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rotzaprachim · 2 years

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happy saturday besties! I’ve been working on my nina/helnik Hell Fic (tm) for a year now and felt. like i needed to have at least some of it up, for public record, for my own personal accountability that this is a body of words that exists in some fashion aside from in my head. (we’re clocking at about 60k rn and no where near finished.) so enjoy this spoiler-tastic, rough and marked-up section from square in the middle, which I slammed out in an afternoon while on an essay crisis and which convinced me there was an interesting story here I actually wanted to tell. TW for this being based on a YA novel, but very very adult in a lot of themes and implications

They stopped to eat the lunch Gudrun wrapped for them in waxed brown paper. Brown bread slathered thickly with fat and some oily, salty fish that filled Nina with the gloriously human smell of smoke. She had handfulls of dried berries in her pockets and dried lamb in her pack and she did not wish to think of the fact that here she was living of enemy kindnesses. They ate in silence and then dipped quickly into the water they melted down in the morning. Nina carefully licked all the crumbs from her greased fingers. “We need to talk,” she says. “We need to move so that we don’t turn cold,” Matthias said. He pulled himself to his feet and started to walk in his long, bow-legged strides, leaving Nina sputtering over her own feet to catch up. Her shawl flapped about her shoulders with a surprising degree of noise and stinging force. “Wait, wait,- oh for fuck’s sake, Lars.” This caused him to pause, at least momentarily, and look at her. “Do you always try to run when people want to talk to you? Honestly, Djel only knows why you still haven’t a wife.” “Mmph,” grunted the king of social graces. “What we’re going to do, mister, is walk through who Lars Solverson is.” “Why aren’t we doing this for Mila Jandersdat?” “Because Mila Jandersdat is a real fucking person already. This isn’t even my country and Mila Jandersdat’s not the problem.” “You… you made her up.” “And?” “She isn’t real.” Nina shrugged her shoulders. As if that mattered a whit.

“Go on, then. Ask Mila anything. Make polite conversation with Mila. Interrogate her, if you wish.” He thought for a moment. It was probably very taxing on him to use every one of his five brain cells. “What is Mila’s… favorite color?” “Pink.” He nodded squarely, satisfied. “Go on then, ask another.” “What is Mila’s favorite supper?” “Stewed elk and putrified shark. But if neither presents itself, I am more than satisfied with cold blueberry soup, with cream.” “A woman of good Fjerdan tastes,” he says appreciatively before suddenly pausing. “Wait-“ She smiles sweetly and batts her eyelashes. Bless the poor lad, although he’s becoming quickly keener to her devious nature. She hopes he doesn’t get too quick-witted, though, or else she’ll loose the best craic she’s got immediate access to, fucking around with the motherfucker who’se never been fucked. “Is every question you ask Mila going to be so dull? Does Mila have no hobbies or desires?” His eyes immediately flick away from her face. “A Fjerdan man with any sense of decency would never ask an unmarried woman he does not know such things. An unmarried Fjerdan girl would not even think of such things to begin with.” “Indeed. But Mila Jandersdat has not in a near decade’s time been an unmarried woman, and Lars knows her very well.” “Why-“ “Go on. Make it a question for Mila.” “Where is your [hejmland], Mila?” “A [vik] of medium size, downriver from the centerlands.” Matthias flinches, and Nina smiles inwardly at what a job she’d done with placing his accent. “Mila is just a simple farming girl. Her family grew potatoes and sugar beets, and fished, and had a cow called Rose-Maret who it was Mila’s job to take to the out-pasture with two or three of the younger brothers and sisters.” He weighed the story as rounded another snow-packed crest. Guðrún had given them extensive directions towards the next vik which Nina had understood none of and was now again reliant on the in no way tender mercies of Matthias’s navigational skills. “If Mila had such a humble origin, then why does she speak and write in Fjerdan like the Djerholm [gentry?]” Nina’s mind went blank. Every time Matthias revealed a brain under all that muscle, it was a more unpleasant surprise than anything. “Mila’s mother did laundry and washing in the house of the strong-holders such that Mila be taught something of arithmetic and geography, for Mila has so clever a child as learnt by heart the entire [Djelsprayer] hornbook at the tender age of eight, so wickedly clever is this woman Mila Jandersdat.” “And so dainty and humble as well.” “Indeead, the strong-holder’s wife became so taken by the wit and charms of Mila Jandersdat that she became very dear to the old woman, such that with no daughter and the all the sons gone off to war, she began to think of Mila as something of a niece and taught her what she knew of pincushion-embroidery and delicately plucking “Onward Fjerdan Soldiers” on the mandolin.” At this Matthias guffawed loudly. “And what of it?” “Mila would never sweetly play anything, let alone the mandolin.” Nina pursed her lips, suddenly shockingly cross at how this doltish soldier without an ounce of good culture to his name was judging the ladylike refinements of Mila Jandersdat. “Mila is a delicate Fjerdan flower.” At this Matthias guffawed still louder. It was a sound that shook his whole body and that she might have liked to hear more of if it had not been directed at her. “Mila may be a treacherously beautiful woman, but she is no delicate flower. She’s like the lurid blue wood-lichen that makes the bread-flour last a winter or else the arctic heather that nothing can stop from growing, not even the frost.” “All of this you know of Mila,” she huffed. “As you said, Lars know her very well.” In this way it continued. It gave them both something to do that felt like a more acceptable category of treason. In falling grey evenings and around campfires Lars and Mila came to increasingly fleshed life, and by laughing about it Nina could do what she’d always done when faced with the dizzyingly difficult, which was treat the task as a game. Mila Jandersdat was a woman of clever wits and a few human foibles for which she was all the more charming. She could dance a reel and tell a dirty joke and won blue ribbons for her cloudberry jam recipe. She was a big sister to all and the sort of friend with whom one might uncork a bottle of currant wine for a long chat in order to feel better about the world. “A good Fjerdan woman would not drink wine or brandy, or that which contains such spirits as may possess a soul.” “A bottle of honeywater,” Nina corrected herself, glaring. She assumed this would mollify him, but he then elaborated, “neither would she have the coin to buy such strong drink.” “Fine. Mila Jandersdat always has coffee and something sweet and a good bit of conversation for the guest who may darken her doorframe. There’s bread dough rising on the counter and some cider cake under a dome to keep the flies out and there’s a pie cooling on the windowsill with the fluttering lace curtains. There are always good things for the unexpected stranger to eat. And no one in Mila’s household is ever hungry. No one.” Her mouth felt dry. She huffed in breath. “What a marvel of feminine hospitality is Mila Jandersdat! What a wife does Lars have!” “A good Fjerdan housewife would never waste so much pay on sugar and trifles.” “Would not Lars the good Fjerdan husband provide for his wife so as to keep her in comfort?” And so it went. The found the next farm stead, and the one after, and worked several days in each place at the weaving and haying in exchange for a pile of gloriously warm blankets on the floor and the Kvöldvaka light. Everywhere it was immeidately known how they were breaking the most clear-cut of wartime laws and ever time the wordlessly provided excuse was understood in full sympathy and some variety of spell, prayer, or enchantment was cast upon Mila’s womb so that it may take her husband’s seed and bear his family fruit. “Maybe Lars has a low sperm count,” she groused as they walked off. The housemistress told them they had at least another week through the blackrock but that there would not be more than a lone overnight camping between farmsteads and Nina breathed a sigh of relief before realising that meant trading the danger of open landscape for the more specific domestic dangers of the people that wanted to burn her kind to ashes. “Lars does not have a- what that is,” Matthias said defensively, before more trepiditiously asking, “what is that?” “You’re not ready.” According to Matthias’s fictions, Lars Sølverson was pious, self-sufficient, sturdy, moral, dependable, reliable, and altogether decent. He provided for his wife in way that was comfortable and yet economically prudent as befits the sort of upstanding man who is not in debt and neither will pass on a debt to his children. He did not partake of strong drink. His eyes did not wanter off to strange women, and as such he had not brought home diseases of an indiscrete nature or begotten any bastards, He always did a day’s honest work except for on Djel’s Day, which he spent in prayer and fellowship. He was well-liked among men. “How lucky was Mila to have found such a man,” said Nina before she belatedly remembered that the word she had used did not mean “lucky” so much as “blessed.” “Every well-suited match is a blessing from Djel, but Mila was not particularly singular, for that is the sort of Fjerdan man who can be found in any farm, or meeting-house, or regiment-camp. There is nothing (unique) about Lars being an upstanding and morals-driven Fjerdan man.” {INSERT BRIDGE-EXPLANATION OF HOW LARS AND MILA MET)

