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#short fic
bunniesanddeer · 1 month
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Touch- Pt 1
Alastor x GN!Reader
Part Two
Plot: Alastor realizes the reader is starting to get comfortable touching the other residents of the hotel, despite their discomfort with touch before. He suddenly realizes that he is not receiving any of these touches, and it annoys him.
Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, short fic.
Word Count: 1,049
Touch Pt. 1
He had never noticed it before, but now that it had been mentioned, he couldn’t stop noticing it. Every time someone leaned too close, or went to bump you, you leaned away, or shrunk in on yourself. It was a visual reaction that lit up his brain; something close to kinship. You were much like him, in the way you cringed at the slightest, unprovoked touch. Unlike himself, however, you never seemed to initiate it, either. 
Alastor could see why someone like you wouldn’t bother. You didn’t have the power to make people back off if you made it seem like you were okay with casual touches. Better to avoid them altogether!
Alastor was confused, however, when you seemed to suddenly grow more… tactile with the others. It had been just before dinner, Alastor had Niffty setting the table, and everyone was slowly gathering near the dining room. 
“Gosh, how do you even do that, Angel?” You exclaimed. Your face was colored in your bafflement and disgust, even as you let a laugh out. “That’s just, overkill!”
“Just say that you’re jealous, toots. We both know ya’ wouldn’t be able ta’ handle that,” Angel said, leaning his large frame down to wiggle his eyebrows in your face. 
You were laughing again. The sound always caught Alastor’s attention. Even down in Hell, you managed to have a very happy sounding laugh. It felt strange and out of place, but not bad, per se. (Alastor did not like to linger on the ‘why's’ of such thoughts. There was no point. The one time he had, it had spiraled out of control. Not again). 
When Alastor turned to look, he always did, not that he would admit it, your hands were on Angel's face, pushing him back with a grin. 
“Keep yourself away from me, you weirdo! You gotta have like a snake jaw to do that. I want nothing to do with it!” Your hands were still on Angel. Why? You didn’t like touch. Why were you doing it now?
That moment plagued him for a few days, especially as he noticed you touching Angel more. Were you and the effeminate fellow an item? He thought for sure that Angel’s tastes swung the other direction. His theory was smashed to smithereens when he saw you and Husker later on.
You were helping Husker clean smashed glass from the ground, listening to the cat-demon talk. It was often Husker listening to others, so the sight cough Alastor’s attention. He lingered off to the side, and watched, as he was wont to do.
Something the demon said made your eyebrows furrow, and sympathy flit across your face. Alastor watched your lips move, as if you were speaking softly. Then your arm was across Husker’s shoulder, a soft squeeze pulling him against you, for only a moment.
The moment was said and done in mere seconds, but it idled in Alastor’s memory. He could not fathom why things had changed. It only got worse as he realized you were doing it with near everyone in the hotel. Charlie got soft shoulder pats, and light hugs. Vaggie received fist-bumps, (what a strange gesture), and some small hugs. Angel got hip checked and often pulled into impromptu wrestling matches, (he could always hear Angel complain about them, but he never bothered to try and stop you. Maybe the spider didn’t hate it?) Sir Pentious, the cowardly snake, was allowed to pick you up and move you sometimes. Niffty got head pats, and she got picked up by you, sometimes. Husker received the least amount of physical contact, but there were moments where the cat’s tail would brush up against you, or you would squeeze his hand.
Over the course of a few weeks, Alastor couldn’t fathom why everyone else in the hotel was receiving these tender touches from you? He couldn’t tell what the change was. You were still your chipper self, and you helped out as normal. Nothing had changed except the way you interacted with the others. And then it hit him. Others. Your interactions with him hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Your smiles were always soft, and you still laughed at his jokes. You still got spooked when he snuck up on you, and you still shied away when his anger made his form change. He couldn’t spot a single difference! It was after a particularly long day of dealing with Vox, that things hit a tipping point.
Alastor had just gotten back to the hotel, having torn apart goons sent to bother him. Vox was always pulling stupid things like that, but it was more annoying when his technique was suddenly being ridiculed on every screen in Hell! He had managed to send a nasty message to Vox at the end of it all, but it remained a dampener on his day. And then he had spotted you, milling about in the lobby.
“Good afternoon!” He had practically yelled, forcing exuberance into his voice. “How are you this fine afternoon, dear?”
You whipped around, a smile already on your face. “Hi, Alastor! I’m doing okay.” Then a wince washed over your expression. “Saw that stuff on TV, earlier. Hope you got back at him, for it.”
Ah, of course you would mention it. Always worried about how others feel. (He would tell himself that it meant nothing. Because it did. Mean nothing, that is). 
“Of course I did, my dear! The belligerent fool will remember today as a failure, for sure!” He had finally made it over towards you, and had moved to pull you against his side, when you ducked under his arms, stepping a few feet back. 
But you just kept talking to him, like you hadn't moved! The static of his power surging made your words blur in his mind. He couldn’t hear a single word as his mind raced. How dare you? Was he not good enough? Why did each of the others get to touch you now, but he was a problem?
It was the frown on your face that pulled him back down. “Are you okay,” you asked, your face full of concern for him. It didn’t help. 
When Alastor had finally waived away your worries, he had shadow-stepped to his room. He needed to think.
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Note
Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?
"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."
The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.
"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."
The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.
"My lord," the guard said.
As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.
"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."
The hero said nothing.
The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.
The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.
The villain froze.
The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.
"Guards!" the villain yelled.
The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.
"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"
"I - my lord?"
"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.
"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"
Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.
The guards fell silent.
"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."
"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"
The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.
"What?" the villain snapped.
"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."
The power struck in an instant.
The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.
"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.
"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."
Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.
The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.
The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.
"Who are you?" the villain demanded.
The hero shrugged.
The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."
"I'm your tailor's assistant."
"...excuse me?"
"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"
The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.
"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."
The hero shrugged again.
The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."
"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."
The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.
"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.
The hero resisted the urge to swallow.
The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.
They looked up at their guards.
"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"
They definitely should have ran faster.
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leahsgf · 2 months
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cuddles
lucy bronze x reader
summary. your girlfriend can’t sleep, and you’re the only fix
warnings. slightly suggestive language. other than that it’s just entirely fluff
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lucy sighed softly as she blinked at the alarm clock on her bedside table, and the realisation that yet another hour had passed without her being able to drift off hit her. glancing down at your sleeping frame, a smile creeped onto her face - as you lay in her arms, pretty much out like a light. you had knocked out practically the second your head had hit your pillow (her) and had stayed that way for the last now three hours.
your cheek was pressed firmly against her chest, your mouth hanging open ever so slightly, allowing soft snores (that she adored, and would never dare tell you about) to slip past every now and again. simply just letting her eyes glance over you, even in complete darkness, made her heart flutter, and the way you were sprawled on top of her, with your arms loosely wrapped around her, only made her smile widen - and caused her to wonder how she ended up with someone as effortlessly beautiful as you were - even when dead asleep, you were breathtaking.
there was no denying that lucy was truly and utterly whipped for you - a fact that everybody around her knew, you included. she would do anything for you, without question.
you began to stir the instant that her fingers subconsciously found your hair, and she panicked internally, not wanting to wake you - pulling you tighter into her embrace and moving her hands to rub soothing circles into the curve of your back, praying that you would settle back down again without fuss.
but to no avail.
