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#god i love fanfiction
ashercries23 · 8 months
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@killerqueen-ofwillowgreen reading Only The Brave by @solmussa while i’m reading The Catfish & The King by @thebibutterflyao3 is like that Nicholas Galitzine tiktok audio that goes “my life is the crown and yours is politics, and i will not trade one prison for another.” then switches to “im sorry i looked at mrs. riley and lightly grazed her left tit alright?” (respectively). peri is SUFFERING with the angst and im giggling at how silly everyone is.
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wolfriver777 · 1 month
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Mer phase over I'm into space now
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uselessroyals · 2 years
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fanfiction recommendations pt 2
(because i have more! 1st list is here.) (These are once again all wilmon, because of course they are)
oneshots
"you're everything i have (and i don't think i've had enough)" by storyoftucks post season 1, Wilhelm bumps into Simon at a party and they finally get the chance to talk about them and their relationship, fluff, 2.1k words
"Show me how (you care)" by orphan_account season 1 retelling from simon's pov, 3.1k words
"This Boy" by fandom_commitment_issues post season 1, Wilhelm comes home for Christmas and Kristina invites his friend from his old school over, 10.3k words
"The worst things in life come free to us" by ageminiheart Episode 5, Simon's pov of Lucia, angst, 2.5k words
"Let Me Go" by paspeurpasseul post season 1, Wilhelm and Simon talk for the first time since Christmas break, it's harder than Wilhelm thought it would be to see Simon smile again, especially when that smile isn't directed at him, angst, 2.6k words
"forget me not" by spa_ghetto post canon, established relationship, Simon hits his head and gains temporary amnesia, h/c, 6.7k words
"Dandelions" by willehelms post canon, established relationship, Wilhelm is tipsy and they're in love, that's it, fluff, 1.4k words
"and they were roommates" by toffeelemon au, Simon boards at Hillerska, Simon and Wilhelm are roommates, 28.5k words
multichaps
"A Royal Intervention" by AnxiousAnaconda AU where Erik doesn't die, and he is a slightly overprotective older brother, 8/8 chpt, 17.8 k words
"Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart" by notalotgoingonatthisinstant post season 1, Simon gets a serious head injury and it might be the last straw for Wilhelm to gather the courage to blackmail his mother, 10/10 chpt, 49.5k words
"the way you look at me" by strummerjoe university AU, Simon didn't go to Hillerska, Simon and Wilhelm are roommates at uni, 13/13 chpt, 33.7k words
"my kingdom come undone" by tennisfangirl post season 1, Wilhelm goes looking for salvation at the bottom of a bottle, this one's angsty but also a lot of h/c, 3/3 chpt, 9.2k words
"and each slow dusk" by loyaulte_me_lie two months after Wille’s arrival at Hillerska, war breaks out, when his and Erik's last-ditch attempt to leave the country goes badly wrong, he ends up stuck in Bjärstad - with Simon, lots of politics, 3/3 chpt, 48.5k words
"call me back" by paldogangsaan post season 1, Wilhelm attempts, yeah this one's angsty, 6/6 chpt, 15.8k
"Answer Me This" by BishopRose 7 years post season 1, What if Wilhelm and Simon both eventually moved on, heartbroken, but never really stopped thinking about what could have been? What if they thought they’d never see each other again... until suddenly, years later, Fate stepped in, series, 10.2k words
(1st list is here!)
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festeringmoons · 22 days
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Outlining a spontaneous story idea and it’s absolutely genius and all my little notes are the actual definition of hilarious and it’s so deep but also it’s late which means that tomorrow when I reread it I just know that it will be entirely incoherent and objectively terrible
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sometinybees · 9 months
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God I love thilbo writers
Been reading this bagginshield fic for forever now and it took them like over 100k words and 56 chapters to really kiss, like more than just a peck on a cheek. It's incredible I'm obsessed. If your slow burn isn't this glacially slow I don't want it
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mlamhfynaeai · 1 year
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i was reading a fic rn and i just. why are they british?
like LAUGHING OUT LOUD WHY THEY ARE SUDDENLY BRITISH THEY ARE FROM FUCKING NEW JERSEY UNITED STATES NORTH AMERICA
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lineffability · 9 months
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"Crowley."
