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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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Would it be possible to read what happened during Phantom's mating season peak in The Bakery is a Front from Tim's POV? I just think the pure baffled energy that Tim would be radiating from being taken care of so nicely by his hot kidnapper from another dimension would be hilarious. Really the whole kidnapping had to have been a better experience than some of the galas Tim has been forced to attend; at least definitely the best kidnapping he has ever experienced, 10/10 would be kidnapped again.

It happens so fast.

One second he's suffering through Danny's overdose, and the next, the dead body in his arms is leaping over Bruce and trapping Damian in an iron-clad grip.

Jason and Dick react the fastest, but it does nothing to someone who can density shift. Tim can only watch Danny sobs on top of Damian, speaking in a strange dialect. It sounded like cracking ice every time he wailed.

"Unhand me!" Damian grunts snaping a knife into Danny's side. Despite the apparent red spot growing on Danny's shirt, the other man doesn't flatter in his movements in the slightest. He squeezes harder, but it doesn't seem like he's trying to hurt Damian. If anything, it looks like he's...cradling him? Yes, it did in fact, seem like Danny is attempting to cradle Damian like a baby.

What on earth-?

"Shit! Danny put him down!" A new voice shouts. Three women and a man burst into the room. Tim has yet to learn where they come from, but Bruce wastes no time throwing a pair of Batbolas at them. It hits the target on the man and the red hair women, tangling their legs and knocking them off.

The man yelps while the woman grunts, throwing her arms in front of her in an obviously trained reaction. She can't stop herself from falling all the way, but her reflex is nothing to scoff at.

She doesn't seem to care as she shouts at the drug dealer. "Daniel Fenton, you let that boy go right now! Are you listening to me?"

"Danny is not here right now."

Tim jerks his head in his fake boss' direction watching in horror as the man's usual blue starts glowing green, and his dark hair bleeds into white. There is an unnatural glow emanating from under his skin that makes him appear so beautiful Tim loses his train of thought for a moment.

This transformation seems a bit too much to just be a meta-gene activation. Is Danny....not human?

One of the women- who looks like a younger female version of Danny- blasts him with a zap of green from her hand. It reminds him of Starfire, but while his friend's blast is nothing but heat, the green of the girl seems more light than flame.

He drops, unconscious, letting go of Damian. The newcomers relax when the goth-looking one kneels next to him and presses her hands against his neck. Danny appears returns to the human one Tim is used to in another quick blink of an eye. "No pulse!"

"Thank goodness." The red hair, one says, sitting up. It's then that Tim realizes it's Jazz. The one that talked down Jason and the rest of Danny's men not even two weeks ago. So neither left of the siblings left overseas? How had they tricked Babs? "No pulse means he's still in his mating season. Quick we have to get him quarantined again before-"

"You are not going anywhere!" Jason growls, leveling his gun at her. Jazz blinks down the barrel, then raises a brow. It reminds Tim of Alfred when the man found his hidden coffee machine- disgusted, disappointed, but most of all, unimpressed.

His brother sneers. "I want to know what is happening here and I want to know now!"

"Can you not read?" Jazz returns, speaking as if an annoying customer demands a service she can not provide. "I put up signs that clearly said Quarantine do not enter around Danny's house. Why do you think that is? Oh, maybe, it means to leave this area alone."

"You bats are lucky we got here when we did," The man says, trying to twist out his binds. It's not going too well, as a few electric mobiles slip out of his pockets. "The only way to snap the human side of Danny out of his daze is by making him deny his obsession which is something I hate doing."

What?

"I hate hitting him too" The girl with the energy blasts pouts "I makes my stomach turn."

She twists at her waist seconds before Damian's foot swings through the air, where her head was only seconds before. She sidesteps his three other attacks, face twisting into a sneer. "Hey! Back off! We don't share the same obsession!"

"Silence wrench!" Damian sneers, which makes her even angrier.

"Make me, you wannabe pirate!" the girl hisses, and it's then that Tim realizes they may even be the same age. She is doing a masterful job of barely being out of Damian's deadly reach.

"Don't hurt him, Elle!" Jazz shouts, "Things are already complicated enough-"

The goth woman screams as she is suddenly launched into the air, slamming into Bruce and cutting off the redhead. Dick rushes to the now-standing Danny, aiming a barrage of attackers that the man easily slips through. Bruce throws the woman off him, slamming her against the wall and knocking her out in the same action. The man screams as Jason shoots out his kneecaps and Tim-

Tim suddenly finds himself unable to think as large green eyes overtake his vision. Danny's eyes and hair are bleeding in and out of different colors as the man stares at him. "Mate...."

Tim's mouth dries, and his eyes are drinking in the man. He knows he should be doing something, but Tim can't remember what he should be-.

"TIM!" Dick screams, snapping him out of his daze, and....oh, Tim is falling. Danny- or whatever is pretending to be Danny- has pushed him by pressing his hands against his chest and shoving him through a portal.

Danny is watching his drop with a soft smile, that is at odds with Jason appearing at his side with guns blazing.

Tim drops onto a pile of soft snow- or what he thinks is snow. It looks like it, soft like a fresh full pillow, but it's not cold. If anything, it's the perfect temperature to nap in.....he's exhausted. When was the last time Tim slept? He can't remember.

His eyes are getting heavy. His body is going boneless.....he has never been so comfortable in his whole life....is this what it feels like to rest on a cloud...

Tim blinks, around the room trying to fight the urge to give into the darkness, and he notes that he seems to be in a castle made entirely of ice and snow...like Danny's home.....he also appears to be in a tower? The windows are shaped like one.

Tim takes note of the sky being a bright green color which is..odd, but that's all he can think clearly as he finally goes under.

_________________________________________

It feels like he only closes his eyes for a second when Tim is startled awake by a scream of rage. Jerking away, he sits up, trying to gather his bearings. He needs to find out where he is and where his gear is.

Tim pulls on the crotcheted sweater he's been stuffed into, breathing a sigh of relief when he realizes his Red Robin outfit is still on underneath. He climbs out of the bed made entirely of snow, flickering his eyes about.

He's covered head to toe in other crotchety objects- pants, sweater, socks, gloves, a scarf, and a hat- all big enough to fit comfortably against him and his vigilante costume. Raising a hand to his face, he touches the smooth leather of his trusted mask.

Right. Danny let him keep his secret identity intake. That's... something.

He glances around his surroundings again, this time for sure, that his in some type of castle covered in ice. It's beautiful, like something out of a Disney movie with shiny crystal frozen designs everywhere. He carefully makes his way to the window, looking out into a far darker green of a sky.

He squints into the distance seeing acres and acres of a vast castle and land, but on the far right, there seems to be a drop....a cliff? Or the edge of this island. For you see, he could make out flouting doors and islands in the sky.

This differently wasn't his earth.

Danny, not being human, was becoming more and more plausible.

"Release me!" A voice echo. Damian.

Tim slams the door open, sprinting down the hall toward his younger brother's distress calls. It's a castle; even if everywhere he turns, it seems to be a frozen wonderland.

There are ice sculptures of Danny between every large ice pillar. They portray him as Tim usually is used to or as a being with a tail instead of legs mid-flight. There are portraits of various people hanging on the walls- he can make out Jazz and the others that busted into Danny's apartment- but there all encased in ice.

There are no guards, so when Tim sprints down a giant stairway, he is hyper-aware of his footsteps echoing on the cracking ice. He rounds the hallway, then stumbles to a stop at the sight before him.

It was Danny. At least, he thinks so. The being had a strong resemblance to him, but his skin had a slight blueish hue, his ears were pointed, his hair was pure white, he was glowing, and most of all, he didn't have legs.

The sculptures hadn't been a artistic choice Danny in this form had a tail and he was flying around a restrain Damian.

His brother was in a gaint baby doorway jumper, encased in what looked like a snow swaddle.

Damian is also covered head to toe in crochet clothing, but his Robin costume peaks from underneath it. Danny was flying around him, placing piles of snow on the ground around the struggling child, making noises like creaking ice and purring when he came close to pat Damian.

It also looked like Danny....was nesting with Damian in the center of it.

What in the world?

"I'll have your head!" Damian sneers as Danny gently places a bear beanie on his head. " I am not a child!"

"My baby" Danny coos, then starts making more cracking noise. He rubs his head against Damian like a cat which causes the boy to grimace.

Tim needs to get him out of there. He looks around for a weapon, but his gear doesn't seem near him. The only thing he can possibly use is the ice around the walls-

"Crackle, crack, Clank, Click!" Danny suddenly says in his face. He crossed the room at the same speed Bart would have, or maybe faster since he didn't even see a blur. Tim jerks back, but the glowing figure is already reaching out-.

He places a scarf around his neck with an adorable head tilt.

"Drake! Run! He'll swaddle you!"Damian screams, but Tim can't look away. He's so beautiful. Danny's bright green eyes, sparkling with the stars of the universe, and his lips are so full, he bets they would be perfect to kiss- is someone purring? Tim could fall asleep to that sound- it must be a white noise machine-!

He snaps his eyes open, shocked to find himself back in the original room.

Tim is back in the damn nest. Confused, he blinks around the room, noticing the sky is bright again and that he's tucked into the bed with great care. He's never felt more rest, so he knows he just spends hours sleeping.

He doesn't even remember getting moded, damn it.

""Red Robi- can you- where are you- report!" Tim's eyes widened when he realized Bruce's voice. It's his communicator! He scrambles out of the bed, straining his ears. "Re-Rob-in!""

There! His earpiece is in one of the ice crystals hanging from the ceiling. Miraculously it's still working, as he can barely make out Bruce's shouts. After four kicks of the crystal, he breaks it down, shattering it on the ground.

He quickly places it back into his ear. "Batman, I'm here!"

"Thank goodness!" An unknown woman says, making Tim flatter for only a moment. "Listen to me, my name is Sam, and right now, there is only one way to escape Danny's mating season without bloodshed. See, Phantom is in control right now, which means his obsession is at its highest. What does Danny not deem important enough to protect? Himself."

" We have to snap him out of it by having those under his protection stand up to him and....hit him. Anybody attacks will confuse Phantom so much the human side of Danny will be forced to take the front." Another female voice puts it. Jazz. She sounds unhappy, as she admits. "A punch to the head, or slap or something, just one from enough people under his protection will freeze Phantom for a moment."

Tim frowns. "I have no idea what you mean. How will that help get us away?"

"Well, we have a plan for that," A man says wearily. The one with all the electronics. "You may not like it...but we must get you to sacrifice yourself for Robin's freedom."

His siblings start shouting over the communicator but Jazz silence everyone with her explanation.

A very long explanation of ghosts, cores, and obsessions, but the gist is that Phantom and Danny's balance was disruptive, so the only way was to cause his human side to get clarification was by presenting Phantom with a paradox.

Phantom will protect all. Danny will allow anyone to hurt him because of his terrible self-esteem. Hence Phantom will not know if it should defend them when it's Danny in danger but it will pull at his core because something is still under attack in front of him.

However, as ghost king, Danny is crazy strong, so they need to attack with something Phantom would never try to defend himself from. His sister and two best friends suddenly slapping or punching him? Phantom would typically react by beating them away, but that would mean hurting the beings he exists to protect.

That's just the physical aspect of it too. Tim's sacrifice would pull at Danny's human emotions while Phantom would panic about needing to save Tim from the ghost he was sacrificed to. Which would be himself.

It should snap them both by tugging them in two different directions of their instincts.

Tim wonders if it will work-

He wakes up to Phantom purring and messaging his sore muscles. To his left is a feast of all of Tim's favorites. Even though he is the elite of Gotham, he's never been so pampered in his life.

Dang, it better work. Tim is getting far too comfortable in this castle. He may never want to leave.

"Phantom if you let my brother go ill be your mate."