“luce? what are you doing up?” you grumbled into her, lifting your head slightly as your girlfriend just shushed you and continued to caress your back in response.
“can’t sleep.” she whispered into your hair, placing a kiss there before you nodded, shifting slightly to press your face into the crook of her neck, and peck softly at the skin that was left uncovered by her hoodie. “what time is it?”
“like two.” she sighed.
“god. how long have you been up?” you asked in between kisses, stroking at her arm mindlessly.
“i never fell asleep - couldn’t switch off. dunno why.” she replied, a slight shrug following her words.
“what? baby why didn’t you wake me up?” you suddenly sat up on her lap, pouting and staring into her sleepless eyes, searching for an explanation.
“you looked so peaceful.” she murmured, cupping your cheeks and pulling you back down to meet your lips. “didn’t want to disturb you sweetheart, especially when there’s no reason to.”
“i’d happily have disturbed sleep anytime for you luce. you know that.” you argued gently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - a small smile crossing your features as you pulled away from her a little.
“i know darling, you’re too good to me, thank you. well, gimme cuddles, maybe it’ll help.”
“you don’t even have to ask, silly. come here.” you chirped, sleep returning to scratch at your voice as you dropped your head back down into its previous position, resting in her neck. “did you try counting sheep?”
“i don’t think that has ever worked for anyone.” she only grumbled in response, her own tiredness more evident than ever.
“you never know until you try.” you shrugged, causing lucy to sigh in response, before wrapping her arms around your back, and letting herself be completely enveloped by you. the silence that settled between the pair of you lasted no more than a few minutes - her frustrated groan that broke it travelling across the room.
“doesn’t work.”
“just clear your mind, yeah? let all your thoughts and everything just float away. it’s just you and me.” you whispered, remaining still and quiet in hopes that it’d eventually take some influence.
“can we sleep naked? maybe that’s what it is. wanna be close to you. wanna feel your skin.”
“if you think that’ll help babe.” you mumbled, sitting up to pull your lucy’s oversized shirt up and over your head, leaving you almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.
you watched her intently, searching for any sign of sleep in her eyes, rolling your own when you instead caught her eyeing you up and down hungrily, smirking up at you.
“absolutely not. don’t even think about it. sex isn’t going to work either. it didn’t last time - just got you all riled up, and then neither of us slept. remember how many laps ale made us do that day?”
“well how exactly can you expect me to not want to when you look like that.”
“lucy.” you warned, raising an eyebrow at her before lifting off her to slip off your panties, and mindlessly throwing them across the room - ruling them a problem for the morning. “are you going to strip too or are you just going to stare at me the entire night? this was your idea, remember?”
“alright, alright, fine.” she paused both her staring and complaints about your lack of use of a nickname to pull her own shirt and underwear off, in a speed that was almost impressive.
“if i can’t stare, neither can you, hypocrite.”
“you suck.” you whined, shifting once more to the same position you’d woken up in, sprawled across her - arms clumsily moving to wrap around her.
“its hot in here.” lucy gulped from below you, her signature smirk, that almost always made you melt, returning to spread across her face.
“it’s the middle of january, it’s freezing. you’re just horny, and we’re going to sleep.”
“ugh.” she groaned, lacking the energy to fully tease you and get what she wanted. her arms pulled you impossibly closer into her, her skin flush against your own. the sheer comfort and warmth that radiated off of her made you beam, as you let sleep begin to creep back up on you.
you laid in a comfortable silence for a good while, almost long enough for you to fully drift off, believing that she had too - before you felt her tracing shapes on the bare skin of your back - and the sound of her humming hit your ears.
“will you hum with me?”
“of course.” you chuckled to yourself silently, melting at how much of a dork lucy truly was, despite the front she put on - and how offended she got when you called her that.
you picked up on her tune with ease, this being a rather common occurrence with the two of you, joining in and humming alongside her, only stopping when you noticed that hers had trailed off, and that her eyes had fluttered shut, at last.
“goodnight my love. i love you so much.” you said, so quietly that it was more mouthed, allowing yourself to easily fall back to sleep.
“love you too.” she mumbled into your hair - words so thick with sleep that they sounded more like random sounds.
-
this was actually inspired by a glee fic i read years ago yet still remember, and the fact that i’m also desperate to fall asleep but can’t !!
i’ve got to be up early in the morning to go to liverpool to watch arsenal play (terrified and praying that we aren’t shit) so i will proof read and upload more works on the journey!
hope you enjoyed this - apologies that it’s not my best!
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squirrel-gay · 4 months
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Enid: Yeah my mum loves the scars
they remind her of me wolfing out, that i'm no longer a disgrace
Wednesday: I like looking at them
they remind me of your love for me
Excuse me, but consider this: Enid doesn't like her scars, because they get more attention than she ever did. It's the first thing her mother notices, and she almost cries of joy because she didn't believe it when they told her she'd finally turned. Enid catches her mom looking proudly at her scars from time to time, which is more attention than she ever gave her before. "Let me get a good look at you" she says, turning Enid's head to the side, tracing the scars. Enid wants to run away. Her mom doesn't say "I'm glad you're okay" she doesn't ask if it hurt. She says "finally" because Enid almost dying is less important than her wolfing out.
Enid starts wearing her hair in a way that hides them as much as possible. Until one day Wednesday asks her about it, "do you regret how you got your scars?" and Enid's words get stuck in her throat. And Wednesday, carefully tracing the area on Enid's cheek so she doesn't touch still healing wounds, tells her that they're just a visual representation of her choices. A part of her now, sure, but they're more like a footnote, an added detail to the intricacy of her. And when Wednesday looks at them she remembers how she saved her life that day.
"If you regret saving me, that's okay, but I can't bear to see you hiding yourself like this"
And Enid stops her then, because she would never regret what she did that day.
"It's just... it feels like my scars are the only thing mum loves about me"
And Wednesday says her mom's a fool, because "What's not to love about you?"
