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#but at least I can make it less noticeable for now
luffington · 2 days
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young master ♡
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➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)
➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader
➤ word count: 3.7k
➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling
➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.
Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!
You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 
The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 
You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 
You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.
You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.
A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”
Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”
“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 
“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”
Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 
“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 
“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”
Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?
He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 
He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 
Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.
“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 
“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 
“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”
Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”
His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 
They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.
“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”
The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 
You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.
“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 
“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 
You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 
Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 
He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”
“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 
A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 
Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.
His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.
“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”
“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.
“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”
“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”
You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.
You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”
Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 
“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.
Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”
A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.
“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.
You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.
“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”
A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 
“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”
“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”
Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 
But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 
Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.
“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 
“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”
“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 
You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 
He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.
“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 
You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 
He came hard. 
The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 
Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 
Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 
You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”
Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 
“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”
The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 
“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”
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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆
╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))
wc : 3.2k
taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!
an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...
You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.
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It was quiet.
Too quiet.
There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...
These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.
Rafayel's stare was intense.
Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!
...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.
"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.
You were torn, somewhat.
You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.
...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.
Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.
You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—
"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."
You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.
However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.
Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.
Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—
But you felt like it was.
It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.
You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...
And his eyes.
God, his eyes.
Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.
It was visceral.
It sent a tingle down your spine.
You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—
Was a siren's allure truly so confining?
You had nowhere to run.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...
Intentional.
"Little muse, you're blushing."
If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.
Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.
"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.
"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."
And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.
Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.
You couldn't take any more of this.
You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—
A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.
"Hey. You tired?"
Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.
It wasn't helping.
"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.
And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.
A smirk spread over his features.
You were in for it.
"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."
"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"
He grinned.
"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."
You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.
"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."
You wished you could slap that smile off his face.
Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."
You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.
And he noticed.
"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."
The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.
"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.
You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.
"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."
For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—
Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.
"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"
He was infuriating.
A menace.
This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.
You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.
"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."
Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.
It was foul play.
Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.
It was as if you were... a show.
"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.
His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.
"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."
You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.
You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.
"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.
You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—
"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"
Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.
Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.
"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"
Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."
The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"
"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.
"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.
But you did as he said, anyway.
The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.
"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."
It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.
And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.
Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.
"R-Rafayel..."
Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.
"Keep going, princess, I'm here."
Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—
"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"
In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."
His words proved enough.
"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.
"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."
His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."
You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.
He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.
"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"
You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.
"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.
But he smirked.
A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.
"R- Rafayel...?"
"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."
Don't mind me.
He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.
"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."
The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.
Your eyes went wide.
"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.
And he didn't dare stop there.
He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.
"Look at me, princess," he whispered.
And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.
Your breath hitched.
Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.
"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"
He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.
It had you moaning almost immediately.
"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.
You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.
It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.
Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.
"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"
"Yeah? Need what, hm?"
Oh, he was having fun.
"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"
The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.
All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.
You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.
Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.
Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."
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⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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"A Kiss?"
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Sirius Black x Reader
"It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now"
Masterlist
————————————————————————
It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now. Especially when you can smell his woody cologne, the leather of his jacket, and the lingering scent of the cigarette he smoked earlier.
How I got in this situation? A Marauders prank gone wrong. You never really cared about the pranks they loved to pull because they never concerned you. This one went wrong, very wrong, Hence your current situation.
There were only supposed to be a few fireworks outside apparently, of course you didn't know that when loud popping noises disrupted you in the middle of your walk to charms. Professors all came running out of their classrooms, students were shrieking and ducking down, you were just plain confused because, what the fuck? No really, what the fuck?
You were even more confused when Sirius Black, of all people, came hurdling towards you and virtually flung himself onto of you hurdling you both towards the ground. Narrowly avoiding an off track flaming firework that went off into a dazzling explosion resulting in colorful sparks just mere feet away from you. Covering the hallway in a thick fog that made your eyes water.
The shock of it all made you not fight when two strong hands plucked you up off the floor and pushed you into the nearest storage closet.
When you finally come back to your senses and realize, really realize, that you're practically glued to a guilty looking Sirius's chest, lets Just say you flip out to put it lightly.
"What the fuck was that!"
"Those were fireworks."
"No fucking shit Black, why were they inside?"
You don't hear him sigh as much as you feel the breath softly brush against your neck
"Because Remus messed up the spell that he's been working on for months and gave James the wrong instructions causing the prank we have been planning for months to fall apart. I honestly can't believe them, I for one would have never-"
"Sirius! I Don't care about your stupid prank! I care about the fact that I just got tackled to the ground like I was in a quidditch match, burst both my eardrums from the noise, and went blind for at least 2 minutes out their, and you're complaining about how your prank didn't work? Are you serious right now?"
He smirks, and well you pretty much walked yourself right into the next thing he's going to say. It doesn't make it any less annoying.