"!" Phantom pauses then let's out a sound that sounds like twinkling bells glowing so bright he could be a star

"Only If you accept me as a sacrifice in exchange for my brother's freedom" Tim holds his break then jumps at the sound of shattering glass that comes from Phantom's mouth.

He blinks a few moments, fighting himself, until Phantom nods determined. "Mate will bring children. I need children."

"Ugh sure pal. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal"

It's a weird Tuesday.

Damian is home ten minutes later, and within the hour, Phantom overloads from the paradox.

Tim opens a portal home that night, and Danny sleeps through the rest of his mating season, going under when Phantom and he fights about Tim's fate.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The bakery is a front #phantom and Danny can not compute different ideas of protection #Tim falls in love again #Damian was no please #Tim's pov #Part 6

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remember-the-fanfics · 2 months

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My writing is off because I had a sugar rush starting and then it went everywhere it wasn't planned to go but I went with it

◇Set before the pilot only because Alastor would kill the man before he came inside because he lacked any manners.♧

(Y/n) was arguing with someone who didn't actually wanted to work while under contract, usually would happen in their own territory but the sinner had sought them out while at the hotel.

(Y/n) and Angel Dust was sitting in the lounge, talking about their day until a sinner rushed in, loudly requested to get out of their contract. (Y/n) quickly try to deescalate the situation.

"Look if you want out, join the hotel to better yourself-."

"I ain't doing this rainbow fruity bullshit! You're working me to hard, I want out!"

"You, exactly Timothy Johnson, work less than 32 a week. That's around 6 hour a day for a five day week because you get the weekend off." Said (Y/n), getting stern.

"I just wanted the housin' and free shit."

"You knew what you signed, Timothy. I gave you multiple times to say no, you and I both set up the time for you to work. You have an easy job!"

"Customers are assholes, they ain't being respectful to me!" He said, lying which (Y/n) knew the moment he spoke. The young overlord made sure customer services wasn't a nightmare it was on Earth, sinners that live in (Y/n)'s territory knew to be respectful to each other because (Y/n) would know if someone wasn't.

"Respect goes both ways, Timothy. I know you never worked customer service before but you should atleast know not to try and fight a kid." (Y/n) said, who sat up straight. "I've already have alot of complaints, 5 from that incident alone, I could move you some other job..?"

"I want out of our deal, I don't wanna work for you." Said Timothy crossing his arms, not letting go of the topic.

"I cannot, you still have four years left." (Y/n) said, tired of arguing with the man infront of someone. "It haven't even a month..."

"You said you had a free trail-!"

"The first week was it and You said you were fine then! I checked up on you every two days, making sure everything was fine and it was."

"(Y/n), maybe you should just let him go. He seems like a waste anyway." Said Angel Dust. "He doesn't want your free shit so just drop him."

"N-no! That shit is still mine!" Said Timothy.

"It will be when the contract is over." Said (Y/n). "I made all of this very clear during the whole thing. I explained it and let you read it over before you signed anything." They stood up looking confused at Timothy.

"I must of skimmed over some parts." He said nervously. "I just wanted a place to sleep! Not dealing with a kid, who thinks that they can boss adults around."

"Nothing is for free, you either join the hotel and better yourself or stay under contract." Said (Y/n) before Angel Dust tried to ask.

"What will make him stay at the hotel-."

"Quiet, addict!" Interrupted Timothy pointing at Angel Dust. "No one cares what you say."

"Speak to him like again and no one will ever hear you say anything again." Said (Y/n) before Timothy decided to dig himself a deeper hole with a stupid idea.

"Oh. You actually care for the idiots at the dusty ass shack?" Said Timothy laughing. "I can't believe that!"

(Y/n) just glared at the sinner, they had feeling where this would go if they didn't do anything.

"Listen." They said in a voice they don't usually use, getting closer to Timothy, becoming taller."If you don't leave and go find a hole to die in, I will personally hand your soul off to someone who would find good use for it and it will not be easy like what I've been letting you do."

They were invading his personal space, Timothy swore he saw them everywhere afterwards.

"Understand? Then leave."

With a meek nod of approval, Timothy bolted away. After (Y/n) returned to normal, dusted themself off.

"I keep forgetting that you're actually an Overlord." Said Angel Dust after collecting himself from what (Y/n) just did.

"Yea- uh. Yeah, ugh that voice messes with my throat to much. But I'm sorry that happen infront of you usually sinners would wait till I get back to pester me." Said (Y/n) sitting back down.

"5 dollars he pissed himself."

"You're on."

Timothy will return for vengeance later (tomorrow) also lore on how you died because I need to write it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #genz reader #like im already working on the next part #it wouldnt make sense for them to be together

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remember-to-be-gentle · 1 year

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Friend, I just screamed. SCREAMED.

How about this~ if I may request an Enji that happens to see a perfect little darling happening by and can't help himself...

...I'll happily write a request for you in exchange!

You'll get yours 😈 when I think of one

Subject: BNHA, Enji Todoroki aka Endeavor

Title: Future

Trigger Warning: Obsessive behavior, kidnapping, fantasizing, breeding (mentioned), Enji is a Karen confirmed

Enji fumed walking to his tailor. He had received a message from one of his sidekicks stating that his presence was "unnegotiable" at tonight's charity gala and worse, he needed a new suit within a handful of hours because he'd put on so much muscle mass that he'd burst out of his old one. It was turning out to be a rough and irritating day.

He shoved open the door to the shop, the little bell jingling to make his presence known--as if he needed it when his heavy footsteps.

A tiny figure popped up from behind the counter. "Just a minute! Mr. Ao is currently working with another client but I'll be more than happy to help when I put these swatches away."

Great, the apprentice. Well, it didn't matter to him as long as you sewed his suit correctly. He was paying good money for the best possible service, after all.

He didn't pay much attention when you lead him to a private fitting room. It wasn't until you closed the door that he remembered where he was. The private room was decently sized with a rack of premade jackets to the side, three mirrors that caught every angle in the room, a small table full of sewing equipment, and of course the dark wooded chair for Enji to sit in.

In this room alone with you, he finally processed who he was looking at. You. With your pretty little sewing apron and messy hair. Your tiny but nimble hands unwrapping the measuring tape. The way you politely commanded him to lift his arms as if you could possibly command him to do anything...

He wanted you. Bad.

Feeling your hard-working hands wrap around the meat of his muscles, giving a gentle squeeze to measure the give for the fabric. Your short arms struggling to wrap around his waist, pulling the measuring tape taught against the planes of his abs and dragging it up to the full curves of his sculpted pecs. He shivered when the tape scraped his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you cold?" You asked.

God, even your voice was cute.

"I don't get cold," Enji said. He was still grumpy, you being the cutest thing he'd ever seen hadn't changed that.

"Oh, okay." You picked up his old suit and examined it, comparing your new measurements with the old recorded in Ao's customer book. "Wow, you sure gained a lot of muscle Mr. Todoroki. Looks about a whole three inches of girth all around."

Why did you have to say girth? Now he was thinking about those little hands wrapped around the meat of his cock. Would those tiny hands of yours even be able to wrap around his balls? God, feeling you cup them would be amazing, desperately trying to wring his cum from them--

Now was not the time to be fantasizing, he reminded himself.

"Where's my tea?" Enji demanded, trying to get his mind off of you. "Mr. Ao always has tea prepared for his guests."

"Right! Sorry, sir." You skittered out of the room and returned with a paper cup of steaming green tea. When your hands brushed his for that split second of transference, Enji could have sworn he felt sparks.

When he married Rei it hadn't been for love. It had been about power when he spread her open and bred her. Enji knew of love and saw it everything and everyone but himself. But now... He felt it. This was love. Or at the very least, this was his breeding instincts begging for one last round in the ring.

Would you be a good girl for him, like Rei? Or would you fight him every step of the way? He could imagine you clawing at the wide expanse of his back, your tiny legs wrapped around his waist as he plowed into you hard enough to ensure you couldn't escape him the next day. You wouldn't want for anything under him, nothing but freedom--assuming you were coherent enough from his cock that you remembered you wanted it.

Shit, you were talking again. Oh you pretty little thing, didn't you know what you were doing to him? You had to know.

It took him everything to focus on what you were saying, "Since we don't have time to make a whole new suit, I thought maybe we could change the design to add more fabric in a fashionable capacity." You picked up a tablet and showed him a rough sketch of his jacket with red fabric inlaid in the seams to accommodate his size. Frankly he knew nothing about fashion so it looked good to him.

He just wanted you to touch him again.

"That's fine," he said. "As long as I have full use of my arms and legs. You wouldn't know anything about being a hero, but even the clothes we wear outside of work need to accommodate our movement as well as be quirk resistant."

"Of course, sir! Hero work is really intense. I can get started on your suit right away and have it delivered to your address with time to spare. Should I have Mr. Ao bill to the usual account?"

"Will you be the one delivering it?"

"Ah, no. We usually outsource deliveries, sir."

"Hm. I think it would be best if you did. That way you can come with me to the gala." What was he saying! "It would be... Uh, it would be a good way for you to show off your work, maybe make some connections. People from all walks of life will be there, I'm sure that this could be a good opportunity for you."

"I... I don't know what to say." You blushed, sweet and shy, confidence slipping in the face of opportunity. "I would love to."

"Excellent, my driver can take us there and back. Just dress nicely."

"Of course, sir, and thank you again. I'm going to get started on the modifications."

"Please do." Enji stood up, turning away from you quickly and coldy to walk out the door so you couldn't see the outline of his hardening cock in his pants.

He reminded himself to be patient.

Later that night when you arrived in your pretty, slim fitting dress and his bold but fashionable tux, Enji said, "You're a little early. Please come in. I'll make you some tea before I change."

"Oh, I don't want to bother you Mr. Todoroki!"

"It's no bother." He gestured for you to come inside and the moment your foot crossed the threshold of your new home, Enji firmly closed the door and locked it. "Now, why don't we talk about your future?"

#raven writes #Enji Todoroki x Reader #Endeavor x Reader #Tailor!Reader #Yandere x Reader #Male Yandere #Yandere Enji Todoroki #Yandere Endeavor #TW obsessive behavior #TW kidnapping #TW breeding (mentioned)#TW fantasizing

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callsign-novara · 2 months

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Valeria Garza X Reader HC

Hi everyone!I wanted to apologize for such a long hiatus, I promise that the Stalker!Valeria Garza x Reader series will be continued, but for now as an apology, I give you More Valeria Garza x Reader HC.

Content warnings: Violence, Valeria Garza, WLW, NSFW, swearing.

Enjoy <3

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

• Working at a club was a headache most nights, but it kept the money coming and the food on the table. The club smell of booze, cigarettes, and sweat. Nightshade was a higher end club where politicians, mob bosses, and people of authority with high reputations could get drunk without a care in the world.

• You were a bartender, serving up drinks for most of the night. The blaring lights hurt your eyes and the music was loud, you'd have to shout to talk to someone infront of you. Tonight it wad extremely busy. Your finish serving up a customer, a white male, bald, in a luxurious suit. He's been eyeing you all night like a fresh peice of meat. It makes you want to gag. The man keeps calling you over, booze on his breath, he wants you and you can't tell.

• The thought makes you shiver.

• A woman, Hispanic, obviously of a illegal work status based on her tattoos. Cartel? Maybe Mob? Drug or weapons draler? It doesn't matter too much. She sits next to the man at the crowded bar.

• When she sits down, he shuts up. She must be someone important. Or dangerous. Whatever she does her aura holds authority and danger. It's best to stay clear of her. Your coworker could serve her.

• Luck isn't on your side.

