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bunnycvnts · 1 month

Note

need you to write me some perv rafe 😌

pairing: perv!rafe x unaware!reader

summary: rafe has a small obsession with you and finds himself with the perfect opportunity to get closer to you.

warnings: pervy rafe, sexual themes, sorta??dark content, male masturbation, panty stealing (is this a warning LMFAO?)

rafe knew you. well. he knew of you. from glances in the hallway when you passed his room, headed towards sarah’s, small conversations when you joined family dinners, and the occasional interaction during parties when you wanted to score some coke on the low.

he knew you from the image he formed in his head. the one that told him your short passing glances were longing, filled with desire. that your hand brushing his at the dinner table was a sign to spread you open on the wooden table and fuck you. that you buying coke from him when there were many dealers in figure eight was because you needed an excuse to talk to him, not just because he was sarah’s older brother and would give you it a little cheaper than most.

you took up far more space in his brain than any of his little sisters friends should. more than any normal girl should. he’d never been so hell-bent on creating and imagining interactions, forcing them to happen, and putting himself in the right places at the right time if it meant he’d see you. countless nights he’d stay awake, hearing your giggles from across the hall while his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it to the sound of your voice that would slip between the cracks in the doorframe. rafe couldn’t be by the pool when you’d swim, his length creating an obvious print in the wet swim shorts that clung to his skin at the sight of your body in a small bikini, soaking wet with water dripping down your soft skin. he couldn’t look at you for too long at parties, his focus being solely on you rather than paying customers, even if you were halfway across the room in your own world.

it was safe to say he was obsessed, but it was okay, right? because you totally wanted him too. at least, that’s what he told himself.

for you, he’d always been sarah’s scary older brother that would sometimes stand a little too close, but offered you free coke at parties and would drive you home late at night, even though you only lived a block away and could definitely walk home.

rafe saw the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to you one afternoon after he’d been spending the day by the pool with you and sarah. you’d wrapped your towel around you, saying you were gonna go shower before dinner. sarah waved you off, determined to soak up every bit of sun she could. rafe watched you walk inside, water droplets leaking off of you with each step and the fat of your ass bouncing lightly, visible even through the towel.

he’d quickly sat up, throwing out an excuse of a phone call to his sister before following you inside. his steps were faster than yours, catching up to you quickly.

“hey, yo-you can use my shower if you want? that way, you don’t have to worry about wheezie or sarah trying to walk in.” he tried to sound casual, despite stumbling over his first words. you thought about it for a second before agreeing, having grown tired of trying to split sarah’s bathroom after pool days. rafe guided you upstairs, relishing in the fact that you were now standing in his room in only a small bikini and were about to be showering in his shower. you’d smell like him afterwards; his body wash would linger on your skin, and your sweet vanilla scent would linger in his bathroom. just the way he thought it should.

playing a nice host, he grabbed you a bath towel and turned the shower on for you before closing the door with a small smirk on his lips. you were quick in the shower, only washing your body and vaguely browsing through his products. when you hopped out, you realized you didn’t have your actual clothes. with a towel wrapped around your naked body and a frown on your face, you peeked through the cracked door and asked rafe to grab you your pink beach bag from sarah’s room as it held your clothes.

his eyes widened at the sight of you, but he nodded and left the room, pushing into sarah’s where he spotted your baby pink bag, your name clearly embroidered on the side. he checked over his shoulder quickly, ensuring he was alone, and opened the bag. he shuffled through it before coming across a little white thong that had a small bow on the front. rafe groaned as he shoved it in his pocket, grabbed the bag, and headed back to his room. he watched as you closed the bathroom door again and came out moments later in a sundress that showed off your tanlines from the bikini top, saying a small thank you and leaving the room entirely.

rafe took a moment to breathe, listening to your footsteps pad down the stairs. when he was sure you were gone, he rushed into the bathroom and stripped, your panties clenched in his fist. once he was under the warm shower water, your sweet scent filled the room, making him groan. his cock was throbbing, and his balls were aching for release. the fist clutching your white thong soon wrapped around his aching cock, now soaked and sudsy with his body wash. his grip was tight as he got himself off, your name spilling from his lips with every thrust of his hand. seeing something that once was worn by you wrapped around his length, your panties nonetheless, was surely enough to push him right to the edge. all he could think of was your sweet cunt dripping wetness into the soft cotton, him spreading your folds open and exploring every inch with his tongue, his cock lined with your tight entrance before pushing inside you and experiencing your warm wet cunt for the first time. what really sent him soaring over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting from his thick cock and onto the shower wall, was your voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light knock. “rafe, are you sure you grabbed all the clothes that were in the bag? some things are missing.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101

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boldlyvoid · 4 months

Text

Dear Santa

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Jack's wishlist this year only consists of one thing. He wants Y/N to be his step-mom.

A/N: Continuation of Waiting Rooms, set a year later

Warnings: slight angst trying to get Jack to share what he wants for Christmas, Haley and reader are friends, getting engaged

Word Count: 2.8K

Rosie is about to turn 1.

JJ and Will are having a big birthday bash at their place, 2 weeks before her actual birthday because being a Christmas baby is hard. Gift-giving becomes a chore, they feel overlooked as they get older, and holiday fatigue makes people not really want to add another thing to their plate. But the BAU loved any excuse to party and to spoil their godchildren— even if it wasn’t on paper like Aaron was, every single member on the team loved JJ’s children as if they were their own.

And Aaron’s girlfriend is invited to the party, too.

Everyone knows her, she’s been around a lot and Aaron loves her dearly. Even Haley likes her, invited her to the wedding back in September and everything, which came in handy when they had to take Jack home for the night to give the happy couple some alone time. Aaron had him for 2 weeks during the honeymoon, and while he was at work, Y/N basically moved into his place to take care of Jack in his absence, which Haley was only okay with because Y/N had a degree in education and was trusted with 20 plus kids every day for years. They got on well, Jack loved talking to her and playing with her, he asked to call her at night when he had weekends with Aaron and she wasn’t over… and then she moved in. Jack was over the moon.

It’s been a month now, playing family is so much easier when Y/N doesn’t have to leave ever. His house is her house and his son is her favourite little guy in the world… but he’s acting different.

There are 2 weeks until Christmas and even Haley can’t get him to make a wish list. Well, he’s made one. He’s sent it to Santa, but he wouldn’t let her see it. So, you know, she can’t buy him anything in the name of Santa. It’s stressing them out, they have no idea why he’s being so secretive this year.

They pick him up from Haley’s for the birthday party, he loves any excuse to spend time with Henry and Haley begs Aaron to try and get him to talk. To anyone. Someone on the team has to be able to crack what’s going on and get him to share what he wants. In exact specifics because if he doesn’t get what he wants on Christmas morning, there’s going to be hell to pay.

He runs off to see Henry the second they’re inside, Aaron and Y/N put the gifts in the pile and head into the kitchen to give hugs and handshakes to all their friends. Y/N hugs Penelope and JJ and she takes little Rosie into her arms for a hug and kisses the side of her head, making Aaron swoon. “I can’t believe you’re so big!” She teases, brushing her nose against Rosie’s hair.

“I know,” JJ sighs, shaking her head. “I wish I could keep them this tiny forever…”

“Me too,” Aaron agrees. Looking off into the other room where the kids are all playing and making noise. “Things are easier when they’re 1.”

“I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “I think 4 is treating Henry well.”

“Has he told you what he wants for Christmas?” Y/N asks right away.

They both nod, “why?” JJ asks.

“Jack won’t tell us,” Aaron complains. “He made his letter, didn’t let me or Haley look and then mailed it away when he met Santa at the mall… we have no idea what he wants and he won’t tell us.”

“Well, last year his Christmas was a lot to take,” Derek reminds them. “His mom getting engaged so soon after your divorce is going to stick out to him… his whole world changed last Christmas.”

“Do you think maybe he asked Santa to bring you two together again?” Penelope asks, hesitant but onto something.

Aaron shakes his head, “no, he loves Scott. Talks very highly about him and their time together on weekdays.”

“Hm,” Emily hums. “You want one of us to talk to him?”

“I’m not sure,” Aaron’s honest. “Maybe Spencer, or Y/N even… I don’t want him to think he’s in trouble for not talking to us about his Wishlist.”

“I’ll do it,” Y/N volunteers, handing Rosie over to Aaron so he can have a snuggle with his god-daughter. “I’ll ask Henry too, just to cover my bases. Get them talking, see what’s up.”

“Thank you,” Aaron leans in and presses a kiss to her lips while Rosie clings to him.

They watch her leave and as soon as the coast is clear everyone's vibe switches. “So…” Derek is the first to tease him.

“When are you going to have another one?” Emily continues.

Aaron shakes his head with a blush. Rosie is snuggled into his chest, head on his shoulder, he leans his cheek against her head and holds her close. She’s always loved him, she finds him calming and it’s probably because he’s so stern and has his emotions under control… also because he’s family. He was the 4th person to hold her in her entire life and he loved her because he loved her mother so much.

“When she asks,” he’s honest.

“Oooo,” JJ teases with a smirk. “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked with how often she sees you with babies now.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I think she wants to be married before she has kids. She’s traditional, I can’t blame her…”

“So when are you going to ask?” Penelope asks, desperate to know.

He shrugs, “We haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a year, we just moved in together, and we’d have to plan it all around her teaching schedule. There’s a lot to consider. I want to make sure she’s okay with my schedule, the long hours and the not being around— I mean, she’s good with Jack, she spends time with him when we get called out and she hasn’t said she has a problem with it but—

“but it’s happened to you once before,” JJ understands.

He nods, “I love her too much to lose her too.”

They all understand that.

“She’s had time to run,” Emily adds. “If she didn’t like your job or the hours or missing you as much as I’m sure she does— she would’ve left already. She’s not the kind of woman to push her feelings down and just coast. She says what she feels and gets what she wants and what she wants is you and the life you’re building and the family you’ve welcomed her into.”

His heart swells, “I hope so.”

—

She plays with them for a bit, driving cars around a town printed on a carpet and making all the automobile noises with a smile. She loved this little boy so much, he was the best thing to come into her life since his dad.

“Did you guys ask for more cars for Christmas?” She pries.

Henry nods, but jack doesn’t say anything. He keeps driving, avoiding the question.

“What else did you ask for Henry?”

“a—

“Don’t tell her!” Jack cuts him off. “If you say it out loud it doesn’t come true.”

“What?” She asks, almost laughing but she holds back. “Who told you that?”

“No one…” he shakes his head, looking like he’s thinking hard.

“Then why do you think it works like that?”

“It’s like birthday wishes,” he explains.

“What did you wish for on your birthday last year?” She asks, trying to figure out if he got it or not, to see if that’s why he thinks this.

“The Spider-Man Hot Wheels track,” he explains.

“And did you tell anyone?” She asks, he shakes his head. “And you got it?”

“I did…”

“What about Christmas last year? Did you tell anyone what you wanted?”

“I made a list but… what I wanted most I told Santa and then it happened,” he whispers. “For mommy to get married to Scott.”

“Oh,” her heart swells. “Oh, Jack. You know, that’s just because you told Santa and he can make things come true, but sometimes Santa can’t get all your gifts and he’ll reach out to your mommy and daddy and say hey, the 3rd thing on Jack's list I couldn’t make at my factory so you can get that for him. But Santa can’t talk to your mom or dad about presents unless you do too… he can’t tell your secrets.”

“Oh,” he thinks hard about it. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, when I was little we didn’t have a chimney so my dad actually had to wait up for Santa and let him into the house,” she explains the old lie her parents used to tell her. “They became good friends and Santa was always so happy to hear they got me the things he couldn’t make.”

“I only put one thing on my list,” he frowns, scared now that he won’t get anything if it doesn’t come true.

He starts to cry and she pulls him right into her lap, cradling him, “Oh, buddy it's okay. We can make a second list, explain everything to Santa and send it tonight, he’ll get it in time.”

“You think?” He asks, looking up at her with those big hotchner brown eyes.

She nods, “Come on, let’s go ask Aunty JJ if she has some paper.”

They get up off the carpet and she carries him into the kitchen again, they get paper and a pencil and they sit down at the kitchen table together with Aaron standing over his shoulder. He puts down a couple things he’s seen on commercials between TV shows and things he’s seen in the store with his mom and she looks up at Aaron who smiles. He can get these things, there’s still lots of time to make sure his Christmas is good.

