right outside. He’s rather impressed with his efforts, rubbing small circles on your lower back instead of grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you into his lap like he wants to.

“We can,” Eren murmurs back, already ten times happier than he was a moment ago, “just want to kiss you, that’s all.”

That makes you pull back, fix him with a stern look. “I don’t want to come off as a bitch, but I don’t really do the morning-after thing. Don’t you live, like, five hours from the city anyway?”

Eren’s not the brightest when he’s tired, and he’s even stupider around beautiful women. He cocks his head at you, smiling. “Mikasa didn’t tell you? I’m moving to the city in a few weeks.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eren’s bullshitting, bullshitting very badly and he knows it, “just have to get some things worked out with my brother and our business. Get the operation moved here, that’s all.”

He knows your type: flighty, heavily anti-commitment, and meaner than a snake when you’re cornered. But Eren hopes, he hopes stupidly and against all reason because even if it was just a night, he meant what he said in the throes of passion. You’re funny, you’re interesting, you’re sexy, and he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to fuck you stupid, just like he did last night, for the rest of his life.

He can’t say any of this out loud, of course, but what if he’s not bullshitting? What if he can convince Zeke to move their amateur record label into the city, where they can pick up real artists, and he can fuck you stupid whenever he feels like it? Maybe he can even learn how you like your coffee, what your bra size is, where the junk drawer in your apartment lives. Eren doesn’t know you, he knows that, but he inexplicably wants those things, wants the mundane parts of you for himself.

“Get the fuck out here, Jaeger, that’s my fucking bed!” Fists pound against the door, threatening to barge into your little sanctuary. Mikasa’s calling your name from outside too, voice harsh and angry. Eren waits for you to scold him, waits for you to shove him off of you and tell him to fuck off.

To his surprise, you make no move to get up and offer him a sheepish grin, shrugging shyly as if you’re not fully naked in his arms. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Eren’s heart swells. “I’m not chancing that. Give me your number.”“You can earn my number if you buy me breakfast,” you scoff, “and help me find my dress before Mikasa kills us both.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x readaer #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x you #aot x reader #ti penso uni #ti penso universe #i love them this makes my heart warm!!!!!!!!!

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blingblong55 · 1 year

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Hi! if you take requests I would like to make one where tf 141 + Los Vaqeros reaction to r/n coming back to the base/common room covered in blood, hurt and tortured (I love angst ngl)

( if its okay can you make a Platonic r/n with little sibling energy)

Last Words of a Shooting Star -141+ Los Vaqueros

I love angst too and because I love hurting my own feelings.... here goes a little something. Not sure if it needs a warning but, just read at your own risk babes, bc I do talk abt I guess heavy stuff (as you can tell,,,I can't tell what is and what isn't traumatizing anymore so be careful.) This one gives me Every Since New York vibes

Pt. 2

----

You had been on leave after a mission back in November. Price made sure you stayed off base for 3 months. The excuse was: they need peace for a few months, they deserve it." But instead of being home you had been captured, tortured and almost trafficked. You fought for ever second of life you knew you deserved, while being captured. No one in the team knew about any of this.

*3 MONTHS BEFORE*

"see ya later boys" you said and got in your truck. (yes you drive one bc ghost said it was a better vehicle.) Soap waved until your cars silhouette was no longer in view. He knows you'll come back with home back goodies for him. But before you passed the first stop light one car crashed into yours. Another pulled over, 4 men with guns got out. You quickly held onto your pistol, but you knew best and didn't fight them. Your left eyebrow dripping blood. You got off the car and held your hands up. "Get in the car with them" he ordered you and a big buff man pushed you around until you sat in their vehicle, "My team will be here any minute now you know." you bluffed.

"Well by the time they get here we'll be gone." and off they drove. The man sitting next to you hit your head with the end of his gun, you blacked out.

These men had carefully planned the hold kidnapping. From taking your car elsewhere to texting Price that you made it home, the same way you would've texted him.

For 3 months they tortured you, asking questions you swore you didn't have an answer to. For 2 months you believed that the team would know you'd be missing. For 1 month you planned your escape.

And as the near came close, you heard them talk about trafficking you. "Think about it boss, anyone will pay good money for a member of that task force." That's when all hope was gone. Your limbs had been slowly giving up. By this point you were sure that your plan wouldn't work.

Until you saw the perfect opportunity.

"When kidnapped remember there is a window of opportunity when being transported from location A to B, so be wise and use that."

So you did, and now you had found your way back to the base.

You managed to get pass security and into your part of the base, there you heard Gaz and Soap laughing. Your eyes watered. You walked in and held the floor as everyones eyes met you.

"Kid," was all price could let out, he soon ran to your side. Holding on to you with so much care. Soap ran out for a medic, Ghost made way as you were taken to the infirmary.

Gaz held your hand the entire time. But your grip wasn't too strong. They were all losing you.

"Cariño, don' close your eyes." fear taking control over Alejandros' voice.

Rudy ran behind you all. But soon stoped when he got a call from his team. He soon found the footage of your kidnap. Los vaqueros were all informed of what had happened. They had taken you under their wings when you first met them. You reminded them of their siblings at home. How energetic and funny you were. You like a storm, took over their hearts. "Le diré al coronel de esto." He walked away from his team and to the infirmary.

These are their own personal reactions:

Price:

The second he held you in his hands his heart completely shattered.

He hated how your body leaned against his, this time your weight much lighter.

He didn't care about anyone else in the room

There was hesitation, his first thoughts were on taking care of you, but he is a soldier first. He must know what happened and who is to blame.

For hours while the medical staff was treating your injuries, he would leaved the room, making phone calls and deals with old colleagues of his.

Ghost had to stop him from hitting a medical staff member, "sir you can't come in," "that's my soldier in there, kid needs me!" he'd say. "c'mon old man , sit down" Ghost would try and guide him back to his seat.

For minutes he was close to loosing his shit.

Once Rudy walked in with information, he went hysterical

He cursed every one and everything

He never lit a cigar, because if he did, he was afraid shit would hit the fan and he'd burn that last gift you gave him.

Soap:

He never spoke, the man that had been talking for hours before you arrival stopped.

He couldn't form any words, he thought of when he last saw you, how your eyes were so full of life, and now that image replaced a much weaker version of you.

The blood around your body he hoped was someone else's

He left the room when Price and Ghost were talking to doctors.

He discovered you had to be put in the ICU,

He cried, and as tears fell down his face, his hand made way to the cross that hanged from his neck.

The same one you gave him on his birthday, after you had found out he lost his.

He cried even more thinking of the times you and him had laughed together. How much Gaz and you made him miss his family back home.

"r/n's okay...they'll be better tomorrow" he assured himself and repeated it like a mantra.

"Please be okay" he whispered as kicked a rock while walking around.

Gaz:

Like Soap, he stayed quiet, only spoke when he made calls to his friends at the local police station.

He cried too, but he soon left once Price told him to. "take time son"

Once he reached his room, he got on his bed and hugged a pillow.

it was times like this when you'd come in and hug him. "Everything will be fine" you'd say as he embraced you.

He called him mom, something you had taught him to do, incase things went south and you wouldn't be there to listen.

The images of the torn clothes and frail body of yours came to mind every time he closed his eyes.

It was always you and Gaz who at times would fall short on the kindness of Ghost.

When he least needed it, a joke you once told him came across his train of thoughts.

He called every doctor he knew

He walked into your room and laid in your bed.

" just tell me something George,...what do you mean you don't know nothing...okay can you just pretend you do?...I need something, so tell me something"

Ghost:

This man had it bad. When he first saw you, his mind when to when he discovered his family had died

He swore he only let you in because you somehow creeped into his heart

Your jokes and attitude reminded him of his brother Tommy

"Look ghost..look" you would say as you attempted a cart wheel. 'You'll only get hurt" he'd reply. But when you did things like that, he looked at you with such adoration.

Between you two, it was black cat and golden retriever type of vibe.

He stayed next to price, but once he was alone in that hall, he almost let the guilt win.How can a man as strong as him let this happen to you

The first time he knew you'd be his family was when you held him in your arms as you two laid in a field

His tears falling down as he heard your heartbeat, "close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone and r/n is here," you softly sang, a giggle mixed with the melody

"beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy" you whispered as your hands caressed his hair. He closed his eyes slowly drifting to sleep. "Good night Simon, see you in the morning" you whispered against his head.

When he stopped Price from hurting that staff member, he went out and picked any flowers around base. He came back with a handful, so tiny on his palms, but so meaningful to him

He sneaked into your room, no one noticed and he sat on your bed, holding you so close to him.

"Before you cross the street, Take my hand, Life is what happens to you, While you're busy making other plans, Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, Beautiful r/n" he quietly sang to you.

Alejandro:

Once Rudy had told him they had footage of your kidnap, he lost his mind.

this man went feral, Rudy would try and stop it, but man was he furious.