"I'm always Sirius" he says with the goofiest, boyish grin on his face, and if it weren't for your situation right now, you probably would have smiled back considering Sirius Blacks smile is as close to a beam of sunlight as humanly possible.
you internally scream and give him a deadpan look. He goes back to looking sheepish.
Now that you are calming down, or at least not absolutely fuming anymore, you get a chance to really look at Sirius. You notice the freckle on his cheek, the slight crease in his eyebrow, the scar on his upper lip. He's very pretty, though you'd never say it to his face. Not willing to inflate is already massive ego.
You find yourself slowing your breathing slowing down to match the breaths you feel him taking against your chest. And god his chest, its firm against your body and now you are picturing all the times you saw him by the lake in the warmer months in nothing but his swim trunks and- god is it hot in here? when did it get so hot?
there really isn't much room in here.
Sirius must sense the sudden shift in the room because he opens his mouth to say something, then immediately shuts it.
"Have you seem Sirius, James, Remus, or Peter? I know they had something to do with this. Once I find them they are dead meat. All of them. Detentions, perhaps for the whole year. Find me immediately if you see them. That goes for all student, If you see something say something! I will get to the bottom of this!"
You feel siariuss chest start to shack against yours and muffled giggles Strat coming out of his mouth until he can't hold back anymore and starts cackling
What are you doing? its like you want to get caught! Sirius be quiet I'm not kidding they are going to hear you!" You quickly give up your antics when you realize they are no use to sirius's implacable case of the giggles
So you take your hand and promptly slap it over his mouth.
His eyes widen, but then go back to their normal devious state of unmistakable mischief and he licks your hand. He. Licks. Your. Hand.
"ugh" You snatch your hand away immediately and wipe it down on his shirt without thinking. The problem with not thinking? You're rubbing your hand that was over his mouth on his chest. You are rubbing Sirius Black's Chest.
When you look back up you expect to see his teasing gaze ready to poke fun at you for touching his "Magnificently toned pecs" but his face is, pun not intended, serious. His cheeks are even tinted a little pink, and that just can't be right because Sirius doesn't blush. He gets flirted with by the hottest girl and boys at school and doesn't even bat an eye. There is just no possible way you could have made Sirius black blush, but yet here you are.
Looking up into his eyes you find him staring right back at you.
"You know your eyes are really pretty up close, its kinda hard to see them from across the classroom in potions" Sirius says quietly, voice almost a whisper
and you practically melt on the spot because that was such a nice thing to say. And he said it to you. Perfectly average you.
"Thank you" you breathed out "your eyes are very beautiful too."
"Are they now?" he smiled and quirked his eyebrow
you roll your eyes, "In that case I take it back-"
"No! You can't just take it back, I'm sorry! How can I make it up to you?"
"Make up what?"
"My awful teasing, and me being part of the reason you had to miss charms class and be stuck in a closet with me for twenty minutes"
"being in a closet with you wasn't that bad but I can think of a way you can make it up to me"
"Anything."
"A kiss?" you whisper
He smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that" and he leans down to softly attach his lips to yours.
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onceuponapuffin · 2 days
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Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!
Beginning|| Previous || Next
It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.
As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.
“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”
“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”
Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.
“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”
“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”
Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.
At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.
And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’
So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.
You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.
THAT BEING SAID
You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.
The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.
It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.
“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”
“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.
“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”
“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”
“Trying is the key word there.”
“That’s true enough I suppose.”
The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.
“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”
“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.
“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”
“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.
“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, Crowley?”
“You’re my angel. No one else.”
“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”
The shop bell dings.
“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”
When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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lolathestoryteller · 2 days
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fatherly duties (April 25th prompt; Thrill) @jilymicrofics
“You’re staring, Lil.”
Lily startles, nearly knocking James off his feet as she spins around to face him.
“Woah,” he breathes, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Just me.”
Lily frowns up at him, though she can’t completely hide the slight blush that warms her cheeks, noticing his bemused expression. “I wasn’t staring James, I was just—“
“Staring. Yeah.” James interrupts cheekily, giving her his typical lopsided grin.
“Checking.” Lily corrects him, crossing her arms. “I was just checking if he’s alright.”
James’s smirk softens at that, and is replaced by an understanding smile. “Yeah.” he says quietly, looking past her at the door to Harry’s bedroom, which stands slightly ajar. “I was about to do that, though. One of my fatherly duties.”
Lily can’t help but chuckle at his feigned displeased frown. “Oh, is it now?” she asks amusedly. “And what else, may I ask, would those fatherly duties include?”
James presses a finger to his chin, thinking. “Well…there’s telling horribly flat jokes, for one.” he muses, smirking slightly at Lily’s eye roll.
“Hm, they’re called Dad jokes, I think.” she replies, acting as though this conversation was indeed very serious.
James can hardly hold back a laugh. “Yes, yes, exactly those.” he agrees. “Oh! and there’s also, teaching him all the hidden ways around Hogwarts and—“
Lily slaps his chest. “James Potter!” she hisses quietly. “He’s gotten into more than enough trouble on his own, he definitely doesn’t need your encouragement.”