But she wanted to know what his big present was… she needed to tell Aaron everything and they needed to work it out. They can’t ruin the magic of Christmas for him because this year his big wish doesn’t come true.

—

At home that night, they sit in bed and she tells him everything and his heart breaks a bit. “He has 1 wish and we have no idea what it is.”

“I know,” she leans back against the pillows, just as panicked as he is. “Is there any way you can contact the mall and find out what Santa was working on that day and maybe, just maybe he remembers what Jack said?”

“I can try… but I might just have Haley and Scott sit him down and have him watch Here Comes Santa Clause, make sure he has the real story and knows that it’s not like a birthday wish. Saying it doesn’t stop it from coming true,” Aaron explains. “I need him to have a good Christmas with us this year.”

“He will,” she assures, cuddling into his side. She places her hand on his chest and he wraps his arm around her so she can get closer. “We all will.”

—

Aaron goes off on another case just before Christmas, Y/N spends the night before Jack’s arrival for his week at their house, wrapping presents. They’ve managed to get him everything he asked for. They split the list in half, Haley got him a bunch, they got him the rest and then they all threw in some practice things from themselves.

Haley had dropped off her Santa gifts early, they’re hidden up in the attic so he can’t find them before Christmas morning. He’s going to be one spoiled boy…

Aarons is still not back when Jack gets there. He’s so close to finishing the case, he should be home in a day. Till then, she’s more than happy to spend some one-on-one time with Jack.

He runs upstairs to his room to put his bag away and Y/N gets a few minutes alone with Haley, “has he said anything?”

She smirks, nodding, “he did…”

She lights right up, “what? Can we get it in time?”

“He wants you to be his step-mommy,” Haley whispers, stepping into her space and rubbing her arm. “So unless you want Aaron to be the one to propose, you should get a ring.”

She’s in a state of shock for a while, Jack goes to bed after dinner and she just sits in the living room with her drink and the TV on low and she stares off. She has no idea what to do. Does she tell Aaron? Do they talk about it? Should they get rings together and make a plan? She could just get a ring and ask him? But does she get a ring for herself or for him? Would he even want a ring or would he maybe like a watch?”

There’s a million things buzzing around her head and then the lock clicks over. The door opens and Aaron’s briefcase hits the floor before it closes.

“Hey,” he smiles as he sees her. “You’re still up?”

“What time is it?” She asks, having genuinely no idea.

“Close to midnight… are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah,” she shakes her thoughts away and gets up to give him his big home-coming hug.

She wraps herself around him, breathes him in and settles against his body. His big hands on her back, the warmth of his chest, the feeling of his lips on her forehead… it all feels like home. He’s her home.

“I love you,” she whispers against his chest.

He cups her face and pulls her attention up to his eyes. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Haley cracked the code,” she breaks down, it all falls out as she looks at him. He’s so soft, he’s so good to her… she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. “Jack wants us to get married too. He wants a stepmom and a stepdad. He wants two complete families at both his houses and I don’t blame him.”

Aaron’s face lights right up, “he said that? Really?”

She nods, “Last year he got a stepdad, this year he wants me to join the family…”

“Do you want to?” He asks, making sure they’re on the same page.

She nods, letting it all out, “I love you so much Aaron, there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and that beautiful boy upstairs.”

“What kind of ring do you want?”

—

When Christmas morning rolled around, Jack was surprised to see the mountain of presents under the tree. They let him go crazy, opening everything with his name on the tag while Aaron picked up the wrapping paper and put it in a plastic garbage bag.

Y/N sat back, enjoying the show and taking photos to share with Haley later.

Everything he wanted is there in front of him, already assembled and batteries put in them. He gets an apple and some candy in his stalking as well as a toothbrush that has the spider-man theme song built in for 2 minutes of optimal brushing. He gets some fun bath soaps and new crayons and a bunch of socks and underwear. It’s a perfect Christmas.

But there is still 1 more gift.

“Hey Jack, what’s that?” Aaron points to the tree. A small, little box is wrapped up and placed on a branch. “Did you miss one?”

He wanders up to the tree and takes the box in his hands. “There’s no name?”

“Huh,” Y/N pretends to be shocked. “You can open it, maybe you can figure out who it’s for?”

He carefully peels the wrapping off and notices it's a velvet box. He opens it up like a book and then gasps when he notices it’s a ring. “Dad?”

“That’s not for me,” he smiles. “Santa must've known I wanted to ask her... can you help me?”

His face lights right up and he brings it over to Y/N. She hadn’t seen the ring yet, it was a surprise but in the style she explained. He sits down next to her and watches her take it out of the box. “Is this for me?”

“Will you marry my dad?” he asks, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the Christmas tree lights.

She tears up, she knew this would be emotional but hearing him say that… makes her heart grow 10 times its size. She nods, “Of course I will, I love him so much.”

Aaron joins them, kneeling in front of her. He takes the ring from her hand, “I love you,” he reminds her as he slips it onto her ring finger. “I always will.”

She pulls him up for a kiss and holds him close and Jack takes the initiative to join, getting between them, he snuggles in close. Happier than ever that his Christmas wish came true for a second year in a row.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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shallyouobeyme · 7 months

Text

Spicey

Yandere!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader (GN)

Summary: Bakugo is convinced the two of you are meant for each other, born on the same day and friends since then, and he will go to great lengths to make sure you stay near him. It's all worth it though when you do something for him, no matter how small...

! Minors Do No Interact!

TW: Actually just very soft!Yandere Bakugo, Me being a dumbass and switching between using Bakugos first and last name a lot, mention of Bakugo maybe or maybe not threatening some people

Your friendship with Katsuki had been going strong for as long as you could remember, your mothers had met in the hospital after giving birth and the two of you had already been lying in bassinets beside each other. Soon, your mothers were fast friends and play dates between Katsuki and you became a common, mostly weekly occurrence. And so it might have been the nature of the situation or it was always meant to be like that, but as you both grew up, your friendship only grew closer.

Now, one might assume that given the closeness the two of you have had for your entire life, Katsuki must perceive you as a sister, but one would be wrong. Sure, Katsuki saw you as someone he had to protect and who was an unchangeable part of his life, but you weren't his honorary sister, no, he hadn't seen you as anything family-wise since he had been old enough to know what romance was. No, you were going to be his spouse, you already were the love of his life and nothing would change that.

With this goal in mind, he made sure throughout his entire life that you were close by, made sure his presence as a perspective (definite) spouse of yours was drilled into your mind. Your parents wanted to move, unhappy with their landlord? Bakugo was the one who gave your father all the information about a beautiful property near his childhood home with the landlord being very, very kind - and always seeming a little scared when dealing with your family. You were thinking about attending a school specialized in one of your hobbies? Bakugo took you on a campus tour at U.A. (as if he ever needed it) under the guise of being the one who wanted to see more of it and, who would have thought, the support course could make perfect use of your quirk and the teacher is really keen on you attending. Maybe you should attend U.A. with him, don't worry, he'll help you study and he'll make sure you get in.

Even after the attacks on his class - luckily not on you though or he might have lost his mind completely - and the students moving into the dorms, he somehow manages to convince Nezu to move your room near his instead of where it would usually be near your class. Don't worry, he knows you don't know many of his classmates (because he didn't 'want to share you with them), but he's there and he'll make sure you'll feel comfortable. He'll even go to those interior decoration stores and buy you things to make your room more cozy - oh, you want to pay for your own stuff? Don't be silly, he only buys you stuff, because his mom is rich and he wants to spite her by paying with her money.

A lot of your off time is now spent in either your or Bakugo's room, often studying or just hanging out doing your own thing just enjoying each other's presence. But sometimes when you asked really sweetly, maybe gave him a little kiss on the cheek, and he knew no one would surprise the two of you, he'd do things you wanted to do specifically - be it Spa Days, book clubs, trying out specific baking recipes, or even something as simple as watching a chick-flick (something Katsuki will never, ever admit he secretly enjoys doing with you).

It was safe to say that a lot of things the two of you did were catered to your interests and hobbies, because - as stated before - Katsuki wanted you to know how perfect of a husband he'd be for you. But he didn't mind, everything done for you was something he did gladly and something he'd do again without a second thought. Still, whenever you did something specifically for him or whenever you went out of your way without a cause to make him happy, he was over the moon. The feeling he got when that happened - which to be fair wasn't rare, but he still relished it every time - was something better than any win in a fight, any villain he ever did or ever will beat, and better than any feeling of superiority he got over his classmates when he did something that proved him being better than them.

One such occurrence happened on a weekend spent at his house while both of your parents were on a trip out of the city, which gave Katsuki the perfect excuse to play house in his mind with you, in his head he liked to pretend that you and him were married and spent a relaxing day in your spousal home. He had been spending the last few hours at the gym in his basement training - he didn't want to get out of shape and make you think that he'd let you go once you'll be married - and when he came upstairs he smelled something delicious, quite honestly it felt a little bit like he was a husband working all day, coming home after a busy day to his loving spouse who was already preparing dinner for the two of you.

"You're cooking?" Katsuki asked as he walked into the kitchen, savouring the view of you looking so very cute and precious nodding your head to some imaginary tune as you stirred something in a pot.

"Yes!" you answered excitedly as you smiled back at him, "I know you usually like to make dinner, but I saw this new recipe online and I really wanted to try it and it turns out you had all the ingredients for it. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," Katsuki gave you one of his rare smiles behind your back, just wishing he could come up to you - hug you from behind and give you a kiss, "I'll just quickly take a shower and then we eat, okay?"

A mere five minutes later, because Katsuki was too excited to take his time and rushed to the shower as quick as he humanly could, the two of you were sitting at the dinner table (gosh, Katsuki's mind would replay this day in his mind for months) and you served him a bowl of a Ramen-variation. Katsuki was prepared to act like this was the best-tasting meal in the whole world, just to see you smile at him, but what he was not prepared for was that after his first bite, his mouth exploded with flavour. Any normal person would have started crying at this point from the spicey goddess that just happened in his mouth, but Katsuki was more than used to this so he enjoyed it immensely. It was probably one of the best spicey Ramens he had ever tried - a main factor in this probably being that you made it.

You looked at him with a worried gaze as you were biting on your lip, waiting for his reaction: "It's too mild is it? I knew I should have added more spices," you sighed, looking disappointed in yourself, so Katsukio quickly stopped those doubts.

"It's perfect, really, this is just right. I was just surprised that you made it this Spicey, I mean, I know that you are a bit more sensitive with your puny, little tastebuds," Katsuki teased you a little bit and you blushed as you smiled a bit cheekily.

"I actually made a bowl without most spices just for me, but I wanted to do something nice for you for once - you're always doing so much for me and I wanted to."

Love pulsed in Katsuki's heart. This was the exact moments he was living for. This had to mean you loved him back, why else would you do something so amazing for him? Katsuki never had any doubts that the two of you were meant for each other - after all, you were even born on the same day, brought into this world together to live in this world together - but now he was even more sure than ever and maybe he would actually tell you what he was feeling soon. Maybe...

N/A: Thank you all for reading today's entry in my Yandere Writetober, I hope you enjoyed this and if you did, that you might feel inclined to reblog or comment. Tell me what you think, tell me what the weather is like, I don't mind either.

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factual-fantasy · 18 days

Text

23 asks! Thanks a bunch! :}} 🌠

@mimiocto

She does! Her name is Gloria :))

And if my motivation and health stays in my favor.. ya'll will learn a bit more about her and Bonnie soon... 👀👀👀

(Referencing this post)

The secret 9th eeveeloution, ghost type! <XD

@octonauts16

....Whelp, guess I'm canceling my Netflix account! <XD

(Monopoly post in question)

It was mostly a joke, XDD but none the less I'm sure no one would have taken it too much to heart! Its well known that Grim and V have a very strong bond so no one would have been surprised XDD

@candyglumboy

Thank you so much!! :DDD

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I'm glad!! :}}}

(Comic in question)

YOU!!! YOU GET IT!!!! WAHAAG THABK YOU!!! 😭😭💖💖💞

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD💞

I just slap the watermark on the drawing as its own layer and lower the opacity :00 usually putting a back blob cloud behind it at lower opacity if more visibility is needed!

....If that made any sense at all--

@userplaysminecraft

This is amongst the highest compliments my fanart can receive. Thank you 🥺🥺🥺

:DD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you love it!! :}}

@minnesotamedic186

Alas, I do not have a good tablet or stylus.. :((

But that's ok! I think I'm getting better! <:D .. I hope so at least! <:}}

@holly-opal

I haven't really ironed it out yet.. but one thing stays consistent. It sucked.

