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#i like this one where you make songs with animal noises
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Tom Ryder x fem!reader
Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.
Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)
Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.
The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."
Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"
"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.
"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands. 
You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye. 
Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more. 
Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it. 
Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does. 
Only this time he did and he's not alone. 
Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.
He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you. 
How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy? 
You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils. 
Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.
"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals. 
"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"
Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise. 
Someone put you out of your misery now.
The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior.. 
"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic. 
"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here." 
You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.
"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite." 
Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom. 
"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you." 
But you might just kill him.
Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped. 
The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place. 
You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring. 
His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously. 
The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach. 
You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating. 
 The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor. 
Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent. 
Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.
He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.   
He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.
"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.
You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance. 
Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord. 
With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping. 
You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building. 
What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that? 
"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk. 
"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said. 
Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then." 
You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.
However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"
You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."
Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine. 
You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."
You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy. 
Shit. 
"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."
You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.
"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"
Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip. 
Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.
Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—" 
You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him. 
Again. 
"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.
There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes. 
No way. 
You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.
Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."
You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears. 
* * * 
When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse. 
You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up. 
"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—" 
"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar. 
"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!" 
You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream. 
"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.
"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man." 
Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!" 
Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"
You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."
"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."
You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.
The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat. 
Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer. 
You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?" 
Shit, shit, shit. 
This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit. 
He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones. 
He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like. 
Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera. 
Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone. 
You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes. 
He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes. 
You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara. 
"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes. 
"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned. 
Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."
You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me." 
He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—" 
Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara. 
"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained. 
"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."
Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips. 
"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"  
"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him. 
You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore. 
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–" 
He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"
He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."
"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.   
"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all." 
"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him. 
"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."
You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours." 
"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny." 
Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor." 
You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."
You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.
"But—" 
"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him. 
"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."  
Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart. 
"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note. 
"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing. 
Idiot. 
"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name. 
"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask. 
Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."
Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?" 
Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself. 
You can't help but chuckle. 
"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me." 
You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans. 
You're so very screwed.
You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care. 
That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.
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ampharos-posts · 2 years
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sobbing and crying
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cabbagecrunt · 5 days
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my dear followers. watch me play osu
#crunchposts#(hi chat open the tags to see me ramble about my favorite animators)#this is currently my favorite beatmap#btw the video is called yoruwa honoka go watch it on youtube. and check out more of zemyatas animations and more of eves music#eve made chainsaw man ending 12 fight song youshould watch the original mv for it too#i love music and animation and clicking buttons to make clacky noises rrrrrhghgrhghrghg autisms at you autisms at you autisms at you#this FULL LENGTH MUSIC VIDEO was animated by ONE PERSON like zemyata even did the backgrounds and effects and everything!#same with fight song and a number of eve's music videos mariyasu is incredibleeeeeee#theyre currently working on a new eve mv AND a new manga series AND recently made a bunch of promotional art/merch designs#like damn i hope theyre getting paid super well and giving their hands proper rest! and i hope they love what they do!!!!#goddd and zemyata started out as an animation meme youtuber n im guessing what happened is that after he made his own mvs#(sushi slayer and its ok to envy)#they were so epic poggers that a couple music producers saw em and went hire this man 🫵#it makes me feel super inspired!! i wanna be Seen and Offered an Opportunity to Make Something Awesome!!!!!#god and i love his video where he reanimated his first animation its INSANE how much he improved within 4 years#like i could do that.... i could do that#realistically though theres no way i could ever work on one project long enough to make a full animated music video hgkjshfsg#GAAAAAAAAAHHH I JUST REMEMBERED THE OFFICIAL MV I SAW THAT WAS ENTIRELY DONE IN FLIPNOTE 3D i gotta stop rambling though#going back to osu going back to osu#full 3 minutes of flipnote animation........ froths at the mouth#im gonna play this song again i wanna get an A#UPDATE I GOT AN S LMAO
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hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.
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I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.
Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:
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I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?
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It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—
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—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.
Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like
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For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!
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The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.
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After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.
I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.
I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.
I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.
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After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.
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She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.
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I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.
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Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.
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I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)
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I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...
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lovelettersfromluna · 2 months
Text
Not Strong Enough
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Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.
an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍
Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!
Read part 1 here!!
Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.
Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.
She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.
But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.
Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.
Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.
She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.
She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.
Ellieeeeee
Where are you?
Haven’t seen u in the longest :((
Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.
At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.
Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.
Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.
Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.
As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.
It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.
She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.
And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.
But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.
She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.
You always remind her though.
Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.
She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.
If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.
“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.
She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.
Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.
Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.
And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.
Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.
But you knew immediately that this was different.
The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.
So, why did you feel so bad that morning?
You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?
As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.
You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.
And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.
Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.
With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.
To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.
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You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.
Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.
You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.
Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.
You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.
And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.
It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.
You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.
Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.
Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.
All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.
Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.
“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.
“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.
She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.
You however, have other plans.
You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.
Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.
“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.
Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.
Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.
You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.
“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.
But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.
When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.
“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.
Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.
It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.
Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.
She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.
So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.
Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.
“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.
You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.
Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.
She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.
“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.
And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.
Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.
It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.
Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.
“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.
It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.
“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.
“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.
“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.
She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.
“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.
You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.
“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.
You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?
Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.
She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.
“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for��not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.
“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.
“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.
“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.
You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.
“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.
She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.
“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.
And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.
And you have no choice, but to kiss her.
It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.
It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.
Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.
“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.
You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.
“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.
“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.
But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.
And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.
“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.
“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.
Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.
“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.
“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.
Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.
Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.
You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.
You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.
“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.
“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.
Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.
And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.
You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.
It made your head fucking spin.
You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.
“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.
Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.
“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.
“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….
“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.
You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.
Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.
“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.
She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.
“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.
“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.
Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.
Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.
You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.
She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.
“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.
“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.
And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.
You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.
“I love you, pretty girl..”
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pathologicalreid · 1 month
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Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!
work song | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.
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boys, when my baby found me
Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.
A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.
Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.
You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.
Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.
The other one was Spencer.
You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.
I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her
In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”
Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.
He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.
Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.
You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.
Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.
“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”
Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.
He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”
Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”
in the low lamplight I was free
His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.
Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.
“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.
His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.
You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.
when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth
At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.
This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.
Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.
You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.
Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.
Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.
You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.
Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.
Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.
“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”
While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.
You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.
no grave can hold my body down
Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.
According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.
Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.
You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.
Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.
At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.
There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.
You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”
He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.
Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.
Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”
I’ll crawl home to her
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anadiasmount · 5 months
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what we started - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: based on this request! while you expected it, you didn’t anticipated it for it to hurt this much. when you’re at you’re lowest is it possible for him to lift you back up? to continue his promise of his underlying love for you? even though he's your brother's best friend?
wc: 4.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa🗣️: HAIII!! missed you all! hope everyone spent their breaks and or holidays well spent! here’s a brothers bsf trope fic just bc 🤭 jealous jude and slightly possesive if you squint. bold+italics are lyrics from cool about it by boygenious! i hope you enjoy!🤍
you let out a breath of fresh air, more than thankful to finally get out for winter break. It was a long semester, and don't get started on finals week. you felt like your head would explode any second if you didn't get home in the next hour. no more studying and notes for the next two weeks, just finally getting to sleep in and relax. 
the trip home was easy and quick to your surprise, giving you a chance to get some snacks along the way so you could eat while watching a movie later on. you blocked out any noise from outside, listening to the song cool about it by boygenious which played loudly on your phone, was it a good idea even though your head hurt? yes, yes it was. 
your eyebrows squinted at the amount of cars parked in the driveway and sidewalk. quickly realizing that your brother's friends and yours were here. you groan inwardly, finally thinking you had a moment of peace but were proven wrong. as much as you loved them, and still a certain individual, you wanted to be alone for the night. just you and your stuffed animals. 
before opening the door, a sudden wave of nervousness arrived upon you. your body was telling you to go inside and greet everyone, but then again your head spoke differently and decided to make you overthink. as you reached for the knob you pulled your hand back, was he here? the man you'd avoided since he broke up with you three months ago? 
jude. he was all you thought about despite it hurting. he was a forbidden man you couldn't date, made clear by your brother especially. yet that didn't stop you from going to him. to start a relationship that soon went south. not even a year you lasted together. it was all too complicated for you and him. the man you once snuck into your room so you could spend time with, could now be standing inside the door in front of you. 
with much bravery and courage, and a little pep talk you unlocked the door and felt the warm air rush upon you. you quickly turned to the rack and took off your scarf and long trench coat, fixing the material so you could avoid the cheers and greetings from your friends behind you. you wiped your hands on your jeans smiling and waving at everyone. 
“y/n! you made it!” your friend spoke as she rushed over and almost tumbled you to the ground. “yes i’m here, finally out for the break,” you let out hugging her tight as you still avoided the other faces. you looked around and saw everyone, your heart beating quicker as you locked eyes with familiar brown ones. the ones that taunted your dreams and in real life. 
the unwanted memories of when you were together, the first night at the bar where he’d seen you after so long, the sneaking around to avoid getting caught but added a thrill, the late-night kisses mixed with ice cream, going to his home to see his family, and that night he cut things off, leaving you speechless and thinking you were the reason for it. your chest tightened at the familiar memories, blinking away the tears and thoughts of the things that once happened. 
met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool. and make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos. ask you easy questions about work and school.
you looked away rapidly, but jude's gaze followed you to where you were now seated on the couch, unable to look away. despite it being only three months, you looked so pretty and beautiful to him, your hair slightly longer than last time, still his y/n. your brother's little sister that he grew up along with. the one he teased and made fun of till he realized that was no longer the case. maturing was realizing that all along it was you that brought out the best in him. 
you spoke quietly among with the girls, discussing future plans for the new year, going shopping, to dinner, maybe travel somewhere, and go clubbing to find you a man, your friends words not yours, to which jude clenched his jaw tight. he didn't care if it was only three months, it still bothered him to hear you speak of any man that wasn't him. 
jude kept eavesdropping at your conversation with everyone, even though he was playing video games with your brother. “we're so glad you are here! We missed you so much it felt like ages the last time we saw you, since you're either busy with school or alone in your room,” your friend said which made you giggle nervously and play with your charm bracelet. 
jude kept quiet but kept sideyeing to see your every move. he knew you didn't feel comfortable, and slightly anxious at the amount of people surrounding you that kept asking you questions. if you were together still, he would have pulled you away from everyone making an excuse to be alone. but that wasn't the case anymore and here he was listening to your quiet and shy voice. “we just ordered pizza and wings. will you be joining us?” ask your friend. 
