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#like. can we please decide what the hell we're doing here. can i please get a four page (min) essay and why the fuck yall do this
fishtank32 · 11 months
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being in fandoms where the ship names are derivative of character traits put together is so fucking confusing. Yallre playing little alchemy with the fucking ship names and it's confusing!!!!!! just mush the names together like normal people and be done with it!!!!!!!!!!
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darkbluekies · 7 days
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(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities
Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl
Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come
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Dr Kry:
For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.
"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."
He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.
He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.
"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.
"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.
"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."
Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.
"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."
He sighs and looks at the different flavors.
"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.
"Come on ...", you mutter.
"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.
He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.
You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.
"Can we please do this again?"
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Hedwig:
Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.
"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."
"Trudy!" she shouts.
A small, older lady comes out through the doors.
"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.
"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"
The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.
"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."
Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.
"I don't know", you mumble.
Her father scares the living hell out of you.
"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."
Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.
"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.
She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.
"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"
"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.
"In you go!"
You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.
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kimhargreeves · 9 months
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A Flashy Act-Buggy x Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Summary: You and Luffy find yourself with new members for your small pirate crew, quickly after stealing the map to the grand line, you're all kidnapped by a crew of pirates.
(Based on the One Piece Live Action!! since no one has written about Buggy which has surprised me. Enjoy this one shot Buggy fans!! You guys can decide if you want part 2 to include smut or not😩 next part will be written depending on how well people like this🤡)
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"You know I'm gonna be king of the pirates. It's the first time I've had a ship like this." Luffy excitedly told the ginger haired girl.
"I know you've told me that many times already. Can you please be silent for once?" She asked getting annoyed by Luffy's constant talking.
"You be quiet. The kid's just excited." The green man known as Zoro told Nami.
Nami was trying to open the lock which was protecting the map inside.
Both of them unexpectedly helped us, when Luffy and I broke inside to find the map to the grand line, with a bit of help from Koby who had been kidnapped by Alvida. Thankfully Luffy saved him, the young boy said he wanted to join the Marines.
Luffy and I had entered and quickly met Nami and Zoro. Zoro was tied up with Nami dressed as a Marine trying to also have the map Luffy and I were after.
I have been by Luffy's side since many years now. Since he was a small boy, I am only just a couple of years older but I was the second person who raised him. The first being my older brother,l Shanks.
Just earlier the four of us were fighting a couple of Marine soldiers with Axe Hand Morgan trying to stop us, and almost did. If it weren't for Zoro and Luffy's help then we might've already been executed.
"He's just being enthusiastic about all of this. There's no need to be so mean." I said glaring at Nami and she glared back as well.
I decided to not say anything else to her so I walked over to where Luffy was holding onto his straw hat.
He had a smile on his face when he turned to look back at me. "Can you believe this, (Y/N). We finally have have a crew. I can only imagine the look on his face if he were to see me."
"I know he'll be proud. You're slowly becoming a true pirate." I nudge his shoulder and saw him smiling as he stared at the dark skies.
"I think we all make a pretty good team."
"Why do you even protect that hat so much. It looks like to fished it out of the trash."
"One man's trash is another man's treasure." Luffy replied to Nami when she spotted him holding onto the hat.
We all looked back and saw Nami has successfully managed to open the lock. "You did it!" Nami picked the map and unrolled it. With the four of us standing close looking down at it.
Luffy didn't get it or understood where the Grand Line is, so Nami began drawing it for him so he could understand it better. Rogers treasure is hidden somewhere in there.
A loud sort of bomb was heard with the sky now turning red. We all ran out of the ship and saw something explode in the sky. Zoro was the first to fall to the floor and Nami began to cough before she collapsed.
Oh shit. I tried to cover my mouth and nose but to was too late and I also fell to the floor and collapsed.
"Shhh (Y/N)."
I jumped up a bit and opened my eyes to see Luffy a bit too close to me. I rubbed my eyes and tried to stand up but saw that the four of us were inside of a wooden box.
"What..how did we get here?"
"It wasn't the Marines work. Before we all collapsed, I saw a ship heading towards us." Luffy said with Zoro quickly replying to him.
"It'll be easy then. Marines have training. Pirates don't."
We all were quickly met with circus music when the top of the box was removed along with the rest of the box. What the hell?
Zoro, Nami and I looked at each other weirdly when we looked at our surroundings. We were inside of a huge circus tent.
Red and white colored stripes with lights decorating the place, weird looking people and a crowd that were seated but we're tied by their ankles.
The crowd continued to clap with Luffy doing the same but Nami and I stopped him.
"No no no. Stop clapping! It's all wrong"
The four of us looked over at where the voice was coming from and we all looked to our left, and saw a tall man come through dressed entirely as a clown.
Long coat, bright blue long hair with exaggerated makeup and a red clown nose.
"The spotlight was late, it missed my entrance. And where oh where is the lion?" He said standing close to a man with white bear ears?
"Heyy. I know you." Luffy said which made me look back at him wishing he hadn't spoken.The man with blue hair turned to look at us. Wait..Luffy is right, we've seen him before.
"I saw your Wanted poster at Shell's town. You're the clown guy..umm..uhh. Binky, right?" He asked.
I nudged Luffy's shoulder. "Shut up, Luffy. That's Buggy." I muttered seeing that the clown kept his eyes on us.
"Buggy." The pirate corrected and grinned. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester." He said when no one spoke, seems like no one here knows about him.
"That one beside you seems to be the only one who's heard about me." I felt nervous when his blue eyes landed on me and he smiled.
I had only heard of him, and saw him on the Wanted poster. But I swear I must've at least since him once before…
He's creepy..but weirdly find him attractive. Maybe it's just my brain distracting myself from danger, who knows.
Luffy seemed impressed, "Wow. You have a lot of names."
I nodded my head and looked at Luffy, "He does. Everyone in the East Blue knows who he is."
"What did you just say?" His expression changed when I suddenly said that. Which made me confused.
"That everyone knows who you are?"
"Nose?!" I was paralyzed when Buggy came over and was now holding onto my face.
"Are you making fun of my nose?" He said a bit too close to me.
"I swear I wasn't! But..now that you mention it, is that thing real?" I asked genuinely wanting to know.
Buggy tilted his head as he stared at me, "You're kinda cute." He hummed and grinned
I saw Luffy's hand slowly started to try and tough the clowns nose until he smacked his hand away. The clown grinned looking down at me and stepped back letting go of me.
"You think you're so clever… What's real is I've been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe Hand Moron. Only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right under my no-…No!! It's in my head now."
"Hey! I'm not a nobody. I'm Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be king of the pirates." My best friend said making Buggy laugh.
"Oh! Now that's funny. My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine Outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East blue has ever known. I am destined to find One Piece. And when I do. I will be King."
"No, you won't. 'Cause I'm gonna find it first." Luffy told him.
Zoro stepped between us and looked at the other clowns behind Buggy. "I am Roronoa Zoro. Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."
This made Buggy laugh while looking at the green haired stoic man.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight. Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale."
Buffy retrieve a set of blades and smiled at us.
"My freaks put quite a bit of a rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can reward them with that map.. I suppose I'll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."
Nami stepped between Luffy and I now, now looking at Buggy. "Wait. What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map? What if I give you a new freak for your crew?"
"A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all the East Blue. Besides you, of course."
Nami glanced back at me and I glared back. Nami has grabbed Luffy's straw hat and tossed it up, just when Luffy showed his devil fruit powers, Nami left running.
"That little bitch." I whispered glaring at where she left.
It wasn't long at all when they brought her back and she revealed that Buggy's crew had destroyed the entire town.
He shrugged his shoulders as he stared at her. "Not everything. I let 'em keep their hands."
The sign for "clap" was lifted again, making the poor towns people begin to clap.
All the lights were suddenly focused on Buggy again. "I know one of you has my map, and I'm going to get it back." He said in a serious voice now.
"What was it you said, Rubber boy? That ir was in a safe place. Don't look so surprised. I got eyes and ears everywhere."
"I know where it is." I spoke up making all eyes turn to look at me.
I began to laugh as I showed the clowns and Buffy my middle finger. "You can all suck it or shove it up your asses.
Buffy clapped and at the people surrounding him. "Okay! Let's make our guests uncomfortable in the green room." A few clowns came to grab Nami and Zoro.
While another pair came to grab Luffy, Buggy stood behind me grabbed my neck and grinned looking at Luffy and looking back down at me.
"And I am gonna have a chat with our new pals.."
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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 months
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He's A Pretty One
Fandom: Stranger Things
Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Summary: You're visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.
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You're mindlessly perusing through the aisles of Family Video. Your younger cousin, Gareth dragged you along so you could help him decide on what movie to pick.
He approaches you with two in hand, "Halloween or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"
You grimace and look at him with a confused look, "Gare, it's the summer time. Why the hell do you want to watch horror movies?" It was summer time. You were one hundred percent sure there were better movies to pick than either of those two.
Your cousin rolls his eyes at you, "You can watch scary movies any time of the year, Y/N." His statement makes it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"It feels wrong watching it during the summer," you try to reason with Gareth.
He smirks, "Do you not want to watch it because it 'feels wrong'," he says using air quotations, "or is it cause you're a scaredy cat?" He's looking at you with the most annoying look on his face that you kind of want to punch him.
You narrow your eyes at him, "Shut the fuck up, Gareth. I'm not the one who refused to swim in the pool three summers ago after watching Poltergeist."
You hear a snort around the corner, causing you and Gareth to turn. A guy who looks around to be your age comes into view. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's smirking at Gareth, "You refused to go swimming after Poltergeist?"
Gareth rolls his eyes, "You never know if the pool you're swimming in was built over dead bodies that hadn't been relocated!"
The guy snorts and looks at you, sticking his hand out, "I'm Eddie-"
"Munson. Yeah, Gare's mentioned you before. I'm Y/N," you grasp his hand and give it a quick shake.
"Huh. Funny. Gareth never mentioned he had a girlfriend," he looks you up and down with no shame.
Both you and Gareth gag.
"We're cousins!"
"That's so fucking gross."
Eddie chuckles and holds his hands up, "Sorry. Didn't mean to assume," he then grabs the two movies from Gareth's hands. He looks at both and then shoves Texas Chainsaw Massacre to his chest, "Chainsaw Massacre is better."
He smirks and looks you up and down one last time, "Hope to see ya around Y/N," he gives you a wink and heads to the counter to pay.
Gareth looks at you and then Eddie and then back at you, "Please, don't," he says with a pleading face of desperation.
"What? I didn't say anything!"
"Please don't tell me you like Eddie."
"I don't....I just think he's...pretty."
Gareth gags again and you smack him on the head, "Oh quit it! Besides, I can have a summer fling if I want! You said there's nothing fun to do in this town, so why can't I create some fun for myself?"
"That's gross," your cousin shudders and goes to the counter to pay.
___________________________
The next time you see Eddie is at band practice. Eddie as well as the rest of Corroded Coffin arrive at Gareth's ready to practice their new set.
Eddie gives you a nod while the rest of the guys are fairly awkward around you. While they're warming up and tuning their instruments, you go up to Eddie, putting an extra sway to your hips.
"Is it okay if I'm here?"
He nonchalantly shrugs with a grin on his face, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"
You nod towards Jeff and Doug behind him, "I think I make them uncomfortable."
Eddie looks over his shoulder and snorts, "It's just 'cause they've never been in the presence of a hot girl before."
You smirk at him, "You think I'm hot?"
He looks you up and down like he did at the video store, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart."
"CAN WE PLEASE START PRACTICE NOW?!" Gareth yells, breaking the tension that started to build between you and Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes and slips his guitar strap over his shoulder, "Yeah, alright." He slowly backs away but shoots you a wink as he gets into position.
You plop yourself onto the couch ready to watch what your cousin and his friends got.
__________________
You thought Eddie was hot before but holy fuck was he sexy as hell now after you've watched him perform. The way he plays and sings his heart out is just...it leaves you speechless...and a little hot.
After practice was over, Gareth goes up to you, sweaty but with a proud look on his face, "So? Whaddaya think?"
"You guys sound pretty good, Gare. And you guys are performing this weekend right?"
"Yup! You're coming right?"
You snort, "I have nothing else better to do, plus, I gotta support your annoying ass," you shove his shoulder and your cousin rolls his eyes.
You try to shove him again but Gareth dodges you and steps away. You chuckle and then glance at Eddie, who's had his eyes on you the entire time.
You walk up to him with a smirk, "Not bad, Van Halen."
"Thanks," Eddie puffs up his chest in pride, "Gonna be our first groupie, hm?"
