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cherry-leclerc · 6 months

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the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!”

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns.

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.”

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt.

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.”

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters.

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets.

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it.

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.”

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily.

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans.

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot.

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods.

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.”

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.”

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.”

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you.

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you.

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

#carlos sainz drabble #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine

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copperbadge · 2 months

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hi, i had a medium to big question. in your post about the adhd self-help book you mentioned people with adhd being conditioned to be nonconfrontational, but i've never once in my entire life connected the two? can you break down the connection for me so that i can once again (this week, even) have my understanding of my own condition blown wide open?

So, you are not the only person to ask about this, but that's on me for being unclear -- I wasn't trying to assert that kids with ADHD are automatically conditioned to be nonconfrontational, I was more trying to be like "Hey not everyone needs lessons in medical self-advocacy but a lot of nonconfrontational people do." And I think there is a higher population of people with neurodivergence who are deeply confrontation-averse, but I don't have like, numbers for that, it's just an assumption based on other knowledge.

It gets complicated; ADHD is a disease based heavily in acting impulsively against your best interests. But yeah I do think people with ADHD are often conditioned to avoid confrontation because of two main factors: rejection-sensitive dysphoria and executive dysfunction.

RSD, which I hate perhaps more than any other symptom or behavior associated with ADHD, automatically kicks our nervous system into high gear in social situations and encodes embarrassing moments in our memory with high-def clarity. Because RSD naturally causes a level of anxiety around socialization, it tends to make us nonconfrontational simply because a) we don't want to be yelled at, b) we don't want to embarrass ourselves by getting emotional about something that may not warrant it, and c) by the time we realize what's happening our body is already on high alert which means we are likely to go into fight-flight-freeze mode.

Me, I freeze, usually, but none of those three options are great for fast thinking during an argument. I used to lose arguments a lot simply because I couldn't think or react as fast as the neurotypical person I was fighting with, so I simply stopped having fights. Notably, I did not have this problem when fighting with my brother, who is also neurodivergent and has many of the same freeze reactions I do.

If people disagree with me, even when I know I'm right I also know I probably won't be able to vocalize it properly, so I back down. Usually it's trivial so it doesn't matter, and I've gotten strategic about how and when I argue about things that do matter; it's also a lot easier to do with strangers or professionals (like doctors) where I don't have to worry about long-term social repercussions. But yeah, our own nervous system tells us "hey maybe don't pick this fight" about every single fight and if we do pick that fight, it treats our opponent as a dangerous predator.

Executive dysfunction's interaction with nonconfrontation is something I have less problem with because while I do have poor executive function, I've spent a lot of time and energy training myself to cover the Important Stuff. I have mild ADHD so I'm capable of this; I'm not trying to say everyone with ADHD is, because lord knows it's exhausting for me and I've been doing it for roughly thirty years. But essentially, I cover where it counts: if someone needs me to do something I do it, I meet deadlines, I pay bills.

So with that disclaimer in place, a very common issue especially for children with undiagnosed ADHD is that they'll be told or asked to do something and simply be unable to begin or complete it, then when they're asked why they didn't do it they can't explain. Even if they try to explain that they simply couldn't, like they were incapable of doing it for reasons they don't understand, that usually doesn't hold water with a lot of parents and teachers.

"I couldn't bring myself to write this essay," is actually something I told myself a few times in college, but it's not something I'd bother trying to tell someone else, because if you think you're neurotypical that sounds very insane. So I'd lie and say I forgot, or I'd take the fail, or I'd simply drop out of the class. Crucially I would not fight with the authority figure who was questioning me about it, because I knew I wouldn't be able to explain myself, and I'd just end up getting in more trouble for longer.

Our culture is structured for neurotypicals, and it's not even structured for all neurotypicals. Behavior that deviates from Approved Neurotypical even when you think you are Approved Neurotypical is highly punishable. So if your options are passivity, even when passivity leads to pain, or confrontation, most people who aren't Approved Neurotypical will opt for passivity once they've had a taste of where confrontation leads. I know I do.

And the thing is, there's nothing actually wrong with that. It's a strategy calculated to minimize pain. Even when I'm firing on all cylinders on a fresh dose of Adderall, I still generally let fights go unless there will be actual real consequences, because it's just not worth it. But knowing we have ADHD and knowing we fall into this pattern, I think it is good to be aware that sometimes letting a fight go is really going to fuck you, and at that point even being bad at it is better than not engaging.

I'm pretty good at calculating those, but it's a lifelong process, knowing which hills to die on when you assume you will automatically die if you ever get above sea level.

#sam has adhd #jellydishes

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nonotnolan · 1 month

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Spring Break

Simon let out a deep sigh as he dropped Aiden's bookbag onto the floor of his dorm room. "Alright, man, you're all set," he said, giving Aiden a friendly nod. "I've taken the last of your mid-term final exams. Unless there's anything else you needed for me to do while I'm in your body, we're clear to swap back."

The first time Aiden had approached him, offering $200 to swap bodies for an exam... Simon had thought it was some sort of prank. The magical amulet was very real, as it turned out. How Aiden had found the item was unclear, but Simon had quickly learned that Aiden had no moral qualms about inhabiting other people's bodies. He was the fifth generation in a long line of successful businessmen, and so the expectation that money could buy anything he wanted had been hard-coded into Aiden's personality. After all, it bought him admission to a prestigious college and membership into one of the most competitive fraternities. Why couldn't money also buy you the expertise that you needed to succeed?

He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "I... actually, I did have a proposition for you," he said, avoiding eye contact. Ever since Aiden had learned that Simon was a gay man, he had been requesting that their quick academic swaps last longer and longer. Aiden was still in the closet, and living Simon's life for an evening allowed him to experience the life he wanted to live while still maintaining his straight-laced reputation.

Simon crossed his arms in annoyance. "I mean, I was planning on spending most of my Spring Break playing video games, but I know you're going to make it worth my time. What were you thinking, the first weekend?"

"The graduating seniors of my fraternity always book an eight day excursion out to the Hamptons. My proposal is that you would attend the trip in my stead."

"Jesus fuck, Aiden!' he yelled, taking a moment to process what he had just heard. "Eight days? Are you serious? This is the first time we'll be swapped for more than 12 hours, and you're just giving me a whole-ass week? What happens if your brothers get suspicious?"

Aiden just rolled his eyes. "Please, we both know I'm massively unpopular in the fraternity. They'll probably find you to be an improvement. Father allocated $20,000 for the week, plus travel and lodging. Anything you don't spend is yours to keep. What do you say?" Seeing his own body make Aiden's characteristic smarmy grin was still a really weird experience.

"I... Jesus, dude..." Simon would never be able to understand Aiden's detachment from the value of money. "I still can't believe you want to be me so badly. I mean... okay, look... that's tempting as hell, but... it was weird enough knowing that you've taken my body out to the bar scene. I don't know if I'm comfortable letting you live my life for over a week. What if you run into someone I know?"

"Oh, I wasn't planning to stay around here," he said, growing more excited as he began to sway Simon. "I've been preparing this trip for a few months by withdrawing Father's allowance and saving it up in case you said yes. If you give me your body for a week, I'll be flying out to San Francisco. Anyway, don't sell yourself short, this body is fantastic."

Simon shook his head in disbelief. "I mean... I want to argue, but I'd have to be an idiot to leave that much money sitting on the table. Alright, you've bought yourself a Spring Break trip." He picked Aiden's bag back up off the ground as he mentally steeled himself for a week in the life of an out-of-touch social scion. "Alright... do I need any extra information to pull this off, or...?"

Aiden hopped to his feet and wrapped him in an awkward bear hug. "Oh, you're the best. I'll forward you the trip reservations, and I'll change the PIN to my debit card so that you can just use that. See you in a week!"

"Yeah... see you in a week..." Simon echoed. He pulled out Aiden's phone, and scrolled down to the one person in the Fraternity who knew about Simon's secret, Aiden's roommate Grant. "You were right," he said, once Grant picked up the phone. "Aiden offered a swap over Spring Break and it was too good to turn down."

"Hah! Called it!" Grant said, with a triumphant laugh. "I told you you he would. I made certain to emphasize how much pussy all of us were going to be chasing out in the Hamptons, just in case he was on the fence about it."

Simon couldn't help but laugh. "Aiden really hasn't figured out that you're gay after all this time, has he?"

"Of course not, that would involve him paying attention to someone other than himself. And it had better stay that way-- dude's annoying enough without him having some sort of puppy dog crush on me. Anyway, I hope you're ready for a week of rampant debauchery in the Hamptons. Aiden's body is sexy as fuck when literally anyone else is inside of it. And we both know how sexy my body is."

The incoming text message was the only reason Simon realized that Grant had already hung up, but he was not about to complain about receiving a pic like that.

