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griffonsgrove · 3 months

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Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday.

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s.

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked.

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelxreader #xreader #gender neutral reader #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin x reader #headcanons #dating headcanons #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin

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simpforboys · 1 year

Text

daddy’s money

rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: rafe overhears someone being rude to you at your job. it doesn’t end well for either of you, but rafe tries to make up for it.

warnings: arguing, violence (a punch is thrown), protective!rafe, sugar daddy!rafe (?!??), fluff, reader can speak spanish (but race or anything isn't described), not proof read

these are based on my personal experiences (love working retail), just minus the punching

the ring of the bell made your ears perk up as you folded clothes.

you began working at amor, a popular clothing shop for kooks of all ages about a year ago. why they hired you, a pogue, was beyond you, but nonetheless you appreciated it.

especially since your manager, kat, loved you, as she came from rags and rising to riches.

you loved your job, being able to wear casual dresses and clothes, as half the store was beachy clothes and the other half was fancier.

“is that y/n l/n?”

you turned your head to see rafe cameron, kook prince. you hadn’t seen him in awhile, his hair now buzzed as he walked with the same prideful look.

you grinned, putting the shirt you were folding onto the table before hugging the tall man.

you and rafe had a thing, as one day he came into the shop you two immediately hit it off.

“did you find everything okay?” you asked, trying not to stare at the attractive man in front of you.

you scanned the shorts and polo shirts he was buying, noticing him smiling down at you. his hair was pushed back with a baseball cap on his head.

“i did now,” he said slyly.

“oh yeah?” you grinned, taking the security tags off the clothes. a heat rose to your cheeks as you bagged his items.

“didn’t realize they had pretty girls working here, y/n.” the man read your name tag.

“i wouldn't say that..." you trailed off, not knowing the man's name.

"rafe, rafe cameron." a cameron, huh? it had shocked you, really. the camerons were all over the news and basically ran figure eight.

"your total is going to be $259.73." you couldn't help but peek as he pulled out his wallet, his gold card practically dissing you as he put it in the pinpad.

you handed him his receipt, feeling electricity as you two accidentally brushed hands. he smiled down at you, grabbing his bag.

"i'll see you around, y/n."

"have a good day, rafe."

you watched as he exited the building, but quickly turned around after he paused. you furrowed your brows as he walked back up to the register.

"can i take you out?"

the rest of the story turned around, but you still kept in touch with rafe until he was on the ship with his father. he never texted or called you back after that.

"thanks for answering me." you said sarcastically, trying to hide your beaming smile. even though you hadn't heard from him, you still missed talking and being around him.

"sorry, mama. things got tough."

rafe's eyes wandered your body. from the way your hair was styled, your shorts that displayed your pretty legs, cropped tank top that showed some cleavage with a hawaiian shirt over it to make it seem a bit more modest, although failing to do so.

"i bet, being a cameron isn't so easy, huh?" you teased, continuing to fold the shirts you had previously ditched.

rafe didn't get to respond before kat came over, cutting off your conversation. "y/n, hay un cliente (there is a customer)."

kat was a very strong person. her family had come from mexico in search of a new life, and kat had quickly picked up the pace as she was able to open up amor. the store allowed her family to move from the cut to figure eight. she was around 5'6, brown hair that looked black in some lighting, with a mole next to her top lip that just added to herself, in a weird way.

"lo veo (i see him)." working at amor, you quickly picked up on spanish (unless you already speak it). kat eyed rafe, before nodding at him and heading back to the fitting room.

"did you find everything okay?" you questioned the man. he was around 40, dressed in a collared shirt with jeans to match. he had a rolex on his wrist, displaying his wealth.

rafe had moved to look at some of the mannequins, staying close by.

the man didn't respond, scrolling on his phone. you pursed your lips together, biting back your tongue as you continued to scan his items. his body language seemed defensive as he stood away from you.

"i like your-"

unfortunately, working customer service you had some rude customers from time to time, especially being a pogue in kook territory.

"just zip it pogue and bag my clothes. and don't try anything suspicious, either."

you were taken aback by his comment.

"don't talk to her like that." rafe had appeared next to the register, his nostrils flaring as his normal blue eyes turned dark. his pupils were blown wide as he stared at the man like he was going to kill him.

"and who are you?" the man scoffed.

"she's just doing her job, dickhead."

"if she was just doing her job, she wouldn't be tryna talk to me. now, who are you? do you even work here?" the man eyed rafe angrily, trying to appear more dominate but ultimately failed. rafe was taller and seemed to be much stronger.

"rafe-" you tried.

"rafe cameron, is that right?" the man suddenly smirked, sizing rafe up.

"i should've known. all camerons are dicks, especially your father."

you saw how rafe clenched his fist, the veins in his hand looking like they were on the verge of exploding.

"but i never expected a cameron to be protecting a pogue, or less a whore."

you gasped as rafe's knuckles made contact with the man's cheek, a cracking sound that could be heard around the store.

"rafe!" you shouted as he shook his hand, trying to not beat the man to unconsciousness.

rafe saw red as he grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him out of the store. "never fucking come back, got that?"

the man, now with a bruised cheek that appeared to have a broken bone, quickly walked off. rafe spit on the floor, walking back into the store.

kat had come running over, the noise causing her to be alerted.

"y/n, what the hell was that?" she asked, her voice thick with an accent as she was fuming.

"he was being-"

"we have a no violence policy. i told you to stay away from that cabrón (asshole)." kat swore.

"kat-" the woman wasn't letting you finish.

"you know i love you, kid. but that was unacceptable."

your lip trembled as your heart sank. you knew what her next words were going to be.

"you're fired, and i want rafe out of the store permanently."

rafe watched the scene, opening his mouth to speak but quickly stopped himself. a tear ran down your cheek as you wiped it away.

"who needs this stupid job away," you mumbled. you grabbed rafe's bicep, guiding him out of the store.

once outside, you let go of him and slightly pushed him backwards. rafe stared at you in shock, his knuckles throbbing in pain.

"what was that for?"

"you got me fired, asshole!"

"you just let dickheads speak to you like that?" rafe asked, an appalled tone in his voice as his mouth slightly hung open.

"yes! i need money, i don't care what gross rich men say."

the north carolina heat radiated off of you two, seagulls squawking as they flew above.

"y/n-" he went to grab your hands but you pulled away.

"i don't have daddy's money to support me, rafe. you just cost me my entire income and home."

your words were harsh as you stared directly into his eyes, a flame ignited in you that he lit.

"listen, okay. i can take care of you."

rafe was trying to remain calm, not wanting to scare you away from him if he raised his voice too much.

"oh, yeah? how?"

"c'mon." rafe took you down to where barry was sitting in rafe's car. the man got out as he saw you and rafe approach, the tension thick.

"long time, y/n." barry nodded his head at you, which you pursed your lips in response and watched as rafe popped the trunk.

inside were cases as rafe opened one, shiny gold beaming off the sun to peek at you. your stomach dropped, looking between rafe and barry who had huge smirks on their faces.

"how did you-"

rafe carefully handed you a piece of gold, watching as you inspected it.

"each one is worth at least 20 grand. we're set for life with these, baby."

you let out a surprised laugh, any feel of anger going away from the sight of all the cases filled with your new riches.

"no bullshit, right?"

"100 percent real, honey. rafe melted it down himself."

rafe gave barry a death glare from the nickname he called you.

"how- where- you know what, never mind. i don't care. you guys are fucking loaded."

"we're loaded, y/n." rafe put his arm around you, bringing you into a side hug as you smelt his dior sauvage cologne.

you grinned, feeling rafe press a kiss to your temple as you hugged him tightly. you ran your hand up and down his muscular back as his hand went down to your lower back.

"so.... are you my sugar daddies?" you joked. barry laughed as rafe rolled his eyes.

"c'mon, country club. we got clients to see."

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avatar-anna · 3 months

Text

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

April 2016

“Thank you for meeting me.”

Y/n settled into the seat across from Harry. Her hands curled tightly around her mug, apprehension seeping into her bones. “Of course.”

She had been surprised when Harry called her, asking to meet at the Beachwood Cafe. She hadn’t heard from him in months, not one call or text, not even an email. Not that Y/n really expected much when One Direction finally went on hiatus, but after zero communication, she wasn’t quite sure why he’d called her all these months later.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Harry asked.

Y/n’s eyebrows raised a bit, but she answered him anyway after taking a sip of her coffee. “Fine, I guess. You?”

“Good!” Harry said excitedly. “Taking a break the last few months has been…I don’t know. Peaceful, but odd, you know? I’ve never had so much time to myself before.”

“Must be nice,” Y/n said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

“Yeah, but I realized that I kind of miss it,” he said. “I knew once we decided on the hiatus that I wanted to do my own thing, but I thought I would take a longer break, but I feel like I’m…itching to get back to work.”

That definitely seemed like Harry. Y/n had worked for him for years, and even when there were breaks between tours, he was hard at work—writing, going to Fashion Week, collaborating with other artists, vocal training, even trying new recipes in his state-of-the-art kitchen, which led to a phone call at one in the morning where Harry asked Y/n to come over and see if his macrons tasted "fluffy enough." It seemed only right that he rested for mere months before starting a new project. She could practically picture him at either of his homes in LA or London, scribbling in his leatherbound journal or playing new melodies on his guitar or piano (and the occasional late-night pastry party). As long as she’d known him, Harry had been a hard worker through and through. A little on the wild side when he had some tequila in him, but when it came down to his career, he was focused, determined.

“Good for you,” Y/n said, meaning it. She always thought he was capable of more. “So what comes next for you? Have you recorded songs already?”

“Not quite. I’m planning a trip to Jamaica to write and record there. It’s remote, serene, a good place to get away. So we’ll have to start booking flights and places to stay and—”

“I’m sorry, ‘We?’” Y/n asked, her brow furrowing with confusion.

Harry matched her look of confusion with one of his own. “Yeah, I mean—I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

The sentiment warmed Y/n’s heart for a moment, but his immediate assumption that she would drop everything just because he asked her to brought the irritation swarming back. “Mr. Sty—Harry, you know I don’t work for you anymore, right?”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about the hiatus? I just thought we could all use some time off, but…I guess I just thought—”

Harry didn’t finish his thought, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Y/n would’ve found it cute if he hadn’t been so dense. Resentment still circled around her like a fog, and she wouldn’t let it go so easily, she couldn’t.

“I was employed by your management, Harry. To be an assistant to a member of One Direction,” Y/n explained. “I was let go. I had to quickly find another job doing something else.”

“Oh.”

Y/n supposed she should’ve anticipated being fired, but she didn’t. There was a lot of information that she was privy to that most people weren’t, secrets that were tightly bound by an NDA when she was first hired, but talks of the hiatus was very hushed. She knew to suspect that somewhere down the line the boys would finally take a break, but it came a lot sooner than she was prepared for, and she was left jobless before she had the chance to line something else up. Y/n thought that Harry would give her the courtesy of a warning, but he said nothing about it to her, didn’t offer much except a side hug after One Direction’s last performance.

So yeah, she was a little bitter.

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Y/n. I know it doesn’t make up for…all of this and everything you went through, but I am truly sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Y/n believed him, believed that he was sorry for everything that went down, but it still hurt to know she wasn’t someone he was close enough to talk to about all of this at the time. She was Harry’s assistant, she knew that, but they’d been through a lot together. But he was ever the professional it seemed, and it was her job to remember that, not his.

When she realized her coffee was finished, Y/n stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you, Harry. Good luck on your next project. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Wait, but—you’re not—you‘re leaving?”

“I have to run a couple errands before work," Y/n explained. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But really, no hard feelings. I wish you all the best.”

She left Harry at the table, heading for the front of the cafe and toward the busy street beyond. Her heart felt heavy as she walked away, but she tried to shake the feeling that she was walking away from more than just her boss. Former boss. Like her mother always reminded her, she couldn’t be a personal assistant forever.

“Wait!”

Y/n turned on instinct, eyes widening as Harry jogged after her, his little bun bouncing with each step. He skidded to a stop in front of her, green eyes wide and searching. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the heat of his gaze was enough to make butterflies stir in her stomach.

Putting on her best front, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for Harry to say whatever he needed to.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier. I need you, Y/n,” he said. “I—You’re the only one who really knows me, who I know will have my back no matter what. I need a familiar face in my corner.”

I need you, Y/n. Those words were her kryptonite. Year after year, Y/n heard Harry's voice over the phone as he roused her from sleep, read the text messages while she was getting her nails done or watched TV in her hotel room, or on the rare occasion she went on a date. But she had to hold strong. Y/n had been devastated by her sudden layoff, but now she had a life, and she didn't want to get sucked back into Harry's very alluring web of charming smiles, cheesy jokes, and endless adventure. That was his life, not hers.

“I have a job, Harry. I can’t just drop everything and quit because you suddenly want me to—”

“What are they paying you?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Harry pushed on. “What are they paying you? I’ll double it.”

Scoffing in disbelief, she said, “It’s not about the money—”

“Triple,” he countered. Harry took her hand in his and squeezed it. He looks desperate, Y/n thought.

“I can’t just quit my job because you remembered I existed,” Y/n said quietly, pulling her hand out of his. She clung to her resolve, hoping Harry would make this easy and just let it go, let her go. “I—I deserve more.”

More of what, she wasn’t sure, but Y/n knew it was true. Harry only reached out because he needed something from her, and that hurt more than she cared to admit.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Harry said, looking down at his shoes. A pair of scuffed Chelsea boots he wore practically everywhere. Y/n had bought him a pair of Vans one year, an attempt to switch up his wardrobe, but he still chose the boots nine times out of ten. “Just—At least think about coming to Jamaica. Please?”

“Harry—”

“Not as my assistant. As a guest. A friend,” Harry amended. “We’re planning on staying at a huge villa, and I want to make up for being an idiot. Just—Just think about it. Please.”

Despite everything, Y/n found herself wanting to say yes. It was that magnetic pull she felt toward Harry that had kept her working for him for so long. He was an important person in her life, and up until he’d all but ghosted her after the hiatus, she thought she was important to him too. In spite of his misgivings, Y/n still wanted to believe that she was.

It was so stupid, but it felt good to be wanted by him. She was an idiot, she knew that. But her friendship with Harry was legitimate, he'd just acted like a complete idiot. She'd known him long enough to know he was very capable of acting like an idiot. So even though she shouldn’t, even though she had carefully lined up her reasons not to in a little line, she started to cave.