You scoff and wave off his comment, "Oh please, I'm just supporting my cousin."
Eddie licks his lips and leans closer to you, "Come on. Once we get big, you can have bragging rights that you were our first fan and that you knew us before we blew up."
You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side, "That all I get for seeing you guys perform? Bragging rights?"
He looks at you with a smirk, "Why? You want something more?"
You snort and take a step closer to Eddie, your face very close to his, "Think you have something I'd want, Pretty Boy?"
He's smiling wide at you now, "You think I'm pretty?"
You look him up and down just like how he did earlier. To repeat his words back to him, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart." You then turn on your heel and head back inside Gareth's house leaving him feeling equally as hot as he made you feel.
Part 2
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angelicsoka · 4 months
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ROMEO & JULIET, l. hughes
word count | 1.3k
pairings | luke hughes x fem!zegras!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x sister!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader
summary | in which trevor zegras finds out who his sister has been fooling around with, and he isn’t very happy.
warnings | not proofread, no use of "y/n", but the reader goes by the nickname “jules”. slight nsfw content but no smut. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | this is highly requested, however i did rewrite it like 3 times. it still isn’t my favorite thing ever but here it is! enjoy!!
jules zegras was off limits to trevor’s friends, a rule that jules found incredibly stupid. since when did he get to decide who she can and cannot date? still, she kept her distance and they kept theirs. that was until luke hughes walked into jules’ life. 
it started off as nothing more than a fling, a one night stand. but one night turned to two, and nights turned into morning coffees, you get the picture. jules was happy, luke hughes made her happy. he was the perfect gentleman, he opened the car door for her, brought her flowers for every date night. he treated her like a queen and fucked her like a whore. he was the definition of perfect in jules’ eyes; the only problem was trevor. 
because of trevor, they spent most of their time together, sneaking around. quick kisses as they passed, sneaking into bathrooms at parties for a few minutes alone. they had sworn ethan and mark to secrecy when they had caught the two of them kissing. and trevor did everything in his power to keep his sister away from his friends, especially the hughes brothers. they were a real life romeo and juliet. 
jules giggled as luke kissed up her neck, her hands attempting to push him back. “lu, we can’t. my brother will be back soon and he will kill you if he found out.” she let out a breathy moan as he sucked lightly on her neck. “luke, please.” 
“i’m tired of hiding, baby. i just wanna kiss my girl and not have to worry about everyone finding out.” luke looked at her, a soft pout on his face. 
“trust me, i want nothing more than to show you off, but i can't if you're dead. just give me time to tell him.” luke frowned but nodded, placing another kiss on her neck. “luke.”
“alright, alright, i’m done.” he smirked, backing off. “for now.” jules blushed, pushing him away from her when the door to her apartment opened. 
“jules! luke! we're back!” trevor shouted, setting the pizzas on her counter.
“dude, we’re right here. you don't need to shout.” jules glared at her brother as jack and quinn walked in behind him. “the fuck you lookin’ at?” jules raised an eyebrow to jack who had a weird look on his face.
“is that a hickey?” he asked, pointing to the bruise forming on her neck. she gave him a harsh glare, knowing what he was up to. jack had walked in on luke and jules cuddling the day prior, and he had been trying to get them to tell trevor ever since. “are you blushing?” jules stood up, shoving past jack to grab a slice of pizza. 
“i don't know what you’re talking about.” she didn’t meet the eyes of her brothers and friends as she made her way back to her spot on the couch.
“jules, what is he talking about? let me see.” trevor tried to get a look at the hickey, but jules pushed him away, smacking him upside the back of his head. “ow, what the hell?”
“fuck off, trev. it's just a hickey, you act like you haven’t ever given someone a hickey!” she argued, her blush giving away the embarrassment she was feeling. “i’ve had it a few days, clearly you are oblivious.”
“you didn’t have it yesterday.” jack stated, his mouth full of pizza. trevor whipped around to jack, ready to interrogate his best friend. quinn sat beside luke, the two watching it go down. luke was glaring at his brother, giving him the ‘cut it out’ motion as he did. 
“how do you know?” trevor looked to jack, a suspicious look on his face. “i swear, jack, if you gave her the hickey–”
“first of all, ew. second of all, jack doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“what do you mean ew? please, you wanna get with me, don’t even deny it.” jules rolled her eyes, going to retort when trevor interrupted them.
“hold up, do you know who gave her the hickey?” 
“trev, i’m in college. why are you so surprised that i have a hickey?” jules was doing her best to defer the conversation, but trevor was persistent. “just let it go.”
“i’ll let it go when you tell me.” jules huffed out a laugh at his words. “come on, jules, just tell me!”
“no! jesus, trev, it isn’t that big of a deal.” jules took a bite of her pizza, glancing at luke. he was silent, avoiding eye contact with her and trevor.
“dude, just let her be. i wanna watch a movie and i can’t if you fuckers keep arguing.” quinn intervened, tired of the pointless arguing. jules looked to quinn with a grateful look in her eye, earning a slight nod. 
“fine, but we aren’t finished talking about this, jules.” she rolled her eyes, grabbing the remote from her coffee table to turn on a movie. 
“yeah, whatever.” jules clicked on a random movie, glancing to luke once more.
“dude, why do you keep looking at luke?” trevor asked, his face dropping when he realized. “oh my god, it was luke wasn’t it?” luke’s face flushed and he began to stutter as he tried to tell him otherwise. “oh my god!” 
“trevor, wait before you get mad–” jules started, her face incredibly red.
“of all my friends, you chose luke?” 
“hey! why’d you say it like that?” luke asked, an offend look on his face. “you say that like i’m a bad kid or something. be glad it's me and not jack!” jack began to choke on his pizza, glaring at luke as he coughed.
“fuck you, moose. i’m a great guy!” jules burst out laughing at his statement, stopping when she saw the look on trevor’s face.
“trevor, please. just listen before you kill him.”
“kill me?” luke’s voice squeaked, his eyes wide.
“hush, luke.” luke looked to quinn wide eyed, jules moved closer to luke, putting herself between luke and trevor. “listen, trev, he treats right, okay? and he is super sweet, and funny, and hot. and he treats me right, and that’s all that should matter.” jules spoke quickly, her face flushed as she spoke. “i like him, trev, like really, really like him. hell, i love him!” she clamped a hand over her mouth at her confession. her eyes darted to luke, the only sound in the room being the tv as everyone stared at her, eyes wide. “wait–”
“you love me?” jules’ fight or flight kicked and she ran out the door of her apartment. she hadn't even realized she was running until she was outside her complex, the winter air nipping at her skin. she felt her chest tighten, panic coursing through her veins. she hadn’t meant to say that, at least not yet. she sat on the cold pavement attempting to catch her breath. “j?” she whipped her head toward luke, shocked he had followed her out.
“lu–” luke sat beside her, placing a hand on her cheek and drawing her lips to his. 
“i love you, jules zegras. so goddamn much.” luke said, after pulling back from her. she gripped the front of his shirt in her fist, a goofy smile on her lips.
“god, you are so hot.” 
“oh, i know.” he laughed when she hit him. she kissed him once more, before pulling him up with her. 
“we should probably go talk to trevor. he’s probably planning your murder.”
“ehh, i wouldn't be so sure about that.” jules looked at him, confused. he led her back up to her apartment, opening the door. inside, shouting could be heard.
“dude, we’re going to be brothers-in-law!” jack shouted, shaking trevor by his shoulders. “aren’t you excited?”
“yes, i am. i don’t think quinn is though.” jules and luke walked in further, looking to quinn who had a dead stare on his face, looking as though he wanted to die.
“you good, quinny?” jules asked, looking to the oldest hughes.
“how could you do this to me?”
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wraithlafitte · 4 months
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you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
590 notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 4 months
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Title: slice of life
Fandom: apothecary diaries
Pairing Jinshi x maomao + baby reader
Warnings: child reader, baby reader, fluff, cute, platonic (obviously), slice of life
Notes: none
☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️
(name) gave a big stretch as he was held by his mom, maomao having the babe in her lap as she went over papers, the once commoner now wife of the Emperor's brother was pleased that she could continue doing what she loved though she did have to stop ingesting poisons for her beloved son who loved being helpful in his own way, the Apothecary often gave him little toy versions of her tools so he could learn even if he was only eight months.
"Let's go see your papa, yes?" Maomao said to her son, a warmness she didn't extend to many people-- hell her own husband didn't even get that level of warmness unless it was on special occasion.
It was strange for people to see her dressed as someone of such high class, her old friends bowing at her with a smile as she went to look for her husband. Everyone looked at (name) fondly, recently the boy had learned to wave and decided that everyone needed to be waved at no matter what class, maomao smiling softly at the boys antics "you are just like your father" her words fond as the boy patted her face, he had his smile that was for sure.
Jinshi was absolutely thrilled to see the two "you came to see me~" he teased and maomao kept a passive Expression "no, we were just passing by" a total lie but it was enough to make the other pout in annoyance before gently taking (name) and holding him close, letting the boy hold his finger in his tiny hand and doted on the babe who babbled, maomao would rather die than admit she found the scene absolutely heartwarming. (Name) loved his parents, the two always gave their full attention to him and included him in many things.
"I was thinking of having him visit my father..." Maomao said absentmindedly as the babe tried grabbing his dad's hair "you wanna see your grandpa, little one?" (Name) perked up at the mention of 'grandpa' and began bouncing slightly "eeea!" He squealed and that was their answer "I'll make the necessary preparations, maybe we can visit him on our way to our holiday, yes?"
Jinshi kept his face hidden, the babe confused but didn't cry or anything when seeing his father look strange "dad! We're here" the older man looked up from his grinding stone to see his grandson smack his little hands together and reach from maomao to him "my, you grown" he mused and took the boy "you look just like my maomao" he whispered to the boy as the two parents watched, Jinshi had taken it upon himself to get maomaos adoptive father a better living situation, upgrade some stuff for the apothecary.
"He's been figuring out walking, soon he will be all over the place" jinshi said fondly and the older man chuckled "Maomao was a speedy baby, she would want to see everything"
They stayed for half hour, having tea the Jinshi brought for his father in law as (name) munched on a small tiny portion of a treat, resting on his mother's chest content.
"He's so peaceful when he's eating" jinshi teased his son who barely paid attention, focused on his tiny bit of honey as his mom fixed his hair "he will surely cause chaos when he's older, like his father"
"Hey!"
(Name) paid the adults no mind as he glanced around, the home always warmer when they were always together, the boy sliding down from his mom's hold when he spotted his toys, crawling towards them happily "he's growing fast" the two parents felt their hearts warm at their little one who played so sweetly "he's going to be quite a good man when he's older" (name) turned his little butt around to see his parents before surprising everyone, standing shakily in his two little chunky legs and attempting to walk to maomao with his little "I want food" whine "my, were going to have to lock things away it seems" maomao teased as (name) smacked her chest lightly with a huff "I think this is our queue to leave" jinshi said as maomao hugged her dad, taking little (name) out of the home, a much nicer one as a "thank you for letting me marry your daughter" gift.
"Mama!" (Name) said angrily as they got in the carriage "yesyes, you little brat" she teased as jinshi watched.
He was definitely his father's son.
303 notes · View notes
thetriumphantpanda · 2 months
Text
i don't really wanna fight, 'cause nobody's gonna win | javier peña
Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Eight
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Chapter Summary | A little slice of domesticity wasn't ever going to be enough to cover the stress of the story unfolding on your desk, but it was worth a shot right?
Chapter Warnings | Mentions of drugs and the drug trade, work frustrations, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie, dirty talk, we ride this man like our LIFE depends on it and some ANGST (I'm sorry, it had to happen sometime.)
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | OOOOOF okay we're back with these two. Real life has been kicking my ass so I'm sorry this took so long - but we're moving into the tail end of this now so prepare yourselves for even more drama! Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting for this - I hope you enjoy it. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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The words on the deed to the drug den in town are all forming into one - you’re not actually sure they’re in the English language anymore. You’ve been staring at the pages for what feels like a full week, even if you’d only spread them out for reading on your desk this morning. You don’t know what to do. There is, of course, the obvious option, of walking right up to their front door and asking what the hell is going on, but the more you dig, the more you think there’s something bigger going on here.
You pour over your notes, trying to make sense of it all. It was nothing to do with Tyler Johnson, but it had something to do with his family, that was for sure. There’s no way that this whole thing would have been brushed under the rug and dealt with by the police saying ‘oh well, we don’t know’ if there wasn’t something incriminating behind it all. You tried not to think about that possibly meaning your dad was implicated somewhere along the line.