“uhm not tonight. i have plans made already with a uni lad, to go out for celebratory drinks, and i promised him i would go,” you said making your friend let out a small protest, but then gasp. “is he the guy you were telling me about? tall and wavy hair? the finance student?” your other friend asked in a small whisper, to which you nodded slowly and looked away embarrassed. 
jude smiled painfully, leaning back onto the couch, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, then biting the inside of his lip. he was having a hard time controlling his facial expressions, eyes digging holes into you, anger and jealousy washed upon him, fighting the urge to call you out. although he had no right to talk as he knew he had done the same and hung out with other girls. yet jude still felt hurt, sick to his stomach picturing a different man in your life, the urge to scream, to punch a wall, or maybe himself to knock sense into him. 
i'm trying to be cool about it. feelin' like an absolute fool about it. wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it. tellin' myself i can always do without it. knowin' that it probably isn't true. 
you had to lie on the spot, having to accept jax’s invite for drinks. you could no longer stand looking or being in the same room as him. having to feel his eyes on you every minute that passed by. you felt like crying, it was still fairly new to you, but you couldn't even tell your friends because they didn't know about you or jude. You thought you were safe, that you could've handled it, but your body was continuing to process the break up, to hear and see about the girls he hung out with, that looked nothing like you. 
you tried to forget, to forget him for the sake of your brother and friend group. however seeing him thrive in another country surrounded by the support you craved angered you. you knew part of the breakup was your fault, for failing to communicate, to be there for him. but what about those times you needed him and he wasn't there? even from the start the signs were there, you just let yourself get involved to finally be happy, to have him, to love him. 
but i'm trying to forget about it. feelin' like i'm breaking a sweat about it. wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it. tellin' myself one day i'll forget about it. knowin' that it probably isn't true. 
after grabbing a quick drink from the kitchen you walked upstairs to your room, quickly glancing at jude who had a foul scowl on his face, cold eyes, and grim mouth. you debated whether you should go or stay here. your thumb hesitated to text jax and let him know you were going. yet again your body was speaking and letting you know it wouldn't be a good idea. 
you felt so out of place and not yourself, the shock of seeing jude still running through your head. you took a seat on the small bench at the end of your bed, head in your hands as you tried to control your breathing and tears that wanted to release. you let out a small gasp at a knock at your door, standing up and wipe away the one tear that let out, being faced with the man you wanted to avoid. 
“y/n…” jude's voice was gentle and soft as he said your name, closing the door and locking it. you ignored him, your hands rubbing your arms as you felt locked in. the world went quiet when he was with you, just the two of you longing for each other. “y/n look at me baby…” his voice rasped out as he walked close to you, but you walked back to create a distance. you painfully laugh and glance up, the lights suddenly dim. “you shouldn't be here, collin can walk in at any minute,” you remark. 
and now i have to act like i can't read your mind. i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie. but we don't have to talk about it. 
“i don’t care. let him walk in.” 
“jude-”
“i wanna talk, please? i know this feels strange, trust me i feel the same, but it's what we need,” jude says in a relaxed manner, making you mad at the audacity he had to demand things. “no it's what you need. trust me i'm fine, more than okay at where we currently stand,” you say smiling angrily. jude cocked his head to the side, becoming slightly agitated. “really? you wanna do this? i'm not okay where we stand, if anything i want to fix this, us, for the sake of our friends,” he spits out. 
“you want to come in here, and “try” to fix things for our friends?” you quote with your fingers and scoff, “that's the only thing that ever mattered to you! what everyone thinks, your friends, family, your fans, it's all you care about,” you said loudly, running a hand along your forehead and massaging your temples feeling your headache come back. 
“seriously, you wanna bring that up right now?” he looked away laughing, before bringing his attention back to you. you rolled your eyes at his attitude, shaking your head and playing with your charm bracelet once again. this was another reason probably, the constant arguments that you had together that made it not work. “you wanted to talk, so yeah i did bring that up.”
“fine let's talk about jack? or was it jax? the finance student you're going out with tonight? how do you want me to be cool about it? how would your brother feel if i told him?” jude crossed his arms, waiting for you to answer as a few moments of silence passed by. “you're being unreasonable. what does that have to do with our friends?” you asked with a face plastered with confusion.
“for starters, he's going to be around us if you date him,” your eyes widened at his words lips pursing open but continued to listen to him. “i think collin would love to know about this as well. and i wanna know who he is. who is this jax?” jude asked carefully furrowing his brows in a questioning manner, but it made you clench your jaw and swallow the hurtful words that wanted to be spilled. 
i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning. tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing. even though we know it isn't true. 
“you have no right to ask me anything anymore? you broke up with me remember?” you pointed at yourself as you walked closer to him. “i get what i did wasn’t what you expected but do you really want me to sit here and tell you it doesn’t hurt to see you hook up with different girls? it’s a date jude. a date.” 
you grabbed your jacket and sighed in disbelief. you wanted to leave as soon as possible, you loved your friends but right now you wanted to be far from jude. even three months after breaking up, it felt freshly new to see him again. it ripped open the old scars and you weren’t used to it. before you could leave, jude stopped you by the door. 
“it’s not fair. i used to beg to get your attention, for you to talk to me! all i asked was to talk! a minute out your day, to tell me how you felt to hear your voice! you think it doesn’t hurt me? to see you move on? to hear from our friends, not from you, OUR friends, that you’re going on a date?” jude spit out with fury, and now you were becoming afraid that your friends downstairs would hear you guys. especially collin. 
“we didn’t work jude! you said so yourself that night. you didn’t give me a chance for me to explain myself! you thought of you and only you! i’m sorry i couldn’t give you what you wanted, i tried i did! but you were never there!” you said loudly, the bubble in your throat increasing by the second. 
“you never gave me the chance. you always had the mindset my brother would find out about us, and that’s the only thing that mattered to you! we couldn’t go out, and when we tried it was always an excuse for each of us. we weren’t meant to be,” you said without of breath, your heart now beating faster. 
“so now it’s my fault?” jude scoffed in disbelief, and threw his hands in the air desperately. 
“you’re being ridiculous,” you threw your head back in annoyance, “i'm trying to tell you how i feel about it all. it's what you're asking right? for me to be open with you even though it's too late? we both know jude, i don’t know why you keep wasting your time with me. like you said that night, to you i will always be collin’s little sister,” you say, your voice breaking. jude felt like he would break, to see you crying again, he wanted to take it all back, that night back, and fight for you harder. 
“y/n-”
“you’ll never understand what’s its like. to not be able to have your voice heard? to be that child that’s just there? to have so many people come over but greet you because they feel forced to. is that why you dated me, because you felt sorry for me?” you asked, jude immediately shaking his head. 
a knock came from the door, you and jude quickly glanced at each other worried, “i’m sorry to disturb, but collin came back from outside and he’s asking for you jude,” your friend said with a low voice, giving you a small smile reassuring you she wouldn't say anything about what she heard. “don’t worry, we were just finished, he’s all yours jude,” you said sarcastically, then walked down the stairs as jude chased you after you. 
there was still so much to be said, and he didn't want you to leave thinking he was only with you because of that. it wasn’t true, he was with you because he loved you. not because you were his little sister or because he felt sorry for you, but because for once in his life he finally found someone who brought more happiness to him than anyone else could. 
“maybe it's for the best,” your friend spoke quietly to him, patting a hand on his shoulder. jude watched you walk out again from his life, this time you weren't standing alone, but instead with a man who could probably give you all you deserved. although he still refused to lay on these terms, no matter who you were with, a part of you will always be linked to him. 
“jude hurry up man! the game is starting soon!,” he was forced out of his thoughts, sending a false smile to your oblivious brother. collin had no idea of the two of you, and never suspected anything which made jude’s guilt rise even more. even after repeatedly saying you were off limits, something about you couldn't keep jude away. he knew it was wrong, to fall for his best mate's sister, but why did it feel so right? like you were the person destined to meet jude?
you wouldn’t even give jax a chance even if he was the last man on earth. despite being the perfect match for you, something inside you always loved jude. you had two boyfriends before jude, and the each taught you something. at the early stages with jude, it felt careless, two rebel teens chasing for love. but you wanted security, and you struggled to communicate that, pushing him away because you could never fully speak it or let it be known. 
the so-called date went fine, but your mind kept tracing back to seeing jude after three months, him in your room, his tearful eyes watching you leave to be here with jax. it pained you to see him hurt again because of you again. you also knew it wasn't right to lead jax on, to be here so you could escape the curly-headed man that was probably still at your home. 
jax did understand though, a man can always sense when a woman isn't interested, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or forced. after a long shared night filled with laughter and deep talks, he kissed your cheek and wished you the best of luck. “If you need anything, please dont hesitate to reach out, okay?” he gave you knowing eyes, making you laugh an nod. 
“thank you once again! be safe! and let me know when you are home!” you waved him goodbye and unlocked the door to your home for the second time that evening. it was around eleven pm, the cars that once filled your driveway were gone. you sighed comfortably at the house being silent, thankful the living room was cleaned, and the kitchen besides the dishes. 
you still weren't sleepy, as you were used to being up at this time to review material for your classes. you quickly washed them, and also dried a set of laundry to be fixed in the morning. you went upstairs and took a quick shower with hot water to soothe the aching muscles and headache. after changing into a silk camisole, you get startled by the doorbell. You tuck yourself into the covers like a little kid, reaching for your phone as it buzzed. 
open the door for me. i'm outside. 
you let out a deep breath, quickly slipping downstairs and opening the door letting jude in who was now wearing a full black nike tracksuit. your eyes stared into his intently, feeling your pulse race just by looking at his handsome features. “you’re back again?” you asked quietly walking back upstairs, jude following behind. 
