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xi-chan · 2 days

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omgggg the pet one you just posted is soooo cute can i request something with the same 3 and welt (if its not too much ♡) where their partner gets turned into a cat and keeps trying to be like 'hey its me!!' but it just sounds like needy cat meows hehe thank youuu stay well

Glad you liked it love !! and sure I can do that <3

Antennaria

sypnosis: you're a cat and your lover doesn't notice pairings: Ratio, Sunday, Gallagher, Welt x reader (Separate) A/N: mostly fluff and crack (again)

RATIO

When the smoke disappeared, you found the members of the Intelligentsia Guild hovering over you, seeming like skyscrapers now- did you shrink? Did the world around you become massive? Did it have to do with the small explosion just now. Only after you noticed your clothes all around you, and a member taking a picture and showing it to you, did you realize-

you're a cat now.

And the other members thought it would be funny to tell your lover absolutely nothing.

Now you're sitting on the couch in your and Ratio's house after you gave up trying to get him to notice that it was you. You tried to get your favourite books that you loved to read from the shelves and placed your tiny paws on them, stole your favourite snacks from the kitchen, brought the clothes you wore on your and Veritas' first date to him- but he seemed to ignore all of these things! On top of that- he placed all of these items to a higher point where you couldn't reach them anymore! All you could do now, was to try and 'tell' him, that it was you.

In your mind, you spoke normally- in human words. For Veritas, however, it sounded like you were in pain by the uneven tones in your meows, and it drove him crazy. "Fine, Fine. What do you want?" he said, crossing his arms after putting away the book he read. After he spoke up, you stopped meowing and went over to him, placing both of your paws on his leg. He sighed as he petted you softly, "All cats are like this..." and, just like cats worked, you purred automatically, but you didn't mind, eventually laying down beside him with your head on his legs. "Do not get any of your fur on my clothes." you growled at his comment but didn't pay any mind to it, drifting to sleep once he petted you more.

The next day, you tried to do more things to get him to notice- sitting in your designated chair, nudging the flowers on a nearby table- even trying to use your paws to signal letters that he could read. But damn those cat elbows for making it impossible. After some hours you gave up again, wanting to wait it out till you turned back or the other members told your boyfriend.

Needless to say, Veritas was quite... disappointed at his fellow members of the Intelligentsia Guild for not telling him about your 'condition' once you turned back, saying they're a bunch of imbeciles for not documenting the effects for their experiments, and you were disappointed as well- at him, though, for not realizing sooner.

As it turned out, the effects of that smoke that you were engulfed in lasted 24 hours and since you weren't wearing any clothes, you were completely naked when you were a human again. To your luck, you were home with only Veritas present, but it was still an embarrassing experience.

SUNDAY

It was simply a dumb idea you had at the time. One of the rules in Penacony stated that Identity theft of another person was strictly forbidden, however, it didn't say anything about turning to animals and you've seen your share of dreamers turning into animals or objects, so you tried to do it yourself, but you quickly regret that decision once you weren't able to turn back to a human. Realizing your mistake, you quickly ran on all fours, which you needed to get used to at first, to Dewlight Pavilion, to inform your lover so he'll help you.

But it seemed futile as you meowed endlessly in front of Sunday's office door, trying to get him to open the door for you. Guards or even other members of The Family tried to get you away from the door, but you always hissed at them or accidentally scratched them- you made a mental note to apologize later when you turned back.

When he couldn't handle the sounds of you anymore, he groaned before opening the door and letting you in. "You are quite the handful, do you know that?" he said, grabbing you by your stomach and holding you in his arms. You meowed again, trying to tell Sunday that it was you, and not some stray cat- but he chuckled at your try and it was obvious he didn't understand.

You never thought Sunday was the type of man to take good care of animals- birds, yes, probably, but cats? Who usually hunt birds? that's a new. Nevertheless, you were spoiled rotten as a cat. He also had you rest on his desk while he worked and you were always by his side, just like when you were a human.

It's been some hours and the sun was already set. Sunday had already been in your shared bed, laughing softly when you jumped on it as well, sitting down beside him. He placed his arms under you and brought you close to him- you purred as he fondled softly with your cheek and furry ear before kissing you on the head, chuckling again.

"How long do you intend to stay in this form, Angel?" he suddenly asked and that made it clear that he knew it was you for some time at least. You let out a long yowl before he explained what you needed to think and do to turn back to a human.

GALLAGHER

"I thought you were more of a dog person." Siobhan said as she prepared another glass of a special cocktail for her local Penacony monsters. "I am, actually. Dunno why this cat is so attracted to this old dog." Gallagher always called himself a dog and you never understood why- for a certain time you thought he'd be an actual dog with a human disguise. but you forgot about it pretty soon- not wanting to imagine that your boyfriend was an actual dog.

He picked you up and held you in his arms as he made his way out of the door. "Where are you going?" Siobhan asked and he answered, "Taking this one to the reception, maybe someone lost them." you desperately writhed in his grasp when he planned to just give you away and accidentally scratched him, resulting in him letting you go abruptly- thank the Aeons cats land on their paws. "Don't tell me that hurt?" Siobhan laughed before turning to the bar again and Gallagher mocked her, "Ha.Ha. It didn't. Just surprised me is all."

The scratch wasn't deep and it wasn't bleeding so you were glad you didn't actually hurt him. You were now even more desperate to tell him it was you. You meowed, hissed, yowled- whatever sound a cat could make, you did it. Even sounds you didn't know cats were capable of. Gallagher groaned before he went back to the bar with you following behind him. As he took a seat, you jumped onto the counter and continued to meow in his face, making him rest his forehead on the cold counter. "Siobhan, I need something." he murmured and she simply laughed at his state as you continued to yowl at him. "Hey, you wanna help, kitty?" she asked, and it was like a golden opportunity.

Immediately, you jumped behind the counter and ran to the glasses first, nudging a large wine glass and the freezer. Siobhan watched you and took the glass and the ice, following exactly what you were nudging. After, you nudged the 'Odd Concoction' two times, the 'Rejuvenating Soda Water' once, then you swirled around yourself indicating that Siphon should stir, and she did. Lastly, you nudged the 'Dream Jam' once and then put your paw on the Robin Sticker for decorations.

After Siobhan was mixing the drink, she placed it on the counter for Gallagher, who accepted it and took a sip without opening his eyes. "Hm, wait a second.." he opened his eyes and analysed the cocktail in his hand. "This is ⸺ specialty drink."

"Wow, really? This cat sure knows a lot." Siobhan petted you on the head softly before she went to other customers. You turned to your boyfriend and meowed at him again, pointing your little paw first at the drink and then to yourself.

"How in the name of- How did you turn into a cat, sugar?" he asked and you shook your head. He sighed as he exed the entire drink in one gulp before picking you up again. "Let's go and find a way to turn you back."

WELT

"Nawww, she's so cute!! Can we keep her, Mr. Yang?" "March, we don't know if it's a girl yet. It could also be a boy." Dan Heng said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from you as she whined about something like, "Let me go!" and "I haven't taken pictures yet!" you loved March but she was sometimes a tad too much...

A hand on your furry head took you out of your thoughts and even with a layer of fur you recognized the texture of that glove immediately. "March, you're scaring this one a little, I fear." your boyfriend said and you stretched your- seemingly liquid- body to reach his hand more. Welt found you in one of the halls of the Express and brought you to the Parlor car. You think it must've been a disturbance during the Jump to another Universe that made you turn into this fur ball.

You didn't mind at the moment though when you sat with Welt and Himeko on one of the couches with Pom-Pom sweeping the floor. Himeko drank her cup of coffee like usual and traced her thumb over your toe beans while you laid on your lover's lap purring contently. "Quite a polite one, no? And you found this one just like that?" Himeko asked, massaging your front paw as well. Welt nodded as he fondled with your furry ears.

"I did. A few minutes after the Jump, I believe." Himeko hummed as she tapped your nose lightly, making you jolt a little. "So, have you seen ⸺ lately?" she asked and you looked at her with a tilted head. "Did she figure it out?" you thought.

She smiled teasingly at you before you meowed at her.

"This woman, she does know!" you thought again before climbing up Welt's chest and yowling at his face. To him and everyone on the Express it really sounded just like whining and Welt tried to carefully get you off of him, but you were persistent- like a burdock. After some struggling, you jumped off of him and bit Pom-Pom's ear lightly, pulling it. "H-Hey! Pom-Pom's ears are no toy!" Welt got up from his seat and pulled you away from them and you took his opportunity to steal his glasses with your paws, trying to put them on your tiny nose. Only then did he notice.

He blinked a few times and took a glance at Himeko, who laughed softly. "Oh." he mentally gave himself a slap to the cheek as he realized that it was you.

"Oh! So that's ⸺? Still adorable! Let me get a pic!" March said as she took out her camera and took a picture of you and Welt with his glasses.

After turning back to a Human with Herta's help, you wanted March to print the picture and give it to you so you could hang it in your and your boyfriend's room. It was a cute picture, really. You as a cat looking straight to the camera with giant glasses and Welt covering his face with you. He apologized many, many times and you accepted it, naturally.

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waldau · 2 days

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I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

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xiao-come-home · 1 day

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the brainworms are back! got some absolutely delightful hair sticks at fantasy fair and thinking abt using the one with little cyan flowers on it to put boothill's hair in a bun. Y'know, with one of those curly strands framing one side of his face. Ahh, I am so exceedingly normal about him. - 💫

BARKING RN

Boothill examines the hair sticks carefully in his hands, gliding his metal fingers up the wooden stick - his eyes flicker between multiple glittering ornaments that were attached, humming gently when you brush his hair behind him.

He raises his brow when the ornaments make a quiet sound as they hit against others, "so, what do ya need these for, sweet pea?" Boothill questions, relishing in your delicate touches on his scalp, his eyes almost rolling back in his skull when you start a soft massage.

Boothill hisses in pleasure when your fingers rub soft circles on his temples "mmmh, keep goin' sweetheart, don't stop," but you only send him a dirty look and go back to using a brush on his hair.

"I think they were pretty, I got them today. What do you think? Do you like them?" You try not to sound too excited just yet, but anticipating his answer. His hands fiddle with the sticks again, "As long as you like 'em, I like 'em too. Not sure how are ya supposed to use this, though."

Feeling a rising opportunity (or, a better chance to act on your plan you've had in the first place), you grab a hair tie and glance back and forth between the hair stick with cyan flowers and his hair suspiciously, "I can show you, if you'd like?"

"Sure, go ahead," he replies almost immediately, awaiting the results; you put his hair in a bun, that created a beautiful mixture of snowy hair with black strands - but left only one, slightly curly one, to frame his face. Boothill hands you the hair stick with cyan flowers and you put it in his hair.

You take a picture of his hair from behind and show him, "done! How is it?" although confident with your job, your voice reveals a tingle of nervousness, to which Boothill responds with pulling you by your waist and sitting you on his lap.

"Wait, how did you know I wanted to use exactly that one?" You scratch your neck awkwardly, feeling him grab your face and getting you closer, to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Sugarcube, I saw ya lookin' at this one all day," Boothill smirks, "ya won't fool me that easily; the hairstyle is lookin' real good, I like it. Good job, little one."

The cyborg finished his praise with giving your nose a playful squeeze.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.thirst #.💫 anon

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gglitch1dd · 7 hours

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How would Dilf Izuku react if anything happened to reader when she is in labor? For example maybe she faints because she’s losing too much blood (sorry if this doesn’t make sense)

(Sorry for answering so late Anon)

Interesting thing about DILF Izuku is the fact that he is there for EVERY single birth. He is there. He gets the call from the hospital saying that you're in labour and he literally tells his PA that he's officially on leave and no one can say otherwise.