Instead of sitting around and feeling useless, considering the words on the page weren’t leading you anywhere at all, you tidy up your desk, stick your head around your managers door to tell her you were heading out for the story, and you get in your car and drive.
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They lead such dull lives, is all you can really think at this point. The sun is setting and it’s finally starting to cool a little. The thought process had been simple, if you weren’t going to catch them in the act on paper, you would have to catch them in the act for real - whatever that act might be.
You’d started with Tyler’s dad, following behind him as he went about mayoral business, driving from his office to some meeting in town and then back again. You’d waited an hour in the parking lot to see if he moved again, but gave up after a while. Deciding on following Tyler’s brother instead - but he’d been more of the same. You’d found him getting into his car at work once the day was done, driving to the grocery store and then going home. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Thinking about it, what would you even do if you did find them doing something? Tyler’s brother getting a package handed to him down a dark alley - there’s no way to get any proof, you don’t have a camera, and no-one’s going to believe you against them. The more you sit there, the more you think maybe you should have taken the story at face value, published it and moved on.
You suppose that these kinds of operations take time and patience - two things you were running seriously low on by now. You’re thinking of all the time’s Javi must have needed to do this - sitting around in a car waiting to catch someone doing something and wondered how he’d lasted so long. You weren’t made for this kind of work.
Sighing to yourself, you turn the key in the ignition and head home, trying not to let the frustration bubble over. You just had to wait. Bide your time. Surely somewhere along the line you’d catch someone doing something.
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“You look stressed.”
You look at Javi through your eyelashes, taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of you on the counter. Your parents were taking their two week annual vacation - some place near the coast in Florida. You remember going when you were little, playing in the sand and swimming. They’d invited you this year but now you were older, it didn’t hold quite the same amount of charm as it used to, so you’d opted to stay at home.
The upside to not getting to lounge in the sun for two weeks was definitely this though. Javier Peña, hunched over the hob, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, cooking dinner for you. It was dangerous to think about how domestic it was, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. There was no-one to lie to about why you were late home from work for now, no need to rush through whatever it was that the two of you were doing.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t need to be sorry,” He smiles at you, picking up his beer bottle to drink from, “You want to talk about it?”
You shake your head, “It’s alright, just stuff at work.”
“In all my years of working with journalists,” He speaks, stirring the pot of sauce in front of him, “I don’t think any of them were ever as stressed as you.”
“I just care about my work.”
“So did they,” He counters, picking a strand of spaghetti from the pot to test to see if it’s cooked, “Just trying to say there isn’t a story out there worth getting this worked up over.”
“I appreciate it,” You mumble, “But can we not talk about work?”
He holds his hands up in surrender, focusing his attention on dishing up the food - spaghetti with tomato sauce. It’s simple and you know it’s probably the limit of his cooking ability outside of being able to grill meat on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. You sit at the dining table and eat together, talking about nothing really, just enough to fill the silence. Even though he cooked, he insists on clearing up and packaging the leftovers for you to eat tomorrow.
You sit and watch TV on the couch and when it gets late enough and your head starts to rest on his shoulder, Javi asks if you want to go to bed.
“I do,” You answer, “But not to sleep.”
So he slowly leads you up the stairs and into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You settle yourself under your sheets, pushing them back on the other side for him as he takes off everything he’s wearing apart from his underwear and gets into bed with you. He shuffles you around so your back in pressed to his front, his big hands wandering from your hips up to your chest, where he gently cups one of your tits in his hands over the shirt you’re wearing.
You can feel his mouth trailing kissing up your shoulder until he reaches the delicate skin behind your ear, the tickle of his facial hair there making goosebumps rise on your skin, regardless of how warm it is under your sheets.
“What do you want?” He whispers softly, snaking his free arm under your neck so the side of your face is pillowed against it.
You don’t answer, you just take hold of his wrist, dragging his hand from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. You let his hand go then, feeling his big palm cup you through the material, “Like this?” He asks, teeth nipping at your ear lobe.
“No,” You shake your head, “Under.”
That big hand drags up just a little, fingers finding the waistband again, dipping below this time. He tuts into your ear when he finds you bare, having not bothered with underwear when you’d changed out of your work clothes.
His hand is warm against your skin as it envelops you again, fingers dipping ever so slightly between the folds of your pussy to find you already wet, it doesn’t take much at all when he’s around.
Fingers dragging through the slick, up to circle your clit, he speaks again, “Like this?” He asks, feather-light touches of his fingers making you gasp.
“Y-yeah,” You choke out, “Just like that.”
So that’s what he does - let’s you rest your head against his arm, lazily rolling his finger across that bundle of nerves like he has all the time in the world for making you feel good. It’s slow, the only punctuation to his fingers are the moans he lets out into your ear whenever he pushes his hips against the plush of your ass, his bulge prominent against the clothes that are separating you.
“I want you to come for me,” He whispers gently a little while later, teeth biting gently into the skin of your shoulder, “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”
You nod your head, unable to speak through the short, sharp gasps that the friction between your legs is drawing out from you. He speeds up a little, lets his finger add more pressure there. He lets you roll your hips, chasing at the high that is just there, coiling in your tummy. Your body starts to shake, thighs clamping down on his hands as he brings you over the edge.
“Fuck yeah,” He rasps into your ear, “So fucking pretty when you come for me, mi querida.”
Through the haze of pleasure, you can feel him rolling you over, pressing your back into the sheets. He’s settling between your thighs, pulling your shorts off altogether, but you don’t want it like this, so you press a palm to his warm chest to stop him.
“I want…” You trail off, “I think I want to be on top.”
You watch his eyebrows raise a little but he doesn’t protest, because of course he doesn’t, he simply lies himself back down on his side of the bed and waits for you. You let yourself straddle his thighs, marvelling just a little at the bulge of his underwear, before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband to drag them just far enough down his thighs to let his cock spring free, resting on his lower stomach.
Shuffling up his thighs a little, you lower yourself, letting your soaked folds drag across his length whilst your mouth moves up to suckle at the skin of his neck. You can feel his hands on the globes of your ass, helping to drag you up and down his cock.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks as you moan when the head of his cock brushes against your still-sensitive clit.
You don’t have any words, so you press yourself up, palms against his chest as you lift your hips just enough for him to reach between you, base of his cock fisted in his hand, to nudge at the weeping hole of your cunt. He holds it there for you as you slowly start to sink down onto him, moaning with your head thrown back at the stretch of taking him inside. When you reach the bottom, feeling him sucked right into the depths of you, you stay still, rolling your hips a little, feeling him so deep inside you.
Javi brings his hands to your hips, looking up at you as he guides your movements, slow forwards movements matched with even slower movements backwards, until the two of you are panting together.
You push yourself back, letting your arms fall behind you onto his knees, which have come up to rest against your backside, slowly starting to lift off him until he’s almost all the way out of the tight heat of your cunt, then you slide back down onto him, finding a rhythm of bouncing up and down on his cock.
Javi moves one of his hands from your hips, letting the flat palm run up your stomach, through the valley of your tits to lightly grip at the base of your neck. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holds his hand there, but you can feel the effect it has on you, pussy clenching around his length as you continue to bounce up and down on him.
“Look so fucking pretty like this,” He manages to choke out between moans, “Like you were made to be right here bouncing on my cock.”
“I-I think I’m g-gonna come again.” You hiss, feeling that familiar tightening in your tummy.
“Yeah?” He goads, but not unkindly, “You gonna come around my cock for me?”
To help you get there, Javi starts to thrust up into you, hand still at the base of your neck, hitting into your perfectly on your downward motion to fill you right to your depths, making your orgasm hit you head on. You feel yourself tighten around him, body collapsing forward to rest against his chest as he fucks you through the aftershocks of your climax, gripping onto your ass to keep you spread so he can find his own high, thrusting a handful of times before he’s stilling inside you, spilling himself inside with moans right into your ear.
He slips out of you as he softens, shifting you so you’re led down, both catching your breath.
“Sorry, I should have asked about that.” He mumbles, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s talking about coming inside you.
“It’s okay,” You say, turning your head to smile at him, “Although it does mean I have to go to the bathroom now.”
You drag yourself up onto all fours onto your bed, dragging yourself to the door to cover yourself in your robe before you leave Javi in your room to head to the bathroom.
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He doesn’t know why he does it. In hindsight, it was out of order, but when you close the door behind you, he can’t help himself. He stands up, pulls his underwear back up and puts the rest of his clothes back on. Then he sits down on your edge of the bed and gingerly opens the top drawer of your bedside table.
There’s nothing much of note in there, a few lip balms and an old notebook, but that’s it. He opens the bottom one next, which is much more full, mainly with notebooks and sheets of paper. He knows he shouldn’t, but he reaches in and picks the first up, flicking it open to a random page somewhere in the middle, running his thumb across a loose sheet of paper before his eyes circle in on what the paper actually is.
It’s a newspaper article, reporting on Escobar’s death. When Javi looks underneath the paper there are notes written in your handwriting, detailing parts of the story that are interesting. He flicks to another page, another article about Escobar dying, with more of your handwritten notes. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to take hold of his throat.
He puts that notebook on the bed, reaches in and picks another up, flicking through to find more of the same - articles about the entire Escobar case, more handwritten notes - some written in red ink that only ever say his name with a question mark, like you’re asking yourself if he was responsible for the ill-reported heroics. Javi is too caught up in flicking through that he forgets about your return, letting you catch him red-handed when you come back through the door.
“What are you doing?” You ask, making him look up.
Your eyes are wide, like you’re shocked to find him with your notebooks in his lap.
“What’s all this?” He asks, instead of answering your question.
You surge forward, grabbing the notebook from his lap, slapping it shut, picking up the other one and then shoving them back in the drawer, “Did you go through my things?” He can tell from your tone that you’re worked up.
“Why do you have all of that?” Javi asks, standing up from the bed to take some steps away from you.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Well then tell me what it is.” He’s getting more annoyed as the moments go past.
“It was for my degree,” You say, shifting from foot-to-foot, “I don’t understand what the problem is?”
“The problem is, it’s all fucking lies!” He runs a hand over his face, more annoyed at himself for shouting at you than anything else, “It’s all fucking lies and you believe it.”
He watches as your face drops, he can see the glassing over of your eyes, “I-” You try to speak, “I’m sorry?” It’s more of an offering, like you don’t know what else to do.
“All of that shit?” He asks, pointing to the now closed drawer, “Fucking propaganda for this country to seem like it had control, when all it fucking did was make everything worse.”
“Javi, please,” You beg now, taking a step towards him with your hands open in surrender, “Why don’t you sit down and take a breath?”
He can feel himself shaking his head, stepping backwards until he can feel the handle of your door, twisting it to open. He thinks he’s saying sorry, telling you that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and away from you, almost running from the house and into his truck.
It’s not until he’s halfway to home that he can feel that panic take over, pulling over on the side of the road, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. He takes some deep breaths, trying to understand why his brain has gone from 0-100 so quickly, and all he can think of is that you’re just like everyone else in this damn town, thinking that he was a hero, that he’d played his part properly, correctly, in bringing that bastard down. I’d the wondering about what you’d think of him if you knew what he’d really done, the amount of blood actually on his hands, the fact he wasn’t here there when Murphy shot the bastard.
It’s that feeling of inadequacy that haunt him in bed that night, led against the pillows, other side cold and empty when all he wishes is that he’d stayed, let you curl into him so that he could get at least a few hours of rest. Even though he never stays the night, always leaving you with a press of lips to your head, the small hours of the morning where you’re sleeping against him are the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever had.
So, staring at his ceiling, red numbers from his clock staring him down as the hours pass, all he can think about it what the fuck he’s going to do, how he’s going to explain that this has nothing to do with you and what it had to do with your degree, and everything to do with the way he thinks if you knew exactly what had happened, outside of what the American press has told you, you’d probably hate him.
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dragon-kazansky · 18 days
Text
Heart of the Dreaming
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Morpheus x Female Reader
Soulmate AU
You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Chapter Five - What we are
☆☆☆
You hated it. It felt so wrong. Hell was not quite what you expected it to be, but that seemed worse to you. What you hated most is that your apparent soulmate has brought you here. If so much as cared even a little bit, why would he bring you to Hell?
Perhaps you're seeing the man he is.
"So, this is Hell." Matthew caws.
"It had many names. Avernus, Tartarus, Hades, the infernal region you call Hell." Dream lists off.
"Can we get this over with, please? I don't want to be here any longer than we need to be." You glare softly at him. You want Dream to know you hate this.
He doesn't even look at you. He walls off without a word, and you scoff lightly. He doesn't even have the decency to speak to you. Matthew hurries after him with his little legs. You follow behind, slowly.
