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victoirey · 1 year

Note

hiii! just trying to see if any avatar fic writers will do anything like this. can you write a jake x na'vi!reader x neytiri? if not, totally okay! :))

♡. "you were already ours." —

synopsis / general headcanons of how you and my blorbos met and some romantic hcs

gn!na'vi!reader | I've been getting quite a couple of polyamory requests lately— and I'd just like to tell you I'm extremely happy about that. thank you. I hope this lives up to your expectations, nonnie! [ 1 am maggie crawls into bed in the background , yawning ]

tags : @stomach-bugg09 @somerandomweeb2 @loaqi @mylovelo-ak

👏 okay let's get this goin

you grew up with neytiri, sylwanin and tsu'tey. you were just a friendly na'vi— looking for kids to play with, looking for games to laugh about— and somehow, someway, it was neytiri you bumped into. the second daughter of the olo'eyktan , and of course you were intimidated! neytiri was young and yet she had alot of potential— and also she was unbearably pretty. like, literally mostly she was just... really, really pretty. your mouth went dry when you bumped into her, but she only excused you with a curt nod of her head and an "it is alright."

you didn't know what was going through your mind as you stayed there, next to her— you didn't know what was going through your mind as you asked her, "would you like to play games with me?"

all you know is that three minutes in, you were both laughing. together. sylwanin & tsu'tey saw you, and let me tell you they were flabbergasted. they also saw the sparks of chemistry appearing between the two of you, and as they looked at eachother one last time — they ran into join your game.

that, ladies, gents, & variations thereof, is how a beautiful friendship began. a friendship , long lasting and getting through every problem with communication and maybe violence ! ( but only if you got hurt intentionally by some stupid bullies!! )

still, amidst the fights, amidst the laughter, amidst the unintelligible screaming— it was peaceful.

until the humans came.

you were foolish to believe humans could have some competence in them, back then.

grace taught the four of you, and you watched as your friends progressed and you witnessed yourself learn and grow— she taught you about humans, and you found yourself interested in them. more than any of your other friends.

you watched as sylwanin and tsu'tey fell inlove in the hold of the classroom.

you watched as neytiri playfully whacked tsu'tey, giving him a shovel talk— telling him , that if he ever hurt sylwanin— he'd die.

you watched as sa'nok taught your class stories of Earth, and you watched as her smile faltered when you asked if you could visit.

so many memories.

all in the hold of that classroom.

so why did it all have to go wrong?

"SYLWANIN!" neytiri screamed, in anguish. the entirety of the classroom went silent, the only noises heard being the ringing of your ears and the bullets and the bombs and the screams and the— and the cries. neytiri & tsu'tey were crying over sylwanin's corpse, held by tsu'tey— "oh, what do I do?!" tsu'tey cried— voice cracking near every word he spoke. neytiri could only look at her sister as tears fell.

why did this happen?

if they had never set the bulldozer on fire, would anything have changed? would anything have changed? perhaps the location, perhaps the time — but it would've still happened sooner or later.

that's what expected of humans, isn't it?

humans will always be greedy.

all of this would've happened. nothing would change.

but you still wish it happened later.

different location. different time. different year. different minute. different second.

just ... different.

that way,

as you kneel down to sylwanin's dead body, holding her hand and tearing up,

you wouldn't have had to experience this so young.

more time with sylwanin, was all you asked. more time. more smiles. more laughs. more hugs. it embodied all you needed. more time.

it was all you ever asked.

"why?!" you screamed, head placed onto sylwanins cold skin. "WHY DO YOU TAKE HER FROM US, O EYWA?!" tsu'tey flinched. you collapsed onto the dirt, sobbing.

why, Eywa?

why?

and yet, still,

life goes on.

sylwanin is gone, neytiri becomes the tsakarem — neytiri is left without a sister, mo'at and eytukan lost a daughter— and tsu'tey, a love. now, he is betrothed to her sister— both miserably tied to their fates. they accept it later on, but it still hurts. with everyone settling into their new statuses, the training gets harsher— the words cut deeper, and the knives get sharper. your clan bares their fangs at the sky people now. nevertheless, you grow. you continue to love. you continue to hope.

— and your hope was not for nothing.

for, as you hunt— you find jake sully.

you almost shoot him , yeah, but you know— in this angle particularly he looked like a viperwolf— and yet the spirit on your bow stops you.

Eywa has judged him first.

and she has deemed him adequate.

you cannot intervene.

it is you who saves him.

"why?" he asks.

"why did I save you?" you repeat, he nods. you think over it for a bit, but you find an answer.

"... you have a good heart. no fear."

he looks flattered, for a while. then, you, realizing that you probably inflated this douchebags ego, decided to follow up with a quick jab—

"but you are too loud. needed to shut you up."

his smile drops.

your smile forms.

"jeez, you're a bitch—" jake mutters, after having heard your many insults. they pierce through his ego, and your eyes pierce through his heart— because they're just that pretty. you're that pretty. you're like a pretty bitch! you're so his type. "and you are a baby." you bite back, he raises his hands in surrender. you smirk.

direhorses surround you, and spears raise as neytiri runs to you— shielding you from the false bodied demon. "mawey, neytiri!" you say, and jake is extremely confused. it seems you're defending him, which you are, because you are not going to let someone judged by Eywa rightfully— die just like that. neytiri looks at you confused, and slightly offended.

tsu'tey's eye twitches, and he compells his direhorse to step forward— he tilts his head looking down on you. " what did the sky demon do to you ? do not tell me you have been brainwashed , y/n. " he spits. neytiri looks at you , suspiciously. jake just stands there because to you, that's all he's apparently good for.

as you look at all the hunters around you, sneering and snarling as their horses neigh and their hands hold on tight to their bows, you gulp.

damn, you've got lots of explaining to do.

neytiri takes him to the oloeyktan and tsahik— and you testify for him. you defend his will, his name — and by the will of Eywa, mo'at sees truth in your defense. with that, the trial is ended— and you & neytiri are placed in charge of jake.

while neytiri groans in complaint, as the person who found him— you have no choice to comply.

with that, the story flows on like the movie does— however, there are a teensy bit of difference— oh, what's that? you'd like to see those differences? okay, darlings!

you & neytiri watch as jake, once again, collapses onto the dirt after attempting to jump through the trees once more. he smiles awkwardly, trying to play it off, and you flick his forehead. you tell him, "you must try once more, jake. the sky people always says practice turns you perfect."

"well, it's practice makes perfect, but you got the gist." jake corrects, as he goes off to try again. neytiri looks at you, disappointed but not surprised. "he is hopeless." she says, you reply— "he is just emptyheaded."

☆

"na'vi." neytiri repeats, and jake is extremely confused. he's been saying it right , so why do you two keep saying he's pronouncing it wrong? "na'vi." he repeats. "na'viii." you emphasize, and jake is really on his last straw with you two. "nar'viiii." he repeats, and that earns two whacks on the head. each.

☆

seze perches herself onto the tree, and neytiri shushes jake. "do not look into her eye." you advise, and jake complies — seze roars, and that sends jake falling flat on his fucking ass. he blinks, surprised, and you — start laughing uncontrollably. he has to process this for a bit, but seconds after— you and jake are having ongoing banter while neytiri giggles at every word you two say.

☆

neytiri observes you two as you lean into jake, correcting his posture. he looks at you, and you back away on instinct— a teensy bit flustered. it is then she is consumed by thought, she's never felt these emotions before— not for you, her lifelong bestfriend — and not for jake, a demon in a false body, either. so why is she feeling shimmyflys in her belly? why do they wriggle whenever you three all interact? why do they jump at your smiles?

Eywa gives her the answer, tired by her incessant denial.

she was inlove.

so. yeah. yadayadayadayadayada jake & neytiri mate you get left in the dust but are content with seeing both of them happy together but then THEN

the war happens.

everything tumbles down. graces death— oh god, graces death hurt you so. even then, life went on.

life went on, and you thought it'd keep going on— until a bullet went through your chest. it missed the heart, but god, it went through your chest.

you cant imagine the looks on jake and neytiri's faces as you were being tended to, how jake held your right hand while neytiri held your left— how jake realized, in this moment, he loved you. how neytiri realized— she couldn't have just one mate. she needed two.

the spirit landing on her hand, and then yours, and then jakes— confirmed that.

as she looked at her mate knowingly and vice versa, they nodded at eachother.

they couldn't lose you.

you were theirs. you were always theirs.

[ SCREMAMAMSMAMMSMAS ] IM SICK OF BUILDING THE RELATIONSHIP GOD OKAY HERES SOME HEADCANONS

☆

the three of you ? head over heels for eachother. but like, subtly. you guys will show your love through forehead touches, cheek caresses, pecks to the cheek even if you're feeling a little bold. you do not openly show your affection to the clan of which you three are in charge of. you prefer to keep the love indoors, where no one can witness ( and feel single about )

neytiri smiles proudly whenever she sees you and jake, honored that she has mates as talented as you— everytime you come back from a hunt, neytiri greets you with a kiss.

neytiri , in all her gentleness , has a bite to her. when she hears your name, spat on and insulted— she sees red and feels a desperate need to protect you. and she does. she hisses at anyone who dares try and hurt you, bow in hand and fangs bared as she stands by you protectively.

she shows her love through physical means, in private you three are attached at the hip— neytiri holding you the tightest, fearing that if she loosens her grip, she may never feel your heartbeat again.

neytiri likes to braid your hair!! every chance she gets, she does. her fingers feel so good on your head— and as she does her magic, you are on cloud 9 because EYWA this woman's hands can DO things

jake, however, is an idiotic chaotic himbo man dude that happened to tame a toruk .... and go on to gather all the clans for a battle against the sky people and win that battle but yk whatever he's still an idiotic chaotic himbo man dude. whenever you kiss him, his mind just goes blank . he just goes " omg my mate my mate my mate" because he LOVES THE BOTH OF YOU SO MUCh.

jake is also very loveydovey!! he'll dance with you and neytiri in the moonlight, and you guys fly through the skys near everyday as a destresser. jake loves dates, as he loves you.

he's ready to defend your honor at any given moment. any second. he will defend you.

he's also got a nice voice and his love language is words of affirmation. yk what that means.

☆

"y/n, look at me." jake asked, you obliged— "y/n, you and neytiri are my everything. nothing could ever stop me from loving you. so don't you dare say that things would stay the same if we had never gotten into a relationship. everything would change. neytiri & I would constantly feel like something was missing, y/n." he said, and neytiri , who left open mouthed kisses on your skin— hummed in agreement. all three of your queues had connected – and as you fully processed your love, you couldn't help but get a bit emotional.

jake was a man of many, smart words. if he thought hard enough.

as you looked at jake and neytiri, both infinitely beautiful and skilled warriors— you couldn't help but realize how lucky you were.

"I love you." you said, on instinct. "I love you two , so much."

neytiri looked at you through hooded eyes, and smiled. "I love you, ma'y/n."

jake , unbelievably overwhelmed with the feeling of the bond by now— could only stutter out his response. a contrast to the usual sure and confident toruk makto: "i- I love you."

how cute.

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wyvernquill · 2 months

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I'm rewatching Anastasia and this convo would really fit in your AU

Hob: look, Murphy, I'm just trying to help Murphy: do you really think I'm an Endless, Hob?

Hob: you know I do.

Murphy: then stop bossing me around

I'm sorry, this ask is already over a year old, but I finally got around to writing a scene based on it! (Plus some Murphy&Gil bits I wanted to put in somewhere, anyway.) Hope you enjoy!

[Mild warning for contemplation of one's potential death, and having once lost the will to life - I wouldn't call it suicidal ideation, it doesn't quite go there, but I figured I'd better be safe than sorry.]

Link to Anastasia AU Masterpost!

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

“Hob.” Murphy interrupts, eyes flashing with frustration.

(Today’s how-to-be-a-Dream-Lord lessons are not going well - not that any of them have, but this one is a particular catastrophe. Gil has already given up on their contrary charge for the evening, and with the way Murphy’s shoulders are up and tension bristles between them, Hob is unlikely to make much more headway tonight.)

“Tell me. Do you truly believe I am him? The Prince of Stories? The Dream King?”

“Yes,” Hob lies, easily, unflinchingly, and with a smile on his face. A good lie has to be treated like the truth, and maybe, one day, it’ll actually turn into one. They’ve been trying so very hard to teach Murphy this, he should know it by now. “Of course.”

“Then, perhaps,” Murphy spits, and despite his feral arrogance, despite the way he holds his head high and squares his slender shoulders, it’s not the regal indignation of a King, but the helpless tantrum of an angry child who’s failing in class. “You ought to finally treat me with the fucking deference an Endless is owed, Hob Gadling!”

(There are tears in his pale-blueish eyes, Hob can see them, can hear the crack in Murphy’s hoarse voice.

Nobody has treated this man with respect in all the years he remembers, that much is obvious. Nobody but his birds. And he knows, they all know, that he’s no prince, that his blood runs red, not blue - runs at all, come to think of it. Endless don’t bleed.

But he wants to be. He wishes he was. Murphy is not Dream of the Endless, but he is ravenous for the spoils of such a role. Desperate to be respected, to be worshipped and revered, desperate to be owed the sort of treatment he has never received.

Hob ought to be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of that helpless hunger for kindness and decency… and he will be. For the rest of his immortal life, he’ll live with the shame of what he did to cheat Death, and still not regret it.)

Hob plasters a smile over his impatience and opens his mouth, gentle, calming words already on the tip of his tongue. Murphy is lonely and frightened and frustrated, that much is obvious. Fine. Hob knew it wouldn’t be easy, to teach their false Dream all he needs to know, and this is not an insurmountable roadblock. If Hob can only reassure him, earn his trust, be his friend, even, it will make everything much easier. Poor thing, lashing out like an injured animal. But Hob can surely coax him into-

Murphy recoils. Flinches back from the admittedly-half-faked warmth, his face, his entire bearing collapsing into itself like a heavy portcullis rattling shut.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, pointing one of his stick-thin fingers at Hob’s face, “don’t you DARE! I have no need for your false pity, and I want no part of it! I want-” the white of his eyes is bloodshot, and in his terror, in his fury, in his desperation, awash in unshed tears “-I want out. This deal is off. Find some other poor sucker to teach how to play Endless, I won’t do it! I’ve had enough!”

