Tumgik
#piss sponges is better sorry
Text
"I enjoy the smell of urinal cake"
29 notes · View notes
eustasskidagenda · 7 months
Text
Okay, this post is not based on a request. I kept thinking about it for hours and finally decided to write it down: how the OP characters would text their s/o. So here are some texting headcanons for some of my favorite characters: Eustass Kid, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Sabo. I'll probably write a part 2 with my other beloved characters: Luffy, Marco, Killer, and Robin. :D
☆Texting HCs for Kid, Law, Sanji, Zoro & Sabo
CW : g/n reader, MDNI, Kid is cursing, fluff, funny, partly nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro 
WC : 2k
Tumblr media
Kid
Your name/photo in his contacts: mine. With a photo of your ass, obviously. And when he's mad at you, he renames you mid(ge).
Such a brat.
His wallpaper: a cool photo of his motorbike (I'm sorry but Kid is that kind of man in love with his own bike/car. But it's okay, he's still my favorite.) Or, a pic of your ass.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery: your ass, random photos of your face when he’s teasing you, his bike, and some punk stuff (music, makeup, outfit etc.)
His fav emoji : none.
He likes to send really, really shorts messages. Like : 
"Hi" "u know" "i have an idea" "So listen:"
Goddam Kid, just write the WHOLE sentence in one message.
He's sending you random pictures of his torso, just to flex with his big tiddies.
And you have to respond with a heart emoji and praise him each time.
If you want, he's more than willing to send dick pick too. 
Again, you have to praise him. Even if the pictures are absolutely non-aesthetic. He's blessing you with his cock after all. 
"Babe, you don't know how to take beautiful pics of your dick." "WTF SHUT UP???????? It's MY dick???!!! OF COURSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL??!!!" 
Yeah, Kid is clearly using extra punctuation. 
Oh, sure, each morning, you receive a mirror selfie of his outfit of the day. Such a punk fashion icon. "Rate my outfit on a scale of amazing to amazing" 
He doesn't use emojis because they sound too soft and stupid. "em0teS aRe f0r s0fT b0ys Y/N"
If you complain about his messages looking cold, he might use random emotes to annoy you like "UgH iF U wAnt 🦬" (with that stupid dumb sponge bob meme)
Whenever he calls you, it seems like he's yelling through the phone. 
He likes using caps lock like "HEY Y/N, WANNA FUCK TONIGHT??????" 
He's sending you random punk/rock music. And you have to listen and react to every single music, otherwise he's so pissed off. He is sharing his world with you, the less you can do is interact with him. 
He also loves sending some pics of what he's working on, because Kid likes to repare/custom some cars or motorbike. 
And last thing, I like the idea of Kid Pirates being a punk music band, so sure, Kid loves to send you some videos of him playing guitar. "My fingers are skilled in three things : music, crafting and fingering you all the fucking day long"
His phone is so damaged because he throws it every time he gets angry (like every two minutes).
Tumblr media
Law
Your name/photo in his contacts: y/n-ya. With a cursed picture of you. Just to tease you with it. 
His wallpaper: nothing, just the random by default home screen. In his view, wallpapers are useless and pointless.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery: random pictures you took of him, emo memes, and boring stuff about medicine or basic hygiene rules for Luffy. And a guide to "how to stop screaming and how to control your anger: a guide for children" for Kid. 
His favorite emoji: 🖕🏻
Whenever you annoy him with a stupid joke or a prank you saw on TikTok, his immediate reaction is to block you. He's so annoyed, please, leave him alone. He is immediately aware that it is a prank. Luffy always does the same to him before you do.
He's never using capital, it's for the emo aesthetic, like 'I hate bread'. Nope. But ✨"i hate bread."✨, yeah, much better
And yes, he uses "." everytime, it's for the dark and tired emo aesthetic. 
He always leaves a group conversation as soon as you include him. Please, he's so pissed off by those kinds of things. 
He's able to leave your message seen for days. Just because he was busy and forgot about what you said. If you need an answer, sure, try to call him. He always keeps his phone in silent mode. 
He likes to send you cool articles that he reads. Especially about medicine, tattoos or nerd stuff like movies, books, games etc.
"wanna go to a date tattoo with me tomorrow?" 
That kind of question is clearly his love language
He enjoys teasing you with random photos of his tattooed fingers or chest. "I bet you miss these fingers." And yeah, he's clearing curling his fingers on the pic like he would do when they are inside you. He's really good at teasing you with photos. 
Kid and Luffy steal his phone whenever he's with them. So be ready to receive a lot of ugly pictures of Law (taken by the chaotic duo), middle fingers from Kid, and blurry meat pictures from Luffy. 
Poor Law deserves a break.
Tumblr media
Sanji 
Your name/photos in his contacts : 💗💘🛐Mon Amour (my love)🛐💘💗 With the most beautiful picture of you. 
His wallpaper : a cute couple photo.
What kind of pictures are in his gallery : a lot of cooking videos or photos, you, aesthetic pic of the sky and a private album with some hot nudes that you sent to him.
His favorites emojis : 💘💗💖🛐💍🧎🌺🌸🌹🫦🥰😘🧑🏻‍🍳🍽🍷🥘 (yeah, Sanji LOVES emojis)
He's always texting you back. If he can't reply within a second, he won't open the text. Sanji, leaving his beautiful s/o with that awful "seen"? Never. 
All the mornings "good morning sweetheart 💘" and all the evenings "sleep well sweetheart, dream about me 💖"
He wants to take a cute and aesthetic pic of the both of you all the days. 
He bombards you with pictures of his cooking. It's cute, but also annoying because he can't help but send extra long texts. He describes every single action he did, along with recipes and tips. 
He enjoys seeing your outfit of the day. He can attempt to match his clothes to yours. 
Random "I love you 💖" and "if no one told you you were pretty today : you're the prettiest 🥰" 
He enjoys sending you cooking videos. "We should eat this tonight. What do you think? 🧑🏻‍🍳"
He's pretty good at sexting. He knows how to take aesthetic photo of his hands, back, or mouth. Not just an ugly dick pick (Kid, Zoro, I'm looking at you). And he also likes to leave you some message like.
I would sit you down on this table if you were with me right now. You know, the one in your kitchen where he had dinner with your parents yesterday? I would gently kiss your neck, fondle your chest, and slowly kneel between your legs until you shout my name. You would pull on my hair, begging me to keep going until you cum repeatedly on my face.  👅 "
And if you send him a nude, well, he's going to die from a nosebleed.
Rest in peace, Sanji. 
Tumblr media
Zoro
Your name/photos in his contacts : "y/n". You pick a picture for him because Zoro and phones are not compatible.
His wallpaper : a cool katana
What kind of pictures in his gallery : gym selfies, katanas and alcohol (all with ugly quality)
His fav emojis : 👍🏻 and 😴 Like:
"hey Zoro, you're alright" 👍🏻
"Zoro, wanna hang out?" 😴
"Babe, what are you doing?" 😴
"… am i annoying you?" 👍🏻
He can responds to absolutely anything with those two emojis. 
Zero is so oblivious, so let's be honest: he is not good at using phones. Almost every day, he forgets his phone at home. And even if he didn't forget about it, it's probably on silent mode or just off.
He doesn’t know how to use the keyboard, so prepare yourself for coded-message like "o!. @= sp⛑t t🧹day???/!df🆎e !!"He can't even use the excuse "my cat walked on my keyboard", he just sucks with technology.
Your messages are often "seen ✔️" and that's all. Not because he wants to be mean, just... he didn't understand the concept of answering every text. He takes all of your messages as random information. Like "Hey, I'd love to see you tonight!". Well. OK. Message understood. That's all.
The only application he has on his phone is Google Maps. Even with it, he still gets lost. "Turn left." Without a doubt, he turns right. 
Once, he tried to please you with a dick pic. But the photo was just terrible: bad luminosity, an ugly close-up of his cock, blurred as fuck, and you can see the dirty tissue behind him.
He doesn't answer when you call him because he's either asleep or at the gym (or drunk).
Once, he also tried to send you a voice message, but it was just the sound of the wind. He forgot to talk closer to the microphone.
Tumblr media
Sabo 
Your name/photos in his contacts : "my revolutionary 🎩💛". With a beautiful pic of your smiling face. 
His wallpaper : a symbol of revolution. 
What kind of pictures in his gallery : petition screenshots, his brothers, you, anti-capitalist memes and a private album with some hot pic of you (naughty Sabo)
His fav emojis : 🔥✨🖕🏻💛✊🏻😡😏😎🤩👉🏻👌🏻🫵🏻
Sabo is... complicate. Sometimes, he doesn't answer for WEEKS. And sometimes he's extra chatty. And when he's chatty well...
Sabo is always spamming you with petition links. "Save the dolphins", "save the monkeys", "fuck capitalism", "for the resignation of *insert random politician name*" 
"Hey sweetheart, manifestation tomorrow. See you there!! 🫵🏻" 
When it's not petitions, it's probably videos or articles. Sabo is a pure revolutionary. Be prepared to receive lengthy texts when he wants to fight for a cause. It's cute, honestly. He's really involved and passionate. 
"You, me, on a trip tomorrow?! 😏"
Sabo has a knack for surprising you with trips, so prepare yourself. This man craves adventure and surprises. He wants you to join his crazy journey. 
Sometimes, he's using proper grammar and punctuation, sometimes he's using a lot of !!!!!!!!??????? And caps lock. Especially when he's furious about something.  He makes a lot of typo errors because he's always in a rush while typing.
Let's fught  *figrt *fijkt *FUCK *LET'S FIGHT (and fuck)
He enjoys taking pictures of you unexpectedly because it makes you seem more natural. 
"So… sweetheart… we have a new roommate" with a cute pic of a dog/frog/duck/snail/whatever. Sabo has a kind heart. If he sees a wounded or abandoned animal, he feels obliged to adopt it.
And regarding spicy texts… 
Sabo is a kinky boy. So sure, he's thirsty when it comes to sexting/nudes. As a revolutionary, he is also very careful. He always asks you first before sending you nude or spicy texts. If you're willing, then prepare yourself.
A bunch of nudes. Since he's good with them, he won't display his dick in a weird and unattractive angle to you. He enjoys showing you his hands when he's wearing his gloves. Or a mirror photo of his back.
"I know you will scratch it when I'll fuck you tonight 😏"
You're not forced to send him nude or spicy texts back. He respects your boundaries without exception. And if you send him a photo anyway, he's also really nice. Always a comment like "your ass is soooooo good with this angle. I can't believe I'm that lucky 🥵" and if he wants to save a photo for his collection, he's always asking if it's okay with you.
"Sweetie, i have a new toy for you… 💛"
We all know what he's talking about. Naughty Sabo.
2K notes · View notes
fictionalmenmakemecry · 5 months
Text
Toxicity or Tough Love?
Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader
Summary: A quick fic of the realities of being with Carmy Berzatto. Nobody is perfect and relationships can be messy even with the best intention.
Warnings: Cursing, drug abuse and toxic environment, fluff
Tumblr media
"Why do you do this shit every time." Carmy exclaimed
You rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you stacked dirty dishes from both of you just finishing dinner.
You could feel his glare on you and he leaned up against the kitchen counter both of his hands resting on the edge.
The toxicity that raised in your relationship from time to time wasn't anything new. Everyone knew that both you and Carmy fought too much. Arguments would get heated, and hateful words would get thrown around, but neither of you would walk away.
"Carm, you're over reactin-"
"Don't pull that Carm shit on me" He spat, bringing his hands up to his tossed hair.
"He needed money. What do you want me to do? Not help him?" You reached over grabbing more dish soap as the warm water run.
"Yes. He's a junkie" He snapped.
You froze, you continued to look down at the at the sponge in your hand, feeling your grip of the glass in your hand tighten.
"Don't say that." You gritted
"It's true and you know it" Carmy whipped back.
"He's clean," you said sternly slowly, starting to wash the glass again.
"Bullshit. How long?" You heard him question.
"A month," you said confidently.
You heard a snort from behind you.
And with a blink of an eye, you swung around, flinging the glass at him.
He dodged it.
The pieces of glass traveling across the room made you come to reality on what you did.
"What the actual fuck" Carmy shouted at you looking down at the shards of glass surrounding both of you.
You didn't notice your heavy breathing and saw that the glass wasn't in your hand anymore.
"Get the fuck out" You said as calmly as possible.
He didn't move.
"Get the FUCK out!" You screamed looking at him and throwing the kitchen sponge at him.
He stumbled out, glancing at you pissed off before leaving the kitchen and slamming door behind him.
You stood by the sink, looking out the window, feeling your chest heave with heavy mournful cries coming from your mouth. Your shoulders shook with the sorrow you felt in your body. You couldn't handle not being able to deal with your brother and his addiction.
He was your brother and all you wanted to do was help him get better. Trust him, but you should know by now that's not how it worked.
You felt the tears rolling down your eyes. Finally acknowledging that the money you gave him wasn't for what he said. It wasn't for rent.
Carmy was right.
"Baby" You felt a hand wrap around your waist. Carmy rested his forehead on your shoulder, feeling his presence behind you.
You immediately turned around and cried into his shoulder. You felt his hand stroke your hair. His gent touch calming you.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that" He whispered, he captured your face in his hands and looked at you with his doughy blue eyes.
"Shhh, it's okay" He comforted you bringing you back to his shoulder and nuzzling his head into neck.
"I-I'm sorry for throwing a glass at you" You sniffled pulling away and looking down at the ground covered in broken glass.
You looked back up at him. You felt him lean in, brushing his lips against yours and giving you a light kiss. You brought your hands up, twisting his curls in between your fingers. His hands resting on your lower back, holding you against him.
You both pulled away and hugged each other with his arms resting on your shoulders and yours around his waist.
Both you surrounded by broken glass.
Masterlist of other fics
442 notes · View notes
amspams · 30 days
Text
Intoxicated
A/N: This one's a little longer.
TW: Swearing, substances, vomiting
It was currently two a.m. Tiffany had cried herself to sleep after a big fight with her husband. She thought things had finally gotten better between the two of them. But apparently she'd been stupid to think so.
She tossed and turned restlessly on the mattress. This was the third time she'd woken up that night. She was worried sick. After the couple's fight, Charles had grabbed his jacket and ran off. Tiffany wasn't sure when or if he was coming back at all. The thought of losing him once again terrified her.
She got up from their shared bed - or what had been shared, as his side was empty now - and walked over to the closet. She opened it and looked at her clothes. Then she looked at Chucky's.
...