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michelle-is-writing · 11 months
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Tired, Spencer Reid
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Word Count: 800~
A case that takes more than a week to solve usually tires Spencer out to the point that he's zoning in and out of sleep as he enters the apartment. This case was no different. In fact, he was so tired out from everything that the first thing he did was plop down on the couch after dropping his bags by the door. Usually, he'll take them to the bedroom and unpack, and usually, he won't start falling asleep two seconds after pushing his face into my lap either.
Moving the book in my hands over to the side, I peer down at him and smile with an eyebrow raised. "Tired much?" I joke with him, taking a hand away from my book and placing it on top of Spencer's fluffy hair. He tiredly groans in response to my words before turning his face up to greet mine, only to be blocked by the book in my hands.
"I see you've begun reading from my side of the bookshelf," He notes with an exhausted smile. My smile brightens as I look back at the printed words of the many poets and writers during the transcendentalism era. "It fell when I was dusting earlier, and I've always enjoyed poems and short stories, so I decided I would read it," I explain, placing a finger in the book so I don't lose my place.
Planting his face back into my lap, Spencer speaks up. "How far have you gotten?" He asks, his voice muffled by my legs. I look back at the unread page in my hands and look for my previous spot.
"Currently, I'm in the middle of The Birthmark by Nathanael Hawthorne," I answer. "Do you want me to read it to you?" I question him, smiling as I comb my fingers through his hair.
"I would love that," He tells me, his eyes closing soon after. As soon as I see him do this, I just know he's going to fall asleep within a few seconds. Nonetheless, I still begin reading it to him, trying to make him stay awake for just a bit longer by keeping my voice slightly raised.
"Such a union took place and was attended with truly remark- Spencer?" Not even ten seconds pass after I begin reading that Spencer's snores start overriding my voice. Looking down at him, I hold back a laugh before nudging his shoulder. "Spencer?" I say his name. "Spencer...?" I repeat myself, drawing on his name until I see him lightly jolt and wake up.
"Did you already finish?" He asks, his voice already groggy. This time, I don't hold back my amused laughter and watch as the messy-haired goofball stares at me, confused.
"Baby," I begin. "I barely even started before you fell asleep," I inform him, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. Upon realizing it's the truth, he sighs before replanting his head back onto my lap.
"I'm sorry..." he apologizes, reaching a hand up to rest on my knee. He runs his thumb against the soft material of my pajama pants before eventually stopping, growing tired even with that.
"It's okay, sweetie," I assure Spencer, placing his book beside me on the couch before moving to stand up. Taking his hands into mine, I pull him up with me, causing his sluggish body to slump against me. However, Spencer quickly takes this chance to wrap his arms around me and hold me closer to him as he gently sways us in his hold. For a few moments, I savor his touch until the thought occurs to me that if he falls asleep and goes down, I'm going down with him.
"Spencer, honey, let's get you to bed," I murmur to him, receiving a small nod against my neck in response. Still, it takes a few seconds for Spencer to pull his face away from my neck and part from my embrace, showing me Spencer was probably enjoying our embrace like me as well.
After walking to our shared room with Spencer nearly stumbling behind me, I help him change out of his work clothes and into just his boxers before turning to grab him his pajamas. However, before I can grab anything, I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind. "Honey, let me grab your pajamas," I tell him with a small laugh as he almost whines.
"I'm okay, baby," He murmurs as he nuzzles his face into my neck like earlier. "Let's just get to bed," he adds. I can't help but simply nod at his words before turning and walking us over to our bed. As I pull the bed covers over, I feel Spencer begin to place light kisses down my neck. "I'll make it up to you for coming home so late~"
Shaking my head at his sudden mood change, I smirk at him before helping him lie down on our beige sheets and pulling the comforter over him despite his weak protests. "Tomorrow," I promise him, moving over to my side of the bed where I lie next to him. Without a second to spare, I feel myself become trapped in Spencer's arms just as he succumbs to a deep slumber. Spencer's soft snores from earlier return within seconds, making me slightly laugh to myself. He's so tired, it's like he's drunk - hence the sudden want for intimacy. I think I'll have a talk with Hotch tomorrow; he needs to stop sending my boyfriend home half-asleep and unsupervised.
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elitadream · 9 months
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Midnight Thoughts 🌃💙
Based on the heartfelt scene written by @s-creations. I loved the idea of Mario feeling conflicted and worried for Luigi's sake, and seeking his approval regarding their current situation! His little bro's happiness means everything to him. 🥺🙏
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xlpoww · 6 months
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she'll be the best you ever had, if you let her-
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you know it's for the better, you really do
who are you to ask for more really? you had already been so lucky to have crossed path with the self proclaimed “future king of the pirates” why do you think you deserve to the heart of the best chef in the east blue?
opla sanji! x f! reader
part two: let him
part three: when you were a waiting room
it stung, watching him falling over his own feet at every beautiful girl that walked by. 
the way he would blush so brightly, being so forward in his affections. 
every encounter chipping away at an already so fragile heart.
how lucky were you to be on board the same ship as him! to have your meals lovingly prepared by the chef of the going merry. why should it matter that it stung everytime his eyes lingered on your orange haired friend, when he jumped up at any request she made of him.
you knew she had no interest in him, none in the slightest. why couldn't he see it wasnt her who held such a burning flame for him inside?
she wasn't to blame, no, you adored nami. she’s so beautiful on the inside and out, and nothing short of a wonderful friend. everyone of the straw hat crew was, and you felt honored to have found a home among them.
you can wish all that you want, but it won’t bring you together. and you know, whatever happens, it’s for the better.
as the ship nears the dock of the island luffy had decided upon, you hear shuffling feet and a familiar voice exclaiming on the deck. it’s muffled, but the words sting nonetheless.
“how lucky am i to have been graced at the sight of such beauty! mademoiselle, what is your name?”
you don’t know how much more your heart can take.
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defectivehero · 3 days
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If you'd like, please write about an injured hero who needs to be carried around by villain! >:D
“One more complaint and I’m dropping you,” the villain announces, briefly readjusting their grip. They have one arm looped under the hero's knee and the other supporting their enemy's back.
The hero has been steadily avoiding eye contact, instead looking ahead. They look a bit flustered, for some reason. “This is humiliating,” the hero sighs, looking down at their ankle with a menacing glare.
“Yes, it is humiliating,” the villain agrees, an annoyed expression on their face as they stare ahead. They thank the stars that they're walking down a rather narrow and abandoned side street. They wouldn't be able to do this downtown, in broad daylight—both because they're too prideful, and because someone may recognize them. “Maybe if you had paid attention instead of tripping over nothing-”
“Hey, that’s not very nice bedside manner,” the hero interjects. The villain has to take a moment to process that statement.
“Bedside manner is for people who are ill or dying,” the villain sighs, “You’re just dramatic.” Gods, why do they even bother? They could be at home right now, washing the dried blood from their skin and melting under the warm water from their shower. Instead, they're carrying the hero across town as if they're some sort of delivery service. Absolutely ridiculous.