And before Hob can say as much as a single word, Murphy has snatched up his coat and slipped out onto the rainy street, Matthew following - but not after awarding Hob with a colder glare than he would’ve thought a mere raven capable of.

Murphy does not manage to flee very far.

He is in an unfamiliar town, with no money, no valuables besides the clothes on his back that are now slightly finer than he used to be; and the winter is cold and deep and stifling. He gets no further than a handful of streets until he slows halfway across a bridge, shaking with cold more than anger, snowflakes dancing around him. It is a quiet, windless night - and it has always calmed him, to stand underneath the dark sky at night, and know that most of the city lies asleep around him.

Matthew settles on the bridge’s parapet, caws. Hops closer, cocks his head to one side. There is a clear question in his bearing, a what now? glinting in his eyes. Birds are open and honest - unlike humans. Liars and hypocrites all.

“...I do not know, Matthew.” Murphy admits quietly. He has taken the coat, but forgotten the scarf in his haste, so he tugs at his collar, to keep the cold air from trickling down his spine. “I truly don’t.”

He does not have the means to return to London on his own - and at the same time, does not have much desire to do so. He had nothing and no-one there, but for the birds. Pockets can be picked anywhere - he could make a new start in this nameless town.

…if only it weren’t winter.

Murphy shivers, feeling his bones rattle with it. The night is calm, but bitterly cold, and it will not end well for him, sitting in the snow until morning. In the dark of winter, he cannot afford a night without shelter, a day without a sure way to come by some food to keep his strengths up. In London, he would have known where to go. Here, he is helpless.

Damn Hob Gadling, and may Destruction take him! Murphy will have no other choice but to crawl back to him, and hope he’ll be kept on as Endless-impersonator. Hope, because Murphy’s made a right pig’s ear of it so far, slow and clumsy to learn, and outright refusing to play at nobility. He will always be a gutter rat, Murphy knows it. They can’t fashion him into a Dream King, and perhaps this flare of temper will prove to Hob once and for all that there is no point in trying.

There is no point in trying.

Murphy gives up on his collar, and rests his hands on the parapet. Matthew caws, and presses his head against his arm, a far better reassurance than Hob’s false smiles. It comforts Murphy, at least a little. He’s not alone, never alone - no matter how lonely he might feel.

Underneath them, a foreign river flows just fast enough to avoid the freeze. The water does not reflect any stars, but the snow dancing over the surface makes it almost look as if. His own reflection wavers and breaks across the waves.

(Some nights, he dreams of a darkened shore and a sea stretching far past the horizon, black waters that fold up into the night sky, indistinguishable from each other. Of a wooden pier, and galaxies swirling underneath.

Whenever he leans out too far, the reflected eyes he meets are not his own, and he wakes with a scream lodged in his throat.)

Murphy shivers again, and savours the last remnants of his pride, before it, too, will have to be cast into the dirt and abandoned.

“I believe you forgot this, young friend.”

Murphy’s head snaps up.

Dreams and nightmares approach without a whisper, perfectly silent at night if they choose to be. Gilbert is no exception; and if Murphy were to pay attention to anything but his heart racing like a startled hare, he would perhaps be a little distressed by the fact that there are no fresh footprints in the snow beside his own.

But it’s only Gilbert, kind-eyed and not-human, holding out Murphy’s scarf like a peace offering.

Murphy does not take it.

“Did Gadling send you?” he asks, wary.

“Robert informed me what had transpired between you two.” Gilbert admits. “But rest assured, I am here on nobody’s behalf but my own - and, well, yours. Frightfully nippy tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

Murphy does not say. He trusts Gil as little as Hob, perhaps even less. A dream attempting to betray the memory of his master seems hardly like a paragon of virtue, and is perhaps even more suspicious than a deceitful human.

(He does, however, take the scarf now. It’s too cold to be stubborn, and when he winds it around his neck, it smells of sunshine on a summer meadow, warm and comforting.)

“And if you truly wish to leave… dear boy, I won’t stop you.” Murphy does not like the way Gilbert looks at him, as if trying to see someone else beneath his skin. He does not meet Murphy’s eyes, if he can help it. “In fact I would send you off with well-earned compensation for your time, and travel fare. Unless…”

Gil steps up to the parapet beside him.

“...unless I can convince you to stay…?”

“Why would you?” Murphy mutters, instead of why would I, if you’re offering to pay me off? “It should be perfectly obvious that I’ll never pass muster.”

“Ironically,” Gilbert smiles, but only at the man he pretends to see whenever he looks at Murphy, “it is well known among the former denizens of the Dreaming that His Lordship was often prone to very similar bouts of pessimism. I have faith in you, Murphy - and so does Robert Gadling. Please, do not leave. I rather doubt we will succeed without you.”

"You…" Murphy struggles with the words, the sentiment behind them lodging uncomfortably in his throat. "You have great respect, even love, for Dream of the Endless' memory. So why do you pretend? Why try to fool his siblings that I am him?"

For a moment, Gilbert seems ready to insist, as always, that Murphy is, or at least might be - but, to his credit, he does not play Murphy for a fool, in the end. Not this time. Not like Hob always, always does.

"You are quite correct. I loved His Lordship deeply, in a way that could never be understood by anyone but a dream and their creator." Gilbert sighs, his soft meadow-green eyes gazing far into the distance of better days, lined by old grief. "He made me to be the Heart of the Dreaming, and he was the Dreaming, so I knew his heart and self better than any other. The loss, when he… you cannot imagine it, young friend. I thought I would wither away and die. I thought that would be a mercy. To live as a dream in a universe that does not contain Dream of the Endless seemed entirely unthinkable, and to be quite frank, I did not think I would survive longer than a year at most in the Waking."

"I understand," says Murphy, quietly, and he does. He is no stranger to the feeling of being so untethered, only floating along with the end looming over him, death - not Death, no longer, the Endless have been cast from their domains - only biding its time.

(In the first year he can remember, Murphy did not think he would see another, either.)

"And yet, the year passed. And I lived." Gilbert smiles, faintly, taking off his glasses to polish them. "I suspect it was humanity which saved me, for all that they robbed me of my home and Lord, as well. I found… such joy, in this world. In my human form, wandering among them. Calling a few select individuals friends, even. Young Robert's companionship was a particular blessing, and I owe him more than he can ever know."

He sets the glasses back on his nose.

"Lord Morpheus is dead." Says Gilbert. Says it like fact, like something too absolute for the sort of dream-creature born of hypotheticals he is, like an unshakeable truth he has resigned himself to. His voice only barely breaks over the words. "And I shall grieve him for all the rest of my days… but I must live to mourn him. Life goes on, young friend, and we must all move along with it. And, well. I cannot speak for Robert's motivations, but the true reason why I have agreed to this mad scheme…"

Gilbert takes Murphy's freezing hands in his own. His fingertips are not lined quite right, they would not leave prints that look even remotely like those of a human - but aside from that, his grip is warm, avuncular, firm, reassuring.

"I fear that his siblings will not be able to live on without him." Gilbert confesses, quietly. "They are not made to accept change and move on from a loss as monumental as what humanity has wrought upon them. To have you… not him, not entirely, but perhaps enough… it is my most solemn hope that it might give them some form of closure at long last."

"So that's what it is?" Murphy laughs, bitterly. "Charitable concern for the well-being of personifications of abstract concepts!?"

"No." Gilbert corrects mildly. "Love. For my creator's family."

Murphy scoffs. His chest aches with it.

"What you, hmm. What you must understand, about Lord Morpheus…" Gilbert seems to be choosing his words very carefully. "...is that, for all that he was often harsh and commanding, he was so very loving, always. My Lord loved with all his self, even if he would attempt to turn a cold shoulder to the world - and I think you are much like him in temperament, young Murphy.”

Murphy does not acknowledge that. He doesn't think he can.

“He loved his family, and he loved the Dreaming, and all the beings in it. I was his heart, or near as, you must recall, I knew the truth at the core of him.

Memories or not, love as he did, and you will be a credit to his name, and a comfort to all who knew him."

(Murphy does not have it in himself to love like Dream of the Endless did. He already struggles to love at all.

But perhaps, for the sake of the entity whose memory he will dishonour, he can try.)

“So. Will you come back and resume your lessons?” Gil asks, very gently. “You may leave, now or any other time, of course you may. But it would be to your benefit, as well as to that of many others, if you did not.”

“I’ll stay,” Murphy forces out. He could blame the way his hands shake on the cold. “For now.”

“Thank you, dear child. Thank you.” This time, when Gilbert smiles, it very nearly feels like it is directed at him, after all. “Now, let’s get you out of this cold, hm? And Matthew as well.”

Murphy lets Gilbert herd him back to their inn, sits through Hob Gadling’s apology and wonders if it was sincere - he can never tell, with this infuriating man - and continues to learn as much as possible about the life of Dream of the Endless.

But he’s slowly realising, if anything will convince the Endless siblings, then it certainly won’t be the trivia. He’ll have to learn to love like the Lord of Stories, for their deception to have a snowflake’s chance in hell.

(Oh, wonderful. As if this wasn’t difficult enough already…)

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #thank you for the ask and sorry it took so long!#maybe at some point i'll go back and also write hob successfully recruiting murphy #but i was a little stuck on that so i skipped the recruitment and wrote this instead #fiddler's green's role in this au is just very interesting to dig into #deception and manipulation is not in his nature and the closest he gets to selfishness is just wanting to live a human life #so why would he agree to help hob with this scheme?#i'm quite pleased with the way i spun it - he really does it out of love and thinks it's ultimately for a good cause #and subconsciously the assurance that gil is doing it out of loyalty rather than as betrayal is very (suspiciously) important to murphy #also very light 1889 meeting parallels with hob and murphy's fight at the start!

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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OK, I'll bite: since your requests are open, may we please, with all the cherries on top, get a Dove pregnancy fic? If you have the time and energy, of course - I know your WIP list is crazy, and I'm sure you have all kinds of things going on irl too, as we all do! 😘

if your child needs a daddy, i can help

summary: you find yourself pregnant with your first kid and you and austin make room for them in your lives despite how sometimes the whole pregnancy makes you feel emotionally and physically. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m, i suppose. he does get his finger inside of her. pairing: austin butler x priscilla actress reader ( little dove verse ) word count: 2261 warnings: the normal warnings apply for this verse. daddy kink. dom/sub dynamics. brief mentions of past relationships that were not at all pleasant. anxiety. negative self talk. pregnancy kink. breeding kink. THESE WARNINGS MAKE IT SOUND MORE SMUTTY THAN IT IS. but it's actually quite fluffy. austin's just horny for his wife. referenced/implied fingering. future and past p in v sex referenced. author’s note: consider this canon for the main verse? obviously set in the future so- god maybe 2024/2025? generally speaking i loved this prompt and technically meant to keep it short or at the very least fluffy but uh- well austin's a horndog is really what happened. thank you anon for this prompt, truly, i'm really trying to get up the courage/gumption to restart actually actively writing for dove and austin and stuff like this and the asks really help more than you know. also thank you for acknowledging my crazy wip list. didn't actually think i'd write this as quick as i did, and truly i meant to have it up on mother's day when i realized how quick i was writing it but this past weekend. lord she was a doozy in my work real life. anyway i hope you like it and anyone who actually wants to be tagged for this verse, either hit me up in my ask box or my dms or someway. i didn't do my normal austin tag list for this because i know this verse has been known to occasionally bother some people and i don't want to put it in your face if you don't want to read it, you know?

It happens- as all things do with you and Austin- quickly. It comes within the two months of you telling Austin you want to make Austin a real Daddy. A daddy who can hold his child and rock it and sing it little lullabies until it grows up to be and strong like their parents. You'd think since you're a grown woman and a surprising amount of your life has become regimented in ways it wasn't after dating and then marrying Austin that you wouldn't miss your period and not notice. You wouldn't miss it one month, two months and only realize something's strange when you go to visit Austin to see his show and hiss and practically yelp in pain when he presses up against your chest. They were bigger but they always got a little bigger around your period, it was fine. But then Austin is murmuring in your ear and pressing his hand against your stomach where he can feel a firmness where there wasn't one before.

"Are you pregnant?"

That's a weird question to ask, you're due for your period any day now, you think, thinking that you're close enough to the beginning of the next month that you're due for one soon. Not that it'll be your third missed period in a row. You shake your head, "no, I'm due for it next week, I think."

Austin raises an eyebrow and presses against the firm spot, waiting for it to give only to realize it's staying firm, there's something there. "When was your last one, Dove?"

You open your mouth to answer once, twice, three times before you look down at his hand against your stomach and see how your breasts are practically spilling out of your bra and you let out a noise of delight and shock rolled into one. Your voice is soft when you answer him finally. "I don't remember."

The squeal of delight you let out and the way Austin laughs and laughs and laughs twirling you around before setting you back down so he can kiss your belly is something the cast talks about for the next week or two.

It's a flurry to try and get things rescheduled, have projects pushed back or dropped all together as your belly starts to curve outward, becoming harder and harder to hide as the weeks go by. You and Austin had made an agreement to not announce a single thing before 12 weeks. It wasn't a guarantee nothing would go wrong but it put you in a safer territory than you would be if you announced earlier. Austin argues every so often that you shouldn't make an announcement, not because he doesn't want people to know but because he's so fiercely protective over your private life with him beyond what the two of you have to show that exposing your child to this nonsense fills him with dread. He worries about the judgment he figures you'll get over having a baby like this. Worries about how if you want to book something short that people may look at your belly and realize that it's not worth it. Maxwell and Simon, your agents and managers and pseudo dads rolled into one promise to get you just one more thing even if you'll have an obvious belly for them because they care about you and your career almost if not more than Austin does.

You tell him- no, you explain to him that you can't do that, you can't go into hiding because you're pregnant. You want to be able to tell the world that you're carrying his baby, that your belly is growing because you told him you wanted a baby. This baby may not be their child, but they're your fans and what would you be without your fans? No, you have to announce it so that you can finally stop hiding in oversized hoodies and dresses tailored to hide your bump. Besides, you've been known to read the gossip blogs and the magazines while waiting for your doctor's appointments. You know very well there's theories as to what's going on and how people find it suspicious you've gone from full body shots on instagram to above the waist shots. There's theories about why you had to drop out of a film that you'd be filming while nine months pregnant and ready to pop if you did. This is the only real way to put them to rest.