Crowley froze, every atom of his body coming to a complete standstill. Aziraphale had appeared out of nowhere, just like that, and he felt like a fly in a spider's web, like he had just run against a glass door that he could not have seen. Oh, this was cruel. He did not turn around.
"Don't even use doors anymore?" He tried to keep his voice level, cold, unaffected. He failed considerably, but the message got across anyways.
"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, immediately flinching at the words. The first time they were seeing each other again, after-- after that, and his first words were I'm sorry and he was apologizing for not using a door? Aziraphale felt like swearing, but could not. "I thought you wouldn't open if I-- well. I thought this was easier. Like a bandaid."
"Well, you were right. I wouldn't have." Steel was creeping into Crowley's voice, steel around his heart. With a forcing of limbs, he spun around, his gaze piercing through the armor of his sunglasses. Facing him.
"I need your help" Aziraphale said.
"What," Crowley said. He had possibly never put as much meaning into a single word. The glass door turned into a Great Wall. Aziraphale understood. But he was willing to climb.
The angel (oh, a true angel now, wasn't he--not his angel) fumbled, talking with his hands before his mouth even opened. Talking with his eyes, too, but they got lost in translation. Repelled by a black mirror.
"I know this is untoward. I know it's-- But Crowley, I don't have a lot of time."
"Nothing lasts forever, yeah," Crowley spat, hating himself the second the words left his lips. Unnecessary cruelty. Demonic, huh? Worse yet, Aziraphale accepted the verbal lashing. Don't forgive me, Crowley thought.
Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all.
"Why are you here?"
Aziraphale glanced upwards. Then he looked intently at Crowley. I don't have much time. Right. He couldn't speak freely, Crowley realized. Of course he couldn't. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, what he had known would happen. His angel in chains. (Yet here he was. Here he was.)
"They don't know I'm here," Aziraphale mumbled, gesticulating weakly between them and Up. "I guess I can divert their attention now, for a bit. Comes with the new powers"--he shrugged helplessly--"but not for long. Crowley, do you know about-- about the-- what they're--"
"Armageddon 2.0? Sure."
There was an undecipherable look in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why didn't you-- well. It's not just. I mean it kind of is--it's. More than that. Crowley, I need you to do something for me."
"No."
"This is important." (This isn't about us.)
"I don't care." (There is no us anymore.)
"You do! You always have."
"Oh not this again," Crowley hissed. "You were an angel once. You can be forgiven. Shut up."
"That's not what I meant."
With two long, angry strides, Crowley closed the space between them. Menace, anger, hurt-- "Then what did you mean?" He spat the words. Like a weapon. (Then why was it a question?)
Aziraphale's face crumbled. He stood his ground nonetheless, not backing away. The angel's anger was less spiky, but it rose to meet Crowley's. It made his next words hit like bricks. "I mean that you love. I mean that you, Crowley, are the best person I know. I mean that I love you."
The words dropped like a lead balloon.
There was utter silence between them.
Why were they so close?
Why were his sunglasses so dark? Aziraphale saw only his own reflection. He couldn't bear that, and dropped his gaze. Oh, worse. There was his mouth, mere inches away.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips, really really looked, and there was nothing more, now that he knew about the feeling of Crowley's lips and of his heart, there was nothing more he wanted to do than to kiss him. But he couldn't, he couldn't. Not like this. He needed the next time (he had to believe in a next time, in a time with Crowley, again)--the next time they kissed he needed it to be good and happy and an affirmation. He couldn't bear it otherwise. He would break entirely. He was sure of it.
But still, still-- Crowley was so close. He could smell nothing but him. Think of nothing but him. That weakness again, that soft spot inside him he had never known how to hold down. And with it, Want reared its greedy head. Aziraphal leaned in ever so slightly, felt their noses touch-- and then used all his strength to move away, to pull back. It was not the right time. Not yet.