But she couldn’t make the decision now. Not when Harry was looking at her with pleading green eyes and his sad little puppy dog face, his cologne dizzyingly lovely. No, she owed it to herself to really think about what she wanted. If getting sucked back into that whirlwind was worth it. Worth getting her heart properly broken when she knew he would never feel the same about her.

"I'll show up at work, you know," Harry said. "I'm not above it. You might think I am, but I'm not."

Y/n had no doubt in her mind that he would. Along with being an idiot, Harry was very stubborn, and very persistent. She had years with him to know that. Did she really need Harry Styles showing up at her place of work?

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she finally said, trying to pretend like her heart was screaming to just agree. But her heart was an impulsive little shit that was bound to get her in trouble.

Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that displayed those famous dimples and lit up his entire face. It was hard to feel like he didn't think she was the only person on earth to exist when he looked like that, like he was convinced she’d already said yes. “I’ll take it.”

#harry styles #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Apology won’t cut it

Tim Rockford x f!reader

summary: Tim forgot about your anniversary…how can he make things right?

warnings: SMUT (oral -f!receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia -with estabilished consent, reader and Tim talked about it before-, unprotected p in v, reader “hangs” onto those shoulder holsters while Tim fucks her, creampie,(1) spitting on pussy, praise kink, biting), talks of infidelity, cursing, mentions of food, mentions of reader being pregnant, fluff -it’s me…so :)

word count: 4.3K (how that happened? - i don’t know either)

A/N: Tim is hot and I have things for detectives/agents with shoulder holsters (*cough, cough* Seeley Booth)

You met Tim a few years back through your friend. Normal Sunday brunch turned into you confiding to her – telling her that you worry that your husband might be cheating. The past few months he was spending more and more time in his office – the fact that you saw his new personal assistant a few months back who was much younger and prettier than you didn't help.

Susan, your friend, tried to soothe your worries but when you started being a babbling and a sobbing mess – you've spend most of your life with your husband and the thought of him cheating on you cut your heart deeper than you thought it would – she sighed and withdrawn something from her purse. A small plain business card layed between her neat fingers.

She passed it to you with a few tissues as well and when you finally wiped all of your tears away, you looked at what was written on it – both of your eyebrows raising in a question.

“It's a private investigator. I hired him when I had a suspicion that Richard might be cheating on me as well. Turned out he was just working extra shifts so he could buy me an engagement ring.” She grinned at the memory and you looked at her finger – the diamond ring he bought her shining in the daylight sun. You offered her a little smile – happy for her. Richard was a nice guy – sweet and genuine and you didn't know how she could think he was cheating on her – he kissed the ground she walked on. “But really, he is great, sweetie. A little pricey but he does his job well. It doesn't hurt that he is easy on the eyes too.” She winked while you bit your lip in contemplation.

A few days pass since your Sunday brunch and you think about calling the number numerous times – then telling yourself that you shouldn't doubt your husband's loyalty. Though when he left this morning without even kissing you on the head as he normally would – not even sparing you a little glance, you were more certain than ever – you were going to find out what was going on once and for all. Even if it should break your heart.

When the other voice on the other line says “hello?” you get nervous. You are really doing this.

“Hello, uhm – I, ugh- I’d received your business card from a friend and would like to hire your services. Are you busy or-?” Smooth. Real smooth.

“No, not really,” he chuckles - the cigar he was smoking dangling from his lips, “would you like to meet at yours or at my office?” His voice was a little gruff but very soothing at the same time. You try to imagine what he looks like – didn't sound like a young man, maybe someone close to your age range – not that you were old or something.

You quickly scribbled the address where he worked as you found it more appropriate that you rather meet him at his office than if he should invade your own home.

When you arrive at the address he gave you, you found yourself in front of a small brick building – the doors are pretty mahogany color but creaky and when you enter it looks bigger than on the outside. Various small offices with different names on glass windowed doors surround you and you look for his business card in your purse – forgetting his name.

Tim Rockford – it says on the card and you squint your eyes when you see doors with the same name on it far back. You stride with confident steps towards it even when you are not feeling that way at all. You knock – one time, two times and the third time a small gruff “come in” can be heard from the other side of the door.

When you step in the first thing that hits you is the cigar smoke and you cough a little – you hate smoking. Then you finally see the man in question. He looks a little older - the bags under his eyes make him seem that. He quickly stands up from his leather chair that creaks and offers you a small smile which you uncertainly return. He is handsome in a ruggish way. His hair is short and has a few silver strands mixed in there as well, and his beard is patchy – that is something very endearing about the fact. His shoulders are broad and you think he should buy a bigger shirt as this one is straining against his frame – not that you mind that much.

He quickly puts out the cigar when he sees your nose wrinkling at the smell – observant as well. Not bad. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it – his grip is strong but not in an unpleasant way and his palms are a little sweaty. He clears his throat and offers you his name which you do the same in return. He sits down and gestures to the older-looking armchair sitting opposite him. It's comfier than it looks.

“So, what brings you here, m’am?” You scrunch your nose for a second – not feeling that old but don't say a thing about it. Right, let's cut right to the chase.

“I-I think my husband might be cheating on me and I'd like for you to find out if that's true.” He doesn't look at you weirdly or anything – as you thought he would. He just nods his head and asks your husband's name which you provide.

“That's all I really need. I will find out all of the other information myself and will call you if I will find some clues. Sounds good to you, m’am?” You nod and give him your phone number – the phone you called him from being the house landline.

A few weeks pass, Tim calls you often or you go to his office – recently you started inviting him to your house as you started feeling more comfortable around him – all of the clues hint that your husband is really cheating on you and he tries to make you feel better about it – cracking jokes here and there and you appreciate it even though it doesn't seem all that professional.

Today he brings a folder with him. The yellow one you often see in some kind of crime film that holds photos of the victim – and when he enters he throws you a sad smile. You know what it means but you try to not think about it. You offer him tea and he hastily accepts – he knows that you already know. In the past few weeks, he got to know you and he noticed that you try to occupy yourself with other things when you are nervous.

He sits on your leather couch – you bought it last week – and he watches you make the tea in your smaller kitchen. When you sit down next to him you put the cups of tea on the glass table. He passes you the folder and when you open it a few tears flow freely from your eyes. You were expecting it. You really were but it still hurts. You feel sick as you throw the folder next to the cups – not really in the mood to look at the pictures of your husband sticking his tongue into someone else's throat. Tim lands his hand on your shoulder – trying to comfort you. That's when you throw yourself at him, hugging him close to you and he doesn't reciprocate the hug for a while – it's not professional at all and he shouldn't but when you sob into his work shirt his heart breaks and pulls you closer to him. Slowly stroking your back and kissing the top of your head gently.

You stay like that for a while – him rocking you while stroking your back and telling you “what an idiot your husband is for treating you so poorly” as you try to compose yourself. And when you do- you pull away a little – looking into his eyes, maping out his face with your eyes. He's handsome – you noticed the first time you've seen him but after each time you've spent together you started appreciating his ruggish handsomeness more and more. You'd never admit it but you've touched yourself at the thought of him a few times – feeling guilty afterward not knowing if your husband was cheating on you. You felt like you were the one cheating after every time you got yourself off at the thought of Tim between your thighs.

“Kiss me.” You whisper as you look at him and he shakes his head – feeling like he would take advantage if he did.

“No, you're in a bad mental state right now and you don't know what you are saying, sweetie.” The nickname of endearment falling from his lips is first and you shake your head in protest – pulling yourself on top of his lap and he doesn't have the strength to stop you as this is something he wanted for a long time too – you were not only a client to him. Not for a long time, anyways. You were smart and funny, and beautiful and he liked you a lot. Even if he really shouldn't feel this way.

“I wanted this for a long time, Tim. Please, just kiss me, will you?” You don't have to tell him thrice, he surges forward to meet your wanting lips and grabs your hips and you start grinding down on him. You moan when you feel him harden under you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours – it's frantic and passionate and you feel him everywhere at once. His hands are pulling your tank top off and he cups your tits when they come into the view – pulling away from the kiss. He starts kissing your cleavage, his hands trying to quickly unclasps the bra if that piece of clothing offended him and you on the other hand try to unbutton his shirt. Getting impatient you huff and he notices – he always does with everything. He slows the pace down and unbuttons the shirt himself while getting distracted multiple times – you're kissing his neck and he moans when he feels you nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear.

When the shirt is finally off you immediately start paying attention to the newfound flesh – kissing and licking a path across his shoulders that you oh, love some much and dragging your tongue lower – circling his nipple with it. He groans and throws his head back – the vein on his neck popping with the movement and you bite him there, soothing it with your tongue. He grinds against your mound and if you keep going he will for sure cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. He pushes against your shoulders softly and you start to protest but he shuts you up with his mouth once again. It's slower and more sensual – his tongue fighting with yours lazily and unhurriedly. He finally unclasps your bra – his greedy eyes taking you in. Palming them in his hands it's your turn to moan and he grins – his thumbs stroking the sensitive nipples. He brings his head to take one into his mouth and you can't do anything else than writhe on him – your hands are in his hair and you massage his scalp. He groans against your bud while the other hand strokes your other tit and you feel like you've gone to heaven and back. You didn't feel this good since – well actually never.

When he is happy with his work – the bitemarks on your tits will leave nasty bruises for a few days for sure – he slowly puts you on the leather couch. You are sweaty and it sticks to your skin but you don't care – not when Tim is trying to get rid of your shorts. You don't wear anything underneath and you swear you can see his eyes goes entirely black – his pupils blown wide and his breathing quick. He lowers himself onto his tummy and you are confused for a second before you realize what he is doing. You try to protest that he doesn't have to but he just “shhh” you. His mouth is on your inner thighs in no time and his beard causes a delicious burn on them. He is slow with it – trying to enjoy every second of it but you are impatient. You tug on his hair and growl – slapping one side of your inner thigh mumbling a quiet “impatient girl” before he licks into you without a warning.

You cry out – your head thrown back and your back arched, the hands that are in his hair grip him tighter and he moans into your cunt with an unspoken agreement for you to keep doing that. Not many men went down on you – certainly not your husband – but Tim looks like he is enjoying this more than you if it is possible. His nose bumps into your clit with every lick – you feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. One of his hands makes its way to your open mouth and he sticks two fingers into it – coating them in your saliva. Pulling them back out he creates a path with them from your mouth to your neck, then under your neck, on your tits, down your tummy and then pressing two of them against your pussy – exchanging his tongue with his fingers while he sucks your clit into his mouth and it doesn't take long before you are cuming, after all, it has been too long since anyone made it seem like their life goal was to make you cum – the moans and cries of his name echoe throughout the living room with the wet sounds of your pussy squeezing his fingers while he fucks you through the aftershocks of it all.

When he finally stops – you have to push his mouth away from you feeling overstimulated – he just grins against you and sits up – balancing himself on his heels while he cleans his fingers humming at your tangy taste on them. You are exhausted and your lashes flutter against your cheeks but you can hear the clang of his belt and his words echoing in your ears: “ We're not done in the slightest, baby.”

You try to wait for him. You do. But your eyes feel heavy – you already ate the dinner you made for the two of you – Tims's favorite meal – lasagna. You put the rest of it along with the portion into the fridge – scribbling a quick note that if he feels hungry the leftovers are in the fridge. You look at the time: 23:03. And that's when your phone dings.

Hi, baby. Don't wait for me, I am still at the office working on that crazy grandma case . Love you, xoxo

You sigh in defeat. No apology, no nothing. You expected it, to be completely honest. He was so wrapped up in this new case he sometimes forgot what his name was. But you felt that he was married to work and not to you – not that you two were married but you get the drill. You understood it, he worked hard for the position he now has and you too are a workaholic yourself – the money you won at the court after the divorce was put into opening your little bakery. But to forget about your 5-year-old anniversary? That seemed over the top. You don’t bother answering him – putting your phone away you put the dirty dishes in the sink – you will wash them tomorrow morning. Keeping his favorite wine on the table in case he will want it when he comes home, you grab the little envelope.

“Seems like it's just me and you again, little bean.” You smile sadly while you caress your stomach – Tim didn't know yet but you hoped you would tell him tonight. Guess not.

As you make your way into the bedroom you lock the door and turn off all the lights. Brushing your teeth and hoping in the shower for a quick wash you think about if you should have kept the envelope on the table – no, you will tell him tomorrow after you won't be mad at him anymore. After drying yourself you tuck yourself in and put the envelope into the drawer on your bedside table. Sleep consumes you quickly – you've felt exhausted for the past couple of days.

Tim comes home long past after midnight. He's exhausted and he just wants to plop on the bed next to you. He puts the keys onto the kitchen counter and wonders in the kitchen – the kitchen lits up when he puts on the flashlight in his camera – you like to sleep with the bedroom doors open and usually wake up if he turns on the lights. He furrows his brows when he sees the wine on the table – the single rose in a small vase in the center of it. He stalks towards it and sees that it's his favorite. And then he sees the dirty dishes and the small note on the fridge – dread takes over him when he sees the date on the calendar and he lowly curses at himself.

He forgot your fucking anniversary. What a fucking moron he is. He ventures into the bedroom to see if you are already asleep – if not he will apologize profusely even when he knows apology won't cut it this time. When he sees you fast asleep he sighs and slowly creeps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The weight of what had done – or more so what he didn't – creeps on him and he decides that he will cook you breakfast tomorrow and take you out somewhere nice – maybe even finally do the thing he'd been dreading to do for over a half a year now. When he is finished brushing his teeth he returns to the bedroom to put his guns away. You are sleeping peacefully even when he turns on the light on his bedside table.

You look so pretty in the dim light. Your hair is sprawled on your pillow and it's too warm in here for you to be covered – he can see your legs and the curve of your ass. He licks his lips and he is not so tired anymore. An idea pops into his head – you've talked about it before but never really tried it – maybe it would be one of the many steps of his apology.

He rolls up his sleeves and slowly makes his way onto your side of the bed. You are a pretty light sleeper and he thinks if you will wake up right in the start or if he can indulge a little. He kicks the covers that surround you and touches your ankle – the touch is light and gentle. His fingers slowly make their way up your thigh stopping on your hip and you jerk a little - you turn onto your back the flimsy tank top you changed into riding higher. Tim grins, slowly sinking onto the mattress. He kisses one of your knees and then the other. Slowly making his way up – he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly tugs – seeing that you have nothing underneath. He always loved that about you. He caresses your thighs and kisses the inner side of both of them – trying if you will wake up he pokes his tongue out but you just mumble something so he keeps up his advances. Creating a path to your core he softly inhales and opens your folds with his thumbs as kisses your clit – you jerk a little but he hooks his palms under your hips to keep you still. His nose bumps against your clit with the first swipe of his tongue and he groans at your taste that he knows oh, so well. His tongue lazily licks into you and he is in no rush – enjoying the slow pace he slowly grinds his pants-clad hips against the mattress. It's not enough but he doesn't mind. Sneaking one of his hands away from underneath your hips he pushes one of his fingers in – you are soaked even though he barely touched you and he loves the fact that you are always so ready for him. You mewl softly and start to stir but he stops when your breathing gets even again he pushes two fingers inside of you.