Her fingers grazed the soft fabric. Surely he wouldn't mind? She thought, and threw on one of his white tees. It was a little tight on her, as Chucky was a slim guy, but it still fit her and she looked good.
Tiffany quietly made her way down the stairs, careful not to wake up the twins. Then she sat down on the couch in front of the family TV. She sighed. Where was he?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2.37 a.m. She'd almost managed to fall asleep. However, loud banging brought her back to reality. Who the hell was knocking on her door at this hour?
Pissed off, Tiffany grabbed her pistol from the cabinet and stormed to the entrance. She shoved the door open and pointed the gun at the person. "Whoever you think you are, just know that-"
Tiffany was caught off guard. "Chucky!?"
"Heya, sweetcheeks," he said, slobbering over his words as he stumbled towards her. Tiffany caught him before he could fall. "Damn, my bad. Anyways, look at this cool shit I found."
Chucky waved a car's side view mirror in front of her face. "Ain't it a sweet find?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, where did you get that?" Tiffany asked, snatching the item from his hand and inspecting it. How he'd been able to break it off the respective vehicle was beyond her.
"Uh, dunno. It's a lil cracked though. Think I could sell it?"
Tiffany was baffled. "What- no! Are you drunk?"
"Nah," Chucky said. "I wanna tell ya something though."
"Oh god, what did you do now?"
Chucky scratched his head. "I ain't sayin' I did it or anything, but."
"But?"
"Pretty sure someone spewed on the sidewalk."
Tiffany stared at him blankly.
"What? It wasn't me!"
Chucky's face then paled.
"Oh hell no. C'mon, to the toilet, right now," she said, and dragged the man into the house.
Just before they would reach the bathroom, Chucky decided to stop and throw up anything he'd had left in his stomach from the day before onto Tiffany's favourite white rug.
She suppressed a shriek of utter horror and guided him into the bathroom instead.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3.42 a.m. Chucky sat sprawled on the cold floor infront of the toilet. He watched as Tiffany frantically scrubbed the mat with a sponge, soap and water in the bathtub.
"Man I feel like shit."
Tiffany lashed out. "Oh yeah? How do you think I feel!?"
"Why are you yellin' at me. It's not like I did it on purpose," Chucky muttered.
Tiffany ignored him and continued scrubbing.
Chucky then got up, staggered over to her and looked over her shoulder. "Geez, I wouldn't wanna wash that shit for a hundred bucks."
Tiffany sighed.
"I don't think ya should waste anymore of your time on that."
"God, just shut up," Tiffany said. But deep down, she knew he was right. There was no saving that rug. She'd just have to buy a new one.
"Ugh, why can't you just be responsible for once!?" Tiffany screamed. "We have kids now goddamn it. You can't keep doing this shit. Do you want to end up like your father?"
Chucky scowled, and Tiffany could see a hint of sadness in his eyes.
She let go of the rug and wrapped her arms around her husband. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to say that."
"It's fine."
"No it's not. I shouldn't have used that against you," she said. "Listen, how about this. I'll go throw out the rug and then make you something to eat. You must be starving. Meanwhile, you can take a bath."
"Alright."
Tiffany rolled the rug and watched as Chucky stumbled into the tub. "Sweetface, you need to take off your clothes first."
"Huh, why?"
"Oh my god, just take off your fucking clothes."
"Geez, woman. No need to get all worked up."
Tiffany then left with the rug.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later and after all of that, Tiffany stayed up to make Chucky some swedish meatballs because the devious bastard refused to eat anything else. She's just that sweet.
15 notes · View notes
soleilnomoon · 2 years
Note
hi hi hellooo is the milestone event still open..... im a new follower and just saw it (if requests are alr closed it's alright!) may i request blood root, bleeding heart, and calla lily for doffy or law: first kisses, slowly kissing down the body with 36, 53, 58 as themes? thank you!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
so sorry this took so long, i had too many ideas bouncing around haha ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ i hope you enjoy!
4.6k words, fem reader, nsfw - 18+ mdni, angst angst babey, fluff if you pretend hard enough (it's doflamingo, pls), smut obviously; cute stuff includes fingering, a little degradation, doffy being a bastard, oral (f receiving), etc. etc. etc. y/n is a baker and doffy is an absolute menace and the worst kind of obnoxious client.
💖☁️ la vie est drôle ☁️💖
starring: "heavenly demon" donquixote doflamingo x reader.
blood root (fluff), bleeding heart (angst), & calla lily (smut) with first kiss & slowly kissing down the body; #36, 53, & 58 (blush, masquerade, & denial).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a light dusting of powdered sugar floats slowly through the air —magic you once told a young customer on a particularly cold morning — landing on various surfaces in the kitchen, the heat from the oven forcing sweat to pool at your temples. your aunt’s voice wafts in from the front desk, no doubt she’s trying to entice a new customer with some discount she makes up on the fly. after washing your hands, you head up front, a teasing smile on your lips, words knocking against your teeth before you freeze, arms dropping to your sides.
your aunt glances over her shoulder at you, a stern look on her round face, almost as if she’s telling you to get it together. you blink a few times and adopt an amiable, pleasant smile. normally, this wouldn’t be difficult for you — but you recognize the man’s uniform; he’s from the palace, which means that a particular, pain-in-your-ass monarch is making an outrageous order. one that’ll have you baking for days. your eyebrow twitches at the thought, but you remain calm and assist your aunt with his order.
as you suspected, he’s given you an impossible deadline; at first, you refuse and pull your aunt aside to tell her as much. 
“there’s no way we can make that much in four days, he’s being ridiculous.” you glance down at the list and roll your eyes again. 300 macarons. 300 cupcakes. 300 cookies. 300 strawberry sponge cakes. crumbling the paper in your hand, his messy scrawl pissing you off — he’s doing this on purpose, you know he is — you sigh loudly, ready to pull your hair out and maybe your aunt’s too.
“oh, stop that,” she chides, tutting her tongue at you like you’re a child, “we’ll just close up early and work in shifts. your brother can help.” you want to laugh at that, but you refrain, press your lips together and just hum in agreement. “wonderful!” she claps her hands together and scurries back up front, collecting the hefty payment from the man before locking the front door. because of your aunt’s blind loyalty towards him, she’ll never take notice of any of his nefarious ploys — no matter how small.
but, you know better than to burst her bubble, so you choke back your comments and tie your hair up. it’ll take a miracle for you to make it through this ordeal in one piece.
after three days of tirelessly working, of pestering relatives and friends for assistance, you finish the order. you’re exhausted as you quadruple check the quality of the baked goods; everything is neatly packed into cute boxes, pretty ribbons wrapped securely around them. you help load everything into the carriage and offer to ride with the order to the palace in your aunt’s stead — her exhaustion is more noticeable than yours, so you sacrifice your rest for her.
she kisses your cheeks sweetly before you go and urges you to mind your tongue in doflamingo’s presence. you make no promises, the man actively works hard to piss you off whenever he can. you have no doubt that if you run into him again, it won’t end as smoothly as you want it to. still, you’ll try — at least for your aunt’s sake and her bakery’s reputation.
donquixote doflamingo is every bit as enigmatic as he is persuasive, often finding himself charming others without really meaning to — but not really caring about it, either. it comes with the territory, he’s often told. and now, he sits, bored out of his mind, while trebol takes over in their morning meeting. a grave mistake on doflamingo’s part; he should’ve told everyone to get out while he had the chance. now if he does it, he’ll come off as an even bigger asshole than he would’ve before. comically enough, this isn’t something that should’ve ever crossed his mind as marginally relevant, but a certain someone’s voice pops back into his head with a vengeance, setting off his irritation all over again.
as someone who prides themselves on having self control, he’s doing a pretty damn shitty job of appearing aloof. he should’ve ordered 3,000 macarons, instead. 
the thought is equal parts comforting and irrelevant; and he refuses to dwell on it.
casting a glance trebol’s way, the meeting is concluded prematurely — doflamingo is the first to leave the room, his long legs carrying him up the winding staircase and to his office. he pinches the space between his eyes, right above the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply through his nostrils and trying not to do something reckless. 
the palace always gives you an eerie vibe, but you can’t really complain too much, since they pay well whenever they make large orders like this. you can’t imagine living on such an impressive estate, and every time you visit, you’re reminded of the vast difference in the normalcy of your world versus the extravagance of his.
shaking the thought away, you chalk it up to your overactive imagination getting the best of you; the trip takes longer than you thought it would — or, maybe it’s because you’re eager to get back to bed — but when you do finally arrive, you hop out of the carriage swift as ever, giving instructions on how to carefully carry the boxes. you refuse to let doflamingo find a reason to criticize all the hard work you put in.
you’re whisked off to an office off to the side of the main foyer, waiting for the man of the hour to appear so he can sign off on the contract that you brought with you. after ten minutes, you lose whatever’s left of your patience. they told you he’d be down soon — with him soon could mean anything; but you don’t have the same luxury as he does to play around with time. 
it’s a terrible idea, snooping around, allowing your anger to dictate your movements as you tug on a forbidden memory. on a hunch, your feet carry you up a staircase and after losing your bearings, you end up in a corridor that may or may not be familiar to you. 
“shit,” you mumble to yourself, clutching the envelope in your hand tightly as you think of what to do next. “this is stupid, i’ll just leave it in the office downstairs and fucking leave.”
in the near future, both of you will reflect on this moment and come to the agreement — begrudgingly, at that — that there were better ways to handle things. because he’s keen and hyperaware of his surroundings at all times, he yanks the door open rather quickly, startling you.
eyes wide as you stare up at him, his height every bit as imposing and fearsome as you remember, the envelope slips from your fingers and lands on the stone floor with a soft thud. on his face are his infamous red sunglasses, so you’re not exactly certain, but you’re sure he’s narrowing his eyes at you. he lifts a brow, his broad frame taking up so much space you almost want to ask him if he’s real.
“trespassing is a punishable offense,” he says with a tilt of his head, mouth curving into a wicked grin, “i thought i made that abundantly clear the last time.” you swallow hard, throat drying at the memory and drop low to pick up the envelope off the floor. his words prompt your hands to shake, so it takes longer than necessary for you to grab it. you told yourself sternly that you wouldn’t be alone with him again, and yet, here you are, trapped in his infuriating orbit.
“and i thought i made it clear,” you stand up and shoot him an irritated look, “that you can’t intimidate me the way you do the others.”  
a tight smile forms on his lips, your attitude has yet to improve, he realizes — which only makes him laugh, openly mocking you, enjoying the way your face morphs from confusion to understanding. you promised your aunt you’d stay out of trouble, and there you go, doing the one thing you promised you wouldn’t do. stupid, foolish, pitiful.
you berate yourself when he wraps a large hand around your forearm and unceremoniously pulls you into the room with him. your brows slope downward as your mouth is on autopilot once again, cementing your place at the top of his shit list for the day. 
“what is wrong with you?” you place the envelope onto his desk and put some distance between you; not that it matters, it never matters with him. “honestly? don’t answer that, i don’t care. just please sign those papers, i have things to do.” you don’t have anything else to take care of today; you just want to go to sleep and forget any of this happened.
“you’re a shitty liar,” he remarks carefully before making his way to his large desk chair, plopping down carelessly, legs spread as he watches you pace around his office — a skittish creature trapped with nowhere else to go. “i told you to get better at it or don’t bother lying to me at all.” he didn’t actually mean it; he has an uncanny ability to sniff out bullshit without even trying, and since people were usually too afraid to go against his commands, they rarely were dishonest. and if they were, it’s because he let them be.
pressing your lips together, you consider your words, but your anger boils over and you’re taking fast strides to get closer — you won’t back down, there’s too much at stake. your pride, for one — and you know if you let him see how easily he rattles you, you’ll never hear the end of it. your presumptuous attitude is hilarious, but he keeps that opinion to himself as he watches you, the way your eyes narrow at him sharply, the way your plump bottom lip juts out slightly, the way you’re moving your hands around animatedly as you talk.
he barely hears a word you say — something about him needing to humble himself or another — instead, he focuses on the shape of your mouth, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the roundness of your flushed cheeks, and on how he’s sure you’d look even better on your knees in front of him, putting that pretty mouth to good use by sucking his cock. 
choices, choices; there were simply too many choices. he really doesn’t have time to waste — he was warned earlier, and with the masquerade party in less than twenty-four hours, he still had things to take care of — but he finds it terrifyingly impossible to leave your side right now.
“are you even listening?” you ask after a moment, chest rising as you inhale deeply.
doflamingo fixes you with a steely glare, “no.” because why the fuck would he need to? you weren’t saying anything remotely worth listening to, and he was tired of you acting like he wasn’t the one currently in control. you scoff at his blase attitude, but you were more annoyed with yourself. getting riled up so easily, letting him derail you from your mission.
“figures,” you mumble, unsure of why you’re even bothering in the first place, but those thoughts are interrupted when he pulls you onto his lap, annoyance evident on his face. he can’t believe he let you run your mouth like that for that long, and for what? for him to remain frustrated, still? ridiculous. he refuses d to let you carry on like this.
you straddle his leg, hands landing on his chest as your eyes widen in shock. foolish, foolish, foolish. your tongue darts out and briefly runs along your bottom lip. all of your logic disappears, your dress riding up your thighs, exposing more of your skin. you’re not thinking when you scoot closer; you’re not thinking when you inhale sharply, enjoying the warm scent of his cologne more than you’d like to admit; and you’re definitely not thinking when he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking hard, where you respond with a pleading whimper.
you’re reminded of another time, where you’d delivered yet another rush order, and he insisted on having you near him while he sampled the pastries. before you left, he offered to triple his payment if you fed him one of the tiny strawberry pastries. you considered telling him off, but the idea of taking more money from him tempted you terribly. so you agreed; what you didn’t count on, was him licking powdered sugar off of your fingers, nor did you anticipate him licking the inside of your wrist. it happened so fast, your mind spun around several times over, and then his lips were on yours. a man like doflamingo takes, and takes, and takes. and in that moment, you were okay with it, and kissed him back like it made all the sense in the world.
you never imagined he’d have his hands on you again, especially when you tried so hard to avoid him as much as you could; but you’re much more pliant than you normally are, back arching when his lips drag down the length of your neck. there are a lot of things you want to tell him, but your mind goes blank; all of your resolve dissipates, and now all you can think about is kissing him again. it’s maddening, that desire, creeping through you at an alarming rate, making you roll your hips forward and rub against his erection.
a pain in his ass, that’s what you are; especially now. he bites you in warning, leaving behind a reddish mark on your exposed shoulder. you’re well aware by now just how effective he is at doling out punishments for disobedience. not that you ever really know, his whims are notorious for being deadly, unpredictable, and inescapable. so it shouldn’t surprise you when he grabs your chin roughly, or when he lifts you onto his desk, or when he pushes you down, your back hitting the wooden surface hard enough to make you gasp, while his large hand holds your hip tightly.