"No hagas algo a lo pendejo, coronel" But he'd discard his friend and eventually after 4 hours of search, he'd find the perpetrators

We've heard people say "met hell" but these men met Alejandro and boy did they met more than hell

Idc what you say he prayed for the first time since he was a child.

While on search this man swore he heard your voice, "r/n?" he would walk around a crowd of people

for moments he believed it was all a dream or a horrible prank you managed to pull. But once he saw Rudy wipe a few tears, he knew it was real

He went numb when his hand met your skin

I swear this man got sick the moment he saw you, he never got sick when looking at anyone in the condition you were now in.

His mind went back to the times he was teaching you Spanish.

"el helicóptero no puede volar" he said, to which you replied "volar? the helicopters got no balls?" you asked and he bursted out laughing

Rudy:

this man was devastated, but he had to be the strong one while everyone wasn't

he was the one to pray while looking at the footage. "Dios mío" he kept sayin as he repeated the video.

But soon emotions took over and he left the room.

He held onto the bracelet you two bought while he showed you around his town, you had visited Las Almas long after your mission there. You two ate and ate until your stomachs hurt. "Eres mi mejor amigo Rudy." you hugged him, Alejandro sat in the front, content with you for speaking Spanish.

When he first saw how bloody you looked he went pale. It was one of the things he never knew he would see

You remind him of his siblings, annoying at times, funny, but understands his humor like no other.

This man is the biggest softie, he was always Rodolfo on the job or Rudy, but man he was someone else with ya, always soft and kind to you, his voice would switch so fast when speaking from soap to you.

He was a trained solider to withstand any form of torture, but seeing you hurt would've made that soldier talk.

When no one looked he walked into a church and confessed to a priest, then asked "por favor dime que estará bien"

When all else fails, you pray, mijo, his mother would say.

a/n: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you all enjoyed!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

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bigtreefest · 1 month

Text

Chapter 6: San Antonio Stroll

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: You can’t ask for much more than good friends and good times.

Word count: 3,620

Content/warnings: heavy drinking, accidental misogyny, friendship, flirting, country close dancing (that’s not an innuendo…yet), mentions of puke, curdled milk, improper treatment of plants (it’s ok tho bc they’re ugly flowers), swears

Author’s Note: Another chapter that made me giggle and kick my feet as I wrote it. I hope you enjoy—let me know if you did through comments, reblogs, and asks!! (And also likes)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You were in the corner of Bucky’s room, laying sideways across the armchair reading a book when he began to stir. He stretched and looked around, the late morning sun lighting up his sharp features and causing him to squint.

“Well good morning, sleeping beauty.” Bucky’s eyes finally found you as he let out a groan and flopped back into bed, turning over and pulling the covers with him.

“What happened?” Came muffled from under the comforter. You laughed and shifted to get up, walking to the side of his bed and crouching down. You carefully slid your hand under the bedding and flipped it open to be met by the sapphire eyes of the mob boss, framed by his messy morning hair. He smiled slightly at the sight of you, causing his eyes to sparkle even more on top of the way they were lit up by the sun’s morning glow.

“You passed out. Do you remember?” You didn’t specifically mention the kiss, but based on the way Bucky hid his face against the mattress and nodded, you knew he did.

“Why? How did I get here? What time is it?” You laughed and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, according to Steve, you haven’t been sleeping all week and were being kept up by the adrenaline with that whole situation Thursday into yesterday. The second I got out, you collapsed, probably from a mixture of exhaustion and finally feeling safety, which counteracted that adrenaline. That’s what Decks said, at least.”

Bucky’s head cocked to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yesterday? You got out yesterday? I thought you got out today.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky. You’ve been sleeping for twenty hours. It’s Saturday.”

His eyes went wide and he shot up out of bed. “What!? You’re telling me I lost a whole day!? What about all the chores that needed finished? Or the rest of the other business dealings I had to direct?”

You ran your hand through his hair and down to his cheek to calm him down. “It’s all been taken care of. Steve closed up the rest of your business dealings, including Jake. Said he did his job and you would’ve called him ‘a good boy,’ so he’s visiting his mom right now before the jet flies him back tomorrow.”

Bucky nodded along, letting out an exhale of a small laugh at how well Steve knew him. You continued. “While Steve took care of things here, Sam drove back to the city to handle everything there, but otherwise everyone else stayed and is leaving tomorrow. Well, everyone except your construction crew. They’re staying until all tunnels are stabilized.”

“And the farm?” You were surprised at his concern over the land, something more than what directly applied to him.

“Curtis is out there right now. There’s not much to do, because according to him, ‘Bucky ran around like a busy bee doing all the chores with his nervous energy.’”

Bucky laughed. “He’s not wrong. And I encouraged Steve to do the same.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. But speaking of Curtis, you should thank him. He’s the one who carried you all the way over here and up the stairs.”

“So what do you think? Another night at the bar will do it? Drinks on me?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows.

When Bucky got up and showered, he changed into jeans and a comfy shirt before galloping down the steps. There, he saw Decks and Steve sitting on the couch chatting, each drinking a small glass of chocolate milk, as he made his way to your office.

The door was open, so he peeked his head in to see you closely examining several papers sprawled out. You tore your glance from the blinding white sheets and rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. “Hey, you were in here? I saw some stuff was moved around.”

Bucky nodded slowly, coming into your office fully and gently closing the door. “Yeah. I took a look at that contract the dairy girl left on your desk.” Bucky gestured to the one in your hand.

You felt the compulsion to laugh at his statement, the way he refused to say Cole’s name, but kept your lips tight and sighed instead. “Now, Bucky, you know I’m technically a ‘dairy girl,’ right? Please don’t insult me and my efforts in your attempts to make a jab at Cole. I know he sucks, trust me.”

Bucky winced at his mistake. No one in his line of work would’ve batted an eye at a statement like that, but he was starting to realize just how deep the misogyny ran. You were so capable, and Cole and Lloyd really thought they had the authority to push you out. Although, they probably would have done that no matter your gender, but the point was, they were entitled pricks.

“My bad, Honeybee. Won’t happen again. But yes, I do want to tell you that the law firm that Cole’s associated with has ties to a bad guy. Like, certifiably insane. He fights dirty, so I’ve got Sam looking into it all. That’s probably why he went back so soon.”

You nodded slowly, trying to hide the concern of how your small operation had gotten itself into this entangled web of a mess, but honestly, it could have been a coincidence. You had also read a page of Bucky’s notes which had been scrawled haphazardly, denoting everything that Jake had said about their interaction. At the bottom of that page was an additional note ‘train to handle interrogation better on plane ride home.’ You laughed at that; Jake was always a little too honest for his own good.

But thinking back to the mess you were in, Cole probably would have gone for your farm either way, tied with Lloyd or not, thanks to Jake’s loose lips.

Bucky could see you ruminating and making connections. He confirmed your thoughts. “If it helps at all, I don’t think Lloyd or Cole know who you’re working with. Lloyd hasn’t been around, and Cole can’t put my name to a face. If they had done so already, we might be dealing with something different.” He shrugged.

You knew it shouldn’t have that quickly, but Bucky’s statement provided you with relief. After the past few days, you could see how many men he must’ve had at his disposal if he only sent you a skeleton crew for what was done at the farm. He was calculated and smart, and it was beyond comforting.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and Decks came in, holding a large vase at full arm’s length. It was stuffed with blueish hydrangeas: your least favorite flower.

That was when the smell hit you and Bucky like a wall, the both of you squeezing your noses shut as you shouted with a nasally voice. “Ugh! Decks, get that out of here. Where the hell did those come from?”

She ran back towards the front door, where Steve was holding it open, to set them on the porch. “Just got delivered. Don’t worry, I’ve smelled worse. There’s a card here.”

Everyone else stood back, hands covering their airways as she plucked the small piece of paper from the petals and read it out loud.

“Peach, can’t wait to milk our deal together. -Cole”

Everyone exchanged glances, disgusted by the weirdly suggestive statement, as Decks pulled the hydrangeas out of the vase and tossed them into the yard. She knew how much you hated them. She peered into the vase and gave it a sniff.

“He put the flowers in milk…and,” she sniffed again, “lemon juice?”

The two of you exchanged a glance and you laughed at how foolish Cole was. You could tell Bucky and Steve were utterly confused, so you explained as Decks walked into the yard with the vase. The smell was far away enough now that you didn’t need to cover your nose.

“First off, I hate hydrangeas, so I’m glad Decks knew to get those little bitches out of my face. The only cool thing about them is they change color based on pH. So if they’re in an acidic environment, they’ll turn blue, one of the Turner farms signature colors. I’m sure Cole thought he was being so cute, putting flowers in a vase of milk, but milk is hardly acidic enough to cause any color change, so his smart ass thought lemon juice would be the solution. It worked, but at the cost of curdling the milk.”

You scrunched your face in disgust as Steve and Bucky mirrored it, the three of you looking out into the yard where Decks was shaking the vase vigorously, trying to get all the solids out. She reached for the garden hose and sprayed it out, the force of the stream moving the vase a few feet. She turned off the hose and grabbed the vase, stomping back into the house and slipping off her shoes.