The path eventually leads you to a gate. All around the gate are people groaning. They're a part of the wall, unable to go anywhere. You really don't like it.
"We're not going in with them?" Matthew asks, looking st the damned who just passed through the gate.
"A king may not enter another monarch's realm uninvited," Dream says. "There are rules, protocols, that must be followed."
"You're... a king?" You ask, eyeing him. You know very little about this man.
"Yes."
Off to the side of the gate is a gong. You watch Dream approach, and one of the figures in the wall reaches out to hand him the mallet. Dream takes it and hits the gong. The souls all groan due to the noise.
You turn to the gate when you hear someone approaching.
"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation." A heavy voice speaks from the other side.
A demon appears, and you find yourself taking a step back. Dream glances back at you. You pretend for a moment that's he's doing it out of concern.
"Is it thief, thug, or whore? There's one at the door. And there's room for one more. Till the end of creation."
"Greetings, Squatterbloat." Morpheus speaks. "I seek an audience with your sovereign."
"And who might you be?" The demon asks.
"I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms."
"Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown?"
Morpheus scoffs softly. "Guard your tongue demon. The ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honoured guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own."
"So, where's your ruby?"
"Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too?" Morpheus asks. "Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through?"
The demon opens the gates.
"Now, take us to the palace."
You swallow nervously. Dream turns back around to you and stares at you. You're starting to hate that stare. He turns back around and walks forward. Matthew glances up at you, but you ignore him slowly follow Dream.
Squatterbloat starts leading the way. Morpheus follows the demon. You follow behind them both quietly. Matthew hops along by your feet. You can feel him looking up at you every so often, but you ignore him. You know he has questions.
"Where are we?" You ask after a while. You find yourselves in the middle of a foggy woodland. You can't see very far in front of you.
"The landscape is subject to the whims of the Morningstar."
"Morningstar...? As in...?"
"Yes." Morpheus glances at you.
Lucifer. Of course you knew. You never really believed in such things, but you supposed as you got older, the idea of Lucifer and Hell did seem likely. Especially after your father died. Was he down here somewhere? Probably.
"Are you afraid?" Morpheus asks.
"No."
He doesn't believe you. You can tell just by the way he looks at you. However, he offers no sort of comfort and reassurance. He simply turns around and avoids looking at you anymore. He doesn't speak again for a little while. Not until Squatterbloat is leading you up a strange twisted tower.
"Does this seem like the way to you?" You ask, looking up at him.
"A demon has a hundred motives for anything he does. All of them malevolent. Demon," he adresses Sqautterbloat, "this is not the way."
The demon chuckles.
Morpheus moves to follow him but is stopped by a voice. "Kai'ckul."
You both turn to the prison cell beside you. You stare in awe at the woman inside. You don't know who she is, but she certainly knows the man you're with.
"Dream Lord? It is you." She looks so happy to see him.
"I greet you, Nada." He speaks to her, appearing as he did to her all those years ago.
"How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come." She tears up.
You glimpse at the demon. He did this on purpose. You frown slightly. What ws this? Who was this? Why did Dream look so... pained?
"It pains me to see you like this."
"Then, free me, Lord." Nada says. "Only your forgiveness can free me. Do you not still love me?" She cries.
"It had been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes. I still love you. But I have not forgiven you." Dream tells her.
Morpheus continues walking. You slowly follow him, looking at the woman as you pass by.
"Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope." Nada calls out. "I will never give up."
"Who was that?" You ask.
"Someone."
You sigh softly. He was so vague, and it was annoying. You hated not having answers. He brought you down to Hell and couldn't even be bothered, bringing you up to speed. If this is how he was going to be, you would rather not bother hanging about with him. Soulmate or not.
The silence grows heavy as you both walk. You feel like he won't talk to you anymore, but his voice surprises you when you hear it next.
"Her name is Nada. We were lovers."
You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you. You were curious about this new information. He's had lovers before? Of course he has.
"Why is she here?"
"I put her here."
You stop walking and stare at him in shock. He realises you've stopped following him and turns to you slowly. His eyes pierce you.
"You put her here?"
He remains silent.
"How can you do that? What did she do?" You ask.
Morpheus knows you're not going to drop this subject. Of course you won't. He came to your rescue and immediately brought you along to come fetch his tools. You're full of questions.
"She said no to me."
You scoff. "She said no, and you had imprisoned in Hell for eternity?"
He once again remains silent.
"Is that what you do? You fall in love with people, and if they say no, you cast them aside? How can you do that? Don't you care about people, Dream Lord? Is this what I have to look forward to?"
His expression seems to change, but only slightly. He wasn't expecting you to ask that of all things.
"No."
"No? So I can go after all this?"
He goes silent. He knows you mean to refuse him and leave his side, but how can he possibly let you go now that he's found you? He can't.
"We must go." He turns back around and walks away. You can only follow him. He's your only way out of this horrible place.
Yet, you find it hard to hide how you're feeling. He can tell you're upset.
Squatterbloat leads you up a hill and then stops. He turns and walks away, leaving you and Morpheus alone. Just beyond is the castle of Lucifer Morningstar.
The road to the castle is long and narrow.
The castle is huge. The gates open. Blood pools out from the opening. You step back as it comes close to your feet. Dream seems unfazed by this morbid display. He walks onward, taking the lead. Morpheus leads you through the dark cavernous halls.
"So... we're going to see Lucifer?" You all softly.
"Only Lucifer can find me the demon who has my helm."
"You do realise how terrifying all of this I'd for me, right? None of this normal. I'm so... lost and afraid."
Dream says nothing, and you fear he never will. He's not exactly a warm and loving person. Why did the universe see it fit to stick you with him? What made you so special that you were bonded to the man kf dreams?
You follow him into an open room. A fire is lit on the centre, and Lucifer themself stands overlooking their kingdom. You feel nerves setting in. Morpheus comes to a stop and clasps his hands together. You stay behind Dream a little, almost hiding.
Lucifer turns around.
"Hello." Lucifer walks closer, never once looking away from Dream. Once in front of Morpheus, Lucifer stops. "Hello, Dream."
"Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar."
"You look well, Dream. Are you well?" Lucifer asks. "And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?"
Morpheus scoffs in amusement. "I presume the Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call."
"Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"
"You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer."
You look up at Morpheus.
"Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals." Lucifer says.
You swallow nervously. That was all because of your family. Your father. Despite everything, you wished none of it had happened. Dream never should have been captured.
"We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus."
"I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me." He states. "I believe one of your demons has it. I should like it back. Now."
"Dream, if only it were that easy. But there are rules, you see." Protocols which must be followed."
You feel uneasy, and you think Morpheus can sense it.
"Which demon has your helm?" Lucifer asks. "Name it, and we will bring it here."
"I confess I do not know the name." Morpheus tells Lucifer.
Lucifer stands on the balcony overlooking their kingdom. "Then we will have to summon all of them."
Lucifer takes Morpheus to the balcony and summons all the demons of Hell. You inhale sharply through your nose, trying not to be too obvious about how afraid you were. The most shocking part of it all was Dream placing his hand on yours. You look up at him, but he does not look at you.
"There, now, Dream, you may inquire. Which Demon has your helmet? Shall we interview them one at a time, or..."
"That won't be necessary," he tells Lucifer. Morpheus steps away from the balcony and lets go of your hand. You had been somewhat comforting his touch, but now the fear settles in your bones once more now that he has let go.
"It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied on your tools. But tools are the subtlest of traps."
Morpheus stops.
"We become reliant upon them, and in their absence, we are vulnerable, weak defenseless."
"Not entirely." Morpheus reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pouch of sand. "I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell, and now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me."
You watch him curiously. He kneels down and begins to pour the sand onto the polished ground. It swirls around until a figure appears. A demon holding his helmet.
Morpheus stands and faces the demon. "Tell me your name, demon."
"Do I have to tell him?" The demon asks.
"That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell." Lucifer speaks for him.
"Choronzon... The Helm is mine. You must return it to me."
"No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws. And if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it... or trade it." Choronzon looks at you.
You feel a chill run down your spine.
Lucifer smiles. "Ah, the woman."
"No." Morpheus says. "She is not up for trade."
You look up at him. He was protecting you. At least he wasn't offering you up. That would have for worse.
"Then a fight it is." Choronzon states, looking at the Dream Lord.
"Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon."
The demon chuckles. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."
"If I win, you will return my helmet."
"And if you lose," Choronzon looks at you again, "I get both the helmet and the girl."
Morpheus' eyes narrow. "That's not part of the deal."
"It is now," Lucifer confirms.
You look at Morpheus with fear. Lucifer is suddenly behind you and grabs your wrist. You gasp softly at the cold touch of their hand. Lucifer is looking at your scar.
"Interesting. A soulmate bond."
Dream keeps his head held high as he watches Lucfier. He doesn't like the way Lucifer is just touching you in front of him.
"Your soulmate, I presume." Lucifer smiles. "I wasn't aware the Endless had such things."
"She is not part of this deal." Morpheus states.
"It's all or nothing, Dream Lord," Choronzon remarks.
Morpheus stares at the demon with a steel gaze. He can not afford to lose. Not this game. "I accept the terms."
You feel fear in your veins. Morpheus has just added you to the deal. Were you really so easy to trade? He was heartless. You were certain of it.
"And whom will you choose to represent you in battle?" Lucifer asks him.
"I shall represent myself."
"Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?"
"Hmm... I choose you, sire."
Morpheus realises what he is up against and knows he can not afford to lose. He does not dare meet your eyes as Lucifer comes up behind him, dressed in attire fitting for this battle.
"Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion."
"I have accepted the terms."
Morpheus changed his clothes for battle. He looked good. Very good. However, that was the least of your worries right now. Your whole existence was in his hands.
"Let the challenge begin."
You feel your heart racing in your chest and hope that with all you have, Morpheus can beat Lucifer. You have to believe that this bond meant something more to him. After all, why would he bother rescuing you from your family home if he did not care a little?
There had to be more to your purpose to him. Though, you can't help thinking about Nada. We're you destined to join her here in Hell?
What kind of man was Dream. You're not sure you could figure him out.
☆☆☆
@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker
@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic
@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @star-maker-rain-dancer - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda
@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever
@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 - @hopshusushi -
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hirsheyskisses · 9 months
Text
OP Boys: Special Hugs (03)
Kid & Killer
(Short Scenarios)
WARNING: Kidd's part gets a lil NSFW. no need done, but suggestive.
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Eustass "Captain" Kid.
♥︎ let's get one thing straight
♥︎ he doesn't do "hugs"
♥︎ no see he does this really creepy staring thing from a distance. He practically SENSES when you're in the room with him, and he turns his head and stares.
♥︎ he thinks he's subtle but he's really not
♥︎ what, you broke a knife? Here, have 20 more he made himself for this exact occasion. Why are you looking at him so weird? YOUR OLD KNIVES WERE TRASH ANYWAYS HIS ARE BETTER >:(
♥︎ also, weirdly specific way of flirting with insults that are actually compliments
♥︎ yeah, that energy.
♥︎ but fate leads to the weirdest shit, so..
"....a fucking sea-stone box."
"I tried to tell ya, Cap'n.."
Taking a look at your situation, there was no avoiding it. Your Captain just didn't listen to reason, it wasn't in his blood. Now, you were cramped against his chest in a tiny, sea stone box, that was only ever intended to hold him.
Not an extra human.
"Quit your damn squirmin." Kid grunted, flesh arm wrapping around you. It was pitch black, so neither of you knew where body parts were until you felt them out. "Tryna give you more room.." you muttered. Currently, you were awkwardly pressed against him: head just above his, hands on his shoulders, and legs resting on his. "No, you're tryna shove your tits into my face."
You could almost see the smirk with his words, "If I wanted my tits in your face, they'd be there! Now hush and let me move," you slowly twisted your body, hand grabbing his thigh for balance. His hand danced up your waist, half helping you turn your back to him.
"If I do this, you'll have more leg room." Which is something you figured he desperately needed, being damn near 6'5 and built like a tank, yet again, cramped in a tiny box that was sucking his energy.
"Mhm.. yeah. Yer gropin' my thigh, sweetie. 'S much as I love the energy, a box ain't the place we're gonna do this." You tightened your grip, chuckling out of pure annoyance: this absolute and utter piece of work-
"...Captain, for the love of all that's holy, shut the fuck up- please."
"So polite." He snickered, his lips now right next to your ear.
You successfully had your back against his chest now, knees brought up to your own, and dropped your head on them. You could hear Kid chuckling softly, his arm wrapping around your middle.
"The hell are you doing?" "Mmmmmmm...." He groaned in your ear.