He looked past Crowley, who might have as well turned to a pillar of salt. Crowley, whose face was a mask he couldn't let slip. The air flickered between them.
There were tears in his eyes when he finally forced his gaze towards Crowley's face, a silent plead to not misunderstand. Please, please. But he couldn't expect that of him. He was pulling away again. But not because he wanted to. No, there was nothing he wanted more than to pull closer. There was nothing more he wanted than to talk to him, to truly talk, to explain and apologize and make amends, but he was bound by Duty and Rules and Watching Eyes more than he ever had been.
This was his rebellion: he lifted a hand, the ghost of a touch, fingertips against cheekbone. The memory of holding on. Of never wanting to let go. Crowley flinched without moving, a shiver of his lips. Aziraphale let his hand drop, briefly, to Crowley's chest, holding it over his human heart. It was beating just like his.
This was his successful magic trick, when it counted: he drew away, leaving a crack in Crowley's steel-clad heart, and a note in his chest pocket.
"I'm sorry. I need to go."
"Of course you do."
"Oh, Crowley. I--" But he did not finish the sentence, knew there was no proper way how. So he said, quietly, softly, "Trust me, please."
And he did. Crowley hated it, hated it so much, but he did, he did trust him despite it all. But it did not erase the hurt. The festering wound. Now what was he supposed to do with that?
With one last pointed look, Aziraphale vanished.
Crowley was alone.
His defenses lay shattered at his feet, and he slowly gathered them back up. He did not mend the cracks. (That's where the light had gotten in.) He cleared his throat. Tried to banish from his mind the look in Aziraphale's eyes, the memory of his lips and of his tears.
And failed considerably.
I love you.
(Touched his cheek, and then his chest, and faltered.)
[this fic is now also on ao3 and being continued there]
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starch1ldz · 2 months
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"I could fix him"
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NO YOU COULDN'T BECAUSE HE DOESN'T NEED FIXING!! He needs love :( so so so much love and care and someone to treat him tenderly like he's the only thing that matters in the world
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fennethianell · 4 months
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Wish You Were Here chapter 12 always on my mind
like how soft they were here, and then... PAIN
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natalievoncatte · 14 days
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Kara knew something was wrong from Lena’s heartbeat. That alone, the barely detectable change in rhythm and tempo, was enough, but her breathing was erratic and as Kara drew nearer, drifting through the afternoon air, she could hear the soft sobs.
A bad feeling had come over Kara. Things had been quiet between the two of them ever since the wedding; there had been a strange tension between them on that happy day and Kara couldn’t say why
(she knew what she wanted it to be but didn’t dare hope)
and with Alex and Kelly away on their honeymoon, Kara had mostly been on her own. Nia was spending most of her free time with Brainy and Kara sensed a proposal coming, and she was busy preparing for her public interview with Cat Grant. She was going to rip the bandages off and reveal her identity. There was a great deal of work involved, and Kara had spent a lot of time fretting over the details, and in the back of her head she was worried about the ramifications of years spent reporting on Supergirl and using “her” as a source. It was a massive ethical dilemma, and thought it always made sense at the time…
Right now all that mattered was the heartbeat. Kara had been giving Lena the space she sensed she needed, but Jess had called Kara from the Foundation and told her that Lena hadn’t come to work in three days, and no one had heard from her. It was uncharacteristic of someone who ran her life with almost military precision. Kara had even asked Alex to text Lena, but they’d gotten the same single word replies.
Kara pulled in a big breath, feeling her stomach churn as she lighted on the balcony and slid open the door, knowing it would be unlocked. She wished Lena would stop doing that, but also felt a little tilt in her chest from knowing Lena hadn’t locked her out.
She was on the sofa, curled up on her side and asleep. She’d probably had the same pajamas on for two days and there were empty bottles of wine in a neat row on the table in front of her. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her cheeks a little raw. Kara felt an instant pang and reached for her, before stopping to deactivate her suit.