Decks shoved the vase into Steve’s chest and he cradled it with an oof.

“Finish cleaning that. And dump out my glass. I won’t be able to drink milk again for months.” She grumbled. You looked to her as she was retreating from the living room.

“Where are you going?” She turned to look at you briefly.

“To take a shower.” Her head whipped back around.

She continued to stomp up the stairs before gesturing aggressively with her arms above her head. “WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS SEND YOU WEIRD SHIT LIKE THAT!?”

Steve looked at the vase in his hands and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I’m gonna need a shower, too, after this.”

Once evening came, everyone was finally clean and ready to go, including Curtis, who had come back shortly after the hydrangea incident.

You considered piling the five of you into one car, but Curtis offered to drive, as well, taking Steve and Decks with him as you and Bucky drove in your truck. Curtis figured he’d go home after the bar, anyway, since your house was crowded enough with the extra guests.

As you and Bucky wound around the country roads toward town, he spoke up. “So Decks, she’s quite the character…”

You laughed and nodded, one hand on the wheel while you continued to look forward at the road. “Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, she’s been there for a lot. You’ve gotta be a little crazy to live in close quarters with someone for four years straight like we did. We’ve each got our own things.”

Bucky gave a small chuckle. “I guess it’s good to have someone who knows you so well, though.”

You hummed in agreement, not sure where he was leading this. “And she and Curtis seem close, too. Did she spend a lot of time out here when you were in school?”

You stole a glance at Bucky quickly, catching his inquisitive face. “Yeah, she’d come here for summers and some long weekends. The three of us get along really well.”

Both of you paused before Bucky broke the silence. “So did anything ever happen between the two of them?”

There it was. Who was he asking this for? “Why, asking for a friend? Asking for Stevie?”

Bucky shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Just curious.”

You gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Uh huh, well you’re lucky I’ll indulge your curiosity because I’m rooting for them, too. To answer your question, no, nothing ever happened. Her place is in the city, and I don’t think Curtis will ever leave here. This is home. They are really good friends, though, sometimes I think they like each other more than they like me.”

Bucky laughed. “That’s how I feel about you and Steve, even though I’m the one who’s been around here the most.”

You gave him a shrug. “Some people just get each other.”

You and Curtis pulled into the bar, parking next to each other. The five of you emerged from the trucks, denim and flannel-clad and ready for a night out.

As you walked in and up to a few empty stools. Curtis hung back, having a word with the bouncer and handing him a sheet of paper, then patting him on the back. The bartender who took your orders was super sweet, and she must’ve been new since you’d never seen her around before.

“I’m not sure what the big guy back there wants quite yet, but I say just make him something good and he’ll be happy.” You pointed a thumb over your shoulder towards Curtis, bumping into where Bucky’s hand was draped as he stood to your other side. The bartender smiled and nodded as Bucky pulled you in closer to his ribs and talked lowly by your ear.

“You and Decks wanna pick out some food while Steve and I grab a booth and a pool table?” You nodded and patted his chest before holding out your hand.

“Sounds good, Bucket. Gimme your black card so I can start a tab.” He smiled and obliged, digging into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. Once you handed the card to the bartender, he walked away and Decks came up beside you.

“Oh, we’re definitely pushing that card to the limit tonight.”

You laughed and nodded with her. “Agreed.”

You sat under Bucky’s arm in the booth, watching Steve teach Decks how to play pool. Little did he know, Decks was even better than you, in fact, at all games you played.

You laughed into your empty beer glass and reached for the pitcher to refill it when you saw Curtis leaning over the bar.

“It’s been forever. I can’t believe he went back over there.” You noted. “Something must’ve caught his eye.” You knew exactly what. It was someone.

When Curtis had come to join the four of you at the table earlier, Bucky had made a toast. “To new friends and the safety of Honeybee.”

Everyone clinked their glasses together. “To Honeybee.” You giggled as everyone took a sip and Curtis was gone the next second.

He claimed a seat at the bar and hadn’t moved since, making heart eyes at the new bartender. You were happy for him. He worked so hard, he deserved this kind of break, and she seemed sweet.

Bucky nodded along to your previous statement, but you could tell something else in the corner had drawn his attention. You were an hour in and Bucky had already probably doubled the rounds you’d taken.

He looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m gonna ride the mechanical bull.” You put a hand on his chest and could feel his speeding heartbeat.

“Slow down. Learn how to ride a horse first, champ. And then, maybe you can do it.”

Bucky shook his head, not wanting to hear what you had to say as he slid out of the booth and walked past the bar, slapping a hand on Curtis’s shoulder as he made his way to the mechanical bull on the far end.

You rose from your seat as Steve and Decks set down their pool cues, following you to stand by Curtis. The four of you, along with the new bartender, watched as Bucky spoke to the operator and got up on the bull. Steve and Decks were clapping and shouting words of encouragement while you looked on in terror. This man could literally not sit on a stationary horse by himself, and he wanted to ride the bull? Well, no use in trying to talk him down now.

You could hear Curtis through the other screams coming around you. “Buck, hold on tight! I am not carrying you up the stairs again if you get knocked down.”

You laughed at that as you began to clap, a huge, yet tentative, smile beaming on you face in anticipation of what was about to go down. The bull started off slow, rocking Bucky back and forth, but it picked up quickly. You watched as his body began to flail, the bull whipping around until it spun, launching him off to the side from the inertia.

The whole bar began to cheer and whoop. He lasted 8.7 seconds.

Another hour later found you and Decks standing by the bar, sipping another drink the bartender who Curtis called ‘Cherry’ had made for you. You were talking about the two mob bosses over at the pool table. Well, you knew what they were, but Decks didn’t yet, although you believed she and Curtis had their suspicions.

You jolted with excitement when a familiar song came through the speakers.

“Oh! You love this one! You remember the dance I showed you in college? I think you’ve got some new guests to teach!” You looked over to Decks as she playfully rolled her eyes.

You danced your way over to Bucky and dragged him out on the dance floor, catching Steve having an animated conversation across the bar on your way over.

You spun Bucky around and pulled him close. “You ready to learn, cowboy?”

Bucky laughed, taking his hat off and putting it on your head. “Lead the way, partner.”

You two-stepped around the dance floor with the music, keeping your eyes on the top of Bucky’s head as he stared down at your feet, trying not to step on them. Unsuccessfully, you might add, but it was adorable to see him trying to fit himself into another part of your world.

“I think it’s time for a break.” This came after a particularly hard stomp on your big toe, you holding in a yelp and Bucky sheepishly looking up at you as he guided you both back to the bar.

Another drink later, and you were spry as a young calf, ready to go for a round of line dancing.

“Come on Bucket, let’s go boot scoot!” Your voice grew louder with another drink, and Bucky was already three sheets to the wind.

After the two intensive rounds, you both flopped down into the booth, Bucky slumped with his head on your shoulder and arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He was being surprisingly affectionate, speaking against your neck.

“How are you so good at everything?” He mumbled. You stroked his hair and kissed the top of his sweaty head, looking around the bar for your friends. You spotted Decks an Steve making their way over to you from where they had just been chatting with Curtis.

You continued to pet Bucky’s head. “If you guys are, I think we’re ready to go. Bucket here is gonna need one for himself. If we get another drink, I fear he might puke.”

Steve bent down to get a better look at Bucky’s face, flicking him in the temple. Bucky’s face scrunched up in annoyance as he sloppily threw out an arm, swatting at Steve.

Steve stood back up. “Yeah, I think we’re good to go, too. Curtis is gonna stay through closing to give Cherry a ride home. I can drive your truck, though. We already closed out the tab.”

He held out his hand and you tossed him the keys. Steve stuffed them in his pocket as you did your best to shove Bucky’s dense, muscular body out of the booth. You watched as Steve bent down and lifted Bucky over his shoulder.

“Steeb, you’re so strong.” You faintly heard Bucky whisper.

Steve chuckled and adjusted him in a fireman’s carry and took him out of the bar, Decks ahead to get the doors.

You hopped up in the back of the truck to help as Steve tossed Bucky in behind you and drove home. Upon arriving, Steve lifted Bucky again, this time setting him down in his bed.

Bucky woke up to the sound of laughter, causing his head to bounce slightly. He looked up and hardly opened his eyes to see your smiling face.

You were laying on your back, propped up against some pillows. Bucky’s arm was slung across your stomach, his leg thrown to be in between yours and his head nestled in your chest.

“I can’t believe you crawled into bed with me.” Bucky smirked and spoke through his cheek smushed against you.

You laughed even harder. “Bucky, what are you talking about? This is my room. You crawled into bed with me.”

His eyes grew wide before he closed them again in satisfaction, nestling in closer to you, getting more comfortable.

“I don’t know when or how that happened, but I’ll own it.” A soft, sleepy smile took over his face.

You continued to stroke his hair. “Despite your rough exterior you put on for strangers, you’ve really got a way with people, ya know? Like when you helped the Carters and got us those free drinks?”