"Looking forward to this little one and I having many more mother's days to come. Your daddy and I can't wait to meet you." is the caption you go with on Mother's day with Austin's hands and your hands on your stomach. The comments make you cry though if Austin asks you're only crying because of the hormones. Not because of your little Elvis family bombarding your comments with congratulations or the way any negative comments get overwhelmed by happier comments. Even Kaia and Vanessa say congratulations and you feel something in your chest loosen at the knowledge. You feel the fear that had gripped your heart deep down that whispered how you'd have to hide this pregnancy like you hide your submission to Austin- like you hid your relationships with your other doms- disintegrate and evaporate into thin air.

Austin knows the second he sees your smile and sees your response to a few messages that he's doomed, he's lost the fight of getting you to remain a little more private about the pregnancy. Truthfully he's just thankful you agree with him that the two of you are going to try your absolute hardest to keep the baby themselves out of the limelight. And - as he murmurs, cupping your growing bump one night- their three siblings. Your feed is split between promoting your new project, random other things you'd do and posts about your growing bump, your occasional sickness and how pregnancy isn't really all it's cracked up to be even when you want a baby.

It comes to a head one day when you're seven months pregnant with your big long baby that Austin felt the need to gift you with all his height genes and you're posting something about how this week has just been rough.

"I'm not speaking for everyone, obviously, and all you infertility moms can tell me I'm wrong, but for me- I'm- society gives us all some rose tinted glasses when it comes to pregnancy and from what some of you guys have told me, motherhood." You sigh, wincing as your daughter kicks your rib cage and does this somersault that has your stomach rolling and twisting. "I want more kids but- this hurts. This hurts and I feel huge and I can't breathe sometimes because they're pressing on everything and I know you guys have seen the pap photos, I can't even really hug Austin right any more."

Austin for his part knows better than to interrupt when he hears you talking to yourself and despite his better judgment waits outside your shared bedroom door until he hears words that stop his heart.

"It's selfish, I guess, but I worry sometimes that he doesn't- he isn't going to like me nearly as much when the baby comes out. We've all heard about how guys do that and Austin's but- I don't know. I'm being melancholy and that's not what you signed up for today." You lift up your shirt to show your bump as your daughter does another roll that you manage to catch on camera. "I guess they wanted to show off at the expense of mommy. You are definitely your father's kid."

When it's been silent for a few minutes and he hears you grunt in pain he finally walks inside the room to see you standing in front of the mirror, cupping your bump before running your hands over your chest. There's a part of him in the back of his head that finds the action arousing beyond belief but he sees the look on your face and sees how you're playing with your necklace as the hand that was on your breast moves up. You're so engrossed in looking at your body and allowing your mind to whisper things to you that you don't notice Austin until he's up behind you and his hands are lifting up your belly just so.

"Oh, Aus- Fuck, Daddy, keep your hands there." You moan, the relief palpable in your tone. "That feels so good, she's been-"

"Growing too fast and too big for my little Dove?" Austin's tone is light and playful has he kisses your neck, watching the two of you in the mirror. "The joys of having me as the other half of the genes. Two more months and then she's out of you and you're free until the next one."

Your jaw tenses just a little at the words. It's not that you don't want another baby but who's truly to say he's going to want you enough to make one. The silence after his joke is what makes Austin pause and has him kissing at your jaw. "What's wrong?"

Because something is wrong and you have to communicate with him, if you need something you need to tell him, that's always been the rule in your relationship. A sigh leaves your lips. "There's- you're not going to find me attractive-" you pause and try to take a breath before the first thought that comes to your mind leaves your mouth in a rush. "Elvis didn't like Priscilla after she had Lisa."

Austin drops your belly gently against your protests and turns you to face him while shaking his head, taking your head in his hands. "Dove. Don't- we're not them, remember?"

"I know that!" You practically whine before rubbing at your eyes that are quickly filling with tears. "I know we're not! I know you're Austin and I'm me but I look and feel like a beached whale and my boobs are huge and will probably sag everywhere-"

Austin places his finger on your lips before shaking his head. "I'm going to stop you right there and tell you to look down." He watches you as your eyes slide down his torso and stop between his legs. He's- he's hard just from looking at you and touching you. There's his arousal staring you in the face in his grey sweatpants and you can't help but bite your lip. It twitches a little.

"You're- Daddy."

"I'm hard. You know how I've been the bigger you get. I thought you were attractive before but carrying my baby? Watching your belly swell and seeing your boobs escape every bra you put them in? Dove, if my dick had it's way you'd be pregnant every second you could be." He murmurs, allowing his hands to slide down your neck to your chest where he gives your breasts and nipples a squeeze before sliding down to your stomach. "And when this belly is gone? When our daughter is suckling at your chest? I'm going to remember that you did this. Going to remember how my wife grew our daughter and is feeding her from her own body still. I'm going to know that you're strong and perfect. And I'm going to remind myself we have a baby schedule to stick to. That I can't just immediately put another one inside of you."

His words cause a shudder to ripple through you and Austin smirks just a little, moving his hands down lower and lower, "Dove, if I put my hand between your legs how wet is it going to get?"

You feel your breath shakily leave your mouth. "Soaked. Please, Austin-"

A kiss cuts off your words as Austin's hand slides in between your leggings and your skin, inching ever so closer to where he's ignited a fire. He pulls away just a hair and shakes his head. "Try again, lil Dove. Please who?"

The eyeroll you give him holds no malice but you can't help it even as your arousal threatens to overwhelm you. "Daddy, please."

"I'll always give my Dove what she needs," he murmurs, finally sliding his fingers inside of you with a low groan from both of you.

It's funny how after that night your sex life with Austin up until the end of your pregnancy became a little more intense. More frequent as if to reassure you any time the voice inside your head got too loud and any time every trick your therapists taught you failed. Austin loved you and there wasn't a single doubt about that. Even if there was, the way he was by your side throughout your labor with your daughter would have done away with any doubts. There wasn't much more you could ask for in a partner than what he did for you that day and what he does for you as you recover.

It's a week before any of you are ready to take a picture but you're thankful for Ashley recommending a good photographer for the newborn pictures despite Austin's protests that he could take his own. After all, you wanted him in some of them, and you didn't trust an autotaken picture for this. When it comes time for Austin to post that your daughter's been born he goes for a simple picture that shows your hand on top of Austin's and Loretta's on yours with a simple caption: isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful.

He saves the other photos for you to post.

#austin butler #austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #little dove series #dove series #you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue #ally writes #also surprise me posting two fics in one day!!

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eddiemunsonswhxre · 2 years

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Hey there! I love your writing! Would you mind writing an Eddie x reader in which he's self conscious about where he lives and maybe they have been dating for a couple of months so he's getting anxious because he knows that sooner or later she will ask him about it? And she reassures him ofc 😊

kinda changed it up a little bit but here's a little fluff for ya :)

promises and insecurity / eddie munson

masterlist

one shot

cw: fluff, insecure eddie, ending kind of alludes to sex but not really??

you finally convince eddie to show you his home

"babe?" you ask, twirling a bit of eddie's hair around your finger as you sat on his lap at lunch. eddie chews the bite of the sandwich he had just taken. it was a great sandwich, by the way. especially because you made it for him.

he sets the sandwich down and places his now free hand on your thigh, the other wrapped around your back to hold you on his lap. "what's up?" he asks, licking his lips.

you reach up your thumb to wipe away some crumbs from the corner of his mouth and he blushes. "can we hang out after school?" you ask, giggling lightly at his flushed cheeks.

eddie furrows his eyebrows and thinks for a moment. "isn't it tuesday? your mom's book club is today," he questions, knowing that your mom's only rule was that he couldn't visit during book club. your mom loved him, and it wasn't because she was ashamed that he was dating her only child, she just took book club very seriously.

you nod, your hand falling back to your lap. "i thought we could go to your house," you shrug, picking up a piece of strawberry and popping it in your mouth. eddie freezes underneath you, his chest growing tight. he knew you'd keep pressing this but he wanted to put it off as long as he could. he didn't want you to think differently of him when you saw the shitty trailer he lived in.

you notice his discomfort and frown. "uh, maybe we can hang out tomorrow. my house is- it's a mess," he tries to deflect. he wouldn't let you come over tomorrow either. you move your hand from curling his hair around it to stroking it down. you've been dating for three months now and you'd never been to his house. you knew where he lived, and honestly you couldn't care less. you worried maybe he was hiding something from you sometimes. but after rationalizing and realizing he's not like that you realized he was just worried about your judgement.

this wasn't something you wanted to bring up in front of his friends (who were trying to tune you out anyway because the sweetness made them sick) so you just patted his head and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "we'll talk later," you whispered before pulling away. eddie looked at you with wide eyes, biting on his lower lip. he didn't want to talk about it later. "eat the rest of your sandwich," you mumbled with a small smile, handing it back to him. he was quiet for the rest of lunch, thinking about how to avoid the conversation further.

sadly, he wasn't able to avoid it. after school you were leaned against the driver's side door of his van, patiently waiting for him to get there. he cursed when he saw you there, but plastered a fake smile on his face as he approached. "hey, darling," he cooed, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for a chaste kiss.

you kissed him back, but pulled away before he could distract you. "are you gonna tell me what's up?" you ask, looking up at him seriously.

eddie chuckles nervously, massaging your hip with his thumb. "i don't know what you mean, y/n," he dismisses, trying his best to put up a front.

he hates that you can see through him so easily. you sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. "eddie, i'd have to be blind and stupid to not see this is bothering you. just tell me what's going on in that big head of yours," you say, thumping his forehead.

"hey," he whines, swatting your hand away. you laugh lightly before going back to being serious. he realizes you're still waiting for a response and sighs. "i just don't want you to see my messy house, is that such a problem?" he murmurs insecurely, looking down.

you shake your head at his excuse, he should understand you'll see right through any lie he says. "you've literally been in my room when i was sick and it looked a disaster. you helped my mom clean a puke stain out of my carpet, i thought we'd passed this stage," you explain.

he looks up at you with brows furrowed. "what stage?" he asks nervously, scanning your eyes.

"the one where we keep things from each other. i know you're nervous, babe, but you should trust me. i'm not gonna think bad about you or judge you based on where you live or how your house looks. the fact that you live in a trailer and it might be a bit messy isn't gonna change how much i care about you," you explain and eddie feels guilt flood him. he didn't want you to feel like he didn't trust you. he also wants to cry a little bit at your words, but he couldn't shake this insecure feeling.

he willed back the small sting in the back of his eyes before responding. "i do trust you, it's just... you live in such a nice house and you're like a really clean person and i just, i feel like if you see it you'll realize i'm not up to your standards," he admits.

you shrug your backpack off your shoulder and wrap you arms around his middle. "you exceed my standards, babe. you're perfect. i don't give a shit if you're homeless, you're still my boyfriend," you promise, stroking his back as he rests his head on top of yours.

he bites his lip as he thinks for a moment, holding you tightly. "will your mom care if you come over?" he asks quietly.

you chuckle softly at him. "i already told her we'd be hanging out, and she loves you so no," you say, pulling back to look up into his eyes.

"okay, fine. but please promise you won't judge me," he mumbles insecurely. you pout and stand on your toes to peck his lips.

"i won't, baby, promise," you say and he nods. the two of you get into his van and he drives you back to his home. his nerves are on fire the whole drive only heightening when he pulled into the trailer park. when he puts the van in park he stays there for a second, trying to calm the mess of nerves in his stomach. you reach over and place your hand on his fidgeting one. you give him a reassuring nod and then the both of you are climbing out of the van.

he fumbles with his keys as you stand behind him, looking around. this place was definitely something. "sorry," he mumbles, finally sticking the key in the lock and turning it. "uh my uncle is at work so it's just us," he says, slowly pushing the door open. he hesitantly steps inside, you following and shutting the door behind you.

eddie begins rushing around trying to put dishes in the sink and clean off his counters as his cheeks flare in embarrassment. "eddie," you call out, causing him to look up at you. "stop trying to clean, silly. it's not even that messy, just normal house clutter," you reassure him, walking into his kitchen where he stood at the counter. he set down the plate he was moving and looked at you sheepishly. "you're cute when you're nervous, but stop, you have no reason to be," you push his hair back.

"you promise?" he asks and you nod, kissing his cheek.

"so you gonna give me a tour or what?" you giggle, grabbing his hands in your own.

he smiles, still nervous of course but it slightly subsiding. he shows you around, taking you to his room last. you laugh when he leads you in causing him to freeze up. "this is exactly what i pictured," you snorted, walking towards his wall that was plastered in posters of half naked girls and bands. he calmed down a little and watched you observe the wall. "why am i not up here?" you jokingly pout, turning to him and crossing your arms.

he furrows his eyebrows in amusement. "you want a half naked picture of you on my wall?" he jokes, walking towards you with a playful smirk on his face.

you look up to the ceiling as you fake thinking. when he reaches you, you finally look back to him. "or fully naked, wanna be special," you shrug matter-of-factly causing his eyes to widen.

the smirk on his face turns into a wide smile as he grabs onto you, pulling you flush against his chest. "oh, you're special alright," he says, causing you to giggle. it's soon muffled by a kiss, and all of eddie's worries melt away. he can't believe he'd been so worried about this for so long.

#stranger things eddie #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #fluff #stranger things fluff #cuteness

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memory-and-sky · 6 months

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hey if youre still doing writing requests, could you do hobie helping ftm!reader with dysphoria? maybe helping him fix his hair in a more masc way or helping him voice train

thank you so much for this ask, anon! i love this so so so much :3 i tried my best, i hope you like it!!

word count: ~1.6k

containing: swearing, user is transmasc/ftm, user has dysphoria, hobie is literally the sweetest, i don’t really know how to voice train even though i am transmasc myself xp

the rest of the fic is under the cut!

dysphoria fucking sucks. hobie x ftm!reader

You were rotting away in bed again. Jesus, dysphoria was really kicking your fucking ass. You rolled over, checking the time on your phone. 11:06 AM.

The bedsheets were all hot, as it was a warm, humid day today. You'd been overheating like a dog for awhile now, but you had no real reason to get up.

Until, all of a sudden, you heard a window open, and boots walking in your living room. It was definitely—

"Oi-oi, love? Where are ya?" Hobie.