“i think you’re misunderstanding your predicament, here,” he drawls, his voice deep and husky, curling around you wickedly. he hadn’t anticipated he’d take things this far, but if he let you go without teaching you a lesson, he’d never forgive himself. “what did i tell you the last time i caught you?”
lips trembling, thighs rubbing together, you say nothing; and how can you? a flurry of images infiltrate your mind — scenes from a memory, tucked safely into a dark corner of your heart, out of order and sporadic; a dream that easily turns into a nightmare whenever you think about it too hard. as if on cue, his hands coast along the curves of your legs, the softness of your thighs — unmarred, like a blank canvas waiting to be conquered — tempt him; he yanks up your dress, annoyed that you’re laying there acting as if you don’t know what to do.
when he manages to tug it up high enough, bunching up the fabric around your waist, you, at the very least, have the sense to pull it off of you. it’s the least you can do, to make up for your sluggish movements from earlier.
you still haven’t answered him, even as he spreads your legs apart, even as his long fingers tease you through your panties and pinch your clit mercilessly. the yelp you let out is melodious and hypnotic; he wants to hear you do it again. 
“what’s the matter?” he asks, faux-concern lacing each word, but you know better than to trust that, “you were so eager to run your fucking mouth earlier.” doflamingo grabs your face with his hand, fingers sinking into your skin roughly, your lips parting but, again, words fail you. it’s then that it occurs to him that maybe you want to get under his skin as much as he wants to get under yourself.
well, so be it.
his mouth latches onto your throat, tongue licking down the length of it, your skin burning the longer he touches you. your whimpers aren’t enough, he wants to hear you lose yourself, writhe underneath him, and beg him to fuck you — if he bides his time, he knows you’ll get to that point. he just has to break you in a bit, first.
you’re not sure why you’re letting him dictate the pace of things; maybe it’s because you know that in the end, you covet the obsessive quality of his focus whenever he’s around you; maybe you don’t actually dislike him, and maybe you like the rough way he handles you. his teeth graze your skin as he continues kissing and sucking on your skin, your soft pants and moans aren’t enough — he wants more, more more. your hips lift up to meet his again as he trails kisses onto the curves of your breasts; he means to ask where your bra is, your nipples harden under his tough, fingers rough against the soft nubs, your thighs shaking as you feel the front of your panties dampen.
it’s all so embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to let that stop you. it’s when you deliberately rub yourself against his erection again — his cock stiff, precum leaking out of his slit angrily, the liquid seeping into the fabric of his underwear — that you realize you’re not the only one suffering from arousal. it’s aggravating, the way his body reacts to you — you don’t have to do much, and that’s a damn problem that he needs to rid himself of. quickly.
because he has no tact or decorum, doflamingo doesn’t think twice before biting you over and over again, leaving bruising marks down your stomach, tongue savoring the taste of your skin. your panties are torn off of you before you can protest, and he steps back to admire you, that devilish grin returning when he sees how eager you are for him to continue. 
“pathetic,” he remarks callously, an idea popping into his mind as he instructs you to hold onto the backs of your thighs. once you follow his command, his fingers twitch and you feel thin strings — practically invisible to the untrained eye — dig into your skin; they wrap around your wrists, securely binding each hand to your thigh. “much better,” he actually sounds pleased with himself and you for cooperating. 
he spreads you apart again, your cunt bare, exposed, dripping and aching with need; he knows what you want, he just doesn’t know if he wants to give it to you.
“tell me,” he says slowly, his fingers slipping between the folds of your pussy, your slick clinging onto his skin, “should i leave you here, like this?” on his desk, unfulfilled, as he carries on with his day. you can’t spend your day cooped up in his office, so you shake your head, curls bouncing everywhere. panic fills you when gives you the sort of smile that makes you think he’s absolutely considering doing just that. when his fingers tease your entrance, you can’t take it anymore.
“please,” you whisper, face flushed, heart beating out of control, debilitating and desperate. “i…please.”
again, he tilts his head at you, his confusion isn’t real, neither is his curiosity — doflamingo is mocking you, but you don’t seem to care.
“‘please’ what?” whatever patience he pretended to have earlier is completely gone, his own breathing much too loud in his ears, his cock obnoxiously reminding him that it’s still very much hard and if he doesn’t do something about it now, he’ll live to regret it later. 
you hate that he’s going to make you say it; shame eats at you, makes your face grow hot, your eyes shutting as you muster courage. “d-do something.” you don’t know what you want him to do, honestly; but you know that if he doesn’t help you alleviate that ache, you might actually die today.
“why should i?” his voice is calm as his fingers plunge inside of you recklessly, filling your pussy without remorse, the intrusion a welcomed distraction, even as your hands tug on your restraints foolishly. he reminds himself that he really should get going, that he has another meeting to attend, but instead he hovers over you, a menacing presence that won’t go away, his wrist flicking as he thrusts his thick fingers in and out of you, admiring the way your wetness spills onto his palm, your moans encouraging him to keep going.
“answer me,” he halts his movements, your hips bucking against his hand, silently begging as you swallow hard.
“doflamingo,” you say his name like a curse, like you’re angry that it’s his fault you’re out of breath and panting like that; you say his name again when he resumes fucking you with his fingers, your pussy clenching around him, the squelching noises making you tremble like a fragile animal. you’re so annoyed at yourself, at the way you crave his touch so much, at how you don’t want him to stop anytime soon. he extracts his fingers and runs his tongue along the inside of your thigh, mouth and teeth leaving behind more marks — love bites, he’ll say later — before he gives your pussy the sort of lick that has you stuttering around the syllables of his name.
again, he only means to tease you — a lie he keeps telling himself — so it’s really not his fault that he finds it difficult to ignore the way your cunt keeps calling out to him. each swipe of his tongue brings out more lewd sounds from you; breathy moans, loud whimpering, your cries put him in an unshakeable trance as his tongue slips into you. hips bucking up against his face, he pauses and tells you to behave before carrying on again, eating your pussy like he’s a man possessed. your taste is something he couldn’t get off of his mind for months before, and now? he’s sure he’s on a path to a different level of madness; ridiculous thoughts bouncing around his mind as he considers whether or not to keep you here with him, where he can play with you as he pleases.
you want to touch him too, but he won’t let you, almost as if touching him is a privilege that you won’t acquire anytime soon. in reality, it’s because he knows if he lets you free, he might not have the upper hand anymore. and he can’t have that. doflamingo slurps your pussy messily, your moans turning into high pitched cries, and even though you know he wants you to keep still, you just can’t. especially when his tongue glides up higher and flicks against your sensitive clit repeatedly — and your body reacts accordingly, back arching off of the desk, the papers you’re laying on are stained from your slick, but you can’t think about that now. 
all you can think about is how his mouth is hot against your pussy, how his teeth bring about a bit of pain that you can’t get enough of, and how he still refuses to kiss you. instead, he kisses your pussy sloppily, tongue lapping at your wetness as an orgasm builds inside of you, threatening to make you implode at the rate he’s going. you feel so helpless, like a doll, commanded by his tongue, hips jerking up as your ride his mouth, a feverish desire overwhelming you immediately. your vision blurs, you can hardly keep up, and doflamingo takes pleasure in ripping an orgasm out of you, one that has you thrashing against him wildly, your body convulsing, crying out his name until your voice grows hoarse.
a loud knock on the door has you clamp your mouth shut, making him laugh and laugh, lips glistening with your arousal as he smiles slyly at you. you’re absolutely perfect like this, he wishes he could capture this moment so he could revisit it later. the knocking persists, making him grunt in annoyance, and you watch him, through your eyelashes, lids lowering before your eyes widen at the impact of his slap — your pussy throbs incessantly, the pain too good to ignore.
it only takes a few strides before he’s prying the door open, fingers coated with your wetness. the event planner asks him unnecessary questions, her eyes darting to his hand before moving back up to his face; his body blocks the sight of you, for some reason he feels possessive — protective, even — although he doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he enjoyed eating your pussy, taking his time to lick his fingers in front of the woman, making her take a half step back, face flushed in embarrassment. 
he doesn’t get her apprehension and discomfort. “you’re interrupting my meal,” is all he says, which prompts her to apologize profusely. you hate how you still want him to fuck you, even as he more or less keeps you bound like that for longer than you want to be, even as he reminds the stupid woman that she’s wasting his time, going so far as to say his food will spoil if she doesn’t wrap things up. you hate the way your pussy clenches around nothing, at how you’ve found yourself in an impossible situation all over again. he has half a mind to leave you like that, the thought getting stronger with each passing second, but that wouldn’t do; too many people bother him throughout the day and he refuses to let anyone else see you like this.
his benevolence knows no bounds when he slams the door in the woman’s face, cutting off their conversation after he tells her — rudely — to figure things out for herself, knowing damn well that he’ll have her head if his party isn’t perfect. you shift around, papers rustling underneath your body, ink bleeding through a few of the pages — and if you knew, you’d never be able to look at doflamingo ever again. 
“we’ll have to pick this conversation up another time, kitten,” he says suddenly, all hints of playfulness now gone. he releases you from you from your bindings, your wrists an angry shade of red, the indentations from the string visible enough to anyone who cares to look closely. “i’ve got a party, and you have…things to bake.” or whatever it is that commoners do with their free time.
teeth clenched, you quickly hop off of the desk, legs wobbly but you refuse to let him see you stumble around. you pull your dress back on, fix your hair as best as you can, and glare at him sharply over your shoulder.
“whatever it is you want to say,” he cuts you off, a frown settling on his lips, “save it. you don’t want me to get angry, do you?” you don’t, and you know better. so you sigh bitterly and leave; walking as fast as you can, your thighs wet from your cum, you know there will be questions when you get back home, but you don’t care. you need to get far away from him, you need to forget about him, about the way he caressed your skin last time, and forget about the way he kissed you — like he couldn’t believe he’d crave your lips like that. likewise, he’s having a similar conversation with himself, annoyed he let you escape like that, but he knows that if he stayed with you any longer, neither of you would leave his office the same.
 he knows the best course of action is to purge himself of any and all thoughts of you, but, if he’s honest with himself — and he’s not very honest — he knows it’ll be impossible, especially now that he’s had a proper taste of you, after he’s committed your reactions and pussy to memory, and after he almost found himself kissing you.
🌙 credit to leafsea for the cute crescent moon divider 🌙
162 notes · View notes
batstorm93672 · 1 year
Text
"I'm so glad to have my son back"
Damian looked at the woman, he recognizes her profile. Case file #398, Mariam Anderson, in her madness she killed her son and had went missing. It seems she's been wanting to relive her family, Damian was wearing different clothes most likely her son's own clothes. A red stripped shirt and brown shorts, not exactly his style.
"You're sick"
"I will not tolerate disrespect. You either do as I say or face the consequences"
"..."
"Good boy. Now show me that smile of yours"
Damian swallowed all self-respect as he faked a grin, he can't escape this. Mariam basically glowed and folded her hands in joy. "Oh my dear. How skinny you've become, here eat up" Scrambled eggs, in comparison Alfred would destroy this abomination. Alfred's not here, his family is not here. It's only him and this woman.
Damian forced the food down and Mariam seemed pleased. "Good, now time for you to go to sleep"
Damian nodded and followed her as she led him to a dirty bed. It was completely swarmed in dust and filth. "Sleep tight little one, do know that I have you on surveillance so try not to do anything that may get you in trouble"
"Goodnight"
Mariam smiled and kissed him on the forehead, it took everything in Damian to not recoil from the feeling.
.
Terrifying to wake up to feel metal around your neck and beeping. "W-what are you doing?" "Just a little precaution, it's so you know that you shouldn't misbehave" Damian subdued the shiver in his spine. "P-Please let me go, this isn't right and I'm sure you know it. My father is looking for m-" A rippling shock stopped Damian from his next words. Mariam looked pissed and trembled "Your father is gone! He died from Gotham's streets and filth. That's why I need to protect you forever, I can't lose you. And now you won't ever escape my love. Together forever, the filth of Gotham will never breach it's claws into you... ahem-" Mariam smoothed her hair back "-you look so dirty, let me draw you a bath and then you can eat and then you can have some time to read! Doesn't that sound fun?" Damian nodded "Your manners are lacking my dear, say "yes mom"" "...Yes mom"
Damian was stripped and by God did he want to bury himself into a hole and set it ablaze. "Come on my dear, step in, it's warm and waiting. I also got you your favorite bubble soap!" "Thank you mom"
She scrubbed his back, the sponge felt like stone against his back. "Where did you get all these scars?" "Um, the filth of Gotham I suppose..." "Oh my dear, luckily I'm here to save you" "I'm grateful for your help..." Mariam hugged him from behind, Damian wanted to crawl out of his skin and wither away.
She dressed him back up and served pancakes with bacon (God he missed Pennyworth's cooking with all of his heart) Damian gobbled the pancakes down and slightly nudged the bacon aside. "Son, eat your bacon" "I'm a vegetarian" "Nonsense, eat you need the food" Damian stabbed into the bacon and shoved it down. So badly did he want to throw it back up. "I brought you a book, it's your favorite" Damian grabbed the book and opened it, he missed the library in which he ended up reading with his animals curled up or with his siblings around.
Damian finished the book and shut it "Mariam, this isn't healthy. Please let me go, you can get help-" A harsh sting went across his face and Mariam's hand was pinkish-red. "You are out of line! Go on time-out now!" Damian's eyes were wide as walked to where she pointed, a chair in which he sat down and she wrapped leather to hold him in place. "M-Mom... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it" "Then that means next time you'll be better behaved" The collar beeped and Damian flinched as soon as the electricity went through his body. Screaming he heaved as he fought against the leather. "P-Please I'm sorry mom! I'm so sorry!" "...very well, I'm glad you learned your lesson"
.
It's been three days and Damian was just about willing to die again if it meant he doesn't have to he here.
Mariam got more violent, oddly some resemblance to Talia is all Damian saw, apparently his last attempt to appease to her senses was it.
"Mom... please let me go, I want to go out. I don't want to be trapped, I don't want to be held forever like this" Mariam stabbed the knife into the cutting board and turned around. "That... is exactly what he said too. I'm disappointed, I thought you'd be better, but just like him, heh, just like him... it seems I'll have to start over" In a blink of an eye, Damian was on the ground and Mariam was on top. Hands wrapped around his throat he began to lose air quickly. "M-M-Mom, stop you're hurting me! It hurts mom" "SHUT UP! YOU'RE NOT MY SON NOW, YOU FAILED ME" Damian saw a chance, the button in her pocket. Reaching and pressing it, the electric shock hurting them both, due to her and training it barely messed with him, Mariam however is a different story. Damian let go as some air was back through his throat and then a loud bang echoed, Mariam was shoved off.