“Alright, alright.” James sighs, but in all honesty, he does agree with Lily. Hearing about Harry‘s many previous escapes has had them both feeling less than thrilled, to say the least.
“Well, I’ve got another one then,” he adds, walking up closer to the door to peak inside the moon lit room — the room that once belonged to Sirius and now hosts his son. “Protecting him, with my life.”
Lily feels her chest constricting with the entirety of the statement. “With our lives.” she corrects him quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.
She watches Harry’s sleeping face, and tries her best not to think of the last time they’d vowed to do that — and the last time they almost did do that. And she’d do it again, in a heartbeat.
James wraps his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head.
“Merlin, I’d take a hundred curses for that kid,” he says after a minute. Then, with a breathed chuckle. “Although, you know, I’d still prefer not having to bite the grass anytime soon.”
Lily smiles weakly. “You always hated to eat your greens.”
James turns his head to look down at her, an incredulous expression on his handsome face, before he suddenly bursts out laughing. “Wow.” he snorts. “Can’t believe Prefect and Head Girl Lily Evans would ever pull a pun.”
Lily giggles despite herself, reveling in this moment of quiet solitude. “Oh, she’d never,” she replies with mocked disapproval, before her lips tug into a smile. “But Lily Potter certainly would.”
She thinks James’s smile could probably light the entire bloody house. “I love you, Mrs. Potter.” he smiles, like the love struck teenager he hasn’t been in almost seventeen years.
Lily blushes, although she reckons she really shouldn’t anymore, being in her thirties and all. “I love you too, Mr. Potter.”
A slight creak to their right makes them both turn, and Lily’s blush increases, now twinged with a bit of guilt as she’s met with the confused eyes of their son.
“Dunno what’s more worth asking about,” Harry lulls tiredly, blinking against the light in the hallway. “Why you two’ve been standing in front of my bedroom for the past half hour, or what’s gotten you to giggle on about…?”
Lily bites her lip, sparing Harry a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she replies genuinely. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“We’re just checking on you.” James adds, perhaps unnecessarily.
Lily notices the look of confusion on Harry‘s face. “Uh…right,” he replies slowly. “Checking for what?”
“To know you’re okay.” she explains gently.
Harry raises a brow, lips twitching amusedly. “I’m fine,” he chuckles. “I was asleep, you know…not much I could do that you’d have to check on.”
“It’s just a nice change,” James pipes up, clearly wanting to lighten their conversation. “You — sleeping so quietly, not scurrying around, beating your old man at quidditch.”
Harry snorts. “Yeah, well, I could still beat you, even with my eyes closed.” he retorts jokingly.
James gasps in mock appall; „In your dreams!“
Harry snickers, with that same cheeky glint in his eyes which Lily‘s seen plenty of times before, on James. “Yeah, there too.”
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Started murderbot on the plane today. Let's look back on what I screenshotted and try and remember why
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Ok first screenshot. Easy mode. Wanted to pay respects to a polyamorous king and his seven children by various partners
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I think here I was going to point out that the prose in this thing is just. Not particularly inspiring. Right now in my post-travel clarity the thing I've read most recently whose prose style lines up with murderbot is the animorphs books. Which is absolutely not an insult because I loved those fucking books, but I don't want books written for adult audiences to remind me of books written for elementary schoolers.
"You may have noticed that when I do manage to care, I'm a pessimist." Ugh. I'm interpreting the style in the most favorable way I can and assuming that we're more or less supposed to view murderbot as having the angsty broody personality of a sulking teen. Taking the prince of darkness out for a walk. And that were not supposed to take it too seriously
I will say I'm kind of disappointed in How human murderbot is. When I heard the premise "killer security robot who goes rogue and binge watches a bunch of tv" this isn't really what I was expecting. Obviously I am just on the first novella but rn murderbot feels indistinguishable from like a loner space merc character. Like as in the This Is A Robot stuff just isn't hitting like I wish it was.
I think it's really not helpful that we aren't introduced to any more "standard" sec units to compare murderbot too. Are they even "standard?" How much personality do secunits typically have? Are permitted to show? Not knowing that makes it impossible as the audience to actually understand what makes our main character an outlier from its peers, which is kind of a critical point of failure for characterization
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But at least we know it can /j with the best of them
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Could I get prompt 7 with a female tourist reader passing through Santa Carla with Marko?👀
7. I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?
Absolutely! I hope you like this, and thanks for requesting!💜
----------------------
In a city like Santa Carla, it was hard to truly stand out. Everyone was their own kind of crazy, and it took a certain something to truly stand out. That's why the town was such a haven for the undead, the unknown, and the unnatural. To stand out, there had to be something unique or special about them - at least for humans. For a vampire, it took less. A certain smell, a certain blood type - or the lack of all of these things.