“Her brother wanted to marry her to a blacksmith whose work shoeing carriage horses meant there would always be bread on her plate and fire enough to keep her warm in th, e winter, and what man in Fjerda could offer her more? The blacksmith had a braying, crass way of speaking about “his woman,” and he looked at her a if she was a dressed leg of lamb, but her children would likely never be too hungry nor too cold. And so she was happy with her lot as she might be, and one day was buying new dress-hooks to fix her mother’s wedding dress when she saw him walking in the marketplace, and wanted him.” “So he knocked upon her father’s door-“ Matthias tried to jab in sideways. “So he made her a wedding ring of dentist’s gold and they ran off into the night.” “Lars would never have ruined her like that.” “Mila Jandersdat is a woman, not a broken platter. She isn’t ruined.” “He would never have broken her honour in front of her family or her community so that she could never have returned home. Lars knew a woman worth more than rubies what he saw one, even staring boldly-“ “I was not staring boldly! I was making eyes in a lavicious, untoward manner-“ “So he asked of her name, and learned it was Mila Jandersdat. That very evening he knocked at her father’s door. He was invited to dinner as any a wandering soul might be. He dined with her family three times before he was left alone with her and before the courting could begin. He took her father to meet his and see the sort of place he would have to his name and if were a godly sort of people he had come from.” “Mila’s mother and sisters dug through the scraps bin to start the Hringsa quilt,” she said. They would have taken the drinking glasses and candlesticks off of the dining table to pin out the little pieced-out triangles into the trunk and roots and leaves of the Tree of Life, and then they would have stitched it together in a winter’s worth of Kvöldvaka [Kvoldvakar?] after they’d done their National Service, spinning from their own sheep the sails of druskelle ships. Mila cut into strips the nut-brown tablecloth to make the trunk of her tree, for the living, and unravelled her too-small childhood mittens into the yarn with which stitched a spinning fractal of strong roots for the ancestors. She cut up her own baby blanket for the good green cloth with which to stitch the leaves. When it was done Mila folded the blanket and put it into the carved wooden chest of her bridal troseau and when she and her mother unfolded it over her marriage bed on the morning of her wedding, it would have been a sort of marking of territory. A national flag for a different sort of nation. And in the evening, jittered from cake and nerves, Mila would have run her index finger over the sturdy interfitting of triangles- the blue calico of her aunt’s apron, the red triangle of her other’s kirk shawl- while she waited on the bed for her husband to come in from the party, and have her. Lars and Mila fucked on that quilt. When she pinned the thing on the line to air out during the spring cleaning and everyone passing by could see, it was also a sort of declaration. When a fortnight after her marriage she woke to find her belly cramping and blood sticking to the insides of her thighs, she cried. As she rubbed out the stains with baking soda and river water she thanked Djel there was no child yet twisting inside of her. When five years on she did the same, she railed against her wretchedness, her godless condition, because that was an easier thing to stomache than the notion that the All-Source of All-Water had closed her womb in punishment for her sinful being. {insert something to return back to main narrative} Nina looked up, which was somehow a struggle. Mila was the full rushing force of a tidal wave pulling her under the water. She was as real as anything. “He must have loved her a lot,” she said, her tongue heavy. “To keep her as his wife. Mila. Lars’s wife. After eight years and no sons unto his name.” [Lars was not real. Lars was as real as the cardboard cutouts Kerch pleasure-piers stuck outside bordellos to advertise the enticements inside. Nina did want to think about what you’d find if you tipped Lars over.] “No honorable man would leave a woman he had made his wife to the cold like that.” Nina shrugged. “Even if she slept in his bed and ate his bread off his hard earned soldier’s wage and gave him no issue?” Matthias’s fingers worried at the hem of his trousers. He did not want to talk about this, she supposed. He wanted to talk about this more than anything. “Only a cruel man would blame the hand of Djel upon a woman.” “Then we live in a world full of cruel men.” All of the breached babies and ectopic pregnancies and angry, angry husbands. Sometimes it felt like more of a battle to serve in the domestic wards than it had been to dig out bullets from shoulders a half-hour from the front line. And more direct threats on her life, besides. Everyone knew that witches killed babies, and baked cakes from their blood, and cursed them to be born early, and quickened women with seven at home already and too-eager husbands, and everyone knew that witches turned sons to daughters with the flick of a wrist and a few esoteric sayings. Everyone knew. Matthias looked into Nina’s eyes. He did not try to tell her that Fjerdan men were not cruel. Not even the honorable Fjerdan men.

#A hartz iz nisht kein meleks trone #hell fic #nina zenik #matthias helvar #i would have your ghost #my writing #it's at like ....2.5 k for this section but 60k overall and this section relies on some longer running plot threads and themes #undercover work tee hee #if it clarifies and or spoils everything: one of the key insert themes of the fic is that nina and matthias went undercover as an ordinary #fjerdan couple during the endless ice hike so there's pretending to be married drama

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babyboibucky · 3 years

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The Match - Part 7

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (woops the longest part yet)

Summary: You finally decide to lower your pride and talk things out with Bucky.

Warnings: SMUT IS BACK BABIES! Oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, also lots of alcohol consumption, Bucky stalking you, annoying people I guess? Uhhh y’all might want to strangle me at the end lmfaooooo

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, every single time I update this I get nervous as fuck because what if this story starts to suck lmao but okay I just hope everyone’s still enjoying this story. Thank you for the continuous support like fuck??? People actually like reading my shit so I’m really flattered. Sending y’all sloppy kisses ‘cause I’m a hoe like that

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

"Uhh you might want to slow down on the drinks."

Mark was right about the bar serving the best drinks. It was actually a Mexican-themed bar which also served Tex-Mex food. The drinks were so good that the main course hasn't even arrived yet and you were already on your third frozen margarita.

"Let me have this, Mark. It's been a pretty shitty week." you told him, finishing up your drink before asking the waiter for another round.

Mark watched you with a funny look on his face, the kind that was baffled at the way you were acting now. He probably thought you were all prim and proper, given your demeanor at the office. But with the way you were stuffing your mouth with chicken quesadillas, you were far from being the department head that everybody seemed to respect.

Stress eating. That was what you were doing, because holy shit did you get on Bucky's last nerve. With the message, no, more like warning, that he sent you earlier, you might as well have your last meal before your execution.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark carefully asked but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched you eat.

You hummed, mouth full of food. "Totally okay. These quesadillas are the bomb, actually."

Mark laughed, "It's good that you're enjoying the food. I'll be honest, I really appreciate that you agreed to go on this date. I mean, if you even would like to call it that." he explained, much to your relief actually.

You swallowed your food and took a sip from your glass of water, "Thank you." you told him. "Well, this can be a date. A friendly one, of course." you awkwardly chuckled.

Mark nodded, "I don't want to pressure you into anything. I guess I got a little to enthusiastic earlier and I'm really sorry for that. It's just that...you're a really interesting person and you're cool." he admitted with a charming smile.

If Bucky was out of the picture, you would have actually swooned at Mark's charm. He wasn't so bad, he was tall and handsome. He oozed a certain charm, the nice guy kind of charm and any girl would really appreciate the honesty he was showing you now.

You smiled at him, "You're pretty cool too, Mark."

The friendly date was very fun, you definitely didn't expect to enjoy it to the point of forgetting about Bucky's warning. Mark was a nice guy, you realized. Bucky doesn't have to worry about him because it was never even your intention to make him jealous in the first place.

By the time the dessert was being served, you were bellowing from laughter. You literally had tears in your eyes from how hard Mark was making you laugh with his hilarious stories.

Little did you know that from someone else's point of view, you looked like you were having the time of your life with Mark. Your laughter, the ease you were exuding as the both of you talked-- it was very easy to misunderstand.

Especially if that point of view belonged to none other than Bucky, who was sitting silently inside his car that was parked right across the bar.