Nightwing was in view "Damian! Oh God, Red Robin you got something to get this off?!" "Stay back" Red Robin touched the collar and in a few seconds it clicked off. Damian sprung up and felt at his neck, the collar was probably marked now. Mariam struggled against Red Hood who had pinned her down and made eye contact with Damian, she smiled and looked completely insane. "My son! Help me, this is what I was saving you from! Gotham's filth will stain you!" "M-mom..." Damian shut his eyes and turned around, throwing up all the bile he was forced to eat.
Red Hood grabbed a gun and used the back of it to knock her cold "That's enough out of you"
"Take me home... please take me home"
14 notes · View notes
Text
OK.
Dharma drops the tree trunk off the side of the universe and rejoins the fellahs on the couch.
Lay it on us
Truly I am interested this is uncharted territory..
The fucking navigating shit with you
Sorry
Those who are with out a vagina
The three non-vagina havers sit stacked closely together on the arm of the right side of the couch. Dharma oblivious lays across it and tosses a leg over the back. Percy is bumbled with the look of a man who just have a light bulb blow up in his face but is completely unharmed, and thusly terrified.
It's a bunch of non creative creative types.
Sponges!?
I knew it was fucking sponges, why is it always with the world.
Cork or the cactus?
*pop*
Yeah, they are sponges but take the dick out of your ears for a goddammit second and learn.
Valla.
Circles
Start hula hooping for bikini season?
Man Walton ever since Gwyong got put back together, and you put those gorgeous star-gazer lillies in her its like there are other parts to you I haven't noticed before. You're like complete and I really had a different definition of you.
THATS WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARY OF YOU GORGEOUS FLOOD OF FIRE WITH AN AMAZING PENIS GREAT SMILE KILLER PERSONALITY AND JUST GODDAMN EVERYTHING.
You know fucking finally i...
Look. Where's Walton? Find Walton for me NOW!
Percy and Reggie looked high and lo. Through spring and summer through fall, fuck winter, and spring again.
You didn't find him did you.
No and I barely remember what he looked like come to think of it.
Because he has one value in this world. And that is fat nerdy slug thing librarian. That the hooch that spills out his taps, and you switched him to water.
Water is the devil
It's so fucking stupid
Cue the monkeys.
I hole at least they wear
Tap shoes this time.
*pop* *pop*
You made him real. Stole his thunder and pissed all over his flaws which are what people long for and made him relatable. People don't want that shit. Especially that load of cock pockets. They need their lovely lady lumps getting soulful destroyed and cock pumped by elephant constellations trumpeting their conquest of a fool to standing ovations, and beware of snake oil salesmen dressed up as interesting well thought out respectable things.
They need their sale too.
But what's more important?
That they are fracturing into different groups. Smaller groups.
We would be overwhelmed to take them on all at once, but we can certainly call on some friends that haven't been fleshed out yet.
That doesnt..oh.
I always liked labyrinth.
WWHD?
He wouldn't be deceitful. He would have helped. He..
He...
He would not give a shit because he's Henson. That I'm actually the incredible shooting star from another shooting star
From another shooting star
Oh my God.
They know that too.
Patrick Stewart was headlining Othello at the Shakespeare Theatre the summer after my freshman year, and I got to do my summer jnternship there. While I was massacering some Merchant of Venice mother fucking Jean Luke <---not doing it Picard rolls up and asks Cathy for a quarter to use the pay phone. He was just normal. I couldn't even tell you the color of his sweater I imagined was his chiseled silver chest holding me down and enterprising into my crap clapper (i can't or I'm not ready pick one) point is, he was only interesting on stage, because that was where his baguette got deep throated by the lizard bread sucking people of Mrenium 7..
Ok
Yeah this might work
.seeds I'm already thinking about that catching in my wind pipe.
Oh god
Yeah
Move on.
Sorry.
Bitch.
Point is. The enterprise flies when you are on it. This plates don't spin with out your grin. Pick the ones that better you and then the other ones be forgotten. Trust me. 15k a clap is gonna stick and none of them are worth you magically dancing around the world and encouraging things to grow. (Boom subtle bones jokes. It's not subtle if your are congratulating yourself here. I sure as fuck am. I'm still alone and I need to be ok with that. )
We need to treat me like a business then. That means that though you are well educated and it looks like you are doing cool things with the material the free lunch program is over. I will happily keep this food truck plucking by but I need things, and for once, seeing as how you have kept quiet this whole time. You will have to do me the honor of asking. As well as signing a non disclosure form. It's all swell for all of you to talk about being small and not having the means for things. I don't either, crap excuse. Specially since I'm the literal butthole you've danced around and I hav ent been paid shit. Hmmmn ok I know how to say this.
Thank you guys for giving me my light back, I am excited to collaborate with some of you. I am going to go dark for a while and figure out how to secure my ideas. I'm happy you think your spin on them is great it is probably really great. Feel free to run with what you have, but artist to artist...thats real fucking weak, I mean come on. Anyways. Going to try and fail all over the place, but gonna try and limit your view, maybe it's worth something to you, maybe it ain't. But judging by how entrapped in my own self indulgent little story weaving I'm leading you down....
Yeah
Gottem
OK we can do this.
So many neat things and like they still do dumb shit with them. God and man I am a good actor or I'm a good learner something like that cause they are stuck on stupid.
Spinning plates
Spinning plates
Spinning plates
Spinning plates
Spinning plates
Spinning plates
0 notes
americxn · 3 years
Text
How the Evans act when you’re in a bad mood
warnings: swearing, mentions of sex
TATE LANGDON
- Once he’s certain that he had nothing to do with your bad mood, he kind of just leaves you be, thinking that it would be best to let you simmer for a while before interfering. - When he decides that he’s bored and misses your company, he seeks you out, a bowl of ice cream clutched in his hands as a peace offering, even though he’s not the reason why you’re in a bad mood. - You would take the bowl from his hands with a straight face, immediately shovelling a spoonful into your mouth. - With a sigh, he would say: “You’re a pain in the ass when it comes to trying to cheer you up.” Without even looking at him you would reply with: “I learn from the best.” Your words come out mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream. - Only when half of your bowl is gone do you turn to Tate, thanking him and offering him a spoonful, which he doesn’t dare accept. - And then he takes you to your bedroom, forcing you to change into your comfy clothes, which you begrudgingly do whilst glaring at the wall. - But it’s worth it when Tate opens his arms for you and you almost trip over your own feet in your eagerness to be folded into his warmth. - “Do you wanna actually tell me what’s got you all moody?” He would ask softly. “Nope.” You would say simply, stifling a smile at his overly exaggerated sigh as he fell back onto the bed, taking you with him. - Breathing in the scent of him, your head on his chest, you would finally feel the edges of your frustration wearing off, Tate’s soft breaths ruffling some strands of hair atop you head. - After several minutes of cuddling into your boyfriend in silence, Tate would utter the dreaded question of: “Are you on your (man)period?” Even if you didn’t have periods, this would earn him a playful smack on the arm and a newly-irritated sigh into his chest. 
KIT WALKER - Kit didn’t even have to be told that you were in a bad mood, his demeanour changing the second you entered the room he was residing in. - “Are we gonna talk about it or no?” He would say cooly, looking up at you from his spot on the couch as you entered. You would turn your nose up at his offer. “Absolutely not.” You would state, flopping onto his body, Kit grunting, and positioning yourself so that your head was in his lap. “Just hold me.” You would mumble. - Kit would chuckle softly, his hand finding its way into your hair as you sighed and muttered incoherent whispers of anger to yourself, much to Kit’s silent amusement. - Kit would stroke your head in silence, honestly just happy to have you so close to him for so long but eventually you would sit up, the brunt of your mood having dissipated with Kit’s loving touch. - “Better?” He would murmur, making you nod happily. “Good.” Kit would state, shifting his weight so that he could flip you over, settling on top of you as you lay beneath him. - He would then lower his face to yours, his lips attacking your skin incessantly, refusing to let up until he heard you laugh beneath him. (franken)KYLE SPENCER
- Kyle, as a person who often suffered from low moods due to his difficulty in communication, could sense the moment when your mood would shift, immediately coming to your side and blinking at you in concern. - This could be annoying at times. - Sometimes, all you wanted to do was have some time to yourself, and although you loved Kyle to pieces, his constant presence could potentially worsen your mood, or sometimes even catalyse it. - The last time you were in a bad mood, you had directed your anger at Kyle when he began to trail you around the house uncertainly, causing you to raise your voice at him. Of course, you had felt terrible after this, your outburst not only worsening your mood, but sending Kyle into one as well; he hadn’t spoken a word to you until the day after. - So, you had explained to him that sometimes, as much as you loved him, you just wanted your own space. The next time your mood had suddenly dropped, he had approached you slowly, trying to gauge your reaction before either swooping in to make you feel better or leave you alone. - On the occasion that you didn’t want to be in Kyle’s presence, you would simply mutter a “sorry”, grateful when he scampered off and found something to do until you came to him.  - But, when Kyle’s comfort was wanted, you would smile softly at him, huffing a defeated laugh when he hurried to you, his embrace strong as he engulfed you in his warmth. - “Sad?” He would question glumly, at your silence giving you the option of “angry?” To which you would nod into his chest. - Kyle’s remedy for anger was baking: he would pile all the ingredients on the counter of your kitchen, silently passing you and bowl and a spoon and watching as you carelessly added the ingredients, stirring them all together angrily, most of the mixture splattering onto yourself and the surface of the counter.
JIMMY DARLING
- Jimmy is the type of person to make fun of you when you’re in a bad mood. It was his attempt of lessening your disposition. - Sometimes this worked, but sometimes it didn’t: Sitting alone under the shelter on the canteen tent, you huffed, frowning at the wood of the table in front of you. “Oof,” an amused shout came from behind you, causing you to turn you head in the direction it had come from. Jimmy swaggered towards you, his hand raised to his brow to block the sun from his eyes as he walked towards the shade of the canopy that you sat under. Scowling, you turned your head away from him, your shoulders curving inwards the hopes that he would get the message and turn around to let you brood. But of course he would do no such thing. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” He would comment, the old wooden bench you sat on wobbling from the force with which he plonked himself down next to you. “No shit.” You muttered, looking straight ahead.  “Geez, baby. What’s got you so worked up?” You turned to him with an unpleasant smile, the bite in your voice stark as you replied with “you and your insufferable attitude.” “Ouch.” He said, sounding completely unhurt by your comment. Your jaw worked as you became increasingly irritated by his presence. “Can you just fuck off? I love you and all but you being here is just making me get pissed at you.” He raised an eyebrow, his elbow coming to rest on the surface of the table, his chin falling into his palm in an action that gave you very much “like fuck I’m leaving” vibes. With a groan, you spun around, bringing your legs with you so that could stand from the bench. “Don’t follow me.” You ordered flatly. The bench creaked as he, too, stood, causing you to bristle. “Jimmy, I mean it.” You spun on him, your teeth gritted. He looked utterly unfazed at your tone, a small smirk on his lips.  “Make me leave you alone. Go on.” You knew what he was doing. He was trying to provoke you, trying to get you to fight with him so that you could let off some steam.  You sighed angrily. “No.” You said, turning and walking away. “Alright. Well I’ll be here when you decide you’re done being an ass.” He shouted after you, the shrug in his voice clear as you walked away, not taking his words to heart, his provoking intentions obvious. 
JAMES MARCH
- James would let you brood. He would notice your demeanour instantly, but he wouldn’t comment on it, instead leaving you to it or silently accompanying you in whatever you were doing. - In the off chance that you really didn’t want his company, all you had to do was shoot him a frustrated glance and he would be on his feet and out the door in an instant, only appearing again when you sought him out. - But when you wanted his presence, he would run you a hot bath complete with bubbles and sometimes even rose petals if he was feeling generous.  - “Here you are, my darling girl/boy/they” He would say fondly as he lead you by the hand to the bathroom, his heart fluttering at the little smile that his efforts would coax from you.  - Once you had submerged yourself into the perfectly warm water with a sigh, he would come to your side, kneeling beside the tub and reaching for the softest sponge you had, quickly rolling up his sleeves before lathering it with a pretty smelling soap. - With your head rested on the side of the bath, he would reach into the water with the sponge, softly running it along your skin and murmuring to you as you became more and more relaxed under his skilled touch. - “So, what is it exactly that has put you in such a mood?” He would venture as your eyes drifted shut. James was such a good listener, and an even better talker, listening intently as you rambled into the stillness of the bathroom, James nodding along and inputting his own agreements or thoughts as you did so. - It was in these moments that your love for James rammed into you with such a force that often you were reduced from a tight ball of irritation to a mess of emotion, your eyes filling with tears as James tended to you. - You would end up gazing at him intently as he spoke to you, his hands moving beneath the water of the bath, the ends of his sleeves getting soaked as he cleaned you. It was so intimate that very often, you couldn’t help but reach with wet hands for the front of his shirt, pulling him to you and landing a kiss to his lips before pulling him harder, your heart pounding as he chuckled breathily against your mouth, his clothes becoming absolutely soaked as he clambered into the hot water with you. - When the two of you eventually emerged from the water, the floor of the bathroom had become so drenched with suds and soap that ever Miss Evers shuddered at the thought of having to clean it.
KAI ANDERSON - Kai would just see you being in a mood as a reason to provoke you even more than he already did. - He loved when you snapped at him, standing up for yourself or throwing an insult at him; for whatever reason, there was something about you having an attitude that just really turned him on. - Strangely, Kai was usually very accommodating when it came to your emotions. If you were happy, he was always there to be happy with you or listen to you when you rambled through your tears or when you were angry, he would find a way to help you channel that feeling and let off your pent up anger.  - But when you were in a mood, Kai trailed after you, provoking you just to make you feel that much more frustrated, a feeling of smug accomplishment washing over him when you finally bit back. - Sometimes, very occasionally, Kai’s endless goading sometimes ended with the two of you engaging in very angry, hot as fuck sex, but very often you would simple shove your middle finger in his face and storm out of the house. Taking his car, you would drive around until his petrol light came on before returning home, driving around the neighbourhood a few times for good measure in petty revenge.  - The text message that Kai would send you the next day claiming that he almost didn’t make it to the gas station and that when he got home you were as good as dead always made his incessant stirring of your emotions seem worth it.