“You haven’t dropped me,” the hero points out. They look far too smug for the villain's liking. Indeed, their next remark nearly makes the villain's jaw crack from how hard they're gritting their teeth. “So I must be doing something right.”
The villain takes a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure. Leave it to their enemy to make a simple act of kindness so painful, overcomplicated, and tedious. “You’re clinging onto my neck so tightly that I’ll get whiplash if I drop you,” the villain feels the need to point out.
“Fair enough,” the hero acquiesces. After a moment’s contemplation, they loosen their grip on their neck. The villain can almost feel the weight slowly seeping from their shoulders. They had underestimated the hero's grip strength, it seems.
They expect the hero to be still once more, but their enemy doesn't relax. It only takes a few moments for them to snap. "Stop squirming," the villain demands.
"I was loosening my grip, asshole-" The hero seethes irritatedly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, what was that?" The villain asks, making a show of looking around at the empty street around them. "Was I just insulted for helping my enemy back to their agency—which, might I say, is an entirely voluntary and selfless act of heroism?"
The hero scoffs and rolls their eyes. "Oh, please," they huff. The villain gets the feeling that, if their arms were free, they'd cross them over their chest in indignation. "You wouldn't know heroism if it punched you in the face."
The villain just stares at them, waiting for them to catch on to what they just said. The hero connects the dots moments later, as they evidently realize that they themself have indeed punched the villain in the face before.
An awkward tension clings to the air. The villain continues walking down the street towards the hero's agency, internally cursing their pure heart. If this is how inconvenient it is to be a hero, then they don't plan on doing anything remotely good ever again.
Mercifully, the building begins to appear in the distance. As the villain crosses the street, the hero begins to murmur. “Let’s go in through the back,” they say, “Just turn the corner, there’s a door back there-”
“Oh, absolutely not,” the villain interjects immediately. "If we're doing this, then we're doing this." They readjust their grip once more and stroll towards the elaborate front doors of the city's top superhero agency. They can feel the hero stiffen in their arms.
“Please, no,” the hero begs them. The villain doesn’t bother listening, instead continuing to walk purposefully towards the entrance. The security is laughably lax at this hour. It's when they cross the threshold of the entrance that the hero attempts to break free from their grasp. Thankfully, the villain had been expecting them to do just that, and they manage to hold tight.
The villain pointedly clears their throat, satisfied with the way the occupants of the foyer immediately swivel around and stare with gazes of recognition. “I think I have something of yours,” they announce, looking down at the hero in their arms. At this point, the hero is positively wriggling in their arms—desperate for escape. The villain finally decides to take pity on them and they release their grip, leaving the hero to fall to the ground.
“Ouch.” The hero mutters once they hit the ground. The villain rolls their eyes, knowing that the hero managed to break their fall with a tactical roll and land without injury. They push themselves to stand on one foot and someone nearby rushes to their side, providing them adequate support to remain balanced on one side.
Everyone's eyes are on them, as if they're waiting for the villain to do something. "You may carry on," the villain orders, when a few seconds pass and the onlookers continue to stare expectantly. Their voice seems to break through the confusion and anticipation, and the people scattered around the space return to whatever they were doing. "I've done my civic duty for the year." They mutter to themself, turning on their heel and heading for the door.
"Hey." The hero's voice makes them freeze in place. The villain inhales slowly, summoning more patience. They turn around and manifest a calm expression.
"What?" They ask, struggling to keep the frustration from their voice.
"Thanks." The hero smiles.
"Just- don't let it happen again," the villain answers, looking away from the hero's far-too-bright smile. They turn on their heel and walk away, pushing away any and all feelings born from their enemy's gratitude.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
endnotes below!
the villain, holding the hero by the scruff of their neck: look what i foundddd!
the villain: this heroism stuff sucks. the hero: *expresses their gratitude and smiles* the villain, visibly flustered: now hold on a second...
this dynamic really amuses me. I can't get rid of the mental image of the villain holding the hero by the scruff of the neck like a kitten, and the hero just kind of hanging there in defeat. good stuff.
the villain lies awake that night, unable to stop thinking about the hero. :3
and thanks to the anon who sent this request! I posted a cry for help yesterday very briefly and then got embarrassed and deleted it, but! the original point still stands: my ask box is open! send me stuff and i *may* write it!
if ur reading this, ily <3 hehe
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iluvmorales · 10 months
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Spider-Man?
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Summary miles has a panic attack while on patrol, for what reason??
a/n requests are open stillll (P.S this fic is kinda short.)
Warnings panic attack
the clock on your phone read 10:30, you needed help with physics but the only person that could help would be Miles.
You shot miles a text, asking if he wanted to call and work on the vision academy’s packet they gave over break.
Usually, the boy replied within a couple seconds, but for some reason once it was dark out, he would take hours. Sighing, you placed your phone screen down on your desk as you got to work on the physics sheet, knowing you’d definitely pass if miles would help you.
Your pencil wrote down equations that you truthfully, did not really understand but it seemed like the answers were close enough. Just as you’d gotten into your little study bubble, mind elsewhere, you saw a figure on your window, leaning against it with a thud.
You rolled your chair back to your night stand, picking up your taser from the top drawer before getting up from the chair slowly creeping back. You opened the blinds and saw a black suit.. Spider-Man?
You opened the window, only to see him on the floor of the fire escape level, sitting with his head thrown back as his chest rose and fell quickly.
You could definitely hear his hyperventilation all the way from the cracked window, and saw blood as well. You felt scared, of him and the situation. “Spider-Man?” You called out, voice lacing concern as you stepped out onto the fire escape, dropping your taser.
The hero only continued to hyperventilate, his body trembling. You walked to him and knelt in-front of him, hand on his shoulder now. His body only flinched at your contact but he continued to breathe raggedly as if he could not catch his breath. He lifted his arm, slipped off his mask, revealing miles.
Your eyes grew wide, watching the fear in the boys face and the way his lips were parted as he tried to breathe. “Miles? What the fuck happened?” You whisper yelled, now actually concerned instead of scared.
He closed his eyes, face and eyebrows twisting as if he were in pain. He was having flashbacks of what he had seen before he came to you. You lifted his legs to his chest, and took both of his hands in yours.
He was still shaking like crazy, but he’d brought his head back down to look at you before closing his eyes again trying to not think about it.
“Miles, breathe” you breathed in, placing one of his hands to feel your breathing, then breathed out. “Focus on your breathing, focus on how I’m doing it” your voice was low and calm, demonstrating a breathing exercise for him.
He nodded, eyes shutting closed as he followed your breathing. Miles tuned out the loud police sirens, people walking down the street and the dim neon lights, hyper focusing on your heart beat and breathing.