#male body swap #gay body swap #gay male story #casual body swap #preppy #spoiled

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cinewhore · 9 months

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The Wrath of a Mother

Pairing: Thomas "Tommy" Shelby x fem!reader word count: 3k warnings: violence, heavy angst, kidnappings, blood, gore, guns, fighting. summary: Thomas Shelby discovers his wife's past. A/N: more peaky blinders brain rot for you all. not much else to say. no beta cause I say so! Enjoy. Credits to the gif artist.

The chaotic melody of jazz was cut off by the sound of screams.

Tommy didn’t like jazz which is why you waited for him to leave before putting the record on. It had been a tiresome day, dealing with the children, being the lady of the house. You sent the majority of the staff away, with the exception of a few maids to help with your children. The girls were young and foolish, always giggling behind their hands.

You pay the shouts no mind, until they grow louder, the high pitched squeals of the girls being intertwined with the yelling of men.

Suddenly, a shot rings out. You instantly cut the record, dashing into the children’s room. Oliver wakes up with ease while Alice fusses. You hated disrupting them but had no choice, telling them they were going to have a special sleepover in the guest room.

“Now, mommy is going to go and grab some snacks. I’m going to lock the door, to keep the pesky monsters away! Mommy or daddy will come back to get you, ok?”

Your oldest nods, the best big brother to his sister. You press a quick kiss to both their heads, not daring to look back at them before shutting the door.

The world seemed to slow down after that. You weren’t aware of how much time had passed, couldn’t ignore the ringing in your ears, the exhilaration of shock and adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream.

It was enough to blind a man.

Someone was hollering your name but you couldn’t make out whose voice it belonged to.

Hands abruptly clasp your shoulders and you shriek, twisting your body in a way to fend off whoever dared to attack you next. You try to ram the knife into the arm of your assailant but another pair of hands snatch your weapon away, leaving you defenseless.

Tommy crawls on his knees in front of you, grasping the side of your face tightly. You squirm and squirm but stop as he shakes you.

“It’s alright! It’s me! It’s just me!” He could tell that you were trying to comprehend what was happening and that your body was moving on its own accord, still engaged in fight or flight mode.

“Arthur, let her go.”

The oldest brother shoots Tommy a look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Arthur drops his hold on you and you sag forward, arms wobbling against the wooden floors, hands drenched with blood.

“It’s alright, love. You’re ok, it's finished now.”

It was over. You had won, however, the thin veil between this life and the old one had been hastily torn down.

“Where are the children, hm?”

You shake your head, his words unclear to you.

“Our children, where are they?! Alice and Oliver, where are they?”

You raise a weakened arm and point towards the end of the corridor. “Guest room closet…I locked it-”

“Michael, go check!” Thomas shouts. His cousin takes off without another word.

It was all too much. The noise, the lights, the commotion. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you combat Tommy and the grip he held on you, dead set on getting into a place where you could shut it all out.

You stumble down the hallway and the flight of stairs, only tripping a few times before making it out the front door. You make it just past the hedges and collapse, stomach churning while you vomit.

Arthur was close by, tentative of his approach. He didn’t want to scare you off further. He advances steadily, arms outstretched to show that he meant no harm.

“It's ok, love. It’s just, Arthur. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You nod, wiping at your mouth. “There were so many-"

“Yeah. Yeah, there were. You fought them all.”

“I didn’t- didn’t mean to kill anyone-”

You let Arthur close enough so that he could hold your hands, uncaring of the blood smeared across yours.

“Listen to me, eh? You’re gonna have the shakes. Your hands are gonna feel like they’re made of fucking lead. S’all normal. I just need you to breathe cause it looks like you’re gonna faint.”

You mimic Arthur as he breathes in and out, slowing down your beating heart. You surge forward and hug your brother in law, catching him by surprise. He panics for a moment before hugging you back, rocking the two of you.

“You did good, sister. You did good.”

You didn’t speak about it for two weeks.

You knew that he wanted an explanation, you felt it every time the two of you were in the same room. There was a lingering stare he would give you that he gave to each of his enemies. It was menacing, calculating and ominous. You knew the longer it took for you to offer up clarification for your actions, the more he began to suspect that you were placed in his house, in his bed, based off of an ulterior motive. If that were the case, you would’ve killed him by now but Tommy was no fool nor was he new to this type of life. He knew when people played with their food before eating and he refused to be swallowed by you.

His lovely, little wife.

It was a pleasant Sunday morning. You figured after breakfast you’d take the children into the gardens, perhaps have them splash around in the pond to tire them out before lunch. Tommy’s side of the bed was empty and cold by the time you woke up, which didn’t surprise you.

The lack of boisterous noise coming from the children is what tipped you off.

You remain calm as your lady’s maid helps you dress for the day, swapping out your gowns for a nice riding outfit.

“Lily, where are the children?” you query the young girl.

“Mr. Shelby arranged for them to spend the day with Ada, madam. She collected them this morning.”

You rock your jaw, vexation settling into your features. He secluded you, tapered off the one distraction you wouldn’t be able to use against him.

“Thank you, Lily. Where is Mr. Shelby?”

“He’s awaiting you in the dining hall for breakfast.”

Nodding, you finish your last little bit of preparations before seeking out your husband.

Thomas was a sight to behold. He sat in the chair facing away from the window, the morning glow casting a hazy aura around him. He held the newspaper in front of him with rigidness, eyes covered with his spectacles, long eyelashes gracing his cheeks whenever he looked down or blinked.

You don’t bother clearing your throat, knowing your husband was programmed with an innate capability of being able to detect when he was no longer alone. He huffs out an exhale, flipping the pages of the paper.

Frances pulls your seat out for you and you thank her, watching as she pours you a cup of coffee.

“Shall I crack your egg for you?”

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I actually find that I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.”

“Shall I ask the cook to prepare something different for you? Perhaps you’d like some fresh fruit? We just received some apples.” Frances tries again.

You give a sympathetic smile to the older woman, always grateful for her thoughtfulness and warmth. “I’ll just have some water.”

Frances pours you a hefty glass, bowing slightly as she exits the room.

You take a quaint sip from the glass as Tommy folds the paper, tucking it underneath his plate.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? The toast was quite delicious.”

“You sent the children away without telling me.” You place the glass carefully on the table, using the condensation to wet your neck.

“I am their father, I can make decisions about where they go.” Tommy hums, rolling his neck to finally get a look at you. Even on low hours of sleep and no makeup, you were a natural beauty. You fixed your hair up in a way that he especially liked, the pins keeping it held firmly in an ornate fashion.

“You don’t send my children anywhere without me knowing about it.” You bite back coolly.

“Well,” He claps his hands together. “I figured we could use a day to ourselves. Frances has made us a nice picnic near the edge of the garden, our horses have been saddled and for the ultimate surprise, we’ll be shooting pheasants for dinner.”

You force out a grin, swallowing down the lump that was squirming its way up your throat. “What a perfect day.”

The picnic was gorgeous and you hated the way you tore into your food after skipping breakfast. Tommy made little conversation and you obliged him for the time being, willing yourself not to disassociate.

He was setting you up. While you remained neutral about the usage of guns and their place in the house, you always refused to shoot one if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Tommy had given you one for protection and you kept it locked in a box, stored in the back of your wardrobe. The last thing you wanted was for the kids to find it.

Maurice, a stablehand, was already stationed near the edge of the forestline, a trap full of pheasants at his disposal. Tommy hands you a shotgun and the both of you prepare them for the task. He’s the first one to shoot and achieves a few hits, your duo of foxhounds sprinting to capture them.

You check over your gun once more, ensuring that it wouldn’t backfire and injure your shoulder.

“I’ll take four.” You tell Maruice and he gawks at you before straightening his posture.

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

Raising a single eyebrow was enough to get the young man to hush, nodding his head that he understood. “Be quick when handing me the other gun.”

“On your signal.”

You raise your weapon upwards, relaxing in your stance and emitting a low release of breath.

“Pull.”

The flapping of wings alerts your senses. Watching them disperse into the sky, you aim your gun a few paces ahead, striking two birds instantly. Rapidly swapping out guns, you anchor yourself a bit before plucking off the remaining two. The dogs are happy as they trot to gather the rest of the birds.

Maurice seeks to hide his amusement but fails. “Great fucking shot, Mrs. Shelby!”

“Thank you, Maurice. Hang two of them for dinner, please.”

You don’t say another word as you set off for the stream nearby, Tommy close behind.

You strip off your shoes and socks, placing your slightly blistered feet into the running waters. Tommy takes a seat beside you, lighting a cigarette.

“Are we going to talk or keep playing the silent game?”

“You’re the one who makes speeches.”

Tommy chuckles. “You’re a great shot.”

“I know.”

“I just want to understand how a woman such as yourself swore of guns but managed to take on six armed men with the precision and execution of someone who enlisted.”