• The woman calls for you specifically, you only notice this when your coworker tapes your shoulder. A shudder runs through you but you give her a polite smile, her gaze is Peircing through you. • "Muy bonito." She says to you as you come over, her voice sultry, raspy and deep. It makes your heart flutter. Her voice seems louder than the music, or maybe your going insane. You smile and thank her and take her order. Pouring the hard liquor for her you hand her the drink. "Gracias preciosa" she says and smirks

• You think nothing of this interaction, serving her a few more times that night before she leaves. That was that. She was gone.

• And then she showed up the next day.

• And the next.

• She would always request that you serve her. If any of your other coworkers tried to, she'd glare at them and demand for you. And if you weren't working that night, she'd just leave • You learned her name was Valeria, by all the times she had requested you. And only you. • Fear is the only thing you can feel when you first hear that she wants you. You've obviously caught the attention of someone dangerous and powerful. Nothing good comes of that.

• But as the days pass, she becomes a regular for you, leaving hefty tips and she'd even once made sure that you were only serving her for one night. Renting out a section of the bar and your service were she'd just talk and listen to you as you made her drinks.

• She was oddly nice to you. Well, in a way. She'd teasingly make fun of you if you told her that you messed an order up, she'd say "Oh? Can't get a simple order right, can you? Estúpida"

• She was dangerously attached to you and you knew it.

• Unfortunately, so was she.

• It was strictly a work place thing only, and you'd become accustomed to that. You could even say she was a friend of sorts despite her secretive nature and obvious Mob status. • Until one day you come home to a package. Kinda weird for you, you didn't usually spend money online. Only really using it for necessities like groceries and putting the rest Into savings. • But it was yours, it had your name on it. Shrughing, you take it inside. Maybe you got drunk and impulsively bought something. • Opening the box your brows furrow together. It was soft fluffy blankets. • Ones that you had been eyeing for a while, since your old ones were old and word down.

• There was no return address on the package, or a name on it. The red flags blared in your mind, but you shrugged it off ad a drunk impulse buy. It was just one thing, and hey, it was something you wanted. Or we'll needed. • Except it wasn't a one time thing, because the packages just kept coming. • They werent...menacing. though, you knew you probably should call the police at this point, but the packages weren't harming you, they were actually very sweet gifts. • A new coffee maker, new pillows, new silverware, new bathroom necessities...all things that increased the comfortability of your small apartment. • But you didn't really tell people you needed this stuff. You just eye it or tell your coworkers if they asked what you wanted for a holiday or birthday. So, someone had to be watching you, or just listening to those conversations. • One day, you mentioned the packages to Valeria, who had asked you about how your shift was when you clocked out and walked outside.

