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pascalscenarios · 3 years

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THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You wake up at Frankie’s house. You spend the day with him, only for things to be finally revealed.

Warning: Swearing

Words: 4552

Authors Note: Whew... You guys aren’t ready for this one...Ahhh!!! Also I just want to say thank you so much for reading my fic. It means so much to me! Enjoy - k

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Chapter 5

The sunlight peeked through the window, shining down on the bed. Your hair was a mess, sprawled out and disheveled as your head rested against pillows. A white comforter covered your body. You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom. You should have felt scared or panicked when waking up in a stranger's bed, but you felt safe.

You could smell him on the sheets, it was Frankie's bed. You were at Frankie's house.

You laid there trying to remember the events from last night. You were partying with your friends in the club and somehow you ended up with Frankie? Your memories were blurred, only remembering bits and pieces.

You sit up in the bed, your head pounding. Looking down you noticed you were wearing an oversized grey shirt and sweatpants. These definitely weren’t the clothes you wore last night.

You look over to the nightstand to find two Advils and a tall glass of water. You pull the covers off from your body, tossing your legs off the side of the bed. You pop the pills in your mouth and chug down the water.

With the glass in your hand, you get up and walk over and open the bedroom door. The door led to a hallway with multiple other doors. Towards the end of the hall was a large opening, you assumed it was the living room because you heard that the tv was on.

Your feet padded against the wooden floors as you made your way to the living room. The local news was playing on the tv.

“Looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake.”

You gasped. Startled, you turn around to find Frankie leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand.

“H-hi” you stuttered out.

“Good morning.”

Awkwardness and silence filled the air like usual.

You slowly walk into the kitchen, passing him to get to the sink. You set the glass down in the stainless steel tub and turn to face him. He was staring at you while sipping his coffee, waiting for you to say something.

You stared down at your fingers as you fiddled with them. “Frankie..”

You swear he could read your mind because he started explaining everything that happened last night. He knew you were most likely confused as to why you were at his house.

“You called me last night drunk.” He says placing his coffee mug down on the counter. “You were lost and didn’t know where you were. I’m pretty sure you meant to call Alex, but somehow you called me? I came to pick you up, took you to eat at Dolly's. I was going to take you home, but I don’t know where you live and you were sleeping, so I brought you back to my place.” He explains running his hands through his moppy curls.

“I gave you clothes for you to change into, you took a shower, and slept in my bed. I took the couch.” He motions his head in the direction of the living room.

You look over, seeing a pillow and blanket bunched up on the couch.

“You know I would never-”

“I know, Frankie.” You tell him softly. “I trust you. I always have.” Your heart wrenched. The fact he drove all the way into the city in the early hours of the morning and took care of you meant a lot to you. It was proof that despite what happened between you two, he would always be there for you.

“So… “ He says trying to change the subject. “How’d you get my number?”

God this was going to be embarrassing.

Your face started to turn red as you spoke “Santiago gave it to me. I told him once a couple of years ago I wanted to call you. I’ve tried many times to press call under your name, but I always got scared and chickened out.” you confessed.

“Funny, I did the same thing too, asking him for your number, but never calling.” He chuckled, folding his arms against his chest.

“Huh...you know for the past 10 years I thought you’d never think of me again after that night.” You say you continued to fiddle with your fingers.

“I thought about you every day since then, Smiles. You were always on my mind...you still are.”

You glance up at him. Your heart was beating against your chest at his statement.

You both make eye contact. God, those gorgeous brown eyes that always made you melt. You were a sucker for his eyes, they were captivating. You could always read him from the look in his eyes. His eyes were sorrowful, but also longing.

You quickly divert your eyes breaking you from the trance you were in. What are you doing?! You’re going to get married! You can’t be thinking so deeply about someone else, let alone someone being your ex-boyfriend. Snap out of it!

“So why are your plans for the day?” Making conversation and acting like you guys didn’t have a moment just then. You walked past him and went to go sit on his couch.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He says trailing off, following you, plopping himself down on the opposite side of the couch, giving you some space.

“I was gonna drop you off at home whenever you are ready then go fishing out on the lake for a bit” he picks up the remote and starts flipping through the channels. He stops when he notices Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope is airing on tv.

You didn’t want to go home just yet. A few weeks ago you were dead set on avoiding Frankie, but something changed. You wanted to be in his company and spend time with him, at least for today.

“Can I go with you?” you asked.

“Go with me?” He sounded confused.

“Yeah...I mean like spend the day with you...go fishing?”

“You’re hungover and want to go fishing...with me…?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Um...yeah?”

“Don’t you wanna go home?”

“I mean if you want me to leave I can-”

“No!” he said a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “No, you can stay as long as you want, it's just” he stops. “Several weeks ago you were pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. You said things between us weren’t fine, we weren’t on friendly terms, and for me to stop wedging my way into your life.”

“I mean it’s a little too late for that now, you managed to crack your way in.” You sighed.

“Have I?”

“You were always a constant in my life until you weren't. You were the closest person to me besides Santiago. So naturally for me, as much as I want to push you away, I’m also drawn to you... You’re familiar. Since you came back into my life, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately..” you opened up to him.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know... That I’ve missed you, despite everything. Think it would be therapeutic for us to talk and hang out for a day.”

Frankie stayed silent.

“Okay,” he nods, giving you a small smile.

…

You were getting ready to leave with Frankie. You didn’t have anything else to wear, so you decided to just continue wearing his shirt and sweats. It was that or the outfit you wore last night. You patiently waited for Frankie in the living room as he gathered things he needed. You walked over to the front door, grabbing your bag that sat on the small. You reached into your bag pulling your phone out.

Your phone had TONS of text messages and missed calls from your friends and Alex. Your finger sliced against your phone screen noting the long list of notification banners. They had no idea what happened to you last night or where you were. They were worried, thinking the worst possible things that could have happened to you.

You opened your phone, pressing the call icon. Looking at your call log, you noticed you did call Frankie last night. Shaking your head, you clicked contacts, and pressed on Alex’s name. You pressed the phone against your ear.

The call picked up

“Alex-”

“THANK GOD! Where are you?! Are you okay?! The girls were looking for you all night, I was so close to calling the cops! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Alex was worried.

“I’m sorry, I got lost, but I’m fine,” you reassured them.

“Let me come get you, where-”

“Actually, I’m not coming home yet…”

“What? Why? What's wrong?” Alex asked, he thought you were being suspicious.

“I just need time alone…” You lied. I mean you did want to be alone... but with Frankie.

“Time alone? What I’m confu-”

“Alex, I promise you fine. I’m safe….I just need to be alone right now. I’ll explain everything later. I love you. I gotta go”

“Wait-”

You quickly hang up the phone and put your phone back in the bag.

You put your phone back in the bag. You didn’t want to tell him what happened over the phone. It was better to tell him everything in person. You’re debating if you wanted to tell him you were hanging out with Frankie. What he doesn’t know wouldn’t kill the right?

You decided to walk around the room, looking at the various knick-knacks and miscellaneous items Frankie had displayed on his shelves. There were photos of Frankie with his friends and family members, people you recognized. A framed photo caught your eyes. It was a child's painting, with various bright colors brushed on the sheet. In the middle was a handprint of a small child, and one of a grown person.

You continue to walk around the room when you accidentally step on something. You lift your foot, noticing a sterling silver ring on the ground. It was a dainty ring of a crescent moon.

Girlfriend, you thought. You remember him talking to someone on the phone the night with Santiago. It had to be a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend and he brought you home while you were drunk? That’s not good. Yet again you are engaged and here you are spending time with your ex-boyfriend.

But nothing was gonna happen with Frankie. You both hand significant others. You guys were friends… Well sorta. You weren’t sure what to call this relationship.

“You ready?”

You look at him. He was wearing his hat, shirt, jeans, boots, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder. He was also wearing a fisher vest, which made you giggle slightly. Frankie was always a nature boy.

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?” He asks nothing you holding the ring in your hand

“Um, a ring. I found it on the carpet.” You say walking over and handing it to him.

He signs. “I swear she leaves everything everywhere...” he mumbles under his breath, but you couldn’t hear what he said because it was so quiet. He sets the ring on the coffee table.

“Alright let's go,” he says.

…

The lake was peaceful. The water slowly moved. Nothing but sounds of nature. It was calming and relaxing. You and Frankie sat in a small boat out in the middle of the lake. Frankie placed a worm to hook his fishing rod. He stood up, casting his line far out, then sat back down.

You sat there with a fishing rod in your hand patiently for something to bite.

“It’s nice today.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You must love it out here. This is very you.” You chuckle slightly.

“I try to come when I can. They have a camping site, so I’ll come out on a weekend and camp sometimes.”

“Usually I’ll come here to think.”

“Think about what?”

He shrugged, reeling in his line slightly. “It depends. Sometimes I’ll come to think about stuff like what's going on in my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the past.”

Silence fell between the two of you.

“Hey, Frankie…”

“Yeah?”

“The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly? I know that might be asking a lot but-”

“Okay…”

“Really?” You were a bit surprised. I mean he had been honest with you, but only really scratching the surface. You wanted to dig deeper.

“Only if you do the same.”

“Deal.” You smile. “ Did ever come out here to think about me?”

“Plenty of times, Smiles.”

“So, when did you get discharged from the military? I remember you telling Alex you fly cargo?”

“I got discharged a little while after I left. I got my pilot's license suspended for a bit. I managed to get it back and started piloting for a cargo company about 5 years ago.” He reeled him his line, then stood out to cast it again.

“Did you ever get that job you wanted, the one at the magazine company?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good for you. I knew you could do it. I remember you being so nervous when you did your interview.”

You chuckle slightly at the memory. “Yeah, it was such a mess then, but apparently liked me. It’s a great job. It’s funny actually, Alex’s tech company is in the same building. Our mutual friend introduced us to each other. We were friends for a while, then started dating two years ago.”

You were curious about his girlfriend. He never mentioned her. I mean the phone call at Santiagos and the ring at his house, he had to have a girlfriend.

“How about you? How long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“My what? Girlfriend? I don’t-”

“Woah!” You said as you jolted forward your hands gripping your fishing pole. You quickly stand up as the fish keeps tugging aggressively on the end line.

“Reel it in Smiles!”

You pull up on the rod as you quickly cranked the reel handle.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh trying your hardest to reel in the fish.

“Come on, keep going you go!” Frankie cheered you on.

You reeled the last of your line. The fish flew out of the water as you helped the fishing rod up high.

“Alright Smiles!” Frankie laughed as he set his fishing rod into a holder, he stood up quickly and grabbed your line, holding the fish up. You had caught a Bass.

“This one's pretty big!” Frankie grabbed the fish from the bottom of its amount as he unhooked the fish from the line.

“You wanna hold it?” he extends the fish towards you.

“No way! I’m not touching that!” you say moving your body away.

“Come on smiles, you gotta hold a fish you caught!” He says bring the Bass closer to you.

“Frankie! No! Stop!” you protested as you turned away.

“Give your hands,” he says holding his hand out.

“Frankie...”

“Come on, it’s just a fish.”

You sigh holding your hands out. Frankie placed the Bass in your hands. You slightly squeeze its body, making sure you have a grip on the fish. The was Bass was cold, the scales poked the palms of your hands slightly, and it felt slimy.

“See, not so bad!”

The fish began to move, wiggling back and forth in your hand. You let out a yelp, letting out a shriek as you quickly give it back to Frankie.

Frankie busts out laughing as he takes it from your hands.

“That’s not funny!” You shove him as you laughed slightly.

“Stop being such a wimp! It’s just a fish!” He chuckles.

“I told you I didn’t want to hold it!”

“How about you give it a kiss then?” He moves it towards you.

“Stop it! Frankie!”

“It wants a kiss, Smiles, do leave it hanging!” as he tries to get the fish as close to your face as possible.

“Give me a smooch!” he animates his voice, pretending the fish is talking to you.

“NO! Frankie Stop!” You shriek. Frankie gets closer to you, shoving the fish in the face. You reacted by pushing him, Frankie lost his balance and ended up falling over the side of the boat into the lake.

You gasp, your hands flying over your mouth. You kneel on the bench, leaning over the side of the boat.

Frankie’s head pops up out of the water, his Standard Oil Heating hat on his head.

“Frankie are you alright?!”

He takes of his hat, tossing it the boat. He shakes his head, getting so water out and hair out of his eyes, then takes his hands slicking his hair back so he could see.

“Yeah I’m fine, I wasn't expecting to go for a swim though” he laughs as he treads water.

“Here let me help you up” you extend out your hand for him to grab. He takes your hand but you immediately regret it after seeing the mischievous look on his face. You let out a yelp as Frankie yanked you in, flipping over the side of the boat into the water.

Your body hit the water, you come up with the bubbles gasping for air. Frankie is laughing as he treads beside you.

“Now we’re even!”

‘You punk! You did that on purpose! Meanwhile, I accidentally shoved you in!” you slick your hair back out of your face. You splash water in his face.

“Two can play at that game!” he splashes you back.

You swim over to him, placing your hands on his shoulder, then pushing down on him, submerging you both underwater.

Underwater, he grabs a hold of your waist pulling your body close to his. Coming back up you're both laughing, his arms wrap around your body, as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your guys’ laughs subside as you stare at each other. You take your hand moving a piece of Frankie's hair, out of his face and swipe it to the side. Your heart was beating fast, as you both started to lean in for a kiss. Your nose touches, but you learn your head down, pulling always from him. Swimming back to distance yourself from him.

“I-I think you should take me home now…please...” you whispered.

“Okay…” was all he said. You two swam towards the boat. Frankie got back up first, then helped. He turned on the boat and stirred back to the dock.

…

You both were dripping wet, but Frankie managed to pack extra clothes. You changed behind some bushes into a very large and long shirt that went past your knee. Frankie changed into a plain t-shirt and jeans.

After changing in new clothes and packing things up, you guys headed on the road, Frankie driving you home.

It was silent in the car. Neither of you has anything to say. You had an ongoing battle raging inside of you. You couldn’t believe you almost kissed Frankie, but part of you wanted to. You were so confused about how you felt. You needed to go home and truly be alone to think things over.

“I’m sorry-” You both say at the same time.

You both sign.

“I shouldn’t have leaned in like that-”

“It wasn’t just you Frankie...It was me as well. I should have known better.”

“-Nothing happened.”

“But something almost did, Frankie.”

“So what is this? What are we?”

“We’re not anything Frankie”

“Bullshit and you know that! We may not be together anymore, but we’ve got history. We’re connected. Stop denying how you feel” he snaps at you.

“I don't feel anything, Frankie! You don’t know how I’m feeling! I’m getting MARRIED! MARRIED!” you reminded him.

You huffed, your arms crossed against your chest. You wanted to open but the car door and roll out. You both sat in silence for a good 20 minutes, only speaking when you were giving him directions to how to get to your house you were almost home. You both had cooled off from the argument, but the tension was still high in the air.

As you sat in the passage side of the truck, you noticed something. “Who’s this?” You asked, staring at a polaroid picture that was tapped on his dashboard. You only noticed the photo until now.

Frankie closed his eyes for a split second and deeply sighed. He thought about what you said earlier ‘The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly’. He made a deal with you, he had to keep his word. He had to come clean and make things right with you.

You peel the photo off the dash to examine it better. The photo was of a young teenage girl laughing as she smiled. She was outdoors sitting on a log in front of a campfire. Her hands wrapped around a stick with a marshmallow at the end. Behind her, there was a tent pitched up, woods, a lake, and an orange sunset sky that made up the rest of the backdrop.

“That’s my daughter.”

You stopped fidgeting with the photo. You quickly turn your gaze towards him. He didn’t look at you, he stared at the road ahead, his hands placed at the bottom of the steering wheel. You examined the photo some more. This girl had Frankie written all over her. The girl wore his Standard Heating Oil hat and the way her eyes squinted as she laughed was exactly like Frankie.

He didn’t have to tell you because you knew. It clicked. This was it. The answer you’ve been dying to know for years. She was the reason why he left you. Your eyes began to well up with tears. So many thoughts were circling in your head. You were rendered speechless. You had so much you wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. You didn’t know how to feel. You felt overwhelmed.

You kept your eyes on the photo.

“2005, our first break up. When the long-distance wasn’t working when I was stationed halfway across the country.” He began to say. He paused for a moment. “I dated someone for a few months after we broke up, but it didn’t work out with them. A little while after, we got back together. I had no idea she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me. I didn’t find out until she passed away in an accident. I was contacted, they told me I had a 5-year-old daughter and if I wanted to care for her I needed to do a whole bunch of legal stuff to gain sole custody. If I didn't, she would have gone into the foster care system. The night I left you, that’s where I went. I drove across the country to get her.”

You stuck the photo back on the dashboard, then turned to look out the window, watching the tree fly by as he drove down the highway.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

“Lilah...She’s fifteen.”

It was silent in the truck. Frankie said nothing more letting you take in everything.

You sat there thinking about what he told you. You put yourself in his shoes, imagining if you were in his situation at the time.

“I’m not even mad.” You admitted.

“Y-you’re not?”

“I’m more hurt than I am mad, Frankie.” Tears rolled down your face. “I don’t blame you for what you did. You have a daughter and that was your priority. It was important for you to get to know her, take care of her and be her dad.” Your lips began to tremble more tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m just hurt at the fact you didn’t think you could tell me. God, Frankie you should have told me!”

“I was scared! I-I was so scared to tell you! I didn’t know what you were going to think or say! I was afraid you would’ve wanted nothing to do with me after you found out I had a kid with someone else! O-or what if you didn’t want to raise her with me?! It was easier for me to leave you before you did it to me!”

“Frankie, you think I’m THAT terrible of a person? Do you really think I would have walked out on you if you told me? I told you that night, whatever it was, I would have worked it out with you! You had a daughter for crying out loud! Yes, I admit I would have been taken back and shocked, but I would have supported you! I would have raised her and loved her my very own. There's no way I would have turned her away, she half you of you, Frankie.”