Bucky hummed and squeezed your waist tighter.

“Decks told me you helped them out again. They offered to pay for drinks last night, too?” Bucky nodded.

“Well it’s not as easy as it seems, Honey. But yeah, she thought we were best friends, Mrs. Carter. She even called me Jamie.”

You looked down as Bucky began to trace shapes against the bare skin under your sleep shirt. “Jamie? I like that. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, nothing’s really wrong, I guess, it’s just that no one has called me that since my ma. It’s kinda reserved for someone special… But I do like the way it sounds coming from you.”

He turned to kiss your palm that had made its way to his cheek.

“Okay, Jamie.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: I’m not sorry for my hate of hydrangeas. They suck.

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp

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tyunkus · 9 months

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hi. maybe mean dom but like soft ? mean dom (but also like really whipped) soobin ? also i'm really into friends to lovers trope these days so like maybe you met at school and obv been best friends since and suddenly a few months to a year ago he just got like the biggest crush on y/n (?) ever but he thinks hell nah man if i confess it'll ruin the friendship and be so awkward (but everyone else in their friend group says wtf im sure y/n likes u too just kiss already) and u guys r at some. idfk. uni party at someones house and the two of u go together obv because that's what friends do right (!) but at this place he realises something (whatever it is idk) and like confesses and i guess they fuck bc *then* there's the kinda soft dom (or idk what it's called) soobin :3 hope this makes sense tho lol

I LOVE F2L OMFG!!!!!!! but omg im just thinking about soobin who can barely fucking breathe in his own room because that’s where he dragged the both of you after the party (theres no fucking way hes gonna have his first time with you at a house party of all places - and more importantly, you deserve a nice bed to get fucked on) and its like. he sees you all bashful n looking at the ground and hes just so taken with you he really needs to try and steady his breathing that poor guy and he confesses and just AHHH 😭

he would be so overwhelmed it translates to him becoming super steely and serious and SEXYYYY AAGHHHH pulling you in by the waist, so tall and broad and handsome, hand coming up to touch your cheek when he utters one word: “strip.”

you’re so ??? because u’ve never seen him so serious before, but then something in his eyes darken and he moves his hand down to your throat and murmurs, “i told you to strip, bunny.” HAHSHFHEHREHDHEJSUHSSJRJDKS

and so you do and then he becomes sososo soft with you, so enamored by your naked body, treating you like such a princess 💕💕 the softest, sweetest foreplay in the world, fingering you open to prepare you for his cock, so many praises ARGH and when he does fuck you he’s still so careful but when he finds that you’re okay he gets a little rougher, firmer grip on your skin and deeper thrusts EJDHDJDHRBEBR

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #soobin smut #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

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libraryraccoon · 4 months

Text

If I was at NRC as a normal student (not Yuu)

If I was in the NRC, i will be a Ignihyde Student (bc the official test tell me I was a Ignihyde student), the extrovert or ambivert of Ignihyde.

Aka the Ignihyde student hated by all the other Ignihyde student :DD

I will try to adopt Ortho.

Raccoon : Sign just here.

Ortho : isn't it a adopt pap-

Raccoon : shhh, you don't need to know or say what it is. Sign just. :)

Idia seeing me trying to adopt legally his little (dead and robot) brother : What the fuck-

I will be here for the Overblots.

But not for help, oh no no !

Ace : What is it ?

Raccoon : pop corn.

Deuce : Why are you eating pop corn when there is an overblot in front of you ?!

Raccoon : because it's better to watch with pop corn ? I thought everyone know that.

I would be absent from sports class. Vargas met me once in the corridors but that's it. I would never have shown up to this (torture) class.

I'm pretty sure Vargas won't even know I exist.

Vargas : Raccoon ? We have someone here who have that name ?

Jack : it's maybe the raccon that is in the trash at the back of the school ?

Ace : Oh yeah, I have seen that little guy once. But why he will be on the call list ?

(They are talking about a real raccoon, not me-)

I will doxx people for money. It's said.

Hey, I need to make money you know ? And I don't have a Leona for that like Ruggie-

Oh yeah because Ruggie will be my best friend here.

(We are the NRC cleaners, Crowley pays us to do all the cleaning)

I have seen a post saying that some beastmens and faes are awake the night and go see each others, even if I will be a human, I will join them.

Like that I will meet (and have informations) on a lot of beastmens and faes.

(Me ? Later blackmail them about this ? Please, be realistic, I care about my life ! But for a little money....)

I will be the only Ignihyde student AND human that will be at that "night party" (we will call it like that), and it's because I was invite by Ruggie (bestfriends benefits).

Now, for some of my hc as Ignihyde students, I headcanon that all the Ignihyde student have one time by months a party on a game with all the dorm.

And during that party, they do a lot of challenges. And that leads to some Drama and rivalry.

I'm pretty sure it's at that party that we decided who will be the Housewarden and Vice Housewarden.

The Housewarden being the 1st and vice the 2nd.

And some others things :

•I will be the NRC therapist.

I'm a good listener and I give good advices.

Pretty sure Crowley tried to hire me after finding out.

That mean I will be the therapist of all the overblotter (oh look ! I have now a lot of ennemies because I talk bad about their family/what they think-).

I would use the excuse of being a school therapist to avoid doing sports. At least I have an excuse and I won't have repercussions for (skipping) being absent from sports class.

Bye bye Vargas ! Seeing you one time in the corridors was enough for me !

•I probably would have made a contract with Azul and I would have taken Ruggie to do one too (well, that's if he and I are in first year at the same time).

Why ? For money ofc.

We will work for the Mostro Lounge only for the money.

•I will avoid the Leech (well, try to avoid them).

They scared me.

How people can not have scare of them is a question without answer for me.

•I will be hate of Vil and Riddle (even if we don't count the therapist part).

I have a bad memory, i don't care about my physic.

I can easily forget the rules, so Riddle will hate me for forget all the Queen rules but also all the NRC rules in general.

And I can literally go shopping in unicorn pajamas. Vil worst nightmare.

•Rook 🤝🏻 Me : watching people.

Nothing else to say here. It explain all by itself.

•Unexpected friendship : Me & Idia & Rook.

Every Sunday evening at the end of the week we would meet up at the Pomefiore or Ignihyde dorm and tell each other all the NRC gossip. We would have tea, cookies, popcorn and hot chocolate, and lots of gossip to be told.

Nobody in the NRC know how much we know or how we know it. They don't want to know.

•My magic.

I will have an healing magic or a anti-magic. That's all.

I don't need more magic than those two.

•I will try to adopt Grim.

Maybe Yuu too. I just want to adopt them + Ortho because they deserved all the love.

I will have a gun.

I love gun.

•Knowing too much.

If I go at NRC, even with magic, with all I know of the game and the theories ? Man, I will be the more suspicious of the all NRC, more than Rook !

I will say things like that :

Raccoon : Man, you really is an overblotter now that I see you that often !

Crowley : ??? How do you know-

Raccoon : you're dad, Levan, is Crowley. Good chance bro, we're not together in that shit-

Malleus : The fuck child of men-

Raccoon : what that feel like to be a general ?

Lilia : kid, why that question and how do you know ? I don't remember saying it to you-

Raccoon : when will you accept that you are Silver, Sebek and Malleus parental figure ?

Lilia : ... i'm not-

Raccoon : wait- we are before Malleus overblot, so that mean you are still in the denial right now.

Lilia : by the great sevens.. WHAT THE FUCH RACCOON ?!-

Me, Idia and Rook the Sunday.

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opal-owl-flight · 16 days

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I'm going to pretend that your 3 and 4 were too busy/not mature enough at the time to be in love/develop those feelings back before 4 left.

They were just coworkers having fun, being more than coworkers (friends!), and making memories.

But when 4 came back, those feelings became so much more complex. And things only got worse and harder to understand as 4 and 3's relationship as coworkers and friends became strained, between 3's desire for 4 to surpass them and 4's self-loathing.

3's attempt at fixing things only made things worse, as those feelings became love for a friend, someone important, but not a romantic kind JUST yet. 4 was someone they couldn't bear losing. In their attempts to protect them, they invalidated 4's own feelings (which I'm pretty sure you covered), which resulted in the fight.

I think it would be safe to say that it was when 3 realized how much of the problem they'd inadvertently contributed to, that they also began to love 4 more than as a friend. But it's a bit hard to notice that when you're getting your face mashed up.

Post hospital stay, 3 finally realized that love and became super gay for 4, as seen by the inner 3 reactions.

As for 4's journey, it was very similar in that it wasn't until they were smashing 3's face in that they realized, in those moments with their hands covered in 3's blood, in the moments that they spent with them in the hospital, that some of their own feelings might be turning to love.

Of course, the main feeling during the fight was anger and then horror, but shit happens.