You snap your head over. “What, so you think I’m a spy now, huh? Is that it? A Soviet spy sent to crush Thomas Shelby and his empire from within? Give me a fucking break.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you-”

“But you are! That’s what this is, isn’t it? A fight that has gone on for far too long.”

Tommy goes silent, like he always does. At this point the both of you realize that you were no longer referring to the conversation at hand but what was left unsaid in between the lines. You let yourself wallow in the anger for just a few more moments before exhaling deeply.

Absent-mindedly, you pick at the tiny blades of grass, ripping and ripping until they scatter out of your hands like confetti.

“I was framed,” you start. Tommy perks up at the sound, lighting a cigarette. He attempts to pass it to you but you refuse it. “I was young, barely a teen. An orphan.”

“The New Prospects Orphanage in the Netherlands.” Tommy comments and you nod your head.

“On Wednesdays, we would take walks around the city so we could be shown what proper ladies were like. There was a girl, Claire, who would sometimes sneak in our group and walk with us. We were friends. The older girls were vile and teased her. Pushed her down a flight of stairs. She cracked her skull.”

You stop at the mention of your old friend, rushed memories of that fateful day speeding through your mind at the speed of light. You remember the blood slowly leaking out from behind her head, staining the white hair bow she wore.

“I reached out to try and grab her, if anything we would’ve fallen together but she slipped right through my grasp. I was blamed and whilst they were discussing what to do with the police, I took off.”

You look at Tommy, who was already eyeing you with precision. “I apparently made some very bad fucking enemies that day.”

He began putting pieces together mentally, filling in the gaps of his research. From what he had gathered, you were at an orphanage until you were twelve, moved to the States until you were eighteen before making your way back to London. You remained lowkey, worked jobs mostly as a secretary and lived a bland existence until he met you a few years after being back from France.

You steal his cigarette, sucking on the stick like it was the last one on earth.

“Claire came from a notable family within the Netherlands. Her brother wouldn’t stop until he saw my head on a stick. They sent people after me.”

Tommy sticks his tongue out to wet his lips briefly. “Eli Delbeke.”

“Eli Delbeke.” you repeat.

He was one of the six bodies Tommy discovered after the carnage. He knew who you were, the woman you tried to hide behind. He hunted you until he cornered you in your own house, threatened to feed your children to his dogs. Eli had sent nearly every thug, gangsta, and man for hire after you. You managed to defeat them all.

You didn't like how easy it was for you to snap someones neck, hated the way blood circled the drain during a shower.

“He knew you were going to be alone.” Tommy concludes. “He knew about the rally.”

“As far as I’m concerned, there shouldn’t be any more of them alive. I survived the onslaught. And you want to know what lesson he could’ve learned?”

You put out the cigarette beside you, coughing. “Grief isn’t good for business.”

It happened so fast that you didn’t have time to blink. The foundation was in full swing at its grand opening, members of high society swarming all around you. You wouldn’t lie and say you were thrilled to be there but this was Tommy’s moment and as his wife, you had to play your part.

Photographs were taken and you smiled politely, Alice in your arms and Oliver hiding behind your leg. The boy was utterly shy and you hated placing him in situations like this. Balancing Alice on your hip, you shoot an apologetic look at Tommy and the others, awaiting a photo op.

You brush back Oliver’s hair, trying to coax him forward. “Come on, Oli. It’s ok! We’ll smile very quickly for a photo and then we can go wait outside for daddy.”

Tommy grows impatient and grabs Oliver, taking him by surprise. He begins to sob and thrashes around in Tommy’s hold.

“Shelby family, look this way!” The photographer instructs and you all oblige. The flash goes off and the crowd around begins to disperse. A woman in a maid outfit reaches for Oliver and Tommy hands him off willingly, eager to get away from the clamoring of chatty women. You were busy adjusting Alice’s dress, setting her back down on the ground.

You look around for Oliver, noticing you couldn’t hear his cries anymore.

“Oliver?” you call out to no avail. “Oli?”

Clutching Alice’s hand, you ask around the room if anyone has seen a little boy. All people shake their heads, your panic grows more by the minute.

Polly senses your agitation. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“It’s Oliver. We just took a photo, I sat Alice down but when I looked up, he was gone.”

Polly gives you a look you know too well and your face drops. “Oh, Poll-”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Polly alerts other members of the family, sending them in different directions. She then escorts you out into a more secluded area of the building.

Ada and John join you, all with forlorn expressions.

“Nobody has seen ‘em.” John reports, Ada backing his claim. She places a protective hand on your back, guiding you to sit on a bench.

“Let me hold her.” she says calmly and you reluctantly let go of Alice.

Arthur and Tommy march up to the family, fists balled and faces set like stones.

“He was seen being taken in a car by some woman.” Arthur shares, eyes downcast. You stand up abruptly, stepping a few paces away from everyone else. Breathing becomes a difficult task and you clutch at your chest.

The familiar sensation of rage and anguish sneaks upon you, digging its sharp claws deep into the fiber of your being.

Tommy folds himself over you in an endeavor to console you. “This is all my fault. I will fix it. Don’t you fucking worry, I will fix this. Those fucking Italian bastards will not get away with this. It’s going to be ok, I promise.”

You cock your head to look at your husband, the only thing visible from beneath your hat was your red brimmed eyes. A lone tear escapes and you refuse to let any others do the same.

It was if you were possessed by the devil himself.

You straighten yourself up, sniffling quietly. “Ada, give me my child.”

Ada does as she is told and if you were being more observant, you might say that Ada feared you in that moment.

You were going to see to it that whoever took your child would die by your hands.

They weren’t going to fear you as Tommy’s wife nor as a Shelby but as a fucking mother.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #Thomas shelby x fem!reader #Thomas Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x fem!reader #fic: The Wrath of a Mother

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

hide away

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'came back wrong' rated: m wc: 810 cw: mentions of blood, canon-typical violence tags: vampire eddie munson (kinda, it's a little unclear if that's exactly what he is), emotional reunion, soul bond type thing

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The bumps against his window became more frequent as the days passed and Steve was starting to think he was going crazy.

After the second night, he'd gone on his roof to check if anything could possibly be brushing against his window.

Nothing.

The third night, he sat up in his bed and watched, despite all of the fear in his mind telling him to get under the covers and at least pretend to be asleep.

But the little that he did sleep, he had nightmare after nightmare of Eddie bleeding out in Dustin's arms, in his arms.

He watched Eddie get eaten alive by demobats over and over again, unable to interfere, unable to even yell for him to let him know he wasn't alone.

The dark circles under his eyes were just a new accessory, and he carried it with the same exhaustion they all had, even a month after everything happened.

As he folded himself into his bed, curling his comforter around him for safety, not warmth, he turned to the window.

There's someone out there.

The thought crossed his mind before his eyes processed the shadow of a person standing just outside the window.

He refused to get up, but he could tell the person outside didn't need him to.

His window opened.

His heart raced.

One breath.

Two.

"Steve."

Eddie.

"How?" Steve squeaked out, his voice so high pitched he wasn't even sure Eddie heard him.

"I think...the bats?" his voice sounded deeper, not as light.

"But...we checked your pulse. You weren't breathing." Steve sat up, pushing the blanket off of him. "You were dead. You were dead."

The sob was loud enough to cause his whole body to shiver.

"I know. I know. I was."

"So, what? You're alive again? Are you a ghost? A demon? A vampire?"

Eddie shrugged as he fell to his knees by Steve's bed, probably afraid to get his sheets dirty with the grime of the Upside Down covering his clothes, dried blood staining his skin.

"Vampire is the closest I can get to. I um," Eddie gulped. "I haven't tried to drink blood yet, though."

"Do you need to?" Steve asked, worried that Eddie would die again because he didn't have what he needed.

"I think I just have to drink your blood."

The room closed in around Steve as his pulse quickened.

"I know it sounds crazy. I'm sorry for even suggesting it. I just...it's something I just know. I can't explain it."

"How?"

"It's like my chest has a spot carved out just for you and the only way to make you fit is to have a piece of you and your blood is the piece. I don't know what's wrong with me," Eddie sounded terrified.

"Hey," Steve reached down, touched Eddie's mess of curly hair, felt a shock of something. "Eds, you're here. We can figure it out. You wanna try?"

"Try what?"

"Drinking my blood."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I might not stop."

"You will."

Steve knew it. He didn't know how he knew it, he just did.

And Eddie must have known it deep down, too, because the next thing Steve knew, Eddie's hand was in his hair, gently tugging his head back to expose his throat.

His breath was hot, but his lips were cold.

Eddie let out a small laugh.

"Maybe you were born with these moles as a user manual," Eddie joked.

Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled. Eddie making a joke like that was a good sign, the best sign.

The moment Eddie's teeth sunk into his neck, Steve relaxed.

The feeling Eddie had described earlier, the empty place made just for him, he felt it being filled in both of them.

He should have panicked, should have immediately pulled away, but Eddie's hands held him close, held him steady.