Heat rushed up to your face. "What the hell?!" "Ya smell good." "Yeah well you smell like fuckin sweat so-"
He drew you closer, dropping his head ontop of yours, "when we get out of here.. so will you."
Long story short, if Kid had known what it'd take to get you so flustered and in his arms was to put you both in a cramped space.. well, let's just say this isn't the last time.
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"Massacre Solider" Killer
• it takes a lot for Killer to get touchy Feely.
• Contrare to his captain's kinda horny love, his is, way more subtle. (Mostly because, thanks to the mask, you can't see him watching you.)
• when he decides he wants to try himself with you, he starts popping up. Everywhere.
• You're genuinely surprised he hasn't popped up while you're showering at this point
• however, Killer does have a weakness, being from the south blue. And that's the cold.
• see, you're from the north blue. You're used to it.. and so..
"...you're bundled up-"
"And youre.. not."
You quirked a brow, eyeing your Vice Captain. He was currently dressed in three of the puffiest jackets you'd ever laid eyes on, an ear flap hat over his mask, gloves, and the fuzziest pants ever. Meanwhile, you were dressed in a simple jacket, boots, regular jeans, and gloves.
"Ya look.. fluffy." You could almost swear he was still shivering a bit. "...Killer, you can head back inside. I've got the watch."
He shook his head, "'s better to have two people on watch." "In some cases, sure, but when the second person is so cold they're dressed like an old lady.."
You watched the blonde tense, "...I don't understand how you're not cold." You snickered, shaking your head. Snow was beginning to fall from the sky- you'd long since entered a winter biome. "I am cold, but not that cold."
"You're insane." "I think the same about you South Blue folk in the heat. North Blue folk are built for the cold."
Killer shook his head again, joining you in leaning over the rail.
"...you've been out here for a while. Let me take over." Killer said. He was right, but if he was the next in line.. "Thanks, killer, but I'll stay out here with you."
"Go inside. You're not dressed properly for this cold."
"Did you not listen to a word of what I just said- I'm built for this-"
"Did you not listen to what your Vice Captain just told you?"
"Sorry, don't see him. I do see a cold, stubborn child." You were careful not to use the term kid.
"."
"..."
"......"
"You're worse than Kid."
"I'll take that at face value and be insulted."
He sighed, "impossible."
A few hours later, you both were switching shifts with Heat and Wire. Walking into the kitchen, you stretched, watching Killer de-layer by the fire. A smirk tugged at your lips as you approached the masked man from behind, staring over his shoulder.
"The caterpillar emerges from its cocoon!" "Shut." He grumbled, removing his gloves last. His hands looked tenser than usual, likely because of the cold. So hatched your master plan of..
Grabbing his hands, and engulfing them with your own, and lifting them both to rest at your neck. Because of his mask, you couldn't see what he felt: but oh, if you could, this man was panicking.
Finally, he mustered, "...you're a human heater."
"That I am! Besides, neck, underarms, and .. between the thighs are the warmest part on any human. Thought you'd know that."
Silence. His fingers flexed and tightened at your shoulders, before, without warning, he had you picked up and thrown over his shoulder, stalking down the halls.
"EH? KILLER-" before you knew it, he'd thrown open the door to his room, tossed you on the bed, and quickly yanked a blanket over you both, snuggling into bed without even taking his boots off.
"...do I wann-" "...you're my personal heater. So sleep."
Well, he's wanted to do that for a while regardless.. holding you in his arms, lay on top of you.. the occasion was just too perfect not to throw rank around a bit.
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talaok · 1 year
Note
hi bestie, hope you’re doing good <3 can i request something please? hear me out on this one aaaa
pedro and actress!reader are co-stars and there’s a pool table around one of their sets, she mentioned that she doesn’t know how to play pool and he gladly makes it his mission to teach her how to play pool and she’s frustrated because he smells so good and he keeps whispering praises into her ear while he has her bent over the table LWIDJFNRNRMD and then they end up fucking back in her room hehe
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Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
Summary: a hot pool lesson with Pedro
Warnings: a bunch of shameless flirting, tension, dirty talk, and an obscene amount of pet-names, but no smut bc for some reason I've found I don't want to write smut for Pedro
a/n: girl...that's so fucking hot
"what!?" 
you laughed softly "I'm sorry alright, I've just never played!"
"not even once?"
"nope"
"what do you do when you go to a bar?"
"I drink?" 
He huffs a laugh "that's unbelievable"
"Maybe it's more a thing of your generation..." you teased, cocking a brow.
"oh yeah? You're saying I know how to play pool just 'cause I'm old, sweetheart?"
You bit down a grin "I didn't say anything, it was all you"
"mh-mh" he hummed amusedly, taking a step to get in front of you.
His broad figure towered over you completely.
"Well I won't have any of that, a pretty lady like you needs to know how to play"
"is that right?" you smiled
"Absolutely" he nodded, a smug smirk tugging at his lips "and you're in luck... I happen to be a very good teacher"
You laughed softy "I would have betted you were. You have a lot of expertise?" you said, fully aware of the suggestive undertone of your words. 
He bit his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours "I sure do, sugar" 
You had played with fire and now your cheeks regretted it, as a pink tint flowed to them.
"so what do you say we get a drink somewhere and I teach you a thing or two when we're done here?"
"I'd like that" you nodded a shy smile on your lips.
"It's decided then" he winked, as someone called for him " you better start getting your face game on sweetheart"
__ __ __
With a quick call, you found out the bar just in front of your hotel had a pool table, so as you had decided, once you had both finished for the day, at around six, you made your way there.
You felt a slight buzz of anxiety the whole day. This wasn't the first time you hung out alone, and it's not like you didn't like it, or him, hell, that was probably the problem, you liked this idea a bit too much, and were concerned with the possible consequences of what precisely that excitement could have brought.
But still, as you sipped on your wine, watching him set up all you needed to play, you had never felt so at ease.
He was always able to do that, just his presence soothed you.
"Alright," he said, standing up after having racked up the balls with a triangle thingy "We're set up," he said, handing you your stick.
"alright then professor, how does this work?" you asked playfully, causing him to grin.
"ok so first of all one of us has to break"
you frowned, confused "as in..."
"right" he smiled "The break it's the first shot, if you make a ball into a pocket, you claim that type for the rest of the game"
"ok" you nodded, feigning confidence. You already knew you were gonna be shit at this.
"You wanna try to break?" he asked, 
"Uhm, sure, but I think first you gotta tell me how to use this thing" you laughed softly, eyeing the wooden stick in your hand.
"Ok, first of all, that thing is called a cue," he said "and don't worry I'll guide you through it, sugar" he reassured you.
"Alright," you spoke softly "so what do I do?"
"ok, so first of all you bend over the table," he said, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.
"you're not even gonna buy me dinner first?" you joked, doing what he had instructed.
You heard the warm sound of his deep chuckle behind you "You have a dirty mind sweetheart" he shook his head, coming to stand behind you as you bent over. 
"ok, now try to aim for the center of the triangle with your cue"
"you tried but you quickly came to a realization "Pedro I have no idea how to hold this" You smiled
"that's not so bad" he spoke, eyeing your grip, "but here," he said, one of his hands guiding your fingers around the stick "that's better, you have to hold on to it tightly ok?" he said, and you nodded "while for this hand..." he trailed off, taking your left hand in his and positioning it how you were supposed to on the table "you have to hold it like this so that you can aim " he murmured.
His whole body was pressed against yours, his scent was intoxicating if not poisoning, and you could feel the warmth of his body as it followed the shape of yours.
Your heart started beating faster, and you had to bite your lip
“Try making a shot” he murmured again
“O-ok” you stuttered, mainly focusing on not moving any part of your body because that would have meant doing so against his.
You tried taking a shot, and as you could have probably predicted, failed miserably.
The ball didn’t even graze the other ones.
You laughed softly “shit”
He chuckled, the soft vibrations of his voice traveling straight to your ear “Don’t beat yourself up, it's your first time after all” he spoke, retrieving the ball before getting back to his previous position, his body and arms stretched out to guide yours.
God, was he distracting.
"ok now try again" he whispered gently, his hands leaving yours temporarily to move some hair out of your face. You blushed as your breathing quickened "You can do it sugar, try taking a deep breath"
That's easier said than done.
You tried nonetheless, attempting to clear your mind and trying again.
"that's it," Pedro smiled "That's a good girl"
fuckshitfuck
As embarrassing as it sounds, you could feel your panties grow wetter.
But I mean, did he have to whisper that into your ear? Not that you were complaining it's just... you weren't much of a fan of having all the oxygen taken out of your body with just two words.
He must have noticed something was wrong because he asked "You ok, sweetheart?"
"y-yeah, sorry" you smiled your tension away "So what happens now?"
he leaned up and took a step away from you, retrieving his own cue.
"now since you claimed the stripes balls," he said, taking the one you had made into a pocket out "I'm gonna play to make the other ones"
"ok" You nodded, "show me how it's done then, professor"
He analyzed the table before positioning himself to make a shot.
He glanced at you as he was in position "Ready?" he asked
"oh I'm ready" you teased.
He made the shot and made two balls like it was nothing.
"show-off" you joked, your lips pulling into a smile "So what now? You go again?"
He raised himself, his eyes locked on yours "Usually yes, but I want to help you out here, so why don't you go again?"
"fine, but not because I need your help" you clarified, deciding on what ball to aim to and bending down in position.
"you're already better" he spoke, his voice suddenly deeper as he got behind you once again, this time his hands finding your waist.
You had to hold your breath.
"c'mon, sweetheart, show me what you've learned" 
"is my grip right?" you asked, half (actually fully) hoping he would get closer to you.
"let's see" he granted your wish, bending down to you "That's really good sugar, you're a natural"
"you're just saying that" you chuckled
"no, you're real good at this," he said "Now try again, c'mon"
You set your fingers how he'd taught you and were rewarded with a sultry "That's it, sweetheart, that's perfect"
His breath was fanning over your neck but you somehow managed to make the shot.
"atta girl, if you keep going like that you might just beat me" 
"might?" you forced yourself to act as if you weren't about to combust "I don't think there's any doubt I'm gonna do that"
He chuckled, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your sides "You keep dreaming" he mocked "Now let's see if you can do that again" he challenged.
You turned your head to the side, finding his just inches away.
Once again, your heart took a toll.
Whatever you wanted to say, had flown out of your head.
The only thought in your mind was: God how I want to kiss him.
You had never admitted it, but I guess this was as good a time as any.
"go on angel, show me" he nodded
You obliged, getting back to the game but having to bite your lip to prevent your heavy breathing.
You once again relished the feeling of him so very close to you, and just as you did... an idea came to mind.
So what if I...
As you aimed for a ball, you let your body move with you, more precisely, you let your ass stretch out a bit, casually finding Pedro's crotch.
He cleared his throat, and you bit down a whimper at the feeling.
"sorry" you murmured, pretending to be still focused on the game.
"it's nothing sweetheart" he reassured you, his hands still on you.
"is this good?" you asked innocently as you grinded on him again, nodding to the way you were placing your fingers.
"fuc- Yeah," he said, his voice more strained "Yeah that's perfect sugar, just like that, you're doing really good"
"really?" you asked, moving your ass against him again.
You were determined to break him. And you did.
You had to admit it had been easier than you'd expected.
His hold on your waist got tighter "you might want to stop doing that" he whispered to your ear, spreading goosebumps all over you
"do what?" you asked naively
He chuckled softly
"You're gonna get me in trouble sugar"
"Why is that?" you said, turning to him.
He paused a moment, as if he was pondering if he should have told the truth.
"I wouldn't want to have to fuck you right here on this table" he spoke calmly as if he hadn't just said what he said, "what would all these people think?"
you bit your lip, stifling a whimper "I didn't take you for one to care about that type of thing"
"I'm not, trust me there's nothing I'd like more than to slide your pretty panties to the side and thrust into you right now, but I'm sure a lady like you wouldn't like that"
you smiled "You know me well," you said, leaning closer to him "So what do you say we go back to my hotel room?"
An incredibly wide smile tugged at his lips "I was hoping you would say that"
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
Text
Fake It Till You Make It
Chapter Three - First 'Date'
The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
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Party Princess's Potential Prince
F1 fans are always delighted to see the Party Princess and her year's of friendship with Fernando Alonso. Every Monaco Grand Prix the two greet each other like old friends.
They were seen embracing upon the Princess's arrival to the paddock. Most fans thought nothing of it. It was normal for the pair. Ever since she first met him at ten years old.
Although interactions between the Party Princess and Alonso have been nothing but platonic, some if us are left to wonder if there is something more going on?