Kneeling next to the sofa, Kara touched her fingers to Lena’s shoulders. Lena woke instantly with a start, head jolting up as she sucked in a reedy breath and her heart raced explosively, sending a shock of terror up Kara’s spine.
“Oh fuck,” Lena blurted, kicking out her legs as she bolted upright. “Oh God, Kara what…”
“Hey,” Kara said softly. “I was… I’m sorry. Are you okay? I came in through the balcony. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Lena’s chest heaved as she gasped for breath, staring at Kara with watery eyes. “Are you real?”
“What? Yes, of course I’m real.”
“I must have been dreaming. It was a dream. Just a dream. I was dreaming,” Lena muttered.
Kara rose from her knees and sat down on the couch.
“Come here.”
Lena almost crashed into her, wrapping her arms tightly around Kara and squeezing hard. She smoothed her fingers over the soft dark waves of Lena’s hair and pulled her in as she began to sob into Kara’s shoulder.
“I dreamed he killed you,” Lena choked out. “He came back again and he killed you and I couldn’t stop it. It felt so real.”
“I’m fine. I’m right here.”
Lena continued to sob, her entire body shaking with the force of it. Kara wrapped her in a fierce hug, trembling as she did.
“Every time I close my eyes he’s there, and when I’m awake all I can think about is that I killed my brother.”
“That didn’t happen in this timeline.”
Lena choked out an angry, frustrated sob. “It happened for me. I aimed a gun at my own brother’s chest and I pulled the trigger. And he came back! He came back and he almost killed you two or three fucking times, I can’t count.”
“He’s gone. He’s not coming back.”
“You can’t just say that!” Lena screamed into Kara’s throat.
Stunned, Kara softened her grip on Lena, only for Lena to pull her in harder, like she was trying to climb inside her.
“Why can’t I stop mourning him? He ruined my life. He was the person I trusted most and he turned out to be a monster. He used me my whole life and my emotions were just a game to him. He tried to to kill the woman I… tortured you, took you away for months and I thought I’d never see you again. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was and how much…”
Lena cut herself off with a sob.
“I know it’s not the same,” Kara murmured, “but when I was a little girl I worshipped my father. I wanted to grow up like him and do what he did. I was going to be a scientist too.”
“You’d have been a good one.”
Kara shook her head. “My father was responsible for the Medusa virus. A bioweapon designed to eradicate non-Kryptonian life. A weapon of genocide.”
Lena shuddered.
Kara swallowed, hard.
“My world wasn’t a paradise. It felt that way because it was simple for me. There wasn’t all the pain of learning alien ways and an alien language and controlling superpowers and everything else. My father taught and protected me and my mom maintained order. But it was wasn’t a paradise. My people were… Krypton was… I think in a lot of worlds out there, we were the bad guys. Okay, the Daxamites were slavers, but on Krypton people were born into the labor guild and did menial jobs their whole lives, while people like me were born into privilege. Is that much better?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t judge you for mourning Lex, Lena. He was your protector and your friend, and it was real to you. If there’s anything I hate him for, it’s hurting you.” Kara swallowed. “The one thing I can’t abide is anyone hurting you. I’ll break all my rules to keep you safe.”
Lena’s breathing eased and Kara could feel her relax.
“I’ve been avoiding you.”
“I figured you needed space. I wasn’t sure why but I trusted you to tell me if you need to.”
There was a long, heavy pause, and then Lena said.
“Kara, I can’t do this. I can’t share you.”
“Share me?”
“When you reveal your identity,” Lena pulled back, “you’re going to be the most famous person in the word. Everyone is going to be all over you. The press, politicians, everybody, and everyone who has a grudge against you or your cousin is going to know exactly where to find you, all the time.”
“I’ll keep you safe, no one will…”
“I didn’t say anything about me. You, Kara. What about you?”
“I’m Supergirl. I’ll be fine.”
“And what about me?” said Lena.