I wanted to create a situation where Mario and Luigi both did not want to go back to Earth. Sure there are things that would undoubtedly bother them a bit that I couldn't just whisk away. Never seeing another human again, never seeing any animals again.. Never hearing human songs again.. never tasting the food from Earth again..

But what I could do is make their old lives so horrible, that they were both willing to give up what they had for this new life as the "Hero's of Legend."

I pictured Mario and Luigi both being very poor. Just barely making it paycheck to paycheck. No friends, no family. No sentimentals even. Perhaps their childhood home burnt down.. so no family photo albums or old plushies to be attached to..

I couldn't decide what kind of relationship they had with their parents.. but either way, they've passed on. They worked a crappy job as plumbers which they both hated. They lived in a cruddy apartment that was too small for them. Rotten neighbors, disrespectful customers..

I pictured them having this terrible company van or truck that always broke down and stunk of cigarettes thanks to the previous owner. They were drowning in debt and bills. Trynna pay off the van, trynna buy new clothes, trynna by food...

I even imagined some of their bills and debt were medical related. I imagined Luigi being very ill and them being unable to afford food and medicine.. So Mario stole food from his clients. Maybe even robed a store or two. Now they've got "criminal" added to their list of problems.

They hated their apartment. They hated the van, they hated their neighbors, they hated people, they hated the world. They hated their lives. The only thing they had the room in their hearts to love was each other. The only thing that didn't hurt them or make them cry was each other. The only thing that made living in this horrible world worth it, was each other.

Then the mushroom kingdom came along.. "Hero's of Legend?" Magical powers? Kind people who care about us and respect us? No more debt, no more bills, no more van or apartment, no more stealing, just.. adventure. And they get to experience it all with their most favorite person in the world?

Why would they ever want to go back?

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

Alas, I do not know of any. :((( But I can imagine that the crew is nerdy enough to make their own shanty! A theme song of sorts. And you can bet that Seafoam would take pride in that song and sing it loudly with the rest of the crew! XD

@neo-metalscottic (100,000 reblogs post in question) (Octo clarification post)

Awe! That's so kind! Thank you!! :DD And I've been very glad to see my condition improve too 😌 though I'm not quite out of the thick of it yet.. :(( I hope I can fully beat it soon! <:))

As for the Great green toad king and company, I have actually never heard of them before! <:0 Though it would be very easy to label them as some far off kingdom and not put much thought into it <XDD Perhaps some of the species found in that kingdom could have become wandering travelers like Wario and Waluigi? Maybe we'd see them that way? :00

Now I know mentioning Birdo was a joke XDD But I do have plans for the Birdo species! :00

I had this idea that Yoshi's used to be smaller, about the same size they are in canon. Back then they acted as these passive.. almost farm like animals..?? In a way?? The toads used them to haul carts and as a form of transportation. Like horses! But eventually the Yoshis discovered "Yoshis island". A fruitful island planted in the middle if a giant river. A large sum of the Yoshis migrated from the forest and began to live there. Eating the super fruits and veggies it produced and slowly transforming into the giant mega Yoshis that are there today.

However, not all the Yoshi's left. A fair amount of them were kept and somehow made their way to the coast near Daisy's Kingdom. After generations and generations of Yoshi's eating red cheep cheeps and living in the water, they transformed and are now called Birdos. In present day Yoshi's and Birdos are extremely closely related, though they look a bit different from each other. And while Yoshi's come in all different colors, most Birdos grow up to be different shades of red, Pink and purple due to their red cheep cheep diet. Just like flamingos! :D

Anyways- on to the Goombas. The Goombas start out as these very poisonous brown mushrooms and are brought to life by Kamek. They form mouths and the poison that they originally had becomes poisonous saliva. So when they bite someone the poison does its job.. Even if who ever they bite is somehow immune to their poison, their bites are still nasty. They're dirty creatures and they really shred you up.. So the chance of natural infection is there none the less-

And WHAAAT?? Illumination whyyyyyyy 😭😭I love Toadsworth you had no right to scrap him--

And wow! That last battle looks crazy! My only question is who's this guy?? <XDD I don't recognize him!

Anywho- thanks again for the ask! Feel free to send more Mario ones, or not, which ever you please! I'd love to read what ever you may send :}}}

8 0 0 0 P A G E S ? ? ?

@pink088

That is the most cursed creature I have ever seen- XDD

I wanna say Louis has the most wins, buuuttttt Seafoam is so much bigger than Louis.. I feel like he would have the ability to overthrow him just by using his own body weight XDD Its hard to say!

(Ask was sent in response to this post)

SKSKKDJH ACTUALLY THO XDDDD

Oh- in order to make these ask posts I take screenshots of the asks, crop them, and then compile them all together. Usually I put them together on Tumblr desktop, so they're all blue.

But recently I've been batting some health problems and have been stuck on the couch all day.. which means that I've been making my ask posts on Tumblr mobile. Which is all black themed for me :00

Aw, thank you! Though I advice eating it with a spoon actually! In order to scoop up the tears of the characters- XDD

@caronaro-flipaclip

:0 Sponchbop! :DD Its hard to feel down with him around!

@beryl-shade

I have written many stories where characters have lost family or friends to death... but as for a character that was in the main story and I actually drew them? ..Not that I can recall! :0

#my response #super mario bros #pokemon scarlet and violet #gardevoir #ampharos #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

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princessbrunette · 9 months

Note

would you please write more for modern ani I love him sm

poorly edited ani with ugly tattoos and piercings but you get the gist ….. have some headcanons

minors + ageless blogs dni im so serious

♡ he’s always in your reach. whether he’s your best friends brother, the guy that works at the garage or tattoo shop, the guy in your lectures that shows up every few classes to sit at the back and chew on his pen whilst somehow knowing the answer to every question. he’s mysterious, but everywhere.

♡ you see more of his tongue that you thought you might. always peaking out to fiddle with the snakebite piercings below his rosy bottom lip when he’s concentrated, or bulging into his cheek when he lets out a sarcastic or pissed off chuckle when someone’s running their mouth. you overhear him speaking with a friend, instructing “just make your tongue flat if it’s too sensitive and more pointed if they need more pressure. i don’t fucking know, it’s not hard.” and you wonder if he’s talking about what you think he’s talking about.

♡ he takes interest in you because of your soft edges and kind eyes and well, the fact you’re his total opposite. he thinks it’s funny to sit on a plush pink duvet surrounded by ‘pointless’ throw cushions and decorative plushies and blankets whilst he’s dressed in all black with his chronic resting bitch face. okay, funny isn’t the word. he thinks it’s sexy.

♡ he’s a little mean but never cruel. grumpy would describe him more accurately. not a morning person, and shoots daggers at anyone who makes loud noises before 10AM. he’s teasing you and poking fun at you before he starts flirting with you properly because he just can’t help himself, bullying is how he flirts. but don’t get it twisted, once he’s in a relationship with you he is uncharacteristically the worlds biggest simp known to man.

♡ obsessive and possessive. you’re both aware it’s not his best trait, but you secretly like it and he knows that. his love language is essentially threatening to kill anyone who looks at you let alone lays eyes on you. if you’re ranting about your day and happened to tell him about someone giving you attitude, it would become very “you’re lucky i wasn’t there, would have beat the fuck out of him.” fast. will also shamelessly pull you closer to him when another guy looks at you, and side eye you with the worst attitude if you dare laugh a little harder than usual at a man’s jokes.

♡ always stuffing his dirty blonde curls under backwards caps, but let’s you take it off him so you can run your fingers through them at the end of the day. he’s a sucker for a head massage. will repay you by making you cum on his fingers.

♡ he’s the cool boyfriend. determined to win over your family even if his tattooed / pierced appearance is a concern. compliments your mothers cooking, talks about sports with your dad, bonds over video games with your little brother or buys your sister that thing she was talking about last time he saw her. even let’s your grandma pinch his cheeks and call him handsome (but if grandmas coming round, he wears long sleeves and takes out his piercings. anything for grandma.) if you don’t get on with your family, he becomes your family and practically kidnaps you into his own.

♡ wont let you pay for anything. respectfully, he does not care if paying is your love language— he was raised to pay for his girl and that’s what he’ll do, arguments be damned. he’ll take extra shifts to be able to spoil you, coming home with grease smeared on him from the garage, kissing your cheek before heading off to shower, transferring “a little something” to your bank account after you were rambling about that skims dress you wanted or whatever it was.

♡ constantly wearing sweatpants and looks damn good wearing them too. black sweatpants mostly, but he pulls out the grey ones when he’s trying extra hard to get laid that night. same goes for basketball shorts, walking around your apartment wearing them with no shirt on, no underwear beneath the shorts, thick and long length practically swinging around. he chuckles when you gasp and call him a slut.

♡ he plays basketball and soccer, always has. but his favourite pastime has got to be pool. he’s become a champion at his best friends pool table— bringing you round to showcase his effortless skill and teach you (mainly because he won’t pass up the opportunity to see you bent over a table and feel you up.)

♡ always needs your full attention when he speaks, so if your eyes drift off from him when he’s talking to you he won’t hesitate to gently grip your jaw and pull your face back to look at him. he’ll do it infront if anyone he doesn’t care, minus your parents of course.

♡ puts in the WORK during sex. he is competitive with himself, and a perfectionist — so he won’t be satisfied until he’s knows you inside out. this means he’s incredibly vocal, if he’s not asking you if you like what he’s doing (“that feel good, pretty? talk t’me i wanna hear you.”) he’s praising you for being responsive (“good girl, good fucking girl. i know baby, you like that shit huh.”)

♡ pussy eating king. will even wear the white tshirt with pink font spelling “PROUD MUNCH” across the chest when he goes out with you that you got him. thinks it’s funny yeah, but likes everyone to know you’re taken care of.

♡ listens to fuckboy music around the clock. when he picks you up in his car, best believe you can hear that brent faiyaz coming from a mile away. his taste is pretty broad though, he just loves the sexy r&b to be blasting when you’re being his pretty little passenger princess.

#anon #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut

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oddballwriter · 3 months

Text

Puppy Love

Summary: Jake asks if you want a puppy, you think he's joking, but now you and the boys actually have a puppy.

Warnings: Nothing really. Just a little blurb about you and the boys getting a fur baby.

Author’s Snip: My and my family recently got two puppies, pugs, and idk I just thought of this.

Notes: I believe and support "adopt, don't shop". Always make sure you do research and look into where you get your pets if you want one to make sure you aren't buying from mills. Also, please look into rescues and fosters too, they deserve a chance at getting happy homes. Okay my PSA is over.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 758

When Jake asked you "Do you want a puppy?", you thought it was a joke, and you laughed, but when he looked up at you from his phone on his place on the couch you felt like maybe it wasn't. "Are you serious?" you question.

Jake turns his phone so that you can see the screen, revealing a picture of a large litter of what looked to be cocker spaniel puppies. "I know this guy. His girl's dog got out and got knocked up." Jake explained, "She popped out ten puppies and they want them out.". You look at the picture for a bit longer, maybe looking a little too softly at the litter since Jake asked if you want one.

"I don't know." you say, "What are the others thinking?" you ask. Judging off the smile Jake does, Marc and Steven have no idea about this. "Who cares. It's a puppy. Everyone likes puppies." Jake shrugs. "They won't be a puppy forever, Jake. And we live in a flat," you attempt to list off. Jake rolls his eyes, "I know. These dogs aren't that big though. It'll do fine. There are parks around, we can walk it around one of them." he explains. You think about it for a moment, not too sure what to say. Jake also picks up on that and says "Think about it.".

"I'll think about it and we tell the others about it." you say.

Marc wasn't too thrilled, but he also didn't really oppose it either. "It's a lot of work. We have to train it. And pay for vets and food and all that." and so on which Marc seemed to not like the sound of. "You were able to pay rent for a flat and a storage unit, Steven has a million books and trinkets, and Jake owns a bunch of cars. We all can sacrifice some money for them." you mention, and Marc acknowledged your point. "Okay. I'll think about it." he said.

Steven seemed more open, more focused on having the idea of having another pet than the price tag attached that had Marc on the fence. "It would be nice. Have a new addition. After all, the Gus' doesn't really do much other than swim around." is what he said about the idea. "We'd have to get one that's very calm though. So that we don't get a complaint about barking." he commented in a mutter.