Sorry for the way too long ask, but I've loved your 4 and 3 comics (8 and 4 were super emotional as well, and I greatly enjoyed those ones) and just had to share! ^^;;

You got a lot of it right! Though, the gay doesnt come til after Project Piranesi/Oceanic Labyrinth -- 3's "I love you" in Break is a platonic one, a feeling they held ever since they met, and a feeling that never went away even when they parted.

The relationship strained bc 4 went off and experienced hell in college. She developed a self loathing, and took a break from there. SHe hoped that 3 would be able to fix the issue bc hey...they always know what to do with her (her thought here is "Make me a perfect agent, continue what youve been doing before")... but that didnt happen.

3, now the Captain, taken off the field and directly responsible for the lives of the agents, has become more battle hardened and strict in their duties. They drill the agents to make sure they dont suffer what they did (falling to Tartar specifically), done out of a place of care and love. Theyre scared, really, they feel all this responsibility, add the fact that they dont like acknowledging that they may not be able to save everyone like they usually do before (due to their disability).

They heard 4s pleas and tried to turn her to what she wants. Maybe more. They knew shed surpass them. Its inevitable.

They only wanted her to be the best self she can be. Protect her -- they finally got her back, theyre not losing her again -- even if their methods only served to strain their friendship further.

A huge misunderstanding of 3s motives leads to bitterness from 4. They were her best friend. Now theyre...just like everyone else in college. Disappointed in her (no theyre not). She strived to be whatever perfection they wanted from her. Maybe if she got there, shed stop hating herself. If she got there, maybe theyd love her again (they always did, if...not expressed properly).

Leads to the duel after 3 forced a Leave on her, yada yada.... they make up for lost time after, hanging out as friends again until 4 is confident/feels supported enough to return to agent duties.

In those further duties, 4 starts growing. Finally growing in the right direction. Her confidence swelling to be almost the same as before she went to college (but not completely). I think tje romantic feelings start here? Not sure yet. But its def after time spent together as pals and supporting each other through several of their internal struggles (4 and her self-image, 3 and their limitations)

The Captain's right hand.

The confession likely happens after 4 saves 3 from some situation in Project Piranesi! Consider it a knight saving her monarch from danger.

Thank you sm for the ask! Im glad I managed to get most of my points across in the comics wehe

#opal owl hoots #splatoon #agent 3 #agent 4 #captain 3 #agent 12

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mabelstone · 10 months

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Could you write about matt comforting reader after a fight or just generally after something horrible happens to the reader

ask and you shall receive, my dear <3

also i forgot to capitalise bc i was on my phone and i’m lazy so sorry for that

Make Up

you felt your boyfriends gaze burning through you across the couch where you sat, arms folded, pretending to be interested in whatever shit was on the tv.

he sighed dramatically, standing up and repositioning himself next to you. “i’m sorry, okay?” he pouted, wrapping his arm around you. you didn’t budge, eyes still glued to the tv, lips pursed together. “don’t be like that, darling.”

you’d just gotten back from an awards show after party, and you weren’t happy with him in the slightest. matt wasn’t a fan of PDA, that was fine with you. but he also never stopped women from flirting with him. the most affection you’d get was when he’d occasionally place his hand in the small of your back, but he’d quickly remove it and chat with others.

he obviously didn’t mean it, and you knew he loved you. he was all over you in private and around close friends, but in public, you may as well not even be together.

you still ignored him, slightly pulling away from his touch. your throat got tight and began to burn, tears beginning to prickle at your eyes. “i love you more than anything, you know that.”

that did it. you couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, hands flying up in attempt to stop the tears from flowing.

“hey, hey,” his tone softened even more, pulling you into his chest. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it.”

he could be so mean. you knew he never meant it, sure, but it still hurt. you always knew it’d be hard dating someone so famous, especially when you weren’t. and you knew jealousy was a bad shade on you, but you really couldn’t help it when the hottest actresses were trying to get in his pants.

“i’m sorry, it’s so stupid to cry over this,” you sniffled, pulling away to wipe your nose and blink away the tears. “i’m just scared you’ll leave me for someone else. someone prettier, more successful.”

“stop.” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, making you look him in the eyes. “there is no girl in this whole world prettier than you. and i’m glad you aren’t famous. i’d hate to be fighting other dudes for you. just look at you.”

you laughed, but it came out as more of a snort. he always knew how to pull on your heart strings the right way and still manage to make you laugh.

“see! like that!” he smiled wide, eyes squinting, the gap in his teeth on full display. “if any other guy heard you snort like that you’d be taken from me in a heartbeat!”

“oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his arm. you rested your head on his shoulder, sighing before looking up at him through wet lashes. “you promise me she meant nothing?”

“i promise.” he said sincerely, cupping your face before pressing a warm, deep kiss to your lips. he pulled away to reassure, “i love you, Y/N. you’re all that matters to me.” he brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead softly. “i’ve loved you since the day i met you, and i will love you until the day i become a worm farm.”

“okay, okay, you big sap.” you laughed, lifting your head to meet his eye level again. “i love you, too.”

“would it make you feel better if i was more affectionate in public?” he asked, turning your body to face him.

“yeah, but i don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” you shrugged like you didn’t care, though he saw straight through you. that’s really all you wanted. “i just want people to know we’re together.”

from that moment on, at any event, his arm was always around your waist or shoulders, or your arm was interlinked with his.

he boasted to everyone after he proposed to you, eager to show off the pretty ring around your finger any chance he got.

other women didn’t bother him much after that.

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #south park #trey parker #trey parker x reader #matt stone smut #baseketball #doug remer x reader #doug remer #matt and trey

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capitalisticveins · 11 months

Text

Baabe and Angel (seperate) Angst HCs (Ft Sweetheart and Sam)

Got to these late, but better late than never. Gift for @ajfromabove ^^

- The “Secret Mate GC” didn’t have a single message for about 2 months after Inversion. It was Angel who broke the ice.

- Remember when Baabe didn’t get the job in their comfort audio? Aaron is the one who got it instead

- Angel isn’t taken seriously at work at all. They’re usually given the lighter, or less important workloads compared to everyone else. Nothing pisses them off more than when a higher up gives them the easiest stuff and then tells them “I think you can handle it”

- Baabe was reluctant to talk to Angel at their first pack meeting, they didn’t interact until their third pack meeting, and it was Angel going up to them to start a conversation.

- Angel was always in and out of hospitals as a kid due to their body being normally hot and being mistaken for a fever or underlying disease. After their family learned they were normally hot, they were never taken seriously if they had an actual fever.

- Baabe never had the opportunity to be an actual kid. They had to take care of their siblings from the jump, since their parents weren’t around often to take care of them.

- Angel is scared to ask David for things

- Baabe got a lot of good grades in middle school to impress their parents or get their attention. Didn’t work. They tried acting up and getting bad grades, still didn’t work.

- Angel’s cat died a while ago.

- Angel was afraid of dogs before meeting David

- Despite Baabe doing their best to take care of their younger siblings, the younger ones locked them in the closet sometimes while babysitting and banged on the door to mess with them.

- This meant Baabe was alone, in the dark, with loud banging and screams on the outside.

- You can imagine why they’re claustrophobic

- Angel and Baabe are kinda envious of Sweetheart’s and Sam’s empowered abilities. They’re treated incredibly fragile in the pack compared to Sweetheart and Sam.

- Baabe was surprised and sorta upset when they were told Amanda moved away. They knew a few members would leave after Inversion, but Amanda was the shifter in the pack they were closest to (except for Asher obviously)

- Angel can’t reach the top shelf

- Baabe didn’t invite their parents to the double wedding

- Angel isn’t exactly “in love” with their body. David does his best to make them feel better about themselves, but the thoughts always come back.

- Whenever Angel feels uncomfortable, they laugh excessively.

- Baabe doesn’t like being given gifts.

- Angel laughed a lot at their first pack meeting.

- Baabe cares a lot about their appearance due to stuff said to them in the past.

Some HCs are projection, some are from little hints dropped in audios (like the one with Baabe and Amanda since it’s canon Baabe met Amanda before they went to their first pack meeting). Hope these made sense lmao

I also didn’t write a lot bc even thought I want these 2 to get hurt I cant imagine them being hurt that much

#Redacted Audio #Redacted ASMR #Redacted Angel #Redacted Baaabe #Redacted David #Redacted Asher #Redacted Babe #Redacted Baabe #Redacted Sweetheart

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imnotselfryed · 1 year

Text

Another child? [d. djarin]

word count: 1.1k (is this even a drabble??)

content/warnings: daughter & father relationship after a bit, mini Ahsoka mention (i had to), din being softer than usual bc grogu softened him up 😭, a sprinkle of angst. Italics means flashback, gif not mines, not proofread :)

☆♫☆♫

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” The Mandalorian said to his daily bounty. He’s a busy man and he needed those credits now that he has a small someone to take care of. This bounty though seemed…a bit younger than usual. “Seems fun” You said with all the calm in the world.

“You’ve got 10 seconds before I end this conversation.”

“You could try but I want to get this over with.”