“I told you…”
“No. What about me when I have to watch you getting beaten to a pulp by another alien? What about me when you’re in a coma on the sun bed? What about me when I see on the news that a bomb went off in your apartment and I have to wonder if it was laced with Kryptonite shrapnel? I’m not worried about people coming after me. I’m a billionaire with magic powers. I could put on a goofy costume and join the club if I wanted. I’ve already lost you so many times and I can’t do it again.”
Stunned, Kara sat with her eyes wide, not sure when exactly she’d lifted Lena into her lap.
“It’s so selfish of me,” Lena went on. “You don’t belong to me. I don’t get to make demands of you. But don’t want you to out yourself. I don’t want to lose you again. As soon as you do this you’re going to be hounded by the whole world and they’ll claw you away from me again.”
Kara’s own heart raced now, hammering in her chest. Lena sounded so desperate and so sure, clinging to a Kara like she might disappear.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s your choice and I have to respect it. It’s okay,” she was clearly telling herself.
“No,” Kara choked out, “no it’s not. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”
“Kara,” said Lena.
“No. I have been. I can’t believe I said what I said to you at the wedding, about not being my authentic self. To you, of all people.”
Lena swallowed hard. Kara drew back and looked at her, really looked at her, drinking in the soft beauty of her eyes as she swept back a tear with a brush of her thumb. Lena’s eyes were huge, her lips trembling, and Kara felt an almost painful pang of sorrow and regret and a powerful stirring, long thrust down and buried and now clawing its way forth as Lena stared back, the deep sadness and loss in her own eyes tinged by a hint of forlorn hope.
“I can’t believe that I can see through walls and I’m so blind.”
“Kara?” Lena whispered.
“I’m calling it off. I’ll keep my secret.”
“You don’t have to do that just to please me.”
“I don’t need them. I need you. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”
Lena’s heart raced so fast that Kara briefly thought she might have to fly her to the hospital. Instinctively, she slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and stood, lifting Lena as if she weighed nothing.
Eyes wide, Lena bit her lip.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean when you say you’re mine? I need you to say it, Kara. I was too scared at the wedding. I can’t do this. I need you to.”
Oh.
Kara shifted her Lena’s weight in her arms, bring them closer together. She’d danced this dance before; she thought of the day she came back from the Phantom Zone, when she held Lena in her arms and felt the sun again and she almost did it, she almost just fucking did it…
And she did it.
She kissed Lena, already ready to sputter an apology and find a way out of this, but her words were lost when Lena’s soft lips met hers and Lena was ready to devour her, happily rocketing past chaste first kiss as she grabbed Kara with both hands and pulled her in.
Kara’s stomach flipped. She didn’t know what to do. She’d been kissed, she thought she’d been intimate, but she could see now that those things had been mere stimulation and nothing more. Something soared inside her as she had soared in the sky the very first time she flew. Joy unbridled swelled in her chest and she could feel Lena laughing exultantly into her mouth and even as tears mingled on her cheeks.
She wanted this. She wanted this. It was right here all along.
“Kara,” Lena whispered. “I…”
“Should I put you down?”
“On the bed.”
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jar-of-maise · 8 months
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"Lynette!" Lyney bursts into the living room with uncharacteristic clumsiness. Leaning against the door frame, Lyney looks like the perfect image of chaos. Little streamers erupt from his pockets and tiny fireworks explode, crackling from under hat and sleeve as he stumbles through the doorway. 
The ominous smell of smoke begins to taint the air. 
"Lyney, you know what the rules are about magic props inside the house," Lynette chides, blowing on her tea meticulously without looking at her brother. 
"Is something wrong...Lyney?" Freminet asks hesitantly, unsure of how to breach the topic. 
His older brother huffs dramatically, staggering over to the couch with comically elongated steps. Freminet has to remind himself that this is his older brother, Lyney the Magician, the responsible team leader they all look up to and admire. 
He takes another look at Lyney's frazzled expression and decides that now might not be one of those times. 
“Oh it’s horrid!” Lyney whines, “the show’s all falling to pieces now!” He exclaims, shoving his face into a cushion. Freminent glances at Lynette, who’s determinedly ignoring Lyney and eyeing a slice of cake on the table. 