Eddie's mouth felt like it belonged on him.

Eddie felt like his.

When he finally pulled away, they smiled at each other.

"Taste a little salty. Might wanna consider some fruit in your diet, Stevie," Eddie teased.

"I'll consider it," Steve rolled his eyes.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Eddie stayed with Steve for three days before they finally came up with a plan for telling everyone.

He had to stay hidden, not just because they weren't sure what he was, but because if he was seen by anyone, he could be arrested.

They didn't know much, but they knew they couldn't let that happen.

So he fed from Steve every night.

Not much, just enough to take away the hollow feeling that started to present itself after nearly 24 hours without.

They always kissed after, always spent the night curled up in Steve's bed together, tracing patterns in each other's naked skin.

And when everyone found out, it was only because they walked in on Steve and Eddie making out in the kitchen.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #came back wrong #vampire eddie munson #writing challenge

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cozage · 11 months

Text

The Daughter's Return: Chapter Two

The Strategist of the Second Division

I had a few requests for this, so voila. Should there be a part three? Still unclear, but let me know what you think :)

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 5.5k CW: drunk reader

Part 1 | Part 3 | Table of Contents | Read on A03

“So, Ace?”

Marco’s voice broke through to you, and you realized you had been staring at the flame user again.

“Annoying,” you said, scowling.

Ace was up on a table, doing some kind of dinner show. You refused to admit that he had captured your attention. He wasn’t that big of a deal. He was just showing off.

Marco’s eyes flitted between the second division commander and you, and he smirked to himself.

“Then look away,” Marco said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, doing your best to let your eyes land anywhere else in the room. But they always kept coming back to the man on the table. They seemed to be doing that more recently. The two of you hadn’t talked since your first night back, which was fine with you most of the time. You were never the one to make the first move.

“There’s a mission briefing for the second division tomorrow,” Marco said. “Sounds like you guys will be going somewhere soon.”

“And?” you asked, irritated by the reminder that you weren’t invited.

“You’ll get him all to yourself during that,” Marco said, a cheeky grin appearing on his face. “You won’t have to share him with that posse over there.”

“I told you, Marco-”

“And you two can gaze at all the stars you want,” he continued, ignoring you.

You stared daggers at him, but he just smirked. You couldn’t intimidate Marco the way you could with everyone else on the crew.

“Fire boy over there told me all about it the other night,” Marco said, rising up from the table. Your eyes landed on Ace again as Marco bent down to whisper in your ear. “He’s quite smitten with you, you know.”

“I don’t care!” you yelled, louder than intentional. Eyes turned to look your way, and even Ace stopped what he was doing to glance over at you.

Marco had succeeded in what he wanted to be done, and as he walked away with a puffed out chest, you knew that you had fallen into his trap. You grabbed your dinner tray and booked it out of the mess hall, trying to hide your fluster with a look of irritation.

As you stormed down the hallway, you heard quickened footsteps approaching behind you.

“Are you happy, Marco?” you demanded, turning around.

You were instead met with the freckled face of Portgas D. Ace, his cheeks pinked and his breathing slightly high from running after you. His eyes were wide from shock and concern.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, turning away to hide your own blush. “Thought you were someone else.”

“Wait!” Ace yelped. “I, uh-actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You turned back to him, your brows furrowing.

“What do you want?” Your voice came out harsher than you meant to, and you could see Ace’s eyes sadden for a second.

“I was hoping-” Ace stopped, looking around uncomfortably. “Well, there’s a briefing tomorrow for our upcoming mission.”

You scoffed, turning away. “Thanks for reminding me.”

You were about to storm off when he spoke.

“I was hoping you’d join me.”

You turned back to him, muddled with confusion. You could see that Ace was trying to read your expression, but you kept your face as neutral as possible.

“That’s not really protocol,” you said simply.

“I’d like to have someone in the room who knows their stuff,” he said. “I hear you're a strategist.”

Damn that meddling Marco. He was always up to something.

“Is this some kind of peace offering you’re handing to me?” you asked, suspicious of his motives.

Ace chuckled at that, but didn’t answer. “So, will you join me?”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if this was a pity offer or not.

“I’m surprised you want a hot-head being your strategist,” you answered instead.

Ace rolled his eyes, a smile dancing on his lips. “You are not a hot head,” he said.

You could feel your skin getting warm. “And how would you know what I am? You don’t even know me. We met a few days ago!”

“And every time you’ve gotten mad since then, you’ve gotten mad on behalf of someone else. Yesterday, when a couple of guys took the News Coo seagull hostage, and you went berserk on them. You blew up in the kitchen because someone intentionally messed with a recipe as a prank. When a few people were messing around with the sails and they got torn, and you got so mad you burned a piece of rope yelling at them.”

Ace paused to smirk at you. “You have righteous anger, which is why you’re a good strategist.”

You’re not sure when your mouth fell open, but you stood in front of him, mouth agape. You were stunned into silence by both his attention to detail and just how strange it all was. He knew so much about you in such a short amount of time.

“Have you been watching me, Portgas D. Ace?” you asked, still staring at him in bewilderment.

His cheeks turned red and his eyes widened. His fingers ran through his hair, a movement he did when he was nervous or realized he was about to be in trouble.

“Not in a creepy way,” he groaned, his voice full of embarrassment. “I just wanted to see if I could trust you.”

He had been watching you. Of course, you had been doing the same thing. Though you couldn’t admit that. There had been a few times over the past few days where your eyes had met his, but it always ended with you both looking away nervously. You assumed that he had just sensed your eyes on you. But no, he had been looking at you too.

“Right…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling the awkwardness in the air.

“Please. I want you there tomorrow,” Ace begged.

“Fine.” You found your heart quickening his words, and you turned away before your face could give it away. “I’ll be there.”

You took off down the hallway, leaving him standing there with a half-dazed smile watching you go.

You had trouble sleeping that night. You blamed it on the roughness of the sea, or the noise that came with staying in a bunkhouse, but your mind wouldn’t quiet. Portgas D. Ace was watching you.

When you saw the first hint of light start to appear outside, you finally got up. You had barely slept, but at least now you had a reason to be out of bed. You grabbed some of the strongest coffee they had from the dining hall and walked into the clinic, hoping to find Marco.

He was in his office, checking over some kind of medical chart, and you sat down on a stool, quietly sipping at your coffee until he was done.

“I swear, some things never change,” he mumbled, pulling his glasses off.

You hummed in agreement. You had always found your way to the clinic in the past when you needed a quiet moment, the two of you enjoying each other’s company compared to the loud scene of the ship.

He put his papers down and faced you. “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

You looked at him, confused by his words. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled softly. “It’s Ace, isn’t it?”

You scowled. “I didn’t say anything about him,” you hissed. Why did everything always come back to that guy?

But you couldn’t help thinking about him, now that Marco had brought him up. You had noticed a few things about Portgas D. Ace over the past few days. People tended to gravitate towards him. He always managed to be the life of the party, no matter what the task was. He was overly affectionate, always slapping people on the back and thanking them when they helped him out. Sometimes he laughed so hard he’d send sparks flying out from his body unintentionally. He would randomly fall asleep; and always seemed unaware of his time spent unconscious when he woke up.

You had to admit, you understood why your father had made him a division commander. Though you’d never admit it, Ace had a sort of ability to rally people together and find a cause to fight for. It was admirable, even though a part of you still loathed him for taking your promised position.

He was strange, you had to admit. But you were intrigued.

“You’re drifting again,” Marco said. “Where’s your mind at?”

“Nowhere!” you claimed, though you both knew it wasn’t true.

“You didn’t sleep last night, I’m guessing,” Marco commented, looking at your coffee cup. “You better perk up, or it’s going to be obvious that something is affecting you.”

“Did you tell Ace that I’m a strategist?” you finally asked, caving in to your desire to know.

Marco raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile.

“It’s not like that,” you said. “I just don’t want some pity offer because he feels bad about taking my title.”

“Right,” Marco said, obviously not believing you. “I didn’t tell him anything about you, though…” he paused, a devilish look in his eyes. “He has certainly tried to get me to.”

You perked up at that. “What do you mean?”

Marco laughed at your reaction, and you blushed, angry for being discovered by such a cheap trick. Marco was always teasing you with such obvious traps, and you always fell for them. You weren’t even sure how you felt about Ace, but you couldn’t deny that he caught your interest.

“Forget it,” you grumbled. You picked up your coffee and headed for the door, tired of the conversation.

“He asks about you,” Marco said. “Almost every day.”

You could feel his eyes on your back, which was the only thing that kept you from whipping your head back around and demanding more information. It was another trap, you were sure of it.

“Don’t care!” you called back as you left the room. You kept walking out the door and down the hallway. You had a meeting to prepare for anyway. You needed to focus and work on proving your worth amongst your crew.