• She scared the shit out o you, but she offered to walk you home and you agreed, despite the small thought that maybe you shouldn't. She walked you home, listening to everything you said, commented on somethings until you got back to your apartment. • You said your goodbyes and just as you were about to close the door you heard her say "I'm glad you like my gifts, amor." • Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushed through your veins because you knew she was someone to be feared, someone dangerous with an illegal line of work. • ...but the gifts were so thoughtful and sweet. • Your next shift was..eventful. Valeria was there watching you make drinks, but she hadn't demanded you yet. And she didn't for a good hour. • That's when you took things into your own hands. You made her favorite drink and served it to her with a smile, a small thank you. • She grabbed the drink, and you, and just pulled you into her lap. You looked at your coworker who had a raised brow and laughed at you, but thankfully took over your section too. • As for Valeria, she wouldn't let you go, you sat like a pretty little trophy in her lap, and from that point forward you knew that she would never let you go. You were hers now.

~~~~~

• Valeria would let you continue to work at the bar if you wanted, but she made it very clear that you don't have to lift a fi ger if you don't want to. She's got you. She'll get you whatever you want, a trust me she'll get it quick. • You quickly learned that Valeria always, always, has eyes on you. The bar? At home? Out and about? There were eyes watching you, giving Valeria updates. If she caught you talking to another woman for more than 10 minutes, she would be there. And if she couldn't? Her men were there. • She never let you know what her job was, but with her seemingly endless amount of money, and how she'd sometimes come home smelling of weed, gunpowder and blood, you had a pretty good idea. But you never questioned it. It's best not to know. Even when you got together, the gifts from her never stopped. If she had to go on a 'business trip' she'd come back with some sort of gift for you. • She spoils you rotten. if you don't want gifts then that's too damn bad cause she's going to smother you in them. New earrings? Makeup? A purse? Maybe some clothes? If you glance ar it for more than ten seconds it's basically yours. • Don't get her riled up. If she's had a bad day with her 'clients' and you piss her off someway or another like talking bad about yourself or annoying her, trust that she will make sure you shut up. She'll hold your legs open for hours drinking you up like she's never tasted anything better. She'll eat you out like a pro, don't you worry about her jaw getting sore because she doesn't care. She'll make sure you squirt all over her drenching the bed multiple times until your crying. She'll much you about it too and she fingers you. "Oh, what's wrong, amor? Is it too much? tómalo. That's it baby, you were running g your mouth so much earlier. Now loot at you. Fucked stupid like a slut for mamí" • Once she feels that she's Fucked you stupid and that you've learned your lesson, she'll kiss any bites or marks she left and she'll clean you up. If the sheers are too soaked she'll take them off, if not then it'll be a morning project to change them. • In her arms your safe. Away from the crule world. Away from her work. And if someone dares to touch you, they won't be found. She's a criminal. Dangerous. A scorching fire that will burn you at any moment. She could kill you in an instant. • But she won't. You know she won't. She may be fire, a volcano, burning everything around her to ash, but she'll make that ash into something beautiful for you, her little flower for you to thrive. In her arms the world around you is nonexistent. And that's okay, as long as it's with her.

#lesbian #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #wlw #call of duty x reader #obsessive love #dark romanticism

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Hangover 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: can't stop, won't stop. Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

“Boris, I need that big breakfast,” you call through the window.

“Yeah, yeah,” the cook gristles back as he clinks a plate onto the metal, “you don't wait.”

“It's been twenty minutes,” you rebuff as you take the hot dish and veer around Monica at the counter.

You come around and carry it over to the only customer at a table. The officer came in looking underslept and worse for wear. A bruise is faded to yellow under his eyes and his stubble is just shorter than an actual beard.

“Here you are, honey,” you put on your customer service voice, “more coffee?”

“Yeah,” he puts his phone face down and unwraps the cutlery.

You go to the machine and grab a pot. You return and fill his cup as he jabs at the scrambled eggs.

“There ya go, honey, anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, stop calling me honey,” he snarls.

“Oh, sorry… sir.”

You back away and retreat back to the counter, offering more top ups as you burn with embarrassment. You suppose you can come on strong when you're looking for tips. Besides, you can't blame him for being grumpy. He seems to have a good reason for it.

You put on a fresh pot as you replace the urn on the burner. You dip behind the counter as Monica brings Vi her tea and egg whites. The old lady is one of the mainstays of the place.

“So,” Monica turns her back to the customers and lowers her voice, “how's Will?”

“I think he's liking college… must be having fun since I never hear from him,” you shrug, “only asks when he can come get his laundry done.”

“Typical, I'm not looking forward to Brandon being that age.”

“Yes, enjoy them while they're young and sweet,” you cluck.

“Waitress!” The cop booms from his table.

“Chipper guy,” Monica mutters under her breath as you turn on your heel.

You go back to the table. You notice the wrinkles in his uniform, the buttons aren't lined up properly either. He has his hand on his forehead. He leans over his plate as his shoulders tense and you see his boy racking.

Oh god, no! You've seen this before. Will would get like this when he brought home the flu.

“Oh no, just…”

You put your hand on his back and urge him over the plate as he pukes. You smell the alcohol then. You rub between his shoulder blades as he retches, not bringing up much more than the few bites he took.

“I'll get ya something,” you pull the towel from your apron and offer him that.

You try not to wrinkle your nose as you pick up his plate and carry it behind the counter. You dump it in the bin as Monica lets out a blech. You agree but you don't want to bring too much attention to the situation.

You go into the kitchen and wash your hands. You find a bucket and bring it out to the cop. He's bent over the table, head on his arms.

“Hon– sir,” you put the bucket on the table, “you want some water?”

He doesn't react. You go and get water for him, setting it by his elbow. He breathes heavily but doesn't move.

“You gonna be sick again?”

“No,” he grumbles, “I'm fine.”

You open your mouth but think better of it. You almost wonder if he's actually a cop. Maybe you should call the real ones.

You leave him and go to hide behind the counter. You have enough to worry about between tuition and your mortgage.

“Guy's a mess,” Monica whispers.

“Just a bit,” you agree.

“It's not even noon…”

“Shhhh, he's having a rough one,” you say, “he'll go eventually.”

“As long as he pays his bill,” she tuts.

“Yeah, let's hope,” you frown and peek over your shoulder. So much for a decent tip.

🍽

The cop leaves about an hour after he got there. You forget quickly with the lunch rush. You spend your last few hours running yourself ragged.

You exchange your apron for your coat and leave through the side door. As you come into the alley, you notice the cruiser parked beside the dumpsters. You sidle by, stopping as you see the figure strewn over the back seat.

It's the same cop that was in the diner. You're content to keep going but your shoe hits a shape that jingles. You look down, a set of keys that can be for nothing other than the car in front of you. Those doors only open from the outside… wow. You won't call the guy a disaster, you can't exactly say you're any better.

You bend and pick up the keys. You unlock the door and open it, the edge hitting the dumpster. You don't know what to do so you just grab the cops ankle and shake his leg.

“Sir,” you raise your voice.

He throws his arm off his head and props himself up on his elbow, “what?”

“Um, you dropped these,” you place the keys by his shoe. “Sorry.”

He grunts but doesn't respond. You back up, leaving the door open. He slowly slides to the edge of the seat and hands his legs out of the car, bracing the door as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Was sleepin’ good,” he growls.

“I… I was just checking on you… are you okay?”

“Does it matter?” He pulls himself up, snatching up the keys and slamming the back door. “Doing just fucking fine.”

“Alright, I wasn't…” you show your palms defensively, “have a good day officer.”

“Thanks, waitress,” he scoffs.

You bite down on his tone. It's not the first time you've been spoken to like that. In your line of work, it's all too common, and as you get more years under you, it's just how it is.

You turn and head towards the street. The engine rolls over behind you and as you near the end, you hear the tires crunching on pebbles. You barely manage to move out of the way as the officer steers into the street. You just stand back and watch him veer off. As bad as your day might be, his seems worse.

#johnny storm #dark johnny storm #dark!johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #drabble #au #series #the club #fantastic four #hangover

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zer05trange · 3 months

Text

Roaring Sea

I. Hermes

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ chapter summary: After an inexplicable rush, your second favorite customer comes in for the second day in a row.

⋆｡°✩wc: 1.6k

⋆｡°✩content warnings: none

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist (there is a prologue before this part!!)

Your day began as most did. After waking and freshening up, you begin baking bright and early for the weekday ahead of you. For a relatively new business, you have a decent amount of customers each day, and with little to no negative feedback. It feels nice, especially since starting a business in the service industry was known to be very difficult.

However, today, you are slammed.

Everyone and their mother is visiting your bakery, the small building space was packed for what seemed like hours. You had to get your one employee, Ivan, in early to help out, because this sort of rush was not something you could tackle alone. People were lined up at the back of the door, and each booth and table were full. And when a table isn’t occupied, it's being cleaned for the next customer to take.

The room surrounds itself with a bright and warm ambiance with many conversations filling the air, and it's enjoyable, though it may be overwhelming as all hell. Ultimately, watching people enjoy your food and your space never fails to cap your heart with fulfillment, regardless of how stress-inducing it could get.

The oddest part of the rush is that you're having loads of Fatui agents visit your shop. You've served your fair share of Fatui before, but never at this caliber. Usually, they were aloof and curt. But today, you could almost say they were polite to you, most even tipped a few extra mora with their order. You were mulling over the phenomenon as the fifth pyro agent of the morning walked up to your counter.

“What can I get for you?” You smile up at a agent with his hood and mask covering his face.

“I need a slice of praga cake. Oh and a slice of apple cake, both to go?” He asks, his voice almost... timid.

“Of course, is that all you want?” You ask as you pack up his two slices of cake.

“No,” He exchanges his money for your goods, “Thank you ma’am.”

Once placing a generous tip on your counter, he briskly leaves the shop. That, much like many other interactions that day, left you in a stunned state. Not only had a Fatui agent called you ‘ma’am’ and left a large tip, but he seemed more nervous than their usual stoic demeanor.

After a while, the rush slowed, with fewer Fatui agents making their stay in your bakery. Must be time to do shady government business in the Tsaritsa’s name, you think. You begin cleaning up the dining area, picking up plates and glasses, as well as sweeping up excess crumbs on the ground.

“Ivan, could you please ice that cake?” You ask your employee as you return behind the counter, “I’ll let you off early when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am,” The boy responds attentively as he turns around toward the baking counter. You observe him for a moment, observing how his talent surrounding baking has improved since he began working for you. Ivan came in begging for a job just a few short months ago as a way to make an extra buck during the weekend, and you remember not necessarily needing an extra hand at the bakery. But the teenage boy seemed like he needed the funds, promised to work hard, and hasn't let you down.

It's days like these where find that nothing else brings you more peace than crafting for others, serving them something that you are proud of and that they love almost as much as you do. The tranquility that you found within your bakery was like no other, and besides the stress that came with the rush, you were truly grateful for it.

What you couldn’t pinpoint was how the rush started. You ponder over how it could be possible, you didn’t boost your advertising recently, and it wasn’t a holiday nor was it a weekend. Though thankful, you can’t get over your confusion.

Hours passed by, Ivan finished his shift a while ago, so you were left alone to fend for yourself. By now, the rush had long passed and you only had a few customers coming in at a time, so you weren’t too concerned about working alone. You're finishing refilling the shelves when you hear the doorbell of your bakery, signifying someone entering your shop.

You look up before greeting the customer, only to be met with the same unforgettably cold eyes that you served last night.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tartaglia,” You quickly flash a smile before getting back to work placing pastries into the display case.

“Mister? Do I seem that old to you?” He asks, a friendly smile back on his lips.

“No, I’m just being formal with my customer,” You push yourself up to meet his eyes.

“Is that all I am to you? A customer?” He puts a hand over his heart and displays some sort of mocking tone, “ I thought I made a better impression than that, Ms. Y/N.”

You lean in over the counter to the man, close enough to be able to whisper, “Do you talk to everyone like that?”

Tartaglia swallows, stiffening up ever so slightly.

“No, just the ones who make Snezhnaya’s best apple cake,” He answers back, just as quiet as you were.

You scoff yet again as you push away from him, “Is this your way of getting food from me? Like the little stunt you pulled last night?”

Before you can humor him any longer, you find yourself cutting a slice of cake for him, and ignoring his existence otherwise.

“Speaking of, I have something else for you,” You say before taking off upstairs. His face molds into one of confusion, holding a plate of warm cake while you disappear.

You come back down a few moments later, and his eyes fall on the pouch of mora he gave you. Before he can object, you place the pouch into his free hand and return back to the counter.

“Did you not like my peace offering, Y/N?” He asks, and the way his name rolls off your tongue makes you feel a little flushed.

“Peace offering?” You cross your arms and snap back at the man.

“You’re snarky, лисичка. I thought a little tip may extinguish your unbridled hatred for me, though it seems I’ve failed,” He says back, taking a seat facing the counter. You giggle at his last statement, his dramatization of your feelings pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Giving me nicknames already? After like… 24 hours?” You ask him, “You’ve got stones.”

It was his turn to laugh before taking a forkful of cake to his mouth, and then making an ‘mm’ sound out of satisfaction. He continues scarfing down his dessert, though his eyes keep watch on you. Specifically, where your vision sat on your hip.

“Do you put that to use?” He asks, his hand pointing to your vision.

“Sometimes,” You brush off the question, “I take commissions occasionally, usually when traveling.”

He smirks at that, and you don’t miss it.

“Do you use yours?” You ask back and watch him nod in pride, you hum at his nonverbal response, “We should spar sometime, though I’d probably smoke you.”