You quickly jumped up, pulling over a hoodie and pajama pants; your go-to dysphoria outfit, and greet him.

His gaze caught on you, and he looked confused. "Mate, are ya really wearin' tha' in this bloody heat? Yer gonna boil to death, hun." He walked over to you, and ruffled your too-long hair.

"Um.. yeah. I dunno, I kinda don't feel the best right now.. I feel pretty gross," You shoved your hands in the hoodie pocket, already sweating buckets under it.

"Well, yer hair is gettin' t' be quite long, mate. Wouldn't mind cuttin' it, y'know." He began to take his boots off. "'N I'd be plenty chuffed t'help ya with tha'. Jus'... take tha' shit off, love, 's too bloody hot to be doin' allat,"

You shake your head. "I-... I have.. pretty bad dysphoria today. I don't want to see my... my body."

Ah. Yeah, Hobie understands what's happening now. "I see, hun. Why don'tcha wear 'n oversized tee, and them shorts I gave ya?" He asks, crouching down to meet your eye level, offering a lopsided smile. "Go, mate. Be quick, yeah?" Hobie firmly pat your shoulder as you went to your room to change.

When you came back, Hobie put his closed fist out for a fist bump. You gave him one, and he grinned down at you, putting both his thumbs in the front belt loops of his pants.

"Ya look wonderfully masculine, love,"

"I don't feel like it." You sighed, looking down at your feet.

A shiver ran through your body as Hobie held your chin, and angled your face upwards. "Look at me, swee'heart." He examined your face. You were miserable in your own body, tired of feeling like a girl. "Tell ya what, love. We'll chop at ya hair, 'n I think I know a few tricks t'get ya voice soundin' deeper."

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. "You do..?"

"Sure do, mate! Had plenty 'a trans bloke mates, even now," Hobie let go of your chin. "Ya still 'ave them scissors I gifted ya, don'tcha?"

You nodded. "In my bathroom."

"Let's go there then, yeah? Ya ready t' feel abso-fuckin'-lutely han'some?" He pat you on the back, still grinning.

You attempted to hold back a big smile, nodding. "Yeah,"

Hobie patted the cold countertop after he finished getting your hair adequately wet in your sink, his rings clinking and making a nice sound on the porcelain. "Siddown, mate. With yer back facin' the sink,"

As you sat on the counter, he rummaged through a few drawers, grabbing the trimming, layering, and normal scissors. "Oh, my good sir, what would you like? 'M at yer service," He bowed to you teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Whatever. Uh.. I dunno, somethin' that makes me look like a boy. Like myself. I definitely want it shorter," You looked over at Hobie, as he evaluated what would suit you best.

From your perspective, now, he was suddenly getting suuuuper fuckin' close to your face, and messing with your hair. You were surely beet red by now.

"Aight, doll, think I know wha' I needa do for ya," He finally backed up, softly chuckling at your flustered demeanour. Then, he grabbed a towel from over the shower rod, and wrapped it around your shoulders, so that hair wouldn't go down your shirt. "Hold righ' here, love,"

So you obeyed, and held the towel in place.

"Good boy. Let's see, now, hmm..."

You felt like you were going to explode. 'Good boy'? When had you ever seen Hobie call anyone a good boy?! Before you even had time to fully process that, he was getting close to your face again.

Hobie began to chop at your overgrown hair with the normal scissors, cutting big chunks of your hair and moving your head around a bunch as you fidgeted. But god, you couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so attractive when he was deeply concentrated, you couldn't deny it. Well, he always looked attractive, and confident... so effortlessly.

Hobie gave you serious debilitating gender envy, in addition to you maybe having a little tiny crush on him. You wanted to be like him so bad it hurt.

"D'you mind turnin' around fo' me? Needa cut the back of yer hair now," Hobie snapped you out of your daze after several minutes of him chopping off your hair.

"O-okay."

"Somethin' wrong, love? Ya seem kinda ou' of it.." A sweet, lopsided smile spread across his gorgeous face, and he tilted his head slightly.

You shake your head. "I'm just.. I dunno. I'm happy that I'm finally getting a haircut again. I really feel like a girl with all of this hair, 'n.. this was long needed. And I'm tired,"

Hobie chuckled softly as you turned to sit criss-cross on the counter, back facing him. "I feel ya, mate. Jus'... yer not a girl, 'kay? You've never looked like a girl t'me, 'n ya never will, yeah?" He began cutting your hair, combing and messing around with it. "I love how ya look 'n present yourself. Yer so confident in yer style, ya look real peng, y'know."

"Yeah...?" You blushed furiously, so thankful that your back was turned to him at the moment.

"Yeah, mate."

It didn't take Hobie too long before he finished cutting your hair, and thinning the ends out with the layering scissors.

"Turn around, love," He ruffles your hair as you turn around, now leaning in close to your face to fix your hair up all nice. He grinned down at you. "Ya look proper han'some. 'Ere, c'mon down. Look in tha' mirror fo' me."

So you hopped down, and evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt euphoric, and just really happy with your new haircut.

Hobie placed both his hands on your shoulders, leaning over so that his head was next to yours. "You happy with it?"

"Mhm! Thank you so much, Hobie,"

"Say ya look han'some. I wanna hear ya say it." He smiled his lopsided smile.

"I... isn't it a bit vain? Selfish?"

Hobie shook his head, standing back up to his full height to stretch. "Confidence ain't vain. It's quite alrigh' to be sickeningly confident in yerself, y'know. I am. C'mon, swee'heart, say it,"

"I... I look handsome..." You clearly didn't believe those words, evident from you looking down at your feet, and mumbling.

"Like ya believe it. Look yerself in the mirror, 'n say it, nice 'n loud fo' me,"

You groan. "Hobes—"

"(Y/n). C'moooonnn~" He shook you lightly, holding onto your shoulders.

"U-um... I look handsome..." You sighed, smiling despite yourself at Hobie's adorable excitement.

"Tha's more like it. Gooood boy," Hobie giggled like a little girl as he patted your back reassuringly. "Still wanna learn how t'make yer voice a pinch deeper?"

"Yeah, of course I do,"

Hobie smirked. "Aight, let's sit somewhere more comfortable then, yeah?" He gestured for you to exit before him, turning off the light after you both left.

As you both sat down, Hobie was manspreading. You took notice of this, and mirrored him.

"Y'know how t'make yer voice deeper, yeah? Tha's pretty easy," He smiled, and demonstrated it for you.

"Jesus! That's unnatural," you giggle, but test it out a little.

"Yeah! Yeah, you got it. Okay, so keep tha' in mind. How you do that wit' yer throat. Don't force it too much, don't make yer voice too unnaturally deep, kay?"

"Okay..."

"Make yer pitch a bit more... monotone. Keep a plain, calm, controlled pitch, yeah?" He grins down at you, leaning in a little bit too close for a 'normal' distance for friends as he put his hands gently on your shoulders.

"How does this sound..?" You mumble, embarrassed.

Hobie grabbed your hand with both his hands, genuinely happy for you. "Yeah! Bloody perfect, mate! Awe, lookit you! Such a natural. A li'l louder f'me?"

"I sound stupid." You took your hand out of his grasp, groaning as you ran your hands down your face.

"Honey, no... you don' sound stupid at all." He gently touched your hand. "Sorry. Can I use 'honey'? Anyways, mate, you'll get the hang of it eventually. Ya don' have to use it righ' away, but... keep it in that noggin of yers, yeah?"

Hobie teasingly poked your forehead, and you couldn't help but smile, looking up into his big brown eyes, messily lined with black eyeliner.

"You, um... you can use honey. Whatever. Thanks, Hobie. I mean... yeah. I appreciate it a lot," You suddenly avoided his gaze, looking at the details and patches on his pants.

He smiled as he saw your eyes avoiding his.

“Awh. ‘n I’m happy t’do it for ya!” Hobie patted your shoulder firmly. “Yer perfectly masculine love, ‘n don’t you forget it,”

You smiled despite yourself at Hobie’s kindness towards you. How he was so caring towards you, no matter what. When you had came out to him, you’d been so fucking scared, and now… you really only felt completely safe with him. You could tell him anything, and even things you didn’t tell him, he’d gently coax what was wrong out of you with his stupid charm and tender personality.

Though he was sarcastic and cocky most of the time, Hobie could be really kind and gentle... which he definitely was with you, when you needed it.

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steddie-thirst · 2 years

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You Can Run | Mean!Steddie x Henderson!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: Steve and Eddie can agree on one thing an that's you. Things heat up when they decide to work together in achieving their goal.

Warnings: stalking, killing, 18+, ghostface, micheal, kidnapping, explicit themes, steddie being a good duo, ghostface calls, Stalker!eddie, Mean!Steve

(( Update note: Because I no longer like writing Y/N for the name thing, I have decided to name my reader Belle, but this still an x reader, but the name Belle is used in place.))

After the rather odd phone call and a quick breath of fresh air it was time for bed. That was enough excitement for one day, already finding school tiring enough. Adding creepy stalkers to the list was not helping. However, when you reached the first step the phone rang once more. Darn - You turned on your heels and pad back into the kitchen snatching the device off its stand. "Hello? Henderson, residence."

"Well, Hello -- Again." Same cadence, still altered, and much more excited than last time, judging by the small hitch in his breath.

You decide to play along into the mystery caller's game, tilting your head as you keep up with the sweet tone. "Ooh , so you do remember me." You coo into the receiver voice thick like honey.

He chuckles, "Mhm." His voice hums. "Couldn't forget a pretty voice like yours." Enjoying the way it left a surge of chills down your spine.

"You remember all the girls you talk to, huh?" Questioning him earns another breathy laugh, making you bite your bottom lip. He surely knew how to work a girl - Goodness.

"No, just the ones I plan on asking out." The stranger replied and you giggled. "What? You don't let guys ask you out?"

"Not recently. Have had my eye on this one guy though." Shamefully admitting your deepest and darkest secrets seemed harmless. He didn't know you or you him. So what was the danger? A little honest flirting and some sweet words wouldn't be that much of a bother.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, but he's not so into me I think." He clicks his tongue and you sigh with a slump of your shoulders.

"Wanna tell me his name, sweetheart?" He urges, practically on the edge of his seat, awaiting your answer. Maybe things would take a turn for the better.

"Eddie. He's just such a nice guy and -- and he's helped my brother so much - God - Then there's Steve. I sound like such a whore, b-but I really like them both." You stammer now really unsure of who to choose. One the one hand Eddie was funny, chivalrous, and kind hearted. The total opposite of the sweet, lively, and popular Steve. Two sides on one coin, but couldn't make of whether you wanted heads or tails. It was crazy, laughing at the uncertainty of it all.

"Well, Belle, seems you have a big choice ahead of you." As the words leave him sure of the reaction he'd receive. You fall silent instantly as his name falls from his lips.

"W-Wait - My name - How'd you know my name?" Things had taken a turn for the worse at this point and he chuckles, dark, and unforgiving.

"Because, sweetheart-" He lowers his voice, goosebumps spreading on your arms, as he speaks, "- I've been watching you this whole time. Now, if I was you I'd find a place to hide." You slam the phone down onto the stand and straighten your spine. Eyeing both kitchen entrances' slowly, gulping down the lump of fear that sat in your throat. Lip quivering as you bravely round the counter towards the left doorway. Briefly glancing at the pantry door when a muffled sound, unidentifiable, but loud enough to keep you worried. Keeping your hand rested on the counter as you slowly pad past the door.

The living-room was a quick shot from the kitchen, only having to make it past there in order to reach your front porch. As soon as you walked through that doorway a figure burst from the pantry. You whirl around a scream ripping through your throat, lungs burning from the sheer force of it. Immediately taking off towards the front door as the ghostly stranger chases after you.

"Shit! Shit!" You curse dodging the coffee table, only for him to step on top the surface and jump down on you. Tackling you down to the ground carpet biting into your back, bare legs and arms. You try to crawl away from him, but to no use. Suddenly gaining a brief moment of courage, you rear your leg back and kick him straight between his legs. The stranger falls back groaning in pain the knife clattering to the floor as he recovers from the sheer pain. You push up off the ground despite the weakness crying out from your overworked joints and run to the door.

Fingers working the locks, before flinging the door open. Only to be met face to face with a white mask, blue jumpsuit, and a large butcher knife. You quickly spin on your heels to run the other direction, but are cut off by Ghostface. Backing up into the other figure who quickly grabs ahold of you. One arm wrapped securely around your waist and the other over your chest. His muscles tensed holding you in place as the blade pressed ever so gently against your cheek. Your fingers dig into his arm clawing and pleading to be let go.

"Thank you, she would have gotten away." The ghostly stranger groaned reaching down to retrieve the lost hunting knife and sighed as he straightens back up. Revealing in the quiet sobs the racked through you. His voice - It sounded so familiar.

"W-Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He waves the knife around dramatically dropping his shoulders as you watch every move he makes. "You wanna go first big boy?" Ghostface steps closer to the brooding figure that had you restrained only receiving a grunt in response. "Guess that's a ye-Excuse me -- And viola!" He pulls the mask off and you crane your head back to eye the - not so stranger - as his hazel irises stare back down at your shaking figure.

Your heart shatters as his name passes your lips, "S-Steve..?" There's no mistaken that floppy chestnut-brown hair and those soft lips.

"Surprise!" Ghostface sings with a dramatic wave of his hands.

"Steve, why?" You whine, looking back at a guy you once trusted. Having delved into your most deepest secrets knowing he'd be there to listen and lend a hand. It just doesn't make any sense. Why would such a guy chose to do this and to someone who you'd been nothing short of nice to. Steve was your friend and deepest crush.

"Aww, she's scared." Ghostface coos watching your breath catch in your throat as you turn to look back at him. Steve laughs from behind you, chest vibrating against your back and he sighs.

"I know, it's addicting. I cannot wait to see how she reacts to you, baby." Steve speaks softly from behind you. Ghostface tilts his head watching you carefully, before reaching a gloved hand to pull back his hood, then removing his mask allowing it to clatter to the floor. Your whole body goes week as your eyes fall on those familiar features. Steve hauls you up against him, keeping you from falling down. Dark curls, a cheeky smile, and soft brown eyes.

"Surprise, sweetheart. Not what you expected huh?" His voice is cocky as he swaggers over to you. His hand raises the knife to your other cheek, licking his lips as he eyes you.