The only sounds that can be heard are his harsh takes of breath and the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers in – his mouth is now more relentless and so are his hips as he humps the mattress. His fingers curl and he tries to find the spot that makes you make such a pretty noise for him and when your breath hitches he knows he found it. He kisses your clit and starts setting a quicker phase. The tip of his tongue now flicks against your clit quickly. He can feel you start squeezing him and he moans when he feels your hands tug on his hair – the quiet “Tim” from your lips effortlessly. He mumbles a quick “good morning” even though it's not even 3 am yet.

You are right on the edge and when he adds a third finger it's all over for you. Your back arches and you cry out – his plush lips kiss your clit to work you through it and when he finally stops he pushes his cock out of his pants – stroking his dick with the hand that was in you just a few seconds ago. You are still sleepy and try to get a sense of what is happening but before you can think about it Tim is kissing you and notching the weeping head of his cock against your entrance.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Can I fuck you silly?” You nod and he enters you with one quick swift of his hips – you can feel his balls against your ass and he tries to push even deeper. It's too much for your sleep-tired brain and you need to hold onto something – so you grab his shoulder holsters – they are cold and feel smooth against your palms and when you look up at Tim he snarls. “Yeah, hold onto me, baby.” And then he is pounding into you. The head of him pushes against your g-spot and he angles his hips just right. You can feel every ridge and vein of him and you feel him pulse in you – knowing that he won't last long. He grabs one of your ankles and puts it on his shoulder – you always said to him that shoulders like that were made for leg rest. With this new angle, he feels even deeper and you close your eyes – it feels so fucking good, his pubic hair is scraping against your clit and the gentles with hich he kisses your ankle while mumbling how “good of a girl you are for him” makes your heart ache with love for him.

He can feel you starting to squeeze around him and he bends so he can spit onto your pussy – it makes you cry out when you feel the wet press of his fingers on your clit. His are relentless and the sweat rolling off his forehead is making its way down his neck – his vein on it is popped and you'd like to bite it. The slap of his balls is lewd and the way he says your name – ordering you to be “good girl and cum for me” is making your head dizzy. It just two or so more thrusts before you are clamping down on his length and he moans – grabbing him by the neck you kiss him and start sucking on his neck – right under the himge of his jaw– and then he is cuming too – his forehead pressed up against yours. His hips try to push the cum deep inside of you and when he stops he falls next to your side, bringing you closer to him and caressing your spine.

“You think it worked this time?” You are still hazy from the orgasm, listening to his heartbeat slowing down and you just hum in question so he repeats it for you – you don't think about it too much and reach for your nightstand drawer putting the envelope you hid there into his hands.

He opens it reluctantly and when he sees what's in there he can't contain his smiles and the few happy tears that spring out of his eyes.

“You serious? We're going to have a baby?” He laughs with joy and you caress his cheek – kissing the patch on his beard and then soothing it with your thumb

“Serious as I can be, babe. We're going to be parents.” you grin and he kisses you – smiling into the kiss and he thinks about the box in his suit jacket that has a small and elegant diamond ring in it.

He will propose to you tomorrow, take you out on a picnic or something. Yeah, he will do that.

#pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford smut #tim rockford merge mansion #merge mansion

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stevesbipanic · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 7: Mall

You would think after the last mall burned down the town of Hawkins wouldn't erect another so quickly. But money is money and by December the mayor was happily cutting a big red ribbon in front of Galaxy Mall.

"I'm honestly surprised they didn't call it Starcourt 2," Robin giggled.

"Might as well call it the Titanic, I give it 4 months before I don't know an earthquake rips it to shreds," Steve replied, a smirk on his face.

Despite the trauma Steve and Robin had been forced to find work at the new mall, Family Video had shut down its standalone store in favour of one in the mall. Keith had unfortunately terminated their employment, citing that the new store was smaller and they could either choose one of them to stay or both go.

"You know, we have an awful habit of finding jobs with dumb outfits."

"Hey could be worse, we could have to wear the big red suit and have kids sit on us."

"Yeah, sucks to be that guy, hope they didn't hire a creep though."

Being an elf for Santa's Workshop had its perks , free candy canes, hanging out with Robin, and hot cocoa's every morning.

Santa was sweet with the kids, whoever it was seemed like a nice guy, he never rushed any of the kids, no babies cried for their photos and everyone left smiling.

Honestly, Steve wanted to meet the guy, but he always seemed to have left by the time Steve's changed, and he's already in the chair once Steve arrives.

He's decided to take matters into his own hands, he's a guy that gets what he wants and right now he wants that man, whoever he is.

So, he waited until they closed and jumped onto Santa's lap before he could get up. Santa's face turned a very festive shade of red.

"Now Santa's I've been a veryyyy good boy this year and you haven't even asked me what I want for Christmas."

Santa seemed to compose himself, a spark of mischief in his eyes, "And what is it that you want for Christmas little Stevie?"

"I'd love a kiss from Santa Clause."

Well Steve couldn't say he wasn't direct.

"Meet me out back in ten and I think you can get your present early."

Steve had never changed so fast, he'd told a confused Robin that she had to call her mom to pick her up today and dashed out the back door.

He didn't have to wait long before two strong hands took his face gently and pressed soft lips to his own. Steve melted into the kiss, not even feeling the bite of the early December air.

Eventually they pulled apart for air and Steve blinked open his eyes to find a very nervous looking Eddie Munson staring back at him.

"Eddie?"

"Bad Christmas present? Sorry I don't think they make receipts for kisses."

Steve just smiled, hoping it eased Eddie's nerves, "Can I still make a return?" Steve asked as he took Eddie's face in his hands and pulled him softly forward.

Best Christmas present ever.

Ao3

#meet cute #mall #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddiemas #stobin #robin finally appears in steddiemas

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beom-pyu · 11 months

Text

my wips! ★⋆⁺˚⋆｡ °₊*️

see what's coming soon:

(more under the cut!)

I CAN'T SWIM, IDIOT (choi beomgyu x fem!reader) POSTED.

SYNOPSIS:

your best friend just so happens to enter you both into a married-couple-greece-resort-stay-all-expenses-paid giveaway hosted by some random insurance company he found on twitter. but those things are always scams—there's no way you'd end up having to pretend to be beomgyu's wife for one week in a foreign country. and there's absolutely no way you'd end up seeing your childhood best friend in a different light after your stay. nope—not a chance.

RESET (kang taehyun x fem!reader)

coworkers to lovers, rivals to lovers, fluff, comedy, smut

SYNOPSIS:

working as a game developer has been your dream for years. you fought long and hard to work your way up to the top, and you've finally secured a stable, well-paying position at one of the lead gaming companies in the country. things are going well—until your head hires a new programmer to work alongside you for a new campaign. while you are excited to see fresh faces in the office, a problem quickly arises—you can't seem to get along with your counterpart. his know-it-all attitude rubs you the wrong way from the very beginning, and each day, you find it harder and harder to get anything done when he's over your shoulder, critiquing your every move. you don't know how much longer you can put up with his nagging until you downright lose your mind... and maybe your job as well.

(current word count: 3.24k)

TEASER:

“um, hello! nice to meet you. i’m y/n y/l/n, lead character designer,” you introduce yourself with a small bow, looking up to see taehyun smiling at you with those pretty wide eyes.

“i specialize in character design as well. i guess we’ll be working side by side this year,” taehyun shoots you with a blinding grin. your heart stutters a bit at his unwavering eye contact, nodding with a small smile.

“i guess so. you sure you can keep up, though?” you playfully flirt towards him, a low and quiet ‘ooooo’ coming from soobin and yeonjun on either side of you. taehyun remains unfazed at your comment, shrugging slightly at your words with raised brows.

“i’d like to believe so. i’m looking forward to seeing what you got, y/l/n.”

you smile a bit, your gaze unbreaking with his cat eyes.

“likewise, kang.”

END CREDITS (choi yeonjun x fem!reader)

underground boxer au, exes to lovers, heavy angst, fluff, smut

SYNOPSIS:

yeonjun feels as if he's stuck in a loop. every day is the same, boring, painful drag—work, fight club, dinner for ma, and repeat. he's completely numb to everyone and everything around him. why shouldn't he be? the only person he's staying alive for is his mother—if he were to die today, earth would continue to spin without a second thought. that is, until you pop back up into his life—and now everything he knows is flipped onto its head. you left him because of the way he is... so why are you staying this time?

(current word count: 4.6k)

TEASER:

“i think i’m just gonna head home. ma is probably waiting for me.” yeonjun forces a small, strained smile towards beomgyu, watching as the younger’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“you are so lame,” beomgyu huffs, pushing yeonjun’s shoulder lightly. “dude, just come celebrate with us tonight. i swear i won’t ever ask you again.”

yeonjun shakes his head, shrugging on his gray zip-up before turning back around to walk out of the locker room, beomgyu still hot on his heels. “don’t feel like it, beomgyu. just drop it.”

beomgyu chases after yeonjun as he walks back into the crowded arena, shoving his way through all of the sweaty bodies as another fight starts up.

“you’re the most boring person i’ve ever met,” beomgyu shouts.

“and you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met,” yeonjun shouts back, not even bothering to turn around and face the younger.

to be added:

rockstar!yeonjun x lead singer!reader - exes to lovers

farm boy!taehyun x city girl!reader - strangers to lovers

soon-to-be-married!soobin x wedding planner!reader - exes to lovers

#beom-pyu #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt angst #txt smut #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun imagines #soobin imagines #beomgyu imagines #taehyun imagines #hueningkai imagines

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

Note

Thristy thursaday you say? How about possesive Peter who sometimes just get’s worked up by his own imagination and has to fuck you to remind both himself and you that you are his?

Why does this scream Mob!Peter, let's write some Mob!Peter bc he gives me brainrot 18+, also we got some Daddy and breeding kink here. Don't like that? Don't read it.

You hated these dinner parties.

Peter knew that.

He always tried to make them tolerable for you by buying what dress or jewelry you wanted, as well as never staying longer than needed.

You knew it was important that the two of you were here. It was part of maintaining control, an image, a reputation.

You just couldn't listen to Betty Brandt rant about her neighbor's lawn anymore.

"I'll be right back, just need to refresh my drink," you said with no intention of returning. She'd find someone to ramble to soon enough.

After refilling your wine glass, you leaned against the wall, taking in the party. In the corner, you could see your husband talking to several 'colleagues'. You could tell the conservation had to do with business, given Peter's harden expression.

"Nice party, right?" A voice interrupted your gazing of Peter.

You turned to see a young man standing next to you, wine glass in hand. He looked vaguely familar- most likely a new hire.

"Yeah, it's pretty nice," You said dryly, turning your attention back to Peter, who was still talking to his men.

"You know, I'm amazed at how they're always having to talk business. Even when it's after hours." Did this kid not know who you were?

"Some things can't wait. Tends to happen a lot with this line of work," You continued to sip your wine, your eyes zoned in on Peter.

"I just think it's impolite. It's best to live in the now, take it all in. " The man reminded you of those guys who took one philosophy class and declared themselves to be the next Aristole.

You turned to face him, keeping your wine glass close to your face (which conveniently was being held by your left hand).

"I just also think it's much more enjoyable to talk to new people....beautiful people." You began to clink your ring finger against the glass.

Either the kid was just brazen or absolutely daft, considering your engagement and wedding rings were hard to miss.

"That Watson girl over there models," You motioned over to the redhead who was talking to a group.

"I don't really go for models," He scoffed, "Between you and me, they tend to be pretty shallow."

"Oh, she's actually quite lovely," you paused, "I know because we used to model together."

The panic in the man's eyes made your sip of wine extra delicious.

"Oh, so uh...what do you do now?" He asked, now quite nervous.

Before you could answer, you felt a large hand place itself on your hip. Another hand grabbed the wine glass out of your hand.

"Jason, my wife's wine glass needs to be refilled. You can do that, right?" Though it had been phrased as a question, Peter made it quite clear 'no' was not an option.

The now nervous Jason quickly grabbed your glass, avoiding eye contact. As he walked away, you looked at your husband.

"You interrupted a very stimulating conversation," you remarked, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Peter ignored your remark, his eyes taking all of you in, "Follow me."

"For what?"

"I said, follow me," He hissed in your ear, the grip he had on your hip tightening. The dominance sent heat straight to your core.

You simply nodded your head, following your husband out of the living room, down the hallway. You were disappointed to be lead to a room, rather than the front door.

Peter opened the door, motioning for you to step inside. You obeyed, walking in first. He quickly followed you.

It was some study. A couple of bookshelves, a nice mahagony desk, a chair that looked quite comfortable. The sudden click of a lock turning broke you out of your thoughts.

Oh.

So that's what he wanted.

"Get on your knees." You thought about making some bratty remark. Considered telling him to make you.

But the hunger in his eyes told you that wasn't the best idea.

You sunk down to the carpet, thankful there was some cushioning for your knees. The sight of your husband undoing his tie as he walked over to you made you clench your thighs.

Peter stood in front of you, armed crossed, his clothed erection now at eye level. You looked up at him, waiting.

"Go ahead."

Your hands reached up to his crotch, unbuttoning his pants. You made quick work of freeing his cock. You wrapped a hand around the base, leaning forward to-

"Did I say you could do that?" Peter asked sternly. You shook your head, removing your hand.

"Who do you listen to?" Peter's hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up.

He was in a mood.

Good thing you knew how to fix that.

"Y-you, Peter. Only you," You shifted from one leg to another, trying to soothe the ache between your legs.

He smirked, "That's right. Now suck."

You wasted no time taking Peter into your mouth, going as far as you could without gagging. It was so sudden, he nearly stumbled backwards. You used your free hand to grip his hip.

"Fuck, baby...." He was breathless, "Such a good mouth. And all mine."

You did your best to nod as you continued to bob your head up and down on his cock. The groans and grunts coming out of Peter's mouth went straight to your core.