“If-If I could go back a-and change things that happened between us, how I ended things-” his voice was shaking, stuttering as he spoke.

“But you can’t Frankie! You can’t change the past! What you did was done, and you’re going to have to live with that! You’re going to have to face the fact I’m getting married! What happened, happened, We just have to let it go...We both have to move on and let each other go”

By the time you said that Frankie pulled up in your driveway, parking his truck. You quickly grab your bag and hop out, closing the door.

“Smiles!” He yelled after you, getting out of his truck, and shutting the door.

You were walking up the walkway when he grabbed your arm. “Smiles-”

“DON’T touch me!” You snapped at him.

“We’re not done talking!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! Leave! Just get out of here!” you cried. You were feeling so many different emotions, you were confused about how you felt, you just wanted him to go so you could be alone. You turn away, walking to your door.

“I love you!” he shouted

Your eyes widen, whipping around quickly. “NO! You don’t get to say that! Not now! What do you want me to say? What the fuck do you expect me to say?! That I love you back?! I can’t! I can’t say that!”

“You can’t or you won’t?! I know deep down in there you love me. I know you do, but you’re afraid to admit it! Too damn scared to admit that you still have feelings for me!

“FRANCISCO MORALES LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND GO HOME!”

Alex came rushing out of the house, hearing you yell. He looked at the both of you. You were a crying mess, your hair damps and wearing a T-shirt. Frankie stood there with a pained and angry look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” Alex had a million questions running through their head but quickly rushed towards you, putting themselves between you and Frankie.

“Baby you alright? You okay?” he asked, cupping your head in their hands.

“Smiles-” Frankie starts walking towards you.

“You need to fucking leave.” Alex turns around, protectively standing in front of you.

Frankie stands there staring at you. Your lips tremble as you avoid his gaze.

“Just go Frankie…” you whispered.

And just like that, he left. Frankie got back in his truck and drove away.

You started to break down, hysterical crying in front of your house. Your chest felt tight as you sobbed. Alex took you into their arms, comforting you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He says rubbing your back. “Let’s go inside.”

tag // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Ash Williams

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Oh the dilemma of the duality of Ashley)

- You met Ash after getting a job at S-Mart. He introduced himself to you the first day you came into work, his kind words bordering on flirtation as he gave you a short pep talk and told you where you could find him if you needed anything.

- Knowing that you had someone there that was willing to help you made you a little less nervous, though knowing that that person was incredibly handsome did give you a whole new set of nerves to worry about.

- Ash is both a flirt and a total dork when it comes to women. On one hand, he can fluster you and be the most amusingly charming man you’ll ever meet. On the other, you make him lose his train of thought and turn him into an adorable nerd.

- Say anything even somewhat flirty and his initial response is to laugh shyly. He’ll then stumble through an answer all the while his words begin to get quieter and fewer and far between as he gets lost in your eyes.

- He sort of bounces back and forth between the two. When you first meet, he has a split moment of shyness before he snaps into his flirty persona. When he starts to really like you, he gets more flustered around you. And when you become friends, he shows more blatant interest in you, only becoming adorably awkward in your presence every once in a while.

- When the two of you are on friendly terms, he makes a habit of taking little breaks to stand in your department and flirt. The shelves that are closest to where you work will always be full due to how many times a day he uses the excuse to go over and see you.

- Having a bad day? Ash notices and will make jokes and faces at you until you smile. Someone bothering you? He’s there to usher them away the minute he sees your distress. Looking good? Rest assured, he’ll tell you.

- He’s honestly the best part of your job and if you confess that little fact to him, he’ll melt into a warm gooey puddle. Clean up on aisle 8.

- So yeah, Ash is completely smitten with you, and you were smitten with him as well; I mean, how couldn't you be? A goofy guy with a metal hand working in houseware, what more could a girl want?

- Ash asked you out while you were both finishing up your shifts. You were pulling on your coat when he walked into the back of the store, smiling at you and asking what you had planned for the night.

- When you replied with “nothing much” he asked if he could take you out for a round of drinks, his treat. Now, how could a girl refuse an offer like that?

- So the two of you found yourselves in a decent bar close to where you worked, sitting on your respective stools and getting comfortable in each others presence. He was stripped of his work uniform and you couldn’t help but notice how much better he looked in normal clothes.

- Without the supervision of your boss, you were finally able to have a long, uncensored conversation. You’d decided pretty early in night that you liked this Ash; raunchy, funny, and sweet all at the same time. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell he liked you too.

- The two of you have your first kiss on your second date. I don’t think Ash would be capable of waiting any longer with the way that you look and the way that you look at him. He sees the goo goo eyes that you give him and whew boy does he want to make you his.

- That’s exactly the reason why he kisses you. You’re sitting there with that lovey dovey look on your face, looking at him like he’s your entire world and the very thought that you can love him so much is too much for him to deal with.

- He grabs your face and slams your lips to his, stealing your breath away and drowning you in passion. It really only lasts for a moment, but god, what a moment it was.

- When he’s had his quick fill, he pulls away and blows out a “whew” before apologizing and picking up right where he left off like nothing had happened. You’re left sitting there in a daze and when he notices how distracted you are, he can’t help but feel smug.

- It’s safe to say that after that, neither of you were planning on running off anytime soon.

- He’s big on Pda, or rather, he’s big on anything that lets him touch you as much as possible. He’s the type of guy who has no problem making out with you in front of people.

- Ash will cling to you if you let him. He’s a very touchy person so expect his hands to never leave your body or; at the very least, struggle to stay off of you.

- He has this …how do I put this? Undying love for you. He’s the charming dumbass who drinks his respecting women juice and is absolutely smitten with you.

- He can never just have one kiss, they always lead to more and more until he’s successfully managed to pull you into his lap and/or distract you from what you were doing.

- Being dipped into kisses. He likes catching you off guard and feeling you grab hold of his shirt or quickly wrap your arms around his neck, he thinks it’s cute. …He also thinks it’s cute when the light shines down on your face perfectly and makes you look like an angel but you don’t need to know that.

- Bridal carrying. Think he can’t lift you? Ha! Good one! He’ll carry you around the entire house just to prove that he can and get you to stop worrying. Regardless though, he likes doing it because it makes him feel all macho; and like you’re his wife.

- Cheek kisses. He tilts his face so that you can give him a perfect one and loops his arm around your neck whenever he wants to give you one so that he can pull you close and; for lack of a better term, aggressively smush his lips to your face.

- Inside jokes. He likes that the two of you can have your own little thing that no one else understands. He also likes how he can make you laugh that beautiful laugh of yours with just one word.

- Dancing together.

- Nicknames? Are you kidding? Ashley's called you every nickname in the book and then some! You keep thinking he’s gonna run out of them and yet he never does, they just keep coming.

- Getting called groovy. Don’t you just want to kiss his big, dumb, stupid face every time he says it?

- Little gifts. He gets a little nervous every time he gives you something, his heart racing while he awaits your reaction. He’d love seeing you wearing it or placing it somewhere in full view; it makes his heart swell with pride.

- Handholding. Every once and a while, he’ll absentmindedly place a quick kiss on or run his thumb along your knuckles.

- He finds comfort in taking care of you. He’ll look after you when you’re sick or injured or pull the covers over you better when he finds you asleep, pressing a gentle kiss to your face.

- Bandaging him up and kissing his scars. Fair warning though: if you kiss his scars he may just pull you into a hard kiss and not let you go.

- As much as he thinks his metal hand is badass, he’s still sort of insecure about it. He’ll never let you know that but you’ll still most likely be able to tell so you make sure to show him how much you like it.

- Comforting him when he wakes up from a particularly bad nightmare. If they aren’t terrible, he’ll just wake up with a start, take a few deep breaths and snuggle closer to you, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

- He loves being the big spoon when you cuddle but he’s also shameless about the fact that he loves when you cuddle him, babying him while he buries his face into some part of you.

- Staying up and listening to storms together.

- Getting to hear all of his wild stories. He never minds bragging to you.

- He can MacGyver shit like no other. The way he fixes things may not be the most orthodox but you can’t say that they don’t get the job done.

- Greasy fast food dates.

- Getting drunk together or smoking a little devils grass. He finds our drunken giggles adorable.

- Making faces at each other.

- Cute comments and pick up lines. He likes making you smile.

- Constant compliments. You need to know how good you look baby!

- You should see the absolute adoration on his face when he watches you get dressed in the morning. His eyes are still half lidded but he’s got this big dopey smile on his face.

- The first time he took his shirt off in front of you was a magical experience. You were used to his baggy uniform or regular old button ups, you were not expecting all the muscle.

- Getting taught how to shoot his boomstick.

- He likes to pull you into his side with one hand …then slide his hand down a little further so that he can grab your rear. He’s an ass guy; expect a lot of grabbing, pinching and groping.

- He likes teasing you. He’s a little shit and he knows it but half the time he’ll act all; unconvincingly, innocent. You can’t stay mad at him though, not when he gives you that smile of his.

- Makeout sessions.

- He will quite literally ask you for kisses if he wants them.

“Give me some sugar, baby.”

- Listen, Ash is a horny boy so whenever you’re ready and willing, he’s down for a little action.

- You’re completely comfortable with each other, like you really have no secrets between each other and nothing really phases either of you at this point. You never have to be embarrassed around him.

- You should get used to seeing him covered in blood because it’s gonna happen a lot.

- He can get really hostile when he’s jealous, this can range from vicious glares to literal punches being thrown. You’re his girl and he doesn’t want anybody trying to get between the two of you or letting their eyes wander all over you.

- He always jumps to your defense when people are messing with you. He used to be a big brother so he still has that overprotective instinct.

- He always tries to comfort you when you get frightened, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your face in his chest or taking your hand when you go to grab onto him. Sometimes he’ll remain serious but other times he’ll crack a joke, telling you not to worry and that he’ll protect in an exaggerated voice.

- He gets upset when you’re upset; he just can’t stand seeing you sad or all worked up for all the wrong reasons.

- The two of you can certainly get into a heated argument, but they’re solved just as quickly and oftentimes just as heated. He’ll raise his voice out of anger and frustration but he’ll never yell at you or call you names.

- When he’s in the wrong, he’ll apologize and ask if you can forgive “this jerk” with a shy little smile on his face. Makeup sex/pent up frustration sex is also a very crucial part of your relationship and one that he enjoys very much.

- Does he say I love you? The more relevant question would be: does he ever stop saying I love you?

- He thinks about marrying you all the time. Like I said, he’s completely in love with you and he’s not at all shy about it. He’d definitely have no shame in confessing that he wants you to be his wife when the two of you are ready.

#ash williams imagine #ash williams headcanons #ash williams headcanon #ash williams x reader #evil dead imagine #evil dead headcanons #evil dead headcanon #evil dead imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

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narukoibito · 3 years

Note

St. Mungos, since feeling is first who pays attention and Muggle FWB for the WIP Game?

Thank you for the interest, Anon! This took a while because things in my personal life are in chaos, but thank you for the request.

St. Mungos

This is my Healer!Ginny story that has been lurking in the back of my brain since last year. I’ve written a good amount of words, but then an entirely different plot appeared and now I may have to rewrite most of it, hence it’s lack of progress. But I still really want to finish this one day.

Ginny is a Healer on the 4th floor of St. Mungos. Her first patient is someone named Harry Evans. (This is a Harry never to Hogwarts story.)

The first thing Ginny notices is his eyes. They’re the most vivid, bright green that she’s ever seen. It’s unnerving how unseeing they are. A pressure builds up in her chest, an aching pain and nostalgia she can’t place.

The morning light from the window washes over his face, dancing off these round wire-rimmed glasses. His dark hair (black like a blackboard) appears to be on some ineffable scale of entropy — tousled and pointed in every which way, yet somehow it’s charming and works well with his sharp, unconventional features. Some of that hair spills over a bandage wrapped around his forehead.

But it’s also the pleasant, vacancy in those eyes that strikes her, like she’s looking at the embers of a once bright flame. He looks like an innocent, half-lost child, his lips curled in a ghost of a smile.

Her clipboard and supervisor tell her his name is Harry Evans. The name creates an itch at the back of her head, something she wants to scratch at, but the odd sense of nostalgia must be misplaced significance. He’s her first real patient.

He must matter to someone important to have his own room on the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s Ward 49. Usually they lumped all the long-term spell damaged patients in one place, let them wander under the supervision of one Healer. But this room is spacious and private, protected by complicated wards and concealing charms. Someone really cares about Harry Evans, and for some reason it causes a subtle burning behind her eyes. Maybe it’s because he looks like a newborn fawn.

Who wouldn’t want to protect him?

“You’re new, but he’s not difficult. It’s mostly maintenance,” her supervisor says. “He makes it easy, don’t you, Harry?”

Harry’s gaze drifts toward the window.

Ginny scans his file. It’s actually surprisingly thick, but a lot of it has been redacted. The summary page sums it up though: he’s twenty-one; he has been here for three years; the diagnosis is vague (severe curse damage); there’s a long slew of attempted cures, none of which were successful obviously; now it’s about making sure he’s comfortable whatever that means.

“All right, let me know if run into any trouble.” Her supervisor is already starting for the door.

“Um — what about — I know his treatment is maintenance, but can I…?” Ginny’s not sure what she’s trying to say exactly. Harry Evans has seen a lot of Healers if the list of attempted cures is any indication, but she gave up Quidditch to become a Healer in the long-term spell damage ward specifically because she wanted to do something.

Her supervisor gives her a rueful smile.

“Stick to maintenance. Harry Evans is a special case.”

Ginny turns back to Harry, who is facing her again, looking painfully innocent.

Somehow she doesn’t need convincing that he’s special.

since feeling is first who pays attention

This was a gift for the Harry/Ginny Discord Incognito Elf exchange. I managed to finish in time to gift it, but I want to take some additional time to rework it before posting. It is missed moments over the years as Ginny and her feelings for Harry evolve.

Ginny presses her face against the wall, peeking between the stair spindles. Her bright brown eye lands on the two boys hunched over a chessboard. Her brother Ron and Harry Potter, who, despite appearing to be losing, doesn’t look the least upset.

Harry Potter.

The Harry Potter is in her house. Looking comfortable on their couch despite the faded, mended cushions. His face crinkles in laughter at something Ron says, his green eyes bright with contentment. Ginny doesn’t miss the occasional look of awe at the things she’s always taken for granted. It’s almost as if he can’t believe he is really here.

He isn’t what she expected – isn’t what she imagined he would look like after all those years listening to Mum recite her favorite bedside story, about the heroic Savior of the Wizarding World. She had pictured neat hair, a dashing smile, someone who would recognize a comrade in her and take her on all sorts of adventures. He would be different, he wouldn’t discount her dreams of flying and doing everything her brothers could and more.

Instead, Harry Potter has the messiest hair ever, a sheepish smile, and clothes that he nearly swims in. Oh, and he has somehow missed the memo and found the comrade in her brother Ron instead.

Her fingers curl around the spindle. Not for the first time, a spike of envy shoots through her. If only she were a little older or a boy. Then maybe she would be the one playing chess with Harry. Maybe she would be the one to hide under his invisibility cloak and battle trolls and face You-Know-Who with him.

Ginny presses her face a little closer and lets out a sigh.

But Harry Potter is kind. He ignores all the times she has made a fool of herself. And he has the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. They are as green as those glowing jars of pickled toads at the Potion ingredients store Mum had taken her to. Pretty and kind and not dismissive of her patched clothes or her glowing red face.

Harry Potter. If he likes Ron, if he looks like he actually likes the Burrow, if his face grimaces at the attention at Flourish and Blotts, could it be possible that one day he could like her too?

Muggle FWB

Hah, so this was the first idea that I rambled off to my beta, which ended up with long, long emails back and forth on this idea that I never wrote! Here’s a snippet of that exchange:

Harry thinks he only see Ginny as a little sister, so when she suddenly proposes that they become friends with benefits in uni, he’s floored and says they’re practically family. Blinded by her anger over the rejection, she kisses him so that he knows what he’ll be missing. Of course, he then realizes his attraction to her. As their physical relationship progresses, they develop feeeeeeelings (gasp!). But Ginny thinks she only wants a physical relationship and once they have sex, it'll get out of her system. Harry has to work to convince her that she actually wants more.

But the backdrop is that Ginny doesn't think she wants more than sex is that when she was 11, she was kidnapped by Tom Riddle for as a kid (they met at the park a lot, and none of her brothers/Harry/anyone realized he'd been "befriending" her). Kid Harry figures out where Riddle took her and saves her.

Ginny wasn’t molested but she/Harry/everyone else is deeply affected by this event even though they don't realize it. Ginny thinks she's overcome it, and she's still a BAMF some the books but she's not fully over it as shown by her fear of being emotionally involved with Harry. It's why Harry refuses for a long time to think of her anything else outside of a brotherly way.

Ginny has a really bad sexual experience (though it doesn't go all the way), and as a result she's disgusted by men (not scared), but doesn't feel any revulsion with Harry. After not being able to get close to any boy for a long time, she decides to proposition Harry. Harry, being noble, absolutely refuses at first, but she kisses him, he's very attracted to her, and is convinced by her that he's helping her get over this tick. So it's FWB but it fits their personalities, and still stays true to the Ginny is subconsciously afraid of a real relationship/intimacy with Harry, who realizes he wants more but doesn't know if just getting to be physical is more than he'll ever deserve and he wants what he can get if not real love from her - until, of course, he realizes he can't do it anymore and she has to decide if she's brave enough to actually let herself feel.

HAHA omg I’m reading over my emails and I talk about getting into The Changeling and only sleeping 4/5 hrs a night and then the exchange ends with my coming up with my alternate dimension idea of Harry getting thrown into the BWL!Neville universe. So you guys can see why this story never went anywhere despite several thousands words between me and my beta.

–

Whew, long post. Hope that satisfied your curiosity!

I’m honestly not sure there are any left, but let me know if you have any other wip asks! Though note that I will be rather absent in the near-future because of life.