And with that, and Marc letting up and going with the idea, you and Jake drove to his friend's place to meet the pups. On the way there Jake said to keep yourself together and not show any emotion because "He might want to get rid of them as quick as he can, but I'm sure he wants to make some good money while doing it.". It wasn't easy, but you managed to do good when interacting with them to see which one you wanted.

Going off of what each one of you wanted in your potential future dog you managed to find one that was more interested in sniffing and laying down on you than playing and running around like the rest of their siblings.

"That one doesn't do too much. He just lays around and chews on a toy every once in a while. The most I've seen him do is whine when he wants food and bite his siblings if they're trampling him." the guy says, "Good if you want something that just lays down with you." he remarks.

After some more talk, you decided that he was the one that you would take home. After Jake paid and the guy making a comment about getting the puppy fixed as soon as possible, the rest of the day was a long trip to the pet store to get everything he needed. Kibble, bowls, a bed, a collar, pads, a few toys, the whole lot. By the end of it, Jake's car was full of stuff and his pockets less full than when he left.

"You owe us, beba." Jake smirked nudging you playfully. "Jake. Not in front of the baby." you scold back in the same humor making him laugh.

"So," Jake said, "What are we naming him?" he asked. You look at the little thing in your arms and think for a moment. "Jake Jr." you joke. Jake laughs and says no, and the joke goes on with suggesting Steven Jr. and Marc Jr. until you shrug and settle on figuring that out some other time.

#moonknight #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader

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garpond · 6 months

Text

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn

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dimepdf · 10 months

Text

★ 𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒, 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. your small town was known to those who carried money in their pockets, especially attention-grabbing men like Miguel, who needed a place to stay in town for the night. luckily, your hostel-owning cousin is willing to make just the perfect bargain for the traveler.

─── ☆ notes. oh brother here we go again. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4k (30 minute read)

THE POPULATED TOWN of Edgewater was a place you called home. It was strange when it came to its fair share of travelers, from coin-hungry merchants to empty welding warriors and the cobbled roads that stretched from land to the seashore.

Edgewater was known for its lively community, always something happening from dusk till dawn, the moon only encouraging those of the night to linger on.

Most would call it anarchy. You would call it a pisspot full of people who didn't know what else to do with their lives, so all they could do was drink.

Your uncle, who had owned one of the town's most sought-after local love hostels, catered to the sleazy travelers that would stumble their way into the heart of the town with more coin than they knew what to do with, calling the grotty drunken things that would come through looking for an easy way to settle their darkest desire good for business.

Your uncle, who wasn't actually your uncle but had been the closest thing you unfortunately considered family since the day you could first remember, had always been guided towards the promise of good wealth. He was a grimy older man you had been stuck with since he had first adopted you after your mother's unfortunate passing. She had been one of his workers who had collected more debt than the men she would have ever bedded combined.

Debt that had been carried on down like a tragic legacy, leaving you shackled as the one and only handmaiden forced to clean whatever was leftover from the men you would envy as they had the ability to actually leave. Your forced imprisonment was the main reason why you would snide at every man that would struggle through the front door, drunk fools with not enough coins in their pockets to pay for rent or take care of their families back at home, yet just enough to come to your uncle's love hotel and buy off one of the mistresses to give them a temporary good time.

You thought them to be all the same, balding drunks running away from their lives off with some mistress that falsely tolerated the disappointment that they used to think with between their legs for the coins in their pockets. You couldn't blame them for their jobs. In fact, you preferred to be the one scrubbing the aftermath, then bed with some of the toothless, grimy slobs considered customers your uncle would welcome as if they were his old friends.

You would even consider the fact of having some sort of liking for your job. Being considered a lowly maid came with its rare but useful perks. Other than not being a lady of the night because you were too busy wiping the stained cum from sheets, you were allowed to dawn more comfy drapes, allowed to eat whatever you pleased without your uncle chastising you about your weight since your body wasn't his to display, and lastly, the best part of it all: the eavesdropping.

The town was big with gossip, word to mouth was how normally word would spread throughout businesses and homes faster than the ink would dry from the papers being passed out. Since you were the only real task hand in the love hostile most upkeep jobs besides cleaning were included in your wages. During afternoon runs through the market, you oh so loved to keep an ear out for bickering couples, big-mouthed children, or even merchants that would slip their tongues of secrets.

Said way was also how you caught word of an interesting wanderer that had stepped foot on the town's soil. With whispers of a dark-skinned, broadening warrior that stood out from the rest, hipping an iron sword and battle scars, you heard word that he was merking somewhere around for a place to rest for the day, along with some supply trading.

Your brow almost raises at the mention of places to stay the night. Edgewater was a place where you could murder someone and then sell the clothes off their back for a nice dime, not necessarily the place you could go trusting just about anyone to stay the night, especially if you were lugging around the type of gear the merchants already had as big as the target on your back as this guy did.

This is why you were surprised later in the night to see two men ram their way through the front door of the building. You were working on sweeping some of the dust from the wooden floorboards near the entrance, almost flinching out of your own skin as the doors slammed open. You quickly collected yourself, holding back from muttering something rude under your breath instead of turning to greet the guest.

An older man, who you had assumed to be the cause of the door hinges being in their last life, stumbled in and almost slumped over if it weren't for the man beside him carrying his drunken dead weight as he rambled on and on to the other man he leaned against about how great this hostile was for the eye candy and how he whiffed on and on about how he could get them both discounted personal rooms just to prove his point. The other man made you halt in greeting, almost choking on your words as you took in his appearance.

You were starting to understand how he had managed to grab the town's attention now that you were able to see him with your own eyes. He was a much taller man compared to the other, you only assumed he'd be taller in his own height if it weren't for his hunched structure, practically lugging a grown man on his left shoulder. He had been a fit fighter for the warrior description, with his broadened shoulder and the peak of muscles from his sleeve being yanked up as the dark curtain of hair that shields most of his face from where you stood. Though his clothes were tatted and worn-looking, on his hip was sheathed a sword.

His presence alone would suffocate you alone if it weren't for the awkward situation of him babysitting some bubbling idiot. It only took seconds for your uncle to come budging in, greeting the two and settling them into separate rooms. He had managed to even squeeze a little more coin out of the newcomer, your uncle offering him a place for the entire night since he heard he had nowhere to stay "out of the kindness of his heart." You almost snorted at his fancy act of knocking up the prices and throwing in packages that didn't exist to the poor mystery tourist.

Since the unnamed stranger's arrival, the powder room has erupted into a fit of frenzy. You hadn't seen this many of the women chatter about being excited and happy since a few years back when a strangler of men came back to town with their hunt earnings and decided to make the poor decision of blowing all their newly earned money in one night.

It was sad to say that the excitement would slowly die out more and more as the night progressed. Even though who you considered the most stunning women to come back with pouty faces and empty pockets cussing the new handsome-faced fellow's name under their breaths, the man had managed to do his rounds of rejecting just about every working lady in the hostile, much to your uncle's dismay, who at first just waved his dismissal off as him being just being another picky man with a type.

Your uncle wanted to charge him for more than just the bed he had offered him, yet no matter how many times he would send a new girl to his doorstep, the man had gotten to the point of annoyance where he wouldn't even bother to have the courtesy of not slamming the door closed in their face before they could utter a word. Unfortunately, due to their demise for failed flirting, you were the very last option at your uncle's attempt at ringing money out of the warrior's pockets. You put up a quiet fight, making every excuse under the sun until your uncle flat out struck you across the face and spat that he would threaten to stop giving you pay and instead add the wages you've collected to the long list of debts you were trying to pay off.

The threat was enough to have you taking your sweet old time, shuffling your feet against the floorboards, making your way down to the stranger's door, your hands tracing over the soft throb of the cut he had lifted, marked in a scratch from the backhand of one of his rings. You hadn't even bothered changing out of the clothes you had been working in all day. Instead of protesting with what was left of your pride in your hands, you held some spare straw pillows that your uncle gave you to use as some sort of excuse to coax you into at least opening the door.

You lightly tapped your knuckle against the wood for a moment before you knocked once more with just a bit more force, "Excuse me, sir." You hadn't even finished your sentence before the door creaked wide open.

By the slight raise of his brow, you guessed that he too wasn't expecting to see that you were the one behind the intrusion. Your words shriveled down your throat at the towering sight of him. Now standing tall in his full glory, his height almost reached up to the top of the door if he hadn't been using the frame to slouch against, very shirtless.

You took a step back out of instinct, taking in his muscled torso, bared with scars and marks you could only imagine the battle he earned them from. In Between the distance that parted you two was another beat of silence, his as he stared down at you, his features now plastered with what you could only assume was boredom as you gaped up at him, your mouth parting like you were some type of fish as your brain struggled to form the words you wanted to come from your throat.

"Uh, sorry, just—would you mind if I….offered company?" Your voice trembled as you couldn't make the request sound more awkward, forcing the strength surging through your veins to hold you upright as his eyes shamelessly traveled down your body as if you were some sort of prey ready to get swallowed up.

"And what company would you ever have to possibly offer me?" An annoyed grimace soon followed as he spoke, making it difficult for you to even process if the question was supposed to be insulting.

"I offer an exchange. You take these pillows and let me hide out in your room—at least until you leave, so my uncle stays off both of our backs." In the offer, you lifted the pillows towards him, watching as he scanned them with the same expression of boredom as if you were offering him vegetable soup.

"I should mention that if you do not accept, my uncle will be more furious with me than you." Clarifying the stakes you were taking, the beast of a man gave your face a once-over, his expression softening to something that you could only guess was a pity as a sigh parted his lips, gesturing you inside with a careless limp wave. He had not bothered moving over, only raising his arm to let you walk under and into the room before closing the door and making his way to the bed.

You could only watch, standing close to the other corner of the room, as he slouched, sitting against the headboard almost too comfortably against the creaking wooden mattress to what you assume he continued his interrupted task of sharpening his sword.

The room, besides the moonlight that leaked onto the floor from the open curtains. Had the room been poorly lit, a light orange from the oil lamp that sat on the crate-made nightstand illuminated the man's figure and sword dangerously. The light kissed his muscles and tanned auburn features, basking in the handsome aura that he was intertwined with, reminding you of the portraits you would see strung up in royal galleries of oil-painted men ascending from the parted clouds.

Your staring had not gone unnoticed. The man's dark eyes flitted over to you, gazing upon all the scabbed, light scars that riddled up from his torso to his face as if they were tattoos. "Could you at least give me your name before undressing me so unkindly with your perverted eyes?" he offered out another vague-sounding insult, dipping his sword back into its sleeve as he reverted his attention to you. The raising of his thick brow was the demise of any offense you could have possibly reacted with. You spoke your name softly, almost as if you were in the blink of forgetfulness, falling under whatever spell came with him bearing his charming canines.

"And I, Miguel," he returned, easing back his shoulders slightly, bowing his head, and reaching his arms out for you in a small polite greeting, which you could only assume to be considered manners outside of your town. Your steps were skittish, pausing for a moment before your legs processed the placement that you stood away from had to be closed for you to shake his hand. You had practically wisped across the room with the light of your feet as your hand ghosted close to his.

He took the first step in closing the distance, reaching for your hand and pressing the back of your palm against his lips. To say that the gestures had not stirred something inside of you would be a deep lie as you caught your eyes following his mouth. Your hand flinched under his gentle hold, molding against the callus of his fingers before you had even realized it. Your fingers brushed up against the scar that stretched against the end of his brow.

Miguel yanked back in a wince as your breath hitched, his brows knitted together, and a large hand fisted around the bend of your wrist, yet his hard stare never left the same mouth your fingers had just rudely traced over. "Just what is going on in that perverted mind of yours?" His tone held a strong accent that made every word sound condescending yet more gentle than the last time he spoke, his grasp planting you just beside the bed between his legs.

You wanted to call him out on his insulting accusation. If it had been any other man on the street, you probably would've given him an earful by now, yet there was just something so alluring about Miguel that left the bend of your knees threatening to wobble as he glanced up at you with his dark, intimidating eyes. "I bet you're not even going to apologize. How rude."

Your own lips parted in hopes of a response, yet shut quickly as his hand interpreted you once more, guiding your hand by the hold on your wrist back to his face and letting your palm rest against the curve of his cheek. Your fingers dance against all the small scabs and smudges he had yet to clean from his face, almost as if he were caressing himself with your own hand. You didn't bother pulling away, letting his warmth dance under your palm at his grasp. Your thumb graced under the most prominent scar caught close to the side of his lip, tracing the mark and pausing at just the underside of his mouth.