After the first two times, he's gotten the hang of what he's supposed to do and what his role is as your husband. He takes his job very seriously.

He's there to hold you whenever you want him to.

He's an errand boy and he picks up the articles of clothing that you end up throwing off yourself during labour.

He's the object to your verbal abuse while in labour. Yes, he knows it's his fault. Yes, he knows you want to kill him. Yes, he knows that this is another sprout you got to push out of your vajayjay. Yes, he still loves you. Yes, he's going to shut up now.

He supports you with loving words. He's right there by your side. He's scared shitless but he doesn't show it because he knows that you need him to be strong when you feel so helpless to the force of nature that his child birth.

Don't faint. Just sit there and look pretty.

Those are the jobs he has listed for himself among many others like make sure his mom is looking after the boys and have the baby bag ready and not to get a speeding ticket while doing so.

Your final pregnancy with Koda was a scary one. Mostly because you were high risk at the time and other than a small fainting scare, you were fine. Everything was fine. The labour was normal and you delivered the baby safe and sound.

A squealing and crying little baby boy that had deep forest green hair and a set of pipes to wake up the dead. He was beautiful and Izuku was so proud of you. He held you with gentle kiss to the top of your head, tears in his eyes at the sight of his new baby boy.

And for five minutes, everything was perfect. Your son was placed on your chest and the three of you were together. Father, mother and son.

Until suddenly, nothing was okay.

"Izuku..." Your voice was breathy as you raised your hand to hold his arm.

Izuku looked away from his son to you. "Yes?" It took less than a second and Izuku knew that nothing was okay. You weren't okay. You were fading, and you were fading fast. Your eyes were fluttering and suddenly your heart rate was declining. He stood up straight. "Y/N. Y/N! Y/N stay with me." He shouted as one of the nurses went running to check on your vitals.

One of the midwives took the baby out of your arms, the newborn's face twisting into a cry at the shouting.

You tried looking at your husband and you tried focusing on him but your breaths were too slow and far between and your eyes were too heavy to stay open. Izuku held your hand, frozen, trying to figure out what was happening. Why weren't you awake anymore?

Why were you still bleeding?

What did the doctor say? Why were you still here?

Why was he just standing there. Why did he let them position him away from you?

Why couldn't he hear a thing?

His wife was there! You were right there! Yet he was... helpless.

And that's when the sinking terror settled in. The reminder that as a father, Izuku could do nothing when it came to this process. He could do nothing. He wasn't a doctor, he wasn't a nurse, he wasn't God. He could do nothing but watch as his beautiful wife, his beautiful loving wife, mother to five of his children, lay there as they tried to stop the bleeding and wake you up.

Izuku moved to grab onto your hand again, and he prayed. He prayed so hard that his mother would probably be impressed right about now.

How a man who had everything, who had the money, got the fame, the influence, the wife, the kids, the family that he wanted, was reduced to nothing but tears and begging for you to not leave him.

Your eyes opened as you turned to look at your right hand. Holding your hand in a death grip was the hands of your husband. You could only see the head of his hair as he seemed to be kneeling at the side of your bed. You heard him muttering and saying something but you weren't exactly sure.

You raised an eyebrow. "Izuku?"

Your husband raised his head, and that's when you saw his beautiful green eyes were red with tears as they just fell from his eyes. He looked up at you as if you were a ghost for a moment before a sob came out of his mouth as he pulled your hand to his face. He cried and you didn't know why he was crying.

Didn't you just take a nap?

"Izu, are you okay?" You asked him gently. "Why are you crying? Where's the baby?" You asked looking around. Your body felt heavy but that was labour for you.

Izuku couldn't let go of you. "Oh thank God." He let out with a sigh. He kissed the back of your hand as he refused to look away from you.

-Glitch1d

#dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #deku x reader #mha

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kayhi808 · 1 day

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Neighbors - Alpine

Masterlist

Bucky hates that you walk home alone after your set at the Flatiron Room, so he's been meeting you after work so you both can grab dinner & head home together. Arriving a little early, Bucky turns down the side alley, making his way to the employee entrance/exit. There's more trash than normal in the alley. Shaking his head, he nudges some of the crates & boxes to the side with his foot.

The last box he shoves emits a high pitch "meow" and Bucky freezes. No. He doesn't see any movement from the box, maybe he imagined it. He goes to lean up against the wall opposite the door. The door opens, but it not you. Your co-workers walk down the alley and as they pass the box, he hears another loud "meow".

Walking over to the box he lifts one of the top flaps and there's a kitten. "Damn it." Bucky squats down & there a dirty white cat meowing. "Hey, buddy." The kitten stretches up the side of the box, meowing. "It's ok. I got you." He reaches in to take the kitten out & it start to shriek & hiss. "Whoa! Hold on." He takes away his hand not wanting to scare the ball of fluff. This gets repeated twice. "Look, you're going to need to cooperate here."

"What are you doing??" You walk out to see your boyfriend hunched over a dirty box in the alley.

"Oh, hey Doll!" Frowning, he stands and gives you a quick kiss. He points to the box. "I got me a pet."

"Oh, Bucky!"

"His name is Alpine...Al." The tiny kitten meows pitifully so you try to pick him up and he immediately goes into hiss-mode. "Jesus."

"I know! It's like, 'you want to get out or not?". You remove the scarf from around your neck and hand it to Bucky. "Use this."

Bucky drops your scarf over the kitten & takes it out of the box. He's making so much noise. "Shhhh. You're safe, Al. I got you." After Bucky's coo-ing, the kitten is still screaming. "I'm saving you, dummy."

You hit Bucky's arm, "Don't call him a dummy! He's just scared." You pout and try to uncover his head, so he can at least see what's going on. Once his head is free from the scarf, he quiets & gives you both a silent meow that melts your heart. You go to scratch his head & he wiggles and hisses. Bucky laughs as you jerk your hand back. "See, dummy." And yet Bucky still brings him closer to his chest, to try & keep him warm.

******

The kitten stayed silent on the walk home as long as you both didn't touch it. Dirty little face taking in all the sights of the big city while nestled up against Bucky's chest.

You make a quick stop at the corner store to see if they got anything for kittens, which wasn't much. You got cat litter but all they had was adult cat food. It's better than nothing. Bucky can go shopping tomorrow.

Letting yourselves into Bucky's apartment, "He's probably starving."

"I got some chicken in the fridge." You head towards the kitchen to dice up some leftover rotisserie chicken. You heat that up and go to find Bucky.

He's in the living room setting up a box for his new friend. "We got a problem."

"What's wrong!?"

He lifts Alpine up to show you despite the angry hissing. "Al is a girl!"

You laugh, "That's not a problem."

Putting her down so she can investigate the chicken. "I already thought of him...her as a boy. He's my buddy."

"Well...she can still be your buddy. What? Do you want to get rid of her now?"

"No!!"

"Okay then."

You both sit on the floor and watch her gobble up her food. Bucky is able to pet her head because she's so distracted by her food. She can't bother with hissing. Once Alpine is done eating Bucky gives her a bath which didn't go at all well. You're in the kitchen putting sandwiches together for dinner but you hear her high pitch meowing. Bucky's cajoling only makes her scream louder.

He finally brings her out, "She was filthy." He puts Alpine on the floor and she is pristine white.

"She's so cute! Look at your daughter." He sits down with you to eat as he lets Alpine explore.

"Sorry about tonight."

"Don't be! I can't believe how cute she is. She was so dirty." You watch her wander around the living room like she owns the place.

"Am I doing the right thing in keeping her?" Bucky's eyes follow her around the room and you know he's a goner. No way is he giving up this kitten.

"Was she better off in the alley?"

"I could drop her off at the animal shelter tomorrow. I'm sure a family would adopt her." You already see the pain in his eyes just thinking of giving her up. At that moment Alpine walk up to Bucky's feet and taps it with her paw and meows at him. "Hey Al, what's up? She meows again & when he just smiles at her, she starts making biscuits to his socks. You both look at each other with silent gasps.

"She's not going anywhere," you laugh.

Alpine gives a big yawn and a last meow, before Bucky reaches down to pick her up. Not a hiss or a scream is heard. He cradles the kitten in the crook of his arm and she starts to purr and falls asleep.

"I'm going to head home. I'll let you bond with your baby," you tease, dropping a kiss to his lips, "Congratulations, Nerd. I'll see you tomorrow."

Laughs, "G'night, Doll."

"Sleep tight, Alpine," you give her a couple scratches before you head next door.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #alpine #bucky x alpine

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hyuuukais · 19 hours

Text

⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, drinking

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 4 ~ ENERGY (wc: 2.7k, 7 screenshots)

Flipping the open sign to 'closed', you wait for Minho behind the counter. There hasn't been much more communication from him since the last time you talked, only a confirmation of when you're meeting. Changbin made sure to leave before he decides to show up, feeling too uncomfortable facing an old friend. Other than the occasional check-in text from Jeongin, you haven't had much ghostly interaction either, which you think is for the best.

Each interaction so far has taken more and more energy, starting with the man on the bus and then the elderly woman. A headache, then nearly passing out? At this point, you'll end up in the hospital. A chill goes down your spine thinking of that; would it be easier for the ghost to get to you unprotected like that, lying in a hospital bed unconscious and exposed?

The sound of the bell alerts you of Minho's arrival. Adjusting yourself to lean against the counter, you watch him close the door and lock it. When he turns around, he catches your eye and gives you a light nod of acknowledgment. Slowly, he makes his way toward the counter, fingers trailing over an arrangement of pink carnations mixed with greenery. Minho stops, letting a petal fall between his fingers and onto the floor. Shaking his head, he closes the distance between himself and the counter with a couple of strides.

"I don't know if I believe you," Minho says, leaning on the counter; his face is too close to yours. "But I'm willing to try and help. I owe Changbin."

"How so?" You ask, unsure if you'll get a reply when he places his bag on the counter and takes out a sleek laptop.

"Why do you need to know? That's between me and him," Minho doesn't even spare you a glance as he opens the device and starts typing. "What's the kid's name again? Any lead suspects yet?"

"Yang Jeongin and no, not really," You answer with a shrug. "I guess the most notable person is his best friend, Hwang Hyunjin."

"Have you looked into him yet?" Minho's eyes dart up between yours, returning to the screen and starting to type. "Could be something there."

"I don't know-" You're interrupted by a buzz and look down to see a text from Jeongin.

Rolling your eyes, you place your phone face down and focus back on Minho's typing. He's not saying anything, but his eyebrows are knit together in concentration as his fingers fly over the keyboard. Other than the sound of the keys, the flower shop is eerily silent, making you slightly uncomfortable. Ever since this has started up, quiet rooms have you on edge, waiting for the next visit from another spirit.

Minho sighs heavily, stepping away from the screen and pacing in front of the counter. You let him take his time, a hand sitting in his hair showing he must be thinking hard. Hopefully. You'll see in a moment.

"Nothing is showing up," Minho stops in front of his laptop, slamming it shut with the hand not holding his head. "Absolutely nothing, just a warning- error, whatever."

"The same thing happened to me!" You stand up straight, fingertips holding the edge of the counter tightly. "When I found this blog that was talking all about his death, it wouldn't let me read the rest of it and said there was an error! It's like something is stopping us from finding out-"

"Invisible forces?" Minho raises an eyebrow.

"Isn't that the whole thing? Normally, people can't see ghosts. Why do you think probably half the world doesn't believe in them?" You say. "So, yeah, invisible forces."

"Alright, sure," Minho slips his laptop bag into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll look into Hyunjin. Goodnight."

"Wait-" As he turns to leave, you call out; he looks back at you over his shoulder. "Would you... could you give me a ride? Being alone right now has me kind of freaked out."

"Won't you be alone at home?"

"Yeah, but it's different," You mumble, looking down at your feet. "It still feels safe there."