He noticed how fast your heart was beating, but your breathing was still calm and regular, he attempted his best to copy you, breathing in when you did and letting it out when you did.
His slowly returned back to normal, the shaking coming to a stop. You felt his arm go limp, the stiffness that came from the panic attack melted away. “Miles talk to me,” you breathed out, scooting closer as you watched his head droop to his knees.
“I’m- okay..” he whispered, voice so soft but shrill, it pained you to hear him like this. Miles was always positive, joyful and so loud. This was, a panic attack? You could only reach your arms out to him, giving him a choice to either come into your embrace or stay how he was.
Miles looked up at you, the tears that pricked his eyes already spilled and stopped. He leaned forward into your open arms, arms around your waist as his head rested on your chest. You wrapped one arm around him and another caressing his head.
You both sat there in silence, miles listening to your heart beat as you rubbed circles into his back. “You wanna talk about it?” You whispered, not stopping your motions. Miles shook his head slightly; “jus’ wanna stay like this for a lil longer” he mumbled, cheek squished from him laying on your chest.
You just nodded, throwing your head back as you looked up at the barely visible stars. Having the top floor apartment was a blessing right about now.
You stayed like that, never moving miles as he’d fallen fast asleep, his breaths were light but finally going at a normal pace. You figured you’d talk to him about everything when he was ready to open up. “goodnight miles.” You whispered, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
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axtrr · 2 years
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Routine
I've been gone far too long. To make up for my absence, here is some pure filth for y'all.
Runt Werewolf x Fem!Reader (18+, minors do not interact)
Summary: Your boyfriend may be the runt of his pack, but that doesn't mean he's any less affected by his "wolf problems."
Warnings: nsft, monsterfucking (obviously), knotting, breeding, heat, use of the phrase "good girl," belly bulge, and a pathetic wolfboy <3
You came home late from work, expecting to find your boyfriend, Jonah, passed out on the couch. The werewolf had made a habit of waiting like a lost puppy for you to come home. Today, however, the living room was empty, and you were faced with something else: the sounds of soft whines and whimpers coming from your bedroom. His whimpers. Almost like the ones he’d squeak out when he got hurt, but…a little different. You entered the room quietly, leaning slightly on the doorframe. Noah was curled in on himself, his face buried in the mattress, his clawed hands gripping the sheets tightly enough to rip them. 
“Jonah, baby,” you said, “is everything okay?”
When he realized you were there, his head snapped up, wide eyes surrounded by red from crying. He panted, struggling to force out a coherent sentence. 
“Ngh— c’mere…please,” he groaned, “Need…you. Need you bad…fuck…”
“Aw,” you cooed, realizing what was going on, “my poor baby’s in heat, huh?”
He nodded, his eyes pleading for you to get on the bed and help him. 
“Babe…” he whined, moving his leg and allowing you to catch a glimpse of his throbbing boner. You sighed, taking off your shirt. “Alright, baby, gimme a minute. Let me get undressed and I’m all yours.”
And when you said you were going to be all his, you meant it. You’ve helped Jonah through his heat cycles before and you knew you were in for a long night. 
When you finished stripping down, you joined the werewolf in bed, laying back on the pillows as he quickly climbed on top of you, impatient and desperate for relief. Normally, he’d enter slowly, letting you adjust to his girth, but tonight he pushed himself in to the base, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. 
“Good girl…good girl,” he growled softly, his claws digging into the mattress as he started to thrust roughly inside you, his movements erratic and needy. Even as he railed you, he was adorably vocal, letting out a “please,” or “oh, fuck,” between pleading moans. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and heavy on your skin as he drove himself deeper inside your wet cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist and held onto him tightly, enjoying every bit of this pleasure. 
After a while, Jonah slowed his thrusting, panting heavily as he kissed along the shell of your ear.
“Fuck,” he panted, desperately pounding in and out of your sloppy cunt, “I love you— I love you so much, baby, oh, fuck…“
As he painted your walls with his cream, the head of his cock swelled to fill you, stopping him from pulling out as he came, dumping load after thick load inside your sensitive hole until your tummy bulged with hot come. He clung to you as he calmed down, dick still being hugged tight by your warm walls. He moved so the two of you were laying on your sides, holding you close to his chest.
“Mm,” he sighed, “Thank you, baby...Needed to get off…so bad…”
You smiled softly and snuggled closer to him. 
“Of course,” you murmured, leaving a kiss on his neck. You laid back, getting yourself comfortable beside him and ready to sleep when you heard the low rumble of his voice in your ear.
“No, baby,” he purred, “I'm not done yet.”
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bunnypeew · 1 month
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I’m here with you dearest - Alastor x Gn!Reader
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so I’m currently in the bus and i was leaning on the empty seat next to me and thought “holy shit a fic with Al with this ambience would be cute as fuck” so to writing i go!!
it’s not often they had to travel around by bus, since Alastor usually teleported them around no problem! But today he was really busy so bus it was.
They entered the vehicle after waiting for a few minutes out at the stop, it was a rather nice day despite the cold wind blowing so they were glad when they got inside, hot air beating the cold form before.
the bus was rather empty, with a few sinners and imps around there but nothing too crazy, so they find an empty seat near the window and settle.
The journey was gonna be a long one because to get where they needed to be would’ve took them an hour or more! So they sat there listening to music calmly from the headphones.
They were pretty tired already since they woke up pretty early to get the bus so it was no doubt they were gonna fall asleep at some point, and that did happen not long after they got in the bus.
Said vehicle started getting filled up with sinners just waiting to sit down and go to their journey. The only seat left untouched was the one next to Y/n, and as they were sleeping they didn’t realise that people wanted to sit down there, the headphones didn’t help the case either since they couldn’t hear a thing and plus the other seat held their backpack
“hey bitch! someone wants to seat here!! get your dumb backpack out the seat!”
someone was shouting at the unconscious demon but they didn’t budge, it was until the sinner tried to reach for the backpack that a big shadow appeared and grabbed his hand rather violently and whipped him away from near Y/n.
the shadow materialised under the backpack only for it to be raised and Alastor appearing underneath it, wide smile on his face and a hating look in his eyes to the people around him, which made everyone back away
Y/n woke up slightly muttering something under their breath, it was until they noticed was someone was next to them that they tried to get composed in the seat only for a hand to slither on their waist and one in their hand
“don’t worry your pretty head darling”
they heard from next to them making them slightly more relaxed then before, understanding that it was him and not some creep
“i’m here with you dearest”
a/n: can you tell i’m touch deprived and lonely?? yes of course. ANYWAY HERE IT IS!! the deer boy is very protective of you~
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justcallmesakira · 2 months
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"All pickup lines are taken, can I pick you up?~
Sypnosis: Whats better then flirting with your own lover by shocking him with the most flabbergasting pickup line?