Maybe that was why Marko had kept an eye on her all night, wondering why his eyes kept being drawn to her. She didn't smell any different than any other women around, she didn't have a rare bloodtype... no, based on scent alone she was just like any other women in the crowd. And yet - he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
I had noticed the stares he gave me, when I joined the crowds. When I went to a small concert at the beach, following the show up with a drink at a bar. Wherever I went, I felt his eyes upon me. And if I was being honest, it unnerved me quite a bit.
When I got out of the bar I saw him staring at me again, little over ten feet away. I took a small breath, deciding that this was it. I walked towards him, head held high, ready to tell him I was done with him being a creep when-
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" An old woman had bumped right into me, holding what could only be described as a bucket that was once filled with ice cold water. I was totally drenched, shivering as the wind picked up. "You must forgive me, dear, I didn't see you-"
"Yeah," I waved her off, "sure. Don't worry about it." I stepped past her, frowning when I realised that the boy that had been staring wasn't there.
As I walked over the boardwalk, searching for the boy - or man, whatever his age was - I couldn't help but shiver. I was still wet, and the wind was only getting stronger. I couldn't stay like this much longer, and I decided to head in to the next restaurant to see if I could order some tea and some soup to warm up.
The only store that was still open is the Chinese restaurant at the corner of the walk, and with a small sigh I pushed the door open. The smell of rice and noodles hit my nose instantly. I went up to the counter, placing my order for a tea and some noodle soup when I saw him.
"You!" I looked at him. "You've been staring at me all night!"
"I have."
I blinked. He didn't even deny it. That was weird, right?
"Why?"
"You're different."
"Why?" I asked it again, sliding in the seat across from him.
"I don't know."
"I don't like being stared at. If I catch you again, I will -"
"You'll what?" He asked, sounding more curious than threatening. I shrugged slightly.
"I don't know, burn your eyes out, or cut them out or something."
He chuckled. "Then I'll make sure you won't catch me."
I glared at him, causing him to grin. He kept looking at me, taking me in.
"You're shivering."
I bit my tongue as I looked at him. He wanted to play all flirty all night? Fine, I could play that game too.
"I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?"
Now it was his turn to be taken aback.
"Bit forward."
"So is staring."
"It's different."
"It's not, though. I was serious about my question, I feel like I'm turning into an icecube here."
He sighed as he took his jacket of, handing it to me.
"I'm Marko."
I smiled as I took the jacket, putting it on. It was large and incredibly warm - I instantly felt better. When he told me his name, I decided I would tell him mine. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here.
"Am I really that different?" I asked as the waitress brought me my tea and soup.
"It's mainly your attitude. I can't really describe it."
"But it's obvious enough to stare?"
"You looked back, though."
I nodded as I sipped my tea. "I did. Maybe I wanted to know who I was dealing with."
"What would you have done, if you hadn't been doused with water?"
"I'd probably would have yelled at you, called you a creep and depending on your response I might have hit you in the face."
"You had a plan."
I grinned at him, quite enjoying his presence. "Absolutely. Never go anywhere without it."
"So, what's your plan with my coat?"
"Hm," I thought for a moment, eating some bites of my soup, "I'm keeping it hostage."
"You're keeping my coat hostage?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"That way you have a definite reason to pick me up tomorrow evening."
I smiled at him causing him to laugh. Yeah, as unnerving as his staring had been, he was fun. The banter had been proof of that.
"Alright. How about I also drop you off tonight?"
"I wouldn't mind that. But I'm still keeping your jacket."
"I'll take it back tomorrow."
"We'll see," I grinned, placing some bills on the table and standing up. His order was called out, and he led me outside to his bike.
Marko grinned as he felt her arms wrapped tightly around him. He still wasn't sure what she was to him or why, but he knew that he wouldn't kill her. Something about her made it impossible to do so. Besides, he liked her company. As he drove through the streets towards her motel, he couldn't help but feel as if this was all somehow exactly how it was supposed to be.
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soxcietyy · 2 days
Text
Temptation
Chapter 7
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Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint
Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)
The rest of the week he spent as far away from you as he could. He would come home late, sleep in a spare room or sometimes he wouldn't come home at all. Ever since that day he couldn't help but maintain his distance. He was scared, he didn't want to frighten you like that again. Not only did that cause him fear but also the fact that he cared about that.
He was Yuta Okkotsu, one of Gojos most important business partners that worked under him. Everyone was supposed to be terrified of him. But just the single though oh you being scared of him gave him an itch.
He tried to convince himself multiple times that maybe it was because this was all new to him. The concept of marriage and now having to care for Someone else other than him. Yea that sounds about right. This will soon pass and he'll be back to his normal self.
He's been away from you for a good length of time that he kinda felt prepared to face you again. Putting his foot down and putting you in your place. A women shouldn't be walking over a men. Maybe his actions were justifiable last week. He told you to stay put and you did not listen which created consequences.
Yea that's it, you deserved what you got and he will not let it slide.