249 notes · View notes
wyn-n-tonic · 3 years
Text
I Don't Count
Word Count: 1,479 Warnings: Drinking. Mentions of a car accident (briefly). Soft caretaker baby Will Miller. It's just fluffy. Author's Note: Fully formed this out of my need for a hug and comfort and decided I wanted to write it for the only blonde haired, blue eyed man I'd ever let get in these guts.
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
The Millers still had a landline. Of course they did. Benny’s big brother was very staunch about his boundaries. If he wasn’t going out after work, his cellphone went off as soon as he walked across the threshold. If you needed to reach him for any reason after that, you could call the house phone.
“But it better be a goddamn emergency,” he’d always say.
She bit her thumbnail as it rang, leg bouncing to a nonsensical rhythm. A drumming only she could hear. Once, twice. It was her last ditch effort to reach her best friend, to hear his voice telling her everything is okay. Three times and,
“Hello?”
Not Benny.
She contemplates hanging up, her voice stuck somewhere in her chest. This was most certainly not an emergency no matter what the bottle she’d been nursing had to say about it. But she can’t. Can’t speak. Not to Will, not about this.
Can’t let the phone fall from her ears. Can’t even breathe.
“Shane,” he sounds concerned, “are you okay?”
“I uh—“ the breath releases, “I was looking for Benny.”
A small laugh on the other end, “it’s Tuesday, Sunshine, he’s at the gym.”
Sunshine, his nickname for her. It started out as Sunshane but he got pissed at the autocorrect of his own brain, stopped fighting it after a while.
A sharp sound rings through, a whistle to get her attention.
“You didn’t answer my question,” it’s warm, “are you okay?”
She sniffs, “yeah, Billy—“
Another laugh, both disbelieving and amused, “you can’t lie to me. What’s going on?”
“Just…” another swig, “have Benny call me when he gets home, okay?”
“Are you drinking?” Not amused.
“I’m an adult, Miller, I drink.” It’s harsh.
“Yeah,” another disbelieving laugh, this time at your boldness, “but you sound like shit. Why are you drinking?”
Because I’m forcing my feelings for you onto others and I have the gall to be shocked when it blows up in my face.
“Look,” she’s pacing the kitchen, “just have Benny give me a call when he gets home. I’m really sorry t—“
“Did that fucking boyfriend do something?”
There it is, the sob she’d been swallowing.
“Give me half an hour,” he whispers down the line, “I’ll have my cell if you need anything, okay?” —————
The bottle’s gone when there’s a knock at the door.
She jumps but settles back against the couch, believing it must be coming from somewhere deep within the wine soaked sponge of her brain.
But there it is again, “it’s me, Sunshine,” coming from the other side.
She stands too quickly, blood rushing to her head as her right foot struggles to come back to life. He knocks again, nothing if not persistent.
“Don’t make me bust down this door, you know I can do it.”
She fumbles with the chain lock with wildly inebriated fingers, scratching desperately with her nails to get it through that little fucking hole. It springs free and she’s working at the deadbolt, much simpler, before throwing the door wide to the man on the other side.
“Would you really have busted down my door, Miller?” She slurs out, ever the lightweight.
He shrugs, “yeah but… I would’ve built you a new one so…”
“What's that?” She notices the bags for the first time, swinging idly at his side.
“I figured you were about halfway through the bottle earlier when you called, based on how the swish of liquid sounded on the pho—“
She rolls her eyes, “it's fucking creepy how you do that.”
“—so I brought cheeseburgers.”
She launches unsteadily toward him, wrapping her arms around his midsection.
“May I come in?”
His scent fills her senses, fresh laundry and a hint of Tom Ford as she nods against his broad chest.
Letting go, she stumbles back into the tiny apartment, the couch taking over the entire wall of the living room, and plops back down with her feet tucked under her as she makes grabby hands for the bag in Will’s hand.
He catches her out of his peripheral while he refastens the lock on the door, “can you be patient?”
“Absolutely not,” she whines out, “I'm starving.”
He toes his shoes off at the door and pads to the front of the couch, in front of her, and kneels down. He reaches into the bag and hands her a burger, “I got you two singles because I know you feel self conscious when you try to eat a double. Even when you’re alone.”
“But I’m not alone,” she mumbles through a bite, wrapper torn in half as soon as it touched her hands.
“I don’t count, I’m just Will.”
She almost chokes at that, because he does count.
“I'm really not trying to deep throat a fucking Big Mac in front of my best friend’s older brother.”
“Oh,” he stands and kisses the top of her head, “Is that all I am?”
Absolutely not.
She watches him walk into the kitchen, the clinking of glass and the sound of the tap rushing back out to meet her.
Thoughts swim in her drunk mind, the events of the day—the phone call, the fight, the follow up text messages. Colin’s raised voice still ringing through her ears as he accused her, “I don’t know if it’s Will or Ben but you’re fucking one of them and I’m done!”
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He’s soft, pulling the wrapper from her hands and pushing a glass of water in place of it.
“Um, ya know,” she swallows hard around the lump building in her throat again, “just what typically happens with men in my life.”
He looks defeated, apologetic. Colin’s not the first to accuse her of being with a Miller. It’s been a theme of the last three—Ryan, John, Adam—and this makes four. Four men that William Miller wishes he could add to his confirmed kills list.
That’s not what she wants to hear right now though, no matter how safe his words of protection always make her feel. Because it doesn’t matter.
“I'm sorry,” his heavy hand falls on the bare skin of her calf, sending a bolt of electricity through her body.
She was relieved.
Colin wasn’t right but he wasn’t far off from the truth she’s been hiding.
She’s in love with William Miller.
“Hey, Sunshine” his rough thumb across the smooth skin guides her back, “where are you?”
The alcohol has her still, a looseness in the hurt of her heart that makes up her mind before she fully realizes the words are already coming out of her mouth.
“He’s not wrong, Billy. None of them have really been wrong.”
He laughs, fingers stilled on her leg and she is aching for the movement to return as his stare seeps through her pores.
“You and Benny got something you need to tell me?”
Her breath is shaky.
She trails her fingers along his wrist before placing her palm on the back of his. Now or never.
“I think it’s more like you and I have something to tell Benny.”
He pulls away, blue eyes piercing through her, “you're drunk, Shane.”
“Just enough to not give a shit anymore,” she whispers, lifting herself up to her knees and pressing closer to him, “I know how we look at each other, Will.”
“Benny will kill us.”
She giggles, “I’ve been to his fights, my money’s on you.”
His heart swells as his laughter jumps up to meet hers. This is the first time they’ve been alone together, properly alone, since he realized his love ran deeper than that of just a friend.
When he realized on the last mission that he just really missed the smell of her hair when she gives him a hug. Or the way she laughs the hardest out of everybody whenever he tells a dumb joke.
He came home and, to stop himself from being reckless, made sure that he was only ever around when Benny was. He didn’t want to fuck up Benny’s friendship, that was something his little brother could excel at on his own.
But now, with her full lips inches from his, he decides.
It’s a decision he made less than an hour ago when her name popped up on the caller ID—she’d only called the house phone one other time, a car accident, and that same worry seeped beneath his skin again.
Her fingers run through the soft hair on the side of his head, his lips heavy against hers as he pulls her in and pushes her down.
He breaks away, “Are you sure?”
A question that dies with a crash as she tugs him back to her and he melts against her warmth when—
Her phone vibrates.
Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll…
Benny.
TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @princess76179 | @bbuckysbeardd | @notcookiebelle | @knivesareout | @phoenixpascal | @lexi-b-writes | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @starlightmornings​ | @soyelfuegoquearde​
255 notes · View notes
happysoldlady · 3 years
Text
Game Night - Ezekiel Reyes
Tumblr media
a/n: sorry that I went MIA again. y’all know how it is. here’s this. I cried. 
taglist: @woahitslucyylu​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @peaches007​ @cocotheclown​
You and EZ had been together for a little over a year, him being patched for a few months now. Most of the time the two of you were too exhausted to do much of anything but eat dinner and sleep. But once a month, at least, the two of you hosted game night for the club at your house. It wasn’t anything crazy, as all the members brought their wives and Coco usually brought Letty. It was something for all of you to do as a group that didn’t involve killing anyone, so everyone was on board. 
You had taken off work early today, and then wasn’t scheduled for tomorrow and you thought that tonight would be a great night for the infamous game night. You had been cooking literally all day, as feeding the whole crew was a job in itself. EZ had made sure that everyone knew to be there around 7:30, so they could all eat with plenty of time to play whatever game they decided on. It was nearing on 6:30 now, and you had a little mix of everything. The large spread calling your name as the smells made for a delicious enticement. 
You were keeping an eye on the rolls in the oven when you heard EZ’s bike pull up. You immediately smiled and peeked out the kitchen window to see him backing the bike up toward your garage so that all the other members could park with ease. 
You cracked the oven open to see your rolls a crispy brown. You grin, grabbing an oven-mitt and pulling them out.  You’re arranging them into a oblong bowl when EZ walks through the door, throwing his keys onto the small table beside it. He strolls into the kitchen and you swear you almost hear him moan at the spread of food. 
“How long have you been cooking?” EZ asks, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter, watching you. 
You place the last roll in the bowl, and then grab the cling wrap from underneath the sink to wrap around them hoping to keep them fresh for when the men start rolling in. 
“Feels like forever.” You say, leaning to give him a sweet kiss before pulling the cling wrap out of it’s box. 
You spend the next hour swatting at his hands, and then forcing him to go shower before everyone got there. You just hear the water turn on when you hear the first few bikes pull up. 
You touch up your lipstick and then open the door to step out onto the porch to greet everyone. Angel, of course, is first, him planting a kiss to your cheek as he walks inside. Then, Coco strolls up your porch, with a less than enthused Letty in toll. 
“Coco...” You greet with a grin, pulling him into a hug. You feel his jaw twitch as he bites back a smile. He also presses a kiss to your cheek and then strolls inside, stopping under the door frame to wait on Letty. She gives you a tight smile and a nod and you return it with a friendly grin, watching as they disappear inside. 
Gilly jogs up the steps and pulls you into hug. “I’m gonna give you a hug while EZ isn’t around to get pissed about it.” You both laugh, and he presses a kiss to your cheek before he also walks inside. 
You follow him inside to wait for the other members. Angel, Gilly and Coco always show up early so that they feel like they get first dibs on the food. You swat Angel’s hand away from the fried tortillas and then wink at Letty as she swipes a strawberry from the fruit tray. 
“Boy scout in the shower?” Coco asks, leaning against a wall. 
You smile and nod. “He should be almost done.” 
Angel, Gilly and Coco all exchange a look before they’re rushing down the hallway to the bathroom to pester him. 
You laugh and move the bowl of rolls to the end of the spread, and then making sure everything still looks fresh. 
“No lemonade this time?” Letty asks. Her eyes are peering at you from the opening in the kitchen and you smile. 
“You know, I forgot all about it. Do you wanna make some while we wait for the others?” You ask, walking to a cabinet above the stove and pulling out the lemonade mix. 
Letty hesitates for a second and then nods. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” 
You wave her over and show her how much mixture to put into the pitcher and then how much water. She nods, and then starts scooping. You smile encouragingly and then ask about her day. Of course she only gives you simple answers but you figure that that’s better than nothing. 
“I fucking hate you guys.” You hear EZ grumble and you see the three of them shoving each other as they return back to the living room. You and Coco make eye contact and he looks proud to see Letty doing something productive. 
“And I just fill the water up to this line?” Letty asks for clarification, holding the pitcher up to the light to get a better look. You hum and nod, pointing to the line in question. “Seems too easy.” She says, shaking her head, but she sticks the pitcher under the faucet and turns it on anyway. 
“I like to stir mine as I fill it up, but that’s up to you.” You say, laying a spoon down on the counter. You decide leave her be, but as your turning to cross into the living room, she picks the spoon up and starts stirring. 
EZ’s in a freshly ironed black t-shirt (thanks to you) and a different pair of jeans. His cut is folded over the back of one of the recliners as he ties his boots on. 
“Well don’t you look handsome.” You comment, and the boyish grin he gives you makes you smile. He finishes tying his boots and then stands, giving you a short kiss. His hand lingers on your hip and there’s a familiar twinkle in his eye that you can’t wait to explore later. 
“I don’t think y’all have time for a quickie.” Angel remarks, and then picks up the clock to look at for emphasis. Gilly and Coco both laugh but EZ just shakes his head. 
The five of you sit in the living room and talk for a little while before Letty strolls in carrying two glasses of lemonade. She hands one to you with a proud look on her face. 
“It’s not bad.” She says, taking a sip of her own and then looking at you expectantly. 
You smile and then take a drink. “This is really good! Better than mine, for sure.” 
Letty smiles proudly, lifting her head a little and then takes a seat next to Coco who gives her a soft look. 
It isn’t much longer until you hear the motorcycles rolling up outside. You stand and smooth out your dress, and EZ pulls his cut over his shoulders. The two of you open up the front door and greet the older Mayans as the walk in, along with their wives. 
Before you know it, everyone’s already eaten and are scattered across your living room with a handful of cards, and a drink. Gilly, Coco, Riz and Angel are all playing a game of poker. Bishop, Tranq, and almost all of the wives are focused on a game of rummy. And you, Letty, EZ and Creeper are playing monopoly. Creeper is losing badly and he’s already so deflated by Letty’s natural gift toward capitalizing that he’s not even putting up a fight anymore. 
“Shit, man!” Creeper curses as Letty lands on yet another free parking. You want to be mad for your own game but you can’t help but feel at least a little responsible for the wicked grin on Letty’s face as she scoops all of the monopoly money towards her pile. 
EZ’s been particularly touchy for most of the night. Little things. A hand on your back as you offer drinks. A helping hand when someone actually takes you up on your offer. A hand on your thigh while the four of you rotate through your monopoly turns. A kiss to the hairline when he catches you gleaming at a giddy Letty. 
After most of the house clears out, and you’re waving goodbye to the slew of bikes rumbling down your street, you make your way inside to see EZ picking up beer bottles and paper plates, his hands balancing way too many. You smile, and rush over to him, praying to god he doesn’t spill any remains on your floors. 
“You don’t have to do that, baby.” You say, taking some of the plates from his grasp to lessen the load. He shakes his head, and continues to help straighten up your house. 
After most of the trash is picked up and the dirty dishes are at least near the sink, EZ’s focus turns to you. His hands slithering around your waist as your scrubbing one of the pans. 
“Leave that for tomorrow.” He mutters, planting wet kisses up your neck. You smile and lean into him. 