"E-Eddie?" Your bravado falters. To close to be a dream seeing as he was standing right there in front of you. His lips quirk into a sly smirk, as he takes in a deep breath, eyes looking you over.

"Say my name again, princess." Eddie demands pressing the curve of the blade deeper.

"E-Eddie plea-"

"Ah." He chides pressing it deeper earning a pitiful sob. "Again." He demands eyes flitting up to spare a glance at Steve. His lips twitching into a smile as you practically shake beneath them.

"Eddie, please stop.. you're scaring m-"

"Good." He growls at you, trailing the tip of the blade down the curve of your jaw, along your neckline, enjoying the way your throat bobs against his knife. Oh, you were a fucking prize. "I've been thinking day and night about you, Belle." He admits eyeing the dips of your breasts, hidden behind your pink tank-top. "Then you went and admitted your little crush - Fuck - I almost jumped on you then."

"Please don't kill me." You plead with Eddie small drops of salty tears drip down your cheeks, eyes glassy with them as you look up at the guitarist. He wasn't the same anymore. Those once bright eyes now filled with something dark.

"We aren't going to kill you, baby." Steve reassures you going to tuck his knife away knowing Eddie still had a grip on his own if you tried anything. You were a bit relieved, but it dropped. Heart dropping down to your stomach as Eddie spoke again face dangerously close to yours.

"We're gonna keep you. Steve." The larger male lifted you off the ground and slung your small figure over his shoulder albeit effortlessly. A cry leaves your lips as your hands come down on his shoulder blades, "She's feisty." Eddie chuckles, watching you struggle, squirm, and fight against Steve as he drags you out the door on his shoulder. One arm tucked over the curve of your knees and the other on the small of her back.

Eddie's pride flies out the window when you open your mouth, "Help me! Somebo-" He clamps his palm over your parted lips and a quiet whimper leaves you, hands clawing at his wrist as his nails dig into the skin of your cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up or I will hurt you, sweetheart." He threatens. "Got it?" You nod and he sighs relieved moving his hand away, only to brush his knuckle over your reddened cheeks. Only able to let out pitiful sobs and soft whimpers, "Good girl. You'll learn soon enough."

"You belong to us now." Steve chimed in as they reach his car, Eddie eagerly flinging open the trunk and he dumps you inside.

"Both of us." He shuts the trunk with a slam and you burst out into a full sob, crying out, but muffled by the layered metal of the BMW. No one heard you nor would help be coming. Eddie and Steve had you in their grasp and they were never going to let you got.

Not now.

Not ever...

TAGLIST:

@yaspillz @st-ls @munsonloverblog @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @shyposttree @damon-loves-pie @fanficfanatic204 @positivevibesnlif3 @beebslebobs @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @marianita195 @b-barnes04 @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @buchanansbaby @rollergirlworld @allithewriter @555stargirl555

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hollyhomburg · 11 months

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It is June finally, summer polishing it's restless claws, and you are dying.

You didn't love me at first, and i was alright with that. i remember back when there were bunkbeds in the middle room, and you'd sit on top where my sister slept, how i'd climb up the ladder just to look at you. you where always so good, so quieht and invisible when you'd hunt in the autumn leaves, delicate paws that have now started to curl with arthritis and age.

i remember the first time you bit me and i didn't tell mom, because i thought she'd get mad at you and think you weren’t worth petting, and I didn’t want her not to touch you.

she didn't get mad. But she did notice my bloody hand clutched to my chest. “It’s not that bad,” It was never too bad, for me to keep trying with you. you've lived in my house for 21 years now.

i wish you'd let me clip your claws, but somehow that feels like something you wouldn't want on principle. You were always so quick to use them whenever someone reached down to pet you that you didn't like. hissing and biting were your language the way you told my family and me /no/ before i had the experience to know how important that was. How essential it was to say the word /no/.

I learned. Oh, how I /learned/ from you.

My family likes to joke that i'm still the only one out of them that knows how to set healthy boundaries, i can't have learned it from my parents. The way i see it, it has to be from you. You taught me how to fight tooth and claw for what i know i need. You taught me that there is always room to be loved better, always a reason to teach the people who love you how to love you in ways that won't hurt.

and although it hurts now, i think it's just because the love i have for you has no were to go, now that i know that you're dying.

i still remember the first night you really /asked/ me to pet you. the first time you asked for more than the occasional chin rub (those are still your favorite) i was 16, and spending alot of time in my room because the stalking had gotten particularly bad. you were always in my room too- because it was always soft and quiet- the same room i write from now. where underneath you are dying beneath the porch (i won't be cruel and try to move you if thats where you've chosen to rest, i know how to respect what you want now, you taught me so well!).

The same room you died in, because you couldn’t stand it, how I kept trying to bring you back to my room.

The first time i pet you because you wanted it, i had a bottle of benedryl and two bottles of advil on my bedside table and i knew that taking them would make my organs fail. God, i was sitting on the edge of that single bed and sobbing. Ready to go. Ready to end it,

And then you started circling my heals and /meowing/ at me. the cat who never wanted to be touched hopped up on my bed, wormed its way between my knees and started nudging at my hands and purring. begging for touches that i barely knew how to give.

i was sobbing too hard to see, but i could feel you purring against my fingertips. Maybe you knew, animals have a 6th sense about things. but i don't think i knew how much i needed to not feel alone right then. i think you stopped me from taking them, i don't know if it would have killed me.

You stopped purring 3 days ago.

I’m convinced You saved my life regardless, it’s a pity that there’s nothing I can do to save yours now.

i didn't feel alone after that, and i suspect i won't feel alone until your body is cold and you're gone. i suspect it will be hours now, i'll check on you again before i go to sleep and once more before that, after i'm done writing this.

later in life, you got softer. kinder, less likely to swat and attack, i think maybe you realized that you actually liked me a little or at the very least you knew i was hurting and needed love too. We made up for lost time you and I.

i started to pet you a little longer, even though you were hairy and thick furred and tended to get orange hair on everything. in the winter i'd sit by the fire and pet you until i had enough fur to felt a hat with, and in the summer, you'd tollerate sweaty nudges of my fingers. i always pet you more in wintertime, you always hated the cold. I got up and closed the window, just before you died.

i always gave you one more pet after i thought i was too tired to give you anymore if you didn't walk away from me first, one more. just one more. I used to say, just one more so that when she dies I’ll know I gave her all the love I could and then some.

That was a lie, I have so much love for you left and when you die there will be no where for it to go. I should have given you double, or triple the love I did.

i really hoped, this last winter, that you'd make it to see the summer, just because then you'd be more comfortable, and maybe you could go back to watching the chiptmunks in the garden. Your days of chasing them long over. maybe i should feel happy, you got to see the spring. it's june now, 7 days shy of summer, and i know it's your time to go.

i just want to say thank you, thank you for being my friend, thank you for being my cat. if i'm allowed one more lifetime, i'd like to spend it with you <3 you where the best cat ever.

i promise i'll listen and learn to love you just as well next time <3

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itsgrimeytime · 9 months

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Magnolia in May (Part Seven) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: kinda anti-Lori, misunderstandings, a marriage of convenience, and mentions of loneliness.

[[A/N: girllllll, not another Magnolia in May chapter!!! Whoops. And actually tagging bestie @imaginemyfavoritefics properly this time, bc I did use the idea of Daryl as the courier. Unrelated but this gif of him clenching his jaw... girl. Thanks for reading !! ]]

You'd taken to writing letters -the gentle swish of your quill was calming the storm of your mind. Originally, you had garnered a sort of cold from the walk in the rain and had to heal -now, you'd stayed holed up of your own accord.

'Nonsense, darling,' Headmistress had said, fluffing up your pillows, '-you must heal from a broken heart like any other wound.'

It was fewer letters and more of a sort of journal -only for your eyes to see but sometimes addressed to someone other than yourself. It started simply with one occasionally to Maggie to make her smile, or Beth to tell her things you'd learned so she wouldn't have to, or to remind Father to eat a meal when he'd been so focused on a patient that he'd neglect himself. But then, Mr. Grimes started appearing at the header.

You couldn't remember the first time it had happened, days rather blurred after that day -especially since you were treated shortly after. And rest was all you'd really gotten then, it made the passage of time blurry.

But it became something you were rather dependent on.

'Mr. Grimes,' you wrote in the first of its kind, quill rather fluid at this stage.

'I met your wife, Lori. She's a wonderful woman, kind and perfectly poised. I would, in a different life, maybe be friends with her -seems the type to be good company. Was it always her?

You've got something special, a family with beautiful children. It's every man's dream, is it not? You were my dream. I find it a bit hard to believe she would leave that dream behind. For what is more powerful than one's love for their child? I suppose there were other circumstances that I shall never be aware of. I would've liked to have known why. I understand it's a rather personal thing, but I should be urged to hear something of the full story. I might deserve it.

But I suppose you deserve a full family more. Carl and Judith do. I wouldn't fit in. I would love the best for them, despite not having known Carl, he seems a bright boy. Deserves much of the best in life, I'd garner all children do.

I often wonder if I am to have children. I suppose I could ask you for advice one day, if so. But there's something in me that speaks differently. Like that path with you is gone. Maybe I should run off to the city and write away, become focused on my education. Pay for my father's living, and house my sister's 'til they're wed.

I don't think I could, with good conscience, leave Alexandria. I'm far too fond of the people the town, its where I grew up. And I suppose, to keep my father's clinic running under the family name I may marry. I'm not too sure that I'd marry for love, per say. Can you begin the fall in love more than once? Is it possible? And furthermore, although it is something I wish for, I'm not sure that I would like to bring children into a loveless marriage.

This is getting far too detailed of my own troubles, and for that I apologize.

I truly wish your family well. Even if there's no room for me.

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N Greene'

It was a positive experience, mostly. The smearing on that letter particularly wasn't of cathartic tears. Not quite a release of the emotions dying so tightly within your soul, it was rather grief. Loss of a life that you'd never have. Despite it being the one you desperately wanted.

You sighed, stashing away the paper with the other ones -the second desk drawer to the right, under the math textbook that had been gathering dust even before you were born.

Sure, it messed your hands, but you found it was a small price to be paid for secrecy.

"Y/N, dearest," your Headmistress hummed -voice pounding up the stairs, "-get dressed and meet me at the door in 10, will you?"

"Yes, Headmistress," you echoed, off to your feet and only touching up ever-so-slightly by the mirror. And in your rush, maybe you had forgotten to shut the drawer -you couldn't know now. It stayed open, and the telling corner of dustless papers under a dusty book was certainly one to ponder over.

At least for someone, it was.

You wouldn't know what had occurred until a few weeks later, as you sorted out your joint closet with Maggie. Gathering bows and ribbons, and straightening dresses, was a wonderful way to pass time -since your newest book was seeming to be tucked away in the carriage. You truly could not find it anywhere-

And then, there was a knock at the door.

Now, normally, this was of no notice -either for Maggie (who had gone on frequent outings with Mr. Rhee since the ball) or Father (ranging anywhere from an old friend to an urgent patient). But this was one to put a pause in your mind.

Maggie was, in fact, out -you remembered the shimmer of the carriage as it pulled away, and Father was rushed off for an emergency. And even further, Headmistress and Beth had gone out to a sort of gathering -some sort of tea party, you'd assumed. (They'd invited you, but you'd truly not wished to hear the gossip. Especially not now.)

You stilled, you were alone here then.

Well, you considered -making your way down the steps, -could be a sort of delivery. Ms. Elisa did frequently speak with friends out of town -often through letters. And Father always had an extra copy of cases delivered to his home -so he could think properly on an issue.

Satisfied with that, you approached the door with newfound confidence -fear that had stubbornly stuck there was unfounded. You twisted a bit of fabric in your dress, just to do something with your hands before swinging open the door.

And, it was a familiar face. Not one you had a name to, but one you knew -the courier.

"Ms. Greene," he spoke, his voice gruff and tired, much less peppy than you'd seen him before, "-I assume?"

"Yes," you answered cautiously, "-I'm the eldest Ms. Greene, why? If you're looking for Maggie-"

"No," he answered, simply, long hair moving with the motion of his head, "-Mr. Grimes requested this be given to you, the eldest."

"I can't acce-" you started but fell shut as a letter was extended to you -two letters. One a familiar sort of coffee-tinged brown -paper old and weary, you could hardly believe the quill hadn't punctured right through really. And the other, neatly folded, a pristine sort of ivory, and dark ink that somehow didn't seem to smudge at all. On the side that was exposed to you was written: Ms. Y/N Greene, in handwriting you recognized.

The one that had scribbled across the invitation so long ago-

"Who are you?" you questioned -eagerly bringing the letters close to your chest, "-And how did you get my letter? Have you been in my home-"

"Ms. Greene," he spoke -composed and calm, unmoved by your pressing questions, "-they were presented to me to mail weeks ago."

You froze, something heavy dropping in your stomach, "They? How... How many letters were you given to post?"

"A stack, no more than 10," he responded, "-the youngest Ms. Greene, opened the door for me once to deliver an invitation. The same one I 'ave been for weeks- It ain't relevant, really. She knew where I came from, and requested I bring 'em to Mr. Grimes immediately."

You paused, "An invitation?"

"More like a summonin'," he clarified, rather poised but still somewhat a bit casual, "-it's always the same request for you, the eldest, to attend to the Grimes estate."

"What?"

He paused, "It's supposed to be brought to ya, upon retrieval but... I'd guess it hasn't."

"You've-" you exhaled -a deep uncertain exhale, "-Just how long have you been delivering these?"

"Lost count."

"And-" you stuttered, a bit overwhelmed, "-and the letters, my letters they-"

"I put 'em in his hand, myself," he spoke -an ordered sort of discipline heavy in his tone with a dose of familiar twang.

"Right," you swallowed -pushing down the nerves biting up your throat at such rampant pace, he was never to see those, "-and who are you exactly?"

"Grimes estate courier," he grumbled out, a some of bitterness gathered there.

"No, no," you quirked a brow at him, "-your name? I figured as much otherwise."

He answered, rather improperly -as if he was trained in some ways and ignorant in others just slightly, "-Daryl Dixon."

"Mr. Dixon," you echoed, a sort of curiosity in your tone, "-you said he received the full stack, did he not?"