"Yu?" He hears a soft feminine voice speak. He snaps his head from the paper he held to the door way where you stood in a sun dress.
"Darling you know well you're not allowed in my offic..." as he spoke to you he noticed the bruises on your neck that he left last week. That delicate skin of your being harmed by his own hands. He couldnt bare to see the injury's he caused so he looked back down at his paper.
"Yes I know but I'm worried. We haven't been able to sit down and relax. You're always busy or coming home late. We haven't even slept in the same bed. Im worried about us." you say
About us? what a joke, with the way he's been treating you he was surprised you thought that way.
"I don't think what in doing should concern you. Go back to bed and get some rest." Yuta says as he scans the paper he's been rereading over and over again. To him it seemed like a never ending paper. Everytime he read it he would space out on it having to make him reread it over and over again.
“Can I least go out for some fresh air?” you ask him “of course.” He says as he begins writing his thoughts.
“Without someone following me.” You speak. The number of times they had stopped you his week from walking out was outrageous. Every time you confronted Yuta about it he would ignore you and keep on with his business. “you’re not allowed to go out without anyone accompanying you.”
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Your angry thoughts influenced your actions immediately. Storming out of his office you quickly made your way upstairs snatching up his wallet that rested on the nightstand. You couldn’t believe that he had just spoke to you that way. This wasn’t what you imaged being married to him was. You felt like an idiot for actually agreeing to something so dumb like this. Anyone would have seen something like this coming a mile away. You were just so stupid, so gullible to believe every word that fell out of his mouth. After putting your heels on you walk downstairs. You knew well that Yuta had guards stationed right out the doors. You were so sick of being stuck here with an arrogant man. All you did was try and be the best wife but clearly, he could care less about you and your efforts. Opening the door, you see a tall buff man standing with is back facing you. You let out a small huff as you quietly closed the door behind you. Taking a few small steps forward you see him turn around at the slightest sound of your heels hitting the floor. “Go back inside before I throw you like last time. “ That did happen didn’t it. “Yuta said he’ll meet me outside the gates. He seemed to have lost his wallet.” You say trying to get pass him.
He lets out a laugh as he blocks you from going further. “do you think I’m stupid little girl? He would never let you go even a few feet from him.” The guard laughs even harder as he shoves you back making you stumble a bit.
You give the man an innocent smile. “Clearly you don’t know him enough to know that he would let me do that. Let me through before I tell him that you put your hands on me.” You talk back.
“What would people say if Yuta’s wife was being man handled? Clearly you would be forced right away. Knowing him he would easily let you go home before killing someone you love.” You stare into his shocked eyes. He mumbled before letting you get pass him. If you knew it was this easy you would if been escaped this place.
Immediately you started walking to the open gates. Walking with the fear of his possible looking outside his window to see you walking of the property. Once you made it out the gates you turn around and shut them. The guard looked at you confused for a second before booking it towards you. That’s when you quickly lock it with the key Yuta always carried in his wallet. You gave him another innocent smile before you ran down the road. Luckily those gates where as tall as pine trees, that means he had no choice but to get another key from Yuta who should be at a meeting about now. Now i9f he had the guts to interrupt a meeting then that was on him. Running as fast as you could in heels, you cut through people’s property’s so you wouldn’t be found so easily. Eventually after so long of running you made it to the city of New York. Yuta did not live far from the city at all making everything supper close to you guys.
Stopping at a coffee shop you rest by the wall and catch your breath. You haven’t ever ran this much in your life before. The adrenalin in your body was still pumping as you held your chest.
“Oh, darling are you alright?”
Alarm bells ran in your head once you heard them say darling. When you look up your met with blue eyes but not the dark ones you know. They were infused with a light green color making them look really friendly. Moving from his eyes to his face you realize this was a total stranger. This man had blonde short hair, chiseled jaw, he wore such a nice navy-blue suit that complimented him. Your mouth seemed to have dropped, mesmerized by his beauty. “y-yes! I’m fine I just got done with my morning run.” You say
“A run? In heels?” he raises his brow.
“yes...”
“Your quite an interesting girl, how about I invite you to grab a drink with me?” he says holding his hand out. You looked at him not being able to believe him but take his hand either way. He grabbed it firmly and walked out with you in his arm.
“ I know this coffee shop with better drink up the street. I had gone to the one we had left to grab a quick drink to go. The I ran into you, and I just love having drinks with people.” He says as he walks with a fast pace. This man was really tall, to the point where it kind of hurt your neck to look up at him.
When you guys got to the place you couldn’t believe how beautify it looked. Planted where planted in so many spots and it smelled like roses from the pots that surrounded you. This was something you’ve never seen before. As you approached a table, he pulled your seat out and letting you sit before taking his own. A waiter soon came up to you guys and asked if you guys needed time to order.
“No need, I would like Americano and for the lovely lady hmm, what do you want tea or coffee?” he tilts his head making his golden locks fall to the side.