“we didn’t get to finish talking. i didn't want to go back to spain the way were,” he replied closing the door and walked over to where you were sat, on the small bench by your bed. you stared at the ground, as jude rubbed his hand on your thigh in a comfort manner. he let out a deep sigh that made you lean your head on his shoulder.  
“it wasn’t true. i didn’t date you because i felt sorry for you. i fell over heels for the woman who once in my life loved me for who i was, and gave me the chance to be who i am without caring. i know it seemed like i cared about others, but all i wanted was to protect you from the harm they could do to us. but in the end it was us who caused it,” jude joked which made you let out a stifled small laugh. 
“i'm sorry y/n. for what i said to you that night and those past times. if i could take it all back i would. you didn't deserve that, and it hurts me because i'm the reason for it, “ jude said painfully, he struggled to find the words. you pulled back from his shoulder, walking around to sit yourself on his lap, to wipe the tear that escaped his pretty brown eyes. he had been crying before coming here, his eyes sunken and bloodshot red. “don’t cry jude…”
“do you still love me?” he asked unsurely, biting his lip. he looked up almost taking your silence as a painful answer, but was rewarded with you nodding. “so so much, i can’t not stop loving you and its scary because we both live different worlds. those times where you just wanted a small answer and i couldn't give it to you? i'm sorry for making you feel like that, for not making you feel wanted, i thought… i thought…” you sniffled and broke into a small sob, tears coming down your cold cheeks. 
“hey, hey, hey, shh baby it's okay… just take deep breaths… it's just me and you okay?” jude gabbed your hands and kissed them gently, “don't blame just yourself, we both faulted our breakup, it wasn't meant to be then, but now that we learned from that we can avoid it,” he said with a small sad smile. 
“when you left again, everything felt unexplored and out of place. i sat by my window and lingered for you to come back, like those times you snuck in here… i took lengthier ways to school to avoid the areas we once walked by. i even ate those stupid gummy worms you love so much,” you said sniffling and laughing. “i can’t do that anymore, because i want you back jude. every second that passed by without you, it hurt me. it still does knowing it feels like were strangers again.”
jude's eyes went wild at your admission, “i get that part of it was because i couldn't communicate, and i'm working on that. you just have to trust me and give me some time, it all felt so rushed and sudden, and i thought you cared about them and not me at times,” you finally said after waiting almost a year to say. 
“i will always care about you. when i left that night i knew i made a mistake. i felt like an idiot because i know you struggled at times to say what you wanted. and i know i only thought of me but i promise it isnt going to be like that anymore, baby. as long as we can work and talk it out, that's what matters most to us right?” you nodded to his question. 
“no more caring about what they think. as long as were both happy and in love, it will keep me sane. that day will come, but when times right,” jude continued referring to telling your friends and brother. “i hope you know i don't regret a single thing of it, for falling in love with you despite you being my best friend's sister,” he smirked. “good because at the end of the day, knowing its forbidden, it feels right being with you like this. here alone where it's just us…” you say shyly. 
“my shy girl still hasn't changed has she? still so shy that she can't even look at me properly when i’m trying to admire her beauty,” jude teased you which made you shake your head. “although she wasn't so shy when she left for jack? or was it jax?” jude frowned. “he’s nothing, just an excuse for me to not see you…” you smiled evilly as you confessed. 
“so nothing’s going on with you and jack? or jax was it?” he asked teasingly, making you smack his shoulder playfully. “no now stop i before it does become something serious,” you warn him to which he gives you a taken-at-back look. “not while you’re still mine baby… always have been and always will be. let jack or jax know that, ” jude said seriously, kissing your jawline. 
you sunk into his warm embrace, feeling at home and safe in his arms. “who would’ve thought i’d be with my brother's best friend huh?” you say feeling his warm soft lips trace from your jaw to your lips. “definitely not me,” jude said shaking his head no, paying attention to the small shiver you released as he kissed your pulse. you had to hold back the small moan that wanted to release at his next words and movements. 
“kiss me y/n. exactly how you want and need.” 
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delinquentfiction · 3 months
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Dancing Lessons With the Radio Demon
Content: Alastor x GN!Reader, no use of y/n, size difference mentions, reader is sleepy, fluff
Word count: 2,076
No trigger warnings
The bed creaks slightly as you turn and wiggle on it, trying to get into a comfortable spot. Unfortunately, despite the pure exhaustion from your day of running errands for the hotel and essentially being the gofer, your brain refuses to allow you to slip into sweet unconsciousness. It has now gotten to that lovely part of restlessness where no matter how you lay, no matter how long you stare at your phone to distract yourself, you cannot get comfortable. At this point there is nothing you can think of but to get up and find something to do and hope that something is enough to help your brain calm down. You don’t care if you fall asleep walking down the stairs as long as you get a wink.
You wrap your blanket around yourself before leaving the bed, not willing to part with it. Once up and walking you felt like one of those edited cat memes with those dumb relatable captions. One of the good things from life that still made it down into Hell. Cats look different down here and look slightly terrifying with their shark-like 4-way opening mouths, but they’re cats nonetheless.
Once in the hall, you somehow feel like you’re stomping and floating at the same time. Not awake enough to be fully aware, but aware enough of how your walking is the only noise being made. At least in the part of the hotel you reside in. As you meander around and approach the grand staircase, you hear the faint sounds of piano and sax playing a slow jazzy tune. Right then you were reminded that there would be only one other person awake at this hour. A person a little too chipper for the state you were in, but at least it would be company.
You recalled how when you were alive people would say that sometimes it would be hard to sleep because your brain feels like it’s in danger and having someone there or having a stuffed animal can help. Things that trick your brain into thinking you’re protected. Would you feel safe around this ever smiling demon? Would the same logic even carry over now that you’re a demon? Well, you’re going to find out.
As you wander up the hotel floors the song becomes louder and the air seems to feel thicker. It’s not as if it’s never been ominous to visit Alastor’s room before, after all you never know what you’ll open his door to see him doing. There’s always that little fear at the back of your head telling you that you know better than to walk right into a lion’s den like this. The feeling that just walking into his room is asking for a contract you’ll regret later but can’t refuse in the moment.
Once you reach his door, everything comes to a halt. Your walking, his music, and even time, seemingly. Did he know you were standing here? Just outside his door? Did you make a noise you didn’t hear but he did? That wouldn’t be unusual for you. Maybe he was simply getting ready to play a different record. ‘Perhaps now is the time to interrupt, then.’
You softly knock on his door and almost immediately the door swings open which causes you to jump back a little in surprise. He looms over you, crimson eyes peering down over a practically glowing sharp grin. You stare up at him, a shy smile slowly creeping onto your face. “Why, good evening! To what do I owe the pleasure of such a late visit?” Alastor greets.
You stutter a bit as you answer. “Ah, good evening! I just couldn’t sleep and I thought that, uh, I should come say hi!”
“Well, this is a very nice visit! I don't get many late-night callers these days; make yourself at home!” He opens his door wider and gestures with a grand swish of his arm for you to come inside.
And you do. As you walk in you glance around his room, wondering what he was up to while listening to his music. Some of his furniture was moved closer to the walls and a fire blazed in his fireplace, growing ever bigger as a breeze came in from the forest half of his room. ‘Huh, didn’t know that there was weather in here. Noted and hoping it never rains.’ With the warmth of the fireplace it feels unnecessary to have a blanket on so you placed it on one of the couches that is pushed to the side.
“I didn’t have much to do tonight so I resorted to getting into the swing of dancing to pass the time.” The red head explains as he made his way to an awaiting record player that looked to have seen better days, but from what you heard on your way here, it did it’s job much better than appearance would lead you to believe. “Would you care to join me, my dear?”
“Join you? Oh, I don’t really know how to-”
“I’m sure you’ll pick it right up! It does get so boring singing and dancing by oneself, and you seem like you need something to pass the time, yourself.” He looks over his shoulder at you, record in hand. His usual big grin had become more of a smirk, as if he knew about your tired wondering.
You nod at him, figuring he just wasn’t going to take a ‘no’ or an ‘I’d rather watch you dance and hang out on your couch’. You step over to the record player and pick up the sleeve the demon got the record out of. Judging by the title, it seemed to be a collection of old hits from the 30’s. None of which you were familiar with. There is a respect that comes with older music since more modern music couldn’t exist without it, however older music just tends to be a bit too slow for your liking. Perhaps you’ve been listening to the wrong songs though, since Alastor doesn’t entirely seem to be the type to enjoy slow music either. At least not on boring nights with guests like tonight.
As you set the sleeve back down where you found it, music started playing from the record player. A bit distorted at first but sounding just as clear and blaring as it was earlier once it had a second to do its thing. A much more energetic tune than earlier begins to play, confirming your earlier suspicions. Alastor leads you to the center of the room where it’s the clearest and stands next to you, offering his hand for you to hold. It was when you comply and take his hand in yours you begin to remember the sheer difference in size between you two. His clawed hand easily swallowed yours and at this closer proximity than normal it felt like he was a tower to you being a cottage.
“Now, all we’re gonna start with is moving side to side like this.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, keeping his hips loose and going with the motion. You stare for a moment before awkwardly (at least it felt awkward) mimicking the action. “Use the same foot I’m using on my count. 1, 2, 3, 4.” He kept count until you got it and were able to keep up. Simple enough. “Now we’re going to do the same, but vertical. Slightly more tricky, try not to tie your legs together, dear. Outside foot goes back.” It was trickier, and you did lose balance in the beginning, but luckily Alastor didn’t entirely seem to mind it. You guess it would be less bothersome to someone who could lift you with their pinky. You think you got it down and it seems that Alastor thought so too when he directs, “Now we’ll combine them. Bring your outside foot back up, there you go, and rock on your outside foot, inside foot, outside foot rocks back, then rock back to the front foot.”
As soon as you got that down Alastor was off, adding an extra tapping step, throwing in a few kicks for himself, even switching the position so you were holding hands in front of each other. Once in front of the other you could swear that Alastor is staring a bit too intensely. It’s like he is attempting to peer further into your being and get a better read on your soul. What is more jarring is you could swear his eyes flicker to your lips and stay there, but your tired brain isn’t able to confirm for sure that’s what you saw. Honestly, you had no idea what was going on. Trying to focus hard on his steps and mimic and predict them was difficult, especially in your half awake brain. Considering he kept going you figured you were somehow keeping up well enough; you haven’t been looking at his face much, trying to watch his feet.