Minho hums in response and you don't move.

"Aren't you coming?" He asks after a moment, car keys jingling in his hand.

You lift your head and spot him holding the front door open. Grabbing your bag and jacket, you walk out after Minho and follow him to his car parked down the road. He opens the door for you politely and you step in with a small 'thank you', fiddling with your bag strap as he walks to the other side and lets himself in. The ride to your house is silent, save for the occasional direction from the GPS.

Along the way, you spot a few stragglers out on the streets, one catching your eye when you're stopped at a red light. An uncomfortable feeling washes over you as they keep staring and you shiver, breaking the eye contact and focusing on the road in front of you. When the light turns green, you take one last look and jump. They're right outside your window, the imprint of a hand left on the glass as Minho starts driving again. He gives you a weird look that you miss, too busy trying to learn how to breathe again.

Ten minutes later, you're standing outside your door picking up the keys you just dropped from your hands shaking too much. Minho is stationed outside watching you get in safely, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment when you struggle to get your key in the lock. Switching the light on, you can hear the rumble of Minho driving away and take a deep breath. You're home now, nothing can hurt you here.

Entering your bedroom, you flop face first into your plush bedding and stay like that for a moment. You feel a dip at the end of the bed, but it doesn't freak you out. By now you can tell when it's Jeongin; his presence feels familiar. The bed moves slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable beside you and you turn your head enough to be able to peek up at him. He's staring straight ahead, hands folded in his lap, and you see he's even kicked his shoes off. Shaggy black hair falls into his eyes and he shakes his head enough to clear his sight, his eyes then falling onto yours- you've been caught.

"Like what you see?" He teases, head rolling to his shoulder to face you completely.

"No," You lie with a grin, propping yourself up on your elbow. "Not at all. Personally, I'm not a fan of having dead people in my bed."

Jeongin laughs at that, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. You watch him relax, sliding further down into your pillows with a content expression. As much as you want to join him in seemingly falling asleep, you still need to change and wash up. But-

"I gotta go," You say, rolling off the side of your bed.

"What?" Jeongin sits up, hands behind him. "Why?"

"Changbin wants to hang out."

"I thought you were in for the night?" Jeongin's voice goes higher at the end of the sentence.

"Me too! But it's been so long since we've done something fun. Now, which is better? This," You hold a plain black dress up to your body. "-or this?"

You switch the black for a dark red strapless shirt and some black pants and watch his reaction. Although he hesitates, you can already tell he's thinking the second and you toss the dress back toward your closet. After he covers his eyes, you change quickly and do some last touch-ups before leaving the room. Jeongin follows you and you both keep an eye outside for Changbin.

"Be careful, okay?" Jeongin talks low, keeping his eyes on the road when you look over at him. "Lots of energy in those kinds of places, don't need you getting hurt. Especially if you're planning on drinking."

"Are you worried about me?" You tease.

"No, I just don't want you to become one of us before my case is solved."

"Cold."

"Just like my case." This makes you laugh, a light catching the corner of your eye.

Changbin steps out of his vehicle and starts to approach, but you're already waving goodbye to Jeongin and exiting before he can get up the steps to the front door. The night air is crisp, goosebumps forming on your exposed skin, but you're quickly ushered into the warmth of the car. In the window of your house, you can still see Jeongin watching when you drive off. On the way to the bar, you and Changbin sing along to his daily playlist to bring up the mood, and it works incredibly well. By the time you're entering the building, any thoughts of ghosts and death are gone.

Ordering two of the same drink, you and Changbin sit with your backs to the bar and observe the others, making up backstories for each person who passes by you or seems interesting. About four drinks later, Changbin has convinced you to join him on the dance floor. One more drink, and you find yourself surrounded by strangers, distracted by the loud music flowing through your veins. It seeps into your skin and you can feel the beat moving inside you, letting your body take control. In front of you, Changbin shows off his moves and you can hear people cheering, but you know to him it's just the two of you here.

The music slows and so does your body, adrenaline leaving as you brush some hair out of your face. Changbin's expression is all scrunched up in a pout and you laugh at the way he appears to be going in slow motion; it's funny, that is until you notice how everyone around you is following his lead. Panic starts to settle heavy in your chest, turning every direction to try and spot what's causing this.

You sway on your feet as you see the first spirit weaving through the bodies toward you. There's a hole in the center of his head, dried blood crusted down his nose and chin. Moving back to the bar, you stop when you almost hit the chest of someone else; her eyes are dark as she towers over you and you step away. You let your body guide you away, walking turning into a frantic dance to avoid the mass amount of spirits that seem to be mixed with the crowd. The exit isn't too far now, but you seem to be getting sluggish purely from being near this many spirits. You can hear your breathing turn to wheezing as you stumble forward with a hand out, your fingers barely brushing the red handle before someone is wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you away. There's no fight left in you, your eyelids heavy and your body falling limp. Someone is calling your name as you're torn away from whoever is holding you, blurry visions of colourful figures above you being the last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut.

When your eyes open, you don't recognize the room you're in. Dust falls from the ceiling, visible in the moonlight coming through a window above you, white curtains pulled to the side. The bed you're in is much too small for your body, pale blue sheets twisted under your legs. Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you sit up slowly, a wave of dizziness rocking you. Once it's over, you take in the rest of the room.

It appears to be a child's bedroom, string lights pinned corner to corner emitting a dim gold on the walls. Tucked in the corner is a small desk with art supplies messily organized in compartments, one cup of paintbrushes knocked over with dried paint water soaked into a drawing. You stand and pick up the drawing; there's two boys standing by water, but one has been smudged by the spillage. They seem to be watching something out there, but the drawing is unfinished.

Directly next to the desk is an open door leading into a short hallway. Stairs lead downward with candles melting over the railing, wax dripping onto the wooden steps. As you walk toward the stairs, you can't help but look at all the photos covering the walls. Most are artsy, decorative shots, but one in particular catches your eye. There's a family of four, but the photo is torn at the parent's middle, leaving only the children to be seen holding hands and smiling wide. It's almost unsettling.

Following the pathway, it ends at the doorway to what looks like a living room, but all the furniture is covered in white sheets. You cover your mouth to suppress a noise when you spot a man standing by a fireplace. The sound of your hand slapping over your mouth must have alerted him, his head whipping around to look at you.

"What are you...?" He's turning fully now, head tilted to the side and eyes squinting. You have to hold in another gasp when you realize it's Hyunjin you're looking at.

"I don't know," you reply quietly, bringing your hand back to your side. "I've never been here before. I don't know where I am."

"You shouldn't be able to get in here. You-" He stalks toward you and grabs your wrists, bringing you into the room with him.

You watch his eyes widen as the moonlight hits you, eyebrows knitting together and mouth falling open slightly. The grip on your wrists is bruising, and he gives no sign of letting go. There's a shift in the air and he looks away from you and past your head, eyes narrowing at something in the space behind you.

"Back off," He warns, and you're almost too scared to know what he's seeing. "Stay right there."

His voice wavers, hands finally loosening and you're able to pull away completely. This, however, is a mistake. Hyunjin is reaching for you again with a shout of your name as hands grab you from behind, tearing you away from the room, the house, this whole place.

With a gasp, you sit up in a hospital bed, lights blinding you. Someone is touching you, trying to calm you, but you fight them off; you've had enough of peoples skin on yours. Head in your hands, you take deep breathes and notice just how badly you're shaking. You hadn't even realized you were crying until now.

"Y/n! It's just me-" Changbin's voice is clear beside you now that you're a bit more adjusted. "Hey, it's just me. You passed out."

"What?" You finally let him settle you back against the stiff pillow. "I did?"

"Yeah, and I think it's ghost related, but I don't know," Changbin shifts in his chair uncomfortably. "Jeongin's been blowing up your phone."

He hands you the small device and you unlock it to see he's right, Jeongin has been blowing up your phone.

Jeongin replaces Changbin, sitting in the chair with his legs crossed at the ankles. Neither of you talk, but he does stare at you with concern visible on his face. You lay down on your side, keeping your eyes on him as you get comfortable, or at least as much as you can be. There's a moment when he opens his mouth, but a nurse comes into the room to check on you before he can say anything. She explains you'll be able to go home soon, just rest for now.

When she leaves, you sigh. "I wish I never left my bed."

"Me too," Jeongin admits quietly, a faint blush of red creeping up his neck and you giggle.

The energy with him is so different than other spirits and you can't understand why. With him, it's warm, easy; It's not draining or unwelcoming in the slightest. Being with him feels nice, like a dream you don't want to leave.

Jeongin follows you out of the hospital, into the cab they provide, and back into your home. He waits outside of your bedroom as you change, opening the door to let him back in. Crawling into bed, you catch a glimpse of Jeongin next to you. This is the first time you've seen him look so unguarded since you've met, so peaceful, and you drift into sleep thinking of him.

notes ~ this is unedited bc it's 2:30 am and i'm tired so pls ignore any mistakes lol

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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fairyysoup · 2 hours

Text

it will come back

part one

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.

cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)

a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.

In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.

Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month.

There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.

Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.

(You don’t believe that, either.)

You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.

You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust.

You usually do what you’re told. Usually.

On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.

You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors.

Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.

It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.

You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.

It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body.

You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt.

The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.”

You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.

“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”

The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness.

“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”

The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.

“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.”

Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.

You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg.

“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin.

You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry.

You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”

As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.

You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.

“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding.

You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement.

“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it.

You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.

“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”

The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved.

You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.

You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.

In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.

By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.

You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night.

But you know it to be true. You know it.

How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it.

Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.

“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!”

You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!”

You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think.

There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house.

One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served.

Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers.

You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby.

“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh.

“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.

You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.

“Um,” is all you can say.

“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.

His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.

“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.”

“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?”

“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”

“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.

He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”

You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”

“Thereabouts.”

You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”

You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.”

“Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?”

You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.

The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.

You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”

“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.”

“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?”

“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.”

“That’s forward of you.”

“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?”

You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.

“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…”

“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”

“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”

Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”

You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”

You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”

You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of.

You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them.

“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”

“A dream?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”

You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”

“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”

You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast.

Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.

“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside.

Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice.

#teaser for what's coming. if you even care #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #werewolf!eddie munson #werewolf!eddie munson x reader #stranger things #werewolf!eddie #roses*

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strangestofthings12 · 14 hours

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This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say

Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.

With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.

This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.

I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.

I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater

Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip

#911 #buddie #anti bucktommy #i guess??#i dont know #i dont know what to tag this and just hope i dont upset anyone #anti tommy kinard #again i guess #but not really??#let me know if i need to add any tags:)

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homelanderbutbig · 1 day

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A Quaint House With a White-Picket Fence (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1139 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You teach Homelander about Animal Crossing.

With a rare day off, you decided to spend your afternoon doing something you haven't been able to for a while, play Animal Crossing. Homelander has never played a video game before, and he has made it perfectly clear to you that he has zero interest in doing so. He is also not shy at showing his jealousy at how engrossed you get playing your silly games instead of paying attention to him. As a result, you usually only play for short periods of time when you're alone.

Today was different. You have been doing nothing all day except play Animal Crossing, just like you used to do before moving into the Tower. You don't even hear him storming into the penthouse, in one of his signature grumpy moods. Grumbling irritatedly seeing you lounging on the couch, he can't believe you aren't acknowledging him and inviting him over for a cuddle like you always do. It's not like he's easy to miss.

Homelander walks over in front of the couch, attempting to make a point with his purposefully loud footsteps. And yet, you still don't even look up as he looms over you. Rolling his eyes, he places his hands on his hips as he taps his fingers on his belt. He can feel his anger bubbling to the surface, with the annoying little beeps and boops coming from the game only serving to aggravate him further.