“Leave him be,” she says when she notices Freminent’s silent cry of help, “he’s just being dramatic. Lyney pull yourself together,” she scolds, carefully slicing through the cake with a fork, “you’re making Freminent worry.” 
“Oh my dearest little brother! I had no idea, please forgive me for causing you grief!” Lyney monologues, in a manner not very different to how Lady Furina would deliver speeches, “but this is a matter of utmost importance, I’m really in a pickle.”
“Lynette, maybe…” Freminent begins, watching as his sister’s tail flicks, “hm? Oh alright,” she says in an exasperated voice, “Lyney, use your words. What. Is. It?” 
“I,” Lyney begins, delighted to have an audience, “have a problem!”
“I’m delighted to know that you have gained self-awareness,” Lynette replies dryly, reaching for another slice of cake, Freminent watches her and knows that a scolding from Lyney is imminent, but keeps his mouth shut.
“Oh Lynette, how could you be so cold to your dear brother?” Lyney continues to complain, he rests his cheek on the cushion and sighs. 
“Are you going to talk about your problem or not?” 
“All in due time, there’s no need to be impatient,” Lyney retorts, Freminent blinks, clutching Pers a little tighter as he gets comfortable.
“See, it goes a little like this,” Lyney begins wistfully, “I’ve been experiencing something quite phenomenal you see,” he says, eye turning round, “my hands have been sweating a lot, and it’s like my heart is about to go–” Lyney snaps his fingers and miraculously, a shower of blue coloured butterflies erupt from his fingertips. 
“Like that!” He waves his hands.
Freminet nods, “I see,” he says, absorbing himself in the storytelling. 
“Just get on with it,” Lynette says, delicately pouring herself another cup of tea, her ears pricked in a very satisfied manner. 
“Well!” Lyney continues unoffended, “my brain has also been going fuzzy and I’m finding it hard to focus…no matter what happens, I just keep thinking about the same thing. But sometimes I’m giddy and all mushy like–” 
“Please don’t,” Lynette interrupts, “it’ll be a hassle to clean up later.” 
“Oh just this once, please Lynette, please?” 
Lynette sighs, “fine.” She says, with unamused eyes. 
Lyney grins and melts himself onto the couch, “I’m melting like sugar, or one of those chocolates that dissolve in your mouth!” He proclaims, and throws a sweet at Freminet who catches it, “Caramel Melts; nothing like a melt to give you a little help,” he says slowly, reading the cursive print on the wrapper. 
“Where did you get this from?” Freminet asks curiously. 
“Unimportant,” Lyney says dismissively, “I’ll get you some more if you like them though, but anyways, all of the symptoms listed above,” Lyney unravels a scroll and unrolls it with a flourish. 
Freminet should be used to Lyney’s tricks by now, but he’s still amazed at the fountain pen that begins writing by itself, “sweaty hands, strange emotions; mushiness, unreasonable amounts of joy…” he stops reading. 
“All of these,” Lyney points at the scroll, “are what I believe are symptoms of…” he pauses for dramatic effect.
“That’s right! These are none other than…signs of heart stroke!” Lyney says proudly. 
There is a long, fat silence. 
The floor is very interesting, Freminet decides, and these shoes have a spectacular shine, I should really polish them some more, he thinks to himself.
“Lyney,” Lynette says, breaking the heavy silence, “you’re not going through heart stroke.” 
Thank archons, Lynette is here! Freminet doesn’t think he’d have the courage to say that to Lyney’s face, in a manner that wouldn’t make Lyney even more melodramatic. 
“What!? Then what is it?” Lyney asks, rising from the clutches of the plush couch for the first time. 
“My diagnosis is…” Lynette pauses for dramatic effect, and Freminet swears Pers is listening attentively too. 
They all hold their breaths. 
“You’re in love, Lyney.” Lynette announces, taking a long sip of her tea. Freminet’s eyes widen, but it doesn’t compare to the heavy thud he hears and the long, loud shriek of, “WHAT?!” That echoes well and truly wonderfully throughout Hotel Bouffes d'ete. From then on, the urban legends of Fontaine often speculated about a most inhuman ghoul or perhaps, troll that was being kept hidden in the Hotel basement. 