Genre: Lowkey crack, a bit suggestive?
Pairings: Dazai x reader
A/N: this was so fun especially since this was a short drabble💗💗💗guys read it again if you already read it I made slight changes
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Today was probably the quietest day in the agency especially since dazai was somehow in a calm mood today. Though it's a very rare possibility of dazais shenanigans to not be on display, everyone was doing their work.
Dazai was leaning against a wall probably thinking of some suicide method in that brain of his. Only God knew what goes on in that big brain of his.
You came marching over to the office with a cheeky grin on yourself which immediately made ranpo jolt up from his seat with a shocked look on his face... Oh boy what did he deduce....
"Helloooo~ donna'! How was your da-" Before dazai could speak the whole of your arm was right beside him with your knee bend down beside his pair of daddy long legs which immediately made his eyes widen in shock.
Only silence in the agency could be heard for a few seconds before everyone's eyes switch to you pining the bandaged man to him.
"I'd love to take you to the movies but they don't let you bring your own snacks" you spit out with a grinding face which makes dazai brain a long time to process what in the rizz lord did you say.
Oh ho ho, you didn't stop there
"By the way, Dazai have we met before? Because you look like my next husband"
you winked at dazai with the most nasty eye, the type of expression which any boy would give to a girl.
Yosano was sighing with ranpo beside her giving them the nastiest eye anyone in the room could give. Atsushi was beyond flustered by your bold move, good thing kenji and kyouka went on a playda-- I mean mission.
Kunikida was simply shocked because of his no pda rule.
Dazai's senses finally came back which made him snicker. "my my, belladonna, trying to be dominating now are we, Though the thought of sliding a ring on your empty finger isn't a bad idea" He really had the audacity to tease you and grin at you while he's the one being pushed against the wall like a poster.
Your little interaction was interrupted when Kunikida came raging towards you two with a file in his hands, hitting the both of you harshly and giving you two a quick scold.
Deep inside though, dazais heartbeat really fastened though that even he couldn't code it down.
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A/N: idk if I should do more well written parts....
Divider creds: @cafekitsune
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artiststarme · 10 months
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After the Upside Down, Steve decided to thank Eddie for staying alive. He had to stay in the hospital for weeks to recover from the bat bites and blood loss but he’d done it. Then he had to spend a few weeks in County Jail until Dustin and Hopper were able to brainstorm and come up with a way to clear his name. So Steve figured he deserved something nice after going through all of that.
But when he presented him with tickets to the Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica concert scheduled for July in Evansville, Eddie burst into tears.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry! Did I get the tickets to the wrong band? Don’t worry about it, I’ll try to sell them. You don’t need to cry!” Steve was horrifyingly embarrassed. Great, he was trying to do something to make Eddie feel better and instead he made him cry. Nice going, Steve.
He certainly didn’t expect Eddie to pull him in by his shirt collar to plant a kiss on his lips. His eyes stared at Eddie’s closed lids until he pulled away. Did… did Eddie just kiss him?
“What- um, what was that for, Eds?”
“I love you, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice wavered slightly with nerves but his eyes met Steve’s dead-on.
“Oh, thanks. I-uh, I love you too. We should probably go on a date first though.”
Eddie chuckled at him softly. “Of course, I’m taking you to the concert. You’re gonna love it, Big Boy.”
And like always, Eddie was right. He did love the concert and he loved watching Eddie having fun. Most of all though, he loved loving Eddie which he did from that day forward.
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Note
Hello, hope you're having a good day.
Could you write a snippet about a civilian taking in an injured stranger. The stranger is maybe a past lackey or assistant for Villan hiding from him. Villan appears at the civilians door asking kindly for them back🙂 Civilan is torn between keeping them away from villan or handing lackey over for their own saftey.
The second the door opened, it clicked exactly why the stranger had seemed so naggingly familiar. The civilian swallowed. They looked the villain up and down, slowly, like maybe that might make him disappear again.
It didn't.
The villain stayed standing on their doorstep, a perfectly pleasant smile on his face.
The civilian's fingers twitched on the door frame.
"Don't," the villain said. "Insurance won't cover me breaking your door down. May I come in?"
"I'd feel a lot better if you didn't." It came out raspy.
The villain gave an understanding nod. "Perhaps you'll send them out instead then?"
"Them?" the civilian squeaked. "I - I don't -"
The villain tilted his head, giving the civilian a gently chiding sort of look.
The civilian's mouth clicked shut. Their fingers flexed on the door again, mind racing through their options.
The villain stuck his hands in his pockets, seeming perfectly inclined to wait.
"...are you going to force your way in here if I don't?"
"Yes."
"Right."
There was a beat of silence, and the civilian shifted squirming on their feet. "They're hurt. They seem -" The civilian cleared their throat. "You're not going to hurt them, are you?"
The villain's pleasant smile broadened a fraction; an offering of white teeth. "Of course not."
He was lying. The stranger's reactions, their sweating nightmares and soft cries of restless terror made that all too clear already. It had been a stupid question to ask. Maybe they'd simply hoped the lie would be more convincing; their guilt assuaged.
"Right," the civilian said again, faintly.
They scanned the night sky for any convenient heroes. Anything, really. The evening was quiet. The sound of late night TV drifted soothingly through their neighbour's wall.
They couldn't afford to pay for a new door.
It wasn't like they could stop the villain, was it? Any defence they put up would just be bravado, idiocy. Telling the villain 'no' might feel good for all of three seconds, right before it changed absolutely nothing except how much the civilian got hurt in the process.
The civilian bit their lip, studying the villain.
"Would you prefer I bribed you?" the villain asked, kindly. They fished their wallet out. It was sleek brown leather. Fancy like. The villain extracted a few hundred in crisp notes; enough to make the civilian give a strangled little wheeze.
"No, thank you," the civilian said. They wrenched their gaze from the cash. "Um."
"I'm not interested in you," the villain said. "Beyond being grateful that you offered them assistance when they needed it. We can keep it that way."
"You're not going to kill me?"
"I considered it," the villain said, in the same kind voice. "Nothing personal for you. Just a punishment for them, you understand, for thinking that there's anywhere they can go."
The civilian flinched.
The villain gave a theatrical wince. "Too malevolent?"
"A bit."
"I'm on a time schedule," the villain said. "So if you'd just...step out of the way or go get them. I'd hate to squash you."
"I'd hate to be squashed."
"Ah, The Princess Bride." The villain swept forward, ruffling the civilian's hair. "I love that movie."
The civilian didn't mean to step in the way. It just sort of happened.
They imagined the villain's former right hand, inside, huddled looking terribly small under a fluffy blanket on the sofa.