Mando sighed as he gripped your arm harshly. “Let’s go kid. I’m not here to play games.” “Kid? I’ll have you know I’m a grown adult thank you very much,” You said with the best “adult” voice you’ve had. You’ve been on the run after your entire world fell apart. You learned to adapt to your surroundings and environment. It’s a cruel world, galaxy even, so you’ve learned to not be the child you actually are. Mando sighed again as he threw her in the ship. “Well, wow. This is a humble abode.”

“It’s not that impressive. It still works perfectly even though it's probably thousands of years old. Just sit down and be quiet, kid. I’m actually being generous.”

“That's probably the coolest thing you’ve said this entire time.”

Mando stayed silent as he punched in the locations. He had a sad and weird feeling that you were not the adult you say you are. He didn’t exactly want to bring you in, for someone else to potentially hurt you. The mandalorian spoke up, “Well, you don’t see many..smart..bounties, like you, kid. Most end up dying from stress.”

“D’aww you called me smart! I’m so honored” You said sarcastically. It's one of the only ways you have survived all these years, or at least how you survived for the little years you lived. “You must really like sarcasm huh?” “Oh I love sarcasm.”

The Mandalorian continued, “Now tell me…why were you taken in as a bounty? You don’t seem too much of a criminal.”

“Well….Since I was so depressed about…something personal that happened when I was younger, I kind of had a “villain arc” you could say but..I’ve changed. Still sad about it though.” You answered sadly while reminiscing about your past. It all felt like yesterday. “Someone..killed my mother. The only piece of family I’ve had.”

It was a normal day, you were around 8 when it happened. You and your mother were collecting your daily food at the market because everyone was fleeing for their lives. The empire was about to harm everyone and everything that comes in their way, and your planet blocked their view. Your mother on the other hand though, was as calm as you grew up to be. After that, both of you rush outside to see the sky reddened. Your mother crouched down to match the height of you.

“Dear, I love you. You know that right?” She smiled sadly. “I know, Mama.” You say somber, knowing what was about to come next. A bomb, not too far from you and your mother blew up on the ground. Everyone was panicking, trying to evacuate but you really didn’t care. All you cared about was your mother. “Baby, please. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, find someone that’ll protect you, please be safe,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes. “I will, Mama, don’t worry. Maybe we can find eachother again!” A tear ran down your small cheek as your mother wiped it away. “I hope so.”

A sympathetic look crossed the Mandalorian’s face. Out of all people he definitely knew what it was like to lose a loved one. “I know how difficult that is. I lost mine when I was just a boy. Are you still struggling with your loss though?” Mando sounded softer than usual, he wasn’t as big and bad as he was when he first met her.

“I am…and I’m still so young. Everything happened so fast. I like to act older than I am because It makes me forget about the past. I am actually just a kid.” “I understand. Life can change on the whim of a moment. But, kid, don’t hide your inner child. The galaxy needs some more happiness in it.”

You nod as you stare at your hands, wishing you were stronger and that you were actually able to save your mother. You clench your hands in worry, and in anger. Mando notices this and felt bad for you. “Is..everything okay? Is there something you want to share with me?” “No….it’s alright. I’m alright,” you say sadly while playing with the small ring on your finger, the one your mother gave you. “Look, I’m sorry for your loss, kid. I know you’re trying to stay safe for your sake but holding in that pain isn’t the right answer.”

“I know it’s just…I’m not sure how to talk about my feelings really. I’ve been keeping it all in my entire life.” Mando had a small idea, (eureka /j), something that would protect this young one, and control her stress. “I know just the person to help you with that. A Jedi who guided me through struggles of my own loss. You should find her someday. She can help you kid, I know it.” “Yea…but I’m not Jedi material..plus I don’t want to be one. I think it’d just give me even more stress. They probably wouldn’t be able to handle my sarcasm either” You chuckled. “You’re stuck with me now anyway, Metal man.”

Mando sighed, “So be it.” You smiled a small grin. “So what can I call you anyway?”

“People call me Mando. It’s something I was sworn to be. I have dedicated my life to serve the clan of Mandalore.” “Woah! So your a Mandalorian? That’s so cool!” You said fairly quickly. “I’m just..alive, I guess. Sometimes I wish I was cool,” you sighed as you stared at your ring. “You are pretty cool, kid. Don’t let your past define who you are, you define that, and what future you will have. What will it be,” Mando said, actually curious.

You stayed silent as you thought to yourself. “Find someone who will protect you,” your mother had once told you. You are only 13 now, and have nowhere else to go anymore. You couldn’t survive on your own. The Mandalorian is the only one who could protect you now. “Could I maybe…stay here?”

Mando looked back at her in shock, why would she want to stay here? He thought but she was only a child, he couldn’t just abandon her. He had the same choice with Grogu and he’s like a son to him now. He patted her head, unsure of what to do. “Sure, kid. I promise I'll protect you. We’ll have other adventures also. How does that sound?”

☆♫☆♫

#mandalorian #din djarin #starwars #star wars drabble #din djarin drabble #child!reader #fluff #angst #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #din djarin fluff #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian x child!reader #mandalorian imagines #star wars imagines #imagines #blurbs

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wanderersbell · 1 year

Note

Hi can you write something for scara and his s/o growing old? Well scara can't age but his s/o can! I would prefer it to be kinda cute but also sad.

until death do us part

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst, hurt no comfort

warnings: major character death, very sad ending

word count: 2491

✧.* a/n: took me a while to get to this bc i kept crying thinking about it but here it is! i am so sorry in advance this is really sad, but enjoy!

nothing would make him regret getting to spend your life with you, not even the day he’d inevitably lose you.

no amount of wishing or praying would stop you from returning to the soil of the earth one day and becoming nothing but another memory. the wanderer knew that eventually, he’d lose you too. just like everyone else he had once loved, you were no exception to the passages of time that sow life and death within the fate of humanity.

the first time he met you, this thought passed through his mind in a fleeting whisper when your magnetic pull started to reel him in against his will. the soothing trill of your laughter and the kindness in your eyes reminded him so much of a time before pain was all he knew, that he could already picture the way the light would fade out of your eyes if he let his guard down and flew too close to the sun again.

but no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, every path he went down lead him right back to you in the end. you who insisted with utmost sincerity that he come over for tea since he so graciously helped your grandpa harvest crops the other week. you who would pour him a cup, strong and bitter just the way he liked it, and sit across from him to tell all of the wild stories and legends you heard from the elders in town growing up, never bothered in the slightest when he didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation.

you who slowly crept into every one of his thoughts until he could no longer fight the urge to see you, even though he truly did try to put up a fight. his feet would unconsciously bring him all the way to your doorstep after a long day, the only thing on his mind being the rush of warmth he gets whenever you look into his eyes and smile.

he remembers when you’d open the door to the sight of him with tousled hair and dirt streaked on his skin and pull him inside without a second thought. he’d lean against your kitchen counter as you dabbed a soft damp cloth against his skin, your touch gentle but steady. you’d frown all the while as you cleaned him up, shushing and chastising him for never being careful.

the wanderer was never actually hurt, and he could’ve easily dealt with the issue without so much as a scratch reaching him, but he loved the way you fussed over him. the stubborn crease between your brows, the jut of your lower lip, the brush of your featherlight fingertips—though nothing compared to the unfiltered and honest look of concern and worry in your eyes.

It had been a long, long time since someone had looked at him in such a way. him, just as he was, with no purpose or usefulness to hide behind. a part of him felt annoyed by your insistence to care for him, and by the fact that he allowed you to perceive him as weak. but the other, louder part of him craved and so deeply desired the way you made him feel like he mattered.

and even still, you would never pry. you’d never pester him about why he would show up in such a state in the first place. in the months you had known him, he hadn’t told you anything. not even his name. you knew him only as a wanderer with no destination, and for this he was thankful. he was sure that if you know who he was, the things he had done, the lives he had taken—you would never look at him the same again.

he made no move to hide anything about himself from you, but he also didn’t go out of his way to tell you either. if someone were to tell you, he would make no move to stop them.

but nobody knew him.

nobody until you.

long ago the wanderer swore he would never find companionship again, but by the time he noticed the way he had grown attached to you, it was already too late to turn back.

the existence of his past that had once felt like an eternity became nothing but a ghost in the back of his mind as you became a part of his present. he should’ve known he was in too deep the day he finally agreed to start taking you with him on his travels, but he was too distracted by the hope and excitement on your face as you proposed the idea to him.

he knew it was risky. you couldn’t fight, didn’t know how to lie with a straight face, and refused to butcher and eat an animal even if it meant life or death; but he didn’t have it in himself to say no to you. you, who truly had no bad intentions or motives. you, who listened to every word he had to say with an open mind and no judgment in your heart. you, who reminded him why he had once been so fond of humans.

how foolish he was, to get caught up in the fragile web of a mortal life again. but there was no stopping when he started falling for you.

the first time he had ever snapped at you, raised his voice and said cruel things born from the anguish in his chest, you barely reacted. even as insults left his lips and he told you to get lost, you gazed at him with steady, understanding eyes and waited until he ran out of hurtful things to say.