"Oh god, I can't breathe!" you exclaimed amid your laughter, leaning back against your seat.

Mark heaved out a shy, "That was really, really embarassing." he said timidly.

Mark's phone buzzed in the middle of the conversation, his face turning into a frown as he read the message.

"Hey, everything okay?" you worriedly asked.

"It's my younger sister. I'm needed back home." he explained with a sigh.

"Is everything okay?" you asked worriedly, holding Mark's arm to comfort him.

Mark nodded, "It's fine. It's just a little family emergency." he said before offering you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I can drop you off on the way home--"

"Hey, it's fine. You can go. I'll be fine. Your family needs you." you reassured with a smile.

Mark sighed, "I'll make it up to you next time." he said, fishing out a couple of bills from his wallet.

You walked out of the bar with Mark and bid goodbye, giving him a friendly hug before he slipped inside his car. As soon as Mark drove off, you headed back inside the bar and ordered a couple of shots because you badly needed to get Bucky off your mind.

Your head was pounding when you stirred awake, your throat burning and vision spinning as you opened your eyes. The light that greeted you made you hiss, pulling the covers over your head you tried to get back to your slumber.

Until you realized that the bed was soft, too soft to be your own. And when did you even own a duvet?

Slowly but surely, you sat up and looked around you, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not your room. Shit, did you sleep with Mark? Fuck no, you remembered him going home early due to a family emergency.

You squeezed your temples and shut your eyes, trying your best to recall everything that happened after you went back to the bar. Flashes of tequila shots and glasses of mojitos made you dizzy. Jesus christ, how many did you drink?!

And then you threw up in the streets as you attempted to walk home. Shit. Someone pulled your hair back while you puked and then there was nothing but darkness.

Pulling the duvet down, you noticed that you weren't wearing anything but a white shirt and your panties. You lifted the shirt up to your nose and sniffed it.

The scent was too memorable to forget.

"I thought you wouldn't be up until the afternoon."

You stilled at the sound of Bucky's voice and you almost didn't want to look up from your lap when he walked into his bedroom. How the hell did you end up at his place?!

"Four frozen margaritas, two shots of tequila and two tall glasses of mojito. I'm surprised you're still alive." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

He was wearing a tight black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. This was the most casual you'd ever seen Bucky, but also the most feral. You thought that the scowl he gave you at the elevator was the worst, apparently, this Bucky in front of you, seemed the most dangerous.

"Why am I here?" you asked softly.

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed side table, fetching the glass of water and a bottle of painkillers that you failed to notice when you woke up.

"Drink." he commanded and waited for you to take the glass before moving back to stand at the foot of the bed.

Your eyes never left Bucky's when you popped a pill into your mouth. After drinking water, you carefully placed it back on the bedside table and exhaled heavily.

"What happened last night?" you asked again.

"Your date left you." Bucky said, matter of factly.

You snickered, "It wasn't a date and Mark didn't le--"

Your very own squeal cut your statement off when Bucky threw the duvet aside, grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards the edge of the bed until your legs were hanging off. He didn't waste any time to kneel in between your thighs, holding your neck in place as his nose brushed against yours.

Your lids fluttered at the closeness, his scent yet again invading your senses, making you lose all your inhibitions because fuck, it's been too fucking long.

"Let me have this, please..." Bucky whispered against your lips.

When you failed to respond, Bucky took it as his go signal to crash his lips against yours. You knew this was a bad idea because one taste of Bucky and you're gone and yet you let him take what he needed from you.

Because you needed him just as much. So you kissed him back fervently, your fingers carding through his hair as you tugged him closer, wanting to feel and taste all of him.

Bucky breathily chuckled when you whined as he pulled away, only to shower your neck with open-mouthed kisses which made your body buzz with need. Your head was still hurting and you felt like you were going to pass out from dizziness but fuck it, you couldn't care less. Especially not now when Bucky was now nipping at your inner thigh while his hands were spreading you wide open.

All your thoughts flew right out of the window the moment Bucky pushed your underwear aside, his mouth quickly latching over your clit. A needy, raspy moan escaped your lips when Bucky sucked your bud followed by his tongue flattening against your folds.

"Fuck, Bucky..." you breathed out, falling down on your back as he continued lapping up your pussy.

You'd almost forgotten how fucking good Bucky was with his mouth and tongue. You elicited another whimper when he pulled back, but only to stand up and pull down his sweatpants, revealing his cock-- already hard and weeping with pre-cum.

In one swift motion, Bucky slid into your cunt. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you adjusted to his size. With how your pussy was clenching down on his cock, you realized that indeed, it's been too fucking long.

Bucky moved slow at first, letting you adjust to him before he began to speed up his thrusts. His breathing was erratic, soft grunts and growls reverberating from his chest as he fucked you. You gripped his forearms when he started pistoling his hips into yours, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Want you to watch me fuck you." he growled, pulling you up to lean against your elbows.

Bucky held your neck with both his hands, forcing you to look down at your pussy while his cock slides in and out of it. Your face scrunched into pleasure, your mouth open as moans and whimpers continued to escape past your lips.

"Keep your eyes on my cock, see how your pussy takes all of it." Bucky demanded as he fucked you relentlessly.

Your thighs began to tremble, your entire body thrumming from pleasure. You tried to keep your eyes open as you watched Bucky fuck you fast and hard. Clawing at his biceps, you held on for dear life when you felt yourself teeter at the edge of your climax.

"Gonna cum, Bucky..." you moaned as your eyelids fluttered.

Bucky kissed your hard, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth before tugging at it. He pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear, licking at your skin before sucking your earlobe.

"Remember this when that Marcus fails to fuck you real good." he whispered and then pulled out just before you could even cum.

You blinked, unable to process what just happened. Bucky stood up and pulled his sweatpants back up. He rubbed his chin angrily before turning to you.

"You really blew me off to be with a guy who left you at the bar." he said.

Bucky really seduced you, fucked you raw only to edge you and deny you of your fucking orgasm. And now he was reprimanding you? While your legs were spread, panties pushed aside and your wet pussy out there for the world to see. You quickly adjusted your underwear, pulled your shirt down and sat up.

"What the fuck, Bucky?" you hissed. "First of all, his name is Mark. Second, he didn't leave me at the bar!" you exclaimed before you realized something.

"Wait, how did you know?" you asked, finally realizing that Bucky seemed to know everything that took place last night. "Bucky, did you follow me at the bar? Is this why I'm here?" you asked, standing up to come face to face with him.

Bucky shrugged, "So what if I did? If I didn't, you'd wake up in the streets, in your own vomit because again, you went for a guy who couldn't even bring her girl home. You should actually thank me." he said.

"Thank you!" you yelled. "I appreciate you bringing me back to your place. I really do." you said, calmly this time. "But can you please not bring Mark into this because he's a nice guy." you explained, squeezing the bridge of your nose.

Bucky snorted, "You call that nice? He left you!" he said again.

"He didn't! There was an emergency, for fuck's sake! He needed to go home and I said I can take care of myself." you said. "I shouldn't even be explaining myself to you yet I am because you're being really irrational right now." you scolded Bucky.

Bucky shook his head, "You really expect me to believe you? I saw how you laughed with him, how carefree you looked when you talked. How you caressed his arm and you're asking me not to bring Mickey into this conversation?"

You hid your face into your palms, "It wasn't a date, Bucky. We both made it clear. And he's a good person, I enjoyed talking to him. That's it. And again, it's Mark." you said through gritted teeth.

"Not a date my ass, you were flirting with him." Bucky accused.

You scoffed, "I wasn't flirting with him! I was casually talking to him like how a friend would! How hard is that to understand, Bucky?!" you exclaimed.

"You were never like that with me!"

"It's because we did nothing but fuck each other, Bucky!"

"That's why I wanted to make it official but you said no!"

"I already told you the reason why!"

"And yet you went out with a co-worker!"

"We're not just co-workers, Bucky. You're my fucking boss! The fucking CEO! How many times do I have to...you know what, it's useless for me to even explain it again to you." you said.

Bucky chuckled bitterly, "You're going to regret this." he said with a sinister smirk.

"Why can't you understand where I'm coming from?" you asked exasperatedly.