The villain raised an eyebrow. He turned what felt like his full attention on the civilian for the first time.
The civilian nearly passed out on the spot. They squared their shoulders. "I think they know where to find you. If they, you know, want to."
"Darling."
The civilian squeezed their eyes shut for a moment. They drew a steadying breath.
"Perhaps," the villain said, "you'd like to go and ask your guest what happens to people who cross me. Perhaps you'd like a story about one of the many, many times they hurt someone like you because I asked them to. How healed are they now, do you reckon?" The villain placed two fingers beneath the civilian's chin, tipping their head up. "Enough to break every bone in your body if I ask really nicely? It might get them back in my good books."
"You said you wouldn't hurt them."
"And I won't. Do you think they'd try and protect you so sweetly, if the tables were turned? You know who they are. What they are."
The civilian opened their eyes. They looked at the villain.
The villain dropped his hand, and put his wallet back in his pocket. He did not step back.
"You have three seconds, love, or I'm coming in."
The civilian went and fetched the villain's former right hand - still feverish and halfway to broken - helping them to the door with an arm around their waist.
The former right hand didn't seem surprised to see the villain, though their grip tightened on the civilian for a heartbeat. Like the civilian, they scanned the empty, black skies for salvation.
There was only the villain, who assessed his former right hand for a moment, noting the limp.
"Tell me, if you want to live," the villain said, idly, to the civilian. "What they are."
Guilt, rancid and world-ending, rose up the civilian's throat.
"They're yours."
"Damn right they are."
The villain offered the former right-hand a steadying arm, a crutch, with that same pleasant smile on his face.
The ex right hand shot them a look, muttered a half-delirious "sorry" and "thanks" to the civilian, and painstakingly shoved past and began to walk down to the car.
The villain winked at the civilian, and followed.
The civilian never saw either of them again.
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yayakoishii · 5 months
Note
Hello love! I saw your post asking for Sanji requests and as a die hard lover of both the anime and live action Sanji, I'll happily provide.
The crew ends up docking at a random island to rest and stay a bit on solid ground. When looking for a place to stay/eat they come across the readers restraunt. Just as they're about to walk in a customer gets thrown out the front door with the reader angrily yelling about manners and how to treat people respectfully.
The readers a cook, a little short tempered, loud, and unapologetically themselves and Sanji instantly falls in love.
Alright alright I'm done now ~ 🍄🐛💫
Respect | Sanji x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji × Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Genre: Fluff??
A/n: Hey there anon!! I'm super late, but I hope you're still around to see this <3 tbh, this isn't my best work and I feel like it got a little ooc and derailed a bit towards the end but I hope you enjoy it! for all my short temper, I have no idea how to write an angry little gremlin lol.
To everyone else, thank you for the 100 followers and all the likes and comments!! This is insane tbh, I wasn't expecting anything on any of my works 😭 Y'all are too kind ❤️
also available on ao3!
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The island they had docked on wasn't all that big, but the people there were lively. There weren't many hotels they could find since the town wasn't all that big, and any that they found were already filled to the brim. Finally after walking around for a while, they found a small tavern quite a ways from the shore. It seemed to be a little lively because there were sounds coming from the inside but it seemed to not be so full that they couldn't grab a table.
As they neared the door of the establishment, it suddenly banged open and two men fell through, looking a little roughed up and angry. The crew lingered at a distance, wondering what was going on when you came out, your chef's hat perfectly atop your head, with your hands on your hips.
"I better not see you around here ever again!" You snapped at the two, who flinched ever so slightly. "If you lack manners, that's YOUR problem. You can't take it out on my girls and expect me to treat you like the valued customers you are not."
The two sat up and glared at you, ready to retort but you raised the pan in your hand, waving it in front of their faces.
"Scram, unless you want me to burn your face," you finished calmly. That was enough. The two immediately scrambled up and ran into the distance. You huffed and blew away the lock of hair that had slipped out of your hat. You were about to turn around and go back in when you noticed the group standing there. "What?"
"Oh, um, we were looking for a place to eat?" Chopper felt the need to answer because you were staring at him. (You were a little curious and didn't mean to stare but that was hard when the group was full of… unique characters.)
"Well, a table just got empty so help yourself in," you grumbled, jerking your thumb to beckon them inside. The crew silently followed you in, to find that your tavern was mostly full too but the people were more calm and the ruckus of the other hotels was missing. "Oh yeah. Before you settle in, you should know the one rule of my establishment."
You narrowed your eyes at them. "You treat any of my girls with anything less than respect and you'll be thrown out like those two. Capisce?"
The crew just nodded, too hungry to actually bother with anything else but Sanji couldn't help but find you absolutely charming. It was common to find people who bent and let their customers do whatever for the sake of business, but you were protective of your employees and you didn't care about being a fake sort of nice. He watched you stalk back to where the food was being cooked, responding nicely to the customers asking if all was good. You were nice where it mattered, and unapologetically yourself if your values were threatened. It was all too easy to find you like a breath of fresh air.
That wasn't even what did it, though. For Sanji, what did it was the moment one of your waitresses had come back with the food they had ordered and he had tasted the dish he had watched you prepare with the ease and expertise of someone who clearly loved and lived for their profession. One bite and he nearly moaned there, masking it under a hum of appreciation.
Even Luffy was looking at the food star eyed and his speed in sucking up the food somehow increased. Sanji tried to not do the same, wanting to savour the taste as long as he could but it was clear that if he took too long, Luffy would have finished it all by then.
The hotel was nearly empty by the time they were done and they were one of the only customers still remaining. Sanji was sure it was dark enough outside that they would need light to make their way back to the ship. You were finishing off, calling out orders for the girls who were starting to clear up. You caught his eye and Sanji couldn't look away, mesmerised by the sight of you removing your hat and shaking your hair free. You were gorgeous, a good cook, and had the personality of a firework. He had to do something–
"Let's take her with us!" Luffy announced suddenly, banging his hand on the table. Everyone startled and Sanji stared at him as if he has grown two heads.
"Uh Luffy, that's kidnapping–" Nami's words died out the moment she noticed you walking up to their table.
"Hey there," you gave them all a small smile. "Will you guys be needing anything else or should I draw up the bill? I'm afraid it's getting close to closing time."
"Come with us!!" Luffy grinned. You paused and looked at him weirdly.
"Sorry?" You said.
"What he means, mademoiselle," Sanji intervened, giving you the most charming smile he had, "is that your food was absolutely delicious. Our captain would like to have you onboard as a chef."
You were silent, staring at them all with a blank look, until you finally looked at Sanji. Your gaze made him putty but he tried to remain firm.
"You don't have a cook or something?" You smiled, a little amused.