Your focus retreats entirely once you hear him say something, but as you look up at him you are suddenly stumbling right into a twirl and then into the deer demons’ chest; one clawed hand now on your waist and the other moving your hand to his padded shoulder. Your nose suddenly filled with a pine and metallic smell and your face so close to the crimson fabric of his clothes, it took a second before you realized your feet had been dragged for a second before the both of you weren’t moving.
“I did try to tell you I was going to pull you in, my dear.” His radio filtered voice brought you fully back. You find your footing again and look hesitantly up at his ever grinning face. Alastor is leaning over you, face coming closer until his sharp teeth become a little too close. Just inches from your own lips.
“Sorry.” One of your feet tries to go back so you would be able to create a bit of distance so you could see him properly, but his hand on your waist keeps you solid against him. You instead opt to move your hand from his shoulder to his lapel to keep your stability. ‘Did he just freeze for a second?’
The demons’ grin widens impossibly more, eyes flashing with an unknown emotion. “No need to apologize, my sleepy friend. I’ve found your company to be quite pleasant on this eventful night. Perhaps it’s time to bring this evening to an end.” He suggests. The hand that is still holding yours let’s go and lands on top of yours on his lapel. “ You caught onto the steps very quickly. You do enjoy keeping me on my toes.”
“Thank you.” You reply a bit flatly, your vision starting to unfocus as you stare at your joined hands. You both were just dancing so it makes sense, but somehow the warmth was still causing cogs in your mind to stutter. As if you can’t believe this as anything but a dream. “I think it’s time I head back to my room. I think I’m at the point where I could go into a coma for the next few days.”
He chuckled a bit to himself. “I see that. You look like you’re going to collapse as soon as I let go of you. Tell you what, I’ll send you back to your room if you agree to come back for lessons after supper tomorrow night. A time when you should be more awake. I am so curious to see how you fare fully awake.” You nod your head numbly, just wanting to allow sleep to take you. “Splendid! Have a lovely rest, dear.”
As he snaps the fingers on his free hand, you could feel the floor disappear under you. Before you could drop, Alastor allows you to essentially float for a second while he lifts your hand he had been covering and kisses the back of it. Next thing you know you fall into inky blackness before feeling the familiar softness of your bed. As sleep begins to over take you, you think back upon those final moments and let them sink in. ‘Oh shit.’ The radio demon just kissed the back of your hand. Not to mention, he also now has one of your blankets. Your eyes snap open, and suddenly you didn’t feel tired anymore. ‘God fucking damn it, Alastor.’
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hollyhomburg · 8 days
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Before I Leave You (Pt.70)
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(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The pack meet with Moonbyul to discuss terms.
Tags: Fluff, drinking and drunk characters, hurt/comfort, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, brief sexual content, oral f. receiving, Exhibitionism, car sex, Talks of mental disorders, implied/confirmed autistic jimin,
W/c: 12.1k
A/n: Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok are leaning over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.
Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. the need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.
Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that tae tied in his hair.
You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technice to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree.
It changes from wrestling to tickling. and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, Ganging up on your mate who takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.“
You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you, and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 
You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he fingers the gauze there.
"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say. 
Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” he asks. 
“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking, staring at his downturned eyes. The way his eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, pad across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 
"So should I consider that a four or-" 
"No, this time I'm being honest," Namjoon stiffens, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 
Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there and leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.
“Do you notice?” He asks, you swallow. Eyes itchy. 
“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 
“Still dry.” He says. 
You think of the mice, of drowning, you don't pull your hand from Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't let you anyway. You think about the mice, of dying, of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 
Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. “Still dry.” You agree. 
Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Pulling himself between your thighs where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 
He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 
“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 
“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 
Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a second, he loops his pinky through. 
Coming Saturday May 18th at 5PM EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)
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155 notes · View notes
acey-wacey · 1 month
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Good morning!!! Congrats for hitting 2000 followers, I think you really deserve it! Also, I'm really glad that you've returned! I've been following your blog ever since last year, when I found your "Love Rivals" and "Meeting your future children", I really like how you portray the twst characters in your writings! There are times where I smiled For the 2000 milestone event, could I please request Idia with Lavender (Mind Reading)? You know how Idia usually think lowly himself, right? What if Idia has feelings for reader, yet he doesn't take action because of his low self-esteem/fear of rejection, but when Idia got in a potion accident where he can temporarily read minds, all he can hear from reader's mind are praises and thoughts of infatuation/admiration about him.
So that's the general idea of it, the rest is up to you. Also, I don't mind if you'll make a few changes here and there. That's all, thank you and have a nice day!
This is so cute! Thank you for hanging around so long!
I may have niche-video-game-referenced my way a little too close to the sun with this one. Hopefully, it makes sense to somebody.
...
Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader
Prompt - Mind Reader
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"Tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna..."
It has been 40 minutes since Idia had gained his powers of telepathy and already he wanted them gone. Grim hadn't had a single thought the entire class except a dumb song he made up about tuna.
The whole thing had been Grim's fault really. The mischievous cat had run away from you and invaded the 3rd year alchemy room. And of course he ran right into Idia just as the upperclassman was adding ground eye of newt to his animal comprehension potion, causing the vial to smash all over him.
You had apologized profusely and tried to wrangle Grim back to your classroom, but Crewel made you miss your class and clean all the dirty cauldrons as punishment, thus why Idia couldn't stop hearing Grim's
Everyone else went on with making their potion, but unfortunately for Idia and his tendency to get overstimulated, he could hear the immediate thoughts of every person in the classroom. He had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lesson due to the crazy noise. Serves him right for daring to venture outside his room.
"I think I put too much nightshade."
"When's lunch again?"
"Sevens, he's pretty."
Idia perked up in his seat. That last one was your voice. He looked over to where you were scrubbing grime off the rim of a black cauldron. Much to his surprise, he made eye contact with you. You looked away so fast, he almost thought he imagined it in the first place.
"Shoot, I hope he didn't catch me staring," you thought. Idia could see the embarrassment in your face now that he knew what he was looking for. He didn't know who was standing behind him, but whoever the guy was was maxed out in luck to get the prefect to like him.
Idia turned back to his cauldron and began to stir lethargically. He tried to block out the noise coming from everyone's thoughts but it was getting very loud. He just wanted to be back in his room playing video games!
"His little pout is so cute! Poor thing, he probably wishes he was back in his room," you thought. Idia's brows furrowed as he subtly looked around the classroom trying to find the person you were thinking about. "I wonder what he's looking for."
Idia snapped back to look at you, only to find you glancing at him again. This time, you were startled but you held his gaze and offered a hesitant wave.
Idia turned his face away as fast as he could so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his face.
"Hm, his hair is turning pink on the ends. I hope he's not mad at me for staring at him," you thought, turning back to the cauldron you were working on. "Though if he doesn't want me to look at him, maybe he should try being less nice to look at."
Idia let out an involuntary squeak. He felt his head start to swim and quickly sat down on a nearby stool. He was sure he looked absolutely crazy to the other students but he was so preoccupied by your thoughts that were apparently about him.
"Is that shallow of me to think that? I don't know. I mean, I don't like him just because he's cute. I also love listening to him talk about games he likes and his inventions are crazy awesome!"
Idia pulled himself deeper into his jacket. Your gaze had been fixed firmly on your work for fear of being caught staring again, so you didn't notice Idia's rapidly increasing fluster meter.
"I like how sweet he is to Ortho, even though he kind of hates everyone else." You sounded kind of defeated when you thought that, or at least you would if your thoughts sounded like anything. "He probably hates me too. I am just another normie. Though I don't know if he co-ops Untitled Goose Game with just anyone."
"No! I don't!" he wanted to scream, but he couldn't get a single sound out of his mouth. He thought he was the self-deprecating one, but you seemed to have convinced yourself that the boy who had a big fat, very obvious crush on you hated you. He even let you play the blue switch controller even though it was his favorite.
"I do wish he would stop being so mean to himself though," you thought, more sincere than Idia expected. "He's so amazing, but refuses to believe anything nice I or Ortho say to him. Maybe if he read my mind, he'd know I'm being sincere."
Idia froze. Did you know about the potion? Had you been messing with him the whole time?
"Well, that little brat better believe me when I tell him I love him even if I have to beat it into him with a Wii remote tennis racket attachment," you thought with a playful vengeance. "Do you hear that, Idia Shroud? I'm gonna make you believe nice things about yourself no matter how many niche video games references it takes!"
That was the moment you decided to glance at Idia, downright shocked when you found him curled up inside his hoodie on a stool with bright pink hair poking out the top.
"Idia, are you okay?" you asked. When he didn't respond, you went up to him and brought your face down to where his would be if you could see it. "Hey, are you alright?"
He jumped, almost falling off the chair.
"You actually said that?" he looked stunned which confused you.
"Yes?" you offered, unsure what he was talking about. "I did just say it."
"Uh, um, I'm, uh, fine," Idia tried to smile at you but it came off more pained than reassuring.
"I don't believe you. What's the matter? Is it too loud in here?" you asked.
"Shame he's always hiding his face. His blush is so adorable!"
"Yes!" Idia shrieked frantically, catching the attention of a few nearby students. "It's too loud. I can't think."
You nodded empathetically.
"You wanna step out for a minute?" you offered, gesturing to the door with a nod of your head. Idia nodded, desperate to get away. It really was very loud, especially with everyone's thoughts flooding his brain. Your seemingly-harmless sweet nothings were only the final nail in his coffin.
You followed Idia out of the room and shut the door behind you.
"Won't Professor Crewel get mad?"
You scoffed.
"Not a single teacher at this school gets to get mad at me after everything I've done," you leaned against the wall with a calming smile. "And if they do, they'll answer to the ghosts that live in my house."
That made Idia chuckle. You lit up seeing a smile on his face, no matter how minute.
"I love seeing you smile. If only I could be the reason more often."
"You're pretty much the only reason," Idia mumbled. Your easy smile dropped.