Finally, he's had enough at watching you ignore him. With a motion so fast you barely even register what is happening, he picks you up so he can lie down on the couch, keeping you on top of him. His arms are wrapped immovably around your waist while his big head is snuggled firmly on your shoulder. He lets out a deep huff from his nose, making certain that you know how exasperated you've made him.

You stay there for a moment of tense silence, waiting for him to say something first. You feel bad for not even noticing him, but you want to see where he is mentally before you make a move.

"What is this?" he eventually asks you, contempt dripping from his voice. If you won't stop playing this dumb thing, he may as well learn what it is.

"Animal Crossing," you tell him, laughing as you practically feel him rolling his eyes. Ah, he's in one of these moods.

"It's a game where you get to play in this cute village and just do whatever," you try to clarify. "You can fish, catch bugs, decorate your house, and make friends with your neighbours. It's relaxing."

"…Why?" he retorts. He is baffled at how doing things in this game that you could do in real-life would have you so fixated.

"I dunno, it's hard to explain," you respond. "There's no stress in this world, no time-limits or deadlines. It's like… an escape."

Homelander is hushed as he contemplates your answer. The appeal still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.

"What… are you playing as?" he enquires, brow furrowing slightly. Your tiny avatar appears to be a boy with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a blue shirt with an eagle design.

"I tried making you," you answer honestly, with a brief giggle. You click a mysterious button on your gaming device, and suddenly this character is smiling wide back at him.

"You… made me?" he ponders, rubbing his head into the nape of your neck.

"Yeah, I normally just make myself but… I wanted to see how you'd look too," you smile, returning his nuzzle. "You turned out cute, right?"

He sighs, not dignifying you with a response. This facsimile is nowhere near his level of perfection, but at least you tried.

"What's that noise?" he mumbles. "It sounds like a bug."

"What direction is it coming from?" you respond. "It might be a mole cricket, I haven't caught one of those yet."

"To the left," he guides you, using his super hearing to easily discern the origin of the bug's droning call. "Under that rock."

Homelander watches as you pull out your shovel and hit the rock, causing a cricket to pop out which you swiftly catch with your net.

"Look at that! We caught a mole cricket!" you exclaim.

"…Now what?" he queries. He doesn't understand why you seem to excited over this, it's just a disgusting, insignificant insect.

"Now we take it to the museum, so Blathers can put it on display," you reply.

"And what, we get a reward for it?" he asks.

"No, it's just for fun!" you attempt to explain. "We can get a golden net if we catch all the different kinds of bugs though!"

Once again, he feels flabbergasted by your reasonings. This is just one of those weird human things of yours that he figures he will never understand, no matter how many questions he asks.

Homelander decides to stay quiet for a while, simply observing as you go about your activities. Seeing you run around this confined space, pointlessly catching more bugs and fish. Listening to you tell him which animal villagers are your favourites, showing him your house and how you decorated every room.

Strangely, the longer he watches you play, the more relaxed he starts to feel. It's weird, seeing your miniature caricature of him running around this fake town. He's just spending his days trapped in this virtual world, living in a quaint house with a white-picket fence, surrounded by friendly neighbours… without anybody staring at him like he's a freak… without a care in the world.

He's living the life Homelander always wished he could.

"Do you think we could ever live in a place like this?" he contemplates in a somber voice. The genuineness of his thought takes you by surprise.

To be honest, you don't have an answer for him. Vought has such a tight grip on every aspect of his life, you aren't sure if he'll ever be able to be free of their influence. He's never known what it's like to be 'normal', his entire existence has been dictated for him, his every opinion pre-calculated for what's best for the company.

"Hey, why don't we spend the weekend at your cabin?" you suggest, trying to pivot the heavy conversation away to something more tangible. You put your game down to caress his cheek, feeling him angle his head into your touch. "Just the two of us, no schedules or worries."

You can feel a little smile spread across your shoulder at your proposal. Homelander tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, cherishing the feeling of your small stature in his arms. He's glad you aren't able to see his face right now, letting him hide the fact that he's blinking away forming tears.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I'd like that".

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing #animal crossing wild world was my shit as a kid

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idcfriend · 22 hours

Text

A Spoon Full of Sugar- Mary Poppins

Yuu only wanted to clean and fix up Ramshackle a bit they have no idea why everyone's freaking out...

Now the day started out normal...well as normal as a day in NRC can be anyway, it was the weekend so Yuu wanted to do some clean up around their dorm the only problem was that-

*CRASH* "I ain't gonna do it! The Great Grim is too great for chores!"

You sighed, "Grim if you're not going to help at least don't make a bigger mess" you said mildly annoyed

All you wanted was to do a little cleaning was that to much to ask? You looked around before you looked back to Grim and grinned getting an idea.

"Hey Grim, what if i showed you a fun way to clean, would you?"

Grim stopped, looking at you with a curious expression, "A fun way to clean this dump?" the way he said it making it sound like you had told him you knew the meaning of life or something

"Yeah fun" you smiled as you stood up with a broom in hand

In every job that must be done

There is an element of fun

You sang while looking at Grim with a grin while walking around the room sweeping the floor, and as you did so wherever you stepped seemed to become brand new

You find the fun and...snap!

You said snapping your fingers fixing the seating area as Grim looked around in awe watching as it looked as if time was going in reverse making everything as it was long ago

The job's a game!

And every task you undertake

Becomes a piece of cake

"Why don't you give it a try Grim?" you asked with a teasing smile

"Really? Heck ya! Let me show ya how It's done henchman!" said Grim excitedly running to the broken and snapping his...paws? And watched as the fireplace fixed itself, "Woah..." said Grim as he looked from you to the fireplace causing you to laugh

"Come on Grim, there's still a lot left to do" you said as you walked away from the fixed lounge as Grim scrambled to follow

A lark! A spree!

It's very clear to see

You continued to sing while walking unaware of the a few visitors from Heartstanbyul making their way to your dorm

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Do you guys really need to follow us to the prefect's dorm? Can't you apologize some other time?" asked Ace annoyed

"Ace! Show respect to our seniors!" said Deuce, "but I guess i agree a bit with Ace, can't you guys apologize another time?"

As the group of five approached Ramshackle Trey could vaguely hear....music?

"It is imperative that I apologize as soon as possible for my actions-" said Riddle before Cater cut him off

"Hey not to be a spoilsport or anything but do guys hear that?" said Cater in a mildly curious tone

Slowly the group made their way to Ramshackle managing to enter without being seen and what they saw was...surprising

There was Yuu singing while cleaning while snapping they're fingers every once in while causing their surroundings to be...fixed?!

"Woah..." whispered Deuce

"You can say that again juice" responded Ace

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Yuu continued to tidy up the dorm while having fun teasing Grim

A spoonful full of sugar helps the medicine go down

The medice go down

Medicine go down~

"What medicine are you talking about henchman?" Grim asked confused as you walked (more like waltzed) by

You giggled, "It's a figure of speech Grim there's no actual medicine but if you pay attention maybe you can figure it out~"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Author note:

....Sorry guys i gave up on this one 😅

#im making no sense #but im bored #i crave chaos #and sleep #twisted wonderland yuu #disney song yuu #twst yuu #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst mc #twst x yuu

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whatthebodygraspsnot · 12 hours

Note

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” additional tags: (wrongly) assumed infidelity, miscommunication that gets resolved, this must be an au bc mickey would obv never interrupt his own sleep to leave the apartment

Mickey steps carefully into their apartment, taking great care to shut the door without being too loud. He closes it with barely a click. But nothing can prepare him for what happens next.

When Mickey turns, it’s like he’s stepped right into a 90s romantic drama, the single floor lamp clicking on to shine in a perfect spotlight, revealing where his husband is very much awake, and very much waiting for his return.

He’s sitting on the couch. Tucked up in his bathrobe and the most unimpressed frown.

“Fuck.”

“Who is he?”

Mickey glances from left to right. Behind himself. Looks at Ian again, his heart still pounding in his chest from the startle. “Who’s who?”

“Don’t gimme that.” And now Ian’s standing up, gathering his robe around himself as he prepares to fire off The Chin. “You disappear every night - yes, I noticed,” he states before Mickey can interrupt. “Bring a bag with you… Come home sweaty… I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re fucking bad at hiding this, Mickey.”

It takes a second for everything to sink in. For the endorphins from the last couple hours to start pumping upward into his brain this time.

And… Damn.

Ian caught him.

To be perfectly honest, Mickey thought he was getting away with this shit - was being real cagey and everything too - even getting a shower in before sliding back into bed with him.

“Two hours. That enough to meet up with him and do what you gotta do?”

Meet up with who? Yeah right. “You think I can get somebody out at this hour?” Mickey asks, his confusion starting to put him on edge. “Been doing this shit all on my own. Well-... I mean ‘cept for the other handful of guys who show up sometimes…”

And the way Ian’s eyebrows rise is almost as startling as how he stops in his tracks, repeating the words back to him with dragged out intensity. “‘Handful of guys’...?”

It’s got Mickey slugging his bag off his shoulder, the dramatics of it all really killing his high. “Christ, Ian. What’re you bein’ so bitchy for-”

“What am I being bitchy for.” There he goes again, repeating shit. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Mickey are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah - what - I was doin’ this shit for you, anyway. Thought you’d at least be excited about it.”

Oh. Fuck. Ian does not like that. “Excited?” Off comes the robe, in a flurry of angry movements. He’s running hot, and not in a good way. “Why the fuck would I be excited about my husband cheating on me!”

And it’s-...

He’s-...

Wait a second.

“What?”

“You thought you could go out every night and meet up with a ‘handful of guys’ and I’d be jumping for joy?” He sure is using air quotes like he’s having a good time with it, but no no no-

“What the-...” Mickey shakes his head, trying to clear the air because holy fuck, “I ain’t fuckin’ cheating on you, Ian - the hell?”

“You just said-”

“Christ, you think I’m out bangin’ other dudes?”

“Wuh-...! You-...!”

Mickey rubs a hand over his mouth, everything suddenly making a whole lot of sense. The dramatics. The theater of it all. Ian was catching him coming home from the act, but ‘the act’ ended up being two very different things in their respective heads.

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes out, going for his bag so he can put that thought immediately out of Ian’s head. “Look.”

He tugs the zipper open. Starts dumping out its contents on the floor right between them - his gym shoes - his old-ass iPod - a workout shirt - socks that stink so bad that they’re all he really needed to avoid all this. One whiff would’ve immediately made things clear.

But it’s enough now. Ian is slowly putting all the pieces together, the worry in his brow evening out and his chin returning to normal pointedness. Finally.

“You…” you says, hope returning. “You’ve been…going to the gym…?”

Mickey gestures to the pile of clothes in between them, his tone evening into something honest. “Yeah, man. Thought you wouldn’t notice once you knocked out…”

Ian eyes over everything one more time. Then slowly, his lips pull into a small pout, those eyes flicking away. “I notice every time you’re not in bed.” ‘Bitch.’ He wants to add it so bad. Mickey can practically see it trying to break through.

But he doesn’t. And there’s something so sheepish and honest and vulnerable about it, that Mickey can’t help but smile, peace returning as he stuffs his clothes and shoes back into his bag. “Fuck would I ever cheat on you for, ya dummy?”

A beat passes. Thoughts lingering. “I dunno… I just thought-...”

“Well stop.” It sure makes a lot of sense, though. Now that he sees it through that lens. Fuck, he’d probably think the same thing if their roles were switched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to getchya all riled up…”

“S’okay…” Ian watches as Mickey gets himself sorted. Still has a lot of questions trying to get out - he can tell. And it starts with this one. “What do you mean you were doing this for me?”

It’s the correct one - right away. And Mickey’s glad he asked, actually. Because if he must know…

The floorboards creak beneath his shoes as he steps up into Ian’s space, his muscles warmed up and ready enough to finally show off his skills.