"Sanji is the cook!" Luffy answered, pointing a finger at the blonde man, who was too busy giving you googly eyes to answer. You cocked an eyebrow at that, looking at the said man.
"And you don't mind another chef invading your territory?" You asked, curious. The crew didn't seem to be more than the people in your hotel. There really didn't seem to be any need for an extra chef to you; and anyway, you were happy with your little hole in the wall place. You were just asking because you were curious, not because you actually planned to join them.
"If it's you, you can invade any space of mine, my lady," Sanji's eyes had turned into hearts as he uttered the words. Nami whacked him on the head, worried he would freak you out but that earned him a loud laugh from you.
"You're funny," you grinned, looking back at Luffy with an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, I'm happy where I am. Thanks for the offer but I can't. Now, are you gonna pay up or…?"
Luffy looked like he was going to protest but Usopp held him back. Nami grumbled as she pulled out the pouch of money to pay off their bill and yet all Sanji could think of was begging you to join them. He didn't need another person to cook; he was quite enough. But you, with all your loud beauty, were like a sparkling gem he would never find again. He wanted to have you, to know you, to know all your little quirks and interests. He wanted to cook beside you and fall in love– with cooking and with you, all over again.
The crew started to make their way out but Sanji lingered back, making his way towards you. You noticed and gave him a smile, noting that he really was handsome when he wasn't all heart eyed and half a puddle.
"Is there any way I can change your mind?" He blurted out, feeling his insides shake in anticipation.
"I don't know," you teased, suddenly starting to contemplate if it wouldn't be such a bad idea. You had always wanted to travel, to cook for all kinds of people with all kinds of ingredients; you just never could and had to make do with a small hotel on a small island. Wasn't this a chance to make your dreams come true? "What can you do to convince me?"
"Anything you want from me, mademoiselle," he said breathlessly, gently picking up your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. Your heart fluttered at the action, and you flushed. No one had ever treated you like this, like you were something delicate and priceless and every moment you looked in Sanji's eyes made you feel like you were about to be set on fire.
"W- Well," you stuttered, feeling like you had lost control, "how about you help with the dishes then?"
Surely he would not agree to that. This was just a game, and it was time he would back out. You would go back to your little place, and he would go back to his ship. There was no way he would be okay with–
"Is that all it takes, my lady?" The light purr in his voice made your cheeks feel warm.
"N- no, it's just the start," you turned away from him, trying to hide the blush rising up your cheeks. He was far too good looking to be paying you so intense attention and there was something about him that was capturing your heart, tempting it to agree to his words. If you left your girls behind, who would take care of them? All those men who treated them like they were dolls on display would not just disappear the moment you left the island. You couldn't leave them…
"Then, show me the way," he smiled at you, all perfect white teeth shining under the golden lights of your hotel. You just pointed him to the tower of dishes that his own crew had left behind and watched a little astonished as he really started to wash them.
"He's certainly one of a kind," your fellow cook and friend nudged you as she spoke. You couldn't look away from him as you answered her.
"I don't know what it is about him, but whenever he looks at me, I feel…" You abruptly cut off, feeling embarrassed. "Nothing!"
"You feel nothing?" You friend teased, "That blush on your cheeks doesn't look like nothing to me~"
"Shut up," you growled, hackles raised at the teasing. You never fared well with being teased or flirted with, and unfortunately, it seemed the blonde man– Sanji, his captain had called him, you remembered –was exactly of the latter type. He was no good for you, right?
"I don't know," your friend sighed, drawing up a sad smile as she looked at you. "I know your dream. Even if you don't feel anything for him, I know their offer is a chance for you. Why don't you just take it?"
"I can't leave you all behind," you murmured, heart paining at the thought of ditching them just for your dreams. "If I'm not here, what if–"
"Nothing's gonna happen," your friend interrupted you. "Come on, we aren't no weaklings. And I'm here, aren't I? I'll make sure everyone is safe and taken care of. So don't worry about us and go get your man– I mean, go fulfil your dreams."
You whacked her arm at the teasing, smiling genuinely as you watched Sanji finish off the dishes already. He was so fast, and you couldn't help but feel silly for finding that sexy. Competence and confidence was always sexy.
"Alright," you mumbled to yourself. "I'll do it. But, I think I'll take my time. I did say this is just the start."
Your friend raised an eyebrow at your amused smile. Sanji waved at you to indicate that he was done and you waved back, starting to make your way to him.
"It's more fun this way, isn't it?"
°•❀•°
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aziraphales-library · 16 days
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hello there!! first of all this blog is absolutely amazing tysm for all the work put into it :)) secondly, do you have any recommendations for fics where crowley or aziraphale confess before metatron entered the scene (e.g. aziraphale confesses sometime at the ball/crowley confesses at the “smitten” scene)? again, thank you so much 💖
Hi! Here are some fics in which love confessions happen earlier...
just thinking of you, i know i’ve loved you from the start by ineffablyseraphic (G)
"Angel, what is going on?" Crowley growled, keeping his voice low. Aziraphale felt his heart jump as he did so. "Nothing, my dear boy," He assured, "We’re just having a ball. Jane Austen, remember?" Crowley scoffed. "We both know this won't work. This isn't the 1800s anymore. People just don't… fall in love with some froofy violins and choreographed dance moves." — or basically my take if the demons didn’t storm the bookshop and aziraphale got to confess.
A Dance Of Our Own by LynFraser09 (T)
He slid his hand down Aziraphale’s arm to grab his hand and then with his other hand, snapped, and the record player scratched as it came to life. Aziraphale’s face lit up in a smile and he squeezed Crowley's hand and slipped his other arm around him as the familiar music floated into the bookshop. OR An Alternate Scene where the Demons don't attack the bookshop that night and Crowley and Aziraphale share a dance and something more.
Smitten by chaoticstreamer (T)
"When Gabriel smites you, you've been... smited? Smote?" "Smitten, I believe." Aziraphale was viscerally aware that his face was showing more than he ought, yet how could he have stopped? Aziraphale's heart was beating unnecessarily, the notepad clutched in his hands tighter as he smiled at Crowley. Yes, smitten was the word. ------‐---------------------------------------------------------- Or, What if the demons hadn't attacked? What if Metatron hadn't come down... what if they had confessed?
no one's got what we've got going by shrack (G)
Nina asks Crowley if Aziraphale is his partner. Crowley thinks he would like it if Aziraphale was. or: Crowley confesses at Marguerite's before The Ball.
we should just kiss like real people do by lesbicosmos (G)
imagine if the bookshop dance scene didn't get interrupted by demons. this is that fic.
blame it on the boogie by hannotsolo (T)
“A slow dance?!” “Yes, a slow dance!” —————————- What if Shax never got to interrupt the ball and things got a whole lot more romantic.
- Mod D
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