"What did you say?"
"What?" Idia averted his eyes, his mind filling with panic. "I didn't say anything."
"No, no, you said 'you're pretty much the only reason'," you questioned, your eyes full of confusion and shock. "That sounded like... I don't know, I was thinking something and then you said that and it sounded like..."
You squinted in confusion before scoffing at yourself and relaxing.
"That's stupid, Y/N. He can't read your mind."
"Actually, I can?" Idia squeaked, his voice getting higher with every word. Your eyes widened.
"Idia," you said solemnly, standing dead still.
"Mm-hm?"
"You can read my mind."
"Well, not usually, but there was a thing with a potion and it was with Grim and it messed with my head and now I can read minds and it's actually really loud but mostly I'm just nervous because of the stuff you've been thinking and I'm just really..."
You held up a hand to silence Idia's rapid rambling. He looked away sheepishly. You sighed and blinked a few times to process before laughing. Idia looked up in confusion.
"Aren't you mad?" he asked hesitantly. "I violated your privacy."
"I mean, you saved me the time of confessing to you myself," you chuckled, a giddy smile on your face.
Idia stared at you, trying to find traces of joking but you seemed to be serious.
"You aren't mad?"
"I'm in love with you is what I am."
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Skz when their partner can't sleep
i couldn't sleep when i thought of this so
i can't sleep~
teeth rotting fluff,not proof read yet
Bangchan
He probably wouldn't be able to sleep either,and most of stays sleep schedules are wrecked so he would do a live with you.He would go on Channie's room and do whatever.Comments like"Why aren't you guys asleep?","Go back to bed" would fly through."I don't know what you guys are talking about,its 1 in the afternoon.You know time zones?"but stay know thats its 2 am where you are so your attempt on manipulating them failed
Minho
You guys would rate children's drawings,yk those tiktoks where the teacher rates their students drawings.Thats you guys but you're not teachers."Who is that supposed to be?" "Barney","Then why does it look like grimace if took he meth".You guys would probably receive noise complaints for how loud you'll be laughing,but they would laugh just as loud if they saw these drawings
Changbin
Watch rip-off movies,have you guys seen that video where benoftheweek was watching rip-off movies.Yes.Instead Ratatouille your watching ratatoing,instead of the bee movie you're watching plan b."This animation is giving me nightmares","This is torture".Changbin couldn't stop laughing at the names of the movies,"Who wrote this"he would be in tears
Hyunjin
This one is more wholesome than the previous,i feel like he would read poems to you,even better read HIS poems to you,they would be the cutest things ever😭😭,i think he would also make you some tea,massage your head whilst reading the poems.(I need a fanfic on this NOW),he would have such a soothing voice reading them and then scream in your ear(jk...maybe),he wants you to get your 8 hours even though that might mean that he can't
Han
He would eat midnight snacks with you,even though it's not midnight he'll still have snacks.You would try new foods,"This taste likes bbamba's foot","How do you know how his foot taste like?","..." ,you would go late night shopping at those 24/7 stores,han would be scared if its 3am,"why are you so scared","have you not seen those do not watch at 3am videos?"You would just laugh at him,he's such a child
Felix
As we know Felix,is a tiktok king.He would post tiktoks with you,you would explore so many trends and do almost all of them.You would also have a debate why the tiktoks should go on his account or your account,"I deserve this tiktok","No i do".You would do funny tiktoks,dance tiktoks etc.a lot of them would go in the drafts and you would also have a debate on which you should post,"I look like a rat in this tiktok.","Exactly"
Seungmin
This is also one of the wholesome ones,I feel like he would sing you to sleep.His soft gentle voice singing you melodies AHDSUDGDEIURRH that's too cute 😭,he would try to calm you down make you tired because who doesn't want to sleep.Especially with his vocals the song could be rock and he would somehow make it sound soft,he would sing your favourite songs and if you don't say a skz song he would add one in there
Jeongin
He would do skincare with you,you have a bunch of products so it would be quite time consuming."What does this do?","Something".You would take pictures with face masks on because it's a vibe.You would also go online shopping for more products,"Buy the rose jelly one ","No" he would add it to your cart when your not looking,when it arrives and you ask him about he would pretend not to know anything about it
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insanermin · 2 months
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modern loser!ellie headcanons :)
✮ ellie would see a device with a screen, then ask "but can it play doom?" and laugh about it for way too long.
✧ you'd make her watch an anime or read a manga and she won't admit that it's good because comics are superior to her. it's either that or the opposite.
✮ "yeah i used to skate," she tried it out once when she was younger and broke her arm. she's too embarrassed to talk about it.
✧ "no, i deleted tiktok," screen time on youtube is 6 hours. explains the can it play doom. that being said she'd probably find rush e super funny too?
✮ she eats in complete silence, no youtube videos for background noise but makes so much noise eating... though that's the only time where she's not talking your ears off.
✧ ellie has the urge to say "name 10 songs" whenever someone talks about a band she likes. she will make sure you're aware that any band you mention, she knows said band longer than you.
✮ she loves the legend of zelda. and she won't shut up about it if she recently played it. "yeah if i didn't play on an emulator bet i could submit it," (she struggled in majoras mask and couldn't find the first stray fairy)
✧ but apart from being a huge nerd she's extroverted. she wants to be mysterious and intimidating (and she is if you just look at her) but the minute she opens her mouth... all gone.
✮ ellie flirts a lot when she's high and thinks that she's super attractive and mysterious (its the third time she's quoting jaden smith's "can we talk about the political and economical state of the world?")
✧ she uses one (1) hair tie. steals hair ties from others as soon as she loses hers and lies terribly about it. "no this isn't yours ahahaha i found this one somewhere..."
✮ can someone please retire her air force 1? they look like they've been through 3 wars but she refuses to get new ones because she's attached to them. "no these shoes, they're real ones. been with me through thick and thin."
✧ "you sure it doesn't bite? or has rabies? haha just making sure, you know." when visiting a friend with a cat. will keep some distance for the "cats safety" but said cat violates her. (cat sits on ellie's lap)
a/n: felt like writing smth but not really and headcanons are pretty fun,,, also i broke my toe. in half.
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
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It happens after a visit at the Mayfield trailer. Eddie comes up with a wonderful plan to prank Steve: He’ll announce that he’s going back to his trailer but actually sneak and hide in the back seat of Steve’s BMW - he had stolen the keys earlier and secretly unlocked it.
So, when he sees Steve starting to wrap things up so the kids can spend time together, Eddie makes the announcement that he’s leaving, and gives Max a squeeze on the shoulder on the way out. He’s giddy with excitement as he climbs into the backseat and hunches down. He holds his breath after he hears Steve yell at everyone to take care from the front of the trailer.
The car door opens and closes, and Eddie waits a moment before he jumps out, letting Steve really settle into the comfort of his car. Instead, Steve mumbles under his breath, “Okay, Harrington, hold it together. Kids are watching.”
Eddie hears him start the car and feels him reversing back then taking off quickly. There’s a click and then a cassette starts playing which Steve starts singing along to. It would be endearing if his voice wasn’t so tight, sounding like he’s struggling to hold back tears.
Eddie doesn’t know what to do as he hears the first song end. Steve says to himself, “Use her as the fucking bait… and you just let it happen!” There’s a loud noise that Eddie thinks is the smack of a hand on the steering wheel.
He curls further into himself as the next song plays. It’s one of those playlist that he knows he would make fun of Steve for if he wasn’t practically choking out the lyrics. After a loud sob, there’s a deep breath and then a stern, “Steve Harrington doesn’t fucking cry. Steve Harrington doesn’t fucking-” it’s broken off with another sob.
Then the car is suddenly coming to a stop, and the car is filled with whatever pop song Steve has playing and the sounds of Steve Harrington gasping for breath as he lectures himself about not crying. It’s fucking devastating, but Eddie knows Steve would never forgive him if he revealed himself now.
“She might never fucking walk again you fucking idiot,” Steve says then there’s another loud smack. “You were supposed to take care of them,” Steve says voice cracking awfully. Eddie hand flies up to his mouth as he chokes back a sob. He doesn’t know when he started crying.
“I need air,” Steve announces suddenly with a gasp and then the car door is opening and slamming shut. Eddie takes a moment to debate his choices. He can attempt to hurry away although he didn’t pay any attention to where Steve was driving. Or he can keep hiding in the car and risk Steve finding him during the rest of his breakdown.
Eddie tries the door handle and slowly climbs out the back. He turns to find Steve standing off the side of some back road, hands on his hips, and face staring up at the sky. One hand rises up to pinch at his nose as tears fall down his red face. He looks like he’s trying as hard as he can to not let this take over him, and Eddie can hear him still lecturing himself.
Eddie can’t stand the sight. And he can’t leave. Maybe Steve will hate him forever for intruding, but Eddie can’t let him go through this alone. He lets the back door of the car shut firmly. Steve whips his head to the side, eyes wide in shock but red rimmed and filled with tears.
He reaches up and angrily wipes away the tears. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Steve asks. Eddie just slowly approaches him as if he were a wild animal. “Were you fucking hiding in my car?!” Steve yells.
Eddie’s just glad that his anger is directed at someone other than himself. “Fucking answer me, Munson!” Steve yells again, tears still streaming down his face which he wipes at again. Eddie doesn’t answer but slowly gets closer.
“Get the fuck away from me freak.” Eddie lets the insult roll off him as best as he can as he finally gets into Steve’s space. “Go away,” Steve whispers desperately. His words betray him as Steve doesn’t attempt to move back.
Eddie lifts his arms up and pulls Steve into a hug. He tenses up immediately. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Eddie says, and Steve finally gives in. He sobs into his neck, nearly close to hyperventilating as Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” Eddie repeats again and again as Steve loudly sobs.
“It-it’s my fault,” Steve says finally catching his breath, voice all twisted up in agony that makes Eddie choke out a sob.
“It’s not your fault, Steve,” Eddie says, trying to hold back his own tears.
“I could’ve stopped it. I should’ve stopped it,” Steve says weakly pounding his fist on Eddie’s chest.