And when he does it - when he wrangles his giant-ass husband in and hauls him up until he's got those thick thighs straddling his waist, Ian’s startle and wide eyes say it all as Mickey slots him up against the wall - all two hundred pounds - keeping him held up in his arms.

“Been goin’ to the gym so I can lift ya,” he preens, impressed with his own strength.

Because he’s been working for this moment. For the look of sheer shock in Ian’s eyes from the rush of it - how it simmers into delight and pride and something much, much steamier the longer he holds him up.

And damn, that little breathy, impressed laugh that huffs out between them. “Fuck, Mick…”

Oh yeah. This is what all that 2am weightlifting has been for.

“You like that, huh?” Mickey grins, the atmosphere shifting familiar and fun - heavy in a good way. “This do it for ya?”

From his arms, Ian nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he takes a second to eat Mickey up with his eyes, those big arms wrapping around the back of his neck.

He probably thought he was doing a decent job at hiding how hot he gets with this - when Mickey can make him feel small and moveable.

They’re both absolute dogshit at keeping secrets, it turns out.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#gallavich #ray writes #smutty one-liners

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oxymorayuri · 3 days

Text

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part six

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the overview. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: language, !S.A.! Mainly noises, no exact description of the process, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 5678

tagging: @lazyninjatheorist - @sassyyassi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @littleleelee

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: yanfenguo_gao

"Travelling around like ordinary people is a really good thing…" You look over to Ace as he licks his ice cream happily.

Together you walk around the passenger ship. You were lucky to get the last two tickets and now it will be a whole day before you arrive at your destination… Dressrosa.

Even though you are happily licking your ice cream, your eyes are looking around attentively. You may not be on Dressrosa yet, but you're already at work.

"It definitely has its benefits, but I suggest you keep your eyes open Ace…" You stop at the railing and look down from the second floor to the lower deck and watch the people.

You count them and try to separate who you've already seen. Fortunately, with so few people, it's quite clear and in the back of your mind you try to spot any suspicious people.

So far, you've only been able to count 16 people who look like typical travelers. Families gathered on the lower level to watch the fish in the sea or couples strolling across the deck, gazing at the open sea. At the thought, your gaze wanders to the side, to Ace, who is still busy with his ice cream. A reluctant grin forms on your lips as you watch him.

With the ice cream in your hands, you really do look like a normal couple. You don't really know why that makes you smile, after all, that's the plan…

"Hey Ace, let me see the tickets. I'd like to see where our cabin is." He looks at you, a little dumbfounded.

"Cabin?" He reaches into his trouser pocket with one free hand and hands you the tickets.

"Yes, the trip to Dressrosa takes about a day, what did you think?" - "I don't know, I didn't think it would take that long. With the Moby Dick we'd easily be there in five hours…" he remarks while he's busy with his ice cream.

You can't help giggling and shake your head.

"The Moby Dick is a completely different story compared to a ferry." You lean back against the railing and look up at Ace.

"This is a ship for travelers." You watch him stuff the last bit of his waffle into his mouth, while you still have some of your last scoop left and he looks down at you confused.

"We're travelers on the Moby Dick too. I don't see the difference." You look dreamily at the people below you. It's true that you pirates are just travelers too. Travelers in a different way… But on your downward missions you also enjoyed the simple life. Between all the spying, you still had time to enjoy the area, after all, that's part of your facade… And who knows what you'll hear and see around the next corner…

You once sat down in the casino for fun, to strip the spoiled rich. The evening was promising. Gosh, some men are so easy to influence. First you got them to bet more with your seductive manner. Then you challenged them, questioned their wealth and flirted with them. These men have nothing more to do than brag about their money and show off.

How boring... but good for you, because you always win. Not in an honest way, of course, but you sit down at the table with the intention of cheating, so at least you're being honest with yourself. But that evening there was someone at the table who, although he had lost some money, had won something new.

Interest.

He invited you into the private area of the casino, without knowing that you were actually his employee. Crocodile had his eye on you and your cunning manner and wanted to show you that it didn't hurt him one bit, that you had won a handsome amount of money from him.

What he didn't know was that you were already working for him but in a wig, of course.

When you steal from people, you rarely do it as the person you're 'pretending' to be, so you went into your boss's casino with your natural hair. Starting as a guest and ended up in the VIP area by Crocodile's side; It can be that easy...

Crocodile has been a very generous man and even if you hardly want to admit it, you kind of enjoyed it.

He has a very charismatic demeanor and is a sharp businessman. You had a few things in common and the atmosphere was quite pleasant. Being with him made you feel different but in the back of your mind you always remembered that he was your enemy. But the feeling of leading this double life was thrilling.

Of course, as the owner of the casino, lots of interesting people wanted to talk to him. How foolish. Things are discussed in front of you, that a stranger shouldn't hear, but Crocodile was too busy having you by his side as a fancy accessory.

"Hey y/n take a look at these guys."

Ace voice pulls you out of your memory... you don't even know how you got there but it doesn't matter anymore. Your eyes wander to the men Ace is pointing at. Rolling your eyes, you take Ace's arm down.

"Don't point at them like that. If they look up, they'll notice us." You say calmly to him. You look after the men as they disappear from your field of vision and even when you lean over the railing you can no longer see them. You curse slightly to yourself.

"They're gone." Ace mumbles as he does the same and leans over the railing. At the same time, you look each other in the eye and nod.

Without another word, you both head down to the lower floor and try to track down the suspicious figures. Compared to a map of the ship and which way they were going, they must have walked to the private cabins.

The chances are slim, but you won't let any opportunity pass by. You walk along the corridor with quick but silent steps until you reach the end and find yourself in a circular lobby with several rooms. But no sign of the men.

"Hm, we seem to have lost them…" Ace put his hands on his hips and looked at one door after the other. Just before you were about to turn around, one of the doors opened and the shady gentlemen stepped out of the door with two women.

You quickly throw yourself at Ace and lead him to a door nearby so that you don't look suspicious.

You giggle at Ace in a somewhat drunken voice.

"Darliiiiiiing.. don't tell me you left the key at the bar again…" a little surprised, he caught you and looked at the men and immediately understood what was going on. He pulled you closer to him with one arm and searched for the imaginary keys in his pockets as the men walked past you.

"Sorry my love, I was just so lost in your eyes that I forgot them there…" You chuckle lovingly as you wrap your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You had only meant to make it look like a kiss on the lips, but Ace pulled you towards him so that your kiss landed directly on his mouth.

A little startled, you wanted to push away from him but Ace stopped you by holding your face and whispering a grinning 'play along' on your lips. You realize that it would be conspicuous if you ended your kiss abruptly, but you can't shake the feeling that Ace is shamelessly taking advantage of the situation.

For a brief moment they give you a few glances but they're obviously buying the act.

When they have passed, you break away from Ace and return to a normal stance but speak in your sugary sweet voice.

"Aww honey, then let's go back to the bar and have another drink!" You look at Ace and nod in the men's direction to make it clear that you're following them now.

Together you chase after the four people. At one point, one of the women turns around and you quickly latch onto Ace, gazing up at him lovingly to avoid looking dubious.

As you expected, Ace played along wonderfully. He put his arm around your shoulder and paid attention only to you as if no one else was around you. He even went a step further and gave you a sweet Eskimo kiss with his nose. His teasing grin may be cute on the outside but you can see his real smirk behind it. He's enjoying being close to you for the sake of the show and you immediately blush…

"Look forward and don't fall behind, you stupid bitch." Somewhat roughly, one of the men grabbed the woman by the shoulder and pulled her towards him. You couldn't help but notice the look on her face. A hopeless look.

When their backs are turned to you again, you look at them with skepticism. The gentlemen are well dressed, but you can see a small tattoo on the neck of one of them… Where have you seen this tattoo before? It looks familiar…

The ladies are dolled up like slutty escorts, don't speak a word and are downright terrified. You know what that means and that is, that you need to find out more about them.

At the bar of the restaurant, you watch the small group eating from a safe distance. The women were so frightened that they hardly ate anything or looked up from their plates…

You grit your teeth and turn to Ace.

"This is going to be trickier than I thought. So far they've only talked about unimportant things…" - " Then we'll have to get in touch with the women somehow…" he observes the women with slightly narrowed eyes. It's clear to you that these people play an important role when it comes to your mission.

You rummage for something in your handbag.

"Good idea Ace... the men don't seem stupid enough to talk in public but we can work this out." The black haired man leans towards you while holding onto his drink with one hand.

"What do we do now?" You already have a rough idea, you know that no matter where the women go, they will be watched, but there is one place where they will be alone for a brief moment. The toilet.

You ask the bartender for a pen and paper and write down a few words, folding the paper several times.

"Watch and learn." You lean forward towards Ace and smile at him with a confident wink.

You take one last sip from your glass and slide off the bar stool to go to the toilets. Luckily, the suspects are sitting right on the way there and you fall in a dramatic and skilled fashion, right next to the one woman. You try to hold on to the table but you knock her glass down with you. With flushed cheeks, you look up at her and grab her by the arm to apologize profusely.

You put some money on the table for the spilled drink and take one of her hands and again you apologize sincerely to her while you press your note into her hand under the table.

The gentlemen watch attentively as you place her glass but say nothing and just look you up and down.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed your meal, have a nice day!" and embarrassed, you scurry down the corridor to the toilets.

Behind the door of the ladies room, your embarrassed expression disappears immediately and you head straight for the first toilet to carry out the second part of your plan.

You write a few words on another piece of paper, but this time you write more. You have to hurry because you don't have much time. Their plates are almost empty and when they leave the restaurant there won't be another chance.

Hastily you write the last words in a sloppy handwriting and fold the paper up again. You take one of the spy buds out of your handbag and tape it together with the note to the lid of the toilet. Then you leave the lid up so that nobody will see it…

In the meantime, Ace watches as the woman carefully read the note you gave her under the table. Without looking at it, she hides the note in her nylons.

When you came out of the bathroom and sat down next to Ace, you heard her say that she needed to use the toilet and one of the men wiped his mouth in annoyance.

"You women are annoying, I'll be glad when this job is done…"

"Get up and go ahead," he said as he stood up as well.

They both disappeared in the direction of the ladies room and, as you assumed, the guy didn't even have the shame to wait outside. He went into the restroom with her, but you know it's unlikely he'll go into the stall with her.

You turn your back to the remaining people and swirl your glass.

"What kind of performance was that? That was awesome and absolutely natural!" Ace is visibly surprised by your little act.

"That's a piece of cake." - "A piece of cake?! Even I thought you fell down for real y/n… that was incredible." With a proud grin, you clink glasses with each other.

"Now we just have to wait and see if she plays along." - "I believe she does. She hid your note in her tights, I think she definitely doesn't want to be there."

Your gaze wanders to the side but you don't answer him. Even if she wants to cooperate, you won't be able to help her. If you help her escape, it could cause trouble and endanger the actual mission.

Your goal is not to be a hero, but to play an informant. Just like for those men there, she's just a mere tool for your own benefit… You feel a little sick to yourself, you know what's waiting for these girls in the end and you don't wish it on anyone, but either you bring Doflamingo down and stop this slave trade completely, or you save two girls and get caught.

You have to make that decision. You're not proud of it but honestly it's never been hard for you because you know that the actual goal would help a lot more people.

Also, if you are exposed, then people will keep an eye on the Whitebeard pirates and that would be unfortunate for you…

You don't even notice how you're biting your lip the whole time. It's a little habit of yours, especially when you're deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" It doesn't go unnoticed how you chew your bottom lip. Amused, he nudges you with his elbow as you still don't react. A little startled, you look up at him and blush as you stare into his eyes. Ace sitting next to you while you're on a mission is still strange. You're used to being alone and having Ace as your partner doesn't make it any better…

"Just that you might be right." You look ahead. You keep your true thoughts to yourself for now.