Princess Y/N is known for the string of lovers she had. Here at The Monaco Press, we have been lucky enough to interview some of these lovers. When asked for a comment, several of these lovers agreed that their is a high likelihood that the Party Princess has found herself a much older man.
The Monaco Press will bring you the latest on this story as it unfolds.
"Why the hell are you in my apartment?"
Prince Henri walked around the apartment. No matter how large he knew it was, the mess and the clutter made everything feel so much smaller. He kicked away a dirty, sparkly dress. "Can I not come and visit my baby sister?"
"You could have given me some warning," she said as she picked up the dress and the clothes that surrounded it.
Henri shook his head. "Get dressed. We're going out to dinner."
But she sat down on the couch instead. Henri rolled his eyes and stepped over the mess, walking into her bedroom. "Hen, piss off," she called over her shoulder. "I don't want to go to dinner with you."
A dress hit the back of her head. She grabbed it from the back of the sofa and held it out in front of her. It wasn't like the normal dresses she found herself in in the middle of the night, which were far too short low cut. It was black, went down to her knees, and covered up her arms.
"Seriously? Henri, I'll look like a nun."
"I don't care. Do I need to get you shoes as well?"
She glared and marched past him, into her bedroom. She slammed the door shut, quickly got dressed and ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed some flats that matched the dress and pulled them on.
When she was finished she opened the door and stepped out. "Jewellery," Henri said, turning her back around and pushing her into her room.
Her jewellery was all expensive and gorgeous. She picked out some stud earring that, although they didn't look like a lot, were worth more than her rent. Her necklace was simple, too, and she didn't bother with bracelets. Checking herself in the mirror, she walked out of her room. "Good enough for you, your highness?" She asked with a mocking bow.
Henri offered her his arm. She reluctantly took it and followed Henri out of her apartment.
It was a surprise to find no chauffeur waiting for them. Henri opened the car door for her before slipping into the drivers seat. "I've booked out the entire restaurant," he said as he began driving through the streets of Monaco. "Don't leave until you've given him a chance. Please."
"Wait, him?" She suddenly cried. "Henri, I thought we were going for dinner! You can't just set up a date for me and not tell me!"
Henri tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can and I have," he said.
She huffed as she sank down into her seat. "Who is it?"
"Charles Leclerc."
Charles Leclerc. She had only met him once before. He and his brother were meeting the Monaco family for some super formal interview. Charles had looked at her for most of the interview, and constantly brought up his girlfriend. It was big headed of him to assume she wanted him to the point where he mentioned his girlfriend every five minutes and she'd decided then that she didn't like him.
"Why?"
Henri slightly turned his head towards her while still keeping his eye on the road.
"Why have you set me up with Charles Leclerc?"
Henri shrugged his shoulders, and she could have strangled him. "You need good PR and he needs good PR. It just makes sense."
For the rest of the journey to the restaurant she was silent. She didn’t want to talk to Henri, not when he was such an ass.
When he parked up outside of the restaurant, she still didn't move. "Y/N, come on," Henri huffed. "Stop acting like a child," he said and opened his car door.
If there were paparazzi around, they definitely saw her getting dragged out of the car by the future king. "Henri! Stop!" She cried as she tried to fight her brother off. But he was bigger and stronger than her.
Her had her inside of the restaurant and sat down at a table in no time. She scowled, arms folded over her chest as she stared at the empty seat across from her.
"You have my permission to do whatever it takes to keep her here," Henri whispered to the hostess as he left the restaurant.
Keeping her there meant serving her drinks and bread. Twenty minutes later, the black Ferrari with the white and red stripe appeared.
Dressed in a black suit, Charles walked into the restaurant. He looked incredibly handsome, but that wasn't what she was thinking when she saw him.
"You're late."
"Sorry about that, chérie."
"Don't call me that," she spat as another drink was placed in front of her. "You know this isn't a real date, right? You know Henri only set this up so that we look good."
Charles nodded his head. "I'm aware," he said, playing with the rings on his fingers.
"Then why are you here? To waste my time?"
Charles shook his head. Taking his wine glass, he lifted it to his lips and took a quick sip. He placed it back down and cleared his throat.
"Your brother and I have been talking," he began. "Because of my recent trouble with the media after a messy break up, and because of your constant PR blunders and messy nights out, Henri and I thought it would be a good idea if you and I 'dated'. That way we could pull the media's attention away from our fuck ups and onto our seemingly perfect relationship."
She let out a dry laugh. "Do you really think that'll work?"
Charles shrugged his shoulders. "There's only one way to find out."
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something just outside of the restaurant window. "Let me prove it to you," he said, reaching for her hand with a blissed out smile on his face.
When she saw the flash of a camera, she placed her hand in his and painted a practiced smile on her face. Her laugh, too, was practiced, perfected after years of unwillingly being in the spotlight.
"Do you think it'll look like too much if I drove you back to your apartment after this?" Charles asked as the food was placed in front of them.
She rolled her eyes and just hoped the paparazzi didn't see. "Nothing is too much for the party princess," she spat.
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madebycloud · 10 months
Text
Stuck By The Glue Onto You
wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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summary: while out on a hiking date, you decide to test if wednesday can ever get a tan. but your questions about tanning only seem to annoy her. (requested by canvascoloredin) warnings/themes: soft!wednesday, hiking, picnic, r is touch starved ig words: 2.9k
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You're wandering through the forest, surrounded by trees, with birds chirping in the distance.
You begin to walk through the woods, the soft dirt squishing under your sneakers. As you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, you find yourself wondering what possessed you to do something like this.
“God, it's as hot as Satan's ass in here,” you mutter, your girlfriend following not far behind.
“Why are we even out here?”
You couldn't help but smirk. “We're out here to test something—a theory, even,” you reply, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice, though you can tell she's already figured it out.
“Test what? My patience?” she snaps, her eyes rolling towards the sky.
You sigh and turn around to face her. “You're wearing all black, you know it's so hot outside,” you say, your face dripping with sweat.
She raises an eyebrow at you. ”So? I'm not the one sweating.”
You shrug, your shirt is already soaked through. “It suits you anyway,” you mumble to yourself.
You pause in your tracks, looking around for a spot to rest. Finally spotting a nearby tree, you make your way over to it and flop down against the trunk, your body seeking some much-needed relief from the sweltering summer heat. 
You turn to your girlfriend, who's still standing, and raise an eyebrow at her. “Do you tan?”
“Do I what?” she replies, looking confused.
“Tan,” you repeat, rolling your eyes. “You know, when your skin darkens in the sun, do you think it's possible for you to do that?”
“Do I look like I tan?” she deadpans, and you can practically hear the lowercase ‘duh’ at the end of her sentence. 
“Wow, I have no idea,” you reply sarcastically. “Come,” you say, patting your ankle for her to come sit beside you.
She grudgingly makes her way over to you, plopping down on the ground with a huff. “This is stupid,” she mumbles.
“I want to see if you'll ever tan.” You've always wanted to see Wednesday tan, even just a little bit.
“Do you really think that's going to happen?”
“I don't know,” you admit. “That's why we're out here.”
Will Wednesday ever get tanned? Maybe, maybe not. One thing's for sure though, this heat is unbearable.
A moment later, Wednesday stands up without a word and continues walking down the path, leaving you behind.
“Are you serious?” you call out, catching up to her. “Where the hell are you going?”
Without slowing her pace, she throws back a cheeky response. “Wherever you were planning on leading me out.”
You run to catch up to her, huffing and puffing as you try to keep up. “Slow down,” you say, sounding slightly out of breath.
“Well, do you know where that is?” you ask, catching up to her and walking beside her.
“That's what the path is for, genius” she replies, gesturing to the obvious dirt path beneath her feet. 
All of a sudden, Wednesday stops dead in her tracks, and you almost knock her over while running after her. She glares at you, clearly not pleased with being bumped into.
“Watch it,” she snaps. 
You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by her reaction, but then you notice the river flowing ahead of her. “Oh, I hadn't noticed,” you say, trying not to sound like a total idiot.
Without a word, Wednesday extends her hand to you, palm up. “Shoes,” she orders.
You pause for a moment, trying to process the request. “My what?” you repeat, confused.
“Shoes!” she repeats, more loudly this time.
With a quick movement, you slip your feet out of your shoes and place them into Wednesday's outstretched hand. She then does the same, and as you both step into the river, you can't help but feel the cold water up to your ankles.
“Be careful,” she warns. The water splashes against the rocks as she moves across them.
You reluctantly follow behind her, not appreciating her condescending tone. “What do you think I am, a child?” you mutter under your breath. “Ugh, it's cold.”
Your footing is unsteady as you try to balance on the slippery rocks, and without warning, you slip and stumble, almost falling head-first into the shallow water.
Before you hit the ground, Wednesday grabs your arm and pulls you back. “I said, be careful,” she scolds. Your heart races as you regain your footing, feeling the weight of her gaze on you.
“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to catch your breath. You follow closely behind her, taking each step carefully.
You stumble out of the water and land on the dirt path, feeling the mud between your toes. Wednesday, drop your shoes at your feet. 
“You could've died back there,” she says with a hint of concern in her voice, already putting her shoes on.
You quickly tie up your shoes and chase after her, trying not to slip on the wet rocks by the river's edge. “Wait up!” you shout, but she ignores you and continues walking. Frustrated, you pick up the pace and catch up to her. “Can you please slow down?” you huff, still catching your breath.
“I told you to be careful,” she says, not even looking back at you.
“I know,” you mutter, still panting as you try to keep up.
But she doesn't seem to be slowing down at all.
Suddenly, a clever idea pops into your mind. You stop walking and pretend to slip on the rocks. “Oh no! I'm going to slip into the rocks! Help! I need a hand to help me!” you cry out, pouting like a child.
Wednesday turns around and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Do you really need me to hold your hand?” she asks, not sounding very convinced.
“You know, that's one of the things couples do.”
Wednesday scoffs. “Right, and what if I don't want to be that couple? What then?”
“Then you have to hold my hand even more,” you reply, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.
She extends her hands at you. “I'll count from one to ten, and if you haven't grabbed my hand, I'll throw you off the cliff.” Not wanting to get thrown off a cliff, you run as fast as you can, barely catching up to Wednesday just as she reaches five. You grab her hand, swinging it back and forth.
You lean in to whisper into her ear, “You're sweet, you know that?”
“What did you say?” she asks. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can't take your eyes away for a minute. You feel her grip on your hand tighten just a little bit. 
You take a deep breath and lean in a little closer, your lips barely brushing against her ear as you whisper the three words. “You heard me.”
“I'm not sweet,” she mutters, looking away from you.
But no matter how hard she tries, she can't erase the small smile that keeps creeping onto her face, and you can't help but smile back at her. “Yes, you are,” you say, still whispering into her ear. “And I'll keep saying it, whether you like it or not.”
She quickly pulls her hand away from you, pretending to have heard nothing. “I hate you,” she replies, looking away and picking up her pace.
“Stop it,” you complain, reaching for her hand again. “You don't have to be so cold.”
You grin at her, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest as you wrap your fingers around hers and start swinging her hand again. Wednesday sighs, but she doesn't pull her hand away from yours. 
“And I'm glad you came with me.”
“Just promise me you won't do anything dumb this time.”
You nod, still grinning at her. “I promise,” you say, reaching up with your free hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. 
She nods. “Good,” she says. “I don't want to lose you.”
“See? I told you, you're sweet.”
“Just shut up.”
“What would happen if you didn't save me?” you ask, still swinging your hands.
She raises an eyebrow at you, looking you up and down, as if she's trying to decide if she should take your question seriously. “Obviously, dead.”
“Okay, but what about you?”
She shrugs. “What about me?”
“What would happen to you after I hit the rock?” you repeat, a little more desperate this time. 
Wednesday narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you're joking or just an idiot. “I'll probably be on the news, saying, Breaking news: Idiot girlfriend hits rock and dies, and now I'm the main suspect because I was the only one there with her.”
You can't help but chuckle at her response. “Your girlfriend?” you repeat.
Wednesday nods. “My girlfriend,” she says, her tone now a bit softer.
Then you trail your thumb over hers and smirk at her. “Her name is...?” you ask, curious to see how she'll respond. 
She rolls her eyes at you. “Y/N,” she says.
“What do you think about her?” you ask, biting your lip to hide the blush rising in your cheeks.
Wednesday trails off, her eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. “She's amazing, adorable, beautiful, and…” she trails off again.
“And?” you prompt.
“And don't tell her that, because her ego will boost even more than it already does,” she continues. 