“I uh, I like tea.” You say
“ Hōjicha please! Oh and maybe set of your delicious biscuits.”
As the waiter left, he put his attention back towards you. “so do you usually take strangers on-“ “Coffee dates? No, no I am quite a busy man, I was actually free today and well I couldn’t just ignore you.” He smiles. “Oh well thank you for taking me out uhh.” You say ignoring the fact that he called this a date. “How rude of me! I haven’t introduced myself, haven’t I? The name is Angelo.” He says.
“Oh, I’m y/k Okkotsu.”
His eyes seemed to have lighten up once you told him your name.
“Magnificent.” “Do you work Angelo?”
you ask him curious to know his profession if he could afford to go to such a coffee shop.
“I own many restaurants and coffee shops around here, including the one were at. Its quite new actually.” He says as he looks around admiring his work.
“Really? Wow I really love what you did with the place. I is so stunning and it feels like I’m in the middle of a flower field.” You say surprised.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it darling.
“um currently nothing I’m just home all the time but I’m want to get into my husbands business. I want to feel useful you know? But how can I do that when I’m not even allowed to know anything about it.” You look down at the wooden table “oh sorry I started venting without realizing it.” You say embarrassed.
“No need to feel bad I enjoy giving advice to people.” He says as he receives the drink from the waiter that you didn’t even notice. He set your drink in front of you as he took a sip of his. Letting out a satisfied sigh come out as he tasted the drink.
“What does your husband work in” he asks as he licks his lips.
“Trading under a company.” You say as you also took a sip out of your drink. Your eyes brightened the second your tastebuds made contact with the liquid. This was really good, this man kept of surprising you by the second.
“What is this? It’s so good I’ve never had such a flavorful tea.” You bring the cup up to your lips once again.
“Ha, I knew it would be your taste. It’s a Japanese’s tea that has roasted green tea leaves. Its naturally sweet yet has a hint of a smokey flavor in it.” He lifts his hand up in the air to get a waiter’s attention.
The man quickly runs to him and ask him if everything is okay. Angelo reassures him everything is good and that he just wanted to know if he had a bag of the tea you were currently drinking.
“oh you don’t have to do that! I can always come on my own, I want to support the business.” You say.
“oh sweety but what if you can’t go out when you crave it? You already know how husband can be, ugh so bitter for no reason, Speaking of.” He brings his drink to his mouth. “Y- your husband how is he like?”
For a second you thought he was going to say your husband’s name. Then again, he shouldn’t even know him.
“well, he’s…nothing like I expected him to be like.” You say with a sense of sadness. You had no idea why you held such high expectations for him in the first place. You didn’t even know him for that long and here you thought he was going to be the best husband ever. “I just wish he was more caring, kind, and well just loving in general.”
You had no idea what had happened, when you first met him, he was the most kindest person ever now he was something else.
“Sorry to hear that,” Angelo crosses his legs as he stretches them out. “Something like that must not be easy to through, I trust your strong enough to pull through, right?” Angelo looks own at his watch and raises his brows. “it’s near noon, do you need a ride?”
Ride, but to where? You couldn’t possibly go back to Yuta’s. He was going furious when he finds out you escaped. If you ran back home, you feared your dad would call Yuta since apparently, they were buddy’s now. You could get a hotel room, but they would be able to track you right? At this point he must have already called everyone he knew to look for you. At your wedding the kinds of people that came up to him were unexpected, bank tellers, police, business people, doctors, and more. They all probably had all eyes and ears out for you. You couldn’t held but fiddle with your wedding ring to ease your thoughts.
“Or you could come to work for me, you can be my secretary for the day.” He offers with a genuine smile.
“really?! But I’m a women, wouldn’t people look down on you?” You say feeling a bit excited for the opportunity.
“You think I care about other opinion? Is that the way your husband thinks? Such a childish mindset. Common let’s go to my company building.” He says as he helps you get up.
AN: Guys I wrote this on my laptop on word during my finals. I typed 5 pages of fanfic and thought I out did myself and once I pasted it onto here I screamed. YOUR TELLING ME THIS IS HOW 5 PAGES LOOK LIKE.
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rileyglas · 2 days
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The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~ (Sneak Peek)
Out here kicking my feet like Alastor - Got part 7 queued for Friday then MAYBE part 8 next week (if ya'll like it enough) 💜 Need to catch up? Masterlist
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The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”
Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.
You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.
“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.
“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.
Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.
For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.
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You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.
Sooo now what?
After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.
“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?
“Is – is this your office, sir?”
He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”
You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.
He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.
“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”
Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”
His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”
“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything.
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brokenpieces-72 · 9 hours
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Painting Faces
Navigation
Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
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gailynovelry · 1 month
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I think about how so many resources for dealing with a hoarder house situation online come from a perspective of hatred and frustration for the person(s) perpetuating the hoarder situation in the household, and I think to myself. Would perhaps people have better results by treating the hoarder with a modicum of respect and applying harm reduction strategies to the situation? Like with addiction?