#wip title game #anonymous #healer!ginny story #st. mungos #since feeling is first who pays attention #muggle au fwb #languishing wips #i'm not gone for good but will be gone for a little while #just popping my head in now and again #because life #hinny #harry/ginny

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cherry-toxic · 3 years

Text

Fic writer questions!

I was tagged by @introvertia - thank you so much :) Your answers were really interesting!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 8

What's your total AO3 wordcount?

141754

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Four: Beyblade (gen fics mostly), Shizaya (Durarara), Grimmichi (Bleach), and Harringrove (Stranger Things).

I usually sit in a fandom for a quite a while before I actually start writing anything. I'm amazed by those people who can get stuck in right away (how do you do it!?!)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. end the fight; before the fight ends you

2. Bound to Happen

3. Year of You

4. Broken Boys and Butterflies

5. So come take a drink (And drown your sorrows)

All Harringrove aside from 'Bound to Happen' - which I'm rather surprised came in second because the Grimmichi fandom is waaaaay smaller than the Harringrove fandom.

'end the fight...' is also the only wip here. The rest are completed one-shots.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes and no. It depends. I want to respond because comments really do mean a lot to me and I love rambling with people, but I have issues with online communication. Like, sometimes I write out a response and when I read it back to myself my brain just goes 'no that's terrible you sound like an idiot delete it now' and then I go 'yessir you're completely right how silly of me.'

When it comes to wips, I tend to reply to every comment when I'm getting ready to post the next chapter, that way it's like a little heads-up - new stuff incoming soon!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Y'know as much as I love angst I actually prefer to have my fics end on a relatively positive note (angst with a happy ending is my shit).

But I suppose 'So come take a drink (And drown your sorrows)' is overall pretty angsty and I left the ending open so if I ever felt like continuing it I could do so easily.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've ever written?

Big nah. Kind of like AU fics, they just don't interest me that much.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, but it came from someone who was just making the rounds on a bunch of Harringrove fics and they were highly suspected to be an anti so it didn't really bother me that much because I knew they were trolling.

I've had a few like, vague comments/back-handed compliments that got under my skin a bit though.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes, occasionally I do. Generally I'd say I'm pretty vanilla, but I am currently writing an a/b/o fic, though I think it might go under non-traditional a/b/o because, again, vanilla lol

My smut usually comes with a lot of introspection, like they'll be doing the deed and one of them will be internally streaming a 5000+ word monologue (I do this with Grimmjow sometimes because he's a big virgin who views sex as silly human nonsense).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Parts of a fic, yes. I came across this fic that was clearly plagiarizing from several different authors (they forgot to change the characters names and everything) and I found entire paragraphs that were copy/pasted straight from one of my fics.

The thing is, this was over 10 years ago, something I wrote when I was... seventeen, maybe? So... I don't get why they copied it because it was pretty bad to be honest...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, an old one called '10 Miles in Your Shoes' (beyblade) although it was never completed because well, firstly, I never completed the original, and secondly, when the translator asked me how long I was planning on it being I said around 20-30k and uhhh... lets just say I overshot that by a mile!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. While I think it would be interesting to try I honestly don't know if I could give up control like that!

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hard to say because I tend to go for characters over ships. Like, I got into Grimmichi because of Grimmjow and Harringrove because of Billy.

But since Grimmjow is my all-time favourite character then, I guess Grimmichi, but Harringrove is definitely a close second because the fandom has spoiled me rotten with all their amazing fics (in terms of reading material, Harringrove is my fav).

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

'10 Miles in Your Shoes' - the bodyswap fic.

It's been a long time since I engaged with anything related to beyblade but I have a lot of fondness for this fic because it was the second I ever started writing and it was the fic that allowed me to truly grow as a writer. There's a huge improvement from the first to the most recent chapter (most recent being 5 years ago...) to the point where it looks like it could have been written by two different people, and I received so much positive feedback and encouragement throughout those years. I wish I had it in me to go back and finish it off but I struggle enough while writing for my current obsessions so it's looking more and more unlikely...

At the very least, I think I might transfer it to AO3 since ff.net seems to be slowly going under. Even if I never complete it, I don't want it lost forever.

What are your writing strengths?

This might sound ridiculous but I don't know? I always feel like I'm winging everything!!

I guess. One thing I've been complimented on a lot is my ability to portray messy (for lack of a better word) situations in a realistic way. I've been asked a few times if I've ever studied psychology and -

Nope

Just winging it!

What are your writing weakness?

EDITING!!!

I really should get a beta because I miss so many stupid little mistakes, like - okay - I always used to write in past tense, it was never something I even thought about, past tense was just the default. And then suddenly, around 2017/18, I began transitioning to present tense completely unconsciously and now every time I re-read 'Bound to Happen' I get angry because I bounced between tenses all the way through that fic and I didn't even notice until a year after I posted it.

Also. Incredibly slow. Lack of consistency. Perfectionist until I get stuck and then I feel like you can spot exactly where I lost momentum. Utterly hopeless when it comes to descriptions of setting/scenery. I don't think I'm very good at building atmosphere either. Dialogue, although I am improving at that.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I can't say I really have any thoughts on this? I don't do it much myself.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Beeeeyblaaade! I was fifteen when I wrote my very first fic (now deleted because it was awful!)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh god, this is hard!

If we're talking completed fics only, then probably 'Year of You'. That was my I-Do-Not-Accept-Billy's-Death fic but I WILL take all of the angst material from S3 and ride it hard.

If we're including wips, then both 'end the fight...' and 'metamorphosis' are probably my favourites right now.

'End the fight...' is my BIG Billy redemption fic which I started plotting out not long after S2 and there's so many scenes I'm looking forward to writing (yeah I know its been a while since i last updated but the past year has been rough okay)

'Metamorphosis' is the a/b/o fic which I was kind of nervous about at first because its not a trope that i read a lot of but i'm enjoying how its turning out so far!

Whew! That was a lot!

I'm tagging: firstly, whoever wants to do it because I like reading about peoples writing experiences (make sure to tag me!) And then: @shadowthorne @bentnotbroken1fanfiction @callieb @backwardshirt @memes-saved-me @murderlight @magniloquent-raven @aeon-of-neon @louhetar

#tag game #fanfiction #my fics #grimmichi #harringrove

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94monkeys · 3 years

Text

November, December and January were the worst months of my life that started out as the best months of my life. I am better, but I’m still not okay.

CW: death (not mine), medical stuff (no gore), emergency room experience

The first week of November was the election we’d been building up to, frankly, 4 years. I was basically eating, sleeping, breathing work from mid-August until the election, and then for several days after until we got the result that we wanted.

The second week in November, I found out I was pregnant. We were shocked and thrilled. (It was intentional but it was still, like, surprising that it actually worked???)

Turn back now because it only gets worse from here.

The third week in November, I find out I’m getting laid off. I was given a lot of reasons, none of which made sense, but basically a casualty of office politics way over my head. I was told that it wasn’t performance related, but it still felt brutal to have to do this after pouring myself into work. I’ve been laid off before, and it’s always a cold experience. You remember that your company only cares about you to a degree, and at the end of the day, they will always protect themselves and not you. I personally don’t understand why you would replace a professional with two part-time dilettantes on your public facing communications BUT ANYWAY!

I was asked to stay through the beginning of January and I accepted.

The fourth week in November was Thanksgiving. We were home about to make dinner for 2 (COVID). During the day, I started to feel sick and crampy. I called the urgent care nurse line and they told me to go to the ER. I live very close to a hospital, so I literally packed my biggest warmest sweatshirt and a book and walked there, leaving my spouse and the turkey still in the oven (luckily that was his purview anyway).

The ER was, surprisingly, very quiet. I was there for about 4 hours while they ran various tests on me. (They had to call a specialist in from their Thanksgiving dinner, which I felt terrible about.) Ultimately, they could not determine whether I had miscarried or not, so they sent me home with instructions to take it easy and to go in for more testing.

In December I had a doctor’s appointment where they confirmed that I was not pregnant any more. (The tech was very cold and impersonal… I was crying on the ultrasound table. I know that it was so early, but I was crying for myself and my spouse and the dreams we had invested that never came to be. I was sad because this was our first time, and it was so terrible, and we won’t ever have a first one.)

They flagged something in my blood tests that was troubling, so they ordered regular testing. I was going in about 3 times a week for blood draws. Luckily I’m not scared of needles so it was more annoying than anything.

I was also applying to and interviewing for jobs (without success) and also still working at my job where I felt literally invisible. It was a really dark time. I don’t know how else to describe it. I don’t know how I got out of bed every day. It felt like everything in my life had just collapsed at once. I didn’t feel unwell, but it was just like a big weight dragging me down all the time.

In the 3rd week of December, I had another ultrasound and then met with a new to me doctor, I’ll call her Dr. S. I had been going along with all the additional bloodwork, but I was starting to push back on why it was necessary.

It was a Friday afternoon when Dr. S met with me and said: We think that you have an ectopic pregnancy. I didn’t know, but I would soon learn that this was a pregnancy that was not in the right place, would not grow, but could rupture and kill me. She recommended surgery to address it.

Okay, I said. I had the next week off, so I assumed it would be either that week, or in January while I was funemployed (but still had my good health insurance).

I was thinking this weekend, said Dr. S.

So it was that I went to a Friday doctor’s appointment and found myself signing into surgery on Saturday morning.

It was my first ever surgery with anesthesia, and everyone took great care of me, but it was still EXTREMELY disconcerting. I had laparoscopic surgery so I only have 2 teeny scars, but I was in a lot of pain and confused when I woke up.

Work was closed all week, so I basically spent the whole week sitting in 1 chair in my apartment either watching movies or reading. I didn’t want to get into all the details with people, because a) 2020 was already so… 2020, b) I was still nominally job-hunting and I didn’t want to give anyone a dumb surface reason not to hire me or make them think I was a pregnancy flight risk (I love being a woman of a certain age!), c) I just didn’t want to talk about it. On the other hand, almost no one at work checked on me. I found their treatment very cold, again.

In January I put myself together for my last week at work, we had the runoff elections, we had the coup. I had my surgery follow-up where it was confirmed that it was an ectopic pregnancy. That was my January: medical follow-ups, but at least I don’t have to schedule them around the job I no longer have!

WHEW. If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for hearing me. I have since gotten a new job working on communications for politics, but also nonprofits and city agencies. My stress has been cut by probably 70 percent. In my job I’m doing a lot more writing, which is probably what enabled me to write this long overdue update with most of everything in it.

We are starting to explore our fertility options. I had a doctor that really catastrophized me in terms of how intense we need to go about it, but likely we will start slowly and see how it goes. They still don’t know why I had an ectopic (and probably won’t figure out), but I am at higher risk of having another one, so any potential pregnancy will involve a lot of testing and monitoring. That’s why we haven’t “started” “trying” again, because there are tests and there is my new job and so on. I had a hysterosalpingogram, which you should definitely Google if you’re not squeamish. (It didn’t hurt but it was totally weird!)

I am better, but I’m not OK. I’m still mad about everything that happened to me. There are moments when I get catapulted back to my surgery and everything, and I completely freeze. I just got my doctors’ records from November and December (which I had to pay $35 for!!! MY OWN RECORDS) and even though I didn’t learn anything new from reading those records, I still had a lot of emotional trouble processing what happened. It’s weird that so many of them start by noting that the patient was “not in acute distress.” Must be an automatic fill-in because that doesn’t match what I was feeling ever!!!

Dr. S literally saved my life and I think what was not clear to me at the time, because I was still mourning what could have been, is that I am still here. I am more than everything that happened to me.

I am looking for a new therapist and I am trying to look on the bright side. Unfortunately, one of my oldest friends in the world endured a similar health issue back in January; fortunately, we are each other’s best comfort because I know she won’t judge me. This summer may bring good news on this front or maybe not, but at least vaccinated we can do more than we have been able to do (picnics in the park! Visits to family!) I have to believe my luck is turning. It’s how I get by.

#very long life update #you know it's good if there's a cut #cw: death #cw: depression #cw: medical

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Dirty Little Secret

MASTERLIST

New fic time! This was heavily inspired by the interrogation scene from Date Night and Cat in general, except in this world Cat Adams and the network of hit men from the show doesn’t exist. The reader is just like a Cat Adams though and obviously she’s a bit more of a downplayed villain than Cat, but it’s the same kind of idea. You guys will understand when you start reading. Enjoy all the Spencer feels you will probably get from this because I sure got enough just from writing this.

Special thank you to @multifandommandy as well for inspiration and ideas that I used in this :)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (Smut)

Word Count: 3,341

Your hands were behind your back, handcuffed together. A strong hand gripped the top of your arm as the elevator ascended the floors of the FBI headquarters in Quantico.

A normal person would’ve been scared out of their mind at this point.

You?

Well, you were different than most people.

The elevator dinged, coming to an abrupt stop, announcing the arrival of your designated floor.

The crystal clear metal doors slid open, revealing a small group of people standing in the hallway. Clearly, they were expecting your arrival. You didn’t expect anything less.

The agent who’d brought you in stepped forward out of the elevator with you, the grip on his hand not easing any.

“Take it easy, Grandpa, I bruise easily.”

You shot the gray haired agent a withering glare before returning your gaze to the group of people. The majority of them looked at you with contempt, but you noticed something peculiar in the look of the agent who’d initially arrested you.

Interesting, you thought.

His lips were pursed as his gaze flickered down your frame before flitting up to your face again. He pressed his lips together before pulling them inward, his eyes quickly darting away.

Well that could definitely come in handy.

•

You sighed impatiently as you were seated in the interrogation room, your handcuffs being unfastened. It was a small victory as the chains clasped around your waist and ankles were cuffed to a metal bar of the table.

“Is this really necessary?” you scoffed, “It’s not like I’m here to do bodily harm to any of you.”

“You killed four men, Y/N,” Agent Grandpa said, “You really think we’re going to let you parade around here like we invited you here to have brunch?”

“Brunch sounds good,” you tilted your head, “I could go for some bacon.”

He ignored your comment and kept staring at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“I only killed them ‘cause it was part of my contract. No big deal.”

You had been a new addition to a group of assassins that operated through the dark web. It was a small organization, but it was still a hidden one. Law enforcement wasn’t even aware of the group’s existence until just recently.

There were several different assassins in the group, most of which you’d met. Each had their own specialty and their own clientele. There was one who had a knack for poison, another who was more hands on with their kills—strangulation seemed to be their kink, another that was nicknamed “The Framer”. He could make any of his hits look like someone else did it, usually a close friend or family member. He was one who really believed in his research.

Your speciality was infidelity and abuse, mainly abuse. You were surprised how many women turned to a hit man to kill their abusive husband instead of law enforcement. One of your kills had been a jaded wife of a politician who was tired of dealing with her husband’s plethora of affairs.

So basically, your speciality was assholes who deserved to die.

“You’re aware that murder is still a crime, right?”

You tapped your fingers on the table.

“I thought we were here to interview me for more information on the group? Not to talk about me.”

“Okay, so talk.”

“Nuh-uh. I’d like to talk to Dr. Reid,” you smirked.

He raised one of his thick eyebrows at you, but didn’t say anything in response. He stood for a moment before turning and leaving the room, the door closing behind him.

Now the fun could really begin.

•

You were examining your nails when the door opened again and with it came Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I heard you’d only talk to me. Why?”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his navy suit pants. He stood in front of the table, looking down at you.

“Why don’t you sit down? Make yourself comfortable. It might be a while,” you grinned slyly, tapping your temple with your finger, “You know. Lots of information up here in the noggin to share.”

He pulled out the chair, sitting down in it.

“I’ve got a secret for you,” you said.

“Oh? I have a secret for you too. You’re going away for possibly 25 years to life unless you help us with this case.”

“Isn’t that why I’m here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m here to help, but I’d like to do it on my terms.”

You rested your chin in your hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah? What are your terms?”

“One, for every few questions you ask I get to ask a question of my own.”

“Why would you-”

You held up a hand, stopping him.

“Ah, I’m not done. Two, you take these chains off me. I’m not gonna hurt you or any of the federal agents I’m sure that are watching. Besides, I’m getting a cramp.”

He watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“Three. If I give you everything you need, you’ll have my sentence reduced to ten years, not fifteen.”

“Give me a minute.”

He stood, heading to the door.

“Yes, go confer with the other six little ducklings. I’ll just be waiting here,” you called.

It could’ve been half an hour later, you had no idea, but he finally returned. A thick file was in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. It wasn’t until he came towards your side that you noticed he had the key to your prison chains in his hand.

He bent down at your side, unlocking your restraints. You bit your lip gently, watching him. When he looked up, his face wasn’t far from yours.

“Thank you.” Your voice was a breathy whisper and he quickly cleared his throat, standing back up.

“Whew, I thought I was never going to get blood flowing back into my leg,” you said, stretching it out and wiggling it.

He returned to his seat in front of you, opening the file. You turned in your seat to face him.

“Then again I bet you know all about blood flowing to certain areas.”

It was no surprise when he disregarded your comment and started asking questions.

“I’ll go easy on you to start with, how many assassins were in the group?”

“What a shame,” you tutted, “I’d rather you be rough with me.”

“If you’re just here to waste my time, then we can call this whole thing off,” Spencer threatened.

You studied him for a moment.

“Eight,” you finally answered, “That I know of.”

“And you met them all?”

“Those eight, yes.”

“What did they specialize in?”

You yawned, already bored with this tedious process.

You chewed on your lip, pretending to be in deep thought before counting off a few on your fingers.

“Number six did her own thing, but she dealt mainly with drugs. Seven liked to choke and we aren’t talking about some good BDSM play either.”

You smirked as a flush spread across the good doctor’s cheeks. He was so easy to read.

“Eight liked poison. I don’t know their clientele.”

“So what-”

You cut him off yet again.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question now.”

He sat back in the chair, crossing his arms, clearly amused.

“Go ahead.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” you asked casually.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this.”

“Hmm,” you let it slide without an answer, “I’m sure it will before this interview is over.”