The very inmate exchange had opened a portal of doors for your hands to explore the curious marks on his body, from dark specks of moles scattered against his brown skin as if they were constellations to the ugly scabs dug on top of his abs from wounds that healed over from his troubled past. Spread against his skin were stories and experiences, all of which you could never imagine from the bubble of your small rural village.

Miguel let your curious fingers wander on their own, the palms of his hands coaxing around your hips and guiding you into his lap. Not once did you break contact with the light gleam in his dark eyes, not even when you realized that you were practically straddling yourself over just one of his spread-tensed, muscly thighs.

There was no point in squirming away. You had no desire to lean back now, no want to back now, backing away from the control of his cosset, instead melting into the warmth that engulfed under his touch until you were supporting yourself up by the brace of your swung arm around his neck to stabilize yourself.

All senses are overcome with sheer curiosity, with your fingers tracing every ridge and mottle, following the rise and fall of his bare chest. There grew a stained festering of want, a need now revealing its restlessness growing tight within you, so much so that your initial fear was soon drowned out by the heat shifting within your core.

Miguel did just about everything, yet so little to entertain your touch, letting your eyes swallow him whole, knowing just what he was doing and pressing just the right amount of pressure into his fingertips that held around your waist.

His expression had shifted from that bored and somewhat tired look to something more heavy that you could not quite decipher in the low light. You would have been mistaken for thinking that he hadn't had any interest in the fact that you were sitting in his lap if it weren't for the faint throbbing reaction you felt pressing against your thigh.

You were all for self-respect and protecting your dignity, but you just couldn't help but yank that fucking bar down to the dirt and throw yourself at him. If anything, it was more of a freefall you took, leaning in and pressing your lips against your body to cut through the thick tension.

It was your nervousness fading at the sooth of his hands, bringing you in closer by the waist, your back arching to press closer to his chest. His kisses were as rough as you thought they would be, from everywhere his lips grazed, from your mouth to the curve of your collarbones. They left your nerves jolting at the brush of his sharp canines brushing against a sensitive spot close to your jugular.

The whiny small pleads of encouragement were all that could part from your kissed lips, his hands unknotting from the hold on your hips to slowly undoing the buttons to your nightgown, exposing more of your skin for him to assault, his hands cupping your breast through the cotton fabric, groping and suckling at your budded nipples through the fabric of your arching body with a drooling obsession.

With your eyes fluttering shut and head tilted back, drowning in pleasure, already putty under his touch, it was easy for him to lay your limp figure down against the uncomfortable hay-stuffed mattress your uncle would be too cheap to call a bed.

Hiking your thigh over his shoulder with a quick yank, his clean-shaven face smooth against your spread thighs, burying himself between your legs. The ghost of the ghost wanting to admit to it being your first time caught in your throat, cutting through the thick cloud of your worries and insecurities. The moment he brought his mouth close to your mount, his tongue was practically savage against your poor clit.

The vibration of his grunts as your nails knotted around a handful of the hair that curled around the nape of his neck, shifting your hips against the rhyme of the roll warmth of his tongue. A sigh was launched down your throat the moment his thick dark lashes fluttered open, instantly latching onto your gaze, a shiver running down your spine at the lewd scene of the man between your legs desiring your pussy with his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you found it ironic how you were practically close to screaming out Miguel's name as if it were a praying plea for your life, yet in an earlier time in your life, you would always look on in disgust at the moans that would leak through from rooms your coworkers serviced, swearing to yourself that you would never find yourself behind those same doors, yet there you were climaxing under a handsome stranger's tongue as he lapped your twitching cunt through the hard ripple of your orgasm.

His lips tasted like you.

That was the first sense that welcomed you back down from whichever cloud you were floating on. Miguel's tongue invaded your mouth, and swallowing whatever breath you tried to pant out, the struggling continued. He pressed your thighs apart enough to slot himself in between them as a tensed string itched in your lower thigh muscles, your legs trembling under his fingers.

The head of his cock was intrusive and rude, to say the least, bumping his girthy length against you, shamelessly shifting his hips, covering himself in the wetness of your legs, kissing back every whimper that came up your throat at his fat tip, threatening to breach between your lower lips without any proper hopes of a graceful welcome.

The stretch of his fat tip parting you open left a cry falling from you as Miguel grunted into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath against your sweat-clad skin. Your back arched up against his broad chest as the lewd size of his cock overtook the rest of the sense you had left within your fogged spirit, his dawning pace merciful with experimentally slow strokes deep enough to make your toes curl against the scratchy duvet bedding to a rough pistoning rhythm against your core.

Your fingers clamping tight into the straw pillow at the all too familiar tensing knot forming in your stomach, begging with each harsh thrust, you let outpaced, panting, punched-out moans, following the lead of Miguel's hips, who barreled through your tight cunt as your second orgasm rudely yanked you back to bliss. Your body trembled from exhaustion under Miguel's unsetting ramming hips. The minutes flew by as your brain struggled to do anything but cry out unfinished sentences leading with his name.

Using your noises of encouragement, Miguel chased after his own pleasures, slowly drifting into a less rhythmic pace. His hips buried themselves as he rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his size, snug enough to twitch his cum into where he lay with one last low, strung-out, stuttering groan.

With each other's hearts hammering, you and Miguel fell fatigued against one another, welcoming the slug of his weight as a comforting weighted blanket, neither bothering to curl away from the other nor making any effort to pull himself out, instead using the strength that you deemed to be infinity for him to reposition you on top.

His arm wrapping around the lower part of your torso and nuzzling his chin against you with a tired breath, more than content with spending the night in his room, knowing that your wobbling legs would betray you the moment you stood on your own, closing your eyes and slumbering against his chest in comfort.

Maybe that was why you shifted away with an aching start, the bruising mark littered across your skin a shade of a hinting purple and red, as well as the mess between your legs painted as a lone reminder of the acts you had committed last night. Miguel had apparently gone after sunrise, leaving the spot in which he lay empty with a stricken feeling in your chest and a defeated spirit after hearing your uncle congratulate you for milking enough money out of the visitor to pay off all of your debt completely.

★ @xylianasblog / @knightlythoughts4 / @tanith13 /@niyizh /@maki-z / @inspace1 / @marzipaanz / @inumakiiz / @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom / @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo / @dressycobra7 / @pondering-peach / @foxymask001 / @haitaniwhor3 / @creamyarishi / @iheartlinds

tap here to be added to taglist.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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writingsbychlo · 8 months

Note

okay but the world needs a how would the 🐍 boys react to a taylor swift concert (and if you categorized them by album i would also not be mad)

😘💋

for you, my love? anything 😌

slytherin boys + taylor swift concert/albums

draco: draco is impartial. it’s not his typical music taste but he will hum to songs when you play them, he knows you like them. he hires someone to make sure he gets really good tickets and says you can take anyone when he surprises you with them. when you say you want to take him, he fucking loves it. he doesn’t show it, but knowing you’d share something so special with him, it makes him so happy. would wear a basic fit, lets be real. would pay someone to custom make your outfit for your favourite album, though. also, he bought tickets to a tour spot of a place you’ve always wanted to visit and he makes it a whole vacation. splashes cash for extra packages. rich boy vibes. he’d never admit it to anyone but he has listened to All Too Well (10 min version) when he’s in his emo moments.

he’s giving Red, though, and would make the effort to sing along to any songs he knows enough of just to see you smile. like tell me he isn’t giving the youthful innocence of 22 but also I Knew You Were Trouble, like???

mattheo: has an alarm set for tickets and tries to get them so eagerly with you. again, not his usual music taste, but his has been known to scream-sing Shake It Off when drunk. would wear a toned down outfit to match whatever you’re wearing and would absolutely wear any bracelets you make him. holds all your belongings so you don’t have to worry about anything. holds your hand the whole time and sings with you. you’d stay in a fancy hotel overnight the day before and after, he wanted to make it special. buys matching tour hoodies with you.

he’s giving Fearless, like lets be real, The Way I Loved You was written for him. he isn’t ashamed to admit he loves that album, though. that dedication of slightly toxic but mostly just obsessed love, sweet and adorable first love feelings, y’know?

theo: asked if you’d seen there was a tour coming up and chuckled at your excitement when you screamed yes. gets tickets when you don’t manage to and makes a joke like ‘how many boyfriend points did this just earn me?’ spoiler: it’s a lot. wears all your bracelets that you make on one arm and helps you make trades with people. researches the set list to make sure he knows all the lyrics to any possible songs that might play so he can sing with you, but already knows quite a lot. not ashamed to listen to her if he’s with you or missing you. buys you any merch you want, has so many bags to be taken home.

his album is Folklore, just because I think the hazy indie suit him. august is friends-to-lovers with him after spending the summer with his family in italy. change my mind, you can’t.

enzo: baby boy goes all out for this. he’s so lover coded, but he knows all the albums very well. listens to her music with or without you and is proud of it. you sat together to book tickets and try to double your chances and it worked. not only wears and trades bracelets but makes them with you, makes his own set to swap with people too. looks for celebrities and gets to excited when he spots them. he’s the kinda guy to propose during Love Story. matching outfits, matching merch. you guys both have lost your voices the next day and he can’t stop grinning about it. is convinced taylor made eye contact with him. would wear a custom outfit with you, too.

his album is Lover. no doubt. he’s a cutie pie and he’s so pastel-sunshine-sparkles-love. Paper Rings? he belts that. You Need To Calm Down? he bodies it with so much sass just to see you giggle. London Boy? I don’t even need to say.

tom: hears you didn’t get tickets and starts pulling strings to get them for you because you were sad. tries to be casual and just leave them on your desk one day, but can’t help his smile when you burst into his dorm at 11pm and kiss him stupid for it. is willing to let you pick his outfit as long as you make it ‘normal’. you guys match but in a subtle way. like mattheo, books a hotel for before and after, and also will hold your things. doesn’t sing along but he’s not a buzzkill, y’know? stands with his arms wrapped around your waist the whole time, sways slightly to the music for you. he will spin you occasionally. so defensive when you’re looking at merch, growls at someone to fuck off while they still have teeth for telling you to hurry up and pick. gets a hoodie when you tell him it would look good on him and actually wears it for you. also buys the special packages like sound checks etc.

Reputation. you’re gonna look me in my eyes and tell me Look What You Made Me Do isn’t his anthem? if he had a gun to his head he would name that as his favourite song.

bonus for you bc we’re talking abt him right now: all I’m gonna say is reggie + enchanted. that’s it, that’s all.

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy x reader #tom riddle/reader #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #lorenzo berkshire/reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader

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vinvantae · 1 year

Text

Unmasked

Part 3/16

<<< previous part

Includes some bad French and Italian - English translations at the end

Word count - 2.7k

You looked out the window as the helicopter flew over to Monaco, the sky was grey and the city seemed unusually quiet. Your father had bought you your apartment as a present for your championship win - buying gifts was his way of showing his love, that he was proud. Because he didn’t know any other way to. The NDA about your job had caused some tension in your family but you were never close enough with them to be that bothered by it. Now, more than ever, you could afford to pay for your own lifestyle.

Usually during break you’d disappear back to your home-base, hide away from the world for a while and be ‘normal’. Well, as normal as the youngest 2 time faceless WDC could be.

But what you were about to do was anything but normal. As you touched down on the helipad, you could see Charles lent against his car in the distance - a soft smile tugged at your lips when you saw the bouquet he was holding. Damn, he was good at this fake dating thing. You crossed the tarmac after stepping off of the helicopter, heart fluttering a little when Charles’ face lit up at the sight of you. Gosh, he’s pretty.

“Those for me? You shouldn’t have.” You smiled softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. His free hand found a spot on your waist, kissing each of your cheeks.

He chuckled, passing them to you. “Can’t meet my girl without flowers now, can I? What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

You gave him a hug, relaxing into his hold as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head - the PDA should have felt weird, but it felt scarily comfortable. The driver stepped away to open the passenger door for you, hand on the small of your back as you climbed in. Charles took a glance around and saw an older gentleman watching you both, almost as if he was trying to place you both. He simply gave him a nod and slid into the driver's seat.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke up, his eyes on the road. “Please let me know if I cross a line with the PDA stuff.”

“I will, but I can’t see that happening.” You smiled sweetly, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. “I feel so comfortable around you, Charles.”

“So…” He smiled at some people as they crossed the road in front of you. “If I needed to kiss you..?”