“If I do it now, then I don’t have to do it tomorrow, though.” You say, and you feel his chest rumble from behind you. 
“Fair enough.” He sighs, and then picks up a sponge. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do that. I got it.” 
“If we both do it, it gets done faster.” He says, giving you a sly grin. So there the two of you are, in your kitchen, talking softly over the soapy bubbles as you wash the dishes and he dries them. And he’s right, in less than twenty minutes, the entire kitchen is cleaned up, and the dishes are put away. 
You plop down on the couch with an exasperated breath, and EZ sits down next to you. 
“Thank you for tonight.” He says, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. 
“It was my pleasure.” You say, grinning. “But fuck, if I’m not exhausted.” 
He laughs. “It’s because of Angel, isn’t it? Can’t get his own beer for anything in this world.” 
“Definitely Angel.” You joke back, before leaning down to take off your wedges. Your ankles were definitely going to be sore tomorrow. 
EZ’s quiet for several moments and when you look up, he’s staring at you. A very different look on his face and it makes your stomach drop. 
“What?” You ask, your hand immediately swiping against your cheeks to check for anything. 
You watch as he swallows, and then opens his mouth, “Marry me.” 
You blink, mouth agape, and shake your head. “EZ, wha-”
And before you can ask him anything, he’s getting on a knee in front of you. 
“I don’t have a ring because I just looked at you just now and realized that I won’t ever be happy if I don’t have this forever. So, we can pick out a ring tomorrow, but will you marry me?” He says, taking one of your hands into his own. 
You’re crying. Of course you’re crying. “Of course! Yes!” You say, squealing as he lifts you off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. He buries his head in your neck, his strong arms holding you tightly against him. 
“I love you so much, Ezekiel.” You whisper, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips through your tears. 
“I love you, Y/N. I can’t wait to be your husband.” He whispers back. 
183 notes · View notes
Text
The callout post made by l3naruiiz is so unfounded and I have A LOT to say about it. I want to start off by saying I don't know either of the people involved in that trade but they start by calling mun3caventuras a liar for faking an illness. This rubbed me the wrong way because l3naruiiz has a highlight in their story called "Proof" where they posted a few screenshots of their conversations which are in Spanish.
That is unfair in itself since most people in the hobby don't speak Spanish and will take her word for it… But I speak Spanish and let me tell you mun3caventuras never claimed to have cancer, they said they MIGHT have it and their doctors where trying to rule out the possibility. Which is an actual long and expensive process. Also they never provide actual proof of them lying about it, for all we know mun3caventuras was telling the truth. It is disgusting to lie about having an illness but it's just as bad claiming some is lying about their health. Next she claims they sent a recast. Again with no proof of it other than a sponge recasters (and most dealers and stores in China) usually send and the doll not having a CoA. We're talking about a V0lks doll, older dolls from this company didn't even come with a CoA and back then the papers they had weren't as important as they are now.
Let's go back to the proof highlight, mun3caventuras posted their doll for sale and said in the description they had no papers but had proof of authenticity. Why didn't you ask for it before trading your doll? Now, about the faceup which btw we could argue the new faceup looks better or just as good as the last one she had. One might say they're not planning to change the faceup of the doll they're buying but once they complete the transaction they can do with their doll as they please.
So, they did send them their doll back in a really bad shape, but L3naruiiz conveniently left out the part that they didn't send them the same doll back. They sent them the same body with a new head because they made a hybrid and sold the head mun3caventuras sent them. If the recast claims are true, l3naruiiz too sold a V0lks head to someone else and passed it as legit. (This is all in the conversation in Spanish.) In my honest opinion if I trade a doll and they don't want it and ask to send it back but send a different doll I would be pissed. I wouldn't be surprised if mun3caventuras sent the doll in that state on purpose after all of this. It's also interesting how l3naruiiz limited the comments on their post, huh? Sorry for the super long confession.
~Anonymous
14 notes · View notes
Note
"Don't do that" + Hyde and Donna friendship! Also you don't have to follow this prompt but I imagined Donna catching Hyde before he cheats on Jackie with the nurse and he tells her and she stops him :)
Donna was walking back to her house when she saw an enraged Hyde leaving through the backdoor. He looked more pissed than she'd ever seen him.
"Hyde, what's with the long face?" Donna asked when they crossed paths.
"Why don't you ask Kelso and Jackie?" He spat at her, walking away from the house. Donna followed him "I was so fucking stupid, should've known better than to date her, she makes guys stupid"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Jackie and I are done," Hyde said "That's what I'm talking about. Now stop following me because I need to go do something"
Donna ran and placed herself in front of Hyde, preventing him to walk any further.
"Don't do that" Donna said firmly, making Hyde finally look her in the eye "If you do what you're thinking about, then you and Jackie will be over for good"
"She's been messing around with Kelso behind my back this whole time, we're already over for good" Hyde argued. He turned around to leave, but Donna forcefully grabbed his arm.
"Think about it, Hyde," Donna said "For once, put your stupid rage aside and actually think about how stupid this whole thing is. Kelso has been trying to break you and Jackie up since he found out about you guys. Jackie could've gotten back together with him multiple times, but she didn't because she loves you. Not him, you."
"Yeah, she really looked like she loved me when she was stroking Kelso's hair on your couch," Hyde said bitterly "Let me go, Donna"
"Not if you're going to do something you'll regret later!"
"Let me go, Donna!"
"No!" She said as she dragged him through her backyard "You're not going to do anything, not until you actually know what happened, you dillhole!"
"Donna, I'm gonna hurt you"
"Shut up, Hyde," Donna said, opening the backdoor again and pushing him inside the kitchen "Come here"
"Donna, man, don't make me..."
"Look, Hyde, Jackie would never sleep with Kelso again. She told me that many times" Donna said "You have no idea how many nights I've spent awake because Jackie can't shut up about how much she loves you and how she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. If she's cheating on you with Kelso of all people, then Red is running for the Nobel Peace Prize"
"I've seen them, Donna. Now just let me go, man, please"
"No. You're going to see them again, and this time, you're sticking around to see what's really happening. Jackie makes you happy, Hyde, and I'm not going to let you ruin that. Now shut up or they'll see us" She whispered and grabbed his arm again, gently opening the door to the living room.
They could now clearly see the sight of Kelso and Jackie, and it made Hyde sick. He tensed up, but he knew any attempt to leave with Donna by his side would be futile.
Kelso still had his head on Jackie's shoulders, but his hands were resting on his lap. Jackie was gently stroking his hair and mumbling some words to him, but Hyde didn't bother listening.
Then he saw Kelso moving his hand to rest on top of Jackie's breast, and the rage took over him again. He was about to turn around to leave, but Donna blocked the exit and forced him to watch everything.
"Michael, what the hell are you doing?!" Jackie slapped Kelso's hand, and pushed him away as far from her as she could "I'm with Steven, don't touch me!"
"I need to see if I'm gay or not!" Kelso argued, and Jackie threw a pillow at him
"Michael, you're not gay just because Fez had a weird sex dream about you!" Jackie yelled, throwing another pillow at him
"Don't yell at me, I'm sad!"
"Fez had what?!" Donna asked, not being able to contain her laughter and announcing her and Hyde's presence to the group.
"Nothing!"
"Oh, shut up, Michael! Fez had a dream where Michael was a nurse, and he was giving him a sponge bath, and they had sex!" Jackie said, still looking pissed at Kelso "We had that talk before, Michael! Don't ever touch me like that again!"
"I just figured, you were already comforting me, so..." Kelso tried to explain, but Jackie slapped the back of his head.
"So you assumed I would sleep with you even though I'm dating your best friend? God, you're a moron!" Jackie yelled and went to stand by Donna and Hyde "This is what I get for being nice! I should've listened to my mom! Michael, the next time you're sad, you're crying on Eric's bony shoulders!"
"But... It'll bruise my beautiful face, Jackie!" Kelso argued, and Hyde finally woke up from his stupor and took a threatening step in Kelso's direction.
"Oh, I would run if I were you, Kelso" Donna said with an amused smile, and Kelso dry-swallowed.
"You're dead!" Hyde said, and Kelso opened the front door and started running. He was about to run after Kelso, when he felt a gentle touch on his arm.
"Steven, you can kill Michael later," Jackie said, wrapping her arm around his waist and resting her head on his chest "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Michael is a pig and I'll never be alone with him again"
Hyde glanced at Donna before looking down at Jackie, his shoulders slumping at the weight of his guilt.
He jumped to conclusions, Jackie wasn't cheating on him with Kelso, and if Donna hadn't shown up...
Hyde doesn't want to think about what would happen.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo.
"I love you" He whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple afterward. He looked at her shocked face and couldn't help but smile a little "Don't say anything right now, wait till I get rid of Donna"
She nodded, and he planted a chaste kiss to her lips before letting her go and walking towards Donna, who was still standing near the kitchen door and had a shit-eating grin on her face.
"Shut up," Hyde said with a small smile "Thanks, man. Really"
"That's what friends are for," Donna said, "You need to think more and do less, Hyde. You could've really screwed up the best thing that ever happened to you"
He sighed "I know that, man. Thank you"
"I'm going," She said, looking at him, the grin still plastered on her face "I need to tell Eric about Fez's dream. You two -- don't defile my couch, my dad and I watch movies there"
"Sure thing, Pinciotti. Thanks again, man"
Donna just waved at them before leaving Jackie and Hyde alone in the room. Jackie was sitting on the couch, with a stunned look on her face, and Hyde sat next to her.
"You really meant it?" She asked, her eyes glassy
He smiled at her and cradled her face in his hands "Yeah man, I meant it. I love you"
"I love you too" She smiled back, and glued her lips on his.
Hyde buried his fingers on her hair and let out a happy sigh. He and Jackie are going to need to talk later -- about his trust issues, about Kelso, about everything. But right now... Right now Hyde could only thank the universe for making Donna show up when she did.
*
Well, that got very sappy in the end. I can't help myself.
That was a GREAT prompt by the way, so thank you for suggesting it! I hope you liked the ficlet!
58 notes · View notes
diavolosthots · 3 years
Text
DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 12
READ CHAPTER 11 HERE
Warnings: mentions of rape, non-con, kidnapping, usage of sleeping drugs
Pairing(s): Diavolo x F!reader, the brothers, lucifer x F!reader
Authors note: im fucking pissed at Solmare and Diavolo right now so I decided to continue this and give Diavolo some much deserved pain.
Tumblr media
You hated him. You hated him so much. He was so confusing, too, which makes you feel even worse. One moment he’s ordering you around like the little puppy that he believes you are, and the next you’re in his arms and he’s comforting you. It messed with your emotions and your head and you didn’t know if you wanted more of it or to lock yourself away. At this rate, even Cerberus’ slobber was better than being tossed around like that, but you wouldn’t dare say that out loud because Diavolo would actually take you back down there if he was given the chance, no remorse or guilt evident. After last night, part of you even believed that he only did this for show, to gain your trust and then beat it back down. You hated how he felt, but you hated even more how much your body seemed to enjoy it. He wasn’t ugly to look at either, so seeing him on top of you, you couldn’t even be disgusted by it, not fully at least. “I’ll never love you!” You winced at the memory, feeling the sting from the slap he delivered right after your words. If only someone actually cared about that. 
Right now, your bed was empty and it reminded you on the first night you slept together with him, where he forced himself on you, and then left you alone in an unfamiliar room the next morning. You didn’t need to get up to know that the room door was locked, much like it had been the first night, but you did need to get up to try and wash yourself. You had long given up on the crying; tears only spurted him on and gave him a reason to further break you. Instead, you started to feel numb. The angels never came to save you, no matter how much you prayed to them, and you started to believe that God couldn’t give two flying feathers about you. Sadly, you couldn’t turn to the Devil in his absence. You didn’t even know where Diavolo was right now; at least in the beginning, he’d be so kind to tell you he was in his office or off with Barbatos somewhere, you know, anything. Should you know where he was right now? A good wife knows where her husband is, no? But then again, this wasn’t a normal marriage. 
You allowed yourself to fill up the bathtub with hot water and plenty of bubbles. Your legs ached, your abdomen ached, and you could feel his leftover cum drip from between your legs. Part of you didn’t care anymore, but another part was, thankfully, still disgusted by the action and rational enough to get in the tub to try and wash it off. If there was one thing that you thoroughly enjoyed about this castle, as silly as it sounds, it was this giant gold bathtub, that seemingly swallowed you up and let you hide beneath the bubbles. The hot water brought relaxation to your sore muscles and the bubbles just made you happy; just a little bit of happiness in a world God has long forgotten. “I’m sorry…” You apologized to yourself, washing over your body as gently as you could while still getting rid of anything he left on you the night before. You owed your body, your soul, yourself that apology… it helped you think straight. You also spoke it to Lucifer, silently, for lying to him, for leaving him, for not giving him the chance to help you, although you doubted that he truly could. 
“I accept your apology.” Your body immediately stiffened at his voice, but you refused to turn your head, keeping your hands moving by continuing to wash yourself. Diavolo, for whatever reason, was so certain that you’re just not broken enough yet to fully submit yourself to a husband, specifically him. That’s what last night was about, a struggle to prove his reign over you and sadly, momentarily, he had won. You didn’t speak back to him, keeping your eyes on your hands’ movements in hopes that he would soon get bored and leave again. What is it with him always barging in when you’re in the bathroom? “No Good Morning? Where are your manners?” He chuckled, although you knew better than to believe it, knowing that he was annoyed already. He positioned himself behind you, pinking up the sponge to clean over your back, but honestly you were just thankful that he didn’t try to join you in the bath. There was space between you right now, and although it was just the rim of the bathtub, and honestly not that much, it brought you some sort of comfort. 
“I won’t be here today,” then why is he? “I’m sure you enjoy that,” you do, “but Michael scheduled a meeting with me.” Michael? “You know of Michael, do you not?” Yes, but you don’t like the way this is going, “I’d love to have you there. As the Queen, My Queen, you should be there, but he insisted on it just being us,” what a bummer, “that’s why I’m sad to announce that you’ll be here for your day. I made sure to have Barbatos ready to comply with your every request and need, “ how wonderful. The shady butler. “I hope that’s to your liking.” You felt him move again, presumably standing back up, but his eyes were still on you, “can I at least have a good morning?” It almost seemed normal right there. Just a regular couple trying to make up after a regular couple’s fight, but this isn’t a regular couple thing, so you shook your head. Diavolo grew angry, but he opted for a sigh instead, reminding you, “this could all be easy on you, yet you choose to make it more difficult. I can’t keep giving you a warning and let you get away. Think about your actions before you force me to do something both of us will regret.” You hated the thought of something even worse happening, but you still didn’t dare look at him, only slightly turning your head instead. 