You notice how his demeanor perks up even more, his sudden excitable emotion is slightly scary. His happiness in response to your offer was frightening, to say the least.

He already carries an almost mischievous aura with him, and you begin to think that play-fighting with him would be a mistake on your part. Or it could have come off as flirting to him, which you definitely do not want to take any part in.

“I have to get going,” Tartaglia says as he begins to stand, “Tonya wanted me to hang out with her for a bit tonight.”

He makes his way toward the front counter, closer to you.

“Oh no!” You respond in a dryly sarcastic tone, “What a shame.”

He scoffs at you as he places his elbow on the counter, with his head in his hand. He looks up at you with an over-exaggerated frown and a puppy-dog demeanor. “Sooo…” He taps his other hand on the counter, “When are you going to teach me how to make that cake?”

You cock an eyebrow at him with a hand on your hip, not having it with him, “I’m not giving you my recipe for free.”

You turn away to begin cleaning your miniature oven, and expect him to leave. Yet you don’t hear any sort of movement behind you. You quickly turn back around with an exasperated sigh and look straight at the man, who’s position didn’t change.

“I’m not leaving,” He says in a sing song tone.

“Let me think," You snap back.

Teaching him how to bake something would have to be after the bakery closes. So it would just be the two of you. And he’d be so annoyingly him that you’d probably have to recharge your social battery for the next three days following that. Also, you don’t want your kitchen secrets unveiled to anyone. And, ultimately, you’re smart enough to know that this whole thing has nothing to do with an apple cake. But, it would get him to stop pestering you at the moment.

You look up from the desert case and straight into his cold, cerulean eyes, “I'm free two nights from now.”

You see the edge of Tartaglia’s faux frown sprout up into a small smile as he stands up with his hands held onto the edge of the counter. He remains hunched down enough to where his face is in line with yours. And as if he was accepting a challenge, he begins to part ways with you for the day.

“I’ll see you then.”

⋆｡°✩translation: Лисичка- it’s a term like “fox” or “little-fox”

⋆｡°✩a/n: hiiiii!!! I want to get the next chapter out soon, and i hope y'all enjoy this one! i hope you are all doing well <333 thank you for reading

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123

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bebeyeyo · 1 year

Note

sorry if im spammin but can i req yandere j-line

yandere j-line | misamo hc

cw: intentions of harm, kidnapping, manipulation, guilt trip, obsessive behavior, stalking

Hirai Momo : Love Bomber

momo is one to give her all into something she cares about

that includes people

so when it comes to you, oh, she goes above and beyond

but maybe a little too much..?

momo loves to come home with a bouquet of flowers in her hands that are just for you

or your favorite dinner, anything really

she’s an acts of service type of gal

but she’s goes to the extremes

showing her affection for you makes your heart beat so fast with love that you don’t even see the evil intent in her eyes

from the compliments of calling you so beautiful to simple gestures such as holding the door open for you

buying you gifts, such as a necklace she bought for you coming home one night leading to you having a smile on your face

holds you like it’s the last time she’s ever going to, but she knows you’re under her control now

pda? of course. over the top.

buying you those new shoes you wanted but you said you could never afford? you’ll never know the price

threatening to end the relationship over being late for a date? hmm…

but, she knows you’re her good girl, you’ll rarely ever make her upset

she has such an effect on you

so much so that you even go against your own initial instincts and do something you wouldn’t normally do

you guilt trip yourself into feeling bad if momo doesn’t agree with what you may do

“you haven’t been on a night out in forever y/n.” “yeah but..momo spends a lot of money, and she got me something today. the least i could do is return the favor and give her a date night.”

it’s definitely not like this happens every single day…

so you just avoid the conflict all together and do what pleases momo

out of nowhere you’ll even get random presents shown up at your job, and when you confront momo about it, she only convinces you to accept

and of course, you’d never take say no because you love her

she wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway :)

and now momo doesn’t have to worry about that one customer that just couldn’t seem to take the hint

what? she had to take matters into her hands of course, she loved hearing their screams…

because your relationship with momo feels like you’re on cloud nine

being spoiled like this to death makes you feel as if momo is the only one who knows how to take care of you

it seemed too good to be true! momo really is the only one who knows you, she’s the one for you

and she’s got you wrapped around her finger right where she wants you

good. because she’s the only one for you.

Minatozaki Sana : Gaslighter

she loves you so much

but you love her too, right?

enough to stay with her forever?

you might as well because she's not letting you go

and if you do leave, she knows how to use her doe eyes and histrionics to her advantage

this girl is so in love with you that she hates the idea of someone else even getting too close to you

she just wants people to know when to read the room and back off

you do everything to keep sana's happiness at bay.

it's more so you catering to her needs instead of her

but she does treat you with the kindest and wholehearted love anyone could ask for, and she would also do anything for you

even if that meant using her behavior on you

if you're meant to be going out with some friends that day, she'll be dramatic and try to convince you to stay

"why are you going out tonight? don't you want to spend some time with me? i'll be all lonely and i'll be missing you so much."

when you'd only be gone for two hours at most

stalking you is a must of course! she has to know where you are at all times to make sure you don't run off somewhere she doesn't approve

so when she asks randomly how your steak was tonight, you answer with no hesitation

not even realizing how she specifically knew what you had at the restaurant

things get more extreme without you even realizing it

your friends point out how any time they want you to come out with them, you'll give them the same excuses

"Sana said she wants a movie night" "Sana said she doesn't feel that well, so i'll skip" "Sana is making dinner tonight."

all the while sana smirks hearing you blow off your friends at the door

you don't listen to your friends when they tell you sana has been threatening them to stay away from you

because your girlfriend would never do that; she's too sweet

now you only have sana and she has you trapped in this house holding you in her arms with a bright smile on her face and you remain clueless

it definitely helps that you trust your girlfriend enough to know that she definitely didn't kill those no good friends of yours

Myoui Mina : Silent Treatment Giver

oh mina, mina, mina

this woman knows exactly how to get you begging on your knees pathetically for forgiveness

you're so blinded by this love for her that if you were to make her upset, you instantly want her reciprocation instead of the cold shoulder

she loves you, of course she does

but sometimes she needs to put you in your place

and if that means not feeding into your pleas, then so be it

she knows what she’s doing and has no shame in how she’s manipulating you

while sana and momo believe what they’re doing is the right thing, mina knows it’s not

she’s just pure evil; but no one knows this

and she knows just how to get you right where she wants you

if you do something she doesn’t agree with, she straight up ignores you once you get home

you’ll come home and greet mina with a warm smile and greeting

but nothing comes from her; she’ll continue to scroll on her phone or the tv she’s watching

not bothering to even glance from the corner of her eye to look at you

then it begins; the begging

“mina? what did i do wrong? i’m sorry if i did something to upset you, but please talk to me. i’ll do anything. please?”

all that comes from her is silence with an upset facial expression

it’s only until you leave her alone for a few more minutes that turn into an hour that she acknowledges you

she won’t even tell you if you’ve done anything wrong, you just assume at this point

you continue useless apologizes until she tells you to stop and she forgives you

you can’t even go out with your friends because you’re scared mina will ghost you again

it just makes you crave her love and affection more and more any time she decides to do so

which is what mina wants

you continue to do what she wants and when she wants so your reward will be a loving and caring mina rather than a silent and cruel mina

she’ll make up lies about your friends talking badly about you, ending up in you only needing mina because it seems she’s the only one on your side

brainwashing you into thinking she’s the best and she only has your best interest at heart

this results in hardly any silence from your girlfriend

and if someone doesn’t give up on fighting for you, she’ll take matters into her own hands

which is why you were confused as to why mina was up at three in the morning in the kitchen

“oh! don’t worry about it, sweetheart. i forgot to wash a cup i used. sorry i woke you, go back to sleep.”

and without you looking, she quietly slips the knife back in its place with the other cutlery before heading off to bed with you

#darlinggtwice #yandere!mina #yandere!sana #yandere!momo #twice momo #twice jihyo #twice mina #twice sana #mina x reader #twice imagines #misamo #twice headcanons

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swann-song · 21 days

Text

daydreaming - part three

summary: pierre comes looking for you at the library. but meet cutes can only go so far, is it all in his head

in anticipation of pierre coming back to the library, you’d been putting in a bit more effort at work, always watching the door. when the library regulars saw you getting more dolled up and distracted, they’d arch their eyebrows at you and you tried to ignore it. however, as pierres book was now completely overdue, you’d resigned. he probably hasn’t even started it. you retired the cute dresses and went back into your trusted sweaters, mrs moreau thought you’d been dumped. a one sided crush definitely felt like it.

you had the entirety of science fiction sprawled across the floor, it was a dead afternoon, the book club had already left. the library had a hush that was best for these deep cleans you liked to do. you were making a pile of bordage books when you heard your name. pierre was standing over you with a polite smile, he was just outside your fort of books.

pierre looked ethereal, warm light was glowing around him. he had a white button up on, two buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up and you saw his toned arms. his hair was parted neatly in the middle and it fell around his face delicately. his blue eyes clear and big, were you hallucinating?

you stand to greet him and almost trip on a few books, you grab the shelves to steady yourself. pierre had reached out and steadied your elbows. "be careful" his voice hushed in the quite library. you were flushed, and quickly greet him, the small talk brief.

"do you enjoy the russian classics. pushkin's one of my favourite poets" you watched pierre’s brows scrunch together, he looked back at his hand, holding his book and nodded.

"ah well, i just needed something to help me fall asleep" you laughed, the sound of it grating your own ears in the silent library.

"do you need any help picking these up?” pierre offered. "oh.. no, it’s kinda my job, i’m reorganised and cleaning the shelves, it’s fine i enjoy it, therapeutic you know. what are you doing here?" you waffle on, your arms in the air and pierre looks like he’s trying not to laugh at you.

"you weren’t at your desk but don’t worry i won’t hold it against you, your very busy" pierre watched you climb out of the books, you smiled up at him a little lovesick. he followed you back to the desk and waited patiently for you to stand across from him.

"do you want another recommendation, if you need books to make you sleepy i know this dickens is very good for insomnia" you held up bleak house to him. you had your own motivations for urging him to get another book, customer service aside.

pierre shook his head. "that’s fine, just returning this please" you were trying hard to think of something to say, something to make him stay. your computer was lagging and you looked up at pierre, his eyes bore into you and you smiled awkwardly.

"are you busy tomorrow evening?” pierre asked. your face lit up, you couldn’t help it, your cheeks began to hurt, you were smiling at him too much. "no.. why?" you sat back in your chair, arms crossed and grinning at him, you began to swivel your chair side to side a little.

pierre’s eyes were crescents moons, he chuckled and rested his head in his palm. "le cheval blanc at 8. i can pick you up" you scribbled your number onto a bookmark and slid it towards him. you couldn’t stop smiling at him. "okay, sounds fun". pierre puts it in his pocket and winked at you. "see you then" he left you on cloud nine.

you looked around you and snapped out of it. your face felt hot and you were in shock. of all the things you expected, that was not it. you had a date with pierre chavanges, at the best restaurant in town and soon. a real lesson in patience.

daydreaming masterlist

#swann arlaud #pierre chavanges #petit paysan #bloody milk #fanfic #y/n

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lamemaster · 2 months

Text

My Personal Brand of Annoyance

Pairing: Celegorm x Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You tried to rationalize with yourself that punching a royal was not worth the satisfaction it provided it in your daydreams. The prince, however, continued with his unreasonable demands as you tried to tune him out.

“He’s back again,” a flustered Awaldo rushes to you. Fighting the urge to hurl the hot pan at your annoyance's face, you carefully rest it on the counter. Awaldo gives you a concerned look as you angrily slam the knife in your hand. "Remember y/n, he is a prince. Don’t be too harsh," he says, discreetly hiding all the sharp objects in the vicinity.

You feel the beginning of a headache behind your eyes. It had been a whole month, and much to your dismay, the third son of Crown Prince Feanor, Prince Turcafinwë, had taken an unwelcome interest in your restaurant.

Taking a deep breath, you pause right behind the kitchen door, preparing yourself to face the prince. Finally summoning the courage, you push open the door. "Finally! I’ve been waiting too long. You guys need better service," the prince exclaims, exasperation evident as he sits with his muddy boots on your tables.

Gently sliding his feet off the table, you instead focus on arranging condiments. "My prince," you try to lift the corners of your mouth in a smile, "what can we get you today?" Handing him the menu, you hope he won’t ask for the most bizarre things today.

Much to your usual disappointment, he throws the menu aside and rests his face in his hands, tossing his hair aside. From the corner of your eyes, you see the elleths at the next table giggle and swoon over the flaunting ellon.

“Oh, dearest y/n, serve me something so potent that it gives life even to a dead prey, something as unpredictable as me, a bite of it should make the taster prance like the deer of the wild,” he demands, and you try to rationalize that punching a royal is not worth the satisfaction in your mind. The prince, however, continues with his unreasonable demands as you try to tune him out.

It had been a month of this. Out of nowhere, you had stumbled into this predicament when one of the hunters of Orome had come to drop off some venison. The cursed hunter had brought Prince Turcafinwë along for some reason. As thanks, you fed them lunch, but this turned out to be a significant error as the prince came every day to demand the same treatment as that day.

In fact, things turned drastic when, the next week, he came alone to deliver meat, exclaiming that he preferred a certain type of texture for his roast and that he would provide all the supplies instead of your past partner. “Consider it an honor to be able to cook my catch. Now off you go,” he had almost hit you with the very meat he delivered as he shooed you off.