Eddie’s hands comes up to intertwine his fingers in Steve’s, making him release the fist. “We all could’ve stopped it. We’re all at fault here. The weight of the world and the fate of these kids doesn’t need to fall on you. You can’t always save everyone, but you did.” Eddie feels Steve’s grip tighten on him as he continues, “She could’ve died, but she didn’t. She might be in that wheelchair for a long time, but she’s alive. Hell, she’s even back more of an attitude when I didn’t think it was possible.” Steve lightly laughs at the remark which makes Eddie’s hold on him tighten even further.
A few moments later, Steve’s breath begins to even out enough that Eddie decides he can loosen his grip on him. He takes the moment to pull Steve slightly away so he can cup his face in his hands. His eyes are swollen and there are still tears streaming down his red face. His bottom lip is quivering no matter how hard he’s trying to press his lips together. And there’s definitely snot and tears getting mixed under his nose. It’s an ugly cry, but Eddie thinks Steve looks beautiful.
“You saved me, too,” Eddie reminds Steve. “You saved us all.”
Steve’s watery eyes search Eddie’s before he’s slowly nodding, finally accepting that maybe he isn’t entirely at fault for everything that’s happened, and maybe he even caused some good.
Eddie kisses him on the forehead and pulls him back into a hug. “You can cry, too, you know. As much as you need to because I’ve got you. I’ll be here forever if you need me to be,” Eddie says softly.
“Promise?” Steve says quietly.
“Promise,” Eddie says, tugging Steve closer on the side of the road, feeling the dampness on his shirt grow as Steve finally lets go.
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Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati! (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
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Summary: In which a stork arrives early, Buggy has a rough day, and you get what you deserve. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Clean. Word Count: ~1.5k. Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth, exploitation of a Devil Fruit power. A/N: good news is that i'm not ovulating anymore bad news is that i got a mental image in my head that wouldn't go away so i'm subjecting you guys to it too. also, this buggy has more of the anime version in him, so just a heads up!
---
It was a power move, plain and simple. Boa Hancock, Warlord of the Sea, refusing to negotiate with anyone away from Amazon Lily. And Buggy, having drawn the short straw, gets ordered under threat of revocation of his title to go do it.
So not only does he have to brave Sea Kings in the Calm Belt, he doesn't even get to go ashore when he gets there. No, he has to send the female crew to deal with it.
And, to make matters worse, you insisted upon going with them. You, with swollen ankles and an aching back. You, waddling around and damn near ready to pop. You, eight and half months pregnant with not just any child, but his child.
How could you be so callous and cruel to him like this? Where do you get off on tormenting him with the knowledge that, if something happens, he won’t be able to get to you? It’s pure sadism is what it is, and he’s wearing a rut in the deck trying to get his mind off of it.
A distant scream splits the air.
Your scream.
---
Nine months. Babies come out at nine months. That's how it's always been, that’s how it always will be.
So then why, oh why, does this little asshole decide to pop out at eight and a half?
A wave of pain wracks you. You double over in your chair.
You suppose you're lucky. You’re in a palace in a private room with a bed, a tub of warm water, anything you could possibly need. The midwife, Cassandra, has gentle hands and comforting words. Dozens of women show up to fuss over you and encourage you, a number of them mothers themselves. Dahlia brings food, Gloriosa sings songs, Marguerite and Sandersonia hold your hands when the contractions get worse.
Even the Pirate Empress herself pays the occasional visit, albeit under the excuse to scold you for making a ridiculous amount of noise. But she always lingers with a curious gaze, and commands that more bedding be brought or that “I must be prepared for when I bear the child of my beloved,” whatever the hell that means.
Too bad they don’t have any morphine.
---
The only thing stopping Buggy from collapsing into a million parts is that he has completely locked up. He cannot move his head, his fingers, his eyes, everything is frozen stiff.
Fortunately for him, Galdino asks the question for him. “She’s what?” 
“I just told you: in labor.” Alvida is way too calm. She dusts her coat, adjusts her hat, buffs out a scuff on her fingernails. “Her water broke right in the middle of the discussion. Three hours of political maneuvering, wasted.”
“I think we got it sorted, though.” The strongwoman shakes her head. “Poor gal. Of all the dumb luck.”
Another scream rips the air. Everyone flinches.
It cuts through Buggy like a knife through... well, himself. He gets his senses back and only one thing consumes his mind.
He vaults over the side of the ship. Kuja laws be damned, he needs to get to you, even if he has to swim for it. Before you get hurt. Or killed. Or worse.
He only realizes the mistake he’s made when he hits the water.
---
You blink in disbelief. “It’s what?”
“Upside-down,” Cassandra says. She adjusts her glasses. “If my intuition is correct, it’s coming out rear end first.”
Breech birth. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. Your grandmother was a breech, your mother was a breech, your niece was a breech... Breeches all the way down in your family.
And, considering its father, of course the little fucker’s an acrobat.
You groan and fall backwards. Part of you is glad he’s not here. You’d strangle him. The other part wishes he was here. So you could strangle him. And rip his balls off. Hell, you might just do that anyways. DIY orchiectomy.
A contraction wracks you and you yelp.
---
What do you do with a distraught sailor, when the sun is highest?
Hold him back from swimming to the island. He’ll kick and thrash and escape all three of the strongmen and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will have to jump in and fish him out.
What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the evening?
Lock him up in a cage with Richie. He’ll cut himself to ribbons and slip through the bars and sneak past everyone on deck and throw himself overboard and Cabaji, having just finally gotten himself into dry clothes, will have to take another dip.
What do you do with a distraught sailor, at the witching hour?
Clamp him to the mast with Seastone handcuffs. He’ll pick up a nail on deck and pick the lock and outrun everyone trying to catch him and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will make Mohji jump in this time because he’s getting really sick of this bullshit.
What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the morning?
Hack off his hands and arms and noggin, throw the Seastone cuffs on his ankles, tie his torso to the mast, stuff his own bandanna in his mouth, then post up guards.
Even gagged, Buggy’s screams rival yours.
---
Just when you’re ready to give up the ghost and will yourself into unconscious bliss, you feel it. Something gives. Then something else. With one mighty push, one mighty curse, and one mighty splat, your child is born.
The baby howls like a beast. You suppose you’d be screaming too if you were covered in shit and viscera and had a full head of hair.
You want to hold it. You need to hold it. "Give-- Gimme it," you sputter.
Cassandra, hands it to you. "A boy," she says.
You’re ashamed to be a little disappointed. Based on the talk, you were hoping for a girl. But it all fades as you hold him in your arms and bring him to your chest, overwhelmed by a tide of hormones and emotion.
He’s a little funny-looking, with his pink skin and little stretched face and his legs at weird angles. But he’s here. A baby. Your baby. Buggy’s baby.
You start to sob.
---
Buggy is once again frozen stiff. He wants nothing more than to help you back aboard, hold your hand as you step over the railing, and escort you to his cabin. It would be the absolute least he could do.
But no. He’s stuck up here on the quarterdeck, doing even less than that. He watches as you make your way up the stairs, clutching a bundle wrapped in a floral-patterned blanket. Dark circles ring your eyes and your gait is stiff and exhausted.
Say something. Anything. “You look like hell,” he says. Goddammit.
Fortunately for him, you huff in amusement. “I’ve certainly been through hell.” You stand closer and angle the bundle towards him. “Wanna see what I found there?”
His hand hovers over the corner of the blanket. What if it’s dead? What if it’s got a dog’s face? What if its hair is red? What if it’s got its father’s--?
“Just look, Buggy,” you scold.
He swallows. He pulls back the corner.
Nestled in the blankets, blinking in the light, is a miniature you. A head full of thick dark hair, already starting to curl at the ends. Dark eyes, peering at him the same way you do. And, right in the middle of its chubby little face, your delicately curved nose.
Heat fills his belly with smoke. He recognizes this emotion. It’s the same one as when he sees someone waving around a treasure map. When he spies a chest overflowing with gold. When he first laid eyes on you.
He can hardly hear his own voice. “She’s gorgeous.”
“He,” you say. Buggy looks at you. You smile. “He’s a boy.”
A boy. A boy. His boy. Your boy. He has a son. You gave him a son.
The smoke catches fire and sets his whole body alight. He snatches the baby -- his son! -- from your arms and holds him -- his son! -- up high, presenting him -- his son! -- to the assembled crew like a boxer holding up a champion belt.
He shouts, bellows, screams for the whole world to hear: “I have a son!”
A cacophony of cheers goes up from every man and woman on the deck and, for a few moments, everything is right in the world. Mohji throws his arms around Cabaji. The strongwoman picks up Galdino and spins him around. Alvida smiles as she leans against her mace. Richie roars. Even the Kuja who escorted you back whoop.
Wait a damn minute. You did all the work. You made his son. You pushed him out. All he did was be in the right place at the right time with a bad pullout game.
He places the baby back in your arms and sweeps you into his own, separating his trunk from his legs to raise you up even higher. He wants to shout something eloquent, an ode to your strength and beauty, a paean to your power, a declaration that you are the greatest treasure he’s ever stolen.
But all that comes out, through snot and tears that he didn’t even realize were flowing, is a garbled, blubbered, “I love this woman!”
The cheers only grow, joined by your clattery laughter.
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---
To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar
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avastrasposts · 1 year
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The Pilot and his girl
ch. 1 - TLoU AU
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Frankie Morales meets the love of his life and starts creating a new life for himself, her and his little daughter. But things are about to change in ways no one could've imagined with the outbreak of the cordyceps infection.
Series Master List
The idea of putting the guys from Triple Frontier in to The Last of Us was a random thought I had a few weeks ago. I really wanted to explore what Frankie Morales would do, who he would turn into, if he had to experience the outbreak, fighting to protect himself and those he loves in a whole new way.
I'm having so much fun writing it and I really hope you'll enjoy reading it! The first hints of TLoU pops up in chapter 9.
No age gap, our reader and Frankie are the same age, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions.