"Stop," He ordered. You pulled his cock out of your mouth, dropping your hands. You looked up at him, waiting for the next set of directions.

His hand cupped half of your face, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. Your lipstick was most likely smeared but who cared at this point?

"Who's good girl are you?"

"Y-your's, Daddy." Judging by the grin on Peter's face, it was safe to assume he was pleased to hear you refer to him by his favorite bedroom nickname.

"Why don't you bend over that desk so Daddy can remind you that no one else can fuck you so well?"

You nodded your head, standing up. You slowly walked over to the desk, gripping the edge as you bent over.

In a matter of seconds, you felt two hands all over your body. Your chest, your throat, your ass, your thighs. Peter's hands finally landed on the hem of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips.

"You've been walking around this whole party with no underwear?" He pulled you so your back was against his chest.

"F-for you. Wanted to surprise ya," you somehow managed to get out with Peter's hand gripping your throat. The cool metal of his rings provided additional pressure.

"Ya liked it when that kid tried to flirt with ya?" You shook your head.

"N-no! Only want you, D-Daddy." You gasped at two of his fingers entering you.

"You're so fucking wet, I don't even have to prep ya. How'd I get so lucky?"

You saw me on a billboard and somehow got my Manager's number, is what you wanted to say. But that wouldn't get you his cock.

"P-please fuck me. Want ya s'bad, Daddy," you didn't care that you were whining. The ache between your legs was burning you alive.

Peter bent you over the desk, entering you in one smooth motion.

You yelled at the sensation of him filling you up instantly. Half of Peter's men had already heard you two fucking from the countless "breaks" he took during meetings at your house. Their wives would give you a dirty look at the next dinner party and then stay silent about it.

Peter pulled out of you, slamming back in to create an unrelenting pace. You gripped the edge of the desk, desperate to steady yourself.

"Ya like it when Daddy fucks you nice and hard?"

You nodded your head, a gasp escaping when you felt his cock brush up against that sweet spot.

"Love it s'much. Feels s'good." It was difficult to tell if you were drunk from the alcohol or your husband's cock, or both.

"You're mine. All mine."

"All your's D-Daddy."

"Maybe I should fuck a baby into ya. Make everyone know that only I get to fuck this amazing cunt." His words sent you closer and closer to the edge.

"Ya want that?" Peter tugged on your ponytail, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him.

"Yes! P-please. Want it s'bad. Want your cum s'bad." Your moans continued as you felt two of Peter's fingers begin to circle your clit.

"Then come on Daddy's cock. Show me how bad ya want it."

The sound that escaped your lips was animalistic. Your orgasm knocked you over like a wave in the ocean. If it wasn't for Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, you probably wouldn't be able to stand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," You heard Peter mumbled as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.

With a gutteral groan, Peter's hips stilled as he came inside of you. The two of you stood there, holding onto each other as you tried to catch your breath.

"Ya really meant that? About wanting a baby?" He whispered. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice- something only you got to see.

You titled your head back, bringing one of your hands up to caress the back of his neck.

"You're the only person I want to have kids with. No one else."

He pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile spreading across his face.

"We should...we should call your doctor. Get that IUD taken out," He said when he broke away.

You chuckled, "We should clean up first."

"Yeah, I think I have a handkerchief in my pocket," Peter looked around, locating the jacket that was halfway across the room.

"Well, if anything drips onto the carpet, we'll just blame Jason," He said, chuckling as he prepared to pull out of you.

"Peter!"

"What?"

#my writing #peter parker oneshot #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker au #was gonna post it tomorrow but #i got impatient oops

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cowgurrrl · 9 months

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I REALLY need some Joel fluff where reader says to him “I have loved you with all of my soul”

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT OVERBOARD SO HOPEFULLY ITS OKAY

Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was either gonna not write or write too much guess what happened

Summary: You and Joel finally get married [4.3k!!!!]

Warnings: wedding stress, quick quick mentions of smoking tobacco and marijuana, emotions, Hank Miller being the only southern boomer I care about, fluff :-)

When you were growing up and imagining your wedding day, you never saw yourself getting married in Texas. But once you're in the throes of wedding planning, you very quickly realize you don't want to get married in California. Too many people. Too much of a chance of the paparazzi crashing the wedding. Too close to home. Joel talks about the idea of getting married in your home town which you veto immediately. He starts listing every location significant to you two, New York, Ireland, Spain, and even Australia, but none of them feel right. At one point, you even think about suggesting you just go to the courthouse and file the paperwork, but you know Joel's family would be heartbroken if you didn't have a "real" wedding.

Filming has taken over a majority of your life, as it often does. Joel is in the process of creating his own record label with a studio to match. Ellie is looking at colleges and trying to figure out her next steps, while Sarah is already planning her move to Sacramento to pursue a job and her Master's degree. It feels like there will never be a right time for your wedding. One night, when you're on hour three of being hunched over your computer, looking at fucking floral arrangements, Joel comes up behind you and kneads relaxing circles into your neck with big hands. You sigh and lean back into him, pressing your head into his belly.

"I thought this was gonna be more fun." You mumble, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss the spot under your ear.

"And I thought I told you to hire a wedding planner." He says.

"I don't want a wedding planner. I just want a wedding."

"Well, honey," you can hear him trying to hold in his laughter at your stubborn pouting. To his credit, he pulls it together. "We can find a way to make that happen, but for now, why don't you take a break? You can tell me all your wedding ideas while I pack our bags for Texas." He says, his thumbs adding a little more pressure to your sore muscles, and you melt into him. He could've asked you for the moon right then, and you would've said yes.

"Only if you promise to tell me your ideas, too."

"Deal." He says as he shuts your laptop and scoops you out of your chair. You spend the rest of the night debating cake flavors, groomsmen and bridesmaids, and where you want to go on your honeymoon. It's technically still wedding planning but all the light-hearted parts of wedding planning. You're grateful for the distraction.

Two days later, you, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and the girls get on a flight back to Austin. Hank and Lucia are overdue for a visit anyways, and you figured getting out of California might help to clear your heads for a while. However, the boys immediately flee the scene when you arrive at the Miller Ranch. You and Lucia share a confused look as Hank leads them down a steep hill, pointing at a pasture and talking about something you can't hear, but decide to take it as an opportunity for girl time.

You, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie spend the night drinking margaritas and exchanging stories. It's nice to giggle and talk with them like you're little girls again. In a way, they make you feel like you get a second chance at girlhood, and for that, you will always be grateful. Once it gets close to dinner time, the Miller men shuffle their way back inside the house, kick off their muddy boots, walk over to their partners, and kiss them sweetly.

As one big blended family, you make dinner together. Lucia delegates tasks while Hank and the girls steal pieces of chicken when nobody's looking. Joel pretends to need something from the fridge to slide past you and smack your ass as he does. Lucia catches him, hits his arm, and yells at him in Spanish about being nice to you. "Mamá!" Joel tries to defend himself, but you just give him a look and leave him to be lectured at by his mother. Once dinner is ready, you all sit at the long table in the dining room and continue to laugh, talk, and be a family. Maria asks questions about wedding planning while Lucia (lovingly) interrogates Ellie and Sarah about their love lives.

"Are you dating anyone, mija?" Lucia asks, gesturing to Sarah. Sarah shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and you know, even if she lied, her grandmother would see right through it.

"I actually met someone," she says. "His name is Ethan. He's a firefighter, and we met when someone pulled the fire alarm on campus."

"He's really nice, Mamá," Joel jumps in before Lucia can continue her questions, raising his eyebrows at her. "We really like him." He looks at you like he's trying to show you how supportive he's being of Sarah's relationship even though it took him multiple meetings and several talks with both of you to approve of his daughter's choices.

"Sarah, you didn't even tell her the best part." You poke, and Sarah sighs, already anticipating Lucia's reaction and making you smirk as you eat.

"There's a best part?" Lucia asks. "Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Ethan speaks Spanish," Sarah says. Lucia got so excited you would've thought the second coming of Christ was happening in her living room. She immediately starts talking about coming to LA to meet him and his family or even flying them out to Austin to see the ranch. You can't help but smile as you watch them conspire together.

Once everyone is full, the boys take the dirty plates to the kitchen to wash them while you and the other women put away the leftovers and clean the table. Joel waits until the dining room is back together before stealing you away from the chaos and bringing you outside. The sun setting over the Texas hill country takes your breath away as he walks you halfway between the house and the stables, with just enough acreage to not see too much of either. You can't believe how quiet it is out here. Once you get far enough out, Tommy and Hank come into view with little posts in the ground.

"What's this?" You ask Joel as you get closer, and he smiles. He takes his hand in yours and stops walking to look at you.

"I've been thinkin’, and I wanted to see what you thought about gettin’ married here." He says.

"On the ranch?"

"Look, we've already mapped it all out," he says, leaving your side to walk to one of the posts. "This could be the dance floor, and over here," he walks a few feet to another post. "This could be where the tables get set up," he gestures before walking back over to you and pointing to a big white oak tree a couple hundred feet away. "And we could have the ceremony under that tree. Dad and Tommy already said they would help me put up some of those fairy lights you like so much. We could make it really nice." He says, and you glance between him and Hank and Tommy.

"Is this what you guys did all afternoon?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hank says, and you smile. You look out at the painted sky with the wildflowers swaying in the breeze, and from this far out, you can see the comforting glow of light from the house. You can also spot a lazy Longhorn grazing in the pasture about half a mile away, completely unaware of the world around him. It's beautiful. And private. And so perfectly encompasses what you both want for the wedding.

"You don't have to make a decision right now. I know it's a lot, but I thought it'd be fun." Joel says. You wrap your arms around his neck and step into him, smiling when his hands find your waist.

"Let's do it." You say, and he lights up.

"Wait, really?"

"I never thought I'd say it, but yeah. Let's get married in Texas." The words are barely out of your mouth before he picks you up off the ground and spins you around giddily. He kisses you to seal the deal, and Tommy and Hank cheer from their spots.

After that, wedding planning really ramps up. You set an official date. You make Carolina your Maid of Honor, and Ryan agrees to stand in as your officiant after Lucia determines he's "just Catholic enough." Elizabeth gets the responsibility of ring bearer since she's a little older, while Victoria is the flower girl. You quickly add Sarah, Ellie, and Maria to your wedding party after assuring Ellie that she can wear whatever she wants. Joel makes Tommy his Best Man and asks his band to be his groomsmen. Even though Wayne is the only other guy in the band, they all say yes and don't even blink at the idea of having to fly to Texas.

The next few months are a blur of flower orders, cake tastings, schedule workarounds, and more. Carolina, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie go dress shopping with you. You were initially just going to send some ideas to your stylist for her to make you a dress, but they were all vehemently against that idea. It takes a couple different stores and a handful of different dresses, but you finally find a sleek silk dress with a lace bodice that makes everyone, including you, cry when you stand in the mirror. Your bridesmaids find their outfits in no time, and Carolina gets cute little dresses for the girls.

You only invite the really important people and a photographer. You only tell a few people outside the guests and the wedding party when and where you're getting married. It's none of their business. This is just for your family. No outsiders. You don't even hire a DJ. Tommy just agrees to bring a big speaker, and you sit down to make a playlist with Joel about a month before the wedding.

Your crew of people descend upon Austin the week of your wedding, ready to work together to turn the Miller Ranch into a dream location. Thankfully, Hank and Lucia have gathered their own community of people and already have half the work done by the time you come up the long dirt driveway. Ryan helps Hank, Tommy, and his buddies hang lights in the tree. Carolina and Sarah help Lucia, and her friends put together centerpieces. Joel's band and Ellie set up tables and the dance floor. Whenever you or Joel try to help or lend a hand, someone ends up shooing you away and telling you to relax. They only listen to either of you when you're giving direction on how you want things to go.

You keep the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties to a minimum, only going out to a few bars far from Sixth Street and spending most of the time getting drunk in the guest house turned Bridal Suite. You're pretty sure Hank gave Joel and the groomsmen cigars, which is fine as long as they don't find out you gave the bridesmaids weed. It's nice to not have to worry about nosy people or cameras ruining the days leading up to your wedding. The quiet, giggly privacy is all you want. It also helps to clear your head when writing your vows.

From the beginning, you and Joel decided you wanted to write your own vows instead of using the archaic, pre-written ones. You just didn't know then how hard it would be to find the right things to say. You ask Carolina, Lucia, and Maria for advice, but they just tell you the same cheesy line of "writing from your heart." While it's incredibly sweet, it's not exactly helpful. The night before the wedding, Sarah and Ellie sneak into your room for one last sleepover before you marry Joel, and you ask them for help. You read them what you've already written and catch them both wiping tears as you recite it. They give you logical advice and stay up with you to rewrite your vows until they're perfect. You fall asleep with them tucked under your arms like babies despite them being twenty-two and eighteen.

In the morning, everyone piles into your room with plates of breakfast and mimosas from the main house. You're not allowed to leave the guest house because they think if you see Joel before the ceremony, it'll be bad luck. You're not sure you believe that, but you'll take the excuse to get other people to run things to and from the house. Ellie plays music from her speaker as everyone picks a corner to do their hair and makeup in, and you spend the first half of the day getting ready and spending time with the most important women in your life. They help you into your dress once the photographer arrives to take pre-wedding photos of you guys, but everyone is a crying mess once you're all dressed up with the dress, veil, and everything.

Many, many sweet words and hugs are exchanged, and the photographer catches all of them. Sarah and Ellie surprise you with new earrings from Joel and a beautiful necklace they picked out for the wedding. Sarah helps you put on the earrings while Ellie clasps the necklace around your neck. You give the girls rings that match the one you've been hiding in plain sight on your right ring finger for weeks now. "For as much as I'm promising to love your dad today, I'm also promising to love you guys with everything I am for as long as I am," you say, tears springing in your eyes as you hand the delicate rings to them. They're crying, too, but they're holding it together a little bit better than you are. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And I hope I never forget just how lucky I am to have two of the most extraordinary women in the world in my life." After all these years, it feels like you're finally becoming the family you always knew you were.

The rest of the day goes by way too fast. One minute you're hugging Sarah and Ellie, and the next, your arm is tucked under Hank's as your bridesmaids and goddaughters slowly walk down the aisle. Your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, and you feel like you can't breathe, but you know once you see Joel, you'll feel completely at peace. You go from fiddling with your bouquet to your engagement ring to even readjusting Hank's tie as Alex plays an instrumental version of your favorite ABBA song.