He merely nodded.

"Well, why do I only have one, then?"

The man pondered it for a second, loosely eyeing the way you held the letters like he knew what they contained (maybe he did), "I suppose he ain't done replyin' to the others."

The rest of the interaction was fairly polite, mere questions about his work -to which he complained quite vividly about the extent of it, but never shred a wrong light on Mr. Grimes. You'd gathered they were well-acquainted, even perhaps friends from youth, but you couldn't exactly pinpoint it. He didn't say anything directly, and was rather quiet around details. Well, details pertaining to Mr. Grimes, you supposed.

You'd initially wanted to search for the invitations he spoke of, but something bigger was biting you.

Your hands were quick to rush to the drawer, pulling it open -to suddenly believe it was not real. To prove that all of this was a farce, that the letters were still safely kept. But, when you opened it, you could tell.

Even still, you pushed forward holding up the book, peering underneath. It was empty, extraordinarily empty.

"No, no, no-" you urged, heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach -heavy, "-it can't be..."

Private pieces of you, of your sadness, your longing- Sent to the married man of the header.

And just back as you pushed back in your chair, the brush of tears only a breath away -your eyes caught on the letter.

It was not yours.

Yours sat just beside it, you recognized it to be the first one -all sort of crumpled and agonizingly smudged. All conflicted feelings and harsh realities buzzing under your skin. You'd written it partially under the delirium of your illness, so it was rather brash but you'd never thought you'd need to worry about it. The only thing different was how it was presented.

You remember hastily shoving it away, between book covers, under table legs, hidden in the dirt of the garden, as you tried to find a good place to stash them. You'd always been so quick to put them away, to get out the feelings and move on-

Looking at it now, though, the worn paper was smoothed out (to the best it could be) and perfectly folded. Each corner matched to another and creases were indented lightly so as to not damage the written word. It was treated as precious. Something... Something he'd rather cared for.

Something told you then to get rid of it, to throw it onto the fire when no one was looking, to stash it away, to never read it no matter the cost because you were doing the right thing and should not be swayed-

But another part of you was dreadfully curious. And dreadfully grieving the loss of a man who still lived.

It was your mail, a letter addressed to you. Wouldn't it be rather rude to not read it? If you hadn't wished the first one to be mailed, you retorted, then no.

And yet, you found yourself picking up the note with the gentlest of graces. Carefully unfolding the thick paper, slowly, timidly, like the words would jump off the page. Like they could hurt you.

You supposed they could.

Once fully opened, you didn't directly focus on the words -instead, detailing the printed bits around the top edges. It looked as though this was an official sort of paper -the same kind an invitation may be extended to. As well as a family seal printed into the bottom right corner, it seemed a little formal for the occasion but you found it didn't bother you. Not really.

Taking a deep breath, you blinked your eyes -wishing to calm your heart, even just for a moment, and started reading.

'Ms. Greene,' it started, letters crisply written in a thin but precise sort of writing. Your finger naturally went to trace over them, dotting the i's and swirling the g's.

'I must first say that it's to my understanding that these letters are rather personal to you. You weren't the one who intended to mail them, I've come to know. I know that this then, by proxy, is a large invasion of your privacy.

And I can only hope you forgive me for such a thing. Because this is my sort of last resort to reach you. I'm sure you're familiar with the invitations that have flooded your door, and although, I understand the no response for what you know, I've become quite desperate.

To be completely clear, I was nearly on my horse to your home the morning these letters arrived. To explain everything as you deserve it to be explained.

I instead am here, writing letters. I cannot tell if that's any sort of better than my original plan was but it is the decision I chose.

In terms of Lori, the situation is rather complicated. Surely, at the young age we married, she was the plan. I'd honestly not given thought to the fact that she'd ever come back. I knew her reasons, and I fully doubted I'd ever see her again. And out of respect for you, I wish for the full story to be in person.

Despite all that, I truly wished she would. I know I did. If not only to see our children, to grace me with some sort of company.

I lived a rather lonely life before you Ms. Greene. Which may seem a bit arbitrary coming from a man with a staff, but it doesn't make it any less the truth. When she left, it was quite the scandal. I never spoke a word on it, too devastated to even imagine what to say. It meant much more reclusion, even from friends I knew from youth. And then, as I'm sure you're familiar, I decided to move back to Alexandria. Atlanta only harbored negative things, and I wished for someplace more pleasant. And it was, but still despite it all, the loneliness persisted.

So this family, this full family, you speak of, it's not what Lori and I would be. It wasn't what we were when we were married. I love my children, beyond belief, but I was still lonely. And I can't imagine a full family has a lonely father.

Frankly, Ms. Greene, I was lonely until that day in the marketplace.

And on the off chance you don't understand what I mean, I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.

Yours,

Richard Grimes'

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #magnolia in may #narrative letters ??? drama

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chiharuhashibira · 3 months

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𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓪-𝓼𝓪𝓷~

I don't think I should talk too much in this one-shot.

I'll just write it.

Little context: Saying to someone, "the sunset is beautiful isn't it" is a beautiful way to express your intense affection for them while recognising the hard part of letting them go. It's quite the opposite of “the moon is beautiful, isn't it?”.

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝑰𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍, 𝑰𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝑰𝒕?

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

Content Warnings: None ^^

Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance

"Y/N, have you ever wished that you could just live a normal life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you try to change anything if you could undo things?"

"I don't understand, Giyu. What are you trying to say?"

Pouting, I looked at Giyu and saw the somberness in his blue eyes. He was staring at the twilight, and I couldn't help but feel my heartbeat race.

Giyu looks so wonderful right now. He always does.

I never thought I would find myself in this state, a year after we became best friends. I never expected that the day when I'd fall for him would come. And yes, I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but it seems inevitable, isn't it?

I could say that everything that happened was unexpected, but it's one of the best surprises that happened to me.

Tomioka turned to look at me. There, I saw how the sun rays made him look almost ethereal and surreal at the same time. The way the beams of the sun caressed his seemingly pale skin and ravenette locks woke up the butterflies in my stomach. His deep blue orbs added fuel to the fire that caused my knees to feel weak.

Behind that somberness, a glint of wonder shone. And that brought back all the memories.

I didn't fall for him just because of his looks. I fell for Giyu because of who he is and all the things he has done for me.

This man had done so much for me in a short span of time. He knows I don't trust people that easily, and yet he has proven to me that not all are as bad as what I've portrayed them to be.

Tomioka's not the most sociable person, but when it comes to me, it seems like a new persona will suddenly show up. I could tell that he did all that he could to gain my trust.

The support that he had given me on every occasion, big or small, could be proof of everything. Our daily midnight calls and undying conversations about everything under the sun can also explain it.

He's even undergoing a rigorous training for quite a while, but yes, he makes time for me. Even the extent to which he's willing to sacrifice just to see me for six hours once or twice a month will be a testament to how dedicated this man is towards me.

Giyu's efforts didn't just gain my trust. He also unconsciously made me fall in love with him.

There are times where his notions make me think, what if he does all of this because he likes me back?

I'm his go-to person for everything. I even saw his craziest side, which seemed to hide away from the world. Giyu had unravelled himself on me slowly but surely. I am sure that every special thing that he does is just for me. Just for me.

He'd said it not once, but maybe three times. He's told me that he never usually does these things with other people. And yes, that made me quite happy and content. But again...

Why is Giyu doing this for me?

We could be friends for all eternity, but perhaps I wouldn't still be able to find the courage to ask him that.

I can't.

I just can't risk this wonderful friendship because of my curiosity.

I know I deserved to know, but do I really want to know that truth if the consequence of that would be losing him forever?

I've been asking myself another question too for so long. What if I am just delusional? What if all I am doing right now is just romanticising things that he does because I love him? What if everything is just in my head?

But why are you looking at me this way, Giyu? Why are you speaking to me so kindly that it melts me to the core? Why do you share lots of things with me? You used to use songs to tell me what you felt, until all my songs were also yours.

Why do you smile at me that way? Why do you choose to make all those sacrifices for me over anyone else?

Why is it me, Giyu?

These gentle caresses, the way you play with my hair, your embrace, and the way you hold my hand every time you have the chance to do so...

These actions are all the opposite of your aversion to physical interaction. I would never have thought I'd ever have had these experiences with you the first time I met you.

You're so gloomy.

You seem colder than the ice itself.

Then why are you radiating so much heat that it burns me?

Why me? Why is it me, Giyu?

"I'm just thinking, how would it feel if I decided to choose another path before? Like, how would it feel to have the perfect life?"

"What is the perfect life for you, though?"

"Hmm, perhaps it's like how I imagined it to be before. Having the perfect career, marrying at 25, and having my very own wonderful kids."

I wasn't able to give a retort to what you had just said. Giyu... Haven't you told me before that you didn't dream of marrying? Haven't you told me that you had never fallen in love once in your life?

Then, why are you asking me this now?

Why is it the opposite of what you told me before, again?

"Oh..."

"I mean. I just wonder how it would feel to have my own perfect family. I guess that would feel great."

"Yeah. What if you had all of those?"

"I don't know. Haven't you also asked yourself those questions?"

"I have lots of what-ifs, Giyu."

And one of those what-ifs is: what if you're now thinking this way because you want to make it happen with me?

But, of course, that would never happen. You don't like me that way, right? I'm just a friend.

It seems like no matter how I wish or manifest things to happen, you won't really fall for me, Giyu.

"Like what?"

What if you just loved me back? Why don't you just fall in love with me as easily as I fell in love with you? As far as I know, I did everything to try to show you my feelings. But it seems like it is not enough.

I'm not enough, and I'll never be enough.

"What if I'll never find love? You know me, Giyu. Behind all this shitty, tough facade, I'm a fucking hopeless romantic."

Giyu didn't answer me. Instead, he just looked back at the sunset and heaved a sigh.

"Then I guess we'll grow old together."

"Grow old together?"

He appears to be flushed by my reaction. His answer eventually shut down my hopes, which came like a flash flood.

"Just kidding. Y/N. You know what? You're still young, and I don't want you to be as miserable as me. Find love, then. Or let yourself fall in love? Whatever. The thing is, don't be too hard on yourself. Don't exhaust your heart on something that isn't worth it. You know?"

His monologue came to me like a slap in the face.

Don't exhaust your heart on something that isn't worth it.

"But how do I know if someone or something is worth it, Giyu? How do I know when to let go?"

Slowly, Giyu looked into my eyes. He seemed lost. In times like this, I wanted to be his compass. I wanted to be the answer, or at least, the light that'd guide him towards the answer. But it seems like now isn't that day, as he placed a hand over my shoulder and spoke up.

"I wish I could tell you, Y/N. But I think I won't be able to answer that. My heart is just too tired for love. I don't think I'll ever fall in love with anyone, Y/N."

He won't ever know how his words completely devastated me. How it confused me to the core.

All I want to do now is disappear.

I still wanted to ask him back. Why does he do these things for me? What's this effort all about, then?

Because if you wanted to just heal me, Giyu, you did more than that. You have been the only good thing in my life. You have been the peace that I am looking for whenever I need it. You made me think that the world is beautiful once again.

I think a tear had escaped from my eyes, as the next thing I felt was Giyu's thumb caressing my cheek. "Why are you crying? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" He looked concerned, and that shattered me.

I wanted to scream at him to stop with his kindness and sweet gestures, as it confuses me a lot.

But I didn't.

Instead, I buried my face in his chest and spoke up between my sobs. "I think I know the answer, Giyu."

"What are you talking about?"

I didn't answer, so Giyu pulled out and wiped my face with his hankerchief. "Hey, stop crying. I'm worried about you. Did I say anything bad?"

No, you just made me realise that I should have stopped a long time ago. I should let you go.

"No... I mean, perhaps it's just my hormones. I'm sorry."

"Okay. But you sure—"

"Yes. Giyu."

He looked at me, still having that sombre expression, so then... I gulped and looked at the sunset that he had been adoring for quite a while.

I took in the remnants of today's daylight and pointed out the horizon. I know you're used to me telling you how the moon is lovely, but perhaps that won't happen again.

"Giyu, look. The sunset is beautiful, isn't it?"

𝓜𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓱𝓾𝓱𝓾

I mean! Look at this one-shot T_T It hurts so much!

Idk why I had this idea all of a sudden. 🥺

Anyways. Thank you for reading!

Feel free to reblog, comment, and request!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

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darkstar225 · 8 months

Text

Twice's 10th member's love language is touch but Tzuyu's isn't 😓

A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry for disappearing but I got my wisdom teeth out so yeah- lol. Anyway- I got an ask on Tumblr and I loved writing it, ty anon! :D

The request: hii if your requests are open can i request something? maybe a fic with tzuyu where reader really wants to be affectionate, but knows tzuyu isn't very keen on that so they hold back until tzuyu starts to notice that somethings wrong and asks reader. then tzuyu is kinda like "why wouldn't you tell me this?" and reader admits that they didn't wanna make her uncomfortable, then tzuyu holds them until they fall asleep

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

In the heart of bustling Seoul, the vibrant energy of the city met the soothing tranquillity of a well-maintained apartment complex. Here, in this abode, lived Y/N, the youngest member of the global sensation TWICE, and a girl whose heart held a secret she yearned to share.

Being the maknae of the group, Y/N was practically bubbling with youthful energy. Her days were filled with laughter, music, and the kind of friendship that made her feel truly blessed. Among the group, however, there was one member she looked up to more than anyone else, Chou Tzuyu. Tzuyu, with her elegance, poise, and that quiet strength that resonated with the younger girl, was someone she held dearer than just a fellow idol.

Y/N admired Tzuyu to a level that transcended mere fellowship. In her eyes, Tzuyu was the older sister she had never had. Every smile, every word, and every action of Tzuyu seemed like a guiding light to TWICE's child. And yet, she held back, for she knew Tzuyu wasn't very keen on excessive displays of affection.

It wasn't that her unnie was cold or distant. She was just more reserved, more comfortable with her personal space. Y/N had picked up on this early, and while her heart ached to shower Tzuyu with the affection she felt, she restrained herself. She didn't want to make Tzuyu uncomfortable. She didn't want her older sister figure to feel burdened by her affection.

Days turned into weeks, and the secret Y/N held started to weigh heavily on her heart. Her bright eyes carried a touch of sadness that only the perceptive eyes of Tzuyu could detect. It was during one rehearsal, as they were running through their choreography, that Tzuyu finally noticed.