Your cheeks flushed that same soft pink that he loved so much. “Got to make it believable, right?”

The two of you looked away from each other simultaneously, you hid your smile behind your hand as you looked out the car. You raised a brow as Charles drove past your street and kept driving.

“Uhm? You missed my flat.”

“Thought we could have a cute homemade pasta date… you know, for instagram.”

You giggled softly, the sound making Charles’ heart flutter. He knew it was part of the contract, but he couldn’t believe that you were really here with him right now.

“Oh yeah, for instagram.” You teased, taking in the sights as you continued your drive through the city - you pulled your sunglasses over your face, mostly to protect your eyes from the sun threatening to escape from behind the clouds but you were still trying to keep your identity a little mysterious. Leave people guessing who was in Charles’ car for a moment longer.

Charles pulled into the parking lot for his apartment, resting one hand behind your headrest as he reversed into his spot. “Let’s get you fed.”

“When did you have time to go pasta ingredient shopping anyway?” You asked, taking his hand as he helped you out of the car. “And hey, no one can see us, you don’t have to be all couple-y with me when we’re alone if you don’t want to.”

“I’ve been here a couple hours.” He hummed, draping an arm across your shoulder as you smelled the bouquet. “And I know, but you’re still my friend. Gonna treat you right, regardless.”

You lent into his hold, letting him lead you into the elevator. “Thank you… sorry, I’m just not used to hanging out with people.”

“Well that’s gonna change from here on out. You’re gonna be so fed up with me by the end of the break.” His grin was playful. “Here’s me.”

He swiped his keycard and held the door open for you, letting you step inside. You were greeted by what you’d definitely call a bachelor pad - it was somewhere he didn’t spend a lot of time because of the race schedule so it was well kept. He helped you remove your coat and hug it up on the peg.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks, it does the job. Place to sleep, place to eat.” He shrugged, kicking off his shoes. “I’ve never really settled in though.”

You hummed. “Maybe a homemade pasta dinner will make it feel a little different?”

His lips curled up into a smile. “I hope so. It’s nice to have you here. Been a long time coming really… I-I mean like… we’ve been friends for so long it’s almost weird that-“

“Charles, chill, I get it.” You teased, nudging your hip against his before heading into the kitchen. “Ooh spacious.”

The Monaco native moved around you as he pulled ingredients from the cupboard. There was a lull in conversation as you weighed things out but the quiet was comfortable, you didn't even notice snap a photo of you making a meal of mixing the dough before he gently nudged you aside and started kneading the dough.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and sent a quick message to the PR manager.

YN - can I post some subtle photos of Charles on my insta story? We’re making pasta

PR - Sounds perfect. Send them via me before you post pls :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yourinstagram added to their story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you sat around the table, enjoying your pasta with some comfortable chatter as you split a bottle of wine. You smiled softly as Charles relayed back some memories of before he knew you were Thirty.

“It was your first win of the season in 2018. You had climbed on top of your car and were waving around the Ferrari flag… you were so cool. I really wanted to be your teammate some day, I was worried you were going to retire before I got a chance.” He chuckled softly. “Little did I know, you were just a kid like me.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” You smiled softly, twirling your pasta around the fork. “You know… you’ve never really told me how you actually felt about me being y’know… me.”

The driver paused for a moment, taking a sip of his wine as he thought back. He had a nostalgic, almost wistful smile on his face. “Honestly? At first I couldn’t really believe it. Not only were you a girl but like… young. I was actually so shocked.”

His eyes flickered over you as you dipped your wine before he continued speaking. “But mostly? I was so impressed. To have achieved so much you were an amazing talent and I thought it was a shame that they kept you hidden away. So many little girls could use an idol like you, y/n. Having you as my teammate has inspired me, so I can’t even fathom what it would mean to them.”

“Charles.” You said, placing a hand over your heart. “You’re going to make me cry, thank you… I’m grateful I met you. You’re such a good friend, and I’m glad - perhaps besides the circumstances - that we get to hang out more.”

The driver cheersed his glass against yours, not missing the way you’d called him a friend. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t real, as much as he wished it was. Whilst he could hold your hand and kiss you in public, behind closed doors you were simply friends. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable - he knew how frustrating it was for girls when a male friend you thought you could trust made a move. If anything were ever to happen, he wanted it to come from you.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’ll get you home in a bit, I imagine you’ve got quite a bit to unpack?”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me. I did have the flat cleaned before I showed up but I need to order groceries… Do we have anything tomorrow?”

Charles fished his phone out of his pocket and opened up the itinerary your PR manager had sent you over, eyes flickering across the screen. “I think they’re giving us a day to settle in.”

“Perfect. Because I’m shattered.” You stretched your arms above your head, a soft yawn escaping you. “But, you’re more than welcome to join me at my place if you find yourself with nothing to do.”

“Might be your only day free of me, love. I think you’ll get bored of me.” His voice had a teasing lilt but you could tell he meant it as his eyes didn’t meet yours as he started clearing the table. “I really enjoyed this though.”

With a nod you stood up, taking your empty wine glasses through to the kitchen - Charles close behind. “I enjoyed it too. Can I maybe help more next time?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “If you promise not to ruin my pasta noodles again… needs a gentle touch.”

“Didn’t know you were so passionate about pasta, Charles.” You laughed.

“I am not, you’re just clumsy.” The smile on his face was fond. “Pass those here. I need to rinse before I put it in the dishwasher.”

“I was expecting you to be more of a slob.”

He gasped. “Rude.”

You returned his previous eye roll and passed him the glasses, stepping away to lean against the counter as he popped the dishes in the dishwasher. It still felt so crazy that you were allowed to hang out with him now, this time two days ago the most he could do was hide away with you in your driver’s room and now you were in his home. It should’ve felt weirder than it did, but you were glad how easy this was.

“I don’t know if you remember, way before you moved to GP3, when we were like… 7 or 8 maybe? That wet race in Belgium.” He turned to face you, standing opposite you now - you were mirroring each other's stance. “Where you drove through that puddle and absolutely drowned me.”

A fond laugh escaped you. “Absolutely I do. And do you remember why I did that?”

“…No.” He lied, feigning confusion. “I have no memory of that.”

You crossed the kitchen until you stood almost directly in front of him, his eyes bore into yours and your confidence wavered for a moment. He raised a brow, the corner of his lip tugging up into a challenging smirk. “Are you going to remind me or are you just gonna stare?”

“You yanked on my hair, said that girls had cooties and I shouldn’t be allowed to race with you.” You narrowed your eyes, prodding him directly in the centre of the chest. “So I think 7 year old you fully deserved to be splashed.”

“Well, 7 year old me was very stupid.” The Monegasque hummed. “I should’ve considered myself lucky being able to drive alongside a future world champion.”

“Too right.”

His eyes flickered across your face, you could almost see the memories replaying in the bright blues as he studied you. “You know what they say about when little boys tug on little girls’ hair though, right?”

Your heart skipped a beat but before his words could really sink in, his phone rang from the counter behind him. He kept his eyes trained on your face as he reached to take it - lifting it to his ear without seeing who was calling.

“Pronto?*1” He paused. “Ah Pierre! Ça va… oui… je suis avec un ami… Oui, Pierre, elle est une fille*2.”

You held in a giggle as he rolled his eyes at his friend’s insistence of being aware of every girl that ever roamed the planet. Charles held a finger to his lips, fighting back a smile himself as Pierre continued to ramble at him down the phone.

“Bon, à demain*3.” He hung up the phone. “So, you know how we had no plans tomorrow?”

“What on earth have you signed us up for?”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Pierre is coming over to Monaco tomorrow, wants to go out. Would be a good opportunity for you to meet some of my friends, no?”

“Fine.” You groaned, letting your forehead fall against his chest. “Just Pierre?”

“…Max and Daniel as well.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” He chuckled, his laughter vibrated through you as he wrapped an arm around you - pulling you into him for a hug. “You’ll have a good time. They’re good guys, I promise. And because you’re my ‘girlfriend’ Pierre should behave himself.”

“I’m not sure if I should be excited or nervous.”

“It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll order you a ride home, I’d drive but we polished off that wine.” Charles released you from his hug, smiling down at you. “I’ll swing round yours before we meet the boys tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Works for me. Just give me a rough time so I can get ready.”

After saying your goodbyes at the door, you climbed into the car and made your way back to your own flat - it was dark now, the dull grey of the sky had changed to a deep blue but the world around you remained illuminated by the bright buildings of Monaco. Your place was only 10 minutes from his, so you were home fairly quickly - making sure to tip the driver.

When you stepped into your apartment you noticed a large bouquet of flowers with an envelope tucked inside of them but you didn’t even stop to read it. Knowing it was from your father, once again too busy to make time to see you during your break from racing, instead just throwing money your way. You were grateful that his lifestyle had meant you were able to get into racing at a young age but you had paved your own way, able to fend for yourself.

Your Monaco flat wasn’t as lived in as your place back home but you had made it homely. Blankets and pictures dotted around, the soft smell of whatever candle the cleaner had used to cover the smell of cleaning solution. It wasn’t your intention to be here during the winter break but you knew it was easier for your contract with Charles.

But one thing you knew here was an old photo album from back when you were a kid. You fished through a draw and pulled it out, flipping through the pages until you found the photo of you, Charles and Max on the podium in that race in Belgium - the future Ferrari driver soaked from head to toe. You brushed your thumb over the photo before sending a picture of it to Charles.

YN - Looking a little damp here, Charles

CL - Can’t believe you still have a photo! Nice helmet hair 😘

You chuckled at his response before ticking the album back away, letting your mind wander to tomorrow. Meeting Daniel properly for the first time. Seeing Max and Pierre for the first time since you karted with them as a kid. Would they like you? Would any of them even suspect who you are? Would the younger two even remember you?

But more than anything you were just excited to get to know the people you’d worked with for so many years. You had existed in the same world for years but had never shared more than a congratulatory handshake or pat on the back. But now you were going to look them in the eyes, they were going to hear your voice.

It was just a shame they wouldn’t know who you were, they’d just think you were Charles’ new girlfriend. You just hoped that the day they learned the truth would be sooner rather than later, because until then, they would never really know the real you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*****************************************

Next part>>>

*1 ‘Ready’ - how Italians often answer the phone

*2 ‘How are you… yes… I’m with a friend… yes, Pierre, she’s a girl’

*3 ‘Good, see you tomorrow’

Hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️ thank you all for your continued support x

Mixed media won the poll so I hope you enjoyed this new layout! I may still post some edits separately but mostly they’ll be integrated into chapters like this

#Unmasked fic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 #formula one #x reader #Charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #leclerc x reader

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tarotwithlove · 7 months

Text

pick a card ⋆ what do you bring to the table?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards ⋆ two of wands (reversed), five of cups, six of cups, four of wands, two of pentacles (reversed). spellcasting oracle · beauty, lighten your load, strength.

songs ⋆ all the man that i need by whitney houston. weak by thando. the kids don��t wanna go home by declan mckenna.

hey there group one ♡ you may not be financially well off, especially when compared to the people by whom you are surrounded; or when compared to the people you date or with whom you enter relationships.

the people around you may often have to shoulder your expenses and financial needs as their own - parents paying your rent or friends paying for your meals when you go out, for example. this may make you feel self conscious, and may keep you from dating, spending time with loved ones, or going out with friends and family.

you may feel that you bring nothing to the table, but that is not true. you are a beautiful ray of light, and the people who want to spend time with you want to do so because of who you are and what you can do - not because of what you have.

you are a shoulder for people to cry on. you are pillar of strength. you are sunbeam that makes people feel better about their own pain, suffering, and challenges. people don’t mind going above and beyond for you, or covering for you financially, because you make up for it by being present and carrying your weight in other ways.

if someone were to make you feel less for your current financial status, that is a person who shouldn’t be in your life. the people who deserve to be in your life know and recognise that what you bring to the table is more than money can buy. they know, too, that once your financial situation turns around you will be as generous with your money as they were with theirs.

GROUP TWO

cards ⋆ six of swords, nine of wands, ten of wands, queen of cups, the moon. spellcasting oracle · home, dreams, happiness.

songs ⋆ needy by chanmina. long flight by taeyong. solo by frank ocean.

hey there group two ♡ what you bring to the table is your intellectual ability. you are an intelligent, well-read person, and what you bring to the table is both your intellect and your level-headed nature. people feel as if they can rely on you, especially when it comes down to making difficult decisions; they feel as if they can ask you for advice on anything and trust you to give objective input that will help them make the best possible decision.

this holds true even in small instances, and you may find that people ask you to make day-to-day decisions for them too - such as, what should they eat, what should they buy, what should they spend their day doing.

when people are in your company, they feel as if they can completely turn their brain off and put all their trust in you. they know that they can rely on you - for some, this is with regard to their financial future, especially if you have a career in financial planning, financial advising, or accounting, or if you are someone with a lot of investment or financial knowledge.

even if not, for all of you, people know that they can confide in you without judgement and put their lives in your hand without any fear.