"Honey, look at me," Hank says gently. You meet his green eyes, and he smiles as he puts a hand over yours and squeezes. "Take a breath," he says. He demonstrates with an exaggerated inhale in case you forgot and you copy him. Together, you take three big breaths, and once the last of the Texas air leaves your lungs, Hank squeezes your hand again. "Now, I know I really shouldn't be sayin' this since that's my boy up there, but if you've gone and changed your mind, I'll bring my truck round the corner and drive you wherever you needa go." You laugh at his words and shake your head.

"I kinda love him, so I think I'll be okay, but thank you." You try to brush it off, but your anxiety still lingers. Hank nods and bumps you with his shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I was scared shitless the day I married Lucia." He whispers like it's a secret, and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirms. "We were so goddamn young and thought we were so grown up. I remember seein' her walkin' down the aisle and just thinkin' bout how I was gonna support her and give her the life she deserved. I didn't know if I was man enough to do it. I almost started cryin' just cause of that."

"What changed?" You ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His hair moves with the wind, and for a second, you get a glimpse of what Joel could look like at his age. And it doesn't scare you.

"She smiled at me, and I was done for. I knew if I didn't marry her, I was gonna be kickin' myself for the rest of my life," he finds the back of Lucia's head as Tommy and Carolina pass her, and he smiles. "Still the best decision I ever made." You take a deep breath and realize the line of wedding party is getting shorter and shorter as each pair is dispatched down the aisle. Your heart is still beating fast, but you feel less sick and more excited about getting to see Joel after not seeing him all day. You squeeze Hank's hand again before sliding it under his arm and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Ready, baby girl?" He asks as he kisses your head, and you nod. With Hank's strong arm leading the way, you start walking down the aisle and immediately lock eyes with Joel. He starts crying, which makes you start crying so much you have to blink several times to see how handsome he looks in his suit. Hank kisses your cheek as you reach the aisle's end before hugging Joel and handing you off to him. You turn around, give Carolina your bouquet, and take Joel's hands.

"You look so beautiful," Joel whispers, and you sniffle.

"Thank you," you whisper back. "You look pretty handsome yourself."

"Gucci," he mouths, gesturing to his suit, and you nod your approval. It's silly enough to break the emotional tension as Ryan starts speaking, even though you're not really listening. He says something to appease Lucia's Catholic roots before talking about how important and beautiful marriage is, but you can't stop staring at Joel. It's only when Ryan says your name and the word 'vows' do you snap back to reality. Carolina quickly supplies you with the scribbled-on paper and a tissue because nobody knows you as well as she does, and you squeeze Joel's hand.

"Joel, it seems hard to remember a time when we weren't together and even harder to remember what my life was like before I met you. I did and accomplished so many important things, but nothing seemed as important or special once you and the girls came into my life. You three became my entire world, and for that alone, I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for that gift," you say. "When I was trying to write my vows, I honestly didn't know where to start. Instead of struggling by myself, I asked the two people who've been there since the beginning of our relationship: Sarah and Ellie. After giving me lots of advice and all but forcing me to add something about loving you even though you snore," you and Joel laugh.

"Sarah told me it might be a good idea to write about the very first time I realized I loved you, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I couldn't pinpoint one specific day or time. There was never a moment of clarity or realization when it came to you. Loving you came easily and naturally, like breathing, and once I realized it, I knew there was no going back. You were and still are the person I want to spend my life with. Our story is not traditional or necessarily one for the history books, and I think you'd agree with me," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel's thumb brushes against your knuckles softly.

"We've had setbacks and hard times. Everything from moving across the world to trying to remember who loaded the dishwasher last but through everything, you were my home. My safe place. My reason to keep going. And if historians in a hundred years pay us any attention, I hope they write about how protected you made me feel. I hope they talk about how we found ways to laugh together even when it felt hard. I hope they spend hours and hours lecturing about how much I loved you because I do. I have loved you with all my soul for as long as I can remember, and I will keep loving you like that until long after I forget the exact details of our first date. Thank you for choosing me." You sniffle, fold your paper back up, and wipe under your eyes with Carolina's tissue. Various sniffles and tears rake over your guests and wedding party as Tommy hands Joel his vows with wet eyes.

"When I first moved to LA with Sarah, I didn't know what was gonna happen. I didn't know I'd have another daughter, my band, or meet the love of my life. The day we met, I remember thinkin' I'd never known anybody as witty or smart as you, and I still think that. But now, after so many years, I know you're more than that. You're brave, kind, talented, hard-working, and way out of my league," he says, and you laugh. "The first time I remember realizin' just what an amazing person you are was when I told you about Sarah and Ellie. Other people would be freaked out or even upset if they found out the person they'd been datin' had kids. You weren't. You asked questions about them and were selfless with your time so I could be with the girls when they needed a little extra love and care. And when you met them, you treated them like you'd known them your whole life. You treated them like you're own," he squeezes your hand a little hard like he's trying to find the strength to continue. "That's when I knew I was gonna marry you,"

"I trusted you then with the two people closest to my heart and it's safe to say you'll always be the one I trust with the girls. You'll always be the one I trust to get me out of bed on time. You'll always be the one I trust to help me make fashion choices. You'll always be the one I trust to be patient with me and get coffee when we need to recharge because you're my person. I love you, and I'll love you when I'm old and wrinkly and can't hear for shit. And you'll know all my stories, and I'll know all your movies by heart, and we'll laugh for years and years. I can't wait to start forever with you." He almost wipes his eyes with his vows, and you quickly switch his hands, making him laugh.

I love you, he mouths.

I love you, too, you mouth back.

Everyone, including Ryan, takes a second to sit in their emotions before taking a deep breath and coming back together. He calls Elizabeth forward, and you exchange rings. Joel stands up a little straighter the second the gold band is placed on his left hand, and you smile. Ryan clears his throat, eyes shining as he stares at you two and opens his mouth.

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" He announces. Your few guests cheer loudly as Joel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. Wildflower petals scatter around you, and the sun is setting behind the altar, but nothing matters as much as your husband does now. He kisses you a few more times before finally pulling away and joining the cheering. You walk back up the aisle, now married, and everyone follows after you.

The reception after is perfect with all your favorite foods and desserts, including Lucia's Texas Trash Pie, which makes your mouth water just looking at it. People hug you and Joel and offer congratulations and even a few sweet tears at the ceremony. Carolina and Tommy deliver amazing, hilarious speeches honoring both of you, and then it's finally time to dance. You and Joel chose "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and Harry James for your first dance, and under the fairy lights and setting Texas sun, you realize just how perfect a choice it was.

You bury your head in his neck and sway slowly with him, basking in the tenderness of being so close to him. He sings along quietly and kisses the shell of your ear as you dance. Towards the end, you spot Ellie and Sarah standing beside the dance floor and wave them to you behind Joel's back. They hesitate for a second before running to join you. Joel tucks each girl under his arm and kisses their foreheads. The four of you make for an awkward little slow dance, but you're all giggling and smiling despite it.

As the song ends, Joel escorts the three of you off the dance floor before grabbing Lucia for the mother-son dance. Lucia is so short compared to Joel that it's almost impossible not to smile. Still, he's slow and careful with her, and his eyes sparkle as they converse secretly. You catch Hank watching them through teary eyes nearby, and a secret plan hatches in your brain. Quickly, you rush over to where your phone is connected to the speaker and queue up an acoustic version of “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner. When Lucia and Joel's song ends, you grab Hank's hand and pull him onto the floor as the song starts playing.

"Now, what are you doin'?" He asks as you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You never got to have a father-daughter dance. I figured you should get at least one." You explain. Tears fill his eyes almost instantly, and you smile when he holds you close.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "For everythin'."

"I should be thanking you and Lucia. You raised my husband."

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and spending time with your favorite people. You’re not exactly sure how long you were out there celebrating but you do know that your feet were sore and your brain utterly fried from the long, emotional day. Joel carries you to bed bridal style and carefully lays you down, doing his best not to rip your dress as he helps you slip your shoes off. Together, you undo your hair, take off your makeup, take off and hang up your dress, and change into one of Joel’s shirt before crawling into bed.

“Tired?” Joel asks as he starts shedding his wedding clothes too and you nod into the pillow.

“Sorry for not, like, wanting to consummate our marriage right now.” You say, and he laughs. It’s that delirious, breathless laughter where you’re not sure if the joke was actually that funny or if the reaction to it is. You laugh too and watch his nose scrunch up and his body shake with joy. He steps out of his slacks, presses a knee into the mattress to lean over you, and kisses you sweetly.

“Don’t worry bout that,” he mumbles against you. “We’ve got our whole lives.”

Once he’s finished changing, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to rub your back. You can feel his wedding band getting caught in the fabric but you don’t say anything. You fall asleep in his arms, full of love, Texas Trash Pie, and giddy excitement at what the future holds. How could you not when you get to spend it with him?

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #one for the money two for the show request #ellie the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us series #the last of us #the last of us fic

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heyftinally · 7 days

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It’s very hilarious because age wise Taylor Swift’s literally in the same age range as Adele, Beyoncé, SZA, Hozier… and Taylor’s discography is so juvenile. It’s like she’s so out of touch with reality that the only problems she can master in songwriting are romantic relationships. Her music as a teenager had more weight than the music she makes as a grown woman. And this isn’t even by the fact that she doesn’t have kids - SZA is right there!

Her latest albums sounds like it was made by a 19 years old. Which would be Olivia Rodrigo, Tate McRae, etc, like this woman is 34 years old and it’s talking about wanting to be touched by the hands of a gamer… be for real. And the “I’m having his kids, not I didn’t” is so corny that it produced me second hand embarrassment. And might you this song is about a racist she dated for like 2 months… And one of her songs being an exact concept of get him back by Olivia Rodrigo, who was 19 when she made that… I need her fans to be for real. this album is garbage.

Honestly, it's not even just this album. Like, you're 100% right, but let's go back even further.

"Look what you made me do" - it literally sounds like a child blaming someone else for their own mistakes. "You made me late to practice!!" says the child who refused to do their mandatory chores earlier, or didn't remember to give their parent the note about an extra practice. Because emotionally intelligent and mature adults recognize that it's a very rare situation that someone truly MAKES you do anything. And I find it VERY hard to believe that anyone truly MADE - as in FORCED - Taylor Swift to do anything.

"Bad Blood" - is quite literally about Taylor Swift throwing a tantrum because Katy Perry hired her dancers. Let me give you an insider look at how commercial dance works as a career. Let's call our fake dancer Katie. Katie auditions for Taylor Swift's tour and gets selected - she now has employment secured for the next 12 months. Anywhere between 3 and 6 months before the end of that contract, Katie will begin looking for her next audition/contract. Why? Because dancers are freelancers, so if you aren't working, you aren't getting paid. So if Taylor Swift wants Katie to be in her next project, she needs to have that contract ready to present as soon as she makes that decision, and the longer she waits, the less chance there is that Katie will not yet have signed a new contract. If Katy Perry reaches out to Katie's agent at the 6mo mark with an offer, and Taylor Swift hasn't offered anything after her tour, Katie is faced with this dilemma: take the Katy Perry offer - a guaranteed job - or decline and HOPE that something else comes along quickly. Dancers can't afford to gamble their livelihood like that, so Katie takes the Katy Perry job. If Taylor comes to Katie three months later wanting to offer a new contract, she's out of luck. Not because Katie was "stolen", but because she made an intelligent financial decision for her life and career.

"Better Than Revenge" - I don't care that she changed the mattress line, she was still a grown ass adult when she wrote it, and frankly the fact that she spends the entire song referring to the hypothetical guy as a "toy" is creepy and gross.

"What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Want You More" - literally sounds like an obsessive teenager in a toxic relationship. So if he beats you bloody, you still want to be with him? No, seek help.

And the list goes on. SO MANY of her songs are these pedantic little 8th grade diary takes coming out of a mid-30's woman. Just compare Adel's "Someone Like You" to literally any Taylor Swift song. Has Taylor EVER wished her ex's "nothing but the best, just please don't forget me"? Because if memory serves, it's always either "I want you back wah poor me" or "fuck you you're a toxic piece of shit".

One of my favorite adult artists is Hilary Duff. She's been releasing albums since the early 2000's as a teenager, so she's roughly in the same situation as Taylor. However, Hilary's work very clearly aged with her. From one of her early albums, Metamorphosis, she has songs like Sweet Sixteen, Metamorphosis, and Working it Out, all of which are about different experiences of being young, recognizing you're still growing and becoming yourself, and the excitement confusion that often comes along with that. None of those three songs are about a boy, but do mention them as *part* of her life. As a young 20-something, Hilary released Reach Out, which is a spicy, suggestive party song. It conjures up images of dark rooms, loud music, and roaming hands. "It's like the prey playing games with the hunter, nowhere to run boy, time to surrender". It's notably more mature and suggestive than anything she sang at 16/17. Then several years later, in her 30s, we got songs like Confetti and My Kind, which are about finding people - romantically or platonically - that are "our kind" of people or who will "catch" us. Looking for stability and authenticity, people who are real and want to stick with you for the long haul because they like you for who you really are. No more flings and hook ups from her 20s, she's a grown adult who wants the people around her to be real, even when it's not what she wants to hear.

We don't see this kind of growth or change with Taylor Swift. She's still writing the same angry breakup songs we was writing at 17, and her lyricism hasn't even improved. If anything, I think it got worse.

Anyway, this got really long, but oh well. You're so right, anon, and it's WILD.

#ask #anon #anti taylor swift #taylor swift critical

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petalsscribbles · 18 days

Text

1. negotiations

Yn can't help but note just how big and prestigious Jay's workplace looks as he stands in front of it. One can only guess just how many floors it has. Either way its overwhelming appearance does not help ease that strange almost foreboding feeling in his chest. He sighs and braces himself as he enters.

The receptionist is dressed as everyone would expect. Grey pencil skirt reaching just below her knees and a jacket to match. Rectangular glasses sit on her pointy nose as she types away with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Hi, I'm Yn. I'm here to see Mr. Park." He says taming his shaking voice.

"Ah welcome!" She says with a practiced warm tone and a perfect smile. "I'll let you through. Mr. Park's office is on the 20th floor."

"Thank you." He answers and she bows her head slightly. Just as instructed, Yn passes the terminals and makes his way towards the elevators, pressing the right button once he's in. The ride is torturously long, or at least it feels like it. He can't help but wonder how much has Jay changed since he last saw him. He, Wonyoung and Yn used to hang out as kids, until Jay moved to America for his studies at 13 and he hasn't seen him since. Well, until now, but Yn figures they'll have plenty of time to catch up once they're married.