Not that such rumours could ever be proven. 
“Let them imagine,” Lynette would say, sipping her tea nonchalantly, “a little shock has never hurt anyone,” she glances at Lyney, who’s been sitting on his chair with a stunned expression on his face. Indeed, Lynette helps herself to a macaroon, perhaps the next step is to give Lyney a little push, after all, a gentle nudge has never hurt anyone either.
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oh-theatre · 8 months
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Writing scene descriptions:
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Writing dialogue:
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kitasgloves · 6 months
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Thinking about SUNA RINTARO who's relatively quiet around the team and his friends but won't shut the fuck up when he's alone with you. He talks about anything that's interesting, no matter how nonsensical it is. You love him, you really do but sometimes he really needs to shut his fucking mouth.
"Babe"
"Yeah?"
"Shut the fuck up"
And he does. Suna "Yes Ma'am/Sir, I will shut up" Rintaro. But minutes later he'll start blabbering again just to annoy you because he adores your irritated face.
When you're hanging out with his friends, it's like he's whole a different person. All cool and aloof but you know deep inside he's fighting the urge to talk your fucking ear off.
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andersonlore · 6 months
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# riding abby’s thigh is all i can think about. she’d be the one to encourage it in the first place, stating it was a crime you never had. the muscles in her thick thighs flexing as your bare cunt took what it needed. her boxers soaked as you moaned out her name. god, abby wishes she could see your ass right now, but it was even better looking upon your stunning face, pretty eyes locking on abby’s as you come.
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baker-chan-senpai · 1 year
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i LOVE alternate meeting serirei au's pass it on
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callsign-marlie · 2 years
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Hey Pretty Girl
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The Five Times Jake calls you his favorite pet name + one bonus little baby taste of angst :3
pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader genre: FLUFF warnings: unedited, light teasing and innuendos, mention of pregnancy and child birth, no y/n used a/n this is total fluff and it was just what I needed. very short in comparison to my normal things but i almost wanna do all of the young pilots with this prompt and a different quote each time, it was so wholesome ;^;
Please feel free to like, comment and reblog. Much appreciated and much love - marlie x
---
The First
“Hey pretty girl, slide me a bud, will ya?”
Blonde hair and blue eyes, a coy smile. Tanned skin pinched with a glaze sunned pink at the top of his cheeks and a clean pressed khaki uniform. The cap popped off of the glass with a fizz before you slid the bottle to him. “$5.50 for the boy in brown.”
“The boy,” he scoffed. Thick fingers gripped around the neck of the brew to coat his nails in condensation. The amber liquid swirled the enclosure of glass as he placed the rim to his lips. His eyes never left yours. “Not a boy. A man, darlin’. More of a man than any one you’ve had before tonight, I can assure you that.”
“And who said I wanted you, fly boy?” Your elbows were on the bar, leaning over the mahogany top. Even with the challenge of cleavage at your disposal, he never broke away from your gaze.
“Your eyes say enough. See ya soon, gorgeous.” He scribbled his name on the merchant copy of his receipt. A wink, the shine of a grin, and away he turned. 
You grabbed at the soggy slip of paper to find chicken scratch handwriting with ‘Jake’ and a phone number written on the bottom. Jake, huh?
The Second
“Hey pretty girl, that spot’s perfect. Just like me, right?”
He had bought you a bundle of sunflowers on a whim. They were gorgeous and tall, standing bright against the navy of your entry way in the antique crystal vase your mom had given you. Jake had cleaned up nicely in a crisp button down and slacks for your date to the local brewery down on the coast and had bought the bouquet for you on the ride home from a local farm stand. “Now you can think of me every time you leave the house and smile to start your day.”
You rolled your eyes, an endeared grin on your face. “You’re an ass, Seresin.”