Edit: Making this easier to navigate - Chapter 2
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Frankie’s at the corner of the bar, his back to the wall, as she walks in. The boys, Pope, Ben and Will, are arguing about some finer point of something or other, he’s not really paying attention anymore, so he’s the only one who notices her. A bachelorette party tumbles through the door first, the bride to be wearing a tall plastic tiara on her head, and her friends trailing behind, all wearing Friends themed t-shirts that say “The one where Lizzy marries Steve”, cackling loudly and making “wooohoooo” noises. The boys immediately turn and check out the girls but one look at how far gone they all are, this is probably the only bar in town that will still serve them at this level of intoxication, they turn back to their conversation. 
She’s trailing behind her friends, coming in after the others and just about hiding the t-shirt under her jean jacket, looking a lot more sober than the rest of the hen party.
Frankie can’t help but stare, the way the black jeans are hugging her curves makes his heart rate pick up, but when she pushes her hand through her hair and smiles at her friends it feels like it stops in his chest, pausing a second before racing again. He swallows, tugging at his cap, pulling it down deeper over his eyes as he tries to look without staring. She glances around the room as her friends occupy one of the large booths next to the jukebox and start a giggling argument about what songs to play first. Somehow her eyes catch his and he feels heat creeping up his throat as he quickly looks away, down at his drink, over at Pope, anywhere but at her.
Against your will you’ve been talked into ending your friend’s bachelorette party at a local dive bar in a part of town you and your friends usually don’t hang out in. Your usual hang out had refused to serve your friends, seeing as they certainly were about four tequila shots too far gone, and you’d been ready to call it a night then. Bachelorette parties weren’t even really your thing but as Lizzy was the last of your friends to marry, apart from yourself, you couldn’t really back out when she begged you to come. So after failing to get into three clubs, Lizzy had bribed the bouncer to tell her of a bar that would let them in and he’d told them to try The Outback Bar across town. 
So here you are, pushing open the door to a place that was decorated to look like something out of a Crocodile Dundee set while your friends squealed over the stuffed plush kangaroo by the jukebox. The bar is half empty, mainly regulars scattered around the place, some playing pool at the back. This neighborhood isn’t exactly the best so you scan the place for any potential troublemakers but one of the booths is filled with three middle aged ladies sipping on some sort of cocktails and it makes you feel a bit more calm. How bad could a place be if a group looking like local high school librarians were drinking at it? 
At the bar you spot four guys involved in an animated conversation. Well, three of them are, the fourth one is looking at your but ducks his head the second you catch his eye, his hand shooting up to rub his neck under a mop of dark curls that stick out under his cap. His eyes are shaded but you can make out his curved nose and nervous smile as he glances over at his friends, still rubbing his neck before his hand slides down and rubs his patchy beard instead. He quickly shoots a glance your way and you feel like you’ve been burnt when your eyes meet just for a second, his face softens into a quick smile before he drops his gaze again. Before you can help yourself you smile back and you hope he saw it before he looked away. Smiling at random men in bars was dangerous business but this man had such a sweet, soft smile that he’d pulled a smile in return from you before you’d even realised what was happening. 
Your friends call you over to the booth and then order you to the bar for a pitcher of beer and tequila shots, deciding you’re the only one sober enough to order for the table. You shake your head and laugh at their loud demands for more liquor but you decide a pitcher of beer won’t do much damage this late in the game anyway. 
The bartender is busy serving another patron so you lean on the counter and try to sneak looks at the man at the other end. The bar is a big rectangular shape, wrapping around the open shelving system in the middle and it lets you peek through the opening towards the four friends at the opposite corner. Two of them are blonde and blue eyed, similar enough looking to be brothers, and both conventionally handsome, you know your friends would be all over them. The third man has shorter dark hair and even at this distance you can see the grey around his temples. He’s handsome and something about him tells you he’s probably very aware of how good he looks. He’s waving his hands around, trying to make some animated point to the blonde guys, as they both laugh and shake their heads. 
The fourth man, the one with the cap, seems to be listening with only half an ear as he tilts the liquid in his glass around the rim. Out of the corner of your eye you try to get a closer look at him. His hair is curling around his ears as well as around his neck, and as he smiles at something his friend says you see a dimple in his cheek, his eyes crinkling at the corners as the smile all but transforms his face into something warm and soft. He’s got a scruffy looking beard over his jaw and chin but a thicker moustache that seems to be trimmed just above his top lip. The cap that’s pulled down securely on his head is well worn and beaten and it seems to be a permanent fixture on his head the way he tugs on it every now and then. You can’t help but wonder if he’s hiding a bald patch under there but his dark curls are thick even when he swipes the cap off his head, smooths them down and pulls it on again. 
As Frankie tugs again on his cap he looks over the bar towards the booth the bachelorette party has occupied but he can’t see her. Quickly he scans the bar and feels heat shoot through him as he meets her eyes through the bottles and shelves. This time he doesn’t duck his head straight away, her eyes hold on to him as she gives him a smile before dropping her own gaze to the drinks menu in her hand, still smiling. He keeps watching her, unable to pull his eyes away, and when she lifts her eyes towards him again he feels his lips pull up in a smile that he can’t even seem to control. This woman is gorgeous and she’s looking at him with a smile so sweet he’s losing his breath. Before he knows what he’s doing he lifts his hand from his glass and gives her a quick wave. 
The movement draws Pope’s attention and he’s immediately looking over Frankie’s shoulder, trying to see who his friend is waving at. Catching sight of her Pope exclaims; 
“Damn, Frankie, she’s cute, go talk to her, man!” 
“Shut the fuck up, Pope, dammit.” Frankie sighs as he sees her look away. The bartender has come to take her order and she starts talking to him. 
“I’m serious, Fish, she’s into you, go talk to her, get her number. If you don’t I wi..ll.” Pope makes a show of standing up from the stool and Frankie grabs his shoulder and pulls him down again while Pope laughs at his friend’s awkward glance back at the woman. Ben and Will have also turned, craning their necks to see what the fuss is about and Ben gives a low whistle as he sees her leaning on the bar. 
“Pope’s right, Fish, go talk to her, she’s hot!” 
“Na, na, I changed my mind,” Pope laughs, slapping Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie here will run headlong into enemy territory with his balls out, but what he doesn’t have the guts for, is to talk to someone like her.” 
“Just shut up, Pope, seriously,” Frankie grumbles as he downs the last of his drink and pushes it across the counter. 
“I’ll bet anything you don’t have the cojones to go over there and get her number, buddy.” Pope grins, enjoying riling his friend up as a red flush creeps up over his throat. 
Frankie glances over at her again, she’s waiting on her order at the bar. As he looks her eyes flick to him again and when she meets his gaze she stays locked on him for a second before she looks down at the counter, a shy smile creeping across her face. No doubt she noticed how all of them now seem to be focused on her. 
“Ok, Pope, what’ll it be, what do I get if I get her number?” 
“A hundred bucks, I’ll give you a hundred bucks because that’s how certain I am that you don’t have the balls to ask for her number.”
“You’re on.” Frankie says as he slides off the stool, “You’re gonna pay for my first date with her.” 
...
You can tell you’re suddenly the topic of conversation among the friends on the corner and heat is creeping up your cheeks as you feel four pairs of eyes on you. You glance over again, looking for the man with the cap and when your eyes meet him you can’t help but smile again. 
The bartender brings you the pitcher of beer you ordered, no tequila shots, and two baskets of fries. You pay and start grabbing the order and throw a quick glance over at the corner again but this time the man with the cap isn’t there. 
“Hi, sorry, do you maybe wanna hand with that?” 
You suddenly hear a low voice behind you and you turn to see the man with the cap standing in front of you, a shy smile on his face, his hands stuck deep in his jeans pockets. 
“Yeah, sure, that would be great, thanks,” you return his shy smile as he grabs the pitcher and the tower of glasses from you. You take the fries and lead the two of you over to your friends’ booth. They all cheer as you arrive, immediately grabbing the food and drinks. You turn back to the bar, two large jugs of water are waiting for you on the counter and the man follows you back. 
“Thanks for that” you smile at him and he gives you another shy one back. 
“I’m Frankie, Francisco Morales,” he says, his hand seemingly by its own accord shooting up to rub the back of his neck while you give him your name. His smile widens as you lean on the bar counter, not grabbing the water straight away and he mirrors your action, putting his arm on the counter and standing close enough for you to smell his body wash and the warm cotton of his t-shirt that’s stretched tight across his broad shoulders. The dimple is back and you notice how he’s got small bald patches in his scruffy beard that’s dappled with grey in places. 
“So, bachelorette party, huh?” he asks and nods his head towards your friends who are now toasting in beer and howling along to “I want it that way” by The Backstreet Boys on the jukebox.  
“Yeah, I’m the designated “get them all home in one piece” person tonight,” you sigh with a crooked smile at them. “They are a bit too wasted to still be drinking but you know…” you shrug your shoulders and give Frankie a grin, “been there, done that too.” 
“Got the t-shirt,” he smirks, lifting the edge of your jean jacket with his finger tips to show off the “The one where Lizzy marries Steve” t-shirt you’re sporting under it. 
“To add to my collection,” you reply, laughing as you look down at the print. “I think this is the 8th one. Lizzy is the last one to be married. The couple from the first one has already gotten divorced and remarried so we’re getting through them.” 
“Any of them yours?” Frankie asks and you notice how he’s frowning his forehead, his brow knotting as he looks at you as if he’s nervous for the answer. 
“No, none of them mine,” you can’t help but smile, his face is adorable as his expression drops into a shy smile. His dark brown eyes are very expressive, crinkling again at the corners as he steps a little bit closer to you, giving the busboy room to collect the glasses from the bar behind him. The music from the jukebox suddenly turns off as the softer lights of the bar are replaced by harsher bright lights. 
“Closing time!” the bartender calls from behind the bar as your friends boo and jeer, sinking the last of their beers. “I’m taking these fries to go!” you hear Lizzy slur and you cringe inwardly as Frankie glances over at them. 
“So, seeing as I’m running out of time,” Frankie begins, still standing close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him, “I wanna ask for your number, maybe?”
“You’ve got to earn that privilege, Frankie,” you look up at him. “I don’t usually give my number out to guys I’ve just met at random bars on Saturday nights.” 