The walk from the elevator to Jay's office is short and a secretary with another practiced smile lets him in.

Jay's office is spacious, to say the least, perhaps way too big for a single person to work in.

"Yn, I'm glad you could make it." Jay says, getting up from his desk and walking over to his future husband. Yn can only let out a quiet hi.

Face wise he hasn't changed all that much, still very much the boy he knew. Body is a whole another story though. He towers over Yn and the suit he's wearing highlights his athletic figure.

Jay puts his hand on Yn's back and leads him to the chair infront of his desk, taking his place on the opposite side once Yn is comfortably seated.

"Thank you for making time for me." He starts "You must have been surprised."

"A little but it's okay." Yn admits.

"Okay, let's get to work. When it comes to engagement, I plan to propose to you on my grandfather's birthday party. There will be a lot of cameras already so it's convenient."

Convenient.

Yeah, that's what this is. That's what they are. Convenient.

"Now for the marriage itself. Do you want to move in with me, or should we get a new apartment?"

"A new one." Yn answers. Jay nods.

"Should we sleep in one bed or do you want a room on your own?"

"Let's share, in case someone visits."

"What about chores and cooking? Do you want me to hire someone or should we split?"

"I think we can manage our own apartment."

"I agree. We're not toddlers." Jay says and Yn chuckles slightly. "This is just my idea but, I think we should do skinship at home, so it doesn't seem forced when we're in public."

"Yeah, okay. We can do that." yn answers quickly, trying to hide his initial surprise.

"Are you fine with pet names?" Jay adds.

"Yeah, as long as it's nothing too cringy."

"Okay. Anything you'd like to add?"

Yn thinks for a second. There is a big part of marriage that they have not covered yet.

Intimacy.

"Are you going to find a mistress?"

"What?!" He exclaims, losing his composure as his eyes widen. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I mean, I assume you probably won't have sex with me so..." Yn trails off. One of the most shocking parts of this whole ordeal is why Jay would marry a man.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asks after taking control of his voice again.

"Aren't you straight?"

"No I'm bisexual."

"Oh." He suddenly feels incredibly dumb. He went to college for Christ's sake of course he could make some discoveries about himself.

"Yn, I won't force you to have sex with me but if either of us had a lover and got caught by press we'd either have to: be branded as a cheater, admit that this is fake or trying to convince everyone we have an open marriage. I don't think I have to explain to you why none of those options are good for us."

"Right, right."

"Well if that's all I won't waste any more of your time. But don't forget we can always make adjustments." Jay reminds. Yn just nods and gives him a small smile.

"I'll see you at the party."

a/n: updates probably won't be as frequent as it was with Bad Habits but I'll try my best not to give up on you my pookies

taglist OPEN comment/ send ask to be added

@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @lavanderxamour @zzzavid

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#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen x male reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay x male reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay smau

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thygoddessouijathicc · 1 year

Text

Dave and Jack are gay and there is proof

So the fandom liked my post on the wedding dress thing so I’ve decided to make yet another DSAF text post on DSAF headcanons with rationals behind them. This time on a much bigger one with far more evidence actually, that is all but (and might actually be) confirmed.

This headcanon of course I am speaking of is Dave and Jack being gay. This is the most popular headcanon in the fandom, and for good reason. I have yet to hear any opposing opinions actually, the fandom is again unanimous. I’m going to make this post anyway for new fans and the like.

CAUTION FOR SPOILERS FOR THE DSAF 3 ENDINGS

Just about anyone who has played, watched, or engaged in any way with DSAF has likely noticed that Dave (a character who can either be your best friend or your nemesis depending on your route) and the protagonist of the game, Jack, occasionally have interactions with decidedly fruity undertones.

Although I have not seen as much evidence that JACK is gay, given that his personality varies greatly depending on how he’s played in most games, although his being gay can quickly at least be surmised from his final speech to Dave in the true ending of the third game, although not directly stating anything specific about their relationship, does have Jack imply subtly that there is something there.

If you count things the player can make Jack say specifically rather than just things he says on his own, then Jack being gay is a resounding yes, as lines of dialogue like “thanks bae”, *blush and nod*, and more are very much in the games.

Furthermore, Jack compares if not straight up calls Davetrap his ex during the good ending of DSAF 3 with Roger. Dave and Jack also slept in the same bed while in Vegas.

As for Dave being gay, there is a lot more there. Like infinity more than I think I could ever cover, but I’ll try.

Dave very frequently calls Jack pet names, in fact, I think I can count on one hand how many times he’s actually called Jack by his actual name. He also seems to blatantly flirt with him ingame.

Dave confesses to having seen Jack’s bedroom before, and in the third game further is revealed to have set up cameras in Jack’s house, connected his vents to his house to “protect” Jack, and have had frequently used his shower and toothbrush. Not exactly healthy behaviour or signs of a healthy relationship, but DSAF is DSAF, there is an ending in the third game where you burn down your restaurant because of furries.

Davetrap, although a manipulative character, and not a very good person, is one of the bigger causes for Dave being clearly gay. Davetrap, having less restraint than his Flipside counterpart and being more disturbingly obsessive, has done a number of things to confirm the ship.

First of all, Davetrap waited 30 years for Jack, and fixed Henry’s old suit in order to try to springlock him so they can be together forever, and that’s just not a thing you do with a friend. Even if it’s toxic and fucked, we’re trying to prove he’s gay, not that he’s a good person, honestly, Flipside Dave himself after his whole redemption arc is Chaotic Good at best, Chaotic Neutral to Chaotic Evil at worst, although I believe more Chaotic Neutral.

If you side with Davetrap, things get gayer from here. If you chose to hire the female nightgaurd, Davetrap berates you, not due to sexism, rather because she has an extra hole to fill with animatronic parts, going on to talk about how his own asshole is a cavern due to previously mentioned animatronic parts. The interaction ends of course with Dave implying that he wants Jack to “find something” to fill the hole. Well ok then.

Finally getting to the part I’m sure most of you have been waiting for, Davetrap’s confession, the reason I said this might be fully canon. During the bad ending of the third game Davetrap takes you down to the Fazbunker, trying to cheer himself up as he feels something is wrong. In the final room he figures out what it is, and apologizes for springlocking Jack, showing genuine care for his well-being. Jack, manipulated by Henry, then scares the shit out of Davetrap, and rips off his head. However, just before his death, Davetrap says “Don’t do this, I love you”. The reason this doesn’t fully prove it in my mind is that it could have been said out of desperation and that only Davetrap says this, Flipside Dave never says anything of this manner specifically. However I do not believe that Davetrap was lying here, as the lines previously in which he expresses guilt towards his actions and his affects on Jack prove that he does indeed care a lot for him, and while he might have been desperate, all evidence proves that he was not lying. I just can’t accept this as full undeniable evidence as, again, we never get anything like this from Flipside Dave.

That’s not to say Flipside Dave is not in love with Jack however. To the contrary, he most definitely is. Case and point. The pizza flirt.

When interacting with the pizza thingy I don’t care to learn the name of, Dave asks Jack how he likes his pizza, then proceeds to ask him if he’d ever be willing to have eggplant on his pizza. This, in context, is a very clear case of Dave very non-subtly flirting with Jack.

To go to the ending of the good route, upon finding out Jack cannot move on due to not having a soul, Dave freaks out, says he can’t go on without Jack, and says he would rather stay in the void with Jack. Jack only gets him to leave giving him Blackjack, the embodiment of his own soul which cannot join back with his body, telling him Blackjack will not leave him.

For misc evidence, during the evil route of the second game Dave changes his plan to include torturing Peter when Jack gets fired because it bothered him, referring to Jack as his “orange baby”, and insinuating that he cares more about Jack’s pain than his own.

There is an ending in which Dave says “Old Sport you will be mine” while attempting to shoot up Freddy’s.

Although Flipside Dave unlike Davetrap never actually says that he loves Jack, he does call him the “tangerine to my aubergine”, which in my opinion is pretty close.

During the neutral ending of the third game, Jack yells at Davetrap, saying how he only opened his Freddy’s location for money, specifically saying “do you think any of this was because I loved Freddy’s? Or loved YOU?”. Davetrap then responds by opening up his mask (if I recall the only time he does this), crying and saying he’s going to go cry in a dumpster, alone.

On one of Dave’s tapes he goes crazy and vows to find Jack.

In Dave’s diary he says he’s “really wild about Jack”, and writes his nickname a lot. I also heard something about having files of pictures of Jack in a maid dress, and Jack having pictures of Dave in a maid dress, although I don’t know if this is true or not.

Finally, what all of you have been waiting for. Doggo has confirmed that both Dave and Jack are pan or bi, Jack having a preference for men. Doggo has also stated that he himself ships these two, although it was intentionally made ambiguous.

So to close off my argument, here are the results. In all endings of DSAF 3, as well as all prior games, Dave is in love with Jack, Jack himself varies, seemingly only being gay during the third good ending and some routes in the previous games, although in the neutral route and the bad route of the third game he decided does not like Dave at all.

#dsaf jack #dsaf dave #dsaf old sport #dsaf #dsaf 3 #jack kennedy #dave miller #davesport #dayshift at freddy's #dave x jack #gay #DSAF rationals #Because I guess this is just a thing I do now

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disneyanddisneyships · 10 months

Note

Sending an ask about mal seeing aponi on stage during an interview with Val and fiding out she's in hell

I hope I do Mal justice-

Warnings: mentions of bl*wjobs, r@pe, hell

Mal sighed as she held up the flyer in her hand to match the photo to the club in front of her.

She had died only a few days ago, and she had to find a job.

Everything was incredibly expensive down here. (Go figure)

This was the best job she could possibly find.

A performer at a strip club.

Not the most wanted choice, but the only choice she had. She always loved singing and dancing. It's what she and her former best friend used to do before they parted ways.

Mal walked into the club, the lights almost blinding her.

She made her way to the main box, seeing the sign on the door labeled "Valentino".

She knocked on the door.

"Come in," a snake-like voice spoke from the other end.

Mal raised an eyebrow as she walked in only for her eyes to widen and her head to turn away from the scene playing out in front of her.

"That'll be all, Angel," the voice stated.

The demon who had been sucking valentino off stood up and walked out of the room, paying Mal a comforting smile before closing the door.

"Who are you?" Valentino asked as he took a sip of wine.

"Uh.... My name is Mal.... I saw the flyer that stated you needed performers," Mal stated as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Ahhh yes.... I had forgotten about those.... come and sit down, Mal. One of my performers is about to start," Valentino replied.

Mal took a breath and walked over to where Valentino sat before taking a seat herself.

The lighting turned orange and music started before Valentino began to speak.

"So, beautiful. What makes you want a job down here?" Valentino asked as he crossed his legs and leaned backwards in his seat.

"Well um.... I like to dance and sing, and this is the closest I could get down here," Mal replied. "In fact in my life, my best friend-" Mal stopped talking as she caught a glimpse of the singer on stage.

Lilly?

"What were you saying?" Valentino asked as he rolled his eyes, his patience growing thin.

"Who.... who is she?" Mal asked as she tilted her head, attempting to get a better look at the singer.

Valentino looked at his performer before smiling slyly. "Her name is Aponi... of course not her real name, but she's only told one other demon about that. She came to us almost a year ago. Poor thing was incredibly quiet. Traumatized. She has little to no sex appeal, but her voice is what drew me to hiring her," he explained.

Mal's eyes traveled the floorboards as she tried to figure out if this so called "aponi" was who Mal thought she was.

"Am I hired?" Mal asked as she looked at the finishing performance.

Valentino raised an eyebrow. "I suppose so. You start today. I'll have Elise show you everything," he stated before ringing a bell.

A red succubus demon walked into the door and Mal stood up, following her out.

......

Mal walked through the back of the room until she found the dressing room with a sign labeled "Aponi".

She pulled back the curtain to find the person she was looking for.

"Lilly?"

Aponi looked up from what she was doing, seeing a figure in the mirror and turning around.

"Mal?" She asked, her eyes wide.

Aponi stood up quickly before the two girls hugged each other.

Aponi pulled away after a few moments

"How long have you been in hell? How did you find me?" Aponi asked.

"Forget all that, why the fuck are YOU in hell?!?!" Mal asked as she looked at her old friend up and down.

"Shit happens," Aponi replied. "Do you work for Valentino now?" She asked.

"I didn't have a choice.. but why the hell is my, very Christian friend, working at a strip club?" Mal asked.

"I didn't have a choice either.... i-... I can't believe you're here!" Aponi stated with a relieved smile.

"Me? What about you! I mean.... you have.. BOOBS now.... and the markings! And what happened to your other eye?" Mal asked.

"I- ha... yeah.. new body new colors I guess... new me..." Aponi replied.

"Why are you down here?" Mal asked, sensing some sadness in Aponi's mood.

"Uh..... Jason.... Jason raped me.... while I was uh.. pregnant and... I couldn't take the shame of it so I uh...." Aponi trailed off before pulling down her choker to reveal the rope burns that got transferred over from life.

"He.... he WHAT?!" Mal asked, pure anger in her voice.

"It was a year ago. Im... doing better now I guess...." Aponi replied with a small smile.

#The timeline is very weird in this #I wanted to leave out the E and Mal relationship starter cut I didn't know how u would want it to go I this universe #We should continue this in the reblogs because my ideas are GONE for this one.

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azzys-secret-kink-blog · 1 month

Text

Interspecies Surrogacy: It's a Thing (part 1)

This is mostly fluff, but cw for pregnancy. I've never written fluff before, so let me know what yall think! (1600 words)

Rax was lounging in his ship, reading some news feeds from his home planet, when a knock rang from the door. He put down the datapad and quickly shifted back to a humanoid form.

"It's unlocked, what is it?" He called. The door slid open to reveal Rasha, his boss. She ran the Cargo Freighter Osiris, a ship that would transport anything or anyone, anywhere, for the right price. They mostly did normal and unassuming deliveries, but they weren't opposed to a few deals that were less than ordinary here and there. As far as Rax knew, Rasha had been speaking with a client about a more unorthodox delivery that they wanted to commission the Osiris team for, though usually Rax wasn't involved in the more administrative parts of the process until the finalization of everything.

"The client needs to speak to you, Rax. Apparently what he wants is something only a Despian can do," Rasha said. Rax groaned. People always looked for Despians for their weird depraved nonsense because of their shapeshifting abilities, and there weren't many around, so he wouldn't be surprised if this one was just looking to hire him for something personal.