as his chest heaved with anger and his fingernails dig into his palms where they were clenched into fists, you waited patiently. when he came back to himself and saw the wetness of unshed tears in your eyes, the guilt and regret that followed nearly knocked him off of his feet.

it was cowardly of him, but in that moment all he could do was turn on his foot and flee. he couldn’t bear to see that look on your face, knowing it was all his own doing. he spent until the sun began to set dragging his feet around, picturing the way you would regard him like the monster he was from this point onward.

when he returned to you, he expected to find you upset and disgusted with him. but instead, when he tentatively stepped into your home, he found you sitting half asleep at your kitchen table with a pot of his favorite tea that had long gone cold waiting for him.

you sat up quickly when you saw him cross the threshold, suddenly alert and awake. he could tell you were hesitant to say something, unsure of what state of mind the wanderer might be in right then, so he put extra effort into moving calmly as he approached the table and sat down as not to scare you.

that night, he told you everything. you held his hands tightly between yours and listened from beginning to end, letting him retell the devastating tale of the life he’d lived as a heartless puppet. you cried for him. you told him how sorry you were that he had to experience all of that, how sad you were that it’d been so long since he’d felt wanted. you accepted him, his sins, his selfishness and greed.

no matter how far he jumped, you always met him halfway. he was undeniably, pathetically in love with you.

eventually, almost like it was always meant to happen, the two of you fell into each others arms as seamlessly as a stream flows. it had been a little over a year since the day he met you that you leaned in and kissed him for the first time. the wanderer was only shocked for a moment before he melted into it and realized that there was nothing more he wanted in this world than to be with you.

he was happy, happier than he could remember being in centuries. there was nothing he had to hide around you, nobody he had to pretend to be that he wasn’t. it was as easy as ever to fall into a natural rhythm with you, wandering around teyvat and experiencing everything together. even the things he had already done before felt new and memorable with you.

everywhere you went, it was together. the wanderer had been given a chance to see the world through a clear lens again, though it had become rose tinted over time from the intensity of your affection.

the many sights he saw with you were indescribable, but his eyes always returned to you no matter how breathtaking it was. home was wherever you were, and so the two of you found home everywhere.

but there came a day when he was forced to face reality yet again. many years passed by your side, and even though it was only a short amount of time to him, it was a huge chunk of your lifetime. when your skin began to show wrinkles and people began to mistake him for your son, the terrifying thought crossed his mind.

you wouldn’t be around forever, your time was running out, and it rooted a deep seed of dread into his chest that threatened to bloom into something worse. it dug up old feelings that the wanderer hadn’t felt in years, ones that gripped their icy claws into his head until they were impossible to ignore.

just like everyone else, you would leave him too.

why? why did he only find happiness and belonging in the things that wouldn’t last? he didn’t want to be alone again. it was unfair, and never more than in that moment had he longed to be a normal human.

did it bother you that he would never be able to grow old with you? that people would assume him your grandson and pass judgment if they knew the truth? things would soon begin to grow complicated and people who had known you both would notice that he didn’t age.

you knew this as well as he did, and after a long and painful conversation about it, you insisted it didn’t bother you and made him promise to move forward even when you were gone. you knew he was afraid and that he had already lost so much, that there was a huge possibility that he would lose himself when you left. you feared that he had become too reliant on you.

that in itself was what had him making an oath to himself that he wouldn’t let you leave this world feeling worried about him. and he didn’t have it in him to break a promise to you.

when walking up steps became a difficult task for you, he’d wrap an arm around you and help you make it to the top. when you got worn out more easily and couldn’t keep up with traveling around anymore, he suggested the two of you finally settle down and return to your old house.

as you grew weaker every year and had to rely on him more, the wanderer never once complained or treated it like an inconvenience. he was there for you, just as he had promised he always would be. you never stopped being beautiful in his eyes, even when your hair turned gray and your joints achy. you still had the same sweet smile, the same captivating eyes, the same comforting smell. you were still you, and you were his.

eventually, when your skin had become pale and sallow and your hands too shaky and weak to hold anything, you had slowly reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes with a sad smile.

“i will come back to you,” you promised weakly, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “no matter how many times, no matter what form i take, my soul will always return to you.”

even as his heart got caught in his throat and tears spilled over his cheeks, the wanderer nodded weakly at your words.

“okay.”

during your final days, it took everything in him to hold it together. he spoon fed you as often as you’d let him, breath hitching every time you struggled to swallow. he stayed by your side and held your frail hands in his steady ones, planting soft kisses against your knuckles and whispering his love for you into your skin.

by the final evening, he wasn’t even sure if you could hear him anymore. still, he laid next to you the bed you shared and retold the old stories he remembers from the very beginning of your time together. it was hard to talk without breaking down when he knew you wouldn’t respond. only the sound of your shallow breathing filled the silence, growing slower and slower by the hour.

losing you was something he had long since been preparing for, but was never truly ready to experience. he had felt grief many times in the past, but it had never hurt this deeply. it was like a sheet of anguish clinging to him, weighing him down and piercing him with nails.

quiet, lonely, and cold, there was a giant gaping hole in his chest that you had once filled. a void that your existence managed to soothe, but it was there again. loud, unforgiving, and so, so unbearably painful.

he cried more than he ever thought himself capable of in the weeks that followed. everywhere he looked, he could only see where you should’ve been. the wind was lonely without the sound of your voice, and the sky dull. maybe it was just his imagination, but even the birds and bugs seemed less lively without you.

there was a suffocating stillness clouding his perception of reality. he didn’t want to acknowledge that time was passing without you, or that he would never feel your warmth next to him anymore, but he knew you were gone. there was nothing he could do.

it hurt. it hurt so badly that he could still hear his own guttural sobs even over the deafening downpour of rain as it soaked him to the bone where he sat hunched over in front of where you had been buried not long before.

he missed you so much. even though he had gone so long being alone before he met you, it was as if he was experiencing it all for the first time again. his lungs burned and his chest ached as he choked on humid air, wishing you were still there to comfort him like you always had been.

“please,” he called softly into the wind, willing himself to hold on to even the smallest shard of hope. “keep your promise.”

there was no response.

he was alone again.

#yaepublishinghouse #requests! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing

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byebyelullabye · 2 years

Text

seven ~ b.b

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

benedict bridgerton had been the age of seven the day he met y/n l/n. seven hours later, he declared her his bride.

(inspired by forgive me, a fic by @benedictscanvas !! highly recommend you go read it!!)

a/n: first bridgerton fic!! i was inspired by the fic above but i changed some of the ages to make a bit more sense.

warning: really. really. really bAD wRITINGggg. im really unsure abt this bc im still figuring out my writing style and honestly idk how to write in a regency-like manner so pls feel free to spew feedback :) also im really sorry if this didn't really live up to the hype im still learning how to develop my own voice etc etc so feedback is all the more appreciated <3

masterlist

~ fifteen (part 2)

Benedict Bridgerton had been the age of seven the first time laid his eyes upon seven-year-old Y/n L/n.

It had not been expected. It began as an ordinary day, like any other. At least, as normal as it could be for a member of the great Bridgerton clan. So far there were only four Bridgerton children (though there was no doubt among the Ton there would be more to come): Antony (10), Benedict (7), Colin (3), and little baby Daphne who was turning a year old in just a few weeks.

Breakfast was served, in abundance of course, considering the hefty appetite of the growing Bridgerton boys. Colin would attempt to snatch a piece of pastry from one of his brother’s plates. Daphne would start crying in the middle of the meal, needing the comfort of her mother’s arms. Breakfast would end with full stomachs. Daphne was put to sleep. The boys ran off in different paths, in different pursuits. Then, Lady Bridgerton prepared the drawing room for her incoming guests.

Everyone remembered that day differently, apart from Daphne who barely knew anything at that age. Although Anthony would admit later on that he did not care enough to note any details because he thought it as just an ordinary day. But Benedict, second-born he was, always thought of that day he first saw an angel before his eyes.

When reminiscing upon that day, Benedict was ashamed to think he did not even notice her when he walked into the drawing room. She was there with her mother, Lady L/n. They had been invited by Lady Bridgerton for tea that day, because after all what else are you supposed to do with your charming new neighbors?

The L/n family, composed of Lord and Lady L/n along with their shy young daughter Y/n, spent much of their time traveling before deciding to settle their residence in Mayfair after careful consideration and a longing ache for stability and society. Lady Bridgerton heard about her family's new neighbors from the grapevine of the Ton but never saw them with her own eyes until a week later when they were all settled in the house. Knowing no one among their circle, Lady L/n reached out to the other mothers but was met with that certain brand of indifference that accompanies new change. Lady Bridgerton never tolerated such crass behaviour so she invited her new neighbor and her daughter to her home the next day.

Which leads to where they are now, in the drawing-room of the great Bridgerton House, peacefully sipping tea in between flowing waves of animated conversation between the two ladies. Y/n opted to hide behind her tea cup, now that she could no longer hide behind her mother’s skirt.