"Maybe because you won't let me help you." he said confidently. "And you know what I hate the most about this thing we have? It's that you want me too but you're too stubborn to give in. And you know what? I'll make sure you do." Bucky said, towering over you and staring deeply in your eyes.

"What I want, I always get."

The weekend passed by like a blur-- a huge, messy blur that made your head and heart hurt. You wanted to spend the weekend to ponder on things, to forget about Bucky even for just a while and now that was impossible after everything that happened.

You caved in first, that was for sure. And the thing is, you don't even regret it but then Bucky exploded and now everything seemed to have gotten worse. You understood why he was so mad at Mark, poor guy though, but he wouldn't even listen to you when you said that the date wasn't even a legitimate one!

"What the fuck did I get myself into?" you uttered under your breath as you sat in your car in the parking.

You began to analyze the situation you were in and drew out possible solutions to your dilemma. Nothing a good conversation can't solve, right? So maybe talking things out with Bucky properly would make things right. The previous conversations you had with him were always too emotional with both your egos getting in the way.

Alright fine, you'd tone down your pride for Bucky this time around and tell him that you do want to be with him. It's just that the repercussions scared the living daylights out of you.

You can't afford to lose your job nor everyone's respect. So if you were going to do this with Bucky, he has to understand that he has to be really careful. Everything must be done in secret, for the meantime at least.

"That sounds about right." you sighed, feeling hopeful that this might actually work out.

The shift in your mood gave you a little bounce as you walked into the building. You were confident that maybe Bucky was able to calm down over the weekend. Perhaps today was a good day to have a decent talk with him.

As soon as you reached your floor, you hurriedly went to your cubicle to drop your things. The earlier you get to talk to Bucky, the better. So as soon as you were done, you jogged back to the elevator excitedly, unable to notice how everyone seemed to be preoccupied gossiping about something.

Your heart was pounding as you walked along the corridor leading to Bucky's office. Fuck, you were really going to risk it all for one Bucky Barnes. You were a few steps away from the door, ready to reach for the knob when an unfamiliar voice called your attention.

"I'm sorry?" you asked, turning around.

"Sir James said not to let anyone disturb him right now." you were met with the presence of a blonde girl who looked younger than you, an intern maybe?

You nodded but then spared another glance at Bucky's office. "Yeah, I uhh need to talk to him. It's usually not a problem for me to barge into his office." you explained with a soft chuckle.

The girl made a face, "I'm sorry, but I'm just following Sir James' orders." she explained, walking around the desk near Bucky's office.

"I don't think we've met. Are you an intern?" you asked, trying to be as nice as much as possible.

The girl giggled, straight on giggled cutely and stood up again. She excitedly extended an arm for an overly eager handshake, "I'm Beverly. I'm Sir James' secretary. It's my first job!"

You blinked, "Oh...oh uh what happened to Amelie?" you asked, curious about Bucky's previous secretary.

Beverly tilted her head, "I don't know. I just got a call over the weekend from Sir James, offering me the job so I accepted it. I mean, he is pretty cute. Right?" she said in a soft voice.

Is this Bucky's plan? To hire a younger, more bubbly secretary who'd follow his every order? Someone who was the complete opposite of you? Because if this was his plan to get you to cave, it wasn't working. At all.

Sure, Beverly was pretty and young and very chirpy. But you were sure she wasn't Bucky's type. He was never into obedient little girls, hell, your defiance turned Bucky on. This was definitely not working.

You didn't know why, but instead of relief you felt even more nervous. Because if this wasn't Bucky's threat to you, what could it be? You snapped out of your pessimism, maybe Bucky came around over the weekend too?

Only one way to find out.

"Beverly..." you carefully said. "I'm just going to go inside. And don't worry, I'll make sure that Mister Barnes won't get mad at you. This is all me, alright?" you reassured.

Beverly pouted and sighed, "I don't know, because he was very clear with his instructions. And he's talking to--"

"I got you, Bev. I'm going in now." you said, cutting her off and then going straight for Bucky's office.

Taking in a deep breath, you pushed the door open and wasted no time to talk.

"Hey, I really need to talk to you. I thought about--"

"Oh, who's this little lady?"

Your eyes widened upon seeing Bucky in the company of another woman. She looked like she was around your age, except that she was taller and had legs for days. Her brunette hair reached past her shoulders in lovely waves. She was wearing a white chiffon blouse paired with a pair of black trousers and matching stilettos.

She oozed the charm of a lady boss. The way she carried herself reminded you of someone but you just couldn't point out who it was.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." you said, straightening up and turning to look over at Bucky who lifted a brow at you.

That fucking look of mischief.

"I told Beverly not to let anyone in." he said.

"I just wanted to--"

"Oh come on now, Bucky. Don't be so grumpy this early, you were about to call everyone for a meeting anyway." the woman said, turning to you with a smile.

Did she just call him...Bucky?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, well you're already here might as well introduce you first."

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky in confusion, "I don't understand what's going on." you said.

Bucky stood up from his chair and walked over to the other woman, standing beside her. Seeing them side by side was making you feel things. You haven't even seen them interact that much but you were already sensing that you were going to hate their dynamics.

"This is Mackenzie. I hired her to help us out on a huge project which I will be discussing with the entire team this morning." Bucky introduced a little too proudly for your liking.

Mackenzie offered her hand, "You can just call me Kenzie. I'm a marketing consultant. And you are?" she asked.

Your blood boiled, your eye twitched and your heart ached. Because now you realized who it was that Mackenzie reminded you of when it came to her charisma.

You.

And not only did she have a similar personality to yours-- confident and had authority-- but she also seemed to be here to take the one thing you worked so hard for.

You offered a smile, taking Mackenzie's hand in yours as you mentioned your name, your piercing eyes glancing over at Bucky.

"I'm the head of marketing."

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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rezzyromance · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

Note

Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

———————————————————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.

#yandere aizawa #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere erasmic #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic family #yandere siren #yandere fantasy #yandere x child reader #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic obsession

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Teacher/Student Roleplay.

Request: what about snape and a fellow teacher in a pre-established relationship, but the reader is roleplaying as a student for some fun bedroom play? maybe some funny stuff about how he’s sweeter on her than the actual students?

A/N: HNksdnasodasndk WOW I LIKE THIS ONE.

Word Count: 1,970

“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.”

“You’re tense, Severus.” Your gentle voice spoke out to break the silence in Severus’ home study.

The strain in his muscles caused a wince to clearly show on your expression as your hands massage at his shoulders and back. Fridays usually proved to be the hardest on Severus. The students were always much more rambunctious and much more difficult to control when they had the weekend on their consciences, much to his dismay. Students of all Houses had given him a run for his money today, even the Hufflepuffs who were usually the most well behaved were causing Severus grief.

Cauldrons had been knocked over, potions were spilled onto the floor, glass vials were broken into tiny pieces, and heated arguments had broken out that Severus had to break up, and he had assigned at least five kids to detention. On top of everything else, all the kids had seemed to be off the walls with excitement.

The absolute bane of Severus’ occupation.

He was disgruntled and aggravated when he returned to his home office, plopping himself behind his desk near the bed and sitting there to stew. He feared that his sour mood would cause him to snap at you and start a fight that he surely didn’t want to have.

However, he should’ve known that you’d come looking for him when he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Professors weren’t supposed to reside outside of the castle during the school year, but Severus wanted to get away from just one night. You peeked into his bedroom with a bright grin, indicating that you had clearly had a much better day than he had. His irritation was very obvious to you, so you allowed yourself in and had rubbed his shoulders and given him sweet kisses to soothe him.

He had told you all about his terrible day, not leaving out any detail.

“Darling, I’ve been fending off obnoxious students all day. You’d be uptight as well.” He grumbled, rolling his neck to try and work out the hard knots.

A soft laugh fell from your lips, sending a rush of warmth to shoot through Severus’ heart.

“Oh, come on. They’re just kids. They were good today.” You remarked, firmly running your fingers along his arms.

“They’re always good for you,” Severus claimed; “Even my Slytherins don’t give you any trouble.”

You moved from behind him to stand beside him, looking into his tired pools of black.

“Because I’m flexible with them. I understand how difficult things can get and I offer my help for those who need it,” You explained; “You don’t have to be their friend or anything, but you could be easier to work for.”