"Really?" A little too happy for your taste, Ace smiles to himself as he looks into his glass.

"Tell me, what did you write on the note?" - "On the first one, that if she's in danger, she should go to the bathroom. I left her another message in the first stall…" You carefully take the second earphone out of your pocket and hold it up to Ace's face. He raises his eyebrow a little as though he can't fully understand.

"I offered her a deal." You pause for a moment, secretly knowing you won't keep this deal. It's all for the bigger picture, you keep telling yourself.

"If she makes the deal, we'll be able to eavesdrop on them later when they're in their private rooms." You play with the earphone between your fingers like it's a marble. It makes click in Ace's head and he gets the idea.

"That's perfect! Sooner or later they'll talk!" Ace is clearly looking overjoyed, as if the job is already done.

"Not quite yet… When they leave, I'll see what kind of answer she leaves me…" You nod toward the restrooms and Ace nods in agreement. Chances are good, but inside you're preparing a plan B.

After a while, as your possible accomplice came back out of the restroom with the other man, all four of them left the restaurant.

The moment of truth has arrived. Will she play along?

You wait a moment until they are out of sight and get up.

"Pay the bill… after I get back we should head to our room." Ace nods at you and calls the bartender over.

Your heart is pounding as you open the door to the stall. Will you have an easy game or will you have to come up with a new plan?

You briefly squint your eyes as you close the door behind you. For a moment, you hesitate before looking at her answer.

If she goes along with it, she should flush your letter down the toilet and put the earphone in. If not, she should tear up your letter and throw it in the bin.

You hold your breath without realizing as you open the trash can... There is no letter in there.

Satisfied, you exhale. She is playing along.

You quickly make your way back to Ace, who is still waiting for you at the bar. He looks at you intensely as if he wants to read the answer from your face.

"And?"

"Let's go into our room and discuss everything else."

As soon as you arrive in your room, you get everything ready.

You place a Den Den Mushi on a table and plug in your one earphone. You flick a few switches on the snail so that their voices can be heard aloud but no one can hear you. You don't want her to hear what you say or find out who you are. A name alone would be already bad... If the men discover the earpiece, the risk of her talking is too high. The less she knows about you, the better.

Ace watched you connect the equipment, as if you had done it thousands of times before and sat down on the bed.

When you're done, you drop down next to him on the bed and stare at the speaker. For a while you stare at the snail as it plays the voices of the men. So far the conversations have been meaningless, but you are aware that this can take a while. They probably won't talk while the women are awake.

The silence is interrupted when Ace's stomach makes itself heard. Embarrassed, he grips the back of his neck and mumbles a quiet 'sorry'. The blush on his face makes you giggle because he's really adorable whenever he's embarrassed.

You think for a moment... It would also do you some good to eat, so you crawl to the other side of the bed, because there was a phone on the nightstand. Ace's eyes follow you discreetly as you reach across the bed. His gaze travels up your long legs to your ass.

Oh, how he would love to grab you by the hips and push your dress up so he could look at your ass. Your lovely curves shimmer slightly through your dress, but he pulls himself together and banishes his desires.

Now is not the right time and he doesn't want to mess things up with you. The day will come when you belong to him, he will make sure of that, but he knows how important this mission is to you. He knows how much you enjoy your job and, above all, how well you do it.

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts and the only thing he catches is you saying goodbye and putting the phone down.

"The food should be here in half an hour, I hope your stomach can hold out until then." You plop down next to him again and lean over to him with a broad smirk.

At first he seemed a little surprised, but this expression quickly changed on his face and his lips curled into a mischievous grin instead.

"Maybe you could distract me a little…" His voice is so seductive and low… you suddenly get quite warm and open your mouth but no words come out. Should you go along and take it to the extreme or should you break the atmosphere?

You think of Marco's words; you shouldn't deepen these feelings, they lead to nothing.

But the desire is great. Unconsciously, you lean further forward and look at him with innocent eyes.

"What would you like?" You won't grant him that he's the one in control. Let him tell you about his fantasies… Maybe you'll like it? You don't have to do it, but hearing it will be good for your self esteem.

He exhales with a small laugh and looks down.

His fingers search for a bare spot on your body and you allow him to caress your thigh.

Just as he was about to open his mouth, you hear the men through the Den Den Mushi.

"When are we meeting with the guy tomorrow?" Your eyes shoot over to the snail and both of you are completely back to work. You reach for your notebook, it could be getting interesting now.

You interlace your fingers and listen attentively to their conversation.

"He said we should come straight to the moulin rouge to deliver the goods." - "Okay, very good." A short pause follows and you write down the name. Moulin rouge… writing it down you add 'address' with a question mark. You assume it's a brothel or something similar, but Dressrosa is big…

"Tell me Johnny, why don't we test the 'goods' before we deliver them?" Your stomach is churning, you sense something bad.

A dirty laugh sounds through the speaker, followed by desperate screams from the women. With contorted faces, you listen to the panicked and tormented cries until Ace decides to turn off the snail.

"I'm sorry y/n but one more second and I'll break down their door…" Ace clenches his fists, he's about to storm off but you get up and grab his hands to calm him down.

"Yeah yeah, I know… but we'll make sure everyone gets free…" As long as they're not already sold to a rich buyer... but you won't let Ace know that.

At your gentle voice, Ace's body begins to relax and his jaw unclenches. You can understand him, it was cruel to listen to. Even though you would have liked to know more than just a name, you could no longer listen to these desperate cries. You were only a second away and then you would have turned off the Den Den Mushi yourself.

After the food was brought to you, you worked on a few notes you had made about the day. You've added questions that you hope will be answered on the mission, something that helps you keep track of things, and without you realizing it, Ace looks over your shoulder as he stuffs his face with food.

"Aren't you hungry at all?" he remarks as he looks at your barely touched plate.

You literally wake up from your work mode and find yourself in a room with Ace. He recognizes your slight confusion and looks at your plate. You look at your plate a little slowly and your stomach turns immediately, feeling starved.

"Ah yes, you're right…" You put the notes aside and start eating.

Ace joins you at the small table and you eat together while you talk about all sorts of things. Ace almost glows as he talks about his brothers and their adventures. With your chin in your hand, you listen to him attentively. You enjoy this carefree moment with Ace.

"Tell me y/n what happened before the Whitebeard pirates? Where's your family?" You lean back in your chair with a somewhat troubled look on your face. You don't like talking about the time before the Whitebeard Pirates… For you, your life started when you followed Whitebeard.

Ace doesn't miss the change and seems a little panicked as he assures you that you don't have to tell him. That's exactly why you don't want to get involved with Ace. The closer the bond, the more you confide in him.

So far, all you've experienced is separation and a feeling of vulnerability. You've shown them your weak side and that's what you want to avoid now.

"It's okay… It's just that I don't like talking about it…" You look up at him a little uncertainly.

"And you don't have to, I promise. I don't want to pressure you into anything." His eyes seem honest and you believe him without hesitation.

"You'd better tell me why Whitebeard adores you so much… I can understand why, but he really does treat you like his own daughter." You grin to yourself. You don't know exactly either.

"I really have no clue…" You yawn a little, it's already quite late.

"We should go to bed, the ship docks tomorrow morning and we have to get the other earbud before we dock, which means we have to get up early." - "Ah yes, that's right, the woman has the other earphone…"

You disappear into the bathroom with your sleeping clothes to change and get ready for bed. When you came back into the room, you saw Ace about to go to bed. In just his undershorts...

With his back leaning against the headboard, he covered himself with a blanket while his whole upper body was exposed. Putting his arms behind his head, he smiled at you mockingly.

"Are you coming to bed my love?" You roll your eyes and get under the covers.

"Stop messing around Ace. There's no one here we have to fool." You lie down with your back to Ace and try to sleep. From the side, you hear Ace's little sigh and you notice him lying down.

"I'm not messing around…" His hands reach out to pull you close to him and he buries his face in your hair.

Your body tenses but you don't feel able to fight back and let Ace embrace you.

"I'm sorry y/n but you always smell so good. Your smell drives me crazy…" His hand wanders under your shirt and he gently strokes your skin.

Even if he had planned not to get too close to you, he can't resist his desire to touch you. These feelings just keep building up as soon as you're within reach. Without much thought, he enjoys the feeling of your skin as he runs his hand over your curves.

"Your skin is so smooth like a sweet peach, it makes me addicted." His lips are right by your ear as he whispers the words in a voice filled with pleasure. His raspy voice gives you chills and without you being able to stop it, your body moves to match his gentle touch.

"Ace please, stop…" The way you're grinding your ass against him, doesn't make you look like you want him to stop.

His skillful hands move carefully from your thighs up to your breasts and he gently begins to knead them. Tender sounds escaped your lips as Ace began to tug slowly on your already hard nipple. He began to feast on your neck and placed countless kisses, causing you to arch your back.

"Are you sure you want me to stop?"

You suck in the air a little shakily. How can a kiss be so intense? But you can't give in. You have to hold your ground.

"Yes… Please… Please stop…" Your voice is almost pleading, but the excitement is hard to ignore.

"What if I don't stop?" His hand moves further down, towards your underwear.

Yeah, then what? You ask yourself but you do nothing... His finger plays with the thin band of your slip and lets the rubber snap against your sensitive skin.

Fingertips disappear lightly under your underwear and brush over your skin without going directly between your already drenched folds.

"Mhhm… y/n you make me so hard…" It was a mistake to share a cabin with him, if this continues Ace will have you in the palm of his hand. His soft moans drive you crazy. How do you get out of this situation?

"Ace, this is not a good idea…" You try to talk some sense into him while you enjoy his touch with your eyes closed.

"What's not a good idea?" - "If we sleep together…" Ace's erection against your back increases your desire, to get on top of him and let him fuck you all night. You can almost feel it, the sensation of his magnificent piece filling your greedy pussy…

You shamelessly move your butt up and down and rub his dick, to which Ace reacts with a satisfied moan. He grabs your thigh a little roughly and pushes you closer to him so that his cock presses between your butt cheeks.

His massive boner feels like it's about to pop out of his underpants and you would love to suck his life out of him. Automatically, the saliva gathers in your mouth…

After you had sex on the beach, you had all kinds of dreams about giving him the blowjob of his life and if there were no feelings involved, you wouldn't hesitate for a second.

You open your eyes and try to control your unsteady breathing. It's not fair what he's doing to you.

You turn to him and push him into the bed to sit on him. You are already familiar with this sight… His gaze seems a little hazy, as if he's drunk on you.

Ace enjoys the view; How your nipples stiffen, how your chest goes up and down because of your rapid breathing and when he looks down at you he recognizes the wet spot on your slip. He breathes out a little heavily at the sight of you… Your eyes look at him a little angrily, but he recognizes the blazing lust behind them.

He bites his lip as he watches you struggle. He's glad you feel the same way and no matter what you say against it, your body speaks the truth.

Your breathing is still a little heavy as you sit on top of him, but Ace's smirk is back on his lips.

"That brings back memories…" - "I know! And for a while I couldn't think of anything else but we shouldn't do this…"

He comes up to you and grabs you by the arms while you're still sitting on his lap.

"Why shouldn't we do this y/n??!" His voice is very serious but you can feel the desperation behind it.

"I can't trust your longing…" He rests his forehead on yours and lets his shoulders drop a little. He feels a ashamed. You've already had a similar conversation and he assured you back then, that he was waiting for you and now?

He has broken his word and touched you as he pleased. He curses himself. He probably got too greedy when you came to bed wearing just a shirt.

His fingers found their way to your skin all by themselves and at a certain point he couldn't stop himself. He knows he's not alone with these feelings, but he doesn't understand why you won't let him near you...