GROUP THREE

cards ⋆ the world (reversed), nine of cups, the tower, eight of pentacles, seven of cups, the hermit (reversed). spellcasting oracle · protection, new beginnings, beauty.

songs ⋆ matches by britney spears & backstreet boys. crush by yuna & usher. instagram by dean.

hey there group three ♡ you may be on a journey of self-discovery or personal transformation. and while you may have started this not trying to be an inspiration to anyone that is what you have, eventually become.

what you bring to the table is your own passion that you rub off on the people around you. your passion for self-improvement and for life. this, and your beauty that makes people want to improve themselves physically to be “worthy” of being in your presence, or getting even a little bit of your attention.

you push people to change and make better choices. by seeing how you carry yourself and the standards to which you hold yourself, you make the people around you want to follow your lead. people feel as if by just being in your presence, they can start to live better lives. if only to start seeing their lives in a better light and want to start improving for not only themselves, but for you.

you make people want to do hard things to not only make you proud but to make themselves proud.

what you bring to the table is your purpose as a sort of trigger. you trigger people through your actions and behaviours and push them to live their lives to the fullest. you make people care about their health and physical appearance, because of how much you care about your health and physical appearance.

even while you don’t mean to do this, you push the people who meet you and who are around you to push themselves physcially and mentally - whether by exercising and working out regularly, eating a specific way, or doing the hard work of going after their dreams.

GROUP FOUR

cards ⋆ ace of cups, four of swords, eight of pentacles, eight of cups (reversed), seven of wands, three of wands. spellcasting oracle · healing, travel, transformation.

songs ⋆ my journey by brown eyed soul. up by cardi b. on my mama by victoria monet.

hey there group four ♡ what you bring to the table is first and foremost your confidence!

you may have had a difficult upbringing and faced many other challenges in your life, often feeling like an outsider or like you have to work twice as hard to be accepted or to even just be acknowledged. this may be because of your race or gender, or because of your role in the home as a middle child or stepchild.

whatever your circumstances, they have time and time again pushed you to go above and beyond. but you have overcome and, in overcoming, you have become a confident and self-assured person.

however, you have remained humble and down-to-earth, thus making other people feel drawn to you and comfortable in your presence instead of intimidated and put off.

your confidence in yourself, the way that you speak and carry yourself… these are things that will get your foot in the door and that make people want to put their faith in your. people see you as incredibly successful. and if you are not currently successful, people see as you someone who will one day eventually be. thus, they want to keep you in their corner and want to make sure you are aware you can rely on them in any situation.

#**#tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #tarotonline #tarotcommunity #tarotcreator #tarotblr #channelled message #channeled message

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kueble · 4 months

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I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You

Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.

Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.

Ghost/Soap

---

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..

“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.

“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.

“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.

“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.

“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.

Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.

If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.

“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.

“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.

“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.

“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.

“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.

“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.

“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.

“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.

“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.

—

The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.

“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.

“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”

“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.

“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”

“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.

Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.

It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.

“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.

“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.

—

He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.

To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.

Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.

“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.

“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.

“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.

He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.

When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.

“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.

“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.

“Never even met me.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.

“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.

“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.

“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.

—

There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.

They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.

“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.

“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.

“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.

But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.

“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.

“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”

“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.

“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”

“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”

He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.

“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”

Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”

He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.

“The men involved?” he asks quietly.

“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.

“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.

“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.

“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.

“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”

He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.

If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.

He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.

The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”

—

Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.

He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.

They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.

After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.

“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.

“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.

“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.

“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”

“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.

“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.

“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.

“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.

“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.

“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.

But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.

“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.

“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.

“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.

“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.

“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.

“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.

“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.

And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”

“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.

“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.

“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.

“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.

“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.

And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.

Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.

“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.

And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #my fic

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 8 months

Text

There's Beauty in Tragedy

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: home invasion, robbers, being tied up and gagged but not injured, mostly fluff

Summary: You own a multi-billion dollar company, and that means you're a target for a specific group of people who robs very rich. The whole experience is very scary but you meet the woman of your dreams because of it, so you can't be too mad at the situation.

Square Filled: crime scene (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This big mansion is all to yourself. A dozen bedrooms and bathrooms, a big movie theater, a gorgeous indoor pool, a luxurious spa next to it, and that’s barely scratching the surface. Why do you need all this? Well, you don’t. You’re more than happy with living in a two-bedroom house that you can craft to your liking instead of a big place like this.

You make so much money that you had no other choice but to put it toward your dream house. Your heels click on the clean tiled floor as you walk into your sleek office where you know a hoard of emails are waiting for your response. For someone who is the CEO of the best jewelry company this country has ever seen, you have a shit ton of work you need to do.

Your passion in life is to make jewelry for people to feel beautiful in. It all started in the basement of your parent’s house like every other great company has. The first people you ever made jewelry for were your parents with jewels you found while camping one summer. They were so impressed that they told their immediate family who were interested in you doing this for them.

They told their friends who told their kids who told their friends and soon, everyone in town was lining at your door for your jewelry. That’s when you started taking commissions only for people who are willing to pay which is how you were able to buy your first car with your own money. Yes, you got a job when you turned seventeen so you can get experience under your belt even though you could live off what you were making on your jewelry sales.

Once the business got big enough to work out of your parent’s basement, you used your money to buy a small space in the local mall where you could extend your services to more people. You hired a few of your friends to help you with the business for a few years, and the company was only getting bigger.

It got to the point where you bought yourself your own building, and hired a call center team, IT services, mailroom workers, and a whole fleet of teams who could do the work you were doing back in high school. You named yourself the CEO of Shining Star Jewelry and retired at an early age.

You’re doing pretty well for yourself and you don’t like to hide it. You sit down at your desk and work on answering emails for a couple of hours. Afterward, you’ll make yourself some dinner and take a hot bath while watching your favorite TV show. The first hour goes by quicker than you thought it would, and you look at the time with a yawn. Maybe you can get away with cutting it an hour early.

You’re about to log out of your account when your security cameras pick up something in your backyard. Two men are in your backyard with a big black duffel bag slung over their shoulders with the intention of breaking in and stealing shit. They smash the back door and walk inside your home.

You’re not sure what to do in this situation. Do you hide? Do you run? Do you call someone? Your security alarm is set up to send a silent alarm to the local police if you don’t turn it off, so the police are coming either way. The only problem is, you’re not sure how long it will take them to get here.

Your fight or flight response kicks in and you choose to run in hopes they don’t find you. However, luck isn’t on your side because as soon as you step foot out of your office, both men stand in your way.

“Lookie lookie what we got here,” one of the men says.

They’re both wearing skull bandanas that they have tied over their face so that the only thing showing is their eyes.

“Take anything you want. Please don’t hurt me,” you beg.

“Tie her up,” one of them says.

The bigger man grabs your arm harshly and yanks you into your office. He takes out some rope, duct tape, and zip ties that will be used to subdue you. You have no clue if you’re going to lose your life, get raped, get injured, or whatever they have planned. Instead of fleeing like your body is telling you to do, you allow the man to do whatever he wants to do to you in hopes that he doesn’t hurt or kill you. He ties your ankles together with zip ties, your wrists are tied with rope very tightly, the zip ties your ankles to your wrists so you can’t use your hands, and duct tape is wrapped around your eyes and mouth so you’re forced to breathe through your nose.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go. A place as nice as this must have good security alarms. The police will be here any minute.”

Both men leave you alone in your office to wonder what they’re taking and where they are. You have a lot of nice expensive shit everywhere that they can make a lot of money off of, but there is so much of it that they can’t possibly take it all before the police come.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, you hear police sirens outside your house. You’re not sure if the two men are gone, and if they are, you hope your cameras caught which way they went. Two officers knock on your front door to check if you’re alright. You try screaming as loud as you can but the duct tape is preventing you from making a lot of noise.

“Check around back,” one of the officers say.

Both of them split up to see if there is any disturbances only to meet at the back door which is shattered with glass all over the ground.

“NYPD! We’re coming inside!”

Both of them train their guns in front of them as they walk inside. They stick together and sweep each room one by one until they get to your office. They walk in and aim their guns at you thinking you’re one of the intruders.

“Shit,” the first officer curses and holsters his gun. He kneels next to you and takes the duct tape off first. “You’re okay, Miss. We’re here to help.”

“I couldn’t fight back,” you cry. “I am so scared.”

“I understand. Robles, help me with the zip ties.”

Both officers remove you from your ties. They didn’t kill you. Why? Paramedics come so they can check you out while more officers come to gather intel on what items the burglars stole, where they went, and who they could be. After the paramedics clear you, a female officer sits down with you in your living room.

“I know you must be scared out of your mind, but do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“No.”

“Okay. Do you remember what the intruders looked like?”

“They had masks covering their face. I could only see their eyes. They were wearing skull bandanas around their faces. One was really big. He’s the one who shoved me into my office. The other one was really skinny. I probably weigh more than him,” you scoff. A look of realization comes over the officer’s face. “What?”

“Excuse me.”

She gets up and walks over to another officer. She whispers to him but the sound carries over to you so you’re able to hear her.

“Call the FBI. They’ve struck again.”

You’re not sure what’s going on or why the FBI needs to come here for two people stealing shit but you have no choice but to wait for them to arrive. They’re coming from Quantico, Virginia which is only an hour by plane. Three agents go to your house while the rest are set up in the NYPD station.

“Agents, thank you for coming.” You look to the left and see the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. Blonde hair, slim, and from what you can tell blue eyes. “I’m Detective Faulkner.”

“I’m Agent Hotchner. These are Agents Jareau and Morgan.”

“You told me over the phone that this matches the other crime scenes?”

“Yes. My men found Miss Y/N in her office with duct tape over her mouth and eyes with rope and zip ties. The intruders wore skull bandanas. I read through the files that they’ve been hitting houses up and down the coastline, right?”

Two men have been hitting rich houses and stealing billions of dollars worth of things. They don’t kill their victims, but it’s suspected that they sell the items and use the money for their trafficking business.

“Yes.” JJ’s eyes look over at you and you look away to prevent her from seeing your blush. “Is this her?”

“Yes. She’s pretty shaken up.”

“I got it,” JJ says to her team and walks to you alone. “May I sit?”

“Please.”

“My name is Jennifer Jareau. I’m with the FBI.”

You’re still scared and traumatized at what happened to you, but you’re not going to let her know. She is too gorgeous to worry about you crying. Her eyes are bluer up close and her cheeks are rosy which comes from a natural tint rather than makeup blush.

“Jennifer? That’s a beautiful name. It’s suiting,” you flirt.

“Thank you,” she blushes deeper. “Can you walk me through what happened?”

You tell her exactly what you told the female officer earlier.

“After they tied me up, all I kept thinking was this is it. This is when I’m gonna die. I haven’t had time to look through my things but I had some pretty valuable items, most of which can be replaced. Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That these men have been doing this to a lot of other people?”

“Yes. They only hit victims who have millions to billions of dollars to their name, and they just so happen to strike in the richest city in America.”

“Yeah, I try to have the best security defenses but sometimes that doesn't even stop people.”

“We’re going to work hard in catching these guys and returning your items back to you,” she promises.

“Well, I appreciate that.” She moves her long hair out of the way to reveal she has a sparking diamond necklace on. That twinkle can only be found in one place, and you smile flirtatiously. “That necklace is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I got it for my birthday last year.”

“I knew I recognized it. I designed it. It makes your eyes sparkle.”

“You have good taste, then,” she blushes.

“Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful woman.”

JJ can’t help but smile at your compliment. She has to admit, she was taken aback by your beauty when she first saw you. You’re a victim on a case she’s working so she can’t pursue you but after the case… you never know.

JJ and her team work tirelessly to capture the two unsubs before they move on to the next state. They’ve been hitting one or two big houses in each city, only choosing two cities in each state, and they’re moving across state lines which is why the FBI is involved. They normally deal with serial killers and psychopaths, never really touching on serial burglars. You’re the first person in this city to have been hit, so they’re going to hit one more person before moving to the next big city in New York.