Benedict was not even supposed to be in the drawing room but nevertheless, he needed his pencils for his newfound hobby of sketching. Once he entered, however, his pencils were the last things on his mind.

Once his eyes landed on her, his heart raced. His cheeks reddened. His eyes widened. The world silenced. Without a word, thoughts of sketching flew out of his head as he immediately ran to her.

Because she spilled tea on her dress.

In all fairness, it was not her fault. Benedict's younger brother Colin had taken a habit of exploring every new place and every new person that he came upon. Thus, he wanted to startle the new presence in his home by pulling one of the stray locks of her hair. Immediately after, Colin sprinted out of the room to escape the wrath of his mother and brother.

Benedict ran to Y/n's side and kneeled on the ground to pick up the chipped teacup she dropped from the floor. He offered it to her in his outstretched hand.

Before he could scold his brother, Benedict looked into her eyes, and all the world outside them faded. Time slowed. He gasped. His mouth went dry as his jaw dropped. For a second, his heart stopped. Then, all he could hear in his ears was every breath he expelled from his lungs. Butterflies grew forth in his stomach, each wing beating in time with his pounding heart. As if hie eyes were a telescope focusing on a singular point, he gazed upon her and got lost inside the galaxies of her soft doe eyes staring back at him.

Then, she smiled.

Benedict Bridgerton was seven years old the day he fell in love with seven-year-old Y/n L/n.

She looked ethereal. As far as Benedict was concerned, she was ethereal. She wore her aura of warmth like a halo above her head. It glimmered like her eyes, illuminating her god-sculpted features. Her enchanting albeit shy smile shone and melted through his heart. He was in such a daze he could have sworn there were sparks when their fingertips grazed each other once she took the teacup.

He couldn't stop staring at her even if he tried. He didn't really try, anyways. As she stood, he continued to stare at her like a work of art from the first time he stepped foot inside a museum: full of awe, marveling and questioning how he, a mere mortal, was allowed to be in the presence of such beauty.

"Thank you", she whispered in a heavenly melodious voice that took his speech away.

Benedict remained kneeling on the ground before her. Nothing in the world could have stopped him from gaping at her. Not even his own mother, who took hold of his chin to close his mouth. Lady Bridgerton hid her smirk and the twinkle in her eyes behind a well-placed cup of tea as he ran off to compose himself. Lady L/n shared the same look as she took a sip of tea, mirroring Lady Bridgerton's expression.

Y/n was quiet for the rest of the conversation between her mother and Benedict’s. She hadn't touched her cup of tea or any of the pastries laid out. Her eyes wandered all over the drawing room as she tried to amuse herself. She wanted to be interested in her mother's conversation but she did not have the patience for it. Her expression of exponential boredom was painted all over her face and both mothers took notice of this.

“Miss L/n, would you like to play with some of my children? I just had a daughter and I'm afraid she’s still too young to be playing but I’m sure my sons would enjoy your company. Perhaps in the garden?”, Lady Bridgerton asked Y/n, eyeing Benedict who was poorly hiding behind an antique vase, while Y/n's mother brushed away the stray curl Colin pulled on.

Benedict saw her eyes light up, even from afar.

“Please, Mother, may I? Please?”, Y/n pleaded with her mother as she clasped her hands together.

“I do not see any reason why not.” Lady L/n answered cooly, catching Lady Bridgerton's eye.

Without another word, Y/n ran out of the room. She stopped to look at the wide hall and marveled at the art of the house. The arching roof. The cream-painted walls. The elegant curve of the staircase. Her gaze roamed all over as she buzzed excitedly. Eventually, her eyes landed on Benedict who had done nothing to stop hiding nor moved an inch away. His cheeks reddened when she found him, adamantly refusing to look her in the eye.

"Why are you hiding?", she asked him as she stepped closer to examine him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

He cleared his throat and did his best to meet her gaze, "'m sorry, a gentleman is not supposed to stare."

"You were staring at me? Why? Is there something on my face?" She worried, panic rising in her voice.

"Oh no! Your face is fine", he assured her, "You have a very nice face", he looked back down at the ground after the reality of his afterthought caught up to him.

Y/n stayed quiet for a while, unable to look at him. It is unfortunate that Benedict wasn't able to catch her giddy smile.

"... Thank you", she smiled. For the second time that day, Benedict's heart stopped.

Once he recovered his voice, he apologized. "'m sorry 'bout my brother. He does that to everyone. I hope he didn't tug on your hair too tight."

"I am fine. I'm just glad the lock didn't fall off my head", she said before trailing off. Once she turned her back to him, Benedict came out of his corner. She turned back, however, Benedict was speechless again.

"Can you show the house? At least the playroom? Your mother told me you have gardens" she shyly asked with a small smile.

Benedict held out his hand and she took it as he led her up the stairs. He turned his head so she would not see the tomato red blush blanketing his cheeks. They walked up the stairs quietly, Y/n trailing behind and neither pair of eyes meeting to preserve their coloring.

They were halfway through the steps when mischief struck. Benedict's two brothers, Anthony and Colin (from earlier) saw the entire interaction from the top of the stairs. They were devilish little buggers, as their father would say. So what else do you expect them to do but push Y/n down the stairs as they ran past her?

Benedict was furious. The pair of them reveled in the annoyance of the middle brother and with Y/n’s appearance that day, it attracted their mischief like flies to honey. Benedict helped Y/n to her feet and grabbed her hand to run up the stairs, lest they should run into his brothers again.

Unfortunately, he missed Y/n’s giddy smile again with his insistent running. Not to worry, she smiled all the while they played throughout the day and throughout the garden.

It wasn't until a few hours after (seven hours to be precisely exact) Y/n and her mother had left that Benedict realized he never got her name. That evening, he turned and asked his mother.

"Mother, who was she?"

She looks up from her embroidery. "Who, darling?"

"The angel" He didn't hesitate to answer.

His words caught the attention of everyone in the drawing-room at the present moment. Upon hearing him, they all froze and turned their heads in his direction. (Everyone except Little Colin who was preoccupied with a plate full of cookies). His father, on the other hand, looked up from his newspapers and turned to his wife who smiled knowingly.

"What angel?" His father asked with a curious tone and narrowed eyes.

"The one who visited today", Benedict insisted.

"The one who spilled tea on her dress?", Anthony cheekily inquired before taking a biscuit.

Benedict was about to lunge at his older brother's smug face when Anthony quickly replied, "Because if she's clumsy enough to spill tea on her dress, I don't think she's an angel at all."

"She is an angel! She's too pretty to be like us!" Stomped Benedict exasperatedly.

His father adds pensively, “Perhaps she fell from the heavens.”

“Like she fell down the stairs?” Anthony continued to annoy his younger brother. Like ten-year-olds tend to do.

“You and Colin made her fall down the stairs! That wasn’t her fault!” Benedict continued to stomp his tiny foot.

"Calm down, dear." His mother soothed him as he sat across from her.

"Benedict, why do you want to know her name anyway?" His father inquired as he folded his newspaper.

Benedict stayed quiet before shyly answering. "Well, I simply want to know what to call her the next time I see her."

"What makes you think you are going to be seeing her again?”, Anthony pipes up.

"Darling, how long were our new neighbors here? Weren't they here for hours?" Lord Bridgerton turns to his wife after she shakes her head no, "Benedict, the girl was here for hours and you never asked for her name? Does she know yours?"

"Father, I was too distracted!" Benedict admitted embarrassedly. "She smiled at me!"

His mother, his only ally, answered to her eldest son and husband, “Well, Anthony, my love, I found her mother delightful and I have no doubt that we shall be great friends. Also, we are neighbors, after all. Why Benedict never asked for her name, I have no idea”

“Mother, not you too!" The world spun around too fast for his liking. With an angel appearing before him and his family relentlessly teasing him for his reaction to seeing an angel before him, he was lightheaded.

Out of all the excitement rushing through his veins (or the sour of the moment), Benedict loudly proclaimed, "I am going to visit her tomorrow!”

Once again, the room fell silent. Knowing glances were exchanged between his parents. Anthony kept his smug smirk on his face and Coin continued to eat, oblivious to the conversation of his family around him.

“Dearest, why are you going to her house?", his mother slyly asked.

"Because I want to see her!"

Anthony remarks, "Why?"

"Because I want to see her again!"

"Why?", Anthony repeats.

"So I can talk to her!"

Colin mimicked his brother, asking, "Why?"

Then, Benedict hesitated. A few beats of silence preceded his carefully chosen next words, "...So I can court her…"

At this point, his father had already resigned from the conversation but upon the faithful words, his attention was pulled toward his second son once again.

"Now, why on Earth would you do that?"

Benedict was now beyond exasperated. His head looked like a boiling tea kettle, with the fumes smoking out of his ears and the blood boiling in his face for an entirely different reason from before.

"BECAUSE I AM GOING TO MARRY HER!"

Clack!

Lady Bridgerton dropped her cup of tea.

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