Severus scoffed incredulously. That was probably the biggest difference between the two of you. You had very different views when it came to teaching. Students seemed to favor you over Severus (however, most students preferred anyone over Severus) due to your friendly nature. You were warm hearted and made sure your students knew you were available as a resource to them. They respected you as a professor and were comfortable around you as a friend.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a hard ass all the time, they might like you a little more.” You added, hiding your smirk.

Severus’ eyebrows dipped a tad, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“Watch yourself. I’ll send you to detention too.” He said purely as a joke, but his body flushing with arousal when he saw your demeanor turn lustful.

“Have I been bad, Professor?” You purred, your voice going up a pitch.

The use of his work title coming from your lips was turning him on way more than he would’ve liked to admit. His pale cheeks went dark red, and his skin began to itch with desire.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He rumbled, sitting up a little straighter so he could touch you.

One of his hands came to peel off your long winter coat to show more of your skin that was hidden away, but his pupils blew about 3x their usual size when he saw what you were wearing underneath. It was a seemingly innocent outfit to someone who wasn’t very observant, but to Severus it was about as scandalous as he could handle.

“What are you wearing?” He asked lowly, his eyes unashamedly gawking over your chosen outfit.

It was an old uniform skirt of yours from your days at Hogwarts, adorned with your House colors and the mascot stitched in the lower left side of the skirt. It was much shorter than when you wore it as a student. You had grown taller since first wearing it and you now filled it out in a much more provocative way since you had been in your adolescent years.

“This old thing? I just had to change before coming to see you,” You teetered, knowing good and well it was driving him wild; “You know, I think you’re much sweeter on me than your other students, Professor.”

“My other students don’t look at me the way you do. My resolve is so very thin around you,” He reminded you, his hand sliding up your leg to push the skirt past your hips. A surprised exhale of air escaped his chest when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath; “Not even wearing your knickers...I’m tempted to take House points away for your behavior.”

Ecstatic thrills buzzed through you that he had jumped onto your little game. You arched your back to meet his frame as his hands began to massage at your hips.

“Oh, please. Anything but that!” You mocked a desperate tone.

A hard, rutted fucking would take tension away from even the most strained of people. Severus needed a good stress release, and you knew this was a hell of a good way to do so, and have some fun while you were at it.

“Bad students have to be punished, Miss [L/N]. Actions have consequences.” He tutted.

Arousal was beginning to glisten your inner thighs, something that Severus never failed to notice. His fingertips were ice cold against your heated sex, a pitiful whimper leaving your lips when he glacially dragged his fingers through your folds.

“Surely...there’s something I can do to rectify my behavior, Professor.” You purred out in a hush of a voice.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are? You’re much worse than I thought...” Severus teased.

Severus stared at you thoughtfully when you only looked at him through batting lashes. His fingers were stilled and refusing to move despite your desperate grinds against his hand. He stood from his chair to tower over you, a rush of intimidation and desire beginning to spew through the cracks of the dam that was ready to crumble completely.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered.

You teased your lower lip with your teeth, obliging to his husky command and retreating to his large bed, sinking and sprawling yourself out on the mattress seductively. This was a damn gorgeous sight to see. He loved the way you were wriggling with anticipation and expectation for him. Your thighs were rubbing together to create even just an ounce of friction to appease the ache.

“You’re so impatient. If you’re so needy then I suppose you can get yourself of-”

“No! Please, I need you, sir,” You droned.

He had joined you on the bed, placing a knee on either side of you to keep you from going anywhere. He watched your squirm some more while he removed his belt and pants in a painfully slow fashion. He was determined to bring you to the brink of insanity. He wanted every noise that came out of you to either be a plea or a moan.

“I’m feeling rather generous tonight.” He fished his hard dick out of his boxers, the sight filling you with joy.

You couldn’t help but smirk up at him, rolling your hips into his pelvis casually.

“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.” You grinned.

With that statement and without missing a beat, Severus shoved all of his cock into your throbbing entrance, the dam breaking completely. A stunned cry wailed out into the room, echoing off of the walls. Severus didn’t even bother to strip you of your clothes.

He had all the access he needed.

He gave you only a few seconds to adjust to his length before he started pounding into you. You didn’t realize just how much pent up stress and aggravation he really had until each new thrust had your eyes rolling back into your head.

You thanked your lucky stars that you were in the privacy of his home and not his quarters at school, because even with a silencing charm you were sure that it’d be blatantly obvious what was happening. You didn’t think it was possible, but he started pushing in even harder, earning him a praise.

“Oh, fuck! Severus...” You rang out, not even realizing your mistake.

He stopped completely, his hand coming up to grip your chin to make you look at him.

“Do you call all of your professors by their first name? I probably should just leave you here for-”

“Please, no! I’m sorry, Professor Snape, just...please, don’t stop.” You yowled pathetically.

Severus rotated his hips to find a new angle as well as putting your heel on his shoulder to push into you deeper. He started fucking into you again, almost breaking when he saw the way your eyes squinted shut.

“Such a bad girl,” He muttered out through thrusts; “Showing up to see your professor and expecting a reward.”

You moaned out in response, your brain was too cloudy to form a verbal response. Your breasts were pushing against the thin material of your shirt, your lacy bra underneath just barely visible. He held your wrists above your head to keep them pinned down, his other hand firmly gripping your thigh draped on his shoulder.

Severus' pace and pressure was perfect, throwing you into a continuous spiral of pleasure with each delicious movement. He was sucking hard hickeys on your neck and just on the tops of your breasts, leaving marks to let the world know you were his.

That familiar coil was hot and close to snapping at any moment. Severus twitched somewhere deep inside of you, hitting every bundle of nerves he could possibly find. It wasn’t until his ring and index finger found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that you alerted him.

“P-Professor, I’m close.” You whimpered, praying that he wasn’t going to stop now.

He didn’t stop, continuing his perfect thrusts.

“Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” He said through a strained voice.

With a final lust driven hum, you clenched and came around him, his own release spilling into you shortly after. He filled you with everything he had with a loud groan. His recent release mixed with yours as it leaked from you onto the sheets. Severus didn’t care in the least.

He fell next to you, breathings heavy and words feeling impossible to come by. The lust had cleared from his vision, and he was feeling much more relaxed now.

“Are you alright, love?” He asked, pulling your skirt down to cover at least a little bit of you from the cold hair.

A sleepy, satisfied smile appeared on your face as you nodded. He captured your lips in a lazy kiss, your voice breaking it shortly after.

“I think...it’s safe to say that I’m your favorite student.” You joked.

Severus chuckled.

“Well, if you WERE a student then yes. But I’m perfectly happy with how things are.” He praised.

You giggled lightly, kissing him once more.

“Yeah. Me too.”

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #alan rickman #severus snape x female reader #severus snape smut #severus snape oneshot #severus snape fanfiction #seriouslysnape

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

* * *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader

Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.

Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention

Masterlist

Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.

Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.

“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.

“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.

Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”

Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”

“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”

“Well that sounds rather exciting.”

“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.

“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”

Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.

“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.

“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.

Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”

Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”

“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.

“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.

“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.

——

“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.

“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.

Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.

Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”

——

“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.

“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.

The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.”

After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.

“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.

No, stop thinking about him.

“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”

Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.

It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.

“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.

He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.

Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.

“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.

Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”

Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.

“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.

“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”

Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.

“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”

“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”

“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.

Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.

“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.

“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”

Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”

Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.

Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.

Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”

Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.

“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.

Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.

Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”

Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”

Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.

Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.

He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”

“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.

Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.

“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.

Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”

Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.

“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”

Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.

“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies.

Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.

Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.

Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.

“Nandor!”

Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.

With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”

“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.

“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.

“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.

Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.

“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”

You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.

Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.

Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”

#I love me some himbo vampire what can I say #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #Nandor #Nandor x reader #nandor x you #nandor x y/n #wwdits #what we do in the shadows x reader #fanfiction #my fanfic

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody). And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are. Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell.

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair.

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become.

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip.

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career.

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues.

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers.

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him.

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had.

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near.

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.”

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh.

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways.

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach.

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with.

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer.

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you.

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so.

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not.

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say.

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it.

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them.

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why.

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off.

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought.

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?”

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke.

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together.

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers.