You sat quietly on the deck, trying not to let your mind wander too much. You knew you had to prepare for the meeting shortly, but you couldn’t bring your mind to focus on that. So you stared out at the ocean, sipping on another cup of coffee.

“Need a refill?” a familiar voice called, and you jumped. You turned and found eyes as dark as the depths of the sea, and you found yourself at a loss for words.

Ace stared at you quizzically, waiting for an answer.

“No thanks,” you muttered, finally breaking your eye contact with him and looking back out at the sea.

“Care if I sit?” Ace asked, already sitting on the stool.

“Kind of,” you grumbled.

Ace shot you a surprised look that was mixed with hurt.

“Sorry.” He started to get up. “I can go.”

“No!” you said, just a little too quickly. “I’m, uh, just not in the mood for conversation.”

Ace chuckled at that, and got comfortable on the stool again. “Agreed. It’s too early for conversation.”

You smiled and nodded, staring out at the sea. You were unable to relax now, painfully aware of him being so close to you.

“I know I said I wasn’t up for chatting,” you said, and you felt Ace’s gaze move to you. “But why did you ask me to be your strategist?”

Ace opened his mouth in surprise, but no words came out at first. You wanted to look over at him, but you were afraid that you would get lost in those bottomless eyes or endless freckles. You couldn’t afford to be distracted today.

“They say you’re the best,” he finally admitted.

“Who says that?” you pressed.

“Everyone,” Ace said, looking back to the sea. “Marco and everyone in the first division fawns over you, but Jizou respects you so much-I’ve never seen him respect another crewmember as much as you. Haruta talks about you with so much admiration, I think he actually has a crush on…nevermind.” Ace tensed for a moment, before rushing on. “Izou adores you, Ramba smiles when your name is brought up, and every time your name comes around, the Clandine Incident is too. Apparently you did some admirable stuff there.”

You smirked. The Clandine Incident had been about 60% luck, but people always gave you the credit for great strategy as well. And years later, you never corrected them. It stopped being worth the hassle long ago.

“I want you as my strategist because your reputation precedes you,” he said. “Not because-”

“Ace! You’re late!” Your father’s voice boomed across the ship, and you tensed. You’d both be scolded for your tardiness.

“That’s our cue,” Ace grinned, and got up, unbothered by the public reprimand from your father.

You followed him, curious of what he was going to say if you hadn’t been interrupted.

When you entered behind Ace, your father shot you a curious look, but didn’t say anything as you took the strategist seat next to your division commander.

“Second division finally got a strategist, huh?” Thatch quipped to the table. You could tell he wanted to jest more, but your father cleared his throat, and you all turned your attention to him for the briefing.

You had sat in on briefings before. Ever since you were a kid. First you sat at the table with Marco and colored quietly, and that evolved into taking notes and making plans with the other division commanders and strategists. It had been a place you felt comfortable speaking up and giving ideas.

But now it felt different, more tense than you remembered. Perhaps it was your return to the table that put everyone on edge, and you stayed quiet during most of the meeting. Ace occasionally dozed off, and you kicked him to keep him awake. It wasn’t until the end of the meeting that you finally spoke.

Kingdew’s strategist spoke up during the deliberation point. “I think if we have two divisions take the left flank and one take the right, we should be fine.”

You were looking at the map, frowning. You didn’t know the strategist; he must’ve joined the crew after you left. His strategy would probably work, but it would take a strong single division to pull off the right flank, and it was risky.

“What do you think?” Ace’s voice rang out, calling your attention back to the room. You looked to see who he was talking to, and you realized he was looking at you.

“It’s not a bad plan,” you agreed. “We could probably make it work if we had one of the stronger divisions flanking from the right.”

Ace looked at you expectedly. “But?”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt nervous. Everyone in the room was staring at you, waiting for your input. You used to have pride in that, but now it just made you feel small.

“How updated is this map?” you asked, looking at Namur.

“My guys got the layout two days ago,” he replied.

You hummed, staring back down at the map. It was recent, but things with the Navy could always change. Still, your confidence rating in accuracy was high.

“And you can only spare three divisions?” you asked your dad, who nodded in response.

“I think our best bet is to have one division flank each side. Have the strongest division hang back, communicate with the front two, and send assistance where needed. It saves our strongest fighters for the end of the fight, lowers enemy morale, and should be able to get the job done with little to no casualties.”

“Some things never change,” someone muttered, but you couldn’t tell who. A few people chuckled around the table.

You turned back to Ace, who was giving you a stupid grin, and you ignored the heat that was rushing to your face. “That’s what I propose, at least.”

“Then let's do it,” Ace said, shrugging. “Thatch, Kingdew, if you agree?”

They both nodded.

“We can get you a list of individuals in our division, but the Second division should be the one to hang back,” Thatch said.

“I think we could take a few members from the second division and place them under your temporary command for the mission as well, if that’s alright with everyone,” you considered. “Just to make sure the playing field is even.”

“Whatever you decide, we’ll go with,” Kingdew said, and Thatch nodded in agreement.

You could feel Ace grinning while you stared at the map again, making sure you hadn’t missed any information or any holes in your plan.

“Damn, pops,” one of the commanders grumbled. “Why’d you have to put Y/N in the Second Division? We could’ve used her.”

“Too bad!” Ace said, sticking out his tongue to his comrades. “She’s mine!”

Ace wrapped his arms around you to solidify the joke, and you felt yourself tense being so close to him. He was warm, the bare skin of his chest against your body. He smelled like campfire and apples, and you bit your inner lip to keep your focus.

“Off!” you hissed. You quickly pushed him away, your face flushing with pink. You pretended to continue looking at the map even though you were too dizzy to see straight.

Ace laughed nervously, and you could feel your father’s eyes on the both of you. He wasn’t the only one; you could sense Marco’s amused gaze, Thatch’s curious look, and Haruta’s envious stare at least. But you refused to look up.

“I’d like to get a list of all the division members so we can allocate division two properly,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

“I’ll get those to you this afternoon,” your father said, and you finally looked up at him.

You gave him a tense smile and nodded. “Thank you.”

Whitebeard nodded at you, and then turned his attention to the rest of the table. “Strategists, you’re dismissed,” he said. “I need to speak with the commanders now.”

You took your leave with the rest, and went back to your bunkhouse. Now that the adrenaline from the meeting was over, the exhaustion was catching up with you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You pulled off your nice outfit and threw on a comfortable crop top and shorts, and climbed into bed. As soon your head hit the pillow, you were out.

You awoke to the presence of someone beside your bed, and your eyes opened to find your father’s pirate flag, displayed on an open back.

“Ace?” you mumbled, grogginess thick in your voice. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and saw the flame user frozen where he stood.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he smiled nervously. “Just dropping off the names of everyone in division two, four, and eleven.”

You sat up, reaching for the papers now on your nightstand. Ace looked tense and extremely nervous, but you didn’t pay him any mind. You did a quick shuffle through the papers, scanning all of the names. You recognized most of them, and it seemed like both four and eleven were pretty evenly matched in skill.

“Do you need a quiet place to work?” Ace asked you.

“I’ve got one,” you said, slipping on your shoes and heading for the door, still scanning through the names.

“There’s a party tonight!” Ace called after you, but you hardly heard him, already absorbed in your work to create a perfect strategy.

Your body went on autopilot, directing you to the clinic. There were a lot of names you didn’t know, and you would need Marco’s opinion for them to make sure the divisions were as evenly matched as possible.

“Help,” you said, entering the clinic, and you saw Marco jump up to see you.

“Tch,” he chided. “You shouldn’t call for help when you’re entering a clinic unless you need it. You worried me.”

You shot him an annoyed look. “I do need help.”

“This is a medical clinic,” Marco grumbled, taking the sheets of paper out of your hand. “I’m not a therapist.”

“You’d be a good therapist,” you commented.

“I don’t get paid enough for that.”

“You don’t get paid at all.”

You followed him back into his office with a smirk, and the two of you went over names you were unfamiliar with. You made it about halfway through Thatch’s division when the door to the clinic slammed open.

“Marco!” Ace hollered. “I need help!”

“You two, I swear,” Marco muttered under his breath. He rose from his seat and walked out of his office. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what to do.” You couldn’t see Ace, but he sounded flustered.

Marco sighed. “About what?”

“Y/N!” Ace cried.

Your cheeks burned at the sound of your name coming from Ace’s lips. You saw Marco’s eyes slide over to you briefly, before snapping back to Ace.

“What about her, Ace?” you could hear the mischief in Marco’s voice, and your stomach knotted.

“I think she hates me,” Ace groaned. “She’s always irritated by me and ignores me! I tried to ask her about the party tonight, but she totally blew me off.”

Marco raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you again. “Did you actually ask her?”

“Well, I tried,” Ace said. “But she ran off with the papers I delivered before I could even get it out!”

“I’m sure she’ll be at the party,” Marco said, a smirk on his face. “Especially if she knows you want her there.”