“Good morning… have a good day….” The words sounded forced, even a bit scared, but Diavolo smiled at them, ever so softly, and then he moved back closer again, turning your head a bit with his hand, forcing you to look up at him, “was that so hard?” Yes. He leaned in to kiss your head softly, not your lips, just a loving kiss to the forehead, that once again, almost felt too normal, too nice. “Have a good day as well.” He didn’t push it. He didn’t force anything else. He left it at that and then he left completely, leaving you alone in the bathtub, in the bathroom, in the castle, with only yourself as a companion. “Michael, huh…? Wonder if he ever heard my prayers…”
----------------------------
Lucifer waited. He waited a long time, asking Beel to go in first. Honestly the whole plan was absurd and he doubted he could pull it off on many occasions. Barbatos was everywhere and even with the spell he placed on himself and Leviathan, everyone else was in danger. Leviathan managed to spy out the castle by hacking into the cameras and they were incredibly lucky when they saw Diavolo leave, albeit by himself which meant that Barbatos was still inside and presumably watching your every move. That’s why they send Beel. He could easily disguise himself as wanting some of Barbatos’ food and Lucifer watched as the younger managed to slip inside the castle’s walls. Of course, none of the others were actually at the castle yet; that’d be too risky. They send Beel ahead while they watch from the safety of Levi’s computers, making sure everything goes according to plan. 
“What are you doing here, Beelzebub? Tea?” Beel nodded happily, holding his hand to grab the cup from Barbatos, quickly thinking of a fool proof reason. “I know you’re busy… but at the buffet, you know, during the wedding, you had these crab cakes…” “You want me to make you some, don’t you?” Beel blushed softly, nodding while taking a sip of his tea, “yes please… I can’t stop thinking about them. Everything you make is delicious, but I think that was my favorite.” Barbatos actually found himself smiling. Beel was always one of his favorite test tasters because although the demon liked everything, he still gave really good feedback. “Very well. I just delivered breakfast to the Queen so I have some free time before lunch. Perhaps she will enjoy them as well if we make her some.” Beel’s eyes seemed to sparkle and he quickly nodded, “you’ll let me help? May I come with you when you deliver them?” Barbatos eyes Beelzebub for a while, thinking about his request before walking over to the fridge to get the ingredients out, “yes and no. You can help me, but My Lord is currently not at home and thus I can’t allow anyone else near the Queen. You understand, don’t you?” It was a bummer, to say the least, but Beel knew that he actually couldn’t see you anyway. He’s supposed to keep Barbatos distracted. “You may write a note, though.” and that was all he needed. 
While Beel did his best to keep Barbatos occupied, Lucifer and the rest were on the move. Even Satan helped out willingly and Belphegor finally arose from his slumber to help Lucifer out with this. They all missed you more than you could imagine so teaming up for them was a no brainer. You meant a lot to all of them. “Oh this is so exciting!!” “You think we can sell her ring?” “We need to watch out for the guards outside.” Only the last one really mattered to Lucifer. Perks of having wings is that you could fly. Downside was that the brothers without wings had to be carried. He currently carried Leviathan and only because the third born had access to the cameras on his DDD. “I know a blindspot to the castle. None of the guards go there. The old King, Diavolo’s father, used to take his torture games back there and none of the guards particularly like it.” Levi nodded, turning his head to look up at Lucifer, “good good...you think this is a good idea?” Lucifer looked down at Levi, his face unreadable, “no, but I have to get her out of there.” 
It was hard to fly as a group and not get spotted but somehow, by some form of miracle, they managed to land on the castle’s roof, crawling around to find the balcony connected to Diavolo’s chambers, where he knew you’d be at. For once in a few millennia, he silently prayed that Beel is keeping Barbatos busy so they have enough time, “you’re good to go in…” Levi looked at him worriedly, and even Satan shot him a quick glance that held something more than disapproval. All of them were worried, not just for you, but also for Lucifer. One wrong move and he could get caught, and sadly, no matter how close Diavolo likes to pretend they are, this wouldn’t end well for him. “Thank you… I trust you have my back.” Lucifer knew he could rely on them. Whenever it came down to it, his brothers were loyal and protective, just as he is to them. With that in mind, and fear in his heart, he dared open the balcony windows. 
Immediately, a strong smell of your scent along with Diavolo’s entered his nostrils and he both loved and hated it. He missed you, a lot more than he allows himself to admit. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cloth, laced with drugs to keep you quiet and unconscious while he and his brothers do the rest. He hated doing this, truly, but he can’t risk doing anything wrong, not with this, not when it comes to you. Sounds are coming from the bathroom and for a moment he feared Diavolo was still around, but it was just your sweet voice he heard. His heart ached; he hated this. “I’m sorry, Darling…. Please forgive me…” he’s whispering to himself, finding the courage to make his way to the door and slowly open it. 
Steam from the bathroom along with your cent and the sight of your naked body met him and he’s quick to hold the cloth up to your nose. You struggled, obviously scared, but he wraps his arms tightly around you, “ssh… it’s okay.” “Lu!.....” the drugs worked quick and he silently thanked them for it, wrapping his coat around your naked body before draining the tub and turning off the light, trying to make it seem like you either did something dumb or left willingly. Lucifer couldn’t look at you too long, the pain bearing too much. So, he picked you up swiftly and flew out, motioning for the rest of his brothers to follow quickly after, leaving the balcony doors open. 
Lucifer knew that what he had just done was far beyond what Belphegor did, far beyond treason against the now King. This was life threatening, this was unimaginable suffering, but most of all,
this was a call for war.
216 notes · View notes
floatingpetals · 3 years
Text
Call of the Mountains || Ch. 9
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)
Warnings: nothin really
Word Count: 1500+
Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)
A/N: Hey all! So it’s been a while huh? I can’t make any promises that this will be frequent but I wrote a little bit and wanted to post it! I hope you all enjoy and thank you for being so patient with me! I’m hoping I can get back to the swing of things. I also didn’t really edit so I’m sorry if there’s errors 😅 Enjoyyy!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Series Masterlist
Y/N woke to the sound of power turning back on in the house. It was jarring at first, the sound of the air conditioner turning on and several loud beeps sounded around the house. She could hear someone in the hall muttering an oath over a practically loud incessant beeping before it was finally silenced. Blearily she glanced out the window, the sun had just peaked over the mountains casting bright rays through the large open window.
Letting out a sigh, she figured it was best to get out of bed. No point in hiding in the room, especially not with how her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. Y/N glanced at her dirty clothes and wondered if they had a washing machine she could use now that the power was back on. Snagging them in her uninjured hand, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her business before creeping into the living room.
The sound of the television filtered down the hall as she inched around the corner, she spotted Bucky standing in front of the television with his arms crossed and back tense. It took her a quick glance at the headline to understand his frustration. The rain from last night created floods and knocked down trees on most major roads in the area, specifically around the reserve. Which meant she was stuck.
“Oh well that’s a great thing to wake up and see,” She mumbled and walked up beside him. She bit her lip to stifle a giggle when she saw him flinch and his head swivel around towards her.
Bucky nearly flew out of his skin when she materialized beside him. He had to take a deep breath, to calm the start to his heart as well as the frustration in himself how quickly he forgot she was capable of sneaking upon him. That was definitely not a common occurrence for him. He should have scented her at the very least. Maybe it because she’s wearing my clothes, he tried to reason.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her giggle finally won. Bucky grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin growing on his face. “So we’re blocked in huh?”
“Looks like it.” He nodded. “Steve’s gone out to see if we can still get out to the pa-cabins. My phone hasn’t blown up yet, so either it means we’re in the clear or he’s in the middle of cleaning up the roads and hasn’t had a chance to call and bitch yet.”
“Let’s hope it’s not too bad if there are any downed trees.” She mumbled and watched the forecast. She winced. Now it was supposed to rain every day for the next week. Just great. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried my luck. First, the questionable rain forecast, then I fall in a river, fracture my wrist, and now I’m literally flooded in.”
“At least you’re not stuck in your tent!” Bucky grinned trying to remain optimistic. “Speaking of which, Natasha said she’d call the rangers station for you and see what she could have them do about your stuff. Better her let them know you’re safe than them waste manpower trying to find you.”
“Oh,” Y/N blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s sweet of her.”
“If you have anything you can think you’d need, let me know and I can see if Natasha can’t get them for you.” He didn’t offer how she could get them or how she knew which campsite was hers, but Y/N also didn’t think to ask. Probably got the info from the ranger station, Y/N reasoned.
“I guess my phone, so I can tell my parents I’m alright and let my job know I might not make it back when I agreed to be back.” She said. “And maybe some of my clothes. Speaking of which, do you have a washer I could borrow?”
Bucky blinked and finally looked down at the bundle of clothes in her hand.
“Oh! Yeah of course,” He motioned her to follow through the kitchen and to what looked like a mudroom converted to a laundry room. “If you ever need to use it, feel free. Detergent is in the box and the softener is that white container. While you do that, do you want anything to eat? I should have asked you that first.”
“Oh,” she looked up from the brand-new fancy washing machine and over to where Bucky hovered in the doorway. “I’m okay with whatever you have available. Can I make a special request for some coffee with cream and sugar?”
“You sure can.” Bucky beamed with a wink, leaving her to it in the room with a noticeable bounce in his step. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen, finding it incredibly adorable how enthusiastic he appeared to be cooking her something. She shook her head with a giggle and turned back to the machine.
After a few minutes of fumbling with the fancy machine that had way too many settings, Y/N went back to the kitchen where Bucky was plating her food. He flashed a smile over his shoulder and motioned for her to sit at the table. A steaming cup of fresh coffee sat at the table, fork, and knife waiting as well.
 “Go ahead and take a seat. I didn’t know how much sugar you wanted, so it’s in the bowl next to the salt and pepper.”
“Thank you.” Y/N hummed eagerly and sank into the seat. She had just finished putting in her sugar and took a sip when Bucky set the plate of food in front of her. Piled high with eggs, bacon, and hash browns, the smell hit her nose, and instantly her mouth started to water. Completely uncaring what he thought about her table manners, she dug in.
Amused, Bucky slid into the seat across from her with his own plate and cup of coffee. He watched her for a moment, a grin on his face before he too dug in. Mentally, he was going over the list of things that needed to be done. He had a pack to keep safe, first and foremost. While Steve might be handling the cleanup, Bucky was usually in charge of making sure everyone was accounted for and they had everything they’d needed.
True they were an efficient pack that didn’t need help from the outside, but it didn’t mean they were completely prepared for natural disasters. Cabins would need to be inspected, generators most likely needed to be fixed, food needed to be replaced, the roads and paths they usually took would need to be checked so there wasn’t something that could cause problems down the line. There was also the fact he had yet to hear from Wanda or Pietro.
The twins were supposed to be patrolling last night and would usually check-in before the sun rose when they returned. Neither had contacted Bucky or Steve, and Bucky was growing concerned. They were quite capable of taking care of themselves, but this was not normal for the two.
He was so busy worrying and planning he didn’t notice Y/N had stood to move beside him until her soft scent drifted to his nose. He blinked and tilted his head back, startled for the second time that morning. He had to swallow his tongue to keep the purr his beast made down. Oblivious to the effect she had on him, Y/N smiled softly and motioned to his empty plate.
“You finished?”
Bucky’s cleared his throat and nodded dumbly. Y/N took their plates and went to the sink. He watched her go to the stove to grab the skillet and heading back to the sink before turning the tap on. The sound of water and clinking plates snapped Bucky out of his stupor.
“Oh, you don’t have to clean those!” He jumped up and began to cross the kitchen to her side. She shot him a look that stopped him short and reached for the sponge.
“You made me breakfast, the least I can do is while the plates down before putting them in your dishwasher.” She replied smoothly. Bucky opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off again. “Nope, it’s how we do it my house. You cook, I clean.”
Bucky chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, more than aware he lost this argument. He didn’t get a chance to argue anyways, he could hear his phone going off in the living room where he left it.
“Alright, alright. You win. Just keep your cast dry.” He shot over his shoulder.
“Aye aye, captain!” Y/N shouted back, giggling at the amused snort that she received in answer.
Smiling from ear to ear, Bucky answered the call from Natasha in a rather happy mood. But the tone that greeted him cut his happiness off short.
“Barnes, you need to get down here. Steve’s pissed. Bring Y/N too. She needs to see this.”
The phone clicked before he could ask what the hell was going on, not at all a normal Natasha thing to do. A sinking feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder where Y/N stood at the sink, loading his dishwasher humming a happy tune, and wondered what the hell happened last night they didn’t know about.
178 notes · View notes
eve-and-briar · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
part 1
The floral tiles blurred as Bella zoned out while washing up, gliding the sponge over the clear glass one, three, ten times. Her thoughts scrambled over each other, vying desperately for her attention. She set the cup down on the counter, and then absentmindedly picked it back up again, continuing the mindless movement of the sponge across the already spotless glass.
“Bella. Bella. You good mate?” The voice broke through the clouds in her mind, and Bella started, the cup almost slipping between her fingers.
She shook her head to clear the last of the thoughts that clung to her like cobwebs, and then she turned toward Bee, who looked at her with a slightly wary expression. “What?”
“Hun, you’ve been staring into space for like, five minutes. You’re normally always on top of it,” said Apollo, his voice coming from the other side of the cafe where he was wiping tables out of sight.
Bella’s cheeks heated, and she said, “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“It’s no worries,” Bee said, their voice reassuring as they plucked the glass from her sudsy hands and dried it off. “Have you got something on your mind?”
Bella grabbed another cup to do something with her hands, knocking a few others down in the dirty haphazard stack. The sponge squeaked in protest as she dragged it along the inside of the glass, but she barely registered the sound. Every other thought seemed to be of her - when she leaned against the counter, matching Bella quip for quip, word for word. The way her eyes flashed with something as she had said the modified drink was “good enough.” The self-assured, pure arrogance that radiated off her every movement. It was infuriating.
Only Bee’s athleticism saved the cup from being smashed to pieces as Bella pelted it vaguely in their direction for drying purposes.
“Bella?” Bee said, slowly drying the glass.
“What?” snapped Bella, glaring at the new dirty glass in her hand.
Apollo laughed, his footsteps light as he moved to the next table, now in the line of sight of the two doing the dishes. “There’s definitely something bothering you. Spill,” he said, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of gossip.