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

#jj fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx imagine #obx fic #jj maybank one shot

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Text

ok ok i got the writing bug again. cam drives luther to the hospital to figure out why he's got Shrinks When Gay Disorder. 2k words.

~~~

“Well, Mr. Algers, from what I can tell you’ve got a very rare, very difficult autoimmune disease. We call it Gulliver’s Hanahaki.”

Luther sits glumly on the examining table, clad in a paper gown. He resists the urge to pick at the edges of it, instead keeping a tight grip on the table. Doctor’s offices always make him fidgety.

“Basically,” Dr. Townsend continues, “when your body encounters a specific form of stress, it will react in an attempt to defend itself, resulting in the reduction of size you’ve been experiencing.”

“So is there… any kind of cure?” Luther asks.

“Well, no. It’s not the kind of disease you cure.”

“Treatment of any kind? Pills I can take, shots, anything to stop it?” An edge of desperation creeps into his voice, the paper covering the table crinkling as his fingers dug into it.

“Nothing I can give you, I’m sorry to say,” Dr. Townsend sighs. “Unfortunately, its rarity means that it’s difficult to study. Any medication is still in the early trial stages and it wouldn’t be ethical for me to prescribe. There are two forms of preventative measures you can take to avoid further episodes, however.”

Luther straightens up from his slump. Thank god, something to get this nightmare to finally end!

“The first is very effective. Since the episodes are triggered by attraction to another individual and the anxiety resulting from that attraction, if you are able to avoid interactions with that individual altogether, no further anxiety will be triggered.”

Luther deflates, shoulders sagging. “That won’t work,” he mumbles. “We live in the same building.”

Dr. Townsend nods sympathetically. “I thought it might be something like that,” he sighs. “Your other option is to confess.”

Luther reels back like he’s been slapped. “Confess?”

“Yes. These episodes are made worse by bottling up your attraction or attempting to deny it. This causes the stress to compound and become more intense. If you admit your feelings to the individual you’re attracted to, then you will remove some of that stress and your episodes will be less frequent and less severe.”

“But- but that would only stress me out more!” Luther says, throwing his arms out to the sides. “I mean, I mean what if he says no? What if he says yes? What if he -”

Dr. Townsend puts a hand on Luther’s shoulder, cutting him off. His hand is… very large. Too large. Dr. Townsend and Luther are about the same height, after all, but his hand barely fits on Luther’s shoulder. Luther realizes suddenly that he’d been shrinking, and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I see your point. I just gotta tell him how I feel. Easy peasy.”

“Hm.” the doctor says. He lets his hand drop and a tinge of sympathy colors his serious expression. “Good luck, Luther. This is a very difficult disease to live with, even once you’ve mitigated your stress as much as possible. If there’s anything else I can do to support you, please let me know. Otherwise, our consultation is at an end for today. I’ll start reaching out and seeing what options there are for you - maybe a support group would help?”

“Thank you, doctor. That would be nice, actually. Um. Quick question - how… small can I get? Could I just… entirely disappear?”

Dr. Townsend lets out a huge sigh. “Well… on record, the smallest a person with Gulliver’s Hanahaki has been reliably measured at is about one and a quarter inch. There are rumors of people getting down to five centimeters, but frankly, that’s just ridiculous.”

Luther stares at the doctor for a long moment. “Right. Ridiculous.”

~~~

When he gets out to the waiting room, Luther is surprised to see Cam sitting there.

“I thought you left? You didn’t have to stick around.”

“Figured you might need a ride back. Wouldn’t want you shrinking on the way over.” Cam stands and stretches, rolling his neck. “Ugh. Little stiff,” he mutters.

Luther tries to get his racing heart back under control. He’s a little shorter than usual, and having Cam loom over him like this… it’s not doing him any favors in the height department. But he manages to keep a handle on himself as they walk out to the parking lot. Cam’s quiet for a bit, but once the car starts up, the questions begin.

“So, what’d the doctor say?” Cam asks, glancing over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot. A little ball of panic starts to form in Luther’s gut. Oh, nothing much, just that I’m going to shrink every time I’m awkward around my crush. Which is you, by the way.

“Uh, it’s… an autoimmune disorder,” Luther mumbles. “Rare one. They don’t know a lot about it yet.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Cam says. Luckily his eyes are on the road, so he doesn’t notice Luther losing an inch. “What’s it called?”

“G - “ Luther starts, then catches himself. What if Cam looks it up later and figures it out? He shrinks a little bit more and swallows, trying to clear his throat. “I… the name was… it was very long and I didn’t really, uh, catch it.”

Cam chuckles quietly. The sound reverberates around the inside of Luther’s skull. It’s so musical and sweet. He clutches the seatbelt and shrinks some more.

“Yeah, some of them have weird names. What kinda treatment are you lookin’ at?”

“Uh… this was just like, a consultation, to identify it? So we’re gonna do treatment next time.” Luther doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. Cam glances sideways at him and his heart skips a beat.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Cam says, looking the other way as he makes a turn. “It’s medical stuff, it’s personal. I’m sorry for prying.”

“No, no, it’s not that! It’s… just a lot to take in, and I’m still - there’s a couple things it could be actually and they don’t know for sure so they took blood samples, and there’s tests that are gonna come back later, and um, uh…” Luther trails off. He’s shrunk so much now that the seat belt presses uncomfortably across his chest and neck, and the tension on it makes it difficult to adjust. He’d been staring out the windshield as he rambled, but now he’s too short to see much more than the sky. He feels Cam pull the car over and turn off the engine. Luther slowly turns to his left and looks up at Cam, who stares down at him in turn. Luther, maybe two feet high now, offers a shaky smile.

“There’s, um. No cure. Or treatment,” he says in a soft, wavering voice. “I just… live like this now.”

Cam tilts his head to one side like he’s trying to decide on something. He shifts in his seat, turns his body a little to face Luther, and props up one arm on the headrest. Then he sighs.

“You’re too short to sit in the front now,” he says. He glances to the backseat. Luther follows his gaze and stares in horror at the car seat sitting neatly behind the driver’s side.

“Oh, no,” Luther whispers. He raises his voice as Cam shifts again and undoes his seat belt. “No, no, no, no, I am not going in that! Cam!” But it’s too late. Cam opens the car door and gets out, then shuts it behind him. Luther slams down on the release button for his own seat belt with both hands, keeping his eyes on Cam through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. The belt retracts with such force that it knocks him sideways, and it takes him a moment to right himself and get his bearings again. Before he can try to run or hide, the door opens, and Cam reaches in for him.

“No, please, come on,” Luther pleads. He backs up as far as he can, but Cam easily gets his hand around Luther’s middle and lifts him up. “I’m an adult, a full grown man, I can’t go in a baby seat! Please, Cam, don’t put me in that thing, why do you even have it? It’s so humiliating, you can’t do this!”

“Number one,” Cam says, opening the back door. “I can put you in it, I have plenty of practice wrangling my niece in there.” He sets Luther down and gets to work on the straps, easily subduing Luther’s halfhearted attempts to squirm free. “Number two, this is about traffic laws. If I’m driving around with someone under four feet in my front seat, I’m gonna get pulled over, and if you wanna explain to the officer that you’re a full grown adult and pay the ticket, be my guest. And number three,” he says, clicking the last buckle into place, “this is about your safety. We get in an accident, that seat belt up front is gonna do you more harm than good.” He straightens up again and shuts the door. Luther puts his head in his hands, trying not to break down in tears. That would only make it worse. The words ‘this is about your safety’ echo around his head in his father’s voice. He hears the driver’s side door open and close, hears Cam settle himself in, and manages to speak up.

“Just… please don’t laugh. Or take pictures, or anything.” He risks a glance between his fingers. Cam is looking at him in the rearview mirror, no amusement or pity visible in his eyes.

“I won’t.” The sincerity in his voice takes Luther by surprise. “This isn’t funny. This is really serious, and I’m sorry I had to do that.” He turns the key in the ignition and pulls the car back onto the road. “We’re nearly home. You won’t have to be there for long.”

Luther stares miserably out the window at the sky above. True to Cam’s word, it’s only another ten minutes before they’re pulling into the apartment complex’s lot. As soon as the car’s turned off, Luther starts pulling at the straps, trying to figure out how to get himself free. Cam comes around to his side again and opens the door.