For hours, he lingered in the same place, bothering you to be the only one serving him. But it did not end there. With him came his extraordinary demands and a bunch of idle elleth and ellon who sat idly admiring him.

You notice that the prince’s rambling has stopped and look at him to find him staring at you. By Mandos! Had he noticed your blank expression? Panicking at the sudden eye contact, you try to bow and return to the kitchen. “Ahh…I see, my prince. Give me a moment,” the sudden voice crack at the end makes it worse.

“Remember, make it yourself. I want no one else making anything for me,” of course, you expected this weird condition. You nod at him and start walking towards the kitchen. Awaldo is just as good, if not better than you. There had been one time when you were busy, and your coworker had made his order, and that day could’ve been the day you got the chance to visit Tirion’s prison. Your dearest customer had whined dramatically at a perfectly delicious meal. All of Prince Turcafinwë’s antics had disrupted the whole place, baring all else from their food until he was served by you. Your cutlery seemed sharper than normal days that fateful day.

“How did it go? I hope you didn’t commit treason outside?” you huff at your amused partner who continues to work on his end of the fire.

You ignore the obvious jabs as a picture of revenge presents in your mind. Assembling the ingredients for a light sandwich, you resist the urge to seem too eager. “Ai, nilde, you’re scaring me with that expression,” Awaldo shuffles away with his order ready. Seeing your only chance, you quickly grab the freshly arrived batch of red peppers.

The prince would surely get a dish that makes the person eating it prance like a deer, a dish that represented him perfectly. A distant part of your mind wonders if you had lost hope for peaceful co-existence. You steel your resolve and add the peppers to the sandwich, or add the sandwich to peppers. With great difficulty, you suppress the laugh that rises in your throat.

Re-entering the kitchen, Awaldo gives you a worried look as you pass him on your way to deliver your masterpiece. The unsuspecting prince perks up, looking at the arrival of his food. For a second, you doubt your plan. Cooking is a revered activity to you. Food that brings joy to others’ faces makes you happy… you shake your head. No, this needs to be done.

“Here you go, my prince,” with a flourish, you put the innocent-looking sandwich on the table. Drumming his fingers on the table with childlike excitement, Prince Turcafinwë gets ready to eat. You wait for maybe ages before he finishes inspecting the sandwich and gently holds it to take a bite. Just one bite, and it would ensure your peace.

Your eyes are fixed on his hands and mouth as he inches closer to the sandwich. You prepare to shove the glass of water his way right after the first taste. Just as he takes his bite, you prepare your ears for expected damage, but it never comes.

“Mmm, it’s delicious as always,” your heart stops when he goes for another bite without a wince. Just as he is about to take another bite, out of a stupid instinct, your hand stops his wrist. “You shouldn’t,” you whisper.

Looking closely now, you can see slight redness in his eyes. Yet, Turcafinwë just smiles as he takes another bite and finishes the whole thing in two others. He does all this while your hand still holds his wrist.

Your world stops when he turns his wrist and grabs your hand in a smooth motion. “Oh, mele, how could I ever not finish the food you made,” with a wink, he kisses the back of your hand. You feel the tingle of pepper on your hand as he walks away with a promise to come back tomorrow.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #tolkien elves #celegorm x reader #fluff #banter carries the plot #celegorm

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farawayfroppy · 8 months

Text

Evergreen – I am swept up in you; please don't dispose of me

part 2 ↣ part 1

izuku midoriya x reader

cw: aged up characters, pro-hero au, lots and lots of angst, some canon-typical violence and deaths, Izuku experiences triggers, panic attacks, and nightmares, Reader has a dream-altering quirk, adult language, Reader is referred to as she/her. i see a lot of myself in midoriya so i gave him the therapy that i need

~3k words

hey all! been a while. oops. i started my first year of teaching, so i have had no time to write. i wasn't even planning on posting this i til i had written more of it, but i wanted you to know that i tried lol. i know it's not much, but i hope you enjoy. - Jean xx

Just like that, Izuku found himself back at work.

He knew it was probably too soon, knew it wouldn’t look good to the press or feel like anything other than painful for himself, but he also knew he had a job to do. One of the bastards that had aided in stealing two lives, right in front of him, had gotten away and he hadn’t even known. Hell, beyond that, there was an entire crime ring that seemed to be growing, getting bolder, right under all of their noses.

As much as he didn’t want to relive any of it, to think about it even in the slightest, he knew that as the only hero on the scene that day, he was also a witness. Shouto had wanted information, and now he had it—first hand.

Once inside the doors of his agency, away and safe from the cameras and prying eyes, he made a beeline for his office. He took the stairs today, not bothering with the elevator, where he might have felt like an animal in a cage. That panicked feeling was happening again as he ascended the stairs. Up and up, around and around, it was all blurring together. When he finally reached his floor, he burst through the door, startling an intern standing near a water fountain that was placed a little too closely to the exit.

Izuku mumbled, “Sorry,” but didn’t slow his pace.

He tried not to think about the astounded looks he received from his coworkers as he flew down the hallway. He realized then that he probably should have notified someone, at least his secretary, of his return. As he neared his office, he passed by her, and she rose from her desk with a surprised expression.

“Oh, Deku, you’re back already?” She asked, trying to disguise the shock in her voice. Thinly veiled, painted over with politeness in a way he knew all too well. The customer service voice was like the landlord special of communication, skirting around and covering up the real issues.

He knew it was for his benefit. She was gentle and kind, but he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t feel like he deserved gentle. He didn’t have the capacity to accept kindness, didn’t know how to hold it while already juggling so much. But he wasn’t mean.

“Yep,” he replied, trying to muster up a smile. Tight-lipped, but passable. “Sorry about the disruption, Jane, but I’ll be pretty busy now, so don’t let anyone in. Thanks!” He rushed out before all but diving into the sanctity of his office.

“But—“ he heard her start just as he closed his door, locking it for good measure.

Izuku sighed, slumping against the door with his head down. He felt like crying. He felt small again. How could a man who had accomplished so much, who drew so many eyes, feel so minuscule unto himself? It was hard to live like this, feeling bad for feeling bad, for complaining when he had such privilege and responsibility. There was no end.

“Hey, squirt,” he heard a gruff voice say.

Startled, he shot up, being met with the sight of Bakugou standing near his desk.

“Wh—how did you know I would be here?” He stammered, floored by his friend’s presence and immediately sobered. “Also, I told you to stop calling me that, because—“

Bakugou cut him off, “It’s gross and weird, I know.” He snickered, his shit-eating grin somehow a sight for Izuku’s sore eyes at that moment. “Your mom called me,” he explained, and Izuku cursed to himself quietly.

He should have known. Mama Inko always needed a spy on the inside to make sure he wasn’t lying about being okay. Which, to her credit: he was totally lying about being okay.

“She said you were coming back here today and asked me to make sure you weren’t throwing up and pissing everywhere," he said, and Izuku raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

“My words, not hers,” Bakugou continued. “And you haven’t puked yet, which is a good sign I guess, but do I spy a little pee running down your leg?” He taunted, making his way closer to his green-haired companion to place a large, gloved hand over his face.

Izuku groaned, prying Bakugou’s hand off of him, “Why do you always have to be so gross? And do you ever wash your gloves?”

His friend scoffed in response, “Tch. Haven't you heard I smell like caramel?"

Izuku shuddered, "Caramelized onion maybe. Go take a bath."

Bakugou gave him a long, pointed look before speaking again," So you're really gonna be okay this time, eh?"

Izuku felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion, knowing his expression was probably all too readable to his friend of many years, at least if his stupid smirk was anything to go by.

"What do you mean?" he said indignantly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You look like you're here," Bakugou started, "and you may even feel like you're here," he continued, giving Izuku just enough of a shove to make him lose his balance momentarily.

"Hey–" he started to protest, stopping when Bakugou jabbed at his forehead, right between the eyes.

"But up here, you're somewhere else. And usually, you stay there longer," he explained, pulling his hand back to cross his arms, "but you're coming back to us. I can tell 'cause you sound like an idiot again–less deranged, though–but still stupid. I'm way past hoping you'll give up on being perfect or whatever, but you're making a little more sense than you were when I came by your apartment," he said, rolling his eyes as he continued, "Ya know, before you so rudely kicked me out and left me arguing with the fuckin' door. Anyway, that's a good enough sign for me to tell your mom not to get her panties in a twist," he finished.

"Because you care so much," Izuku stressed the words, "I am fine, just like I said when you barged into my apartment before," he paused. Then, with a face of disgust and exasperation, he screeched, "And can you not talk about my mom's panties?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bakugou relented. "How 'bout that neighbor chick that lives next to ya?" he smirked. "Bet hers have little cherries on 'em. And let me tell ya, they were all tied up in knots over you."

Izuku froze, feeling his ears get hot with a blush as your face came to mind–all pinched up in concern–and he immediately stared at his shoes.

"My neighbor?" he asked in disbelief, "When did you talk to her?" He peeked up.

Bakugou grinned, knowing he had struck gold with this line of conversation, "After you locked me out of your place. She came home and saw me arguing away with your closed door–asked if you were okay."

"And?" Izuku prompted, watching as his friend shoved his hands in his pockets so nonchalantly, like he didn't just say something potentially life-ruining. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Bakugou shrugged, watching Izuku's mouth open in shock. "Didn't know you had the hots for her. Not just gonna give some creep info on you in your time of dire need."

Izuku must have visibly deflated, because he continued, "Don't implode; I wasn't mean to her. She looked all...concerned and shit, so you still got a shot."

Izuku sighed, half-relieved that he didn't scare you off and half-annoyed by his friend's tendency to be nosy.

"She's just nice, okay?" He asserted. "Not that you're ever gonna shut up about this, regardless of what I say," he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "And don't talk about her panties either," he ordered.

Bakugou mockingly put his hands up in defeat, "Got it, squirt. I'm heading out now, anyway, now that I've busted up your pity party," he gestured vaguely as he headed toward the door. "I'll tell your mom you haven't keeled over and died yet," he said finally.

He unlocked the door and started to turn the handle as Izuku went to his desk and took a seat, newly determined and ready to get to work.

Bakugou opened the door and began to step out, pausing as he said, "I'm glad you're better now. Than you were that day, I mean." He then added, without any real bite, "Won't have to pick up your slack."

And Izuku didn't know what to say. He nodded, and the other man left. Slumping in his chair, Izuku breathed deeply, not feeling as much of the weight that had been there before, but deep down, he knew that calling himself 'better' was too generous. He understood, though.

The last time he saw Bakugou was right after he had gotten home. Post-incident, post-bullet wound–could you blame him for not making sense? And he was so angry. Just so angry, like he hadn't been in a long time. His friend had come by to try to put an early end to his downward spiral, but he wouldn't listen to any of it. He couldn't. It's like his eyes and ears and, hell, his entire head had been filled with cotton. There had been one time like it in the past, a time that Bakugou had bore witness to just how much the job really affected Izuku.

A few years back, fresh out of school, they had been called on to a kidnapping case. This girl in a small town had disappeared, and people feared it might have been the work of a trafficking ring from a nearby city. They were right. The two of them managed to infiltrate the house that they had been holding the girl hostage in. They even found her.

Izuku still remembers how he had scooped her up, promising that she would be safe again. Promising that she would feel safe again. Bakugou had been fighting close by, securing their exit, a plan they had become accustomed to by then.

They both agreed that Izuku was better at the hands-on rescuing stuff, a more calming presence during a really traumatic time for the victims they saved. And Bakugou was doing what he did best, fighting with an almost reckless abandon. They were almost out, the majority of the suspects involved had been subdued either on the way in or by Bakugou's hands on the way out. But they missed one.

They missed a man who waited for them right at the top of the stairs, one who shot without hesitation. The bullet should have hit Izuku right in the chest, but he was holding the girl he had promised to save. It hit her instead, saving his life but ending hers almost instantly.

It wasn't instant, though. And he remembers how she had looked up at him, with shock, disbelief, pain, and fear. But more than that, he remembered the look of hope. And he doesn't know if it was confusion, or ill-advised optimism that would never cease despite the odds, but she spoke her last words to him then.

"Don't worry," she had choked out, with a smile and the tears on her cheeks that betrayed it.

"Deku will save us."

Izuku felt too warm, trying to shake his head to rid himself of the memory.

"Work," he reminded himself. "Work, work."

He knew that his best chance of preventing anything like that from happening again was to stop it before it started. He had to find the evil in the world and snuff it out before it could spread. But evil doesn't exist in a vacuum.

Evil is born and raised. It's shut out, dealt a bad hand. Loved or unloved; seen or unseen. Evil is a product of generations of the product of an evening. It can sometimes be found in minds and hearts, but always in places it shouldn't be.

It had been hard for Izuku to learn that evil wouldn't be going anywhere despite his best efforts. Like the the night to the day, it just is. He didn't know if it was necessary, and understood that ultimately, he would not be the one to decide. He could only be evil's consequence, but that had consequences for him as well. Everything balanced out, one way or another. All he could do was try to tip the scales in favor of the righteous and the good.

He spent the next few hours pouring over any and all footage from the incident, as well as witness testimonies. From that, he could gather a decent description of the second perpetrator despite his face being partially obscured. The guy was too coward to even show his face, so he'd worn sunglasses and a baseball cap. He did, however, neglect to cover the tattoos that covered his arms, and some were familiar.

At this point, Izuku had seen criminals of all kinds, and was starting to be able to tell who ran with who just based on their tattoos and general demeanor. But while these looked familiar, he couldn't exactly place them. They were slightly different than those of the main gang that ran in his area, so he decided he would send an enhanced (as enhanced as possible based on grainy footage from the scene) photograph of the tattoo he was looking at to both Dynamight and Shouto's agencies. Maybe they would recognize it.