The way her sister seemed to hesitate before engaging in a group hug, the subtle sigh that escaped her lips when her hand brushed against Tzuyu's, the almost imperceptible flinch when Tzuyu playfully ruffled her hair. All these signs were like a mosaic of emotions that Tzuyu began to piece together. (finally)

After practice that day, Tzuyu waited until the others had left. She turned to Y/N, her gaze soft but probing.

Tzuyu - Darling, can I talk to you for a moment?

Y/N looked at her with wide eyes like a deer in the headlights, momentarily caught off guard. But then, she smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Y/N - Of course, Tzuyu unnie!

They sat down on the edge of the practice stage, the silence between them comfortable yet tinged with an unspoken question. Tzuyu fiddled with the edge of her water bottle, glancing at the youngest from time to time. After some time, she spoke first.

Tzuyu - Is there something bothering you, darling?

Y/N bit her lip, her gaze fixed on the floor. She hesitated for a moment before her heart won over her apprehension.

Y/N - Tzuyu unnie, I... I want you to know how much you mean to me. You're like the older sister I never had, and I really admire you. But I know you're not very comfortable with a lot of physical affection, so I've been holding back. *pouts*

Tzuyu's eyes softened, the realization dawning on her. She placed her hand gently on her sister's, causing the younger girl to glance up, her eyes swimming with vulnerability.

Tzuyu - Bae, why wouldn't you tell me this?

Y/N's voice trembled slightly as she answered.

Y/N - I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, unnie. I didn't want to burden you with my feelings.

Tzuyu sighed, a mixture of understanding and exasperation.

Tzuyu - You silly girl. You could never burden me with your feelings! If anything, you've just reminded me how much I cherish our bond.

As Tzuyu spoke, Y/N's heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. She blinked away tears, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding her.

Y/N - Really?

Tzuyu chuckled softly, the sound like a melodic jingle.

Tzuyu - Yes, really. And you know, it's not that I dislike affection. It's just that sometimes, I get caught up in my own head. But for you, I promise, I'll try my best.

Tzuyu's words were like a warm embrace, a comfort TWICE's angel had been yearning for. The weight she'd carried on her heart began to dissipate, replaced by the genuine affection that flowed between them. At that moment, Y/N realized that her admiration for Tzuyu was not one-sided. Tzuyu cared for her just as deeply.

Y/N - Can I hug you, unnie?

Tzuyu smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

Tzuyu - Of course you can, honey.

And so, in that empty practice room, the pair shared a hug that spoke volumes. It was a hug that carried the weight of unspoken emotions, the depth of their connection, and the promise of a bond that would only strengthen with time.

As they pulled away, Tzuyu's hand found its way to Y/N's hair, ruffling it playfully. Y/N laughed, a sound that echoed with newfound joy. Tzuyu's smile was brighter than ever, a reflection of the happiness she felt in being able to offer comfort to the girl who she saw as a younger sister.

Tzuyu stood up and extended her hand to Y/N.

Tzuyu - Come on, let's head home. I'll make you some of my special tea. *smiles with her sweet dimples*

Y/N took her hand, a radiant smile gracing her features. As they walked out of the practice room, side by side, it was a picture of sisterly affection that neither of them would ever forget. And when they finally settled down with cups of tea, Tzuyu held Y/N until she fell asleep, the bond between them stronger than ever, bathed in the warm glow of a newfound understanding and love. As the older members woke up the next morning, they saw this image and could only have a single thought:

We love our maknaes.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

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hwabang · 9 months

Text

Cake🎂- Yang Jungwon

Genre: fluff + very slightly suggestive (?)

Warnings: fem!reader, idol!Jungwon + idol!reader, older!reader only by a year, slightly suggestive = mentions of dancing sensually together, use of the word Noona, friends to lovers, Jungwon is obsessed with reader

Author’s Note: Y'all remember how in my first Jungwon imagine I wrote in the author's note that he's not even one of my enha biases but I wrote for him before writing for Jay and Heeseung?... Yeah, well, guess who has 3 biases in ENHYPEN now🤭

For reference here's KARD's 'Cake' Dance Practice

(gif not mine!)

"Collab with me."

Jungwon raised his eyebrows as he sipped his lemonade. "When you asked to meet me I was not expecting that."

Deciding to take a sip of your iced coffee, you quirked an eyebrow at him. "What were you expecting then?"

"For you to accept my confession."

You playfully scoffed. "Keep dreaming lover boy."

Jungwon smirked at you. "Always am baby. Why do you wanna collab with me?"

"Well, my members and I did a live the other day and at one point we asked our fans what they wanna see for our 2nd anniversary coming up. The staff prepared some options and the most popular one was doing a cover with another idol. Our team said we get to choose the idol, concept, and type of cover. So yeah. Collab with me."

"Well I gotta say I'm flattered." Jungwon picked up some of his cake with his fork and brought it in front of your mouth. "Say ah."

You followed his command and hummed once you tried the cake. "Wow, that's good. So what do you say?"

"What song do you wanna cover?"

"'Cake' by KARD."

Jungwon smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of getting close to me? Because if so then just know all you had to do was say the word and I'd touch you."

Flustered, you took more sips of your drink, hoping Jungwon wouldn't notice the blush on your face. "N-no, that's not it... I– the song has been stuck in my head since it came out and once I saw the dance I knew I wanted to cover it, and now I got the chance to do it so I asked you."

"Hypothetically," Jungwon started, crossing his arms and leaning on them on the table. "If I say no, who will you ask?"

You shrugged. "I'm sure Jake would do it with me."

Jungwon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue and scoffed. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm! Maybe even Jay. Oh, I know Heeseung would LOVE to–"

"Yah," he whined. "Stop it I get it; you're hot and desired by many including my members."

You wore a proud smile on your face, loving how easy it was to rile him up. "So you'll do it?"

Jungwon looked at you as if you're crazy. "Of course I'll do it. Why would I give up any opportunity to be close to you?"

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach. "Great! So our team will contact yours and then I'm thinking you can come to my company every day for like 2-3 hours and we can start–"

"On one condition."

You sighed and nodded. "Okay, what is it?"

"After the release of our cover, you go on a date with me."

You were quite taken aback, but quickly gathered your composition. "Jungwon I told you–"

"Yeah yeah, we're both idols and you don't date younger guys." Jungwon closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, opening them back to give you eyes filled with hope. "I've heard it numerous times Y/N."

"Th-then you should stop pursuing me.." Your voice was quiet as you fiddled with the fork on your dessert plate. You said it so easily, sure but did you really want that?

It was almost as if Jungwon could read your thoughts. "See but you don't really want that do you baby." Your silence made Jungwon let out another frustrated sigh as he took your hand gently in his. "Tell me, what are you so afraid of, hmm? And don't say fans, otherwise you wouldn't have asked me to do such a suggestive dance with you."

"Jungwon you're just younger and I don't–"

"I'm a year younger than you Y/N. What's so bad about me being younger anyways?"

"I-I don't know... I guess I'm just..."

Jungwon rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, trying to coax it out of you. His eyes had a hint of worry in them. "Tell me baby," he said softly.

You sighed before finally letting your real feelings out. "I want us to work, and I guess I'm just afraid that it won't and I'll be left here all hurt and all alone in the end. So I'm saving myself from that I guess... that's it."

Jungwon pouted before leaning closer to the table, taking your other hand in his free one. "Y/N.. why do you think we won't work out?"

"There's just so much that could go wrong and–"

"And how can you be so sure that'll happen with us? We both will try our best to make our relationship work yeah? So why not just give it a chance? We both want it Y/N, let it happen."

You contemplated a bit as Jungwon kept caressing your hands with his, patiently waiting for a response. "A-after our cover is released?"

Jungwon smirked. "Or we can go on one tomorrow too."

---

idk man i'm OBSESSED with the thought of jungwon being absolutely INFATUATED with a slightly older reader, like 🥵 anyways, hope this little drabble(?) was okay! love y'alll <3

#enhypen #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Note

Could you write Lester Sinclair a secret (at first) lover who is a man? They live outside of Ambrose and are just as or even more eccentric than Lester. They are also more athletically built and a good bit taller. 💕 If this is too specific just let me know!

✦Lester Sinclair W/ Male!S/O✦

*slamming hands on desk* I LOVE GAY SHIT ✦AMAB!Reader that uses He/Him pronouns, implied to be 6'0+ & muscular, also kinda southern, warning for some suggestive stuff, also for time-period appropriate homophobia✦

I firmly believe Lester is pansexual with no preference. He's just into people, though of course, he doesn't know much about labels. He's not in the loop of society much, and he grew up in a small southern town. He knows straight, gay, and "straight until you have a beer", essentially.

Lester never had the understanding of why being gay would be an issue. Even when he'd hear people whisper about it. He's probably asked his brothers before, which was hard to explain to Lester. Bo didn't really try and Vincent struggled to find the right words.

Lester probably had to have it explained in the simplest of terms. "Ain't nothin' wrong wit' bein' gay or bein' straight. But people gonna talk if you swing one way, cause people are assholes. That's how it is." That's what Bo said. Vincent took a little more care, writing it all out so he wouldn't be hindered by limited sign language.

"People hate what they don't understand. If they can't relate, most of the time, they won't have empathy. Those people are cruel. Their opinion means nothing, even if they're a majority sometimes. It doesn't matter where your love comes from, as long as it's genuine." Vincent had a much nicer way with words. But Lester took both explanations to heart.

He never really saw representation either, so it probably took him a long time to realize which way he slid. He knew he definitely liked women, he and Bo had a similar type most of the time. But occasionally, he'd find himself staring at man, unable to break the stare for some reason. I'd imagine he was around twenty before he heard the term bisexual and ran with that for a little while. He doesn't label himself though, he's more of a go-with-the-flow type of guy.

Lester never properly came out either, not when he was sober anyway. I'd wager to bet that Vincent probably knows because they're also a bit fruity, while Bo's oblivious.

Though Lester likes just about anyone who gives him positive attention, he's got minuscule experience. He was always the weird kid growing up and he never knew how to really grow out of that. He likes people, but he doesn't understand people if that makes any sense. Maybe he got lucky once, honestly, I can't see him being much of a playboy or anything.

Him having a male significant other would probably come up out of nowhere, since he's never been the type to actually bother looking for a date. All his crushes were spontaneous and a lot of the time, he didn't even try talking to them. I'd imagine he'd bump into you either in a public setting, or maybe he'd find you walking by yourself toward Ambrose. Or perhaps you're his favorite worker at a store he regularly visits. Whatever it is, he'll be a little thrown off by the butterflies he gets.

Even when you're dating, Lester won't tell his brothers. He trusts his brothers with a lot, but he's shy about his sparse love-life. Bo's very protective & reading Vincent's opinion is virtually impossible. That coupled with the old mindsets they were raised around, and then lay the fact it's the early 2000s on top of it? Yeah, he's got a lot of anxiety.

Lester will be honest that he has brothers nearby, but explain haphazardly that he's a bit worried about introducing him. "Cause I'm a guy?" "Oh no no, well, I mean, kinda. But like they ain't bigots or nothin', it's just that they're protective and I don't want them gettin' the wrong idea, and they-"

Man went on rambling for minutes on end until you reassured him it was fine, and that you completely understood.

Lester knows that a lot of people are against gay marriage and stuff, but at the same time, he doesn't filter how he feels about you at all. Even in public. Sometimes he'll be hyper-aware of who's around and other times he acts as if you two are the only ones that exist.

Holding your hand in the store, playfully flirting at a bar, demanding a kiss when he does good on picking groceries. He's not used to affection so he soaks it up like a sponge Homophobes be damned, he's gettin' his lovin'!

In any relationship Lester's in, I can't see him being necessarily dominant, though I can't see him being real submissive either. He's more in the middle. That kind of dynamic doesn't really happen in everyday life when you're with him, you're equals.

In the bedroom, this tends to carry over as well, but again, he's not super experienced. Especially with a man. There's some anxiety that blends with his eagerness, and it leads to him kinda...awkwardly freezing. He wants to do stuff! He's just not sure what the stuff is. You'll definitely need to coax him to loosen up, explaining you can take the lead for now, and if he wanted to do so later? When he had more confidence? Then you'd do that.

That being said, Lester honestly doesn't mind bein' a bit of a pillow princess. He doesn't know that's what he's being but hey, it's nice being cared for sometimes! Especially when you're a super touch-starved dude like he is.

You ain't wearing him out either, he gets hyped up on this stuff. If you're the type to need a nap after doing the naughty? Good fuckin' luck, Lester's ready to talk your damn ear off. "Oh! Did I tell ya 'bout the giant wolf spider I found in my truck? The sucker was big as my hand! I mean it! Wolf spiders are real interestin', they got real good eyesight and-"

You know so many animal/plant facts, it's really great for bar trivia.

Lester's not bothered by the fact you're bigger than him either. He has no issue at all, he can work around that! You can life twice what he can? "That's mighty useful! Maybe you can give me a hand!" Oh, your voice super deep and bass-y? "I bet everyone would lis'en to me at the wood shop if you'd back me up! Soundin' all scary like that!" Oh, you a bit too tall for him to reach for a kiss? "Oh that ain't no problem! I can just stand on the back o' my pick-up! Look, see? Now I'm perfect height ta reach!"

Hell, he'll fuckin' jump if he has to. He's getting that kiss.

Lester moves really fast in a relationship for the most part. He's not going to pressure you and he's completely understanding if you need to move slower, but he's not wasting any time if you're okay with it. Move in a week after meeting him! Hell, he'll marry you within a few months if you feel it's right. Full courthouse and everything! (Don't tell him it's not legal yet, he'll get sad)

If you find out what his brothers do, and the fact he helps them, Lester gets sick and numb. He'll honest to god have a panic attack if he can't find you afterward. He's worried about his family and now he's sickened by the fact the person he loves most thinks he's a monster. That doesn't tend to bother him any other time.

But, if you don't leave, and even seem kinda chill with it? It's the biggest relief. It'll also help how he feels about you meeting the twins.

Still, he'll try to keep you away from it if possible. He doesn't want you needing to get your hands dirty with blood unnecessarily.