“I got it, I got it,” Luther assures him. “It’s just this one, right? No… wait, this one? Or is it… um…”

“Let me,” Cam says softly. He reaches in and has the whole contraption undone in an instant. Then, to Luther’s surprise, Cam scoops him up and holds him against his chest like he’s a toddler. Luther’s arms hang over Cam’s shoulder as he blinks in shock. Cam whistles as he approaches the door to their building, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He opens the door one-handed and starts the climb up the stairs to their floor. Luther should say something, this is horribly demeaning, but… it’s also undeniably very nice. He feels supported and safe, and he’s so close to Cam but the usual stab of anxiety is totally absent. He could almost drift off like this.

Cam reaches his door and unlocks it, then stops suddenly and looks at Luther.

“Oh! Shit! I’m so sorry, it was kind of like muscle memory, I guess? God, I’m sorry.” He lowers Luther to the floor and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s… that’s okay. The stairs would’ve sucked to climb right now anyway.” Luther should leave, Cam’s still got the door open for him, but… “Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just until I get a little bigger? Um, I can’t really reach my door handle right now, so…”

Cam smiles, and that familiar pang of anxiety flutters up inside Luther again. “Yeah, you can hang out here. You’re always welcome.” He turns and trudges towards the kitchen, his footsteps shaking the floor as he passes Luther. “It’s pot roast tonight, anyway. Even if you get your height back in the next five minutes, I’d insist you stay for dinner.”

Luther thinks about the doctor’s advice. Confess your feelings, and all of this gets easier. But when he goes to open his mouth, he loses another three inches all in one go. Luther digs his nails into his palms and sets his jaw. Not just yet, then. But soon. Eventually.

One of these days.

#writing #cam and luther #no idea what 2 call this one im workin on it #g/t #giant tiny #i was really like 'what's the dumbest thing i could call it. oh i know. gulliver's hanahaki.'#anyway this was 100% just bc i wanted to write the car seat bit and needed justification for it #gulliver's hanahaki

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

---------------------------------------

rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

#foster au #resident evil au #resident evil fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #dimitrescu daughters #a little unconventional

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shushiyuii · 3 years

Note

tiny avian tommy getting put in a specific time out for being a little gremlin by a giant sbi member of your choice bonus if its his first time so he doesn't know its safe

Ooop-

Warnings: Self esteem struggles and Soft vore

Words: 1.6K+

Aren't I good enough?!

One way to describe Tommy Danger Kraken Innit Minecraft? Ultimately awesome! Not only was he siblings with the famous and righteous Technoblade! A warrior, no a God! Who tore down his enemies so easily nobody stood a chance! Then there was the musician of the seas.

Wilbur Soot Minecraft, his older brother, and talented musician, known all throughout the world for his talented music, just a simple word he utters makes you fall under his spell like a siren.

And his father, the legend, Philza Minecraft himself, God was he awesome. He was known throughout as the angel of death, everyone cowers before him as the lover of death, but also with his accomplishments of defeating the Enderdragon.

To say his family was a big deal was really the honest truth, but what was to be said of Tommy? That he was an asshole gremlin child? The probably weakest hybrid around? Or the fact he couldn’t eat meat due to the fact that he was in fact part hummingbird?

Which made usually eat flowers like his friend Tubbo? It wasn’t his fault he was born this way! Eventually, he’d be just as terrifying, legendary and talented as everyone else! They just had to watch!

That was what he thought as he was in a field, tending to nearby flowers and snacking on some on occasion. He thought to himself, “What do I have?”. He didn’t see himself particularly talented at anything besides his weird sense of humour and being able to mend clothes, it made him think a lot about what was to come of himself.

“Tommy!”. His friends called him from across the field, he could see the bee hybrid Tubbo flying towards him, at least Tubbo could fly, Tubbo couldn’t even fly himself. “You okay, Big man?” Tommy snapped out of his thoughts, whatever sorrowful expression on his face faded in an instant as he yelled excitingly, “Course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?!”.

“For a moment there you lo-“, “Tommy Danger Kraken Innit Minecraft has never felt or looked like such a thing known as sadness! Only women! Disks! And you Big man!”.

“What about me?”. Ranboo said amusingly as he teleported over to the two, “With some exceptions…” Tommy muttered, quietly showing his affection towards Ranboo before switching it up, “I don’t give two-shits about you Ranboo!”. To which made Tubbo and Ranboo laugh.

The two walked through the field of flowers for a while until sitting down on the flowers to allow Tubbo to snack on them. The three of them conversed until Tommy slowly stopped to respond so much or adding more to the conversation.

He began to go deep into thought again, wandering about his strengths that were easily outweighed by the negatives, The two laughed but stopped when Tommy asked, “Hey guys, what am I good at?...”.

Tubbo looked over to Ranboo a bit confused by the question but answered, “You’re uhm… Funny!”. “And you’re great at insulting people?”. But that ultimately failed, “I mean seriously.”. And the two didn’t answer, seeming to think of an answer when Tommy took it as nothing to say.

“Don’t worry about it then”. As he stood off and walked to a nearby edge, the two stood and ran over to Tommy to try and stop him from jumping off, telling him to “Wait!” but it was too late, he was already gone.

He opened his wings into a gliding position as he couldn’t fly and gliding slowly towards the forest below. He thought about what his family would say but probably would just get laughed at.

He landed with a thump as he abruptly ended his flight, walking to the nearby pond and sat down. Then proceeded to throw stones into the said pond until dawn as he made his way home.

As he entered the house, he was greeted by his family, but he ignored them in favour of going up to his room, all attempts at conversation as they approached his room asking for either assistance or whatever was the matter with the gremlin but to get no response.

The next day everybody was meeting up in the said flower field, he was in previously. But this time Tommy seemed a lot more obnoxious than usual, any attempts at getting his guard down would only be met with more of his uptight yelling and boasts about himself.

For some reason, nobody could get through to Tommy as he ran around annoying everybody, so in order to find a solution he approached his brother’s best friend, to find Tubbo looking just as confused, “Hey Tubs”. Tubbo snapped out of whatever thoughts of losing his sanity were happening and smiled at Wilbur, “Hey Wil!”. “Do you know what's happening with Toms?”.

The two looked over to Tommy to confirm both their thoughts to see a screaming gremlin in Technoblades arms, being held back from attacking Ranboo for whatever reason Ranboo did to somehow anger him.

“I’m not really sure, he seemed upset about something yesterday.”, “Did he tell you anything in particular?”. “Uhm, I mean- He did ask if he was good at anything, like a serious question and me and Ranboo was thinking about it, then he ran off!”.

Wilbur thought about it for a moment, but before he could come to a conclusion all hell broke loose as Tommy was inevitably causing more chaos than needed, yelling profanities at the top of his lungs for no reason in particular.

“Right”. Philza raised his voice at the boy. “What is going on with you?!”. Tommy looked at him perplexed for a moment until letting his guard down for a moment, looking down guiltily and Phil looked at him in concern until he yelled out.

“Absolutely fine Philza Minecraft the legend! Amazing at everything he does!”. There seemed to be something in particular about that statement, something oddly specific. Despite him often praising his father for whatever he does it was never as specific as that. Just small praises.

But before they could continue more, Tommy had run off the ledge again into obscurity. Nobody really knowing where the avian was going to go, but somebody did know, Wilbur knew. It was a spot he took Tommy to when he was younger and would always go there when upset.

So, Wilbur ran off to find him.

Wilbur took a different route, one that allowed him to hide under the surface of the water, you see Wilbur’s words were actually able to send you under a spell since he was actually a siren. A size-shifting siren to be specific.

He transformed when he touched the waters surface, his legs turning into a beautiful scaly tail and his hands turning claws, his eyes becoming more fishlike as they looked more dilated and fish-like. He swam forwards until he found the avian sitting under a tree, looking miserable.

An old trick should do the trick, when Wilbur and the family would take Tommy on adventures, especially when he was younger, in cases of danger he’d be sent to one of their storage stomachs for protection, but that wasn’t the only thing it was used for, if he was being particularly annoying or wanted comfort, he could also be sent there, as a form of comfort.