Ace mumbled something too low for you to hear, and Marco busted out laughing. Your stomach churned thinking about what had been said to get such a reaction from the doctor.

“Okay man, I need you to get out. I have some work to get back to. I’ll see you tonight. And I’m sure she will be there. ”

“Thanks Marco,” Ace mumbled, and you heard the door open and shut.

Marco came back into his office and you stared at the list of names intensely. You knew if you made eye contact with him, the teasing would never end.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Aita Leynolt, how do they fare in combat?”

“Really?” Marco said, disbelieving. “You don’t want to talk about what just happened?”

“I told you already,” you huffed. “I don’t care.”

Marco let out a loud, sharp laugh, indicating he clearly didn’t believe you.

“You know what they say about division leaders and their strategists, don’t you?”

“Don’t. Care.”

“The time spent together. The high stakes. The authority dynamic. They can’t help but-”

“Marco!” you shouted, holding your hands over your ears.

“Oh, Y/N,” Marco laughed.

You gathered up your papers and stormed out of his office before he could utter another word.

You found a quiet unused corner of the library and laid out your papers again, sifting through the names you were familiar with. Even if you didn’t know the newer names, you could get a pretty good sense of the division’s abilities based on the names you did know. Before you realized it, you had to light a lantern to be able to see the list.

“Still looking at names?” spoke a voice from behind you, and you jumped.

You looked behind you to find Ace peering over your shoulder at the sheets curiously.

His eyes slid over to you and they widened nervously when they met yours.

“Can I help you?” you asked, slightly irritated to have had your concentration broken.

“Do you ever take a break?” Ace asked. “You’re always so serious.”

“I have things to do. People’s lives are on the line.”

Ace’s eyes grew soft at your sentiment, and you resisted the urge to melt.

“I can help you go through the names, if you want,” he offered. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you questioned.

He nodded, reaching over you to grab the papers and shuffled them all into a stack. “Tonight you’re not responsible for any lives, okay? Just your own.”

“Just my own…” you echoed, trying not to get lost in his campfire scent.

He offered out his hand to help you up, but you stood up without accepting it. You could see he was hurt by that, and your heart felt an unwarranted pang, which you tried to ignore.

You reached out for your papers, but Ace held them away from you. “Nope!” he said. “You’re enjoying the night.”

“At least let me put them away,” you groaned.

“Nah, because I know what you’re going to do,” he teased. “You’ll stay on deck for thirty minutes and then you’ll sneak back down here to keep working.”

“I will not!” you gasped. You had planned to do exactly that, but you weren’t about to admit that he was right.

“We’ll just put them in my room for safe keeping,” he said, walking down the hallway to the division commander suites.

You groaned, but didn’t object any further. Every division commander had their own room, and they all shared a common living space and a bathroom. It was a pretty nice space, you had to admit. You had spent plenty of nights in Marco’s room throughout the years, both as a child and as a sick teenager, and your presence never seemed to cause him any inconvenience.

You walked into the common area and Ace quickly stepped into his room, threw the papers on his desk, and shut the door, locking it for good measure.

“Locking it seems a bit overdramatic,” you whined, but Ace just laughed.

“Party time!” Ace yelled, and a few commanders stepped out of their rooms to join you.

“Y/N,” Marco suppressed a smirk as he walked into the common room, but you ignored him.

“Hey!” Haruka called, bounding over to you. “It’s still weird to see you back on the ship, you know. I’m glad you’re back, though!”

“Thanks,” you laughed politely. “It’s really good to be back.”

Haruka started walking out the door, and you followed him. “You know,” he said, lowering his voice. “If you ever need to change divisions-”

“Oh, no no,” you said quickly. “I’m fine in division two. Thank you, though.”

“Offer is always open,” Haruka grinned at you, and you nodded.

The thought of switching divisions now felt weird, even if you had begged for it a few days ago. The only person you’d consider switching for was probably Marco, or maybe Izou.

“Drink for drink?” you heard Ace say to someone behind you, and Marco laughed.

“Like hell I’m agreeing to that,” Marco shot back.

Ace jumped up to you, casually looping his arm through yours. “Drink for drink?” he asked, looking at you.

You pulled away, shaking your arm out of his grasp. “No thanks. I value your life.”

Ace scoffed. “You think you can outdrink me?”

“I know I can.”

He held out his hand, eager to get you to shake on it. You grabbed his hand, forming a bet between the two of you. He was going to regret underestimating you.

Seven drinks in, and you were feeling comfortably drunk. You were chatting with a new crew member when you felt a warm hand wrap around your shoulder.

“Done with drink seven?” Ace purred in your ear, and you felt electricity jolt through your body.

“Ahead of you, as usual,” you giggled back, handing him your cup.

“Here’s eight, then,” he said, filling it and handing it off to you.

“You’re so kind,” you laced sarcasm in your words, but Ace pulled away and disappeared into the crowd without another word.

When you finished drink eight, you wandered off to find Ace, ready to make him finish the rest of whatever he had left. But you didn’t see him with his normal crew, and you searched the deck, looking for his familiar back tattoo and orange hat.

Finally, you found him, standing on the quiet part of the deck, watching the stars.

“Found you!” you called, bounding over to him.

“Hm?” Ace turned, and smiled when he saw that it was you. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I just needed a moment.”

His drink was still mostly full, and you frowned at it.

“I’m empty,” you pouted, tipping over your cup to prove it. “You have to catch up.”

“I think I’m done. You win.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got sick already?”

He shrugged. “I want to remember this night, that’s all. I’m comfortably buzzed.”

“Lame.”

Ace chuckled and looked up at the night sky. “The stars are nice tonight.”

You joined him at the railing, your arm pressing against his warm skin.

“The moon is too bright,” you hummed. “The best time to stargaze is during new moons or when the moon is a little sliver.”

“And when will that be?” Ace asked.

“Not for another two weeks or so, probably.” You shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to do this again.”

“Do what again?” Ace questioned, looking at you. Your droopy eyes met his, and you could see his freckles catch a hint of pink.

You pointed at the sky. “Stargaze, silly!”

“Oh,” Ace said, his eyes returning to the stars. “We can still do it tonight, if you want. The sky still looks lovely.”

“I’m too tired tonight,” you said, rubbing your eyes.

“And you just scolded me for tapping out early,” Ace smirked. “Hypocrite.”

“Hey now! I’m only tired because I stopped drinking!” You gave him a playful nudge. “So it’s your fault.”

Ace downed the ale in his cup. “One more round?” he asked.

“Only if you carry me,” you pouted.

Ace squatted down, and you scrambled onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold on. His arms grabbed your legs, and he hoisted you up into the air. You leaned into his tattooed back as he carried you back to the party.

“Ace?” you mumbled in his ear.

“Yeah?”

“I want to go to bed.” You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, and you felt him still for a moment.

“Okay,” he hummed, changing the course of his walk.

He started to walk past the commander's hallway, but you leaned away from him, making him wobble for a second.

“Your room?” you asked. You couldn’t believe you were being so bold. You blamed it on the eight drinks of liquid courage.

“No, not tonight,” he whispered.

You could feel his breathing was hitched and uneven. You made him nervous. You smiled into his neck at the thought.

“Then drop me off in Marco’s room,” you countered. “I don’t sleep in the bunkhouses well during party nights.”

Ace laughed dryly, and headed down the commander’s hallway. When you got to Marco’s room, he jiggled at the doorknob, but it was locked.

“My room it is,” Ace muttered. “I have to put you down to get my key.”

You let out a frustrated groan, but stood on your own two feet when he put you down. You stumbled for a moment, the room spinning slightly, but you managed to stay upright.

Ace quickly grabbed his key and unlocked his room, opening the door and ushering you inside. You found the bed in the dimly lit room, and collapsed into it. You shoved your feet under the covers, and curled into the comfortable sheets.

“Join me?” you asked, peering up at him through your lashes.

He stared at you as if he were a deer caught in headlights. His eyes briefly scanned your body before snapping up to your face, and he gave a hard swallow. You could tell he wanted to join you, but something was holding him back.

“Ace,” you whined, reaching a hand out for him to take.

“Not like this,” he whispered. He bent down and softly kissed your forehead, and you found yourself wanting more of his touch.

“I just want you to lay with me,” you reasoned. “Don’t be a pervert.”

Ace bit his lip, trying to resist, but you lunged forward and grabbed his wrist, pulling him into bed with you. You giggled as he tumbled into the bed, and he urgently shushed you to be quiet. He resigned himself to his fate, and you laid your head against his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled. “But not an uncomfortable warm. Just warm.”

“Yeah, so are you,” he noted. “I’ve never had someone be warmer than me.”

“I can’t help that I’m hotter than you,” you replied.

“You could burn me.”

You giggled. “That’s the steam. The lava-”

“Would just melt my heart.”

You smiled and hummed approvingly at his joke, and nuzzled further into his chest, finally drifting off into sleep.