He doesn't want to scare you off, but when you're this close to him, he has the urge to touch you…

He puts his arms around you and buries his face in your nape. Your arms automatically go around him and you lean your head on his.

"I'm sorry y/n." he whispers to you. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and you want to tell him how much you long for him too, but you're not ready to take that step.

"If you want, we could cuddle…" You say the words a little shyly. Will it do you any good? Certainly not, but seeing Ace like this isn't something you want either.

"Really? You're okay with that?" He looks up at you happily and searches your eyes to see if you're serious. You nod at him with a gentle smile and he breaks away from you to lie down with his arms outstretched.

He taps on the empty space next to him and looks at you gleefully. You can't help but laugh and snuggle up to him.

Feeling your skin is the most important thing for Ace, even if it's just your little finger.

A/N: Haahhhh… I don't know guys... somehow I love this chapter but somehow I don't? lol. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it <3

➽ Next chapter (not available yet)

#one piece #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one shot ace #ace one piece #portgas ace x you #ace x you #short fic #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic

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the-sinful-voice-witch · 2 days

Text

TIME TO LOVE STEPHANIE BROWN aka SPOILER

She deserves JUSTICE!

Greek Goddesses! Another character that earned a love post from me, she needs the love, she DESERVES to be loved 💜💜💜 (spoiler alert, this post will be a loooooooooong 😅 )

I found out about her and other characters thanks to the wholesome slice of life comic Batman: family Wayne adventures months ago (I've been a DC Batman fan since I was a kid but I mostly watched shows that didn't include said characters before starting with the comics) and I fell in love with her, I mean she is all purple and her hero name is SPOILER 💘 so she could jump on criminals and say things like: SPOILER ALERT YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET BUSTED 👊😂 HELLO? INSTANT LOVE 💘and then I searched for her, read a lot of comics... and learned SOOO many outrageous things!🤬 Welcome to Hypocrisyland 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️. Here comes the RANT:

So she was an independent girl who made herself the Spoiler persona to "spoil" her wannabe Riddle father's evil deeds and she was a bit morally gray and cynical and wasn't particularly trying to be a hero or a vigilante and then after meeting Robin she started to change her mind inspired by HIM so all her thing started completely separated from Batman and technically it was by associating herself with Tim/Robin that at some point she started to want Batman's approval too and started the whole "fight to prove that I deserve a place here" thing but I think the amount of disrespect this girl faced is ridiculous! Treated like she was hopeless, useless, stupid etc... is she a punching bag? Treated like shit by so many characters for no good reason 😡 and I didn't see any satisfying consequence on them because of it, it was as if the way they treated her was justified because... I don't know, she was compared to Jason, to Dick, to Tim and to Barbara but when is only about her own person she wasn't good enough so they were hysterical about her hurting herself or dying faster than any of them 🙄, so everything is justified because they were worried?

Sorry but NO, I don't care if she isn't as skillful as characters like Cassandra or Damian that were raised to be living killing weapons by assassins or that she isn't intelligent genius detective level with a rich live background that could afford special ttraining like Tim or Batman himself, that she isn't some erudite engineer to build herself taser weapons like Harper Row or a suit flying armor like Luke Fox, that she doesn't have military training like Kate Kane, that she doesn't have hacker skills or a cop dad as Barbara Gordon, or she doesn't have powers like Duke or wasn't trained by ninjas like Selina Kyle or that she started only having good grades at gymnastics instead of having been raised in a circus by acrobats like Dick Grayson... I DON'T CARE, because she had a lot of qualities to start from Zero to Hero that are probably a lot more relatable than the other characters, most people don't have third rate criminal fathers but still she is a lot closer to the normal people than other characters and that makes her great, she is so resourceful even thought that unlike Batman and Tim she comes from poverty and can't get high tech stuff, yet she made herself a costume and helped take down her criminal father in a low budget! How come her resourceness in her situation wasn't impressive to them? How come that she had to endure being dismissed and underestimated constantly over and over until her death? It was exhausting to see! The fact that she started being resentful towards her father and wanted more revenge than justice is enough to ditch her as a hero? (Maybe the Avengers would have welcomed her better in that case 🙄) How much she had to train until the writers stopped making her look unfit and unworthy despite everything?

I don't get why they decided to make everyone around her be an asshole, a jerk, a hypocrite... Specially Tim and Batman (the AUDACITY of these two! Batman "fired" Her from being Spoiler like she being Spoiler had anything to do with him in the first place, entitlement much? Robin mantle I get it but The Spoiler mantle was hers from the beginning he can't fire her from it and then Tim went to comfort her, ironic since he kept telling her to hang the suit all the time, he also said being a Teen Titan was out her league when she was offered a place and told her she can't speak for herself, seriously you fucking jerk? Does he think he is Dick Grayson or what? 😒 the entitlement is spreading! and later when he became Red Robin he DEMANDED her to never be Spoiler again... Oh FUCK YOU 🖕🤬, mister "I discovered your secret so now you have to hire me as Robin" Worse part of that is that he said that after finding out things she was doing on Batman's orders wtf? So is bad always no matter if she disobeys or obeys Batman she can't win) They even made my dear Alfred be cold with at first because "she hurt Tim" but it was actually Batman's fault because he told her his secret 😤 well at least that treatment didn't last, bless Alfred for crying after her death when Dick asked about her and being so happy to see her alive he lose his British.

Why they hated her so much to the point they just doomed her to a horrible death that wasn't even heroic? She was tortured for days after provoking a gang war following one of Batman's plans trying to gain his trust back after he fired her from being his Robin for only 2 months! 🤬 2 miserable months!! because she disobeyed him (sure, sure, no other Robin BEFORE and AFTER her has ever disobeyed Bats orders right? 🙄) and the last person she sees before dying is him who was always comparing her to her male predecessors because he didn't like she was more questioning than them and then lied to her dying face about considering her a real Robin (by the way it felt so wrong that she became Robin out of spite because she saw a girl kissing Tim and she assumed he was cheating... I mean I can't blame her he did CHEAT on his first girlfriend with her, boy I hate this kind of teen drama) . They said it was "unclear" If he was telling the truth, HA! PLEASE. 🙄Of course he is not going to tell the ugly truth to a dying girl (he even "insulted" Her once saying she fights like a girl, wtf? She should have tell on him to Dinah lance) The ones who should have been there were Cassandra and Tim they actually did considered her a Robin, yep even Tim (he even mentioned a few positive things about her time being Robin) after he retook the mantle, they at least loved her! Even if they wronged her at least there was no doubt that they loved her... (Even if Tim's grief for her was short and too dry! 😡, They wanted people to forget about her so hard he was already having new love interests when not even a year passed, he suffered a lot more with his father and Superboy's death than with Stephanie 🤬, at least Cass cried and dreamed about her and thankfully Alfred and Barbara cried for her too even when they weren't that close to her at that time) Because seriously, this was a pitiful sad death, not bothering in making it a sacrifice or falling on combat saving someone noooo, she died after making a huge mistake trying to impress someone who never actually seemed to like her at all! In a gruesome and kinda sexualized way, nobody came to rescue her... Batman only showed up to pick her up after she escaped alone and tell her pretty lies before dying.

What a fucking Joke 🤦‍♀️ how humiliating for a character with a hell lot of potential WASTED! She didn't even get a memorial in the Batcave like Jason! Both their deaths were meant to be permanent but the comics only wanted you to remember Jason but not about Stephanie! Like he never existed! (And later the lame excuse for it🙄, like Batman suspected she wasn't really dead but he didn't tell Tim or Cass about that suspicion? None of them confronted him about the lack of memorial of her? Wouldn't they demand a memorial of a girl that meant a lot to them? He suspected she was alive but he never care to find her?🙄😑 Talk about crappy, tacky writing) it's like the character was thrown like garbage... Indeed that's what they intended to, her death was supposed to be permanent but fortunately for us fans rioted to demand her return very rightfully! 😤 and... Her return was still rushed, lame and lazy 😒 and they forgot to add a LOT of characters reactions seeing her alive 🤦‍♀️, like not even Cass??? I searched and never found a comic with her reaction after finding out she was alive! All out of camera, I hate that, is just so TACKY! Not an epic death and not proper comeback 😬😬

But then we had her run as the third Batgirl! Her solo as Batgirl did a lot of good for her character, with the exception of a few things I disliked like: her interaction with Catwoman that didn't make sense with how they met in the gangs war or that once again Batman has to have all the credit 🙄 because at the end he comes back from a not actual death and it turns out the whole make her a Batgirl was his doing and not Cassandra's doing😑 that would have been better because later they could rub it on his face but they couldn't because it was his idea 😬 but hey at least she got to SLAP him 🤣👏👏 that was epic BRAVO! Ahh that solo lasted too little! She got to put Tim in his place, she became friends with Supergirl and bonded with Damian as a big sister, I swear she should have spent more time with them, she demonstrated her bravery and willpower when she kicked the Scarecrow ass, finally earning Barbara's respect and admiration after she was so bitchy with her, its always so satisfying seeing characters standing up for her after so much mistreatment (i guess she had mixed feelings with the fact that Stephanie is a Batgirl that resembles more to her, Dick also mentioned that and thankfully he stopped being a jerk hypocrite with her too) and did I a mention that she FUCKING SLAPPED BATMAN? Because that is extremely important 😂 and Alfred defended her calling Bruce out in his bullshit test. Then for some stupid out of the blue reason she retired for a year... AFTER ALL SHE WENT THROUGH TO EARN THAT MANTLE? 🤬🤬🤬. Anyway she had to take the mantle back because she was chosen for some tournament where she had to fight Catman and there was Tim again looking down on her 🙄 "why weren't we chosen Cass we are better fighters she is a year out of shape" (Yeah who the fuck decided to make her hang the cape after everything? 🤡) at least Cass defended her saying that she is unpredictable, not like when they were training (Steph was still death) and out of the blue she unnecessarily tells him "you learn fast not like my last student" Really? I recall you enjoying training her 🙄 Sure Cassandra cried and dreamed of her but she used to look down on her a lot, the way she knocked her out in after being fired from being Robin was something we never see her apologize for, it was swept under the rug like never happened, Steph never confronted her about it even though she left her feeling betrayed 🤦‍♀️ and then besties again like nothing 😒. But at least she punched Tim for being an imbecile and then they got together again, so lovely, so happy, she was finally getting respect... BOOM: the new 52 reboot happened. 😃😃

The only thing I liked was that she got triple nunchakus as a personal weapon and that way she doesn't copy Robin's stick and the fact that she went through teen pregnancy and had to give up the baby because I hated that lazy plot that was only meant to make her and Tim have a closer relationship is not canon anymore(they really couldn't think of anything else to deepen their relationship than making her go through that pain so he could support her?😒🤦‍♀️ besides, she had a traumatic sexual assault experience as a child so I find hard to believe she would let herself get pregnant with the scumbag she dated before Tim, I hard to believe she didn't dumped him until he abandoned her in the earthquake) but her origin and relationship with Tim was erased along her time as Robin and as Batgirl(even thought that somehow thankfully now is canon again)and other character named Harper basically took a bit of Steph and Cassandra stories, mixed them and made them her own... pretty lame because Harper's concept was actually cool but she taking their place wasn't cool she also was the one to befriend Cassandra and had a conection with her first instead of Steph and the one who had to fight to be allowed to be a vigilante by Batman instead of her and she was the one that convinced Steph to join the fight instead of Steph wanting to do it by herself but the thing that infuriates me the most in this reboot was that she was accepted into the batfamily without much problem but altmost inmidiatly they made her go against them and againts Batman that this time wasn't being an asshole to her due to the apparent death of Tim Drake, Batman was even being affectionate with her, that hug he gave her to comfort her was precious 🥺 and so satisfying to see but then they had to ruin everything by making her be unreasonable and insufferable to create cheap drama 🤦‍♀️, now that she got the only thing she wanted pre reboot they make her want to walk away?🤡🤡🤡 not to mention I was already pissed of that in her solo as Batgirl they forgot what kind of interaction she had with Catwoman, basically Selina was the last person who was sweet and kind to her before she was killed, it would have been nice to see a proper reaction to her come back but the reboot made things worse! Selina was bitchy and mean to Steph even if she gave her some acknowledgement to her talent but she refused to grant my wish of training her and instead she was trained by the second Catwoman that honesty was disappointed but not that bad because I will like any character that would want to help Steph and Eiko (2° Catwoman) took her in for a while and bothered to teach her something so KUDOS 👍 for her! And Cassandra, Dinah and Barbara too.