“Yeah, no, I get that, probably a smart strategy too,” he falters. “I would’ve bought you a drink first and maybe we could’ve talked a bit more but you know, I didn’t want to not ask anyway.” He scratches at his beard absentmindedly and shoots a quick glance over his shoulder at his friends who are all eagerly still watching the conversation. “Maybe we can catch up here sometime, do you ever come by this place?” he asks. 
“This is my first time here, it’s really on the wrong side of town for me,” you admit, starting to regret not giving him your number but old habits are hard to shake, not giving out your number to random guys being one of them. 
“Oh, ok, I get it.” Frankie looks down and scuffs the toe of his boot on the bar’s skirting board before looking over at his friends again. “I should just go then, get them home too.” 
He starts to move away as you see his dark haired friend make a gesture as if he’s rubbing imaginary money between his thumb and fingers while smiling at the two blonde guys. 
“Did your friend make a bet with you about getting my number?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together. 
“Yeah, kinda, it wasn’t serious or anything, he was just, just, kinda pushing me to work up the nerve to come over and talk to you.” Frankie stutters slightly and your heart contracts as his hand shoots up to rub the back of his neck again, his dark curls becoming ever more unruly with each pass of his hand across them. 
You suddenly feel arms wrap around you from behind and a wave of perfume and tequila washes over you. Lizzy is giggling in your ear, tugging you away from Frankie. “Sorry, lover boy,” she squeals, “She’s mine tonight!” 
You shoot Frankie an apologetic look as Lizzy pulls you over to the booth where the exasperated bartender is trying to convince your friends that it’s time to leave. Frankie gives you a small wave before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning back to his friends. You turn to the tasks of gathering your friends together and calling for an Uber to get you all home safe.  
...
As you leave the bar with the bachelorette party, getting them out the door is like herding cats, you spot Frankie and his friends making their way across the parking lot. Frankie’s got his back to you but you can still make him out, his unruly curls sticking out from under his cap, backlit by the flood lights in the lot. A smile suddenly creeps across your face and you call out to him. 
“Frankie, wait up!” 
He turns as you make your way towards him, and his friends all turn too, immediately breaking out in wide grins. The dark haired one gives Frankie a quick shove as to motion him towards you and Frankie picks up his feet. You meet him halfway across the lot. 
“Give me your phone,” you say and hold out your hand towards him. 
“Why?” he says with a confused look, but he still fumbles in his back pocket to pull out an old iPhone with a cracked screen. 
“Let me win that bet for you,” you grin as he taps in the pass code and hands you the phone. 
Frankie’s confused look changes into a wide grin as you add yourself as a new contact in his phone and hit “save” before handing it back to him. 
“Make sure your friend pays up what he owes you now,” you smile before turning back to your friends who are yelling at you to hurry the fuck up as the Uber you ordered pulls up to the curb.
As you walk back across the lot you suddenly hear Frankie’s fast footsteps approaching from behind. Turning back towards him you stop as he puts his hand on your arm, his calloused fingers are dry and warm against your bare skin, his grip gentle, just resting against you. 
“Does that mean I can call you too?” he asks, his dark eyes barely visible under his cap, but you can see the shyness from before returning. 
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” you smile before reaching up and pressing your lips to the bare patch in his beard, giving him a quick kiss. Behind him you can hear his friends whoop loudly and cheer, someone yells, “Go, Fish!” and when you pull back from Frankie a blush is creeping up his throat, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he grins. You smile again and pull away from him, letting his hand slip down along your arm before his hand gives your fingers a small squeeze and lets you go. Turning back to your friends, who are still yelling at you to get a move on, you hide an even bigger smile. As you quickly make your way over to the waiting Uber you feel butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. The light scratch of Frankie’s beard still on your lips and his warm hand imprinted on your arm. 
Later that night, or early morning more like, your phone pings as you're brushing your teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s a number that’s not saved in your phone but as you pick it up you have a good feeling about who it might be from. 
“hope i didnt wake you. just wanted to give you my number too so you didnt think i wasnt serious and only did it for the bet. sleep well.”
As you read the message your phone pings again and you tap to the new message.
“sorry, it’s frankie, i forgot to say”
You can practically hear his voice through the message, see his frown as he curses himself for forgetting to sign off with his name in the first message and it makes you smile, thinking of how his brow had knitted together as he first talked to you in the bar, that soft, shy look under the peak of his cap.  
Quickly you save his number as a new contact in your phone and reply to him. 
“Hi Frankie, you didn’t wake me, I’m still up :) Thanks for your number. Did your friend pay up?”
You finish brushing your teeth as you watch the three dots move, indicating that Frankie is typing a reply.
“ye he did, although he’s not convinced you didn’t give me a fake number so i guess i have to show him this to prove it.” 
You smile to yourself as you type, moving towards your bed. 
“I guess I have to keep it clean then.”
Frankie’s reply comes quickly this time. 
“that line alone is going to get me into trouble…” 
You giggle to yourself as you tuck yourself in, holding your phone up as Frankie keeps typing. 
“so i have all my winnings to spend and its only fair that I share them with you. can I maybe take you out someday?” 
“I’d like that, call me tomorrow and we can maybe work something out?”
Frankie’s reply is almost instant. 
“i will, sleep well, hermosa”
“Hermosa?”
“beautiful“
“You’re making me blush… Sleep well, Frankie”
You feel yourself grinning like a fool as you put your phone on your bedside table and close your eyes. Trying to not let your mind run away with you, you squash down an excited little squeal as you burrow yourself into the pillow.
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urfavnegronerd · 10 months
Text
right there- alina baraz
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summary: lazy day w miles (either 1610 or 42) 
pairing: miles x black coded reader  
w/c: 839
sum slight
warnings: lowk suggestive if you squint, fem (?) reader (miles refers to reader as ma and mama and princesa, but no use of pronouns so idk if it counts as fem reader), grammarly edited, but nothing really lmk if i missed something
published: august 7, 2023
song lyrics are italicized
ven aquí- come here, vení- come here (informal), princesa- princess
s/o @lunarfleur for this concept, luv u babycakes smooches
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i get so caught up
The day had effortlessly slipped away, like sand through your fingers in a lazy, syrupy, and euphoric haze.  
“Mama? baby?” Miles mumbles, his face halfway nuzzled into your stomach, his hands absent-mindedly kneading at your hips, listlessly raising his head to meet your half-lidded gaze, lifting your chin to meet his eyes. 
“Mmm?” 
“Ven aquí,” 
might of forgot us, can you remind me? 
His voice is a tired kind of raspy as he’s pressing his lips into yours in a mixture of lenience and hunger, his calloused hands cradling your cheeks, pulling away, and kissing your nose. Returning to his original position on your stomach, nuzzling his face into your stomach once again to watch an older CoryxKenshin video. Confused and blushing, you return to your copy of When Dimple Met Rishi, dreamily running your nails across his durag massaging his hair through the silky fabric. 
His bedroom was a small oasis, far away from the usual Brooklyn noise, a quiet dream far far away from everything you were running away from. The dazey smog of cigarette smoke permanently hanging in the air of your apartment, the smog that got caught in the fibers of your clothes, irreversibly weaving its way into your braids. You’d evolved to the point that it smelled comforting, but at the same time, it was a permanent burden on your shoulders, the scent weighing your shoulders down.   
tell me to come back, i got a lot on my mind
“Ma, come back,” he mumbles, pressing his face into your cheek. “Want another kiss,” 
Laughing and leaning into his mouth, adjusting your face up to him, you comply. The kiss was a warm envelope, encasing the two of you in a heavy and exultant moment of obscurity.  
i know it’s been a while, been a while, but i need you this time 
The two of you pull away and you return to your book as he returns to the animated lull of his video. The two of you stay like that, kissing every couple of minutes and going back to your respective past times. It was moments like this that you savored, the tenderness of his room, the soft scent of peppermint oil mixed with sandalwood, and the delicate warmth of the musky cologne he wore like a second skin. He never wore too much though, enough for you to associate him with that smell and the light menthol of his chapstick. The boy did wonders on you, he and his mother had shown you the kind of love you’d only seen on old reruns of Love and Basketball, Poetic Justice, Love Jones, and The Preachers Wife when it aired during Christmas.  
i’ll be in the city, get dressed don’t keep me waiting
Tender and loving, the kind of love the older woman preaches about on her doorstep, the one that’s like that one bible verse. The love in this boy's heart was patient and kind, comforting. A soft place to land, a small escape from everyday life. The kind that helps you take down your braids, and helps wash your hair. The kind where he’ll let you braid and unbraid his hair, gently raking your hands through his thick and luscious inky curls, half adoring his bed of curls, half detangling them.  
can you be my shotgun? be my all-time, be the right one
His eyes are half-lidded as he glances up at you furtively, warily drinking in your beauty. The ethereal glow to your soft brown skin, the brown eyes that hide under your eyelashes with an alluring light to them. The eyes that never failed to make Miles’ heart skip a beat when he looked deep into them, his eyes pouring into you like hot wax in a candle. 
“Whatchu need, baby?”  
you ready? let me know 
“Vení,” he whispers, eyes set low, drunk on lust, fatigue barely lining his eyes. As per routine, he reconnects the two of you, this time he’s above you one arm resting on the wall behind you. Deeping the kiss as he pulls you upward, he exhales a sharp, ragged, yet blissful breath. The kind that makes you pull back and look up at him quizzically. 
“Everything okay, sueñito?” 
“ ‘s all good ma,” 
“You was just breathing all weird, is all,” 
“ ‘m okay, princesa,” 
“Okay,” you smile and exhale, angling up to him more. 
ima need you right there
The youtube video is long forgotten, the book haphazardly discarded beside you, you softly tug his chain forward as he runs his hands along the side of your hoodie, his right hand finding yours and timidly fusing your hands together. Using your left hand, you gently run your fingers over his eyebrows, in an attempt to unfurrow them as he smiles and leans into you. 
“You’re so beautiful, mama,” he mumbles into your lips, and then the two of you are lost in an enraptured oblivion. 
ima need you right there, right there wimme  
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🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3
taglist: @lunarfleur @hearts4hobie@mayeluvsu@nagi3seastorm @n1cole-ghost@hummusxx@milesmolasses@kombuuuu
xoxo,
rae <3
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