He followed Rasha out of the ship bay, through the halls, and into her office. Most of their business was done here on the freighter, and one could go about most of their day without leaving. Rax sat next to the clients, two reptilian Jinneri, in Rasha's office, and she sat in her chair behind her desk. A male and a female, they wore long robes and Jinneri breathing masks, and sat very close to each other. Rax wasn't expecting a couple, but the answer would probably be no regardless.

"Okay, so what exactly did you want Rax for that you couldn't tell me?" Rasha asked. Rax prepared for whatever nasty thing they'd ask him to do.

"Well, you see, there aren't many other Jinneri around, and we've been having . . . fertility issues," the male said. "My wife has been unable to carry, and we haven't been able to find a surrogate, but we heard that Despians can carry almost any species, so we were hoping that you could help us."

Rax frowned. "Okay, well that wasn't the direction I thought this was going to go, but absolutely no-"

"Five million credits."

Rax blinked. "What?"

"We'll give you five million credits. We have an egg ready to go, and we'll pay you entirely up front." The female said.

Rax sat for a moment. That was a lot of credits. With that much money, he could send some home for his family and have tons left over so he could buy an actual home rather than just living inside of his ship. He didn't think he'd ever come across this kind of money in his life, but here they were, handing it to him on a silver platter.

But was it worth it? He pulled out his datapad and did a few quick searches to get the general gist of a Jinneri pregnancy. It was fairly short, only about four months, and pretty straightforward. A female would lay an egg, then the egg would be fertilized, then implanted in either the male or female parent to hatch and incubate. Some chose to do two at a time, one in each parent. It wouldn't be too long, but it would be a little difficult.

After a few minutes, Rax finally responded.

"Alright, I'll do it."

. . .

After all the paperwork had been settled, doctors visited, the whole nine yards, it was finally done. Rax was back on the Osiris after having the small egg surgically implanted into him. He would have regular meeting with Unu and Irn, the Jinneri couple, and a doctor. For the next few weeks, the egg would grow rapidly and hatch inside of Rax, and then keep growing until it was ready to be born.

Rax ran his fingers over the little bulge in his belly. He'd squeezed himself into his bunk in his regular form, which was far more comfortable to be pregnant in, so he'd learned. Julian was playing a game on the bottom bunk. Rax heard the game pause, some creaking, and a head popped up to his bunk.

"So, five million credits huh?" Julian asked.

"Mm-hm," Rax nodded.

"Soooo . . . what does it feel like?" Julian said. "Like a normal Despian egg, or . . .?"

"Kind of? But more like there's a rock stuck in there, honestly. Despian eggs generate heat, but Jinneri are born cold-blooded, so it's sort of weird. Like it sucks up the warmth. I'll probably get used to it," Rax said. He looked over to see Julian staring at the little lump. "Whatcha looking at?"

Julian flushed bright red. "Uh-"

"You wanna feel?" Rax held his hand out.

Rax didn't think a human could get any redder, but they continued to surprise him. Julian placed his hand in Rax's, who guided it down to his lower stomach. Julian felt the bulge of the egg, about the size of a cantaloupe.

"So, I was thinking, since I'm gonna be taking it easy for a bit, wanna hang out on my ship later tonight?" Rax asked. He'd been meaning to ask Julian for a while. He'd had a bit of a thing for him for ages, and after the whole egg fiasco a few weeks ago, he figured Julian might too. Might as well shoot his shot.

Julian stuttered a bit, and lifted his hand off of Rax's belly. "U-uh sure, what did you want to do?"

"I got some games and and old Coriskian tablet with a bunch of old movies and junk on it," Rax said.

"Oh, cool. I heard those movies were super dumb but really funny," Julian said.

"Alright, meet me at the ship at 16:00, yeah?" Rax shimmied to the side and hopped off the bunk to go tidy up his ship.

. . .

Rax and Julian watched the projector from opposite sides of the seat. They were on a cushioned bench built into the wall of the ship, watching one of the Coriskian movies about some nuclear power plant that turned into a monster. Apparently weird nuclear mutation films were a universal genre. Julian munched popcorn, which he'd told Rax was a common human movie snack, and Rax idly traced circles around the egg with his thumb.

Rax glanced over, and Julian quickly snapped his head towards the projection, having been caught staring. Rax cracked a small smile and snuck his tail over towards Julian's side of the bench, before curling it around his back. Julian turned beet red. Rax scooted over a bit, and used his tail to coax Julian closer until they were hip to hip. Rax put an arm around Julian's shoulders and nabbed a few pieces of popcorn. Julian, still redder than Rax could ever imagine, leaned over onto him a little bit.

They stayed like that for a while before Julian decided it was his turn to get bold and put a hand on Rax's abdomen. Rax wrapped his tail tighter around Julian's waist, and soon they were practically on top of each other. It was awkward for a long moment before the two looked at each other, and their faces drifted closer, until-

BANG!

Neither of them had been paying any attention to the movie, and a loud noise from it caught them off guard. They sat in silence for another few moments before Julian finally spoke.

"Oh what the hell." Julian grabbed Rax's face and pulled it to his and kissed him. Rax took a moment to fully process what was going on, and kissed him back.

A knock at the ship door a few minutes later forced Rax and Julian to untangle themselves from each other. Rasha opened the door, saw the boys' ruffled hair and clothes, and immediately closed it again.

"Ah- wait, Rasha!" Rax ran to the door and opened it back up. "What did you need?"

"I was just gonna say that the checks from the last job are coming in tomorrow but you guys are finally having a thing so I'll leave you to alone," Rasha said, and turned to leave the docking bay.

Rax let her go, and reentered his ship to see Julian smoothing out his hair a little bit. He sat back down next to Julian and leaned back onto him. Julian leaned back, still feeling a bit awkward, before Rax practically tackled him and continued where they left off.

They didn't really go any farther than that, just kissed with the movie in the background, but it was enough for the both of them. They laid on the bench, and Julian held one hand on Rax's belly and the other on the back of his neck. Rax was on top of him, his tail around Julian's waist. They stayed there until the end of the movie, when Rax finally broke away.

"You know, i-it's getting pretty late," Julian said.

"Wanna sleep in here with me? I have a bed mat I can set up and we can have a little sleepover," Rax said. He got up and ran over to a shelf, and pulled out a big roll of springy blue foam.

Julian smiled. "Yeah, let's have a sleepover."

Once they'd gotten themselves situated on the mat, Rax turned to Julian. "So, Rasha said we were having a 'thing.''

"Are we having a thing?" Julian asked.

"I don't know, I've never had a thing before."

"Well I'd like it to be a thing, what about you?" Julian inched his hand closer to Rax's.

"Why not? I guess if that's what it is, then it's a thing." Rax put his hand on Julian's.

"Are you sure you want a thing with me, though? I mean, Despians are cool shapeshifters and I'm just a plain old human," Julian said.

"Dude, you literally watched me give birth without flinching. I think I want a thing with you." Rax smiled

"Then I guess it's a thing."

#cf osiris #rax #julian #they did not do the sex they just cuddled your honor #theyre just gay like that #mpreg #its a thing #fluff #im planning for this to be a short series very fluffy

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

hi loveee ur writings can you pls write an angst where y/n is a stripper and is insecure with her relationship with harry bc she thinks that he deserves so much better

*cracks knuckles" let's do this

this is very long and very unedited. enjoy!

tw: mentions of assault

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

You met Harry at a very precarious time in your life. You were confident enough in yourself to know that the assholes who wanted you didn't deserve you, but just insecure enough to believe that you were undeserving of a real prince charming, or that they would want nothing to do with you.

Growing up, you had dreams of grandeur: become a prima ballerina, live large in New York City, and one day meet someone who would sweep you off your feet. It was childish and perhaps a little naive, but growing up, those dreams were all you had, so you clung to them and hoped they would take you far away from the life that had been handed to you.

And they did, but they only took you so far.

Suffering an injury you wouldn't ever recover from was one of the toughest pills you ever had to swallow. You were so close to achieving your dreams: a good performing arts school, a hefty scholarship, a decent boyfriend (who turned out to not be so decent), and now you had nothing.

You had to drop out of school because you no longer had any art to perform, or enough money to pay for it. Before you knew it, you were out on the street, selling off personal item after personal item until you could afford to sleep in a cheap motel room and figure out how you were going to spend the rest of your life from there.

Those weeks were dark. You were hypervigilant on the street and in your motel, which made you exhausted and irritable during the day, but you did your best to cover it up and look like a model citizen so you could find a job. You wandered all over, trying and failing to find a job. At first, you wanted something respectable, like working as a waitress, or a receptionist, or a maid, or a nanny, but no one wanted to hire you. And the longer you went without a job, the more willing you became to find money. Whoever said that money didn't buy happiness was either a liar, had a lot of it, or both, because as someone with only a couple bills to your name, you were miserable.

It was in those deep, dark days that you came across her. A woman, perhaps a couple years older than you, leaning against the side of a brick building and having a smoke. She was pretty, with long legs and long blonde hair, though you were almost positive it was a wig. She was scantily dressed, too, which was odd for how chilly it was.

Having caught your stare, she glared at you. "What are you looking at?"

"N—Nothing. I wasn't looking," you said quickly, starting to move again.

"Wait a minute," she said, her voice silky smooth, with a slight husk from years of cigarette smoke in her lungs. "I've seen you around before. You looking for a job?"

You blanched. It didn't take you long to realize what the woman's profession was, or that she was now hinting that you could do the same. You didn't want to, your brain told you you could still find work elsewhere, but your stomach was very tired of vending machine snacks for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So you nodded, coming closer to the woman when she told you to.

She looked you over, examining you from head to toe. "You obviously don't have any experience as a stripper."

"No, but I can dance," you said, feeling the need to prove yourself to this woman all of a sudden.

"You're gonna need to bulk up a bit more. They like a little more meat on your bones, but...you have potential."

The woman pinned you with a stare, one you couldn't have looked away from if you tried. You realized then that she was older than you'd originally suspected. Not by a lot, but she was definitely closer to thirty as opposed to early or mid twenties. For a moment you wondered how long she'd been doing this for, if she ever had dreams of grandeur too.

"I'll vouch for you, help you get on your feet. But it's up to you to convince Derek you're fit for the job. Think you're up for it?"

Turns out you were up for it. You were a natural, working a pole or dancing on the club's stage. It wasn't the stage you used to dream about, but it was one that awarded you food and shelter, and those were your new dreams. Your new boss even leaned into your ballet training, your costumes always soft pinks and purples and your performances demure and innocent-appearing.

It was a gift and a curse. Customers were crazy about you, but some thought that your appearance was an extension of who you actually were. You received plenty of comments from older men about being taken care of, of them wanting you to be your little girl. The club you worked at ensured that no one touched you, but the words were enough to make your skin crawl and made you so paranoid that someone would follow you home that you slept with a knife under your bed.

Still, you wracked in tips, and made enough money to leave the motel and rent an apartment. It was cheap and basically a closet with a toilet, but it was yours, you'd earned it all by yourself. And you made friends with the other girls too. You came in early to cheer your friends on and stayed late so you could walk home together. It wasn't the family you envisioned yourself having, but these were your sisters, and though you used to consider stripping a "not respectable" occupation, there was no one you respected more than them.

It was your injury that set you back at times. You couldn't go one for as long as some of the other girls because your knee would start to hurt. Dancing at the strip club wasn't nearly as strenuous as ballet, but you were still putting more pressure and strain on it than you probably should've. It got to the point where Derek told you to see a doctor about it or he'd have to fire you for not bringing in enough revenue for the club, so you went on one of your off days, and that's when you met Harry.

He was the resident at the doctor's you went to, and you couldn't help but be smitten. He was kind, gentle, and spoke to you like an actual human being, something you hadn't heard from a man in a long time.

When he asked you what you were doing to make your already injured knee so angry with you, you couldn't help but lie. You didn't know why, but you just couldn't tell him what you really did for a living. He looked at you like an equal, and you just knew that telling him you were hurt because you worked as a stripper six out of seven days a week would make him look down at you.

He was skeptical when you told him you just ran a lot, but didn't ask you for more information. "Take these when it gets really bad, and schedule some physical therapy appointments with us, I think that'll really help."

You didn't have the money for physical therapy, but you nodded like you were going to do just that, not wanting to disappoint him.

From then on, you saw him sporadically. Every few weeks when you needed a new prescription, you'd go in, and each time he would tell you the same thing: lay off the running and go to physical therapy. There were moments where you thought he was flirting with you, but you told yourself that you were crazy. He was a doctor, your doctor, there was no way he'd be interested in you.

Your relationship changed slightly when you came into the doctor's office one day, this time accompanied by one of your friends. At the sight of your friend practically holding you up and the sound of you crying, the receptionist ushered you into an examination room and told you that Dr. Styles would be in shortly.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked when he came in.

Half your face was black and blue, your lip was split, and you were trembling in your friend's arms. Crying too hard, you couldn't form the words to answer your doctor's question, so your friend spoke up.

"You gotta help her, sir. She's in a bad way. I think she went into shock or somethin'."

He came closer, but when he tried to move your hair away from your face to get a better look, you flinched, huddling into your friend even more. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice gentle as it ever was. "I just need to see what I'm dealing with so I can help you. What's your name, Miss?"

"Daisy," your friend replied, though it wasn't actually. You all went by fake names at the club.

"It's nice to meet you, Daisy. Would you mind helping me? It seems she's comfortable with you touching her, so I just need you to hold her hair back while I get her face cleaned up and see if she needs stitches."

"Of course, sir."

Together, Harry and Daisy patched you up, starting with the top of your head and working their way down. There weren't very many cuts besides the gash on your cheekbone and your split lip, but there were a lot of bruises. On your neck, your wrists, half your abdomen.

"Is she in an abusive relationship?" he asked. You'd only ever come in for your knee, but this was completely out of control.

"Uh...No, sir. Just a bad day at work is all," Daisy said.

The truth was you were asked to dance in a private room tonight for a group of guys. Not uncommon, but the problem was with your bodyguard. Every dancer in a private room had one to ensure their safety and make sure that customers only looked and didn't touch. He was new, clearly not as experienced, and underestimated the power of unassuming young men. They knocked him out in an instant, and then their attention was on you.

Help came, but not soon enough. You'd never felt more violated your whole life. When more bodyguards came in and kicked the men out, your costume was in tatters, bruises forming everywhere.

By the time Harry patched you all up, Daisy had to leave and finish the rest of her shift. Derek allowed her to take her thirty minute break to get you help, but she had bills to pay too.