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but before you can respond, Wednesday turns and starts walking away. “You and your clumsy curiosity,” she mutters under her breath.
“Seriously, here?” Wednesday asks you with a raised eyebrow as you start to prepare the blanket for the picnic while the scorching sun beats down on the grass.
“I told you, I'm here to test something,” you remind her as you drop the blanket.
Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks away, but you follow after her. “Please, just a few minutes,” you plead.
You patiently wait for her in the tree, hoping that she'll come back soon. After a few minutes of her sunbathing—or getting fried, as you put it—she finally walks towards you.
You stand up and approach her, looking her up and down. “You didn't get a tan,” you say. “Are you dead?”
“No, but you will be soon,” she retorts.
You cross your arms, tilting your head to the side as you place a hand on your chin. “What about you taking off your clothes?” you suggest, teasing her further. “I guess those black clothes are blocking the sun.”
Wednesday lets out a huff of frustration and punches you in the arm—not too hard, but hard enough for you to know she's serious. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding,” you grumble, rubbing your arm where she hit you.
You grab the blanket and make your way to the tree, spreading it out on the ground. You both enjoy a picnic together, eating sandwiches and chatting about various topics. 
Eventually, Wednesday pulls out a book from her bag and begins to read. You glance at the book's cover, trying to make out the title. It looks like some sort of mystery novel. 
You glance down at her lap, hesitating before finally asking, “Can I?” She nods, not even taking her eyes off the book. You crawl onto her lap, resting your head on her thighs, and watch as Wednesday continues reading. 
You drift off to sleep, listening to the sound of her pages turning and her breathing. 
Once she notices that you are sleeping, Wednesday runs her fingers through your hair, pushing it back. You peek at her through closed eyes, your smirk widening. “Do you tan?” you ask, your voice raspy.
“You asked the same question twice.”
“Okay, maybe I phrased it wrong,” you finally manage, taking a deep breath. “I really just mean, have you ever gotten a tan? You know, from being out in the sun all day?”
She nods slowly, not taking her eyes off her book.
“When?” you follow up, trying to glean more information.
She raises an eyebrow at you, knowing full well what you're trying to get at. “You just made me tan in the sun to 'test something', didn't you?” she says, making air quotes with her fingers.
“Right, right. I forgot,” you mumble, kicking a rock in embarrassment. 
You take a deep breath and let it out, leaning back on her lap. “But-” you begin, catching yourself before you ask another stupid question. “You know, I've seen people get a nice golden glow from some time in the sun.” You try to play it off.
Deciding to change the subject, she pinches your nose. “Hey!” you hiss, swatting her hand away. “That's not nice,” you mutter. Wednesday just shrugs and goes back to reading her book. 
“Do you tan?” Wednesday returns the question to you, her eyes still locked on the page in front of her. 
“No, of course not,” you reply without hesitation. “I'm not the one dressed in black from head to toe in this heat.”
“Well, excuse me for having a fashion sense.”
“I didn't say it wasn't stylish,” you retort. “Seriously though, Wednesday, the sun has been beating down on us for hours, and you haven't even gotten a speck of color,” you continue, shaking your head.
“I'm not sure why you're so obsessed with my pale skin, but it's not going to happen, okay?” She punctuates her sentence with an even bigger eye roll.
You sigh, staring up at the blue summer skies. “Don't take me too seriously. I just think you'd look pretty cute with a little color in your cheeks,” you say, your voice soft.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbles, dismissing your opinion.
“I'm serious,” you insist. “Just imagine it, Wednesday: the sun, the sand, the waves. You, in an adorable bikini, enjoying the heat.”
“I'd never wear a bikini in a million years, but the sun and the sand... maybe.”
You're just about to give up and let her read in peace when you suddenly remember something.
“Wait,” you say, leaning forward a little to catch her attention. “Did you know that some people actually pay money to get a fake tan?”
“Well, not me,” you continue, “but I've seen it before. People go to these tanning salons and pay money to lie in a bed that shoots UV rays at their skin, all in the name of looking more 'healthy' and 'glowing.' Can you believe it?”
“Honestly, I don't see the point in paying money for a fake tan when you can just get one for free by lying in the sun.”
“You have a point there,” you say, grinning at her. “But then again, some people just don't want to put in the effort to tan naturally.”
Wednesday rolls her eyes at you. “To each their own, I guess,” she says, continuing to read her book.
You try not to stare at her for too long, not wanting to cause her any discomfort, but it's hard to look away. 
“You look exhausted,” she comments, her finger continuing to trace patterns on your chin.
After a while, you start to feel drowsy. The heat and the soothing sound of the rustling leaves have taken its toll on you, and you start to drift off to sleep, still resting your head on Wednesday's lap.
As you doze off, you feel Wednesday's hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you. “Hey, wake up,” she says softly, causing you to stir and open your eyes.
You feel embarrassed, not knowing how long you've been out.
“Do you feel rested?”
“Yeah,” you respond, still feeling a bit disoriented. “Thanks for waking me up,” you add, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
Wednesday nods, closing her book and setting it aside. “No problem,” she replies. “I just wasn't sure if you were going to sleep on my lap forever.”
“What can I say? Your lap is pretty comfy.”
“You're ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but at least I'm comfortable.”
You sit up, quickly rolling up the blankets and stashing the snacks back into the backpack you brought.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” she asks.
You shake your head. “No, I think I'm good for now.”
“Suit yourself,” she replies with a smirk, then helps you load up the last few things that you packed.
“Don't move!” you say as you quickly grab out your phone. She squints her eyes, looking confused. 
“I want to take a picture of you. Stand right there,” you add, pointing with your finger to the perfect position. 
“For...?” she asks, wondering what kind of strange photo you have in mind.
Shrugging your shoulders, you reply, “Because my girlfriend didn't get tanned after walking in the sun for hours, and this is the proof of that.” You step beside her and take a selfie together, your cheeky grin contrasting with her blank stare.
“Let's go,” she declares before starting to walk away.
“Wait for me,” you call after her, your feet pounding the ground as you try to catch up. “You forgot to hold my hand? I might fall,” you say in a fake-helpless tone, trying your best to look pitiful.  
“Oh, fine,” she replies, stopping in her tracks and turning around to face you. “Are you a child? Because I'm not your mother,” she scoffs.
With a heavy sigh, she reaches out her hand, rolling her eyes as you clasp it in yours, swinging it back and forth as you walk together. 
“You want to hold my hand so badly?” she asks.
“Yes,” you reply with a cheeky grin. “I don't want to get lost or something.”
She shrugs and interlocks her fingers with yours, wondering how she got roped into this. “You're so annoying,” she mutters under her breath.
“What was that?” you ask, pretending not to hear her.
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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 3 months
Text
We Interrupt This Broadcast...
(Another two-part-er! Stay tuned for part 2 very shortly!)
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). One comically graphic description of cannibalism (first paragraph). Also, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect a lil angst sprinkled in there (don't worry, he gets better).
If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
Ok... I'm gonna be honest folks, I have no idea if this fic is even coherent. This ain't my Best Work™ - this is literally the coping mechanism I've been relying on to put myself to sleep every night this week because HOLY SHIT my life is stressful at the moment. 😅
But anyway, I've decided I'm just gonna go ahead and post it, because 1) the world needs more lee!alastor, and 2) I'm not here to do my Best Work™, I'm here to write cute self-indulgent little stories about Alastor getting tickled to bits by his platonic wife. I'm here to decompress my hypervigilant ass at the end of long days by imagining my favorite endearingly creepy characters get wrecked by my other favorite endearingly creepy characters.
In summary, I'm here to have a good time, and I certainly did with this fic. So I hope you do too!
Featuring my new oc! (Rosie and Al still take center stage though, don't worry lol)
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It's a little-known fact that cannibals make terrific doctors. When you spend every meal tearing the human body apart with your face, you end up with a pretty comprehensive intuition for demonic anatomy.
So Alastor supposed he should consider himself lucky to have Rosie and her loyal posse so close at hand after his battle with Adam.
He was certainly relieved when Rosie had stumbled upon him, barely conscious from blood loss on the floor of his wrecked radio tower - and especially a few hours later when, having been rushed back to Cannibal Town, he was whisked into a warm, familiar parlor and deposited on a comfy couch.
Within minutes Rosie had summoned a woman in a white coat who swooped in, produced a bottle of a strange, foul-smelling gel from her medicine bag, soaked a rag with it, and pressed it firmly against Alastor's wound. The searing pain evaporated almost on contact.
"What is that?" Alastor breathes, visibly relaxing against the arm of the couch he's propped against.
"Anesthetic." She begins preparing a needle and thread.
"Didn't know such a thing existed down here."
"Of course! We're demons, not barbarians," Rosie scoffs, watching from the sidelines.
Cannibals, as a rule, rarely last long enough to need a doctor, but Rosie is no ordinary cannibal. And Dr. Trudy Sawblade - a young surgical resident in life, and Rosie's personal physician in death - is the best of the best. While she hadn't quite completed her medical training before her untimely death, in Rosie's service she's gained more than enough experience to make up for her education cut short.
"That salve is derived from a distant cousin of the poison dart frog. Evidently most of the frogs are assholes, because hell has an downright enormous population of them." Trudy's voice is measured and matter-of-fact, with a soft lilt that is both soothing and vaguely unsettling. "Haven't been discovered on earth yet. Which is good, because one whiff of this would end a mortal life in a matter of seconds."
"Lucky you, you're already dead," Rosie chimes in cheerfully.
"Lucky me," Alastor murmurs, without conviction.
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Truthfully, with the pain from his chest wound numbed, the weight of his recent defeat presses even more heavily on Alastor's heart. Someone - probably one of the cannibals who helped transport him from the rubble pile to Rosie's parlor - must have grabbed the broken microphone as they carried him out, because the fractured pieces are sitting on the side table at the other end of the couch. Under normal circumstances the awareness that someone had touched his staff without permission would spark a flash of rage from the Radio Demon, but now he can only stare dismally at what remains of his cane - aware that it's no longer capable of accomplishing much anyway.
It takes only a few minutes for Trudy to stitch Alastor back up and wrap his chest in a stretchy gauze. Meanwhile, Rosie quickly mends the worst of the tears in his clothes - if only to avoid having to watch her friend stare down the couch at his broken staff, with an uncharacteristic half-smile that damn near breaks her heart.
"Alright, sir, that should do it for now. It's a nasty gash, for sure, but the salve should keep it from getting infected."
"Thank you, my dear." He gives an appreciative nod to the surgeon, and Rosie too, as his fellow overlord hands him back his clothes.
"Can't have you going around with a big hole in your chest, can we?" Rosie steps back and scrutinizes her own patch job as he slowly dresses himself again. "It ain't perfect... especially for a classy fellow like you. But I'm sorry to report that I saw my tailor at a Sunday brunch just last week. Inconvenient, but I gotta admit, he made a wonderful casserole."
For the briefest of moments, this aside manages to tweak Alastor's smile into something vaguely genuine. "I'm sure he did."
"One more thing, Mr. Alastor, sir," Trudy jumps in as the radio demon pulls on his coat. "So sorry, I almost forgot. The angel also threw you against a wall, correct?"
At the recollection, Alastor's smile stiffens into something more closely resembling a grimace. His antlers rise between his ears. "Does it matter?"
"You may be at risk for internal injuries." If Trudy is at all fazed by inviting the most powerful overlord in hell's annoyance, it doesn't show. "I really ought to check, just to be safe."
Alastor looks away. As loathe as he is to even acknowledge his own fragility, he truly isn't sure of the extent of his own injuries - given that he's not used to receiving them in the first place. And he'd be damned (well, damned twice) if Adam had ruptured something vital, spelling the radio demon's second death a few hours after the fact.
He grits his teeth. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
"Lovely. If you could just lie back, sir..." As he obliges, she kneels beside the couch. "I'm just going to feel for any swelling..." Her hands hover over him-
"Er, wait." Alastor abruptly sits up.
"It's alright, I won't touch your wound!" Trudy soothes. "I'll just be feeling down here..." She gestures to his midsection (which elicits a sharp flinch).
"No, I-" He hesitates. "I'm... not sure this is necessary."
"Oh, Alastor, stop worryin'!" Rosie reassures him with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Trudy is quite picky about her meals. She'd never go for venison."
"That's... not what..."
Alastor pauses, and evidently decides against trying to explain what he meant. He reluctantly lies back against the cushions again.
"I'm going to place my hands under your shirt, sir. If you feel any pain, please alert me."
"Very well."
As Trudy lifts his shirt, he looks like he is going to say something more - but whatever it is dies on his tongue the moment her hands make contact with his stomach. He brings one knee up sharply.