He quickly swam upwards, quickly breaching the surface and growing gigantic. Tommy screamed as he was scooped but although quickly, was also careful as he threw Tommy into his mouth and quickly swallowed, sending him to his brood pouch.

When Tommy landed safely within, he could feel the boy kick and punch as he yelled “Unhand me you- you prick!” Wilbur couldn’t help but burst into laughter at this.

“Wil? What the fuck man! You scared me!”. Wilbur hummed in response, still giggly about the situation. “Well, sorry gremlin but you’ve been on everyone’s nerves today!”. Then he went silent much to Wilbur’s confusion, “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day?”.

There was another moment of silence when Tommy asked, “Wil, am I good enough?”. Which caught Wilbur completely off guard, why would Tommy even think such a thing, he laid a hand over his stomach and rubbed circles soothingly. Completely confused.

“I- Toms, of course, you’re good enough! Why wouldn’t you think so?!”. He yelled somewhat concerned and confused at the fact his brother was thinking such things. “I- I’m not good at anything like all of you..”.

“What are you on about Toms?! Of course, you’re good at-“ He was cut off when Tommy yelled, “I mean like talented! You can sing! Techno can fight! Dad- Dad is Dad! He can do so many things! He’s-“.

The stomach walls pressed in on him, cutting him off. “Tommy, you listen to me now. You may not think much as such, but I think you’re a natural-born leader, you’re able to sway so many and command accordingly when so many people need it, remember that time you stopped everyone from fighting? You did all that by yourself!”.

“You may not be as strong as Technoblade but you’re smart and crafty and can hold your own just as well, you’ve impressed Techno so many times with what you’ve achieved. All of us couldn’t be more proud of you as a brother! We all care about you.”.

He could hear soft sobs, and he continued to rub circles, hushing the boy as well. Soon after, they were found by Phil and Techno who joined in the efforts of comforting the boy shortly. And all laid there for the night, keeping Tommy safe like they used to.

Maybe his family did have the answers after all.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #giant!wilbur #giant!phil #giant!techno #tiny!tubbo #tiny!ranboo #tiny!tommy #tw vore #shushi's writings

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kozumebunny · 3 years

Text

Seijoh + Shiratorizawa + Maid Dress

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uhh flirting that has some implications? mostly gn reader

has: oikawa Tooru, iwaizumi Hajime, matsukawa issei, hanamaki takahiro, kyotani kentaro, ushijima wakatoshi, tendou satori, semi eita, goshiki tsutomu

Oikawa Tooru

>he's wearing the maid dress because a) he lost a bet with Seijoh 4, b) you asked him to wear it or d)he wants to tease you for having a maid kink

>there's no other possible reason he's wearing it

>he'd bake milk bread with you and he's such a flirt omfg

>"are you having trouble kneading the dough, my mistress? let me put my hands over yours and show you how it's done"

>ok bitch

>he doesn't really clean

>believes he is above cleaning

>thinks he should just be eye candy and not do any actual work

>kind of the worst maid for that reason

>idk why he thought bragging to Hanamki and Matsukawa about wearing a maid dress was a good idea but he did

>now everyone knows

>Hanamaki got real oh you haven't heard energy

>so yeah now his fan club wants him to wear the maid dress for them

Iwaizumi Hajime

>no he won't wear it for you

>it's heartbreaking

>even when he loses a bet he says the only way they can get him in it is if they forcefully do it

>they tried and failed

>mildly upset about him not wearing the maid dress

>but it's okay because he later on tells you "I don't need to wear a stupid maid dress to take care of you. Besides, I thought you liked my muscle tank tops."

>ok mr. heartthrob you right about that

>(don't admit to him he will hold it over your head and wear muscle tops to fish for compliments from you. don't give him the power)

Matsukawa Issei

>you just come to his house one day and he's like "what's up" as if he isn't even wearing a maid dress that hangs loosely on him?? clearly one or two sizes too big

>"amazon said to size up. amazons a fucking liar"

>will not do anything you ask of him

>won't call you mistress or master or anything like that that puts you in the position of power

>He'll make food for the both of you and do his cleaning chores and that's it

>just sits on the couch watching tv with you in the maid dress.

Hanamaki Takahiro

>he'll wear it but if anyone asks him about it directly he denies it

>doesn't care if you tell everyone. he still denies it

>he can't cook but he can clean

>will do what you tell him to, but there is a limit to how much he'll do for you so don't push it

>is also probably wearing a maid outfit that isn't like. meant to be a maid outfit

>it's a sex shop type maid outfit lmfao

>"what maid outfit was I supposed to get?" pls he's so clueless on this shit

Kyotani Kentaro

>the only person who can convince him to wear one is Iwaizumi

>you're not getting him in the maid dress otherwise

>f in the chat

>I really need to stop saying that

>I think he might go for a lacy or more delicate looking one. Not because he feels like he's good looking in it, but he associates maids overall as very like. prim and proper delicate things. like pink floral porcelain things

>can't cook. if you ask him to clean he will immediately stop doing it. he's a stubborn dick

>will just straight up leave your house if you push him to do stuff for you too much

>won't ever admit to wearing it. iwaizumi won't tell anyone that Kyotani wore one either

Ushijima Wakatoshi

>this reeks tendou mischief

>he had a hand in it

>semi could not stop him

>either tendou knows that you like boys in maid dresses or he thinks Ushijima in a maid dress would be the perfect thing for you

>Tendou may or may not have such a hard time finding a dress size for Ushijima

>dude is 6 foot and built y'all idk how he would even find one

>power of god and anime on his side I suppose

>he also wears one that is really basic

>black and white with an apron

>"an apron is good so I can stay clean while doing my chores."

>"Waka-chan we want to go for looks and beauty with maid outfits not practicality"

>wears the maid dress for you but he's still a little clueless

>he doesn't get that he should be calling you master or mistress so you have to explicitly tell him. treats it as a more boss/worker relationship than maid/master relationship

>like yes he understands do as he's told, do what you ask, be efficient about it, all around take care of you

>proud of the fact that he can take care of you

>he will give you healthy snacks and cook a healthy dinner

>won't give you candy

>"it's not good to eat so much candy so let's eat healthier snacks"

>you have to give in cause he's such a sweetheart

>wants you to watch him cook cause he does all sorts of fancy tricks to impress you

>may or may not have learned said tricks from Tendou

Semi Eita

>oh good god he will only wear it for you in private and deny it if ever asked

>no photos or videos allowed!!

>he's so blushy and nervous in it it's not something to laugh about

>put the cat ears and tail on him. you know you want to

>but he will wear it for you

>wears it cause you express interest in it

>blushing when he calls you mistress/master

>very sweet

>cuts fruit for you and even hand feeds it to you

>a sweetheart

>calls you sweet pet names in between like "of course, my puppy"

>will do what you ask of him so don't take advantage of him!!

>his love language is acts of service so really, him wearing a maid dress is just. him in a maid dress going out his normal routine with you

>10/10 would date him in a heart beat

>ASKING HIM TO PLAY GUITAR FOR YOU??? PLEASE DO IT?? SINGS ALL SORTS OF LOVE SONGS FOR YOU OR LULLABYS OR DISNEY SONGS

>DONT TOUCH ME IM SOFT LIKE JELLO

Tendou Satori

>wears it for you of his own volition

>if he even has a sneaking suspicion you're into it bam he's already on a cosplay website

>probably cosplaying an anime character

>like he's wearing ram or rem's maid dress (from re:zero)

>can't cook. don't trust him with it. he will accidentally kill you

>can clean but does it super fast so he can spend more time with you

>so not really a good job

>calls you all the master/mistress/pet names he can

>oh he's soaking this shit up

>he's expecting you to wear the maid dress in return for him

Goshiki Tsutomu

>I feel like he would have a very traditional approach with the maid dress

>might wear one that's like a kimono or yukata base style?

>will only wear it if you explicitly ask him to

>Tendou probably riles him up into it

>"but what if she wants you to Goshiki? Don't you want to be the best boyfriend possible?"

>will bow when you come to his home

>always yes thank you with a sir/maam at the end

>Does his best

>when he cuts fruit for you he even cuts them out into little shapes

>its honestly so sweet

>Will even give you a massage

>brushes your teeth, dresses you in the morning

>very proud of himself because he knows he can take care of you for a fact now

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