Maybe Portgas D. Ace wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe you could get used to having him be the second division commander.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x y/n #cozage #the daughters return #✧˚ace✧˚

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teenidlegirl · 2 months

Text

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱 ┆ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ ever since the incident, you’ve been avoiding miguel. it’s best to believe he hates you now. miguel goes on a solo mission and almost gets killed.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ angst, tiny fluff (just an ounce), violence, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, terribly written action scenes (i can’t write action scenes for the life of me)

꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since his voice rang in your ears.

a week since you last saw him.

a week since you’ve been avoiding him.

you still hate yourself for what you’ve done. how dare you invade his personal space. how dare you to be so ignorant and stupid. you betrayed his trust and look where it’s got you now. it’s best to believe he hates you so, no more visits. not only you avoid him but to any trouble so he doesn’t show up. he probably won’t even save your annoying ass anyways after what you did. he has every right to be upset and angry with you, to avoid you at all costs. you don’t blame him.

since the incident, you’ve been burying yourself into work. the weekends are spent with you working your ass off, barely giving yourself a break. your bed sheets have been barely touched other than going to sleep. your fridge looking depressing like before, lacks of food and drinks. there hasn’t been a chance to stop by the grocery store. that is definitely on your ‘to-do’ list, when you get the chance. although, it’s been raining lately so it’s unclear when you’ll get that chance. eh whatever, you’ll do it anyways.

grabbing an umbrella, you head out the door and walk to the grocery store. luckily at this hour, the rain is merely sprinkling. during the night is when the storm hits. after a quick shopping, you take a trip to the bookstore for a new book to read. you’re already a book lover but you adore reading when it’s raining. it just feels cozy, relaxing. reading in the warmth and comfort of your home while the gentle sounds of rain from outside is so relaxing. the minute you get home, that coffee maker is getting into work.

for once after these two weeks of constant work, you finally take a break. returning home from your little outing, you change into your nightdress with a silky robe and those classic white fuzzy slippers of yours. snuggling in the couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and your new book in the other, you indulge in perfect solitude. you picked out a murder mystery novel this time, one of your favorite genres. plus, it’s a perfect read for this type of weather.

god you need this, relaxation and solitude. this past week really kicked your ass, mainly your fault for putting yourself through it. but now, you can finally relax and just take a break. as you read the first page of the first chapter, you happily sip your coffee, the soft noise of rain smoothing your mind.

a true handmade heaven.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since he saw your tearful eyes.

a week since he last saw you.

a week since he fucked up things with you.

god he’s never been depressed like this in a long time. the guilt has been plaguing his entire soul like a damn poison. a filthy substance eating up his heart like it’s a meal displayed on a plate. miguel actually likes your presence, despite the two of you not exactly friends or whatnot. however, he really does miss it. he misses you; a random civilian yet captured his attention. he feels like absolute shit for yelling at you like that. what the fuck is wrong with him? you didn’t deserve that. another mess by his doing.

yes, it was wrong for you to snoop through his private files, especially those files. they are private for a reason. not a single soul to see them other than himself. however, someone else did.

but that doesn’t excused him for how he yelled at you. so vile and vicious to the point there’s tears in your eyes. miguel knows you’re sorry, you’re smart to know your mistakes. he forgives you anyways because he hates for what he did and misses you.

not only this affected his mood but also his job. miguel grew more angrier and impatient which scared some people. majority of the society were unsure why he’s acting like this, but certain members knew the exact reason. peter and jess are worried about him, and you too. with his less tempered demeanor, those two have been keeping a cautious eye on him. they know something happened between you and miguel. your sudden disappearance and miguel’s more aggressive behavior were enough proof. not only those two noticed but the spider teens as well. miles and gwen worry for you. hobie is pissed at miguel for what he did but keeps it to himself, and he also worries for you.

it’s just been a mess at HQ. miguel has been a mess. that’s why he has been partaking in numerous missions to occupy his upset mind. burying himself in work seems reasonable, at least that’s what he tells himself. others, it’s a shitty idea but why argue with a stubborn man? the last thing everyone needs is a more pissed off boss than he already is.

“miguel, it’s late. do you have to go on another mission?” lyla asks, concern laced in her tone.

“the fate of the multiverse depends on it.” miguel doesn’t even take a glance at her, too focused on the orange screens filing his last report before the next.

the ai sadly sighs, shaking her head. “miguel, please. everything is fine. go home and rest. the multiverse will still be intact in the morning.”

“no. i’m shutting you off for the rest of the night.” he states sternly.

lyla looks at the tired man with slumped shoulders and a concern look. “at least bring backup.”

miguel shakes his head. “won’t be necessary. i’ll handle it on my own.” and with that, the ai vanishes by his command and he walks through a portal to his next mission, against his screaming fatigue mind.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

the storm was hitting hard, the occasional thunder and lightning in the night sky. not the ideal situation during a mission but have to endure it in order to get the job done. luckily it’s just one anomaly, a doc ock variant so it should be fairly easy and quick to take care of. exiting the portal, miguel lands on a random rooftop where the anomaly can be seen from a few miles away climbing up buildings with its mechanical tentacles. classic doc ock behavior, he thought. without hesitation, miguel swings after the villain through the harsh rain. a moment of lightening and thunder strikes as he catches up to the anomaly, a badass effect to a chasing scene. as the doc ock variant lands on a rooftop, miguel full blown strikes him down as he collides with the anomaly, causing them to crash onto the ground. the villain groans in pain while miguel swiftly stands up to his feet and starts attacking like it was a normal thing for him.

the villain acts quickly by blocking miguel’s attempts with his tentacles. the tall hero uses his webs as an attempt to capture the anomaly but fails when one tentacle cuts it off in one slice, earning a grunt from the hero. miguel manages to block and avoid doc ock’s swings until, due to his lack of spidey sense, a harsh hit to the back of his head causes him to fallback to the ground in pain. a loud groan of pain and anger escapes his lips. a mischievous yet evil chuckle fills his ears as miguel tries standing back up despite the pain in the back of his head.

“failed to see that coming, spider-man?” the doc ock variant teased, smirking mischievously.

the beaten up hero heavily grunts in response. “i’ve had a enough of you, doc.” and with that, miguel swings into action once again. a full blown battle.

the brawl between the two continues on, both practically drenched at this point. loud grunts and groans echoed in the air, mixing with the pouring sound of the rain. miguel suffered several punches and scratches. he is a panting mess now, chest heaving rapidly and fists clenching.

this is definitely one of the toughest missions he’s done. well, it’s a solo mission which he has done a several times but this time is a challenger. the rain doesn’t help much so that was one reason.

while too focused on what’s in front of him, miguel didn’t notice the spear sticking out from one tentacle aiming for his back. it slices through his back, cutting a layer of flesh, causing the hero to groan loudly and hunch over in pain. that serves as the final straw. using all his strength, miguel fights back until one punch to the face strikes the anomaly down in utter defeat. finally, the son of a bitch is captured.

restraining the villain in his webs like a cocoon, miguel sends him back to HQ. feeling utterly exhausted and in pain, the beaten up spider-man 2099 stand still as the rain pours down on him, the droplets bouncing off his broad shoulders. by command, his mask disappears, revealing his beaten up face. visibly bruising and scratch marks, a few strands of wet hair stick to his forehead. sweat and blood mixed with the droplets of rain on his skin. he tries catching his breath, or at least attempts to, but the agonizing sensation on his back makes him wheeze a little. what a fucking fight.

after a few moments of solitude in the rain, he jumps off the building and swings away. instead of heading back to HQ like he normally does after completing a mission, he heads to someplace else. of course the pain isn’t making him think straight but miguel doesn’t really give a shit. as he continues swinging from one building to another, he lands on a familiar rooftop which is across a familiar apartment building. a visible warm light shines in one specific apartment that he knows certainly well. without hesitation, he swings over and lands on the balcony, making a soft thud in the process. scanning inside with those ruby eyes, miguel finds you on your couch reading a book with a blanket covering you and your dog beside you.

how peaceful and relaxed you look. how deeply invested you are in whatever you’re reading. the occasional gentle pets you give daisy while reading, your eyes never leaving the page. but most importantly, how enthralling you look. seems like you’ve been okay since he last saw you. well, that’s probably false but at this moment, you look content.

that’s when it hit; how much he missed you. finally seeing you in the flesh, and not on monitors, made his heart flutter. the guilt creeps in his already broken and aching body once again. miguel just stands there completely mesmerized by your soft, peaceful presence, ignoring how drenched he is by the rain. honestly, he doesn’t give a shit. your tranquil nature takes his mind away from the rain and pain.

the broken spider-man just stands there like a complete fool mesmerized by an angel.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˖ ࣪ ༘ @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

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trashpandato · 6 months

Text

Control

Kara has no idea how things got out of control so quickly.