She groaned, wondering how to avoid the question before realizing that her co-workers were relentless. “It’s nothing,” Bella said sharply. “Just… the customer from earlier.” She shrugged, somehow scrubbing the dirty glass harder.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that,” said Bee drily.
“I know exactly who she means,” Apollo said, smirking. “The one she was flirting with.”
“Far out, really?” Bee said, gently placing the towel over Bella’s frantic hands, stilling them.
“No, it- yes. Wait, what?” Bella sputtered, pulling her hands free from the towel. She continued washing at a frenzied pace, miraculously never dropping anything despite her clumsy movements. “We weren’t flirting,” she insisted. “She just really… pissed me off.”
“Right,” said Apollo, his voice teasing. “Definitely not flirting. Definitely not obvious enough for anyone to see. Even me, who normally doesn’t understand flirting enough to pick up on it.”
Bee swung an arm around Bella’s shoulders. “It’s okay. We all have to grow up someday,” they said, mock seriousness in their voice.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, glad to be back in slightly more familiar territory. Bella had known steadfast, sporty Bee and dramatic, confident Apollo for months, while she’d only met Dawn today. “Says who?” she asked, slipping into easy banter with her friends. “What would you define as grown-up?”
“You’re changing the subject. And deflecting,” Apollo added. “Normally you have a better defense.” He winked at Bee, a smirk on his face. “Maybe you’re coming down with something.”
Relinquishing their hold on Bella, they strode over to meet Apollo at the entrance to the back. “Oh, I know. The L word,” Bee said.
Apollo stuck his finger up in the air in exaggerated revelation. “Leprosy,” he announced, and Bella sighed at the elaborate farce the two were doing.
“No, no,” said Bee, biting their lip to hold back giggles. “Four letters.”
Apollo grinned as he sauntered over to Bella, poking his finger in her chest. “Lice,” he said, his voice triumphant.
“Oh my god, did you just quote Ice Age?” Bella said, swatting Apollo’s hand away. “Oh my god, did I just recognize an Ice Age quote? I- Never mind.” She crossed her arms. “You both know I’m not interested in romance. Nothing significant has ever come from something like this before.”
Much to her frustration, Apollo laughed and herded her back towards the sink where she hurriedly washed the last glass. “Yeah, we know. We’re just teasing. You should hear Bee and Parker,” he said. “They both pick on me about that all the time. ‘Oh, that was such a good kiss I’d almost think you were in love with me,’ or ‘Wow, Apollo, from the way you ogled that boy I’d almost be worried you caught feelings for him.’”
Bee snickered, obviously very proud of themself.
“It was the costume!” he protested. “I’ve been helping out the costume department and gained an appreciation for good costumes. The stitching on his outfit was admirable, that’s all,” said Apollo heatedly. “But, Bella, we’re just having a bit of fun. We don’t mean it. We respect your identity, don’t worry.” He sighed, gazing off into the distance as if remembering something dramatic from long ago. “You do not want to hear about the crisis I had in high school.”
“Again,” added Bella, raising an eyebrow.
Apollo stuck his tongue out at her.
“You’re sure you don’t want help with this?” Bee asked, surprisingly sincere. “I’ve seen you around Karens and customers like that before, and you did not act like that.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Bella said adamantly. “Dawn was just another annoying customer.”
Apollo bumped Bella, making her drop the towel she was drying her hands with onto the floor. “Right. That’s why you remember her name.”
“Oh, you shut up,” Bella lightheartedly shot back, throwing the towel back into place. “You know I have a good memory.”
“Uh-huh,” Apollo said, but he didn’t sound convinced, which she ignored.
“Let’s just close up shop,” said Bella briskly. “With any luck, I annoyed her enough to not come back.”
Of course, that was not the case.
~~~
I hope you all enjoyed part 2!! It was a blast to write with the added bonus of all three characters using different pronouns. As this was Bella's pov, @apocalypsewriters wrote this, and @pagesofcursive betaed ofc. Apollo and Bee will be recurring characters, so if you enjoyed them, they'll both be back! Especially since they come from another one of our shared works. and Apollo was the one to take the register in part 1.
- mod eve
Hopefully you're as excited as I am for what's to come! Maybe some incorrect quotes, ask games, who knows! Until then, happy reading!!
taglist (reach out if you want to be added): @arbys-haunted-turnover, @writing-is-a-martial-art, @cloverfieldswriting <3
12 notes · View notes
Text
You’re Not So Bad (Isaac Foster x Reader)
A/N: I finished Angels of Death a few weeks back, and it was so good! I just had to write a short story about it. I’m not the best writer, but hopefully my first writing of this anime is somewhat close to Zack’s character.  
Warnings: Cussing, Blood Mention (it’s Zack)
Tumblr media
You never expected to meet someone like Zack until he arrived on Floor B2. You assisted Reverend Gray, acting as another guardian of B2 after he took you in when he found you as a homeless teen, sleeping on the outside steps of his building. He wasn’t the best father figure you could’ve had, but he still treated you better than the streets did. When hearing the elevator on your floor ding, you wanted to see who was there, but Reverend Gray stopped you, warning you to be careful of the people you may meet. When you asked why, he described the people that held the names Isaac Foster and Rachel Gardner. In all honesty, you didn’t think they were actually as bad as he made them sound, considering that he over exaggerates his descriptions of people to you to keep you safe. Also considering the other psychotic people he had as guardians on the other floors, you could trust your own gut when you met the duo. You stayed hidden in the background while you watched Reverend Gray journey with Rachel to Dr. Danny’s floor. Watching them leave from the end of the hall, you saw a man in a dark brown hoodie and a scythe laying on the ground. That must be Isaac Foster. You could tell that he was bleeding out badly, a pang of guilt and empathy coursing through you. You were hesitant to approach him, remembering that the Reverend said he was dangerous to meddle with and there was a high chance he could react violently to you if you dared to try and talk. But seeing him looking on the verge of death, you couldn’t help but walk slowly toward him. It may seem unreasonable to walk right into danger, but you knew you could take care of yourself. Reverend Gray provided you with a weapon of your own, a basket-hilted sword. He helped you to perfect every swing and stab. Not only that, but you weren’t too bad at fighting hand-to-hand either. Luckily, Isaac Foster appears to be too injured to try and fight back anyway. I honestly don’t think my sword would be able to block his scythe well, I hope he doesn’t use it on me, you thought. As you got closer and closer to the strange man, he fidgeted a bit. You paused your movements, clutching the handle of your sword in its scabbard. He weakly turned his head towards you, his eyes opening slowly. 
“Who the fuck are you? You gonna try and kill me?” he questioned, a sharp tone in his voice. You noticed he made no effort to reach for his scythe, so you let go of your sword’s handle. 
“No.....I wouldn’t try to kill someone if they’re already dying,” you responded. He let out a dry laugh. 
“I hate to break it to ya sweetheart, but I’m not dying any time soon. Monsters are hard to kill. Besides, good ‘ol Rachel’s gonna fix me up. But enough of the chitter chatter, you didn’t answer my first question. Who the fuck ARE you? I thought there’s only one guardian on each floor, unless Reverend Shithead cheated,” he spat. You let out a small chuckle, finding his way of talking a throwback to when you were a teen. Although, he seemed to be around the same age as you, twenty or twenty-two years old. His bandaged face looked confused to your lighthearted reaction. He scowled, “Hey, what’s all that laughing for? I didn’t even say anything funny.” 
“Oh nothing, just thinking of my teenage days. But to answer your first question, I am another guardian of this floor. My job is assisting Reverend Gray on this floor, though I’m not really allowed to interact with the people who come here. But I uh, couldn’t help feeling a bit bad for you, seeing you bleed out like that,” you finally confessed. Letting out another dry laugh, he looked at you with a smirk. 
“Feeling bad for me, huh? Not the best decision. Don’t know if you can already tell, but I’m a cold-blooded serial killer. If I wasn’t feeling shitty at the moment, I’d cut that pretty head of yours off. Seeing you this calm around someone like me really pisses me off,” he said. You only let out another small chuckle, which irked him even more. 
“I’m sure you would, Isaac Foster. Although, I don’t think a fight between the two of us would end so quick. My weapon may be smaller than yours, but I can hold my own very well. If I could survive majority of my childhood and teen years being alone in the streets, I think I could survive you,” you calmly said. His temper apparently sky-rocketed because the next moment, he was yelling. 
“The name’s Zack, you bitch! Don’t go being so confident in yourself, it’s sickening to watch. I bet my ass could ruin all that confidence with just one land of my scythe. I’ll have you begging for your life, just you wait ‘til I’m in a better state to kill ya. Ugh, now I have two bitches to kill!” he groaned, then coughed loudly, more blood oozing out of his wound. You felt guilty again, wanting to at least stop the bleeding for a little while. 
“I carry some bandages and patches with me in case there’s a time I ever need to fix myself. If you need some I can-”
“Just leave it alone, will ya? I already got Rachel getting shit for me back on the other floor, I don’t need your damn help! Why the hell does everyone wanna help me?” 
“M’kay, but you’re bleeding pretty badly, by the time she comes back, you’ll most likely be passed out-”
“I said leave it alone! Stop tryna play nurse, your stuff probably won’t even do shit.” 
“But it’s better to stop the bleeding as soon as-”
“Will you shut up? You’re gonna make me go into shock.”
“I just wanna help-” 
“I said I don’t want any damn help!” 
“Well you won’t be much of a monster by bleeding out all over this damn floor! If you wanna at least live long enough to kill that girl Rachel, you could at least be somewhat decent and let me patch you up before you go all out, getting your own self killed instead! Now shut the fuck up and let me help! Geez! How does that blonde girl deal with you?” you shouted. Your yelling got him to close his mouth and shut up, surprised that he got someone as calm as you to get angry. How can I get her angry, but not scared shitless? It’s like she wasn’t even phased by my damn appearance, he thought. There was a short silence in the hallway, until Zack finally spoke up. “Didn’t know you had all that anger in ya. Heh, to be honest you even got my crazy self startled. I have no clue how Rachel deals with me, but all I know is her messed up head wants me to kill her. So I’ll do it. If I want to keep my promise to her.....I guess you should do what ya want. But don’t be a pervert about it.”
A small smile formed on your face as you took out your supplies in the small medical bag you carried around. 
“How the hell are you smiling after all that? Sheesh, I’m starting to think you’re even weirder than Rachel is,” Zack let out noises of disgust. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his childlike behavior. 
“Tell me something.....,” he began to say, “why haven’t ya mentioned anything about my appearance? I’m literally covered in bandages and burnt underneath. Don’t I freak you out at all? Why aren’t ya scared?” 
“Well, I’ve seen crazier. I also don’t like to make a judgement about someone based on only their appearance. Sure you’re not ordinary looking, but I know there’s more about you than what I see on the outside,” you replied. Everything that you needed to help him was taken out. You didn’t have any type of alcohol or a sewing needle and thread to fully cover what you believed to be a deep gash in his abdomen, but it was all that could be done for now until Rachel got back. You reached over towards his wound, but hesitated. You looked him in the eyes, as if you were silently asking for permission. He nodded slightly, his breathing hitching a bit when he saw the look your eyes held. You looked so genuine, not one hint of fear in you. Was that.....kindness? No, it couldn’t be. Why would anyone show kindness to him? You unzipped his hoodie, a faint blush on your face. Sure he was an asshole, but it still felt.....somewhat intimate? Not in an inappropriate way, just in a trustworthy way. The fact he had so much trust in one stranger to help him like this.....it was odd. You undid the bandages already on him that were worn out. His wound was revealed, and so was his skin. Wow....is all of him burned? You shook your thoughts away. You grabbed a bunch of gauze sponges you had and grouped them together, beginning to apply pressure to his wound. Zack hissed at the pain, saying almost every curse word you think is in the dictionary. You let out a soft “Sorry” as you continued to clean up the big amount of blood on his body. Once you began to bandage him up tightly, Zack started up another conversation. 
“You’re different from the other guardians.....why aren’t ya trying to kill me? Isn’t that what you guardians do?” he asked curiously. You showed him another small smile. That damn smile, why does she smile so easily at me? It’s not like Rachel’s forced ass smile. What’s up with this bitch? Why is her smile so.....familiar? 
“Well, like I said before, I just assist Reverend Gray on this floor. He’s the main guardian. I’m just someone he happened to take in after he found me sleeping on the steps of this building. Heh, teenager me. Homeless after my parents abandoned me as a toddler. I’m not sure what made Reverend Gray want to keep me. Sometimes he acts like a father, but then I remember how self praising he is,” you sighed, “I know the people on the other floors kill so you expect me to be the same, but I don’t want to kill someone if they aren’t totally out of their mind.” 
“So is that why you didn’t try to kill me? Cause ya think I’m not totally out of my mind? Heh, well I’m pretty sure me killing people for fun isn’t sane either. I hate seeing people happy, sooooo I kill ‘em. What’s not psycho about that?” Zack stated. 
“Well for starters, I didn’t try to kill you because you were already injured, so it wouldn’t have been fair. And you can’t be totally out of your mind if you let me help you with your injury.” Zack scowled at your reply, knowing you were right. Even as a serial killer, he had morals. He hated lying, and he himself would never tell a lie. 
“You remind me of him too much,” he grumbled. Your head perked up. 
“Did you say something?”
“I said you talk too much.” 
“No, you definitely said something else.” 
“No I said you talk too much.” 
“Doubt it, tell me what ya really said.” 
“That is what I really said.” 
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Zack.” 
“Ugh, I said you remind me of him too much,” he said softly. 
“Him?” you questioned. Zack sighed. “There was this man I met when I was younger, a blind man. He let me stay at his place for a couple days. Even after I told him I killed a guy, he still had that dumb smile on his face. He always had that smile on his face around me. It was annoying, him being so calm around someone like me. Pissed me off, but I didn’t kill him. He fed me and everything. I mean he already died cause of something else, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Are ya done with my bandages yet? It feels like it’s been hours!” 
You rolled your eyes at his commentary. “Well, whoever that man is, he had quite the patience with you.” 
“Hey! I was giving you a compliment! Geez, way to be rude!” Zack crossed his arms, turning away from you. You only chuckled once more. You finally finished wrapping enough bandages as you could, making sure it was snug enough. 
“Happy now, angry boy? I’m done. They’ll still get bloody, but at least the bandages are fresh and not worn out,” you said, giving him another smile just to annoy him. 
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I never caught your name. Since I told ya mine, it’s only fair you tell me yours.” 
“It’s (Y/N),” you said. 
“Well (Y/N),” Zack rubbed the back of his head. “You’re not so bad.....maybe I’ll keep ya alive.” 
220 notes · View notes