"Please don't go," you whispered, the first thing you said since you stopped screaming at the club. It hurt to speak, but you didn't want to be alone.

"I have to," Daisy said, sounding sorry, but not enough to oppose Derek and stay with you.

"I can't be alone right now. I can't—I don't want to walk by myself. It's the middle of the night, Daisy—"

"Wait, you're walking home alone?"

Harry had gone to write you another prescription for the pain, and you'd taken the opportunity to beg your friend not to leave you.

Hearing him come in shut you up, and you immediately curled back into yourself, not meeting his eyes.

"I have to go back to work," Daisy said. "I'm really sorry, Angel."

If you hadn't been terrified at the prospect of walking back to your apartment by yourself this late at night, you would've cringed at the way Daisy used your stage name instead of your real one, the one Harry knew.

"Wait here," he said suddenly.

A few minutes he came back with the receptionist. "This is Margaret. She said she'd drive you home. Would that be alright?"

Not seeing a better option, you nodded, and from there, everything was in motion. Daisy left, Harry went back to his office, and you and Margaret quietly got in your car. The older woman tried to ask you a few questions, but you didn't answer, blinking and staring out the passenger window until you fell asleep. When she came upon the address you gave her, her heart sunk. Picking up the phone, she called Harry.

"I can't in good conscience leave her here," she said into the phone as she looked around your neighborhood.

"Take her to my place. I have a guest room she can sleep in for the night," he said immediately. If Margaret didn't think you would be safe, then he would take her word for it. All he kept seeing was the broken look in your eyes. He missed the light, he missed seeing your smile.

Harry wasn't an idiot. He knew there was something going on with you, and now he was kicking himself for not intervening sooner. He still didn't know what you did exactly, but it obviously wasn't safe.

Bringing you to his place was a risk, seeing as you'd barely let him touch you, but it was one he was willing to take. After tending to you for a while, he cared about you, and seeing how badly you were hurt tonight made the urge to protect you even stronger. For the last few days, he'd been thinking of ways to casually ask you out for coffee, hoping you'd give him the time of day. You were kind and witty and beautiful, and he was waiting for the next time you'd come in and see if he had a chance, but now that was out of the question. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.

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

A month later, you were back to performing. You worried Derek would fire you since you couldn't perform with all the bruises you had, but he stuck you behind the bar and told you to make yourself useful behind the scenes. But now that you'd made a full physical recovery, you were back to stripping on the main stage of the club. The private rooms, which were closed because none of the other dancers wanted to give private shows after what happened to you, but enough time had passed that they were open for business again, with two security guards instead of one.

You still hadn't done a private show since that night, but you knew Derek would only have so much grace. You were quite popular with customers, and a lot of them wanted your undivided attention.

But for now you were focused on doing one dance at a time. Controlling your breaths and keeping your heart from beating too hard as you made eye contact with customers was your main priority, collecting tips at the end being the second. You didn't think you'd ever be completely comfortable stripping again, but you were as close as one got. The other girls helped you, two of them walking you home and standing guard while you changed in and out of your costumes. It was the little things that made you feel safe, and you were thankful that the people around you were doing what they could to help you heal.

One night, you were given one of the main slots for performances. Apparently there was a bachelor party, and the groom wanted to see you perform. It was longer, and you'd needed to come up with a couple new steps to really elevate your performance. You practiced a lot in your apartment, and you found yourself enjoying it a bit, something you hadn't felt since that night.

When it came time to get onstage, you didn't have any fear. Big performances like these meant everyone was quiet as they watched you dance, only cheering and whistling when you discarded your costume piece by piece until you were left in very flimsy lingerie.

You'd clocked the bachelor party when you walked onto the stage, but before you could get a good look at anyone but the groom, it was time for you to begin. You danced, letting the music move you about the stage and working customers for their bills. You made a point of going over to the bachelor party, all of which had lots of money in their hands. You meant to focus on the groom, but your eyes snagged on a different member of the party.

It was Harry, who looked just as shocked to see you in nothing but a lacy pink bodysuit as you would've looked had you not been in the middle of a performance. You felt weird dancing in front of the groom now, someone who was clearly Harry's friend, but it was the job.

Harry had helped you out a lot after the worst night of your life. He let you stay in his home for a few days until you were comfortable sleeping alone in your apartment again. He never asked questions about what happened or why, which you were thankful for, but you knew he wanted to.

It was fun playing house for a few days, and it took your mind off of everything that had happened. But of course life went on, and both of you had to go back to each of yours. You hadn't seen him since you left his place. When you came home, you were ashamed and embarrassed about having to need him so much. He was your doctor, not your friend, he shouldn't have had to do all that. You knew you probably should've thanked him for his kindness, he'd seen you at your absolute worst. You didn't know how to face him.

On stage while you were practically naked wasn't how you wanted to see him for the first time in a month, but life was funny like that.

When the performance was over, you were quick to leave the stage, letting the club staff collect all the bills that landed around you. Now that you were alone, you could freak out properly.

"Hey, Angel, isn't that your doctor over there?" Daisy asked you, pointing to where Harry was visible from the side of the stage.

You nodded, but still couldn't find the words to speak.

"That's your doctor? Damn, where do you go? I want to go there too," another one of the girls said. Before long, everyone but the girl who was next to perform was huddled around you, eyeing Harry and talking about how cute he was.

"He looks like one of those doctors on TV!"

"Did you see those dimples?"

"God I hope he asks for a private dance."

"Hey, this is Angel's man. She met him first," Daisy said, cutting through all the oggling.

He wasn't your man, but damn if a small part of you didn't want him to be.

"He's a doctor, you guys. He's not interested in girls like us," you said glumly.

"Speak for yourself," one of the girls said, looking at you incredulously. "I am a catch. Dr. Sexy over there should be so lucky."

All the other girls agreed, and while you admired, and somewhat envied, their confidence, you didn't agree. You were used goods, and you had nothing going for you except your next performance. Harry would never go for someone like you.

Thoughts of Harry were wiped from your mind when Derek came backstage and told you you'd been requested for a private dance. Your blood ran cold, fear sinking like a rock in the pit of your stomach. You knew this day was coming, but knowing that Harry was somewhere in the club while you did a private dance for someone somehow made it worse.

Steeling yourself, you slipped on the robe you used for private performances, and followed Derek back to one of the rooms. Being flanked by two huge bodyguards helped, but you were still nervous. And when the door opened, your heart sunk to your feet.

It was Harry. He was sitting in one of the plush chairs for customers.

You thought he was different, but how well did you really know him? Not meeting his eye, you made your way over to the stage to begin your dance.

"Wait! You don't—You don't have to do that," he said when you started peeling off your robe and reached out to stop you.

"Customers aren't allowed to touch the dancers," you said, like you were repeating it from some kind of handbook.

"No, sorry, that's not what I—that's not what I meant. Not at all," he said in a rush. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"You...ordered a private room so you could talk to me?"

"Yes, I thought this was the only way I could get you alone. Is it possible for us to talk privately without...listeners?"

"The guards stay," you said. You couldn't believe he just asked you that.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I must've sounded so insensitive just now," he said. He looked nervous. Scratching the back of his neck and not meeting your eyes.

"I've missed you coming by the office. Is that a weird thing to say?" he said suddenly, pink blooming on his cheeks.

"What do you want, Harry?" you asked, only feeling slightly bad for your short tone. But you were embarrassed enough as it was. Why he felt the need to prolong this terribly awkward moment was beyond you.

"I—I understand it's maybe not the most appropriate time, but I've actually wanted to do this for a long time, and—and you not coming to the office as much is actually helpful because doctors aren’t supposed to date their patients obviously—"

"Wait a minute," you said, stopping him before he got ahead of himself. "You're not asking me out or something like that are you?"

"Well, I'm trying, but the very large men glaring at me are slightly intimidating and not helping me find my words at all."

Harry certainly looked serious, but you couldn't quite believe him. "You don't want to date me, Harry."

"What do you mean? Of course I do. That's what I'm trying to get at here."

Was he really that dense? "Look at where we are. In what world would you want to go out with someone like me?"

You didn't like that he was playing with you this way, you almost would've preferred giving him a private dance.

“Y/n, I—I don't care about what you do for a living. If this is how you make money, that's fine with me, but don't tell me who I do and don't want to date. I like you, and if you give me a chance, I think you might really like me too."

Hearing Harry use your actual name and not your stage name made you want to cry.

Since getting this job, you'd let go of a lot of your childhood dreams. Hoping that your Prince Charming would one day come and sweep you off your feet was one of the first to go. Working in a strip club made you lose faith in men, in the world, and now, here was this perfectly decent man, asking you on a date while you were barely dressed. It was then that you noticed his eyes never dipped down once, looking at only your face the entire time you spoke. It shouldn't have mattered to you, should've been the bare minimum, but it did. In your world, it definitely did.

"I don't know what I deserved to meet someone like you, but thank you," you said, subtly trying to wipe a tear from your eye.

"Kindness isn't something you deserve, Y/n. It should be freely given."

You chose to believe he wasn't just saying all of this stuff, that he actually meant it. Maybe you would live to regret it, but you needed a bit of happiness in your life.

"Okay."

"Okay? Like, you're saying yes?" Harry looked and sounded like he couldn't quite believe it.

You nodded. "Yes. Just one date."

"I'm sure you'll change your mind about that on the future, but I'll take it," he said, his grin brighter than you'd ever seen it.

You felt something flutter in your stomach, something that felt like hope. You knew it was probably foolish to give the man in front of you a chance, but you liked this feeling you were feeling.

“Time's up," you said, but neither of you made any moves to leave.

"I'm sure I'll see you again."

You couldn't wait.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles x stripper! yn

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tornrose24 · 3 months

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TGAMM Aladdin AU ideas part 1

Was thinking of those TGAMM Aladdin AU doodles I made and thought of adding more details to that AU:

-This version of Agrabah used to be ruled by a tyrant (the Chairman) with an iron fist until the Chen family overthrew and disposed of him. While Reuben and Esther are far more benevolent in comparison as rulers, the kingdom is still slowly recovering and is a shadow of what it once was.

-Jinx liked how things were ran under the old ruler and wants to overthrow the Chen family and claim the throne. This is where her need to find the lamp would come in.

-The McGees aren’t poor, but they are just barely getting by. Pete desires to restore the kingdom to its glory days and he and Sharon do whatever they can to make money. Molly is the same way. Darryl is still getting into shady stuff to make money the easy way, but tends to get cheated out of whatever he makes.

-Esther and Reuben are seeking potential future brides for their son and to form a political alliance that could help the kingdom. Ollie would rather focus on restoring the kingdom without resorting to that. June is more of an inventor who keeps to herself and has no interest in getting married off either.

-Molly and Libby are still good friends, and Libby’s mother is also barely getting by as a bookseller and poet for hire. Especially after her husband abandoned their family.

-Andrea is one of the potential brides who doesn’t make the cut. (She’s secretly relieved because she already has her eye on someone else).

-I did not assign anyone to Dalia’s role, because I’m leaving that spot open for anyone’s self-insert/oc.

-The way Molly and Ollie meet up would be like in the 2019 film, which would also involve trying to get her brother out of trouble. (Again.) Like in the 2019 film, she would sneak into the palace to meet up with Ollie, who is trying to pass himself off as a servant. Molly is aided by her brother and Libby in sneaking into the palace.

-The two bond over wanting to help the kingdom's people and to restore it back to what it used to be.

-Molly sneaking into the palace is what gets Jinx’s attention. The woman has Molly, Libby, and Darryle captured and claims that she will only let them go without being reported on IF Molly enters the Cave of Wonders. She doesn’t bother mentioning the real identity of the boy Molly visited since its a waste of her time.

-The trio do find a magic carpet.

–Molly finds the lamp. However Darryl is the one who tries to take some treasure for himself, which triggers the collapse.

-While the magic carpet gets Darryl and Libby out of the cave, Molly gets knocked off at one point and becomes trapped. The carpet leaves so fast that Jinx doesn’t see it happen and assumes that her efforts were all for nothing.

-So yeah, no surprise–Scratch is the genie of the lamp. And he is NOT happy that his new master is a very excited young girl who is delighted to have made a new friend who has magic.

-She still manages to trick him into getting her out of the cave and back home though.

-So desperate to get rid of Molly, Scratch tells her about the three wishes and fully intends to screw her over with each one. Except there’s 2 problems. One is that Molly realizes that she has way too many wishes (mostly to better her kingdom) and cannot narrow them down to save her life. The other is that she doesn’t want to lose Scratch THAT fast and refuses to actually make any wishes until she knows for sure what she wants.

-Naturally, he is NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS.

-Scratch has a much easier time granting wishes of Molly’s very shocked, but also delighted family, though they quickly wise up to the fact that he’s screwing them over on a few.

-He has even less luck with Libby who is VERY genre savvy about genies. She has to coach Molly on how to approach the matter when she is ready.

-Eventually Molly remembers Ollie and tries to go see him, only to find out that he is in fact the crown prince. She is crushed since she hasn’t seen him since before the cave, but there’s no way she can see him if she’s not even a child of nobility.

-However she knows that he cares about the kingdom as much as she does, and decides upon a wish that can do a lot of good. One that can be both selfless AND selfish.

-Molly tells Scratch that she wants him to turn her into a princess. One wealthy enough to gift the kingdom with enough money and goods to keep it going for a decade or two. If she gets the royal family’s attention, she can visit Ollie once more. Scratch is not entirely impressed with the plan, especially after realizing Molly has a crush on the boy, but hey she’s finally making a wish.

-Molly then makes an offer–since she’s had a hard time coming up with wishes, she will use her final wish for Scratch. Whatever he truly wants, she will wish it for him. He admits that he doesn’t exactly enjoy being forced to grant others wishes and wants to be freed from the job. He’s surprised at Molly’s offer, though he’s sure it won’t come to pass.

-However what he does NOT tell Molly is that if he is freed from the lamp, he will be reduced to a powerless mortal capable of dying and without a place to call home, and that idea terrifies him.

-So Scratch grants Molly’s first wish, even if he’s pretty sure its not entirely going to end well. He turns himself into a human and passes himself off as her advisor to keep an eye on things (and to get a front-row seat because this is BOUND to be somewhat entertaining). Libby also wants in and is made Molly’s handmaiden since she doesn’t want a large role that also forces her into the spotlight.

As for what happens next… well, keep an eye out for part 2.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #aladdin au #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #libby stein torres #ollie chen

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