There wasn't much else to go on at the moment, so as difficult as it was, Izuku turned back to the less pressing but very necessary task of filing reports from past cases. Cases--at times very loosely called so--could mean anything from a traffic violation to a minor dispute. Of which, there were many, especially in a big city. It wasn't glamorous, but it was work that needed doing. And, in his absence, the reports had started to pile up.

"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Paperwork."

To Izuku, the minutes seemed to pass more quickly than usual, which was probably due to the fact that he could basically hear the humming of his heartbeat. His leg was bouncing too, unconsciously, a dull anxiety nipping at his throat while his heart turned over in his chest. His vital organs thrumming with energy made him feel connected to the moment in a way he wished he could reject. It came out of nowhere, that thief of focus. Not completely unwelcome, but uncomfortable in a way that made him start to realize the sweat on his skin and the scratch of his collar.

He had been productive, at least, and had burned through the daylight. He checked the time, eyes growing a bit when he realized how long he had been working. He was completely caught up on paperwork and had even started to get ahead on some things, so he should've known that he had gone way beyond working hours.

He packed his things and left, noticing how he seemed to be the last one in the office. Jane had really taken it to heart when he asked not to be bothered. In some ways, he was relieved. He felt like he'd had enough conversation for the day, so he found a guilty pleasure in walking out in silence. It seemed that even the camera and news crews had taken their leave, and Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

Once he arrived home, he had only just turned the key when your door was thrown open. He flinched, visibly startled, before taking you in.

You looked flustered as you rushed out, "Oh, did I scare you? I'm sorry." Sheepishly you added, "I totally wasn't waiting for you to come home or anything. Just wanted to...look...at the hallway." You nodded then, as if trying to convince yourself, "You know, for fresh air..."

Izuku laughed, slightly confused, but like felt that was the right move.

"Do you want to come over?" You asked suddenly, and he saw something hopeful swimming in your eyes, which were much more open now than the last time he had seen you. He was thankful for that.

Before he could even agree, you said, "I promise I won't fall asleep on you this time."

He really laughed at that as he nodded, "Sure. Give me 10 minutes? I just need to put my stuff away and change."

"No," you whined playfully, slipping back into your apartment. "Don't change. I like you how you are!"

Izuku just laughed at your antics as your door closed, glad to see you much more full of energy. He hoped you were able to get the rest you needed, but knew that fixing that level of deprivation would take a bit of time. You can't catch up on sleep, after all.

#anime #my hero academia #mha #farawaytalks #mha fic #bnha #izuku midoriya #bnha fic #deku #farawaywrites #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero acedamia #deku x reader #bnha deku #mha deku #izuku angst #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n

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localplaguenurse · 1 year

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Considering how many of us wants to headpat the reader from Gold as The Gingko Trees, how do you think Morax would react to his wife having secret admirers and do you think it’ll affect his mood if the reader chooses to keep the flowers around

I uh. I got carried away with this but to answer the question: I think he would be a little competitive for his wife's attention if he were to find out they have admirers. He'd also know that his wife is more than likely unaware of said admirers. They would confuse flirting with kindness and it wouldn't be until they were given a bouquet or something obviously romantic that they're like "oh no."

As for his wife keeping flowers, chances are they probably took them because they felt too awkward about giving the flowers back than anything, so in that case I don't think it would bother Morax. He knows what his wife is like and trusts them.

Anyways, I got carried away under the cut so enjoy~

Shopping alone was never ideal to you, especially after that run in with the thieves. It is why you only entered the harbour to grab necessities and why you would only stay on the main streets. You're not taking another chance down an alley again, not without your husband nearby.

Your favourite spot to shop is near the docks, where merchants sell their wares from foreign lands. You're particularly fond of the spices that come in from Sumeru, and the ciders from Mondstadt. By this point, you're on friendly terms with the merchants from each stand.

The Mondstadt merchant already has apple cider set aside just for you, and when you open your bag to pay, he stops you. "This one's on me today." You're surprised, and a little unsure of the gesture. After all, these are imported goods, surely this man cannot give product away just like that? You do not push it, though, and simply thank the man for the bottle.

After this, you pay the stall a visit each time you enter the harbour. He gives you discounts on his wares, or he throws in something small on the house, usually an ornament of sorts. You keep them in your room on your windowsill with some of your things from the monastery. When Li Lei finally arrives, the two of you go shopping, and out of habit, you visit the merchant you can almost say is your new friend. He offers you his discounts, cracking a few jokes that actually make you laugh.

Li Lei speaks up as you two are walking home. "Little one, I think he likes you."

The preposterous idea makes your face burn. The merchant? Having a crush on you? Not only is it odd he would be crushing on you of all people - a stammering, anxious pushover - but that would be unprofessional, would it not? He is merely providing customer service to one of his regulars. Of course he would be kind to them.

It's naturally one of the first amusing stories you tell Morax after his return home. You awkwardly laugh as you recount the tale. He chuckles as well, but something about the way he smiles through your story is... odd. You cannot pinpoint what it is, but he is oddly invested, asking you to tell him more about this merchant. What does he give you discounts on? How often does he do it? Oh, he sometimes gives you free gifts with each purchase? Please, why don't you show them to your husband?

When you show him the little collection of trinkets you have acquired, he doesn't really know what to say. He knows the significance of some of these items, as told by that disgraced drunk of an Archon next door, but he doesn't know if he should explain the romanti connotations of some of these gifts. You clearly have not picked up on the merchant's intentions, as seen by your openness about the subject and your wholesome demeanor.

Morax accompanies you into town one day, and he is the first to suggest heading to the docks.

The merchant is already looking your way when you make your way over, saying something about checking out another stall first. He's only a short distance away, so it's of no concern.

The banter is the same as it is any other day, though you are unaware of the way Morax watches you. As he suspected; you are completely oblivious to the man's attempts at flirting as he adds more and more to your bag for a ridiculously cheap price. You simply laugh along, and you ask if it is really okay to give out so much product.

"Of course, a lovely young woman like you deserves all of the pleasantries she is offered."

You open your mouth to respond, and are stunned into silence when presented with a fresh bouquet of flowers.

Oh.

Oh no.

Your face burns at the realization that this man is flirting with you, and looking back, you realize he's been doing that the whole time. Your stomach sinks when you recall that you husband is only a few stalls away, and when you realize you have to explain to this man that oh, no, you're not into him this way, you're married. All of those free samples, those discounts... You're horrified at the idea that this man has possibly lost money because you were too stupid to clue in on the fact HE HAS BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU THE WHOLE TIME.

"Oh, what a lovely bouquet," a familiar deep voice remarks from behind you, "say, how much?"

The merchant looks up and sees Morax, or rather Zhongli, placing his hand on your shoulder. He looks at you, then at him, then back at you, and at the hand holding your coin purse. His eyes land on your ring, and you see it click together in his head.

"U-Uh..."

Morax produces his coin purse and pulls out a heft pile of mora. "Here, this should cover everything, including the flowers for my darling wife."

The merchant's heartbreak is muted by the shock. He doesn't say anything, and he hardly moves, only accepting the money and letting go of the flowers. Morax thanks him, and he hands you the flowers as the two of you make your way home.

"..."

"If you are worried I am upset," Morax states, "I am not. Not with you, at the very least."

"B-But..."

He sighs. "Really, I am surprised he did not notice your ring early on, or bother to ask if you were available to begin with."

You feel tears of embarrassment welling in your eyes. "I... I didn't know..."

Morax smiles, and he plucks a flower from the bouquet to tuck it behind your ear. "It is an unfortunate situation, but there is only so much you can do about these things."

It is of little comfort to you, but it is true. You just hope the merchant is not too heartbroken, and you hope he knows that while you do not return those feelings, you are at least grateful for the gestures.

At the very least, the flowers are very pretty.

#ask #as gold as the ginkgo trees #my writing #zhongli x reader #morax x reader #genshin morax #genshin impact #genshin zhongli

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Special Interest 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You package up another pair of mitts. It’s that season where sales pick up. It’s cold and the holidays are lurking just around the corner. Your hands are achy from working your needles but you can’t complain for the uptick in demand.

Along with your crochet menagerie, you supplement your etsy shop with stickers, while pondering the prospect of cards, especially given the time of year. As overworked as your hands are, your mind feels more so.

Your computer bings. Another sale? You go around to check your open Etsy page. Nope, a message from a customer. Please don’t be a return.

It’s a message. From the vaunted Farmer’s Delight. You might be avoiding them but that doesn’t need to be a whole thing. You’re working on their order! That’s not neglect.

You open the chat, knowing to leave that little dot just hovering there would drive you crazy.

‘Hey, just checking in. Was hoping to do a pick-up soon. Maybe in the next week?’

Sigh. Great, did they not read your last message? You know you’re a bit hard to take seriously in real life but this is text. There is no height difference or age gap. You’re on even ground. You’re traversing a world of digital equity.

‘Hey. Not sure if you saw my last message but I can’t do a pick up. Please provide your mailing address and I’ll be happy to send this out. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns.’

There, firm but still customer service-y. You hit send and go back to smooth labels onto bubble packs. Another chime.

‘Like I said, mailing out here is inconsistent. I need the order as soon as possible. Please let me know a time that works for you. I need to hit the hardware store so I’ll be coming to town. We can meet there for exchange.’

Ugh. You want to punch the computer. You should just refund their order and be done with it. Even with your pick-up in sales, it’s a big chunk. You just can’t stomach giving back that much money and they didn’t even ask for their shipping fee back.

You let the message stew. They are offering a public meet-up. That seems like a good omen, at least. Friday night might work, your mom will be done work at four. That’s a decent amount of time. And it’s close to the post office.

You seal another package and leave the room, treading down the hall as you hear your mother clacking away at her keyboard. You approach cautiously. She closes the door when she’s in a meeting. You tap on the doorframe and peek through the open door.

“Mom, sorry, I don’t wanna bother–”

“All good,” she sits back and pushes up her glasses to rub her eyes, “all these emails are doing my head in.”

“Um, well, you remember that order I got. For pick-up. Could you drive me to the hardware store on Friday?”

“Friday?” She echoes.

“I figure we can stop by the post office on the way. And I’ll buy dinner. You know dad loves the gyros down at Eddie’s. It’s on our way…” You give a smile and sway, “please.”

“Sure. Sounds like a good excuse to get out. Besides, I need to grab some washer thing for the sink. I don’t know, your dad was going on about it. I’ll ask,” he flips her glasses down, “oh, that’s so nice! A big sale–” she claps her hands. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

You raise your brows, surprised by her excitement. You remember when you quit your craft store job to buy a Cricut machine and go all in. She was less than jazzed.

“Really?”

“Of course,” she beams, standing and grabbing her empty mug, “you know, I was a bit concerned. No school, no job, but you’re a go-getter. Any man would be happy to marry someone with so many hobbies, and hobbies that pay.”

“Hobbies? Mom, this is a business. I have to pay taxes,” you back out of her way as she comes into the hall.

“I know, sweetie, but…” she glances around, “it’s still young. You don’t know if a business is a business for a few years. I’m not knocking you down, I’m trying to be realistic.”

“Mom, please, do we have to worry about five years from now? I want to see how far this goes without worrying about guys or a husband or– I can’t even order a beer yet.”

“Me and your dad married right out of high school. We never worried about all that dating stuff and it was all so simple. Trust me, once you find someone, the world will be so much clearer.”

“If it’s easier, I can get an uber on Friday,” you cross your arms and follow her towards the stairs.

“Don’t be like that. I’m being supportive. But you make sure you’re saving money. Pray the day comes and you’ll have a nice nest egg for your wedding,” she stops at the top of the stairs, “or tuition. There’s lots of cuties in college.”

“Mom,” you roll your eyes, “let’s just take it a day at a time. Friday I’ll get that order out.”

“Oh, remind me to grab some grout cleaner when we’re there too,” she points at you before she turns to descend the stairs, “the bathroom is looking a bit grimy.”

You mutter, “alright, mom,” and slowly turn away.

Everything with her comes back to that one thing. She just assumes that you’re lonely. Worse, she seems to believe you’re wasting your time on all this.

You shut your door and tramp around to your laptop. You sit on the cushioned stool and type in your reply to Farmer’s Delights; ‘Friday works for me. After four.’

Three dots pop up almost right away. Then disappear. Then appear again.

‘Sounds great. I’ll see you there.’

You send a thumbs up and close out. You have to finish packing then get back to destroying your carpal tunnel. It’s money, your mom’s right about that, but you won’t be saving for a wedding.

#cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #drabble #au #bookstore au #series #special interest #ghosted

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syneilesis · 1 year

Text

☕

She has her hair tied up today, Yves thinks.

The woman grins brightly at him, phone clutched in hand. Emma—Yves had come to remember after she ordered the bitterest coffee with the sweetest smile—has graduated into becoming a regular, and a loyal one at that. At least four times a week and usually in the afternoons. She'd come with a book under her arm and a charming smile that never fails to trap Yves's gaze for seconds longer than he'd like to admit. The second time she came by, she complimented the pastries, which filled Yves with warmth and pride and something he couldn't identify. The only hint of it was the heat that pooled in his cheeks and the way he brushed off her praise with a stuttering denial.

"Good afternoon, Yves!" Emma greets, cheerful and sprightly, that has the barista look at her funny.