“So when did you join the group, Y/N?”

“A few months ago, around the end of January.”

“You killed a politician and three average husbands. We found out that Johnny Perez and Thomas Mitchell were abusive to their wives. Benjamin Wood abused both his wife and his daughter. Senator Nathan Pearson had many mistresses and affairs. Is that why you killed them?”

“Wouldn’t you?” you shot back.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine,” you retorted, smirking.

He decided to switch tactics.

“Did any of the others ever work together?”

“Not that I know of.”

You crossed your legs, leaning closer to him across the table.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” you questioned.

He looked up from the note he was writing, looking baffled.

“No, why?”

You hummed, “Explains a lot.”

“Is there a spot where they meet often? Somewhere we can catch the rest of them?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not exactly like we met at McDonalds for chicken nuggets and board meetings.”

You twirled a lock of your hair around your finger, watching him closely. He glared at you, his patience growing thin.

“Was there or not? I’m not here to play games.”

“Oh honey, you already are,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said if there was, it was probably far,” you lied, “You know far away. They could get paranoid.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you were recruited, didn’t you?”

You sat back in your chair, licking your lips and smiled devilishly at him.

“Yes, Doctor,” you purred.

You could see him tense, his jaw tightening as if he was clenching his teeth.

“Are you always this tense?”

He circled back to you, focusing his questions on you.

“Why did you kill those men, Y/N?”

“Assholes like that don’t deserve to live.”

You weren’t going to deny that you did it because you had and you would again, but you weren’t going to hand them any ammunition to use against you. Being mysterious was the name of your game.

“So you were a vigilante assassin? Hired to make things right?” Spencer questioned, eyes following you as you stood from your chair.

You strolled around the table, fingers trailing along the tabletop.

“People like that deserve the bad things that happen to them, like those men. Imagine if you could right the world, one step at a time.”

“I already do that. I catch serial killers everyday. Killers like you,” he responded.

“See, I’m not like most people,” your hand rested on his shoulder, sliding ever so slightly across it.

“I don’t enjoy killing. I don’t get pleasure from it.”

“Don’t you?”

He’d gone rigid under your touch. Your fingertips grazed across his back as you leaned down and over his shoulder from behind him. Your hand slid down the front of his dress shirt, across his chest.

“I get pleasure from other things, Spencer,” you whispered lowly in his ear.

You pulled back, returning to your seat, but you didn’t miss the small shiver he’d tried to repress.

“I’m not answering any more questions until you answer some of mine.”

You crossed your arms on the table, leaning forward on them.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because of that secret I mentioned earlier. Remember that? I know you better than you think I do, Doctor.”

Your voice dripped with seduction and you knew it was getting to him. You could see just how much you were getting under his skin and frankly, it pleased you greatly.

“Is that so?”

He cocked his head, challenging you, trying to call your bluff.

But you weren’t bluffing.

“I’m good at reading men and their signals. I mean,” you shrugged with one shoulder, “A girl has to be in this line of work.”

“Uh huh,” he goaded you.

“I know your dirty little secret,” you faux whispered, leaning closer towards him.

His face hardened in an attempt to not give any of his true emotions away.

“And what would that be?”

“I know you fantasize about me, Dr. Reid.”

Your words hit a nerve. Even though his face showed no change in expression, the slight widening of his eyes gave him away. If you weren’t so good at analyzing, you probably would’ve missed the small movement all together.

“You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but I didn’t think you were delusional.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you chuckled dryly, “I’m not answering any more questions until you admit you’ve had dirty thoughts about me.”

“Then we’ll be here for a long time.”

“Spencer, please. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’m good at telling when a man is attracted towards a woman. Tell me,” you smirked, scraping your teeth across your bottom lip, “Do you touch yourself while having those thoughts of me?”

He stood, gathering the file haphazardly.

“If you’re just going to waste the FBI’s time, then this interview is over.”

“What, is your ego bruised because I don’t get off to you? Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself. They’re pretty sexy, if I do say so myself, but nothing beats the real thing,” your eyes moved up his body, “If you know what I mean.”

He was out the door mere seconds after your last word was spoken.

You had him just where you wanted him.

•

“What is she on about?”

Thankfully the observing audience had dwindled down to just Rossi, but Spencer brushed past him, shaking his head.

“Ignore her. She’s full of it.”

He dropped the file on the first desk he saw, walking out the door into the hallway.

He knew he had to get out of there quickly because the room was suddenly way too warm. He was angry. Angry and unfortunately aroused.

He practically ran into the first available empty room, closing the door behind him. He only needed a few minutes to clear his head before he finished this interview. He leaned against the closed door, stomach rolling in his desire. He swore, the tightening in his pants that much more visible. He knew the moment he felt the tingling in the pit of his stomach that he had to make a quick escape.

Y/N’s words rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself.

They’re pretty sexy if I do say so myself.

The thought of her getting off to him did nothing to help his erection and he groaned. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and was palming the bulge, making him whimper slightly.

“Fuck it.”

•

The door swung open to the interrogation room with a bang causing you to jump.

“I got rid of the other agents, so it’s just you and me now, no one watching.”

You raised your eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did you know?” Spencer practically growled.

“Know what?”

He yanked you up roughly by your arm, making you stand to face him.

“How did you know that all I want to do is slam you against this wall and fuck you as hard as I can?”

Your mouth went dry, all bravado you’d had before suddenly missing. Heat pooled in your stomach. If you could tear off your clothes right now and let him have his way with you, you would.

He didn’t let you answer because he did just as he said he wanted to.

Your back hit the wall roughly, his lips meeting yours haphazardly. His kisses were wild and filled with all the frustration he held against you, emotionally and sexually.

His hands were that much larger against your hips, pulling them closer to him so you could feel his arousal against you. You moaned into the kiss in response.

His fingers threaded in your hair, gripping it, his tongue swirling with yours. He pulled back just the slightest bit, his teeth scraping your bottom lip.

“Fuck, I hate admitting just how wild you’ve driven me,” he groaned, undoing his pants.

You wiggled your hips slightly, trying to push your pants down along with your underwear as he sucked roughly on your neck, his hands massaging your boobs through your shirt. You were pretty sure he could make you cum before he was even inside you.

Barely registering your struggles, one hand yanked down the bottom half of your clothes, kicking them aside with his feet while his mouth still explored yours.

Hooking his hands under the back of your thighs, he hoisted you up, holding you against the wall. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you, not giving you any warning.

You moaned loudly. The feeling was better than anything you’d ever fantasized. Your hips thrust outward from the wall to meet with him causing him to growl. You could probably spontaneously combust at this point. You never could have imagined Dr. Spencer Reid had such a sexy, dominant side. If he wanted to fuck you against this wall until you were raw, you’d let him and probably still beg for more.

“Ohhh my god, yes,” you moaned, your head knocking against the wall as he did magical things to you.

His body moved roughly against yours, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, his grunts and groans giving you tingles. You would’ve tried to be witty right about now, but you discovered your brain was nothing but static. Words couldn’t and wouldn’t come.

“You moan this loud for me when you touch yourself?” he grunted, his rhythm purposely slowing down to a snail’s pace.

You were quite amazed that he managed to have enough self control to tease you.

“No,” you whimpered, trying to pull his hips back towards you.

His hands pushed your hips back against the wall firmly, further separating the two of you.

“What’s that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“No, I didn’t. Spencer, please.”

It was almost torture being so close to falling apart and having him stop almost completely. His hand touched your cheek, his thumb moving over your lips, tugging your bottom lip down just a bit before his lips covered yours again. His hips thrust forward against yours once more, hitting such deep spots that your legs were shaking.

He gritted his teeth as he pulled away, clenching them.

“Oh god, it’s so much better than I even imagined,” he gritted out, pulling out of you slowly, to thrust back in harder.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” you encouraged, your back arching, pressing your chest against his.

Your hand tangled in his curls, your moans coming closer together.

“Make me cum, Dr. Reid,” you requested breathlessly.

His fingers expertly reached down to add to your pleasure, fully intending to rock your world.

Your breaths came in more erratic spurts, mixed with your moans as you came apart, tensing around him.

He came hard too, his groans of pleasure ripped from his throat as his head fell back roughly against the door.

It took a moment for Spencer’s surroundings to come back in focus when he opened his eyes, peering down at the mess he’d made all over his hand. He felt his whole face flush when he realized what had just happened.

He grabbed a tissue off the table, cleaning up his mess and getting resituated, zipping up his pants properly, buttoning them once again.

He cursed himself for the fact he’d just gotten off to her. Even worse, an extremely erotic fantasy of her. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.

“Dammit,” he mumbled.

So, it wasn’t his finest moment. But at least he felt less tense and more relaxed now.

He picked up the file on his way back in to finish his interview. There she was waiting, fingernails tapping against the table.

•

You saw right through him because the moment he walked through the door again a grin slowly spread across your face. His cheeks were still flushed and a slight sheen of sweat coated his forehead.

Unless he’d just sprinted to and from the nearest coffee shop, you had a good idea what he’d just been up to.

You didn’t say anything while he sat back down in front of you again, opening the file and looking up at you. You motioned him closer with a crook of your finger so he could hear your next words. He obeyed and leaned in close.

“Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

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strvngcrs · 4 years

Text

『 adam brody. forty. cis male. he/him. 』 oh heavens, is that DANIEL ABRAMS from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -BROODING & -EVASIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool HORROR AUTHOR and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +DEBONAIR & +ELOQUENT. i hope i see them around again!

classically rolls in ridiculously late bc i forgot i had to work last night & then proceeded to sleep in today wooo !! good afternoon ghouls, it’s ya girl maia, finally here to deliver the definition of hot mess with good intentions.

GENERAL

FULL NAME. daniel elijah abrams.

NICKNAMES. dan, danny.

AGE & BIRTHDATE. 40 years old ; may 4, 1980.

GENDER & PRONOUNS. cis male ; he/him.

ORIENTATION. heterosexual.

MARITAL STATUS. estranged.

RELIGION. jewish ( non-practicing ).

OCCUPATION. horror author.

INSPIRATION. bill denbrough ( it ), donnie darko ( donnie darko ), lucas scott ( one tree hill ), stephen king.

PHYSICAL

HAIR COLOUR. black.

EYE COLOUR. dark brown.

BUILD. athletic.

MARKS. freckles scarcely spread across his entire body.

TATTOOS. none.

PIERCINGS. none.

HEIGHT. 5'11".

FACECLAIM. adam brody.

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC. taurus.

ALIGNMENT. chaotic neutral.

HOGWARTS. ravenclaw.

LABEL. the arcane.

POSITIVE TRAITS. cheeky, debonair, driven, eloquent, resilient, solicitous.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. brooding, evasive, inquisitive, sarcastic, stoic, stubborn.

HOBBIES. smokes like a chimney while writing until he forgets what day of the week it is, dabbles in hunting & fishing (thanks @ his dad), labels all crime / thriller genres as ‘predictable’ but continues to watch them, obsesses over & relentlessly criticizes his own work, drinks heavily & passionately plays moonlight sonata or fur elise as if he’s betoven’s disciple.

BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH. california.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. mapleview, north carolina.

NATIONALITY. american.

ETHNICITY. ashkenazi jewish.

PARENTS. judith miller & mr abrams.

SIBLINGS. mia miller.

BIRTH ORDER. eldest.

CHILDREN. penelope abrams.

EDUCATION. university of california, los angeles; bachelor of arts in english.

LANGUAGES. english, some spanish & french.

HISTORY

EARLY LIFE. born to THE judith miller and some newspaper editor, daniel was raised by the latter and notoriously abandoned by the former. well, not completely abandoned - there’s an old shoebox containing a few letters as proof - but that was the only source of communication in their otherwise absent relationship. while little danny boy didn’t fully understand why he couldn’t see his mother, he sought out an alternative solution by watching her movies. his father wasn’t aware, at first, and dan created this extravagant fantasy of the person he thought she was based on the roles she played. however, once papa abrams found out his son was watching these movies (which were probably not fit for children in the first place lmao oop), he begrudgingly revealed the bitter truth. being forced to come to terms with the fact that his own mother willingly abandoned him with his father, daniel didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process why. the hurt of absent mother was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though there must have been something wrong with him. there were fewer and fewer letters sent to judith until he gave up altogether and thus, dan’s out of control behavior was born.

TEENAGE FEVER. SUICIDE MENTION TW. he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, daniel found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city streets with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his dad’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in dan’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with daniel abrams. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned dan the win and a cash prize. bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, daniel embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he kept safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to ucla with a major in literature and plans of diving into some sort or creative writing career or perhaps becoming an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

mere days into his freshman year, however, his high school sweetheart showed up in the middle of the night at his dorm with a positive pregnancy test. it was then the chaotic world as he knew it turned a new leaf, revealing a silver lining in the form of their daughter, penelope, who daniel hadn’t a clue, just yet, would save him. and so a shotgun wedding was quickly planned around the pair, both families either completely supportive or in utter disbelief. it was quick, it was cheap(ish), and it was stressful as all heck. but they were young, and in love, and were looking forward to starting a family together, despite it being a little earlier than initially planned.

“ADULT”HOOD. fast forward five years, and they’re signing divorce papers. fortunately, it wasn’t messy. the two had simply grown apart as they matured in their respective ways, and remaining together was only causing a rift to develop between the two. the last thing they wanted, for the sake of their daughter, was built up resentment to tear the little family apart. his wife, who daniel initially thought to be the love of his life, blossomed into an absolute goddess; she was ambitious and knew exactly what she wanted. daniel, on the other hand, was still somewhat caught up in his ‘bad boy’ habits of drinking excessively and his career was still pretty up in the air. the two just didn’t compliment each others’ lifestyles anymore.

daniel moved out but remained in california, settling for a bachelor’s apartment where he was able to have penelope every weekend. during this time, he finally cracked down and worked on finishing a novel he’d started years prior. within a year, he found a publisher who took interest in his grotesque works, and by the time daniel was twenty seven, his first bestseller hit the shelves, changing his life for the better with the ability to provide for his daughter without stress of landing another odd job ever again.

as his fame increased, so did his desire to slink back into the shadows away from the limelight. at first, he enjoyed the wholesome book signings by day and grungy celebratory benders by night. but it grew old pretty fast and he certainly didn’t want to end up as another washed up shmuck. so, on a whim, daniel decided to move out of california completely, removing himself from the toxic lifestyle he’d grown accustomed to and shacking up on a beautiful piece of land in the rocky mountains of north carolina. the serenity and scenery certainly aided in his inspiration, as well as his unacknowledged lowkey addictions slowly being rehabilitated from his bloodstream.

OLD YELLER. now, in his utmost prime at forty years old, he’s written numerous cult classics, a few of which have successful movie adaptations. he was lucky enough to land himself in a second marriage, though.... that one is now deteriorating as well because he literally doesn’t know how to maintain a healthy relationship. he received full custody of his daughter when she was sixteen, under the unfortunate circumstance of her mother’s untimely death. although they’d been separated for nearly twenty years, daniel was still very much affected by the loss, more so empathetically for penelope. he’s still hooked on the drink, though he’s definitely calmed down quite a bit from when he was a young buck. basically a messy, depressy old soul who uses sarcasm to deflect his true feelings.

CONNECTIONS

ESTRANGED WIFE. first marriage was a bust, and the second is turning out to be no better. they haven’t hit rock bottom just yet, in his opinion (which would be finalizing a divorce lmao), and he’s unsure if they should work things out or not but also really.......doesn’t wanna go through the process of another divorce. plus he likes her and deep down adores their bickering. the reason(s) why things started falling apart between them can be discussed of course. lowkey debating on whippin this up as a big official wc but.... if anybody already here would like to snag it, i would 100% mclove it.

COLLABORATORS. literally anyone he’s worked with over the years, whether they be fellow authors, publishers/publicists, journalists, screenplay writers, etc. yeehooo the possibilities are endless !!

FOLLOWERS. anyone hooked on his books, whether devout fans from his early beginnings or people who newly discovered his fictional writings.

FORMER CLASSMATES. could be from high school or university, but he was in california for the better part of his life aka not a mapleview native. former friends to foes & anything in between. dan’s that one kid who spiked the punch bowl at all the dances and years later probably snuck in party favors to snort off the bathroom sink during their high school reunion lmao whew !!

ANYTHING. literally anything. i’m my groggy state of mind on my lack of creativity rn so please, i’m beggin. if daniel can enrich your characters’ lives in any way, shape, or form, hit me up and we’ll hatch a plan.

#———— 🥀 . 𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙸𝙴𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙼𝚂 ╱ DOSSIER .#mv:intro #alcoholism tw #abandonment tw #drug use tw #mommy issues tw #suicide mention tw #i think....that covers it?? if i missed anything pls let me know & ill tag accordingly #this is awful bc i rushed a wee bit buT #HOT DOG am i stupid excited to write with yall

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whittakerjodie · 4 years

Text

Doppelganger (Whittaker!Master X Reader)

Prompt: You wake up, finding yourself in an alternate TARDIS in an alternate universe. Oh, and with a quite alternate Doctor. Or is she even the Doctor at all?

Words: 2.6k

Authors note: whew this is dark haha. anyway whittaker!master could stomp me and I’d say thank you queen.

Warnings: Violence, torture, blood, angst. It’s the master, y’all. Its dark. REAL dark.

Your head was pounding, your sleepless night doing nothing to soothe it. For some reason, the TARDIS had been quite excited, shaking and beeping and screaming, at one point. You weren’t even waking up necessarily; you’d done that hours ago, when a book flew off the shelf and hit you upside the head.

You grumpily stomped out of bed, not bothering to pull your robe on. You were sure the Doctor wouldn’t mind; her species didn’t seem to be bothered about things like that. The kitchen was already brewing fresh coffee and you thanked the machine, before realizing there was no sugar anywhere in sight. What the hell? There was always plenty. The Doctor was practically an addict.