“Maybe, but I’m your ass and that makes me the best ass around,” he chimed, jokingly hitting the back of his rump. “And this ass ain’t leavin’ for quite some time doll.”
“Then tell me, baby, what happens if the flowers die? How would I ever remember you then?” You lovingly wrap your arms around the top of his shoulders, careening up on your tiptoes to touch his nose with yours. 
His fingertips brushed a strand of hair that roguishly fell into your eyes. His eyes were the color of sea grass and his gaze was softly focused on your lips.  “Guess we’re just gonna have to go on more dates so I can get you more, right?”
The Third
“Hey pretty girl, may I have this dance?”
The reception was over and your feet were on fire, but you were finally home in your little shared apartment on base. Your hand, now coveted by a new diamond wedding band, sparkled under the high hat lights as Jake helped you up from the couch to the smooth sounds of John Mayer echoing in the background. Your white gown sweeped against the floor as he pulled you to his chest. 
Jake, your perfectly perfect Jake, dropped a soft kiss to your forehead, to the tip of your nose, to your lips. “Mrs. Seresin,” he whispered at each pass of his lips. You let your bare feet stand atop his, still encased in his military issued loafers and let his strong legs take you on a slow rock in your living room. It was the first time today that the two of you had been just alone: where the room wasn’t vibrating with clinking glasses or loud party music. 
Jake swayed with you gently even as the song changed, his hands dropped to your waist to rest on the crest of your bejeweled bum. You raised an eyebrow at your cheeky husband, who simply rolled his eyes and gave a boyish grin. “Just let me enjoy this baby.”
The Fourth
“Hey pretty girl, lemme help you, hold on.”
Jake’s large hands snuck underneath your rounded belly, lifting just enough weight to let your spine relax under the constant pressure of pregnancy. The dishes you were washing were suddenly forgotten and slipped from your fingers. A blissful sigh. “Ohhh, that’s the stuff, don’t stop.”
“Damn, all of my talent in bed and I’ve never heard you sound like THAT before,” he huffed, slowly letting your belly back down. “All I had to do was lift up peanut here and you’re putty, huh?” 
You pouted at the returning strain and snatched his hands back to place. You tilted your head to the side to leave a kiss and a teasing nip on his bicep. His fingers tickled over your skin in amusement.
“Uh-uh, don’t even think about it, Seresin. You stay right there.”
The Fifth
“Hey pretty girl, I’m your daddy.”
Tears were welling up in his eyes while he held the small pink bundle in his arms. She was so sleepy after making her grand entrance, kicking and yelling the entire birth. “Oh my god, I’m your daddy!”
“She looks just like you.” You were laying in your bed, completely spent, but glowing after all of your hard work pushing your new little love into the world. “You’re gonna be a great daddy, Jake.”
“And you’re gonna be a great mommy, honey girl.” He carefully made his way over to the bed and sat on the side to let your little girl close. Her eyes were closed and soft little breaths were leaving her mouth. Jake leaned over to plant a chaste kiss into your hair, your nose, your lips. He lingered longer than normal, touching his forehead to yours. 
“My pretty girls. All mine, all mine, until the day I die. I’ll never want nothing more than this.” 
Bonus: The Sixth
“Hey pretty girl, I’m alright.”
You launched yourself at your husband, tears streaming down your face. He winced under your arms, but did his best to wrap himself around you through all of the wires tubing he was attached to. Safe. His smooth hands rubbed up and down your back as you sobbed into his shoulder, leaving light taps on his back. “Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.”
“What, eject? It’s either that or die, and I’m too good to die while I’m still so young and handsome. You don’t want me to leave you a widow so soon, do you?” His megawatt smile showed reassurance, but you weren’t so sure it was real. You knew Jake better than he knew himself. His eyes, blackened from his impact, held something behind them that wasn’t there before: a fear. His façade was cracking at your worry.
“You won’t lose me, pretty girl. I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.”
“Promise me?” Your eyes just wouldn’t stop tearing up. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” His fingers made an ‘x’ over his heart. “And I really, really don’t wanna die. I have my whole life with you to look forward to.”
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