"You're too happy today," he says, already preparing Emma's drink despite her not even making her order yet. Every time Emma comes to the cafe she'd order the same coffee but with different pastries. After tasting Yves's brew Emma apparently fell in love, as she had gushed to him when she returned, two days later. That time, Yves dropped the paper cup he'd been holding, which caused Nokto—his co-worker during that shift—to guffaw, much to his embarrassment.

"Of course! I'm going to do something brave today."

Yves does a double-take. "Are you finally trying skydiving?"

"What? Oh, no! Not that kind of brave." She shakes her head before bringing up her phone. With a blush she says, "I'm actually going to text this guy I really like. Ask him out. I came here because I want to be in a place that gives me comfort and courage."

Midway through writing Emma's name on the cup, Yves falters. A guy she likes? Is there even one? Is it the blond guy who hangs onto Emma like a hyper golden retriever? That can't be—Yves has seen her repeatedly rebuff the boy, friendzoning him like one can't believe. If it wasn't the blond kid, then who...?

There's a twinge in Yves's chest that he refuses to examine any further, lest he comes away disappointed and broken. He swallows his unease and musters his own courage. "I-I see ..."

Emma goes on, oblivious to Yves's internal dissolution: "Yeah! Do you—would you help me text him?"

"W-What?" It's an effort to mask the distress in his voice. "Help you?"

"Yes. Do you want to see his picture?"

And what can he say to that? First and foremost, Emma is a customer, and Yves has to accommodate her wishes as a service employee. As they say: the customer is always right—in this case, seemingly right.

"Sure," Yves says, for a lack of anything to answer. At the very least he didn't sound like he ate Clavis's cooking. Small victories.

If anything, Emma's grin widens. She raises her phone a little more and turns it around.

Yves stares back at him through the camera screen.

His brows furrow in confusion. "Huh? Your camera's open, all I'm seeing is myse—oh."

Oh.

It clicks, then.

A hot rush of hope and possibility takes over Yves's body, and he feels like floating on air.

"So ..." For the first time, Emma displays uncertainty, her smile straining and shrinking. "What do you think? Should I ask him out...?"

Words of denial and rejection clamor to escape his mouth, but Yves doesn't really think, doesn't really feel that. More than anything, he wants to say yes. Very, very much.

He tries: "I—"

"No flirting on duty."

The anticipation shatters, and Jin grins toothily at them, wagging his eyebrows in a way that summons a furious blush on both Yves's and Emma's cheeks.

"I—" Yves scrambles. "I'm going to get more coffee beans!"

He practically flies to the back door, leaving an amused Jin and a confused Emma. Yves wants the ground to open up and drop him all the way to the earth's core. He's giddy, he's terrified, he wants to burst into a song. He just hopes Emma's still there when he calms down and gets back.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri yves #ikepri emma #yves x emma #fic #my fic #coffee shop au #i don't know how to end it so it stops like that #yves goes back out and emma's still there #she continues her confession #and finally yves accepts #outside the cafe rio watches stressfully #the real winner is jin #who gets to watch something funny entertaining and happy

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aurumacadicus · 1 year

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Stuckony and space cruise ship AU for the 5 headcanons?

A space CRUISE SHIP!? :0 You are all so creative and here I am like "lol how can I make these men as stupid as possible." Anyway we have the return of feline-based alien Tony.

Steve and Bucky get hired on the cruise ship so they can travel. They know they'll never be able to afford it otherwise, and because the cruises can last for up to five years, there is a cycling crew; they get two days off a week, along with a full month off after six months working. They're feeling kind of lost after their military service and this seems like a good time to explore while they're trying to figure out what to do with their lives, so they sign up for a five-year cycle. Technically they're both supposed to be waiters, but the manager watches Steve get super flustered with just one (1) alien flirting with him and he gets booted to bartender instead. Steve considers this a godsend even though it's technically a demotion--he doesn't get the tips he would have as a waiter. That being said, Bucky leans into being flirty and more than makes up for it. It's not like they're looking for dates, since they're pretty happy with what they have. Still, sometimes Bucky tells him about an interesting (and interested *wink-wink*) customer who's willing to wait for their day off to... 'meet up.' Steve contends the girl with the tentacles was the most fun, but Bucky is very passionate about it having been the genderless alien who could fuck them both at once was better.

Tony Stark is infamous for taking long cruises. Many people say it's because his species will just randomly drop dead if they're too stressed, but mostly it's because he's actually the head designer on most of the engineering for the cruise ships. He's there because he's checking out how things are running. He's working. It's not a vacation. Or. Well. Sometimes it is. There's only so much he can do when he's waiting for the ship to shift into different gear. Also Pepper and Happy have threatened him with making him take a different cruise ship to make him fucking take his vacation time if he doesn't. So sometimes he lounges around and pretends he's not anxious to get back to work. (His species does not randomly drop dead, but he's not gonna tell anyone that. It's great for when his board of directors start getting annoying and he can just rub his chest and they all get nervous he's about to die and shut up.) Pepper had made noises about Tony needing to take some vacation time again, and it's been a while since he's gone on a long-term cruise, so he signs up to do a three-year cruise to check on things and drink margaritas while sailing through stardust.

Bucky sees Tony first. He's at one of the nice tables, for people who are especially important. He's never heard of the name Tony Carbonell, and searching him on his tablet doesn't bring up much. He's not high enough in the pecking order to serve at those tables (maybe next year, when the next wave of one-year contracts come on). Tony is incredibly attractive. Bucky has seen him lounging on the deck during the warmer parts of the trip, booty shorts slung low on his hips, crop top baring a muscular stomach, and he wants to lick it so badly. So he takes note of the things Tony orders by peeking in the kitchen. He knows Tony likes to have margaritas, and martinis, and the occasional mojito or gin fizz. So he tells Steve the next time Tony orders something, send him a 'complimentary' espresso martini. (It won't be free you idiot it's coming out of my tips oh my god.) Steve has seen Tony working out in the gym. The ship has a massive rock climbing wall, and Tony scales it as if it was as easy as scaling a fucking ladder. He is impressed not only by Tony's physical skill, but also how quick-minded he is. Some of the paths on the rock climbing wall are difficult, and Tony has scaled them all, even one where he had to leap five feet to the next hand-hold. So, the next time he gets an order for Tony, he adds an espresso martini, because Bucky says it'll catch Tony's interest, and Bucky's always been better at this thing than him.

Tony raises an eyebrow at the espresso martini, but he does enjoy it, and when he turns to peer at the bartender, he gets a shy wave. That's pretty cute, honestly. He waves back, smitten. He's gonna eat the bartender alive. Except apparently the bartender has a boyfriend. Tony is not technically opposed, but the boyfriend looks a little more... outgoing? Experienced? And he was kind of looking forward to debauching the bartender. Then again, he's never actually had sex with a terran before. It might be nice to tick that box. Two of them even! The pair don't get off until nine, so he has plenty of time to think about it. He takes a the couple hours to wander the ship from stem to stern, observing the go-kart track, the Ferris wheel, the mini golf course. This ship has a lot more amenities than the ones he usually travels on. He'll have to check on the energy pull for everything, do some research. He's been feeling kind of antsy, doing nothing. (Being done by no one too.) Maybe, after he's rocked these Terrans' worlds, he can get some work on the reactors done. Tony pauses by the pool and wrinkles his nose. Water. He's seen the Terrans in it, swimming laps, and then moving over to the hot tub. He doesn't see the point of just sitting in wet. Maybe it's a Terran thing. Maybe he can ask, if the Terrans are in any condition after sex.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME," Tony yowls once he comes back into his body. "I don't see what I've done wrong," Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl. "You were enjoying yourself. Bucky said your eyes crossed." "I'm on this stupid cruise for THREE YEARS and now all I'm gonna be able to think about is getting railed by Terrans," Tony wails. "I have work!" "Oh," Steve says, looking smug. Tony points in his face, scowling. "Don't fucking get smug. You knocked over a bottle of wine when you waved at me. You were supposed to be shy. I was supposed to ruin you!" Steve squints at him in confusion. "Bucky had you sit on his face for an hour, how are you supposed to ruin me when he's my boyfriend?" Tony is absolutely incensed that Steve has a point. "Shut up." "No," Steve says, reaching out to idly scratch around the base of Tony's tail. "Bucky will be back with snacks soon and he'll take your whining at a challenge, so get it all out now." "I can't believe I'm gonna ask you guys to fuck me again," Tony mutters, fuming. Steve raises an eyebrow. "You don't have to." "No, I'm gonna," Tony sighs in frustration, and then is too distracted by the smell of fried piscosos as Bucky shoulders his way into the room to notice or care when Steve bursts out laughing.

Bonus: Steve and Bucky show him the beauty of the hot tub because somehow even with his superior spine he is sore. He still doesn't like sitting in wet but he has to admit the heat and the jets do wonders for his aching body. "Don't fucking touch me," he snaps when they try to get handsy. If they do, he will surely lose the battle to his instincts and thump them, maybe even show claws. All he can do is sit and sulk. It's the funniest thing Steve and Bucky have ever seen but they can't possibly tell him so.

#aurumacadicus answers #ask meme #5 headcanons meme #stuckony

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winter-dayz · 4 months

Text

Sweet Crushing

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Reader Bakery AU Genre: Fluff Words: 1038 Warnings: language

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

He felt bad for her, he really did, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop his daily visits. The sweets were too good and not to mention his massive crush on her. But he did feel bad for her.

It made sense that the owner of the best bakery in the city would be swamped during Christmas time. Changbin wished there was a way for him to make her day easier, but the fact of the matter was that he definitely made her day more hectic just by showing up everyday so that he could continue with his crush shenanigans.

🎄

“Is Y/N not here today?” Changbin asked with a frown, glancing past the cashier. He couldn’t spot anyone in the kitchen through the door’s window, but maybe she was out of sight.

“I made her take a sick day. Is something wrong?” The younger woman before him asked. She’d been working at the bakery for a few months now, but Changbin had been a customer longer than she’d been here.

“Nothing’s wrong… She’s just never taken a day off before so I was worried.” He responded, placating the girl. She blinked at him for a moment, and her head tilted slightly before a knowing smile overcame her face.

“Oh, I see…” The girl giggled softly behind her hand. “I’ll make sure she knows you stopped by, Changbin. Don’t worry~”

“No, no! It’s fine! It’s not like that… I was just worried, really.” He coughed, hoping to cover the slight voice crack. “Besides, if you had to force her to take a sick day, then she doesn’t need something else stressing her out during her busiest season.” Changbin seemed to sweat at the thought of being a bother.

“Boss says our busiest season will be Valentine's day, but I know what you mean… Anyway, I don’t think hearing that you asked about her will stress her out at all.” She held a coy smile, and Changbin wondered what she meant by that. However, being too nervous to ask, he simply nodded and ordered his usual.

He did not hang around the shop that day.

🎄

He didn’t go back to the bakery for a week, despite every fiber of his being urging him to see if she’d be back. It had become routine, and it was odd not to adhere. But with it getting closer and closer to Christmas, it meant orders were due, and he really didn’t want to add to her already busy schedule.

Besides, apparently his pining was not as subtle as he hoped it’d been if the teenager was able to recognize his feelings from a mile away.

By the time he returned, it was Christmas Day. He was only passing by when he noticed the sign was on. Detouring from his original destination, he beelined straight for the entrance. The door jingled just like always as he slipped inside the warm shop and out of the cold.

“Just a second!” He heard her call from the kitchen, and he felt his heart simultaneously drop to his ass and pound against his chest. He stood in front of the door nervously, hands still in pockets and glancing around the empty bakery as though it was the first time he’d ever seen it.

The kitchen door swinging open and Y/N emerging from the back broke him out of his anxious stupor. He moved towards the counter with pink cheeks. She watched him with a polite smile, yet there was something else that seemed to twinkle behind her eyes.

“How can I help you?” She asked with her typical customer service cheer, but Changbin shook his head, at a loss. He had not planned to come here today. Hell, he hadn’t even imagined they’d be open today.

“Why are you open today?” He finally asked, baffled with a frown. Her face seemed to falter with confusion, and her smile fell slightly.

“I have orders being picked up today… Figured I might as well keep the front open if I’m gonna be here anyway.” She replied with a shrug. “If you’re not here to get your usual, then what are you doing here?” She returned with her own curiosities.

“I was passing by when I saw the open sign on.” He cleared his throat. “Last time I was here, you were out sick so I’m concerned that you’re overworking yourself.” He mumbled out. Her smile rose again, this time more genuine.

“Yuqi mentioned you stopped by. I was disappointed to have missed you.” His heart seemed to fail him for a moment at her words. She had missed him? He didn’t think she had really noticed or cared about his presence even after all this time. The fact that her smile seemed to waver into a smirk confirmed that his cheeks betrayed his desire to hide the effect her words had.

“When are the orders getting picked up?” Changbin changed the subject. He had to if he was going to make it out of this conversation without melting into a puddle of embarrassing goo.

“I told them that I would only stay open until three, after that any orders would be canceled.” She didn’t seem to mind the change in topic. Instead, she leaned on the glass counter, proximity closing as she slid nearer on her elbows.

“Three…” He repeated quietly. “Then I’ll pick you up at 3:15.” He nodded confidently. Then, though, he seemed sheepish and cringed slightly. “Unless you do actually have plans today?”

“I don’t. 3:15 sounds perfect. What’s the occasion?”

“Our first date.”

“Ah, so you’re finally asking then?” The smirk was back. He was a tad confused at her words, though. Finally? Had she been waiting on him to ask?

“What do you mean? I didn’t know you were interested in me.” He voiced his questions.

“Changbin, I’ve been giving you discounts on all of your orders since you started coming here. Have you never checked your total?” She reasoned with a short laugh. He felt a tad embarrassed for never noticing, but he was also too elated at the reciprocation to care.

“I was a little busy crushing on the baker.” He admitted, holding back a smirk.

#stray kids #skz #seo changbin #reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #fluff #bakery au #oneshot #ficmas

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