Shrugging it off, you forewent the coffee and made your way into the console room. The Doctors familiar blonde hair was the first thing you noticed, along with… a new outfit? Your eyes moved over her, glad she was turned around and couldn’t notice you checking her out. She looked good. A warmth spread over your cheeks as you took your time with the task.

The dark red shirt she was wearing contrasted quiet wonderfully with her usual bright closet. So did her waist coat, which hugged her quite snug. You couldn’t distinguish the pattern, but it looked like the same circular symbols you saw throughout the TARDIS. The gold wound around the entire waistcoat, your fingers itching to trail across the fabric.

The rest of her outfit was dark, something that had your throat running dry.

“You’re staring” Your eyes shot wide open, stepping back slightly. Her voice was low- menacing almost. She suddenly whipped around and you nearly passed out from the unusual darkness you saw in her eyes. They were narrowed, digging into the very depths of your soul. “Who are you and what are you doing on my TARDIS?”

You laughed uneasily, raising a brow. “Hit your head in all the ruckus last night?” Your stomach twinged with nervousness as she continued to watch you silently. Slowly, you made your way up to the console, standing next to her.

You felt her eyes rake over your form, and suddenly you were wondering if your attire did matter to her. It wasn’t like you were naked, but all you were wearing as a tank top and light shorts. You tugged at the bottom of them nervously, trying to make conversation.

“What happened last night? Kept me up.”

Instead of answering she reached into her waistcoat and pulled out a sonic screwdriver. Only, when she activated it, a small laser shot towards you and a harsh yellow glow encompassed your whole body. You tried to leap away from it, only to find that your limbs wouldn’t respond. Your heart rate shot through the ceiling as your mouth struggled to move as well.

“D-doctor?” You managed to whimper. She chuckled darkly, hand shooting forward to wrap around your throat. Your breath was cut off abruptly and your eyes filled with tears, mind trying to come to terms with what was happening.

Since when could her screwdriver do that? Why was she staring at you like that, like she’d eat you in a minute? She seemed to be relishing in your confusion, lips curling upwards.

“This should be interesting.” She murmured. She used her painful grip to force your head from side to side, analyzing you. Then, her hand let go and just as you drew in a small, shaky breath it made sharp contact with your face, sending you into darkness.

__________

When you woke up, you had only a small moment of relaxation before fatigue, confusion, and tension settled into your bones. You tried to relieve the tension, but your limbs were once again unable to cooperate. It wasn’t the weird laser this time, though. As you tugged against your restraints, the rope tugged back and burned against your skin.

You hissed, opening your eyes. Darkness was the only thing that greeted you. A blindfold was tied around your head. What was going on? You felt fear (all too familiar, considering your travels with the Doctor) crawl across your skin, heightening every sense. You could hear quiet breathing from across the room.

“Awake, are we?”

It was the Doctor. Why did she sound like that?

“Doctor?” You croaked. “W-What’s going on? Why am I tied up”

You heard a rustling and then rapid footsteps, trying to lean back as she made her way towards you. Nothing could prepare you for the sharp sting of leather against your thigh, sending a devastating wave of pain up your leg and through your body. You cried out, gritting your teeth as the aftershocks stung you.

“Doctor, why-” Another rough smack greeted you, this time across the side of your arm. You yelled again, tugging desperately against the rope holding you in place. Why? Your mind asked Why why why?

“Don’t call me that” She growled. The leather- a riding crop, you determined, rested against your cheek and you nodded furiously. Anything to avoid being hit again. But why was she saying that? Had something taken her over?

“I have questions for you,” She said. The riding crop slid under your blindfold and you shut your eyes as brightness flashed before them. She threw the blindfold across the room, riding crop trailing over your lips.

“I want to know how you got here, who you are, and why you keep calling me Doctor.”

“I don’t understand,” You panted. She looked angry, scary. Even though it was the Doctors face she wore, you could tell it wasn’t her. You repeated what you’d said and she struck the side of your cheek with the crop, irritated.

“Likewise. Stop wasting my time” A fresh tear fell off your cheek and you nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“Y-y/n”

“How did you get on board my TARDIS?”

“I’ve been on the TARDIS for months. I went to bed and woke up-” She raised the riding crop again and you jumped. “No, no no no!”

You shut your eyes and turned your head away, but the sharp contact never came. Instead, a gloved finger trailed across your skin, far too gentle compared to the treatment you’d received in the past few minutes.

“Did I pick you up somewhere? I’m not so sure I'd forget such a pretty thing like you”

You stared at her, blushing despite the fear coursing through your veins. She continued to hold your face, humming lowly.

“Who are you?” You whispered.

“You can call me Master”

_____

The interrogation seemed to last for hours. After the initial shock subsided, you focused your attention on not giving anything about the real doctor away. Your evasions seemed to only irritate her further. Your skin was smarting all over from the numerous cracks of the riding crop, so much so that you eventually became numb to it. She’d left ten minutes ago, fuming at your disobedience.

When she returned, she was twirling a knife between her fingers. It gleamed in the dim light of the room, taunting you.

She twirled it over your cheek, snarling.

“I’ll give you one last chance. Where do I find the Doctor?”

You shook your head as slightly as you could so as not to cut yourself on the blade. She gave a small tsk, pouting her lip dramatically.

“Fine then. We’ll play a different game.”

Your eyes widened as she slipped the knife into her pocket, unbuttoning her waistcoat. Air logged itself in your throat and you let out an odd, strangled noise, much to her satisfaction. She shrugged the waistcoat off and let it slip to the floor, turning her attention to the red button up. Oh no. This was… this was wrong. What was she doing. She chuckled at your blushing, making a show out of each button to tease you.

“I see now. You’re all the same, aren’t you? So hopelessly in love. So pretty when you’re terrified.” She murmured. “Looks like my next game will be quite the stunner”

You shut your eyes in protest, trying to block out whatever she was planning. A sharp slap against your cheek sent tears pushing against your eyelids, a weight settling into your lap. She chuckled, pulling the knife out of her pocket.

Thumbs dragged under your eyelids to force them open, and you nearly passed out from the sight that met you. The Master was straddling your lap, unbuttoned shirt exposing the length of her chest and stomach. In her hands, she twirled the knife.

“H-hurting me isn’t going to break me” You spit between gritted teeth. You tried to square your shoulders, harden your eyes. Anything to convince her- and yourself- of what you’d said. She didn’t chuckle this time; she laughed. It was ridiculous, dramatic, and loud; yet somehow still beautiful. Then her face fell into a dead serious expression.

“Oh, love, what makes you think I’m going to hurt you?” You gasped, watching her quickly slice the tip of the knife across the side of her neck, just light enough to draw blood. At the sight of it you recoiled, shrieking.

“Stop!” You yelled. “Stop- how?” Didn’t it hurt her??

Another stark laugh. “I’ve stolen more bodies than I can count. Died too many times to care. Do you really think a small knife is painful. DO YOU?”

You jumped again, whimpering at the loud outburst.

“I wonder how many marks I can make before you stop me...” You heard another cut open, shaking your head.

“Stop, please. Please don’t do this.”

“Does it hurt, hm? Seeing her like this? I could stop, dear. Just say the word.“ You shut your eyes tighter, squeezing your lips together. No matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t put the Doctor in danger. But she is in danger, technically. No, it’s someone else. Oh god, but it’s her. It’s her, it’s her it’s her.

Her hand wrapped itself around your throat once more, gripping it tight enough to make you see color behind your eyelids. “No you don’t” She growled. “EYES ON ME!”

You met her eyes, stomach churning at the darkness and anger in storming behind them.

“If you weren’t so annoying… I could respect your perseverance. Maybe. Maybe not.”

She placed the knife against her collarbones, digging into the flesh. Blood trickled downward slowly, and you tugged at your restraints as if you could try and stop her. “Where is the Doctor?” She asked again.

“I can’t tell you!”

“I’m starting to lose patience, love. I suggest not testing me any further.Lots of legroom with this strategy.” For a moment, you almost considered telling her, just to get the knife away from the Doctors skin.

Then, everything started to shake and groan around you. Your chair nearly toppled over, taking you and the Master with it. Loud beeps and cloister bells could be heard from down the hallway, and the Master turned towards the sound. Red lights danced across the walls. Something was wrong.

“Running out of time, are we?”

You heard yelling and tried to shake in your seat in an attempt to get her off of you. Unfortunately, all the movement did was remind her of your existence and she let out a guttural growl, smashing her fingers into your temple.

You cried out as your vision gave out, mind screaming along with you. Everything was on fire; claws digging through your mind leaving confusion and static in their wake. No feeling, thought, or memory was distinguishable from the other leaving you defenseless as she continued to invade your mind, taking what she needed. Somewhere, miles away you could hear: Good to see she’s no different than the one in my universe. Makes fighting her much easier.

Before you could try and push her out the connection was severed, your body landing on the ground with a smack. You let out another cry of pain, black flashing at the corner of your vision.

“Who are you?!?” The Doctor’s voice. Or was it the Master? You couldn’t tell.

“Oh, you know, dear Doctor. I know who you are, too, thanks to your little pet there.” That was the Master. You could hear the Doctor gasp.

“What have you done to them?” She pointed her sonic at you, trying to determine how severe your wounds were. You tried to tell her you were okay, but the Master took control of the scene once more.

“We’ve had our fun. Now it’s our turn.” You turned your head to see her charge at the Doctor, knife in hand, grinning like a child on Christmas. The Doctor ducked just in time, and your panicked eyes met.

The Master swung again, toppling them both onto the ground. It would’ve been quite the sight to see- two people, identical yet so very different at the same time, crawling and struggling against one another.

“You know what the best part about this is, Doctor?” She was on top, knife raised but directed towards the point between the Doctor's hearts. You could feel warmth around your wrists where blood started to seep from your cut skin, every inch of you trying to help her. “You’re not even from this universe. I could kill you. Right here, right now. And then? Well, then I can do it all over again with my Doctor. Oh, but maybe I’ll start with my new pet first”

The Doctor let out a scream, using a surprising amount of force to throw the doppelganger off and send a punch straight to her jaw. You certainly weren’t expecting that. The knife clattered to the floor and the Doctor scooped it up, gripping the handle tightly.

“Look away, Y/n” She whispered. She wouldn’t- would she? The Master laughed, wiping blood from the corner of her lip.

“Oh, I don’t think she should. Shouldn’t love be honest, Doctor? Show her who you really are”

“Doctor” You whimpered. She couldn’t do this; it would destroy her. “I know who you are. Don’t listen to her.”

She threw you a pitiful glance as the master leapt up, snatching the knife back from her.

“My god, you are a coward” She spat. The knife arced upwards, towards the Doctors stomach and she jumped back. More footsteps were coming down the hallway and she stepped between the door and the Master.

“Any day. Any universe”

Ryan and Yaz ran in, holding a pair of handcuffs and an odd looking gun you’d never seen before. Something from this other universe, perhaps?

The Master groaned, and your three friends jumped forward to tackle her to the ground, forcing the cuffs around her wrists. The Doctor told Yaz to check on you and she did, running over.

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you alright?”

You laughed, unsure of how else to respond. Not really.

The Doctor came over to you next, dropping to her knees and cutting the rope from around your wrists. Her and Yaz hissed at the sight of the torn skin, the Doctor glaring daggers at the identical enemy behind her.

“I’m okay” You whispered. You really weren’t, but saying it somehow made you feel like it might be true.

“No, you’re not. I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I’m going to get us back home.” The Doctor leaned down and scooped you into a hug. Your muscles screamed at the sudden stretch and a pained groan left your mouth. She immediately let go, cupping your face and staring into your eyes with concern. That was more like it. Your Doctor.

She brought you into her arms in a less stressful bridal style hold, standing up. You leaned into her warmth- real warmth, not terrifying fire- sighing.

“Are we really going to leave her here?” Yaz asked as you all prepared to leave.

“She’ll find a way out.” The Doctor promised. “Always does.”

She didn’t say anything more, and your ears blocked out the sound of Ryan explaining everything to you. Fatigue was taking over. The only thing you could focus on was the way the Master's piercing gaze fixated on you until you could see her no more.

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #whittaker!master #Whittaker!master x reader

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nocturnegyser · 4 years

Text

Feral Angel

Warren x reader (Racc)

this is my real first time writing anything like this at all so its going to be really crappy and flawed... so please be mean

TW: Mentions death

(y/n) has always been kinda feral growing up, having her fathers raccoon mutation giving her raccoon ears and tail and ability to hear and smell things like a raccoon and even the signature raccoon black mask you see every raccoon born with, her mother being human no one knows where her reality manipulation comes from, perhaps she accidentally grew another mutation?

After an accident with some boys she got in a fight with causing her to discover her reality manipulation power, her brother hesitantly sent her to Xaviers School for the Gifted, with a heavy heart and bag packed, (y/n) bid her brother adieu.

Her first step in, (y/n) is immediately greeted by Hank McCoy

“Hello, you must be (y/n) (y/l/n), I’m Hank McCoy, I am a teacher here and will be giving you your orientation tomorrow but for today I hope you have a relatively easy time settling in-“

(y/n) is immediately mesmerized by his fluffy blue furry face, in the middle of him explaining everything she immediately just pets his face and immediately Hank grabs (y/n)’s hands

“Please don’t do that.. ever again..”

“Oh ok sorry ._.”

“Well anyways for now I will hand you over to another one of our members here, Ororo, she will be showing you your way to your room”

Hank then passed (y/n) along to Ororo to show her to her room.

“This your first time living away from home?” asked Ororo trying to be friendly with (y/n)

“Oh! Uh, yea.. kinda.. I would travel with my brother a lot when I was younger so I lived in a van for a little bit but that was fun”

“You ever live apart from your brother?”

“No...” answered (y/n) a little nervously

“Well this place can be as homely as you make it to be” Ororo assures her

Finally coming up on (y/n)’s new room for the next 3 years or so Ororo opens the door to reveal her new room, her boxes she had sent a week earlier were sitting in the corner ready for her to unpack

“I know it can be intimidating here at first but you’ll soon come to adjust to life here.” Ororo reassured (y/n)... again

Ororo left (y/n) to unpack and settle in for her first night, she noticed she wasn’t sharing her room with anyone

Great, away from home and alone, this is already shaping to be a great new life...

Not even touching one of her packed boxes a baseball crashes through her window

“WHAT THE F*CK!!” (y/n) immediately exclaimed

She ran up to the window dodging the broken glass on the floor even though she was barefoot, looking for who threw the baseball

She immediately saw him, tall, broad, intimidating, and metal wings. He was the only one with a bat and the only one looking in her direction, he immediately ran inside, presumably heading to her room. 7 minutes later the tall metal winged angel shows up at her door

“Aww jeez.. sorry ‘bout that, here, I’ll take my ball back... and I’ll tell someone u need a new window..”

“DUDE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU’RE AIMING WITH THAT THING, YOU’RE LUCKY I WASN’T STANDING IN FRONT OF MY WINDOW OR ELSE ONE OF US WOULD NOT BE STANDING RIGHT NOW!!” (y/n) angrily yelled at the angel boy

“Dude! I said I was sorry! Just give me back my ball ok?”

“UGH, fine take your stupid ball and watch where you’re aiming next time, GOD!”

Angrily, (y/n) slammed her door in the angel boys face.

“Man who the hell- UGH!”

Not even a full hour here and my window is shattered and there’s glass all over my floor! This is ALREADY shapping up to be a GREAT TIME

Meanwhile on the other side of the door

“Ugh! I said sorry!” angel boy grumbled walking away

(y/n) sweeps up the broken glass on the floor and throws a blanket over her broken window

———

Having unpacked 3 of her 5 boxes, (y/n) decides to call it a night and decided to finish tomorrow considering her classes start on tuesday and it was saturday

“Whew! Well the glass is cleaned up, window is... handled.. for now, 60% of my stuff is unpacked-”

A loud growl emitted from (y/n)’s small raccoon stomach

“well... guess i should go eat something then.. what time is it?.. 9:30??!? Jeez where does all my time go??”

Realizing how tired she is, she slowly makes her way to the dorm kitchen and hears someone already in there

Who is in here at 9:37 at night?.... besides me

She turns the corner and see’s who exactly is in the kitchen at 9:37 at night, angel boy

He turns around the second (y/n) enters the kitchen and both lock eyes immediately and both go “Ugh.”Neither saying anything, (y/n) begins making herself a pb and j and chips

“....”

“You mind passing me a knife?” (y/n) hesitantly asked noticing he was standing in front of the silverware drawer

Both staring each other dead in the eyes, angel boy slowly moved from in front of the silverware drawer not passing her a knife. Ugh, still maintaining eye contacts and squinting both giving each other death stares (y/n) slowly grabs a knife from the drawer

“Thanks.. a lot”

“Don’t mention it”

Continuing making her sandwich neither still talking

“So... I told the repair guy you needed a new window and he said he’ll be able to put a new one in on Monday”

“That’s the earliest??”

“No, the earliest was tomorrow but you were being a dick”

“God, you know, for an angel you’re an asshole you know that”

“I’m not an angel”

“Explains the wings and attitude”

Both still at each other’s throats, (y/n) realized she was not making anything better so she decided to try and de-escalate the situation

“Well anyways... I’m (y/n) (y/l/n)” (y/n) said holding out her hand for a handshake

“Warren Worthington” shaking her hand

“So... can you talk to raccoons? or find cool shit in dumpsters?”

“No and dumpster diving isn’t my mutation, I can hear and smell things like a raccoon can and just recently discovered I also have reality manipulation.”

“Reality manipulating raccoon girl huh? that must be a combo everyone’s surprised to hear”

“I don’t tell everyone, unlike you, I can hide my mutation”

“Why do you want to hide your mutation, and how do you hide your eye mask?”

“To avoid problems with people, and i use concealer”

“What kind of problems?”

“The bad kind”

“Why don’t you just fight them?”

Jesus who is this guy, an investigator??