He absolutely thinks you being sadistic is attractive, I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. He's willing to kill for the person he loves, and if you return the favor? Oh, OH, he's gonna suck ya dick so hard.

✧---------------------------------------------------------✧

There were storm clouds coming in, and quickly. The wind was cold and it was growing harsher by the second. Dirt & small rocks clattered together as your shoes met the ground. You took in a deep breath and looked up to the sky, silently cursing the hands of fate that dealt you these cards. It was a shitty deal and you clearly weren't cut out for gambling with this kind of luck. "Fuckin' figures."

You'd come out to the middle of nowhere with nothing but some clothes in a bag, a Nokia phone, a switchblade, and your dignity. All shoved into a 1971 SST 2-door hardtop. Which was now completely dead. Both from a lack of coolant & gas. It had carried you across half of Lousiana, loyal thing, but it was bound to fail eventually. Especially with the limited funds you had. It was either a car or food, and bathing, given not every local gym was nice enough to let you take a shower for free. You'd at least managed to get one before you ended up on some old backroad, not that it would matter now, since the rain was coming in. Being in between jobs was hard enough. It seemed like everything kept getting worse. Being let go from a decent-paying job, losing an apartment, and needing to move back home all at twenty-four? Not a great month. Then it was made even worse.

All because your parents were old Southern baptist.

They'd heard it around of an old "buddy" of yours, a brief boyfriend was what he really was. Not a terrible guy, honestly, but it didn't work out. It ended amicably. And yet, one slip to one wrong person, and now you were a homeless drifter. Of course, your parents had technically given you an option. Rebuke the devil or leave. Naturally, you left. You weren't a huge fan of your parents anyway. You'd told them you'd be caught sucking the devil's dick before you went through another baptism to "wash the queer" out of you. That was basically the last nail in the coffin of your already shotty relationship with them.

You'd been walking for a while, though you weren't exactly sure how long. Long legs getting you pretty far with each stride. A headache had begun forming from the unconscious anger showing in your face, clenching jaw and furrowed brow. You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, looking down at the dirt. A large gust of wind blew towards your face and it carried a terrible smell with it, making you cringe and slow for a moment. "Fuckin' hell, the fuck is that?" You hissed, looking around. It was a few feet further before you saw the cause. A roadkill pit. "That 'splains it." You slurred quietly, adjusting the hold on your bag. You hummed, watching flies circle around decaying bodies of deer and other animals. You tore your eyes away at the sight of a decomposing dog. Poor thing.

You'd made it about a little past before the sound of tires and some clacking caught your attention. You turned and spotted a Chevorlet, old and dirty. Probably from 1980-something. It rolled to a stop beside the pit. You tilted your head and watched as someone got out, seemed like a man, probably only 5'7". Dressed in a stained flannel, some jeans tucked into boots, and a dark green hat. Whistling a tune as he walked around the truck and to the back. The sound of a tailgate dropping and thumping gave away what he was doing. He was the roadkill driver. Respectable job, even if gross.

You stepped a bit closer. Maybe he'd know where the nearest town was, or maybe you'd get lucky and he'd have a bottle coolant somewhere in that truck full of... raccoon tails and bones, by the looks of it. Though you paused when a dog's head popped up from the seats, staring at you through the windshield. Then it began barking, though it didn't seem too aggressive, you hoped anyway. There was a light sprinkle of rain starting now, and it would no doubt start to get worse. The man spoke to the dog as he came back around the truck. "Yeesh, Jonesy, what's your deal?" He asked in a thick southern accent. He looked in your direction and you gave an awkward wave. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak out your dog."

The man shut the car door. "Ah nah, that's alright. Can I help ya?" He smiled. Not the best teeth but he couldn't help but remind you of a dog. You returned the smile in kind. "Well uh, I'm not sure. Would you happen to know of a town nearby? Or, perhaps you got some coolant in that truck of yours?" You asked. The man adjusted his hat and shook his head. "Ain't got any of that, but there's a station up in Ambrose. Bo could fix ya up there. Might wanna get there quick before the storm gets worse." He said, walking back to his truck. He motioned for you to come closer. "I could take ya if you'd like!"

"Really? Fuck, you're a lifesaver." You sighed in relief, jogging closer. The dog, Jonesy, popped up when you opened the passenger's side door. She sniffed at you aggressively, tail wagging, before she seemed to smile and settle down. "Well, aren't you sweet." You said softly, patting her back as you got in the truck. Bones clattered. It was a busted-up truck, but it was charming in that way. "Oh yeah, Jonesy's a sweetheart for sure. Found'er on the side of the road! Got real sad cause I thought I'd be puttin' her in the back. But nope! She was alive!" The stranger smiled, staring the car again. You hummed and quickly acknowledged you hadn't told him your name, which you quickly corrected. He repeated it by the syllable to ensure he got it.

"Name's Lester Sinclair! Nice meetin' ya!" He held out one of his hands. You went to shake it, though hesitated when you saw some roadkill blood. He glanced and quickly wiped it on his jeans. "Sorry bout that." "Nah nah, it's fine. Come with the job, yeah?" You said, properly shaking his hand now. His hands were callous and dirty, but Lester noted how much smaller his hands felt compared to yours. He never thought he had small hands until now. "Mighty big hands you got, you a workin' man?" He asked. You shrugged. "More or less. Not at the moment. Corporate bullshit and all." He nodded at your response.

You glanced down at the dog between the both of you and noted a knife strapped to his belt. "That a bowie knife?" You asked. Lester looked over and then down before he grinned, pulling it from the holster. "Yeah! You like knives? Carved this one myself!" He held it up proudly. He felt warmth bubble in his face as your fingers grazed his, taking the blade. "That right? Did a good job by the looks of it. You the "use everything" type of man, eh?" Lester felt his cheeks burn, he hoped it didn't show. "Mhm, that'd be right!"

"Well, that's real admirable. Don't find people like that much anymore." You complimented, giving the knife back. Lester seemed to get more energetic, tapping his fingers on the wheel. Maybe he thought it was subtle but you noticed, and honestly? It was pretty cute. The sound between you both dipped off for a moment as the rain grew worse, clattering against the windows. "So what brings you all the way out here?" Lester spoke again. "Oh, technically I was just off the highway, I've been walking this road cause my car gave out on me. Poor thing, been through a lot recently." You explained. The man looked over at you with wide eyes. "You walked this whole way from the highway?! Well, I'll be damned, you must be exhausted! What's a guy like you doin' that for?" He asked.

"Well, been a shitty month. Job let me go, been strugglin' to get a new one. Got kicked out of my apartment cause rent went up by twice as much as it used to be. Went to my parents for a lil, then had a falling out with'em. Probably the last I'll ever speak to'em." You admitted. It felt cathartic to actually say it out loud even if it was also upsetting. Exhausting for you to recall all the problems that happened in such a short span of time. Lester clicked his tongue in sympathy. "Ain't that some shit. What was so bad they kicked ya out?" He asked innocently. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was always hard to gauge how people felt about the topic of gay people, and with all due respect, Lester didn't seem like the type to be cool with it. Still, it wasn't like you had much to lose. So, with a sigh, you just said it.

"Ain't too into me likin' men. Church-going types." You said quietly, looking out the window, following the raindrops. "Oh that kinda bullshit, don't blame ya for not wantin' to talk to'em then." His response was quick and it honestly caught you off guard. "You uh...you okay with that?" You asked. Lester glanced over and nodded. "Yeah? Well, I grew up 'round people who weren't, but I didn't ever understand why. One of my brothers put it in a way that always stuck with me. It don't matter where your love comes from, s'long as it's genuine." He explained. A smile broke out across your face and your gaze softened. "Well, that's a nice change."

Lester nodded. Butterfly wings grazed his stomach and he came to a stop, hissing between his teeth. "Road's washed out worse than I thought. Thought I could beat it." You waved your hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. I can probably just walk across. You got me pretty far." You replied. "You'll get soaked out in that! And there ain't no guarantee Bo'll even be at the station. Hm..." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "I got a cabin nearby if you wanna wait it out there. Only if ya want though!" He offered. The kindness was a much-welcome change. Perhaps it was a bit naive to just...agree. But you didn't feel like wading through ankle-deep water to end up in a town with no one in it. "Yeah, sounds fine to me." Lester beamed at your agreement. He hadn't had guests in his home in...well, ever, excluding his brothers.

Some nerves burned in his body as he changed course to drive up to his cabin. Silence passed between the two of you, comfortable for you, tense for Lester. Finally, he struck up a slightly shy conversation. "Ya know uh, I ain't ever been to sure bout my whole...sexuality, or whatever it's called." He admitted. You glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah?" "Well like, I know women are mighty pretty. Always knew that. But uh...ya know, every now and then..." He trailed off with a passive hand motion, ears bright red. You smiled and gave a soft chuckle, not mocking, more fond. "There's a man that's just as pretty?" You asked, making him nod. "But then there's manly women and pretty men and they're also nice to look at. Met a few people who I couldn't tell at all, but I knew I liked lookin' at'em." Lester rambled.

"Well, there's a term called pansexual, bisexual also covers that kind of feeling. It's the ability to be sexually and romantically attracted to people. Just people. Regardless of their biological gender or how they present." You explained. It was a bit more complicated than that, but a simple explanation was probably best suited. "That right? Huh...maybe I'm that then." Lester mumbled. "Could be. Ain't anything wrong with it." You shrugged. The conversation dipped off again but not for long. "You got a type in men?" You asked, smiling when Lester choked on his own saliva. "Well uh- I mean, no, but like-..." He stuttered. Your laugh rang out in the truck and he felt his chest tighten. "Relax, loverboy, take your time." The pet name made Lester's blood burn. He let out an exhale. "Startin' to form one right now." He whispered, maybe thinking you couldn't hear.

You did.

"I'll keep that in mind." You replied quietly. Lester let out an exhale as he turned past some trees, pulling up to a nice-looking cabin. Rustic and hidden amongst tall trees. You snorted when the man thumped his forehead on the steering wheel, snickering when he patted his face. "Alright, I'm good." He said, sitting straight again. "Welcome!" He motioned to the cabin. You laughed again and nodded. "Thank you! C'mon, I'm eager to see all the bones you have." You said. Lester brightened up and hopped out of the truck like a kid on Christmas. He'd never had anyone interested in his bone collection. Running up to the porch. "Oh I got plenty to show ya, trust me." Lester grinned. "If it's anything like your truck? I'm excited." You nodded, following him inside.

What a nice turn of luck.

#lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker #house of wax #slashers x male!reader #male reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #slasher #slasher headcanons #gay gay homosexual gay

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vimara00 · 5 months

Text

Hi everyone, It's Vi! 💕 How are you all doing?

These months had been quite hectic and I didn't have enough time to write so I'm very sorry about it. I missed writing for you guys so much! I'll try to update more frequently, ok?

So, I really hope you enjoy!

All characters' reservations to Horikoshi

All lyrics reservations to Taylor Swift

Warnings: none, sad but fluff at the end

Right where you left me

I recommend reading it while listening to "right where you left me" by Taylor Swift

The news about Tenko's family murder and his disappearence were all over the city, but at that time, it seemed like nobody cared enough to look for him except for me. Tenko never really had any friends as everybody made fun of him cause he hadn't manifested a quirk back then, so he'd usually play with his dog and sister. The first time I approached him, it was raining, and he was sitting on a bench crying alone. I stood in front of him with my umbrella, covering both of us, offering a tissue, and I swore I'd never seen such a beautiful yet suffering pair of eyes in my whole life. I didn't know much at my age, but I could tell how much pain he was going through, so I became his shelter, his protector, someone he could trust. At least for a while...

We would play heroes every day at 5 pm on the park near his house so it was uncommon for him not to arrived on time. The last time we saw each other He had to leave early cause his neck was itching too much and he had promised he'll be back with a big smile on his face. I waited for hours but he never showed up. The next day my parents explained what had happened and I didn't want to believe them so I kept going to the same park, at the same hour, every single day with the hope that he'll appear.

They say, "What a sad sight"

I swear you could hear a hair pin drop

Right when I felt the moment stop

Glass shuttered on the white cloth

Everybody moved on I stayed there

Days became months, months became years and I was still longing for him to arrive. All my neighbors gave me their pitiful looks whispering 'what a sad sight' and how I needed to 'gave up and live my life like everybody did'. I also became a urban legend about the heartbroken lady whose cries could be heard at night and be gone by the time the sun rises

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

The same bench that we use to share our snacks was now like chains wrapped around my body that won't let me leave.

Tried to study, make friends and fall in love but my mind, my soul and heart stayed at that park

I couldn't understand how someone I knew for so little could have such an impact. Maybe it was my guilt that wouldn't let me forget or the anger I felt towards those who decided to look away when Tenko was desperately asking for help

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

I used to daydream about the day he'd arrived and that I'd be there for him, forever

I'm sure that you got a wife out there

Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware

'Cause I'm right where

However, at my twenties I realized that probably won't happen; to think that he may be dead was too hurtful for me so I obligated myself to think he would have someone waiting for him at home and that he'd be given all the love he deserved

When the war break through I stopped attending to the park so I'd prayed he won't appear now that I was gone. After some time, the heroes won and the peace returned to our country. Many city where destroyed and so was the park except for, much to my agony, that damn bench and it seemed like it laughed at me

Almost an year later, it was raining so i took my umbrella with me and went to the park, again but this time, someone was sitting there which was unusual as this part was no fully rebuild. I approched in silence in order to sit but this man probably heard my footsteps and looked up at me. My body had frozen, my umbrella hit the ground and the words won't come out of my mouth. I could recognize those ruby eyes everywhere even if they looked as sad and tired as they did now. Too catch up in the moment and the emotions that came with it that I hadn't realized he stood up and was in front of me

'So you really waited for me...'

My eyes were full of tears and so were his. He grabbed my shoulders delicately as if I was going to break and said 'I'm sorry I made you wait for so long. I couldn't find my way back home to you. I was too lost in hatetred but if you are wailing to be with me, I'll make all these years worth the wait'

And my heart spoke for itself 'I will wait another fifteen years to be with you' as we hugged each other in the rain

After that day, I kept my promise to never let him go and that we would both stay

I'm right where you left me

You left me no, oh, you left me no

You left me no choice but to stay here forever

#bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bnha #mha #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #taylor swift #mha scenarios #boku no hero academia #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki imagine

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