And well I'm going to stop the rant here because aside of Tim dumping her and treating her shitty for no reason when they were finally happy so he could be with a random background NPC boy nobody cared about or even remembered so he could prove his bisexuality 😑😑😑, in general things are finally getting good for her: she is finally fully recognized as a Robin and she got another solo with Cassandra and Barbara as Batgirls that wasn't as good as the first one but it was nice and apparently she is now going to have her own team of young superheroes in a new comic.

I wanted to make an statement about things I like about her, the need to make her interact with other characters I think she would get along and my new Ship with her and Jason but all that will have their owns individual posts because I already wrote too much here, if you read it all thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏❤❤ if you felt offended or disagreed with something I said I apologize but remember that this is just the random opinion of a random Tumblr user so... See you in my next posts 😘💋💋

STEPHANIE BROWN DESERVES LOVE AND JUSTICE 💪💜

#dc comics #dcu #dc universe #stephanie brown #the spoiler #batman #batfam #timsteph #jaysteph #dc spoiler #robin #batgirl

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starpirateee · 9 hours

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Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!

Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:

Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?

I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!

"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"

Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.

"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."

"What have you got?"

With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."

This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.

So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.

"They didn't finish?"

"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."

"Is there anything else?"

"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"

"Anything worth noting?"

Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."

"They got this gateway open?"

"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."

"Why?"

"Because he was declared dead, sir."

His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.

"So, another dead end?"

"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.

"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"

If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.

The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.

He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.

"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"

By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.

He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."

"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."

"The same bear from last month?"

"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."

"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"

"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."

"Not good enough?"

"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"

Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"

"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"

Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.

"You know me well..."

"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"

"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."

"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"

"Mhm, I've been busy."

"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"

"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.

The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.

He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.

There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.

He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?

When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.

"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"

Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.

"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."

"Owennnn…"

"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."

He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.

But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.

He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.

"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"

"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"

Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.

Blue… Purple…. Yellow…

The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.

Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…

The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.

So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…

He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.

"Owen?"

That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.

"Owen?"

Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.

He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.

"Curt?"

"Prove you're Owen."

"I'm sorry?"

Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?

"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"

Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.

"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."

The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.

"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."

"What happened to you?"

Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"

Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.

"It's really you…"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."

"What now?"

"I know what I saw…"

"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."

"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.

Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.

Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.

"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."

"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."

"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"

Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"

"…Pink, and green, and white..?"

"And then blue again."

Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"

There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.

Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."

A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"

"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."

"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"

"And a bear, yes."

"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"

"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."

Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"

"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."

"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"

"That's what they were researching."

That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.

Owen nodded. "The colours."

At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.

"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.

"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-

Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"

"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"

"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"

"What if I don't make it?"

"Trust me! Please!"

Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.

He reached out.

Owen reached out.

Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.

Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.

Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.

"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"

Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.

So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.

"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.

"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"

Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.

"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"

"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.

"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"

"Your desperation speaks for itself."

Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"

The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.

Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.

Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.

"You better not be fucking with me."

"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."

The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.

"Very well."

That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.

"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"

Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.

For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.

#spies are forever #saf #starkid #agent curt mega #owen carvour #star mail #void offering #nova's tags →#wiggly would have an absolute field day with owen and curt huh #bc desires run deep. they want each other. they want to be free...#but curt wants to not be haunted by the ghosts of his past #and owen wants to move on. to get a better future where he doesn't have to devote his life to an agency #might be fun to play around with

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toxic3mmy · 12 hours

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haiiii :3 can you perhaps do alex comforting you after you find out you guys are pregnant? >~<

ummm yes!!!!!! is that even a question!!!!

prompt: you find out you and alex are pregnant together

no warnings! fluff!!!!

you found yourself pacing back and forth in your restroom. you were practically biting your nails completely off as you waited. finally your phone timer vibrated. you sat on the toilet lid and took a deep breath.

the pregnancy test was laid in your hand. you slowly flipped it over and saw those two little lines. you didn’t know what to do.

of course you were ecstatic! ever since you got with alexis, you decided that you wanted a family with him. it was just… very unexpected and a lot earlier than you planned. you hadn’t even brought up family making talk with alex.

oh god, alex…

as if on cue, a light knock on the restroom door brought you back down to earth.

“baby? are you okay? you’ve been in there for quite some time…” he jingled the doorknob to let him in

you quickly looked everywhere for a hiding spot for the pregnancy test and the box it came. you shoved it under the sink and pulled yourself together.

you slowly unlock the door and put on a fake smile for your boyfriend.

“hi”

“what’s wrong? were you throwing up again or?” he asked, worry written all over his face

“no i was um pooping… i had a coffee earlier and it did not settle well in my stomach” you laughed, trying to seem normal. you needed time to prepare for the talk with alex. you had absolutely no clue of how he’d react to the news.

“i told you too much caffeine is bad for ya… well, sorry for interrupting you. i thought something was wrong. i’ll leave you to it then” he laughed lightly

and just like a god damn miracle, the box flopped out from under the sink. you should’ve cleaned that cabinet out a long time ago. it was so full that the damn pregnancy test just decided to show itself. your eyes teared up as alex walked forward and pulled out the test from inside the box.

“y/n… is this? is this real? please tell me it’s a prank..”

anger filled within you. he wanted this to be a joke?!

“i knew you would react like this! i don’t need you! i don’t need anyone! i can raise my baby alone!” tears were now streaming down your face as you spoke

alex had a sad look on his face. he stepped forward and grabbed your face in his warm hands. you sniffled and looked at him.

“baby girl… i never said i didnt want the baby. yeah, it’s a little bit early but i would never hesitate to raise a baby with you. i want to be the baby’s father.” he gently dried your face of tears

“you mean that?”

“of course i do y/n. you had me worried.. i thought you would force me to leave you or assume i wanted you to have an abortion. i want you and.. i want the baby” he smiled softly, relief evident on his face

“i guess i do assume the worst in situations like this. this is 100% your fault by the way! you can’t keep your hands off me!” you laugh, teasing your boyfriend a bit

“i guess you’re right on that one. but isn’t it your fault for being so sexy in the first place?” he smirked

“oh shut up!”

“but in all seriousness, how far along are you?” he asked, taking your hand in his

“i think three weeks? i haven’t had my period in three weeks and ive been pretty nauseous daily ever since”

“that makes sense. im really sorry for not being responsible and wearing condoms. but are you sure you want to keep it? i’m not saying i don’t want you to but i just wanna make sure you think about it, i mean a baby is a big decision” he rubbed your hand soothingly

“im really sure alex.. are you sure you still want me? i’m never going to have this body again and.. i’m scared of you losing interest in me after i have the baby” you said, feeling insecure about how much you’re going to change throughout this pregnancy

“is that what you’re worried about, mi vida? that’s got to be one of the silliest things i’ve ever heard. you being pregnant won’t stop me from loving you.. nor will it change my attraction for you, if anything, i find it really attractive..” he said, touching your smooth face gently

“you do?”

“i do. you’ll be carrying our baby. our baby.. the product of our love. you’ll have a growing being inside of you that’ll have both our features. and seeing a baby grow inside of you that’s mine and yours… that’s goddamn attractive if you ask me” he chuckled lightly

“oh alex” you let out a sob, practically jumping into his arms as he held you close to his chest

“don’t worry baby girl, we’re gonna be fine. i’ll do everything in my power to make sure you and our baby are okay and safe, okay?” he said with a kiss to your temple

“yeah… i’ll have the best man in the world helping me raise our baby..” you snuggled into him more

“you make it sound like i’ll be an amazing father. i mean i can see myself being the best father possible but i can’t say i’ll be perfect. i’ll definitely do my very best to be a good father because our baby deserves it” he explained, caressing your hair

“woah… daddy alex? that’s pretty hot, im not gonna lie. i kinda see where you’re coming from that me being pregnant is attractive to you” you pulled back a bit to look at him as you spoke. you saw him visibly freeze

“did you just… did you just call me daddy??” he blinked a few times, processing what you just said

“you’re already an amazing daddy to me, always taking care of me. i’m good practice, no?” you practically purred, loving the blush that crept out onto his cheeks

“th-that’s, th-that’s not what i meant!” he stuttered, very flustered,

“i mean yeah i take care of you and look after you to the best of my abilities… but d-daddy?” he continued

“i know what you meant alexis, i think i just have a lot of hormones in my body right now. i think… i think these baby hormones are making me feel stuff already. i mean, the thought of you being a father is really sexy… im definitely turned on, not gonna lie” you confessed, not even feeling embarrassed

“so daddy alex then, huh?” he smiled, the blush still bright on his face

“mhm…”

“i dont know what got into you but, hey im not complaining” he chuckles and wraps his arms around you

“you’re such a dream..” you sigh

“y tu eres la mujer de mis sueños, eres la cosita mas hermosa y perfecta que me ha pasado” he said lovingly to you

“god, im going to love you forever”

“i love you so much too, forever. this baby will definitely make that love even stronger”

“i agree, mi amor”

“by any chance, have you thought of any baby names? i know you said you thought about us having a family and stuff..” he asked randomly

“i have actually, have you?”

“it’s kinda weird but i have. for a boy, i think carlos or joan and for a girl maybe paz or xochil” he said thoughtfully and you gushed at the fact that he even thought of baby names

“those are actually really pretty. i was thinking for a boy, ezekiel or alexis jr and for a girl something like hyacinth or eliana” you said

“are… are you serious” alex asked, looking down at the floor

“yes, i mean its perfect. i’ve always adored your name and he could be our little junior” you shrugged as if it wasn’t the biggest compliment to alexis

“our little junior… that’s just… wow, i have no words” he smiled

“maybe if it’s a girl, she can have my name or something similar?” you said after a minute

“it’s settled then. if it’s a boy, alexis junior and if it’s a girl, she’ll have your beautiful name” he smiled, leaning in to give you a quick kiss

“then it’s decided” you agreed

“can you promise me something? well, two things” he asked

“sure baby”

“can you please promise not to stress yourself about this pregnancy? i don’t want anything bad happening to you or our baby..”

“yes alex, i promise”

“and also… please don’t stop loving me after the baby is born. i know it’s common for women to have postpartum depression and things like that or even resentment towards the father for getting them pregnant… but i promise to do everything in my power to ensure a good life for you and our baby. i’m going to do everything for us, y/n. just, please don’t stop loving me…” his gaze shifts to the ground once again

“ay mi corazóncito… i could never ever stop loving you. you’re the only person i want to raise a family with… you’re my family” you say genuinely

“oh my god… thank you amor. thank you for everything. i’ll take care of you, okay?”

“okay alex” you nodded and after a while,

“maybe… maybe we should celebrate” you say suggestively

“oh… you mean..” he said innocently

“yeah..”

“yes… we definitely should celebrate” he nodded

“well then get to it daddy, mommy needs tending to”

alex lifts you from the toilet seat cover and takes your hand in his. he leads you to your bedroom and he made love to you. he was absolutely gentle and just overall a gentleman, tending to your needs.

he was going to be an amazing father, that was for sure.

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader

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