“For an angel boy you sure ask a lot of questions”

“Not an angel”

“You’re right.. for a pigeon you ask a lot of questions”

“And for a trash panda you have a lot of snide remarks”

Again at each other’s throats, both finish their food and go to bed

“Jesus what a first day away from home, I’ll have to ask that repair guy if he can still give me a new window tomorrow” (y/n) said to herself in the comfort of her own room... alone..

One day down... countless more to go...

———

After her orientation with Hank, (y/n) decided to take a stroll through the mansion to familiarize herself even more with the mansion more

(y/n) glossed through the library, sped through the classrooms, peeked in the chemistry lab, she had already been at the kitchen and her hallway, she didn’t feel the need to check out the other hallways. She did however want to checkout the attic since the basement was essentially off limits to students.

Finally making it to the attic, she took a liking to the relaxing atmosphere. I could get used to the atmosphere up here, she thought to herself

(y/n) staring the window, taking a moment to herself to think. The hatch on the floor then opening up “Oh.. I’m sorry I didn’t realize anyone would be up here..,” (y/n) looked over to see Warren

“Oh, no it’s fine, I’ll leave if you wanna be up here... alone” (y/n) offered, “No no I’ll just find some place else to-“

“Well it’s not like I own the attic”(y/n) joked trying to let Warren stay upstairs

“Uh.. yeah ok, I guess” Warren slowly making his way back up the ladder “I just come up here to read sometimes”

“What do you read?” (y/n) asked trying to spark some small talk

“Mostly Cult of Raven or Stephen King”

“Stephen Kings that guy who wrote that one story about that hotel right with those twins in the hallways saying ‘Come play with us,’ right?”

“The shining?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yea”

“Then yes”

“You don’t read Stephen?” Warren asked engaging in the small talk

“I don’t read a whole lot in general” (y/n) admitted “Got any recommendations?”

Warren pulling out ‘Monkeys Paw’, handing it to (y/n)

“What’s this about” she asked curiosly

“Basically the term ‘you get what you wish for’ taken to the extreme”

“Ah, okay” (y/n) the. beginning to read along with Warren

———

Not even a full 3 minutes passed before Peter came running up to the attic hiding from someone

(y/n) and Warren both looking at him confused, “What the bell? Peter? What’re-“ Peter cutting him off

“Ok ok ok promise not to say anything to Jean?” Peter begged

“What?”(y/n) asked “Well let’s just say I accidentally ticked Jean off,” then hearing Jean yelling from under the attic

“WHERE ARE YOU PETER, I KNOW YOU BROKE MY VASE OF LILY’S!!” Peter scared then sneaking out the nook window onto the roof as a quick escape

Jean then making her way up to the attic, “Where is he,” her eyes practically red, both pointing at the window, Warren trying to open it realizing Peter jammed it unable to open it “Welp.. guess I should go get him off the roof... again” Warren then making his way down the latter to outside

Jean still standing there, her hand in her hip her other on her forehead, noticing (y/n) just awkwardly sitting there, “Sorry about that, the boys here can be a bit much...”

“huh?”

“Warren, he got here not long before you did, he’s still trying to adjust himself, it’s nice to see you two being nice to each other”

“Well it’s not like it’s that hard to get along with him, I realized that once I took a step back to not argue with him, his nice guy act could use a little work though” (y/n) sheepishly admitted

“You’d be surprised who all he does the ‘nice guy’ act for around here”

“Lemme guess, half the girls here, right?”

“Like I said, you’d be surprised”

Jean then left (y/n) to go find Peter and ultimately reprimand him

———

You’d be surprised? Who all? What’s that supposed to mean? (y/n) thought to herself in her room

Hearing a knocking at her door, (y/n) goes to answer it, she opens the door to see Jubilee

“Oh ok, so you’re (y/n) (y/l/n), right?”

“Uh.. yes, and you are?...”

“Jubilation Lee, but you can just call me Jubilee or just Jube’s”

“Right, and what exactly can I do for you?”

“Oh right, Peter asked me to ask you if you wanted to go to the movies with us later seeing as how you’re the newest addition to the crew”

“The crew?”

“Yea! I mean you’re new here and we figured you’d maybe want some friends”

The concept of friendship was not entirely new to (y/n) but it definitely wasn’t familiar

“Uh, well yea sure, I guess, I’m not exactly busy until Tuesday so..”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details and add you to our group chat if you want”

“Uh, yeah sure ok” (y/n) shrugged and exchanged numbers

“Great! well we were thinking about seeing- *GASP* You have an electric guitar??!” Jubilee instantly distracted

“Yea, her name is bender, because it’s a fender so it’s a fender.. bender” (y/n) joked letting Jubilee come in

“Oh that is perfect, are you in a band?”

“No, I dreamt about it but it never happened hehe”

“I might know a few people who wouldn’t mind joining a rock, more on that later, but we were thinking about seeing that new horror flick that’s in theaters right now at around 6-ish”

it was 4:37

“It’s going to be me and my friends Jean, Scott, and Warren”

“Warren??”

“Yea, you meet him?”

Meeting Warren was a bit of an understatement at this point

“Yes, we met” (y/n) as exhausted as she sounded of him

“Great! Well I hope you two got along because we were thinking of seating arrangements and now that you’re on board, you’re gonna be next to Warren”

“Does it have to be next to warren?”

“What’s wrong? you don’t like him?”

“Well...” (y/n) paused to think that maybe actually getting to know Warren some more wouldn’t kill either of them

“Well?”

“Ok, yea, next to Warren it is” (y/n) said with a determined look

“Ok great, if I’m being honest, asking you to the movies was actually Warrens idea, he just wanted me to say it was Peter, not sure why”

Warren wanted her to ask me? Why not ask me himself?

“You’d be surprised who all he does the ‘nice guy’ act for around here”

Could that be what Jean meant?

“Well I’ll see you around 6 at the garage, see you then! Oh and nice meeting you”

“Yeah you too” closing her door puzzling what it all meant together

Eventually 6 was drawing close so (y/n) rushed getting ready and got to the garage super early and decided just to wait there for everyone

Warren then came walking through the door

“Oh, you’re here early”

“You too” she replied playfully trying to be friendly

“So...” (y/n) began “You watch the trailer for this movie yet?”

“No not yet, supposedly it’s good though from what I’ve heard so far”

“Nice, I didn’t watch a whole lot of horror growing up”

“Too scary for you?”

“No, my brother who raised me didn’t think of them as a proficient use of time, so we didn’t watch them a lot”

“Oh wow, I used to watch them all the time with my mom”

“Aww, I never knew either of my parents” (y/n) immediately regretted just blurting that out nonchalantly

“Oh...” Warren said a little shocked that she admitted something so personal

“Yea.. Well.. I’m sorry that probably sounded problematic but I swear it’s not what all it sounds like but...” (y/n) explained almost stammering

The rest of the group finally walking in

“I call shotgun!” Jean exclaimed as she rushed to the front seat

(y/n), Warren and Jubilee all sat in the back, (y/n) never have been in a car with friends she stayed quiet ‘cause she didn’t know what to talk about but was listening to the other’s conversations, she looked up at Warren who was sitting in the middle and (y/n) on his left, she noticed he was just looking dead ahead with stone cold eyes

Dang, he must not be all that interested in anything I guess...

Jean overheard what both were thinking and took more interest as to what Warren was thinking about, wonder what that could be?

The group finally arrived at the movies and all hop out and start making their way to front doors, this being the first time (y/n) was out in public not hiding her ears, tail or eyes, she was understandabley nervous and a little fidgety, she felt a million eyes on her and immediately wanted to run into the forested area behind the movie theater

It’s ok you know, people around here are not more accepting of mutants considering they live right next to a whole mansion full of them

Do you always talk to people in their own heads???

It’s better to think of just people taking amazement in your mutation then them just judging you

Yea well easy for you, you can hide your mutation, I mean... I can too but i didn’t wear my hat it didn’t go with my outfit

Jean giving (y/n) a motherly smile trying reassure everything’s fine

“Ahh fudge!!” Jubilee exclamed at the sight of the theater not showing the movie they wanted to see

“Mann! what’re we supposed to do now? This took a lot of convincing Charles!” Jubilee explained

The group went silent thinking about something to do

“I kinda wanna check out the music shop” (y/n) suggested

“I wanna go to forever 21,” said Jubilee

“Me and Scott’ll be at the party” Jean dragging Scott along and the rest of the group all going their own ways too

Waking in the music shop, (y/n) couldn’t figure one thing

So... why exactly did Warren decide to tag along with me?

“What exactly were you thinking on getting here?” Warren asked

“I was thinking about investing in some new strings, and maybe that new blink 182 album..”

“You play?”

“Yeah”

“You in a band?”

“No... I wanted to but no one wanted to start one with a reality manipulating raccoon girl I guess” (y/n) said jokingly

“Heh, any cool inspirations?”

“My dad for starters”

“He played?”

“Yea, I watched old videos of him on stage and he could shred” a little bashfulness rosiness in (y/n)’s cheeks

“I take it you want to carry on the legacy?”

“Something like that, I mostly picked it up ‘cause I thought it looked cool and I didn’t have to spend money buying a new guitar”

“You’re using your dads”

“Yea, he named it Bender”

“Like from Futurama?”

“Maybe, but the main reason being is because it’s a Fender, so it’s a Fender BENDER” she joked nudging Warren seeing if he got the joke

“Clever, think you’re going to start a band?”

“If I can find any players here”

“I know my way around a drum kit, if that helps”

“No way! Do you have a kit?”

“No, I’m sure the music program at the school has one though”

“Hopefully”

“What kinda music do you like?”

“Mostly punk and alternative, you?”

“Metallica and Queen”

“Oh nice, I don’t necessarily hate classic rock, but I definitely prefer punk”

“It definitely suits you”

“Haha and what’s that supposed to mean?” (y/n) poking fun at Warrens statement, almost flirting

“Uh- well I mean it’s just very chaotic and from the time I’ve known you, you give off that controlled chaos kinda vibe”

“Controlled chaos ay? Well your vibe... I definitely gotta say is very Controlled rage”

“Must be why we go together” Warren immediately regretting spurting that out

“You think we go together?”

“Well- I meant like- I guess- I-“ Warren now blushing

He’s so cute flustered, to think he blushes so easily

(y/n) immediately realizing something

Wait.. I’ve never seen him blush but neither has anyone else... ahh I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything... right?...

“Yea well.. I’m gonna go buy these strings then” (y/n) said blushing a little bit

Both got a text from the rest of the group saying they’re ready to go home now that it’s 8:35

“Well guess we should meet up with everyone..” Warren pointing out the obvious and dodging eye contact

“Yea...”(y/n) agreeing also dodging eye contact both blushing

———

Finally getting back to the mansion (y/n), Jean, and Jubilee all make their way back to their rooms

Scott noticing Warren watching (y/n) walk away “You two have fun at the music shop?”

“Yea, didn’t know she played guitar” Warren said a little cheerfully.

“Someones sounding a little less murdery than usual”

“Shut up...”

———

A/N: I’m sorry if this sucked but it’s my first fanfic...

#warren worthington iii x reader #raccoon reader #warren x raccoon #headcanon #warren worthington headcanon #raccoon x warren

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doctorgerth · 4 years

Note

Can I get BIM of the NSFW Alphabet for Denjiro/Kyoshiro? thanks!!!!!

What better way to start this off than with an awesome newcharacter! I really love Denjiro. Totally hated him at first ofc, but he’scompletely won me over now that we know the truth. Is it a thirst???Infatuation??? Idk man, I just think he’s neat. He kinda gives me someRosinante vibes? Like, very caring and loyal, secretly a wonderful guy, and atotal goofball which just makes him so oddly attractive to me. Idk, I may be crazy -tell me I’m not crazy!

Thanks for requesting and hope you enjoy! 💙💜

My “keep reading” cut is being dumb on mobile, so just warning SPOILERS AHEAD

Denjiro NSFW Alphabet (B, I, M)

B = Bodypart (Their favorite body part of their’s and also their partner’s)

- for his own favorite body part, I think Denjiro is quitecontent with himself all over. strong arms to hold you, burly chest for you toclaw at, big ol’ hands to caress and squeeze you, a long, thing cock to makeyou cry out in pleasure…the list goes on and on

- for specifically pleasing you, however, Denjiro is mostproud of his mouth, specifically lips and tongue. he loves kissing you allover, and feeling your soft skin beneath his lips is pure heaven sent. not tomention he can work some magic with that tongue of his….

- as for his favorite body part of yours, you couldn’tpossibly expect him to narrow it down to just one part! everything about yousends him over the moon and he doesn’t waste an opportunity to show every inchof your body some love during sexy times

- though honestly, both sexually and not, he loves the more“squishy” or fleshy parts of you best

- your chest, stomach, thighs, and ass are all sexy in theirown ways, and he loves to show each of these parts some special love, but thebest part about them is they offer a warm, comfortable place for him to fallasleep on once you’ve worn him out (or just for naps in general)

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

- Denjiro is either a freak in the sheets or romantic afthere is hardly ever anything in between

- when he’s feeling romantic, he can be really romantic withit. candles, flowers, making love on under the stars, anything to show how muchhe loves you and how much he loves making love to you. he’s a very passionatelover, this dude just really likes to get it on

- those late nights returning home to you from his WitchingHour Boy duties, he can’t help but crawl into bed with you, pulling you tightlyinto him, and soaking in your warmth. it almost always turns him on, despitehow exhausted he is, so as you stir awake he makes sweet love to you until he’sabsolutely spent

- but when he’s in a freaky mood, it’s almost comical howfreaky he can get. he’ll get you into all sorts of strange positions, in thestrangest areas. there’s hardly anything he’ll say no to, especially with along-term partner.

- during the more romantic moments, he loves to hold youclose and take his time with you, savoring every moment. he’s much more quietduring this kind of love-making, only whispering about how much he loves youand how good you feel. any other time, he’s bit rougher with some biting, spanking, and harsh fucking. and boy does he have a dirty mouth…

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

- Denjiro is a simple man with simple needs, not to mention he’s crazy about you, so just about anything you do is sure to get him in the mood

- tight/revealing clothing, walking around in his clothes (no matter how silly you may look), dirty talk/jokes, seductive eyes, crawling onto his lap - just show him you want him and he’s yours instantly

- he loves the thrill and naughtiness of touching you when in public, so don’t be surprised if he’s a lil handsy when you two are out and about. he’s very playful as he likes to sneak in some ass grabs and other inappropriate groping. if you were to grope him under a table or sneak a quick kiss, whew boy it’ll take everything within him not to whisk you away to a spare room or an alley somewhere (but he just might)

- this is really silly and only a long-term partner would know this but Denjiro loves to have his own ass grabbed. slap or squeeze it when you’re walking by and next thing you know you two will be fucking on the kitchen floor. he can’t explain it, it just really turns him on lol

- watching you touch yourself is also a major turn on for him, if you’re comfortable with it of course. he’s so intrigued as to what works for you and he’s more than eager to practice what he’s learned.

#doctorgerth #one piece #one piece headcanons #op headcanons #one piece hcs #op hcs #ns.fw alphabet #filth alphabet #ns.fw #sinful #filth #spoilers #denjiro #reader insert

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heartlessconviction · 3 years

Text

What makes a compelling RP Character:

So I see this everywhere, and heck I’ve been guilty on this as well when first making an OC 10 years ago. They are usually cliché stereotypes that serve as a main character, they have zero room to grow; as they are already perfect as is... A Mary Sue essentially... Fortunately as Mun’s Mature, and in turn improve their ability in the craft, they typically move out of this phase and actually improve the quality of their character building. A fair few don’t however, so it begs to question to what actually dictates an interesting character to begin with; whether it be an OC or a Canon entity these are the 3 things I’ve chalked such down to: 1. Interesting Premise So the first is an interesting premise, every good character needs a backbone within their motivations and writing; to create this you need to build a great foundation for your OC to stand upon, thus grow from. One mistake I see often is something I dub, Main Character Syndrome: This is when said character is the goat, they are the best, they can shit on Son Goku and know everything there is to know already on day 1. Individuals who often write such introductions, come from a place of inexperience and/or insecurities within their writing skills. And it truly shows... The one misconception that trips people up here, is that power/status does not equate to compelling writing or development. I.e; just because your character is a god, doesn’t make them important nor interesting. If you have to rely on a title you gave your character yourself to justify their existence, rather than their innate qualities and traits they possess as a person; then you’ve failed in this regard. To be fair here, writing the introduction for your character is often the hardest if they are an OC, as you never truly learn everything about your character often until years later. A tip to help you is starting your character off from the midpoint of their lives, often when you create the conception of a muse; they are ever hardly at the beginning of their journey as, they are usually adults or slightly older. Use this to your advantage, flesh out the basic conception of your character from this time frame, before delving in further and exploring their past and future. You will truly see your muse flourish when you put the time in to flesh them out in this regard. 2. A plan This kind of extends into my prior point, you need to construct a plan for your character to follow down. This can be formed in many ways, i.e. Perhaps you have a number of interesting events in your mind, these events may represent part of your OC’s past; or where they end up, towards the end of their lives. Write them down, figure out what is going to be the motivations of your characters. How their past have effected them, and how they can grow through the events laid out in their future. Fill them up with new ideas and interactions, this is your time to get creative as not every idea you come up with will turn out well; you will most likely change these as time goes on. Still its important to write them down, as to observe the progression of your muse; it also gives you a backlog to their history and references that maybe relevant at a later date. Always keep record in a plan! 3. The perfect character to write for, is often one filled with imperfections Now this is the most important, remember when I said earlier, just because your character is a god; that doesn’t make them a compelling character? Yeah this is the point I was alluding to. Now one of my favorite characters of all time, is none other than Ayane from DOA... (Specifically 1-4... She was mishandled in Dimensions/5/6) But my point is Ayane is awesome. She’s beautiful, she has an attitude that I can get behind, she oozes confidence wherever she goes; needless to say if I could marry Ayane I would. That isn’t why I love her so much, the reason why I adore her to this extent. Is due to the authenticity of her character; stemming from the challenges she has to face and overcome throughout the series. So Ayane is a member of the Mugen Tenshin Clan, her father raped her mother which led to her conception. Unwilling to harm the child, her uncle Shiden sent her to live with Genra so she was not raised in the same household as her siblings. Ayane grew up in this village, getting shat on by the vast majority of people. Whilst her sister Kasumi was raised like a princess, she did not come to find out why until many years later, and when she did; came to resent Kasumi and the life she never had. Now does Ayane’s backstory make her compelling on its own? No, in fact if your muses backstory is too edgy, that can be a detriment to them as characters. You want to entice the readers, not make them cringe. However a good backstory can allow your muse to be relatable if their evolution and emotions are handled in a humane manner. For Ayane (Before Dimensions fucked everything up plot wise.) this is successful. Her feelings of resentment and jealousy toward Kasumi are justified in this case, she was born into a world where most people treated her like shit; for an event she had literally no control over. Meanwhile being an outcast as her Sister lived happily with their family; at this point in time Ayane is around 14-16 years old... So the emotions she encapsulates in this moment are believable and authentic given this fact. What really makes Ayane an amazing character, is her growth beyond this resentment. (Again, before Dimensions fucked everything up plot wise; what I will be explaining got retconned in that game and I don’t acknowledge it.) So for the first two games, she’s pretty much trying to Kill Kasumi, as per orders from Shiden. So in those 2 iterations, she’s basically an antagonist; it wasn’t until DOA 3 where Ayane’s growth really started taking off, when her foster father Genra is manipulated by DOATEC and becomes Omega. (In Dimensions they retconned this, and Genra joined them willingly. I hate this as it diminishes Ayane’s resolve and ending in 3, forcing Hayate and Hayabusa in there for the sake of it.) Now Ayane is torn emotionally, she has loyalty to the Mugen Tenshin Clan and Hayate, thus she wants to be the one to kill her foster father. Even going as far as beating the absolute shite out of Hayate; to prevent him from interfering in her own personal mission. In that same token, she also has emotional loyalty to Genra. The man to raise her and being the only person to really sort of treat her like a human being in the first place, at the age of 16 she is forced into an unfavorable position forcing her to mature as she made her decision to kill her father... You see this in her confrontation with Kasumi, opting not to kill her so she can go and see Hayate, as she had bigger fish to fry. Whilst she still held these feelings of resentment within her, slowly Ayane grew to overcome them in the face of something far more important to her. When Ayane defeats Genra. (On her own, Dimensions didn’t happen.) This serves to wrap up most of her character arc, at this point she knows who she is and what she has to do going forward; going into 4 she has mellowed out considerably. Still seeing Kasumi as a traitor, now it was more along the lines of a rivalry rather than needing to kill her (even though it was still her orders iirc.) When the opportunity arises to allow Kasumi to die, running back into the burning DOATEC building at the end of 4. Ayane stopped her, she still wasn’t on the best terms with Kasumi; however considering where she started off from such an action was significant to her growth as a person. My whole gush over Ayane was to emphasize this point: An imperfect character is often the best character to write for. You will succeed in creating awesome muses if you can understand that growth, is the prospect that will dictate whether your muse is truly compelling. Nobody likes a know it all, nobody likes a Mary Sue... What people enjoy are characters they can relate to on a fundamental level, this is why often times characters other than the main in anime and manga such as Vegeta; tend to be the most well written in the grand scheme of things. They have flaws, a ton of flaws; however they grow from them and overcome them. Failure builds character, imperfection promotes growth. Don’t be afraid to make a character with flaws, if your character doesn’t have any flaws then that is more concerning as a reader; if I cannot see your character evolve overtime why would I be compelled to follow them? Whew... That was a ramble...

#RP #RP Topics #What makes an interesting character?#Assessment #critique #Opinion Piece #Ayane is best girl #I had to gush over her to prove my point #Sorry #I want to portray Ayane at some point...

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borealwrites · 4 years

Text

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Whew, right at the 1k mark~ I hope you all enjoy! Soon to be posted on my AO3 account as well ❤️

Buttercups and Buttresses

Jaskier was never very good at following instructions. It’d been true for as long as he could remember, much to the chagrin of his parents and tutors. Even his instructors at Oxenfurt had commented on his rebellious streak, lamenting how hard it made him to teach, though they also said it was an excellent trait for a bard.

It, combined with his insatiable curiosity, often got him into trouble. He supposed that by now he should have learned his lesson- when someone told him not to do something, there was usually a good reason for it. A good reason that he almost always ended up well acquainted with. It was never more true than with Witcher business.

Geralt had told him to stay with Roach. Told him that the monster he was hunting was too dangerous for Jaskier to follow into the abandoned and ruined castle. Jaskier hadn’t listened. In his defense, Geralt said that about every monster hunt. Drowners? Too dangerous. Manticore? Too dangerous. Warg pack? That’s right, too dangerous. How was Jaskier supposed to know that this time he actually meant it? Maybe if Geralt had sat down and explained what Huldra were and what they did, Jaskier wouldn’t have found himself in this situation.

Which was braiding wildflowers into the hair of something that looked like a beautiful woman. That didn’t sound bad, but Jaskier had no control over his actions, mindlessly staring at the dark, overgrown hole in the woman’s back as her tail curled possessively around his wrist, like a shackle. He could only guess this must be the monster Geralt had come to slay, in which case he wished the Witcher would hurry up and get on with it- mud was starting to seep into his breeches, making his kneeling position quite uncomfortable.

“...Dammit Jaskier!” He can hear Geralt growl from somewhere to his right, but his body’s attention remains firmly on the handful of buttercups and daisies he’s plaiting into the silken locks before him. The woman- or whatever she is- gives a hiss of displeasure, her tail uncurling from Jaskier’s wrist.

“That’s enough, bard.” Her voice is a silken purr, and his body immediately stills, the flowers falling out of his lax grip. “Be a good boy and stay.” The last word freezes his body, and Jaskier hates being told what to do, but he’s powerless. All he can do is watch helplessly as she stands, presumably facing Geralt.

“Release him.” Geralt says, his voice cold. What sort of expression is he wearing, Jaskier wondered. Was it blank, like usual? Or was his brow furrowed in anger, eyes narrowed as he glares at the woman?

“Why should I, Witcher? I doubt you’ll spare me if I do… maybe I should kill him.” The woman’s voice is equally cold, and Jaskier isn’t too fond of the way this conversation is suddenly going. He’d like to be able to say something, maybe try and convince her that really, killing him wouldn’t be worth it, but he still had no control over his damn body. She could at least let him look up, instead of keeping his gaze fixed on the discarded flowers. Oh who was he kidding, they were weeds, growing in the ruins of some ancient castle’s garden… it felt terribly poetic, and if he could have, he would have immediately started to write a song mourning the past glory of the buildings and how noble they must have looked, with their crenellations and buttresses, and all those other fancy architectural terms.

He was already composing the first verse, something about red gabled roofs reflected in a pond when the woman gave a shriek, turning towards Jaskier and oh dear, maybe he should have been paying attention. There was a flash of golden light- one of Geralt’s signs- and the woman was thrown back. Frustratingly, her hold didn’t loosen. So his gaze was still fixed on the ground as he heard the thud of boots running, the monster’s hiss. It sounded exciting and dramatic and he couldn’t see it.

How often did he get the chance to see Geralt actually fight a monster? Not often enough, and he was stuck staring at a pile of weeds. He wanted to howl in outrage, but, as before, nothing came of it. Then there was a screech, followed by a wet-sounding slice and then a sickening thud. Instantly, the tight feeling left, and he was able to move freely. Jaskier looked up just as Geralt walked over, sheathing his silver sword. He was scowling, which would have made a lesser man run, but not Jaskier. He greeted the Witcher with a smile.

“Thank you Geralt! It was dreadfully boring, being her slave. Was that the Huldra?” He chatted on, standing up with a groan- his poor breeches would be stained with grass and dirt forever- and these were brand new!

“I told you to stay with Roach.” Geralt snapped back, running a critical eye over Jaskier. “...She could have killed you.” Ah. So he had been worried.

“But she didn’t! All's well that ends well, I suppose. I have you to thank for that!”

“Hmm.”

“‘You’re welcome, Jaskier, I’m glad you aren’t hurt.’ And if you were just better at telling me about the monsters, maybe I wouldn’t get into so much trouble! Because you didn’t tell me she could hypnotize me to do her bidding, you didn’t tell me anything! I just saw a lovely young lady wandering about where a monster was. Yes, I realize she had a tail and pointed ears and a giant hole in her back but I didn’t notice that.” Jaskier rambled on as they walked out of the ruins, picking his lute up from where he had dropped it and starting on that song from earlier.

“All that remains are weeds and ruins,

Crimson stained curtains under red gabled roofs,

Ashy remains of those from long ago,

And monsters who hunt those who dare go.”

...He’d work on it.

#fff34 #flash fiction friday #flash fic friday #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #gerskier #the witcher fanfiction #netflix’s the witcher #jaskier #geralt x dandelion #geralt of rivia

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toruhalo · 4 years

Text

Psychotic (2/?)

Pairings: Ledger!Joker x Female OC

Wordcount: 1578

Warnings: explicit language, murderous thoughts, manipulation?

previous chapter: 1

next chapter: 3

A/N: ngl the last paragraph got me a little hot under the collar whew and i also threw in an actual quote he says in the movie who can guess it? lol

Violet woke up to the distinctive sound of a keypad beeping and metal door creaking. Flashing her sleep-heavy eyes completely open, thinking it was her door, she abruptly sat up in the bed. She blinked wearily to see a flashlight beam in the cell across from hers, which in hand occupied the infamous Joker. The tall grimy dark blonde-green haired man stepped into the hallway with his hands bound together in handcuffs, followed by an officer. The Joker's brown eyes briefly met her broad blue ones before looking ahead. The unique pair hastily shuffled out of the quiet hallway, and into the therapy ward.

The night before after her conversation with the Joker, they had naturally fallen into a comfortable silence. She felt as if there was a weight lifted off her shoulders, as cliché as it may seem. He didn't criticize her, because he had his flaws as well. She knew the Joker was manipulative, but something about him reeled her in.

The sun began rising on the horizon, causing rays of orange light to gleam through the barred window. As if on cue, there was an insistent knock on the metal door frame.

"Stand up, hands on the wall where I can see 'em," A security guard grumbled.

She hastily jumped up and promptly placed her palms on the brick wall. The uniformed man carefully approached her and secured her small hands together behind her back into handcuffs. Coincidentally, he guided them within the same hallway Joker was led into. Passing several empty rooms, there was only one occupied. Violet peeked inside while passing to see Joker handcuffed to a chair, sitting comfortably in front of a blonde psychiatrist. She felt a slight ache in her chest at the unwelcome sight. It faded instantly after the guard had tugged her to keep moving forward in the unnerving hallway.

She was placed in a room similar to the one she saw Joker in, also being handcuffed to the chair.

"I don't think those are necessary, Lyle," a new voice spoke.

A dark-skinned woman with a white lab coat walked into the room, taking a seat across from Violet. The guard, Lyle, slowly took off the cuffs and backed into the hallway.

"Hello, Miss Wilde. I'm Doctor Joan Leland, but you may call me Joan if that makes you more comfortable," the doctor smiles, "I'm your psychiatrist from now on." Violet felt suspicious, as all her past psychiatrists or therapists were not as nice as this woman.

"H-hello."

Joan smiles politely, "You've been here for almost a week now, how do you feel about Arkham?"

"I-It's okay, but s-some people scare m-me."

"Like whom, if I may ask?"

"S-scarecrow, and other p-people."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but rest assured they can't harm you," she flips through her notes, "Have you made any friends yet?"

"I-I think so," Violet pulls her striped sleeves over her hands.

Joan notices the action and writes on her notepad. "Who are these potential friends?"

"A-a man named S-Sharpener... and the Joker."

Doctor Joan's pen stops mid-sentence on the paper. She lifts her eyes, "Pardon?"

"T-the Joker?"

The doctor sighs and sets her pen down. "Miss Wilde, if you wish to recover from your sickness, I recommend you not speak to that man. I detect no signs of him changing. My colleague has been attempting to spark a light but to no avail... he stays the same."

"Y-yes ma'am." Violet could feel tears forming and hung her head. She genuinely did not know if she wanted to become a better person; she often dreams about killing her mother and anyone who stood in her way. As for the Joker, she felt she had a connection with him beginning to form. The thought of not talking to him again makes her furious.

"Okay. I apologize for getting firm with you." Joan flips through her notes once again. "So, the first step for your rehabilitation is to understand and come to terms with why you're here..."

The security guard named Lyle escorted Violet back to her cell from her session with Doctor Leland. Violet noticed before walking inside that the Joker's room had lightened up a bit, maybe the overhead light bulb was fixed, she thought. Settling into her bed, she saw the Joker lounging on his own. His arms were behind his head, eyes closed, and humming to himself. He was a strange, happy man... and handsome.

"How was therapy, V?"

Violet shook herself out of her thoughts to see him sitting cross-legged and staring intently at her. Her face flushed red and pulled her knees to her chest.

"F-fine. How w-was yours, J?"

He smirked and leaned back on his hands.

"Same old, same old. I wish I had more... excitement around here. Guess I uh... have you."

Violet smiled behind her kneecaps.

"Who's your psychiatrist?" Violet asked.

"A lovely woman named Harleen Quinzel..." the Joker paused after seeing Violet's face drop, "It's called sarcasm, dollface. You uh ever heard of it?" He smirked after licking his scarred lips.

Violet softly let out a laugh, "I know, I'm just n-not very fond of her I-I guess."

"You've uh... never met her, doll," Joker said with a knowing look on his perfectly sculpted face.

"There's just s-something about her that I don't like, I c-can't explain it."

"Fair enough." He sits back up, stretching his back. "Ya know, there's something about you too... that I like."

Weeks passed of Violet following the same routine within the asylum. Therapy in the wee hours of the morning, talk to Joker, optional showering, recreational activities, eat lunch or dinner while conversing with Sharpener, and talk to Joker again before falling asleep. Violet rarely saw the Joker out of his cell, because he 'preferred being alone, but you're an exception'.

Violet wasn't one to anger easily, but one fateful morning on her way to see Doctor LeLand, she witnessed something that made her skin boil. Doctor Quinzel was hugging the Joker, and he was hugging back. Violet barely said a word to anyone the rest of the day, not even to Joker or Sharpener. Tears would form every time the unforgettable image would appear in her head, instantly making her even more frustrated. Why was she behaving like this? Why couldn't she be the one hugging him?

Later in the evening, Violet was keeping to herself, trying to make sense of her feelings. The Joker had tried gaining her attention, yet she always brushed him off with an excuse. She felt as though her brain was going to implode from overuse and intense emotions. She desperately wanted to believe he felt the same for herself, yet that was impossible; he remained a notorious manipulator who harbors no emotion.

Then why did he hug Doctor Quinzel back?

"I can uh... see smoke coming out of your pretty little ears, dollface."

His comment made her blush intensely. Was he watching her this whole time?

"Care to share with the class on what uh happened today to turn you into Oscar the Grouch?" He chuckled.

"Nothing happened..." Violet mumbled.

The Joker smacked his lips and made no further comment. Violet laid within her bed, tugging the covers over her head. She could hear shuffling and footsteps, yet didn't look to see the source of the noise. The keypad to her door beeped, followed by her door opening and closing. Violet ripped the covers away, only to see the Joker standing inside her room.

"Hello..." The Joker smiled widely.

Violet's heart was thumping so loudly within her chest, she knew Joker could hear it. After all, he was only three feet away from her.

"H-how'd you get in here?" She whisper-shouted.

"Never ask a magician his secret, V," he said while sitting beside her, never breaking eye-contact.

Violet swallowed loudly and looked at the floor, "A guard might come..."

"Nobody's coming. I uh... have this place wrapped around my greasy finger."

The Joker brought his legs up on the bed, to sit criss-cross, head resting on his hands to look directly at Violet.

"W-what?" Violet tried containing her smile.

"Oh... nothing important..." he said while looking around the cell walls.

Violet gently shoved the Joker's shoulder but turned her head after realizing what she did. She could hear him giggling to himself. "Don't tease me, sir," she laughed along with him.

"Ooh sir? That's new," he cackled while revealing his laugh lines around his eyes, "Will you tell me what was uh making you so crabby?"

"W-why do you want to know?"

He slowly leaned in, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's just... annoying." He broke out into a fit of laughter after seeing the astonished look on Violet's pale face. "I'm just uh...poking fun, dollface."

After his chuckles began to dwindle, Violet decided to come out with it. "She hugged you... and y-you hugged her back."

The Joker squinted his eyes, "That's what's been uh bothering you? It wasn't even real... so uh, no need to worry your pretty little head, doll," he said while leaning back on the bed and closing his eyes.

"Not real?" Violet questioned.

Joker sat up and looked deep into Violet's blue eyes once more. He lifted his hands and squeezed her cheeks together, her chin in his palm. "I'm uh... waiting. Waiting for the right moment to reel us out of this... prison. And she... she is just a stepping stone to achieve this. Now, when I say it's nothing personal, you should know... I'm telling the truth."