The household we live in teeters in a weird spot where multiple rooms (living room, porch, back room, guest room, upstairs bathroom) are slowly being overtaken with storage boxes.
It's not a filled-to-the-brim hoarding situation yet, but if I'm not actively organizing and cautiously removing items, it came become a really frustrating environment to live in. Blocked closets, hallways you have to squeeze through, stuff like that.
Bu I've been trying to find resources for helping someone out of a hoarding mindset, and so much "advice" approaches the person having the mindset with distaste.
"The problem with hoarders is that they don't think it's a problem!"
That's usually because they see the hoarding as a solution to some other problem, like resource insecurity, or compensating for memory loss via keepsakes. Maybe we should take those fears seriously and help them dismantle it all on their own terms?
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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:
thing that I already do
thing I have tried 10 times
thing I already do
thing that I don't have the money to do
thing I already do
thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail
thing that is impossible given my situation
thing that doesn't apply to me
thing that I already do
thing I have already tried
hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently
thing I have already done
#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things#out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever#all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever#or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple#and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already#done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and#all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3#my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster#talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo#I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache#or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop#e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all#sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef#t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of#way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I#think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i#gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant#mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain#or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right#now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like#most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once#that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY#Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth
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toytulini · 5 months
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terfs go climb into a hole and start rotting. animals cannot inherently tell your "biological sex" you are all so fucking stupid. All this post is saying is that animals are not infallible judges of character and some of them make really stupid vibe checks and that people should try not to take it personally. Unless youre a terf in which case they know and they hate you and you should take it personally
re that one post tbh i do want to stress i dont think animals are like magically psychic at knowing your True Gender tbh i think ppl definitely get way too weird about Animal's judgement of ppl.
Sometimes a dog will vibe check a man and the dog will be right and you should listen. but sometimes the dog will vibe check someone for no good reason. sometimes dogs have wack judgement. sometimes dogs have biases influenced by their owners or previous owners. like. there are Racist Dogs. its not the dogs fault, but that doesnt make the bias theyve developed less real, or less potentially hurtful. i dont think we need to like, Cancel Dogs Bc Sometimes Ppl Can Train Them To Be Racist, but we do need to stop perpetuating the idea that a dog's judgement of someone is infallible. theyre not responsible for it and its not their fault its developed, theyre just dogs, they didnt choose it, but that doesnt mean theyre RIGHT lmao. i think its important to stress this for many reasons but in regard to that last post specifically, if youve ever been vibe checked as a gender you arent by a judgy dog its literally not your fault. might not even be the owners fault. not the dogs fault cos like. its a fucking dog. you do kinda have to be the bigger person in that scenario cos the other person is. A Dog.
#toy txt post#this was meant to be a quick post it got a bit longer and more in depth than i planned oops#i just hate when ppl act like All Dogs have Inherently Correct Judgement Of People#like from every angle. its funny to joke about but i know theres ppl out there who might be feeling like#very fragile in their gender or smth and seeing a post like that if they meet a dog that normally hates men but not women but it doesnt#recognize your inherent true gender im sure seeing shit like that post can be a horr#got interrupted by a phone call while typing it and the post is glitching so i cant see where that tag is cut off so uh#dogs are like ppl in that they can develop biases and have bad judgement and they dont always get it right#they are not like ppl in that it is not possible to ask a dog to examine its biases. you cannot make a dog take a class on#critical race theory. you have to work to socialize and desensitize them against those biases or at least make sure those biases theyve#developed dont negatively impact ppl. in this sense i guess im morally obligated to try to learn more spanish to see if it helps my dog#chill. shes nervous around all new ppl but parents have anecdotally noted she extra dislikes men speaking in spanish. she was a stray so we#dont really know her history. she also does Not like fire pokers outside. weirdly even tho its basically the same tool she is unfazed by#the indoor poker for the woodstove? but ig she wouldve had less exposure to indoor woodstoves as a stray in Louisiana?#but i can see like ppl having a little backyard barbecue and threatening the big mastiff looking stray dog with a fire poker and i think#that region of the country prolly has a higher number of spanish speaking ppl than our current residence so the odds of her running into a#spanish speaking guy who isnt very nice are prolly higher just due to a denser population as a whole. and we think shes part mastiff which#i think is a breed already prone to disliking strangers that probably cooked up into a little cocktail in her brain#luckily shes bad enough with All Strangers that i think honestly it would be hard to even notice her bias? but. ig i need to see if i can#desensitize her? idk. sighs but im scared to open duolingo now 😭. but i could maybe do it. when other ppl wear hats she fucking hates it#i wear a fucking face covering mask that looks like a giant eyeball she looks at me a little quizzically but is fine. jester hat? fine#i am like that video of the person desensitizing that horse except thats just like. living w me. minus the cat thing. id never do that to#the cats or dog. everyone would hate that. squirrel already cant tolerate being held while a dog is out cos he THINKS im going to do that.#it would traumatize the dog cos he'd injure me escaping and then prolly her trying to scare her off to get past her and shes just minding#her business. solo i cant hold that long but is less likely to injure anyone. shadow. first of all all 3 are way too heavy to be holding#like that#im getting lost in the tags again sorry im chewing caffeinated gum. i should go try to buy some catnip#ive made my Phone Calls. im gonna try to go get dressed and buy various catnip products. maybe lure him with a toy this time. need my#parents to help me but not be so visibly Ready to help me next time cos i do not want to chase his ass again...