After the police left, you tried to go back to your everyday life without possession of your things, but you tried. The press got hold of the story pretty quickly so your PR team is working endlessly to try and get behind the story before your name is dragged through the mud. You’re on your way out the door when you get a call from an unknown number.

“This is Y/N,” you answer.

“Hi, it’s Jennifer from the FBI.”

“Oh, to what do I owe the pleasure?” you smile.

“Do you mind coming down to the station right now? It’s about the robbery.”

You don’t have to look at the time to know you always have time for her.

“Of course. I’m on my way.” You drive straight to the police station which is only a ten-minute drive. You walk inside and greet one of the officers. “I’m here to see Agent Jareau.”

“Y/N, I’m glad you could make it,” JJ smiles.

“I wasn’t busy. What did you need me for?”

“We realize the burglars are going to be hitting another house soon, and we need your help locating some people.”

“Do I get to work with you?”

“If you’d like.”

“No offense to the others, but they’re not as pretty as you are,” you wink. JJ blushes once again at your compliment and leads you to an empty conference room. “So, when you mean ‘some people’ do you mean ‘rich people’? As in, do I keep in touch with any other rich folk in the city?”

“Yeah,” she says sheepishly.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I actually like to keep a record of all of my competitors in the area including who has enough money to overthrow my company.”

“I don’t think that can happen. Your jewelry is one-of-a-kind.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jennifer, but there are a lot of people who seem to think they can outshine me.”

“Right. Who’s on your list?”

“This list is gonna cost you. Would it be too much if I asked you to go grab coffee with me? You know, like a date?” JJ’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to search for an answer. Her pale skin darkens deliciously, making you think if the rest of her skin is the same way. “I’m sorry but you’re gorgeous. When I see something I like, I grab it before someone else does.”

“Look, I’m flattered you asked me on a date, but I don’t think it would be very professional since I am working on your case. It would raise suspicions to my boss, and I don’t want to ruin anything for anyone.”

“Completely understandable. What about after?”

“We’ll talk then,” she smiles.

You give her the list of every known millionaire and billionaire in the area that you have numbers for. If someone has money, you make it your business to know who they are. The list is handed to their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, to see if she can narrow down the very long list. The list you have in New York City alone is over seven hundred residents who are targets for this duo-team.

With Penelope’s help, that number is drastically decreased to less than fifty using the parameters they are searching for. The FBI and NYPD work on calling every person on that short list to make sure they know what’s going on and how they’re a potential target. All of them answer but one, and that’s the one that the FBI is going after thinking the two unsubs are going there.

From what you gathered, they were in the middle of a heist with bags of jewels, cash, and other expensive items when the FBI and NYPD showed up. They’re not killers but they don’t like to be cornered. If they really do work for a trafficking ring, being caught is worse than being dead, so they decided to shoot their way out.

One of them died and the other was apprehended and arrested.

They haven’t had time to sell any of the possessions they stole while in New York, so all of your items were returned back to you. Your PR team used this to your advantage to make this seem like a happy ending for you in the eyes of society. If the public can sympathize with you, then you won’t face backlash for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with.

It isn’t fair but that’s the way the world is.

JJ escorted you back home when you told her you didn’t feel safe going back there alone. She took this as an opportunity to be alone with you knowing it’s why you asked her to take you home in the first place.

“I appreciate you taking me home,” you say when she walks you up the stairs to your front door.

“I didn’t want you to feel unsafe.”

“I want you to know I will be working with my team to increase security here so we don’t have this issue again. Though, it’s such a shame to see you go. I thought we were having fun.”

“We were,” she smiles.

“Here, take this.” You reach into your purse and grab one of your business cards and a pen. You scribble your personal phone number on it since your cards only have your business phone number. “I can work remotely anywhere in the world or not at all. It’d be a real tragedy if I never got to see you again. I hear Virginia is nice this time of year. I’d love to take you out.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“Call me.” You open your front door and step inside. “Or if you have some time right now, would you like to come in for some coffee?”

She looks at her watch and shrugs.

“I got some time,” she smiles and steps inside.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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messedupfan · 30 days

Text

The Hope of a Free World: The Prologue

Summary: It's the last night of the Victory Tour for Katniss and Peeta and you are expected to attend the social event of the year at President Snow's mansion.

A/n: Hello! Sorry that this has taken so long to get out! I had so many ideas when it came to this request. The other two parts aren't quite ready but I hope that y'all enjoy this start!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are threading your coin through your fingers and sigh. Things in the districts were beginning to get restless as rumors of an uprising began to spread. Ever since two teenagers from Twelve defied the Capitol and refused to play by the rules of their game. In the name of love, they claimed. It didn’t matter to those in the districts. You found it to be a bold move by the star-crossed lovers of District 12. But anyone paying attention can see that the girl was acting out of survival instincts and defiance. Not out of pure love for the boy she seemed to hardly know.

“The train to the Capitol will be here soon,” Finnick says as he knocks your feet off of his coffee table as he adjusts his cufflinks. “You need to get ready and preferably stop crashing on my sofa. You have your own house, remember?” He stops at an extravagant mirror that hangs on the wall to adjust his collar.

You sigh again, “I made a promise to stop drinking excessively. I can’t do that and be alone over there. Besides if I recall, Annie said I can crash here as often as I please.”

“Wanda is lucky she only has to deal with you a couple of times a year,” he gripes as he double checks his appearance. “Get dressed, now,” he shook his head because you were still sitting on the couch, moving your coin through your fingers. It was your token in the Hunger Games. This was a coin that your father made you when you were a kid. It was a silver medallion meant to be worn on a chain. But you haven’t worn it in years because you rather fiddle with it whenever you are nervous. On the face of the medallion is a trident rising out of thin silver waves. A blue abalone shell provides a naturally patterned ocean blue background. Your father was very skilled with making jewelry. You were excited to return home from your Games to share your wealth with him and buy him all of the material he could only dream of. But, because of your minor rebellious actions in the Games, he was taken from you. By President Snow.

Not the man himself, of course, but he gave the order.

“Okay, okay,” you grumble as you stand up from the couch. “You know, I think Annie lets me stay over because I’m the closest thing to a child the two of you will ever have.”

Finnick shakes his head with a laugh, “You might be right.” Even though you weren’t much younger than Finnick and Annie, they took you under their wing. They knew exactly what you were going through when you lost your father. Finnick knew better than anyone when you turned eighteen and Snow first arranged for you to meet with a customer. The mistake you had made was keeping in touch with your friends and falling for someone. Snow threatened their lives and their families lives if you refused to show the customer a good time. None of them deserved to die for your mistakes. Or worse, be turned into Avoxes. The tongueless slaves to the Capitol.

In no time at all, you are on the train to the Capitol. For the past couple of years, you were typically giddy about getting a trip to the Capitol. It meant that you could visit with Wanda. But with talks about an uprising, you wanted to focus on that more than anything. A successful uprising could mean freedom from the segregation of the districts and the oppression of President Snow. Freedom from the Games. Most importantly, it could mean the freedom to love. You never saw yourself falling as hard as you have for someone from the Capitol but Wanda has a certain way about her. Beyond the enchanting green eyes and the vibrant red wig, which she wore to blend in with the Capitol culture. She was a person. She had opinions and interesting ideas. She hated the Games as much as anyone in the districts does.

“Keep your focus, you’ll be able to see your girl tonight,” Finnick whispered into your ear as the train came to a stop. You roll your shoulders and smooth out your clothing as you stand in front of the exit of the train. Katniss and Peeta had been in District 4 only a few days ago for their Victory Tour and tonight was the final night of their tour. It was going to end with a massive party in President Snow’s mansion and every victor that could be sold was expected to be in attendance. Especially since this year’s victors could not be auctioned off as they have been in the past.

As you are escorted to a vehicle there are screens everywhere airing footage of Peeta on one knee in front of Katniss. You shook your head. They were smart to get engaged so publicly. You predict that lot of your clients will be so bummed that they can’t have a night with either of them. It could hurt the government and raise a lot of questions if it ever came out that Katniss or Peeta were ever spotted spending time with someone else. Though, you are certain that there are plenty of people that will still try to spend a night with either of them or even both of them once they have turned eighteen. You just hope that the government is overthrown before that can happen. Thankfully, on this trip, you’re not expected to see anyone until the event. So you don’t have to worry about hearing creepy rich guys complain about how they can’t be the ones to deflower the girl on fire. You know exactly where you’ll be spending your night.

“I think I know who I’m bidding on,” Wanda whispered in your ear from behind you. Her warm breath tickled your skin and warmed your heart as you closed your eyes to bask in the feeling for a moment.

“Now, now, Ms. Maximoff,” you say as you step back and turn around to get a look at her. Most women in the Capitol opted for frilly dresses, something to accentuate their womanly curves, or hide the lack of them under layers and layers of thick fabric with outlandish designs. Wanda, however, succeeded in showing off her attributes in a simple yet stylish red and black suit with a black turtle neck. The black on her suit sat on the notch lapels of her coat. It looked as though there was a darkness from inside that was spilling out onto the solid blood red that made up the rest of her suit. She also wore a gold necklace with a gold coin on it. You’ve never seen this one before. You frown as you pick it up to observe it, she hasn’t bought jewelry for herself in years. She was usually gifted jewelry and it was never as simple as this. As you move it in the light, an image of the Mockingjay appears. “That’s quite a piece right there.” You look around and notice all of the memorabilia and cheap merchandise of that bird that decorated the event on both the walls, tables, and even the guests.

“Like it?” Wanda asks as she leans in. “It’s one of a kind,” she winks.

You smirk as you adjust the gold coin on her chest. “Very fitting for you, Ms. Maximoff.” You wink. There was a reason this Mockingjay was hidden in plain sight but you weren’t going to ask standing in a heavily monitored event.

Wanda blushes, “You flatter me too much.” You’re about to ask where you could get something of your own when music announcing President Snow’s appearance cuts the conversation short. Every person that was inside of the mansion filtered out the back doors to give their full attention to the President as he addressed the attendees. You didn’t care too much for the speech when you noticed Finnick slipping away with the 75th Hunger Games head gamemaker, Plutarch Heavnsbee. You narrowed your eyes as you finished the rest of your mocktail. Wishing that you could’ve had alcohol inside.

That night, you didn’t follow them. You didn’t ask questions. You simply made polite conversation with the guests of honor as well as the other guests while making a mental note of everyone of your fellow victors that you’ve noticed disappear throughout the event. The absence that worried you the most was Wanda’s. You were certain she would have taken you home with her. Luckily, when you went to find out who did win the bidding war for your company, you were relieved to be informed that Ms. Maximoff was waiting for you at her home.

You didn’t ask Wanda where she disappeared off to when she finally slipped through the shadows and joined you in the bed. You kept your thoughts to yourself in the morning as you committed the details of being with her to your memory. Every freckle and beauty mark that was spread about on her body. Every kiss she placed on yours. Every taste. Every caress. The way her enchanting green eyes made you dream of a brighter future as you gazed into them. You memorized the way her breath changed as she got closer and closer to her climax. Her light giggles when you made a joke and kissed behind her ear. This wasn’t a meeting that you needed to numb yourself from. You wanted to be here between her warm silk sheets, memorizing the way she fit perfectly in your arms as she sat between your legs. Locking all of it away in a place close to your heart for you to use the next time you have to be with someone else.

“Wanda I,” you sighed where you sat at the edge of her bed as you got ready to leave her. She crawled up to you and wrapped her body around you as she hushed you.

“Don’t say it,” she whispered against your ear as she kissed your neck. “I know.” You nodded and melted in her embrace for a moment before you finished getting ready. Her time was almost up and the Peacekeepers were very punctual.

It was noon when you kissed her goodbye just as a Peacekeeper knocked lightly on the door to escort you to the vehicle that is going to deliver you to the train you’ll take home. You hated when Peacekeepers picked you up in the Capitol. They were so polite it made you sick. It was unfair. They were meant to keep the peace but often they could be the opposite in the districts. According to your father, that’s how you lost your mother. She was bartering with a Peacekeeper that was trying to lowball her. She refused and that made the officer unhappy. He had every Peacekeeper in Four keep a close eye on her and when she eventually slipped up, they had her executed. Your father never mentioned what she did that cost her life and you never asked.

But when you return to District 4, you end your streak of not asking questions and you pull Finnick aside to ask him what the hell is going on.

The Tribute The Mentor

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