#Heath Ledger Joker #joker #joker x reader #joker x oc #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x oc #joker x female reader #joker fanfiction #the dark knight #batman

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sugar-petals · 5 years

Text

Your First Time With Yoongi

warnings ⚠️ femdom!reader, bondage, slapping, masturbation, name-calling, cunnilingus, wow yoongi gets NASTY

word count: 2.6k | hc

↳ ♡ NOTE › for anon who also inspired the ‘first kiss with yoongi’ post. look what you’ve done. writing this made me lose my cool. let’s dive right into it.

you’ll probably be fooling around watching miscellaneous videos from your feed

and sorting through some clothes for the upcoming friday dinner

at the cozy italian restaurant next door

when you see yoongi come home looking, maybe not concerned, but more lost in thought

it takes a day or more until you ask him about it

brooding yoongi always means he’s weighing the big decisions

that you already know

but how it could possibly be something sexual you didn’t expect at first

because the only thing he says is that your second monthiversary is coming up this sunday

you reply yoongi that’s such a funny term

he says yeah it just made him think

it takes another day until you realize that he’s been unobtrusive letting you read between the lines how you see fit

and make that decision vice versa

it is about time to bring the relationship to a next level

yoongi sees the way you look at him

the last few weeks were proof enough he was worth giving it a go. you both knew what you were in for

as of now, you did make out a little at hoseok’s last halloween party (yoongi was in such a cute ghost costume). and kissed a whole lot during your vacation in london all lovey-dovey. but you didn’t have a chat

so you nudge him at breakfast. what about friday?

after going out, you’ll have a whole evening to talk things over at home. no stress no pressure

agreed says your boyfriend

friday comes, you get a nice spot at giorgio’s rooftop terrace restaurant

literally it’s perfect to set the tone, the night sky is clear

after splitting the bill on antipasti for you and chili pepper pizza for yoongi the mood is right for some intimate talk and there’s no wine needed

but not in front of giorgio’s other guests alright

you return home flirting

to sit in your tiny courtyard garden with the fairy lights on

as long as no mosquitoes show up you have a long and frank conversation with a lot of surprising turns...

monthiversary sex on sunday it is

three cheers on that!

yoongi is giddy all saturday long and takes ten minutes more in the bathroom than usual, and five more in the shower

as if he isn’t dapper and groomed already

sunday afternoon, you do feel your hands getting a little sweaty yourself

the time has come

this will be exciting

you both prepare the living room for the evening, equip the center table with everything needed, eat some light snacks and drink plenty of water beforehand

the sun sets boom a leonardo dicaprio dvd goes right into the player

you’re both comfy on the sofa, intertwined, it’s fucking cute

you feed yoongi some more pretzel sticks

he makes you laugh

and nuzzles into the nape of your neck cuz cat behavior

the atmosphere slowly changes when the movie does

with leo getting all frisky and sweaty on screen, yoongi’s hands also begin to fumble at your hips, your skirt

and eventually

with you just murmuring just enough hot ideas in his ears

slip down to spend their time caressing between your legs

yep yep

the party is getting started

his hands are only shaky until they find the right spot.

a pianist is merely on edge until he hits his favorite key indeed. and yoongi is that pianist.

you can tell by his movements how he considers you music. now let that sink in

you’re his favorite tune

RIP panties. those huge bony fingers know how to soak them

phew

they have endurance, too

you already know that this will be a passionate night

leo goes through twenty character arcs on screen while yoongi is still flicking those tips

really. getting. into it. stimulating you with one, two, three fingers at once, curling, rubbing, stroking, dipping

miss clit says thank you

no finger cramps in sight with mister ‘miraculous’ min yoongi

meanwhile, poor leo falls victim to the pause button

you repeat the safeword to each other

‘two’

(because second monthiversary ok)

and here we go

flustered yoongi sits up, you pulling that FG shirt off, him then leaning against the backrest of the couch with legs splayed laxly

you climbing on top face to face

hot hot hot

yoongi wants restraints, he said. restraints he gets. a dozen feet of loose hemp rope are waiting on the table already.

you bind his hands before the chest, mainly knotting the rope around the wrists with an extra simple tie that keeps it foolproof.

you do have safety shears on the table also

it took some time to remember the knot but it was some interesting stuff to learn

and... we’re talking yoongi’s sexy hands

what won’t you do just to see them tied fuck yes

a kiss follows

long, deep, and increasingly lewd

only interrupted by you taking off your top and panties. the skirt stays on although it’s getting a little shoved up

yoongi remains seated as he is, starstruck as hell cuz your body has him fucked up

in the meantime you turn around to press your ass right against yoongi’s crotch

with a some more audacity right there

not taking any chances beyond this point

the poor guy

steady ruts and gyrating are sure to fry his brain with you taking all the time in the world to rub your core all over his growing boner

the skirt only provides more friction to the whole game

“you’re so cruel, please, oh my god”

someone’s worried he blows his load way too early

well oops

“take it. lil’ sucker”

you gaze back over your shoulder. sweet, suffering yoongi has his eyes closed and bites right down on his lip.

he looks more concentrated than when he produces something in the studio i’m telling you

with your every push and rub, the tent in his blue shorts gets more upright, the fabric even more tense

and his voice whinier

and your pussy much wetter

that’ll be quite a bit of laundry tomorrow

with every new grind you realize

better have mercy and slip a condom on before he does cum in his pants

regardless you decide that your new favorite hobby is to tease the living hell out of him

by just how stiff he really is you can tell there are in fact two people enjoying that

holy shit when you get his pants off there’s a sight to behold

honey boy loves the cruel girls

it’s no secret yoongi is a fan of all things technology but damn he really is a master with the electric razor those are some pube gardening skills on fire

and he smells so good

and that juicy dick

is just one of a kind

UGH

the lube that’s been waiting on the couch table... will have to keep waiting forever

hallelujah you’re dripping

“that’s... not going to be a long ride, yoongi”

“i, i know”

(just how much of a han solo is he!)

“should we wait for a minute?”

“probably better”

the boy gets the best of you it seems

oh, sweet horniness.

a two minute TLC break gets the racing pulse down and the suspense up

admittedly just cuddly stuff with yoongi doesn’t make it any better

he. really. smells. so. good.

sandalwood, jasmine, something herbal, whatever it is, that mix makes your mind implode

“yoongi. i want you.”

so bad.

just seeing him with his big dark teddy eyes and bound hands is kind of a fucking lot to take in okay

not to mention his voice just getting that extra deep edge when he tells you he wants you too

FUCK

the two minutes are so hard to bear, you just want to get going and ride him and hear all those slutty moans

and corrupt his every inch

as per friday evening you know yoongi doesn’t plan to fall short on the vocal department whatsoever and who can blame him. his raspy baritone is a surefire way to make your thighs tremble

and by virtue of profession, rappers aren’t known for staying silent when it comes to issues they’re passionate about aren’t they

rolling down the rubber you grabbed from the table is challenging enough because good heavens you’re touching him this way for the first time it’s just hard to believe and hard to the touch

his breath accelerates big time

you’re careful but also firm enough to ground him

“ok, shall we?”

yoongi’s desperate hum in reply comes with two quick nods

slow, slow, slow, take it slow you say to yourself

but your wetness doesn’t lie.

yoongi’s piano hands were like an open sesame to your walls

they went pop

let’s get down to business bring that cock

you crave that filling BAD

when you align and slip him in with one not so steady hand cuz jesus christ you’re completely high-strung

those teddy eyes are on you like big brother

because yoongi monitors hard for any discomfort you might have

he probably realizes that he’s not a desert-dry 9:50 PM tampon on the fifth period day when the backsides of your thighs cushion down on his loins

WHEW, THAT SLIP

better than any conditioner out there

he’s in

it stuffs you so well, you can’t help but moan out

yoongi’s hypervigilance still hasn’t entirely faded though

“is that okay, does it hurt? is it—”

“shush, bun. watch.” testing, you give yoongi a good first bounce, far up and down, that baywatch slow motion... mother of god, your labia have a sweet time stretching around him. “it’s very okay.”

“a-alright,” he says

oh god yeah

another bounce on that. it’s already an addictive feeling

that’s what yoongi meant by ‘seesaw’

you rest your hands on his shoulders — and they’re made for that, i mean they’re just that broad — and really feel into how he glides in so nicely

with a slick and noisy plunge

gotta make sure to really savor all of those facial expressions from him ‘cause they’re pretty damn intense you have to give him that. never did you even fathom how his eyebrows could just escalate like this

yoonaerys targaryen!

that cock’s too good

so sleek. and comfortable

advantages of having a perky lil dick

he fills out your walls so perfectly

this is getting so heated, watching his body become so twitchy, his tied hands

with all those red blotches at his neck.

it doesn’t take many more movements, no matter how playful the edge

that you have to pull off and enter phase 2 of TLC breaks with yoongi’s dick resting against his stomach all sensitive

this time you french kiss

that’s how you know yoongi is not just a sucker. he’s a sucker

obsessed with nibbling at your lips and guzzling your saliva like wtf that’s not a break yoongi that’s making your girlfriend cum like new year’s eve fireworks

are all daegu boys freaky like that what is in the groundwater there?

you have to stop his hungry mouth and take a long damn breath

why is yoongi such a sex bomb

though what’s not to love about it

seriously you can’t take it much longer and he sees that

“you wanna use your fingers, babe?”

“if you allow me,” he licks his lips, which means adding fuel to the fire, he can’t help it.

“say please.”

“please.”

you start to fiddle with the rope knots

yoonaerys targaryen soon has free hands

rope marks suit him so well, that shit just turns you on even more

time to switch it up then the final is around the corner

changing spots on the sofa, you recline, legs apart

yoongi slowly rubs you off with his flat palm to keep the pressure light

and not to overstrain his wrists too soon

then comes the infamous naughty tongue lowering down to your pelvis... nipping, swift and staccato. you have rightfully dreaded this moment because geez he hooks you on it

next comes

the tip of his cock. i know right, good grief. guided by keen hands, rubbed against your clit, patting it, poking it, glazing it until it’s all coated all wet and pulsing like mad, what the fuck yoongi

he makes you completely swollen

and repeat

it’s a triple t(h)reat technique adapted straight from the realms of fiery hell

palm, tongue, cock rubbing against you. palm, tongue, cock. palm, tongue, cock.

YOONGI HAS YOU SCREAMING AND WINDING

that demonic trick is guaranteed not to go on for very long

point of no return says hiya, i’m here to mess you up girl

next turn his curling tongue comes to visit and dips between your labia

you can’t hold back anymore

and blow up in his face

whatever control there has been in your legs has now shut down entirely

yoongi has to deal with the full dose of slowly oozing jizz cuz boy he just buries his face even deeper once he sees the contractions starting

at this point he has solidified his sucker reputation

mister miraculous min just keeps eating and slurping while you cum your soul out. the pleasure is like a current taking over

making you curse

until you’re running of breath

with ‘point of no return’ handing the baton to ‘dizzy overstimulation’ you pull yoongi’s head out from between your thighs by the hair

yoongi kneels before you ruined

man... his face is dripping

he even got cum in his lashes

“shit, yoongi!”

“please. punish, i want, i, please”

seldom that yoongi’s rapper mind says sorry i’m out like that

looking back it makes sense. who orders a flaming chili pepper pizza for date night but a grade a masochist

cue friday evening protocol

you fumble off the very slippery condom and grip his cock by the base. hard.

with your other hand just in reach of his face

in comes a ringing slap to his right cheek

“a—ah, ah! more!”

slut yoongi is back in town and his cock really has to stay strong

because holy hell you jerk him off fast

getting greedy and erratic

yoongi cries out his orgasm with a whole white milky mess landing on his stomach, his thighs, your hand, your skirt, who knows he might have shot a constellation into the sky if it wasn’t for the ceiling

with the last drops gushing out, a giant fatigue pulls the plug on him

oh man

his hair goes in all directions. his face is slapped red, his wrists are marked, he came all over himself.

100% sex wreck

you can barely keep yourself steady either

but you can at least reach for the soon-to-be-dirty-laundry towel on the table

and clean up your salivating puffy teddy

only to pull him close to you

two fucks covered in sweat all slack on the sofa, worn out

but happy

yoongi keeps on babbling and breathing hard

seeking out closeness to your belly

you let him lie down his head on there

time to pull a blanket over the two of you right there once everything cools down

yoongi gazes up at you a bit cheeky even if he’s super tired

“kinda know what you’re thinking”

“that’s what a monthiversary has to be like”

“nothing to add”

“except: repeat tomorrow”

wrapping up the weekend all sloppy is a good luck charm for monday

“my bad. of course”

“you’re just amazing, you know that.”

“i was gonna say that to you”

safe to say that guy has your heart

“so... same time, same place, different movie?”

“sure babe i’m in”

while you both doze off, intertwined just as before

you can’t help but think

man that was life-changing

#bts smut #bts headcanons #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts #yoongi headcanons #yoongi first time #long post

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avatar-mom · 4 years

Text

The Avatar Legacy Fan Panel SDCC 2020 News

Hello Friends! This is a LONG update. I hope everyone has enough energy to get through it all.

The Avatar Legacy Fan Panel put in a proposal for Comic-Con @ Home 2020!

If chosen, we will need to produce a Zoom/digital panel for SDCC to host online. Our production will be due by mid-June (June 20th or so). GASP! That’s only 2 weeks to create/plan/organize/ and produce a digital panel! The panel will not go live until around the usual time of SDCC in July. If chosen, SDCC will announce the actual day our pre-recorded panel will go live on their channels/site. We will update you if we receive that information.

In the meantime, the proposal I submitted to Comic-Con @ Home 2020 included everything our panels are known for. Our live fan panel format always includes a Fan Artist Spotlight, comic reading with cast and crew, cosplay contest, and a Q&A. A few of these sections seem very ambitious for a virtual panel ( and honestly, might not happen…), but we are up for the challenge! Besides, this online format gives us the opportunity to invite participants from all over the world!

Now, to make the most out of the precious little time we have, I need to get started ASAP. So today (June 8th 2020), I am putting out the 1st update to the fandom. More details and updates will follow soon! Please share this message and encourage others to share and follow for updates. The planning will roll out in phases.

Phase 1: Plan/announce the possibility of a panel

Phase 2: Assemble/organize resources for all areas of the panel

Phase 3: Record/edit panel and submit to SDCC

Phase: 4 Compile/announce final votes for the winning fan favorite cosplay

Welcome to Phase 1! In this phase we are not only communicating the possibility of a panel, but we are also broadcasting a request for participants!

We need:

A Fan Artist!

The mission of the panel is to celebrate the passion of the fans. This is why we always include a fan artist in every panel. Fan art is much more than 2D drawings. We welcome sculptures, animation, textile art, mixed media art, paper art, game art, writers, musicians, metal smiths, costume makers… oh gosh! If you are not sure if your art could be considered, just email me to ask! Also, you do not have to be an amateur. The series has been around for over 15 years and has inspired so many professionals.

The fan artist who joins us should have many examples of Avatar the Last Airbender/The Legend of Korra fan art. The artist should also be willing to appear on the digital panel and share how the series has inspired their craft. To apply for the Fan Artist Showcase, please email me @ [email protected], subject line, “Fan Artist Showcase”. I will respond with some questions and details.

Cosplay Contestants!

We love Avatar Cosplayers. The fandom is never afraid to try new ways of interpreting characters or engineering cosplays for challenging characters like Appa or the Water Spirit! We know that there is nothing better than seeing a cosplay live and in person, however, that’s not the world we live in right now. So, we are asking hopeful contestants to create a 1 minute video of your cosplay and send a zipped MP4 version to us via email.

If your video passes our content screening, we will assign your video a number, add your description, and then host the video on our YouTube channel for fan voting. For more information and contest instructions, click on the following link: Cosplay Contest Rules: Avatar Legacy Fan Panel. Please follow the link for more information about the process. If you submit a video, I will assume that you have read the requirements and agree to the terms of the contest. Because there is a short time frame, I ask that you contact me with questions before you submit. [email protected]

Tips for creating your cosplay video:

1. Make sure the video allows viewers to see the entire cosplay

2. Be sure to record in a well-lit area.

3. It’s ok if your video goes under a minute, but do not go over a minute.

4. You only have 1 minute, so use it to show not only your cosplay, but also your character’s personality. Example: If you are cosplaying the Cabbage Merchant, say something or act like the Cabbage Merchant (MY CABBAGES!!!).

5. Check out videos from our past panels to see how contestants showed off their cosplays for our panelists.

Vote for your favorite! Voting will be open from June 8th - July 27th at 1pm 2020 (CST). To vote, go to The Avatar Legacy Fan Panel YouTube channel. We just updated the channel, so it’s squeaky clean and ready for contest videos. In the beginning of the contest, there may only be a few videos uploaded. We will do our best to receive, screen, and upload entries as soon as possible. Be sure to subscribe to the channel for updates.

When videos become available, browse and enjoy your fellow fans as they celebrate their wonderful cosplays. To vote for a video, click the video’s thumbs up/ “like” icon under the video. We ask that you only vote for your favorite. However, if you cannot choose, feel free to like a few more. Please try not to like them all (even though I am sure they will all have exciting merits!). If you change your mind later, you can change your vote up until July 27th at 1pm (CST). Comments on all videos will be turned off. We will stop accepting and uploading videos after we receive 35 qualifying entries. The contest ends July 27th at 1pm 2020 (CST). If there is a tie, we will use additional YouTube data or have a special run off to break the tie.

Questions for the Q&A!

We know one of the best reasons to visit a panel is to ask questions of people you admire. What was their inspiration? What was their process? How do they improve their craft? Because the panel will be pre-recorded, we are asking that fans email questions after we announce the guest line up. We will be accepting questions for only a few days after that announcement. Then we will hunt through all the fan questions and pick out a handful that we feel will add to the theme and tone of the panel. If your question is chosen, you will be contacted and given the opportunity to receive a small prize. We do not have the final panel line up yet, so keep us on your radar. We will announce the line up when everything is approved and ready!

Whew... that’s it for now ;) Thank you for reading through all of that. Cross your fingers and wish us luck! We have NEVER done anything like this before. Going digital with this panel gives us the opportunity to finally realize a dream of a cosplay contest judged by panelists AND fans (something that has been difficult to do on location). Also, the fan panel’s cosplay contest can include contestants from all over the world! If it goes well, we will definitely consider including a virtual cosplay contest component for all future fan panels.

The best part is that the panel will be available for EVERYONE that has access to the internet. It breaks my heart every year when fans are turned away because we have a 500 capacity room, but 800 fans waited in line to enter. Thank you all so very much! You are all incredibly special to me and I am wishing you health, strength, and peace <3

p.s. if there were typos, i will fix them later. hehehe...

#sdcc2020 #theavatarlegacyfanpanel avatarthelastairbender thelegendofkora

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