"Tender there, sir?"
"No! No, your hands are cold." His words have gone uncharacteristically stiff.
Trudy methodically probes one side of his belly, then the other (which in turn causes his other knee to pop up). This time when Trudy asks if he's in pain, he merely shakes his head.
The surgeon furrows her brow, concentrating. Human-animal hybrids like Alastor already take a bit of poking around just to get a sense for each unique configuration of organs. It doesn't help that the man is bracing for every touch...
"Are you sure this doesn't hurt, sir?" she murmurs tentatively. "You're very tense."
"Yes." The word comes out like a hiss. She glances at the radio demon's face. He's wearing his typical showman's smile, but his eyes are fixed on the ceiling with a weird, wide, unwavering stare.
Finally the surgeon sits back. "Well, I don't feel anything concerning. But to be honest, sir, I can't feel much of anything." She turns apologetically to her employer. "His stomach is all clenched up..."
But Rosie is simply standing there pressing a huge grin into her glove. She's known Alastor for decades. She can read his expressions like a magazine.
"Alastor, darling," Rosie drawls casually. "Are you ticklish?"
From the radio demon's reaction, you'd think she'd asked if he was an Exorcist. He scrambles to sit up. "No! Why would-"
"You're ticklish. That's..." She catches herself just before the word precious.
"...What?!" There's an edge of defensiveness to his voice that Rosie very rarely hears from him.
"Why are you embarrassed?"
"I'm not emb- That's not- what-" Oh, she's giving him that look. "I'm just- I wasn't-"
As he speaks, Alastor's voice suddenly goes thin. His gaze turns inward. "I'm stuttering. I don't stutter! I've never stuttered!" He clutches his coat closer around himself. "I am the RADIO DEMON, for heaven's sake, I don't sta-AHH! Haha-!"
Evidently a scribble to the ribs is a very effective way to interrupt a panicking demon. Rosie runs her fingers from his hip up his side to his arm and back a couple times for good measure.
The amount of startled laughter she is able to draw from just this surprise touch delights her - the poor man is so ridiculously sensitive that a five-second one-handed tickle leaves him fully breathless.
"Okay! Okay, okahay! Keheh- Rosie!"
"Sorry dear, couldn't resist." She holds her hands up, still beaming like a stadium light. "I'll stop torturing you."
Alastor clears his throat. "You're not torturing me, dearest." He straightens his bowtie, clearly attempting to salvage his dignity. "You know what I always say, laughter is a powerful sign of-"
He cuts off with a sharp inhale and defensive flinch as Rosie perches on the edge of the sofa beside Trudy. She grins.
"You're right. That's certainly your specialty, isn't it?"
Alastor forces a nervous chuckle. "Never fully dressed without a smile, you know."
"Well don't worry, darling. I understand." She pats his knee. "Just because you've got the scariest evil cackle in hell doesn't mean you appreciate having it tickled out of you."
Rosie had expected this assurance to put him at ease, but if anything, he seems more troubled.
"Why would I mind a little, ah..." Tickling. Tick-ling. He can't bring himself to articulate two syllables. Is this all he's left with without his staff? "...Er, a little bit of levity? Can't let things get too serious, can we?" With another quick cough, the radio demon finally manages to get his voice to fall back into his familiar breezy cadence. He turns to Trudy. "Now, are we... quite finished with that examination?"
"Nothing seems amiss, from what I can feel." Trudy takes a step back. "Which is not much, but I think I've already made you uncomfortable enough..."
"Nonsense! I'm perfectly at ease!" He lies back again and smooths his coat. "Please, finish your little checkup. I insist."
Trudy regards him curiously for a moment. "Right." Her hands hover over his belly again. "But if you want me to stop, sir, just say the word-"
"I assure you that w-won't be necessahary..."
Trudy watches him seize up before her fingers even make contact. This time she presses a little deeper into his belly, trying to feel around his defensiveness.
"You are punching holes in my couch," Rosie remarks dryly, watching the poor demon's claws bury themselves in the cushions.
"I kn... ohow, I'm just-" He squeezes his eyes shut as Trudy hits a particularly bad spot. And then another. And another... hell, his torso one big bad spot.
"What do you think, Trudy?"
The young doctor just shakes her head.
"Alastor. Darling. You have GOT to relax."
"I am!" Alastor's composure is dangling by the thinnest of threads.
"Maybe it would help," Trudy says, with infinite caution, "to just go ahead and laugh, sir."
A beat. And then Rosie bursts into laughter.
"Giving new meaning to the 'deer in the headlights' expression, my friend." She scoots closer. "I thought you just said you don't mind a little 'levity'..."
"I don't!"
"In that case. Carry on, Trudy - Auntie Rosie is gonna help our patient out a bit while you work."
Too late, Alastor realizes what his fellow overlord has in mind. "Wait, wait! Ros-"
A delicate set of nails find the region just under his ribs - and it's all downhill from there.
"Ah! Fuhuck!" Alastor chokes on a curse before he can catch himself. He twists sideways, collapses into muffled giggles, and briefly manages to pull himself together - just barely - with a few hyperventilated breaths. "Rosie, really! This isn't- please- ack! I can't-" There's that damn stutter again. He hadn't even stuttered when Adam slashed him.
And now, Great Alastor the Radio Demon, undone by some scribbles? And a medical exam?!
Meanwhile, Trudy can feel even less now than she could before, her patient's belly now quaking with silent, suppressed mirth. But she takes one look at Rosie's delighted expression... and continues probing anyway, curling a subtle little smirk of her own.
It seems Rosie has picked up on a slightly less tangible injury than anything Trudy can address. But fortunately, they've just stumbled upon a promising potential treatment.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2 is already pretty much finished - my brain is just too mushy at this point to contend with Tumblr's shitty text interface any longer, and this feels like a good stopping point.
Lemme get a good night sleep and another dose of Prozac and I'll have the rest out shortly 😅
💜 - Cozy
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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year
Text
Crowley: It has come to my attention that some of our dear students have been experiencing stress lately and it has been affecting their day-to-day activities.
Crowley: That's why, as your overly-kind headmage, I have hired a professional cuddler that will solve this problem.
The students: Professional cuddler?
Leona: Seriously, Crowley? Everyone could cuddle their asses and they're still not fine.
Crowley: Kingscholar, that's why I hired a professional.
Leona: ...
Leona: Where the hell is this professional cuddler?
Crowley: The room next to Professor Trein's.
The students: *chuckle*
Professor Trein: *unamused* I believe their room should've been next to Professor Crewel's.
Crowley: Come on now, Professor Trein. Professor Crewel will kill me if I do that.
Professor Trein: Hmph.
Ruggie: Leona, you're not actually planning to try it yourself, are you?
Leona: What? I'm stressed.
Ruggie: You don't need that cuddle.
Leona: I do. *leaves*
Ruggie: *sigh*
Leona: *went to the room where the professional cuddler is*
MC: *arranging some pillows* *ensuring that the whole room is cozy*
*there's even a coffee table at the corner, plushies, and pastries*
Leona: ...
Leona: *decides to knock*
MC: *turns around* Oh! *gives him a warm smile*
Leona: Are you the professional cuddler?
MC: Yes. Please come in.
Leona: *walks in and looks around* *proceeds to sit on the carpet*
MC: Would you some coffee? Juice? Tea?
Leona: No, thank you.
MC: Alright. How about pastries?
Leona: Not a fan of sweet stuff.
MC: *chuckles* Okay. *gets their notepad* *and sits in front of him* I will need to ask for your name and preferred time of the day.
MC: Is that okay with you?
Leona: Yes. My name's Leona Kingscholar. Your place looks cozy. I might drop by here any time of the day.
MC: *nods* That's fine. So, Leona? Do you like the door stayed open? Do you want it closed? Or the windows open but the door is closed?
Leona: I think the last one.
MC: I see. Alright. That's all.
Leona: This is where you cuddle me. Yes?
MC: *nods* I'll move closer to you if you don't mind.
Leona: Sure.
MC: *cuddles Leona* Make yourself comfortable.
Leona: ...
Leona: *resting his head on their shoulder*
Leona: Do I need to tell my life story to you while we're on it?
MC: *chuckles* That would be wonderful. But no need to rush.
Leona: Okay.
Leona: ...
Leona: You have that motherly warmth.
MC: Why, thank you. *chuckles softly*
Ruggie: How's the cuddling session, Leona?
Leona: *went back to his dorm after spending a few hours in the cuddle room* It's nice. I would go back there again.
The Savanaclaw students: Can we go there too?
Leona: Yeah. But don't stink the place.
Ruggie: Wow. Rude.
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themultifandomgal · 6 months
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Tommy Shelby- Expecting
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Keeping mine and Tommys relationship a secret wasn't something I wanted to do. I wanted us to be official, but Tommy had other ideas. Instead we would sneak into each others bed at night. All hell broke loose though when I found out I was with child. At first Tommy didn't believe me that it was his, then he told me that he didn't want to settle down and have a family. Offered to find a good doctor to do an abortion. I refused and now I'm known at the Watery Lane Whore. Anger however bubbles inside of me when Tommy announces his relationship with Grace and that they were expecting.
I walk through the door of the Garrison and the first thing I see is her smiling and laughing with Tommy and his family. I roll my eyes and turn around wanting to leave when John calls me over
"YN! Come join us, we're celebrating"
"No thank you John" I glance over to Tommy who's got his arm around Grace "not in the mood"
"Hey wait" John runs over to me "how's the baby?" he asks with genuine concern
"Fine"
"Fuck YN whatever you and Tommy are fighting about now just put it to bed for one fucking nought to celebrate"
"Only if you knew what we are fighting about. Look I'm gonna go. Enjoy" as I leave I hear John say
"If I ever find the fucker who did this to her..." little does he know his own brother is the fucker that he won't do shit to. As I walk the streets to get home I'm called a number of names because I'm pregnant out of marriage, but would anyone dare say the same thing to Grace? No because she's with Tommy. The bitch that tried to get Tommy killed is now having his baby and engaged. It's like he's been brainwashed. Ignoring the comments I get home, deciding to go to bed early.
Over the next few weeks I stay as far away from the Shelby's, that is until I hear a knock on my front door. Groaning I get off the sofa, putting my book down on the coffee table and walk to the front door. I open it up not expecting to see Tommy stood there looking disheveled, but here he is
"Can I come in?" he asks sheepishly which is very unusual for Tommy. I cross my arms and frown looking at him
"I don't know. Why are you here"
"She lied. The whole time Grace was lying to me" still frowning YN doesn't say anything but continues so look at Tommy "YN please let me explain" In YNs mind she goes back at to about what she should do. Let Tommy in and talk, or close the door on him and never speak to him again.
Ending 1- YN and Tommy end up together
Wanting her child to know their father, YN sighs letting Tommy into her house. He walks in and takes off his shoes knowing YN hates mud being brought into the house. Not uttering a word, YN walks into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Tommy walks in behind her also not saying anything
“So. Gonna explain?” YN finally says crossing her arms and turning to look at Tommy
“YN I fucked up”
“Tell me about it” YN mutters
“Grace wasn’t pregnant. Never was. She was helping the copper, get close to me the kill me”
“And why should I believe you?”
“You have no reason to. I get that. But I’m sorry. I really liked.. like you YN and I let that bitch cloud my judgment. When you told me you were pregnant I freaked out. I spoke to Grace about it and she told me shit about you. Said you weren’t actually pregnant with my child, said she saw you with another man. That’s why I didn’t believe you. I was hurt”
“You you don’t think I was? I could have dealt with you not wanting a family, I could have even dealt with you just not wanting to be with me. Yes it would have hurt, but not as much as finding out you were happy to settle with Grace”
“Your right. I’m a fucking dick for that and I’m sorry” this catches YN off by surprise. Tommy never apologises. Yet here he is apologising to her “YN I promise you I will do everything I’m my power to make it up to you” thinking about it YN decides to give him a chance.
Over the next few years YN forgives Tommy, they end up getting married and having more children together.
Ending 2- YN leaves Tommy alone and moves away
“I’m sorry Tommy. I can’t. You hurt me more than I ever thought could be possible. I could have dealt with you not wanting a family, I could have even dealt with you just not wanting to be with me. Yes it would have hurt, but not as much as finding out you were happy to settle down with Grace”
“YN she was never pregnant please let me explain”
“No Tommy. I’m moving away tomorrow. I will tell our child that their father was a good man, but couldn’t look after us. When they’re 18 they can choose whether they come to see you. Until then, this is goodbye” YN closes the door in front of Tommy and heads up to her bedroom for the final time here in Watery Lane.
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