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misspickman · 5 months
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speaking of kon and family i am generally of the opinion that he never really puts a strict label on any of it because its more difficult than that, and something that is so core to his character is that he never had parents, but i will say its funny* how most people who say this are also the people who, when they see fans or dc call clark kons brother/cousin, cry about how labels make it less meaningful, theyre just family! and then turn around and call ma his grandma. so labels are only bad when clark is called something other than kons father right?
i think theres definitely merit to him never specifying who is what to him in this sense but i also think its kind of weird to refuse to acknowledge that ma and pa are his adoptive parents. like canonically. sure i still dont think its that simple and kon probably wouldnt just start calling ma his mom more than the word ma already implies, but its really obvious how much people HATE to acknowledge this or even consider it maybe even more than they hate it when clark is called kons brother/cousin. yknow like people got SO mad about kon referring to ma as his mom in that (bad) comic i saw people say its Worse than him being in a relationship with mgann..... like okay.... can u elaborate on that.. why is it worse exactly.... oh right it completely negates the possibility of clark being his father. right!
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opens-up-4-nobody · 10 months
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...
#it's so weird trying to describe yourself when u really aren't something u used to be#like until i was probably 21 or so id say i was shy. very very shy. but now im like was that even true? was i ever shy bc im not now#maybe i was just quiet and anxious. maybe thats just what being shy is. but im still both of those things but im not shy#im sorta like a hermit. i dont really go around ppl if i can avoid it but i dont hate being around ppl. its just that im less anxious when#im alone. but if u put me around ppl i like to talk to them so im not shy. ill say whatever. i dont really give a fuck#but if u throw me in a group i go back to being a non entity. i guess thats just being an introvert with an asocial streak#thats a thing i noticed while i was at the grad weekend i attended in march. the group would gather and do things while i kinda just#wandered away from them to poke at trees and sit in the snow. i dunno i just feel better away from ppl. my brain gets a lot louder if ive#been too social. which is a shame bc its interesting to watch ppl and understand how thry work#my friend came over to day goodbye before i leave next week. which was nice. i wish we would have hung out more in person but so it goes#and i think in my head im a lot more contained thst i actually am. like if u set me a task that becomes my focus but im also sorta all over#the place. partly bc i think my brain works on like a lag. and also my mood is a little elevated rn so im sorta like *jazz hands* and#talking too fast and too much and oversharing. yesterday i was instrucing an undergrad and felt so bad bc my brain was all over the place.#could not b made linear. im tired now tho bc theres nothing more draining than being emotionally honest and talking for like 2hrs. woof. it#so hot. like fucking so hot bc the monsoons have started and humidity is up so my swamp cooler is fucked and its gotta b at least 80 degree#inside my apartment. holy christ. and the temp has been over 100 degrees for like at least 2 weeks. its so hot its kinda alarming. and im#glad my friend was also freaked out by how hot its been bc oh god its hot. and i cant focus. ive done fuck all today. but i did get rid of#couch which is so so so great. ugh. someone make the sun stop making it so hot#unrelated#its been over 100 degrees outside for like 2 weeks. not on my apartment#and when i say i wish i spent more time with my friend irl. i mean it in a distant sort of way. like thats how im supposed to feel. like i#dont kno if thats actually what i feel or i kno im supposed to b social but idk if i actually mean it
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years
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i watched chrysalis again for (possible) fic research and wow that episode is fucked up in so many ways. that poor woman faked going all flowers for algernon to get out of a relationship and that is sad. also she has no friends now, because the only people she knew well aren't allowed to be with her anymore because she's "normal" and they're not. it's like. horrible. but i like how horrible it is, it's interesting to me that all these people are so terrible to themselves and each other. i know fandom tends to think julian can do no wrong but damn he fucked that one up. dude, she's not the woman you've been waiting for your whole life, she's the you you've been waiting for your whole life, except obviously she isn't and it's awful that you don't realise that. also i know what happens at the end of the series and if he's lonely at this point then how's he going to be with all his friends gone? the angst is immense. but it's not like it'd have been fixed if he had a compliant girlfriend who was only with him out of a sense of gratitude. also miles totally knew that it was doomed and just didn't want to break his bff's heart even though that was inevitably going to happen. but like. it's messy. very messy.
anyway the moral of the story is don't genetically engineer your kids, it'll just fuck them up one way or another.
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