One minute, they were sitting in their booth at Al’s, downing their second round of drinks while chatting animatedly about that time when Alex accidentally ordered pizzas loaded with anchovies, and the next, tables were getting pushed over, chairs were flying and the entire bar was engulfed in chaos.

As with most bar fights, it’s completely unclear what or who started it. Kara briefly considers simply using her superspeed to subdue everyone enough to put an end to it, but then she remembers she’s blown out her powers earlier that day.

A bottle comes flying toward her and she ducks just in time. And then, someone grabs her shoulder and spins her around, but before Kara can even get a good look at who grabbed her, Lena is there, blocking a fist that was meant for Kara’s nose, and then throwing one clean punch to knock out Kara’s would-be attacker.

Shocked, all Kara can do in the moment is nod, but Lena is already taking a step toward a large burly dude who has Alex pinned to the bar. Lena yells to get his attention and then punches him out as well, though it takes more than one swing for him to go down.

Eventually, things die down. Kara assumes that whoever started the fight is either out cold or has left the bar amid the mayhem.

“You alright?” Alex asks, concern for her sister evident in her face.

“I’m fine. Not a scratch. Thanks to Lena.”

They both turn towards where Lena is currently checking on Brainy, who seems a little shell shocked by what he has just witnessed.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I had no idea she even knew how to throw a punch.”

Kara wants to nod, but then a series of images flash through her mind: Lena punching Beth Breen unconscious while Kara was being attacked by the nanobots, Lena knocking out Eve Tessmacher in Kaznia, Lena aiming right for Lex’s chin, twice.

“I’m going to go take her home,” Kara declares, knowing that all she wants to do right now is gather Lena up in her arms and hug her.

Alex nods. “Alright. You do that. I’ll call J’onn to help me sort out this mess.”

It takes a little while before Kara can convince Lena to leave, to let Alex take care of the aftermath of the fight, but eventually, they make it back to Kara’s apartment. As soon as they get inside, Kara makes a beeline for the freezer compartment of her fridge and pulls out a bag of frozen peas.

“Here. For your knuckles.”

Kara holds out the bag to Lena who raises an eyebrow. “Peas?”

“I, um, I don’t usually need ice packs myself, so, this is all I have.”

Lena smirks. “Oh I get that. I’m just surprised you have…frozen vegetables in your apartment.”

“I do eat green things sometimes, you know?” Kara retorts, rolling her eyes.

She takes a few steps and sits down on her couch next to Lena. Gently, Kara takes both of Lena’s hands and inspects them. Her knuckles are red and a little swollen, and there is a small cut that’s already scabbed over. Kara shakes her head and looks up.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Yes, I did,” Lena cuts her off. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt my friends, hurt you.”

Kara presses a careful kiss to Lena’s injured hands and then rests the bag of peas on them.

“You, Lena Luthor, are my hero.”

“And you, Kara Danvers, are a sap.”

“Maybe. But I’m the sap who loves you.”

At that, Lena ducks forward a little and captures Kara’s lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you, too.

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

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strawberymilku · 3 months

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Playing Dangerous

featuring: Police!Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader

genres: nsfw!, crimes, mention of: thugs, arson, mafia, car sex, oral sex, blowjob, dirtytalk, one night stand, fingering, doggy style, praises, police theme, corrupt, minor gunplay

a/n: i was rewatching jojo, and ive been wanting to write a police smut with lana del rey lyrics as prompt, and my bf wnted to collab so i just had to write it. not proofread yet. might do part 2 for it. word: 4k, a bit long but it was worth it.

The woman was speeding for sure, but Abbacchio could doubt if she was the witness or the culprit for committing arson, Abbacchio heard the sound of the motorcycle approaching, and he turned to face the direction in which it was coming. It was heading straight in his direction-? He wasn't sure if the person on the bike was who he suspected it to be, but he raised his revolver as the bike came closer..it certainly looked suspicious...

"Why you?!" she yelled, cursing, he was brave enough that he did not care if he died to get her, pulling him on the side of the motorbike, with a swift dash, saving his life as he was at the back of her motorbike. It was the work of the Stand for sure, but sadly the man couldn’t see Stands like that yet but just felt someone lift him on her motorbike. That certainly caught him off guard. Was she just riding directly into him? The situation was unclear...Was she trying to run him over? To escape-? He was surprised at how quickly she acted. He could have been killed if it hadn't been for her, which meant..she couldn't be the arsonist, but she still looked suspicious..and yet she saved his life... Yet her actions are justified yet "Kill me later, what is wrong with you, you would be run across in my wheels," she had a gangly Italian accent, still on the motorbike with huge speed. "Am I getting a ticket for speeding too?" she said sarcastically. He looked at her back where a group of thugs were still chasing over her. Leone had a stunned look on his face. She was certainly lively, and rather..crude. He certainly wasn't expecting that attitude from a potential arsonist, but for some odd reason he didn't feel threatened by her- in fact, he was rather intrigued- she hadn't even noticed his police uniform. After a few moments of stunned silence, he finally replied

"Ah...I'm a police officer. But I can't just let anyone ride at such high speeds..why are you speeding away from people?" "They are after me, whaddya think," she went into different roads taking a lot of turns as the gang lost track of her, after minutes of having the stranger at the back, they stopped in a random alleyway, with a big sigh, she realized it was the cop, not that she’s afraid of him anyways. "It's my job to keep the streets safe and look out for suspicious behaviour- like someone on a motorcycle riding at dangerously high speeds in a residential area."

The suspicious behaviour mentioned included the arson incident at the local gas station that happened not a day ago. Although he didn't outright believe her, he decided to look into her claim. For now, he'd only ask questions to get a grip on the situation.

"May I ask what you were doing around that area where the suspected arson took place?"

"Arson? You think I'd commit arson-" Her lighter got pulled from her pocket, he was daring enough to get that from her leather jacket. "No, please, I'm a smoker," she pulled out her cigarettes to counter his proof. The policeman took a second to think. It would be highly unusual for someone to commit a criminal offense like arson just to cover up smoking. At the same time, he had no evidence proving her guilty yet. He decided to ask another more personal question.*

"Why were they on your tail to begin with? Do you know why these gang members were after you?" That was a sensitive topic for a mafia’s daughter, no way she could leak her identity out like that. "Yes I do, I have my own reasons, which place was getting burned again?" she tilted her head, as she was demanded to show her license, but she looked reluctant to show it.

There was still the issue of the gang members after her that he had to inquire about.

"The Shell station at the corner of Via Maddaloni and Via Caracciolo."

"I was at a Hilton Hotel I swear, you can get the evidence," she raised her arms, showing everything from her pocket. Everything seemed suspicious to Abbacchio, no way he could get information out of her mouth like that, so the best way was to flip her body quickly, putting her hands at his back as he slapped the metal handcuffs on her wrists, locking it. He was unsure why he did that but he believed this was the best way. She sighed, "My dad will be killing me if he finds out I’m going to be late,” it was too much for just speeding up in a motorbike.

He couldn’t help but raise a small smirk. Her hands being cuffed behind her back gave him a fair idea of what he could do to her.

"I suppose you aren't very much of a good girl?"

*"Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer,"* she replied still with her hands on her back as she was forced to walk back to where his car was. He let out a small laugh. It was rather amusing how easily she was acting so calm over being handcuffed and detained. Even if this incident would end up being a dead end for the arson case, he was still curious. She was just detained for being a suspect, just yet. Things are getting exciting.

"And exactly what is your name, miss?"

“Y/N,” she grunted still feeling her wrist already from the handcuffs. “Well then Y/N, too bad, you will be a warrant for, ‘reckless driving, running through stop signs, driving at dangerously high speeds, running through red lights- and for suspicion of arson. You have the right to remain silent,” he said in a stern tone, he couldn’t help but smile at her rolling her eyes. *"No, I wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure,"* she tried to pout her lips to use a charm on him, thinking he would let her go this time.

Abbacchio's smirk grew wider, as he tried not to laugh at her attempt at seduction.

"I don't think a pout will suffice for an excuse in court."

Her attitude was amusing he thought. Usually, people would be acting aggressively, but she seemed to have accepted the situation quite easily.

"Ah yeah, my dad told me not to talk to the police, because I can demand rights for a lawyer," she tried to rethink again, trying to stay silent as they slowly walked back to his car. She had the attitude of a spoiled teenager, but he couldn't help but be amused. Usually, people would be threatening legal action, not talking about their parents, but she was a different case.

"Your father told you not to talk to the police..? Is he one of those who would try to bribe officers to avoid arrest?"

"Oh really, does he?" she grinned, still using her legs to take sweet sweet time back to the car, it was taking so long than usual just to stall time as much as she could. She was certainly being flirty for someone who had just been arrested.

"If you're expecting me to be charmed you certainly have a poor way of showing it."

Though she certainly was charming..but he'd rather stay professional at the moment. He’s a committed policeman after all. "Am I going to jail for this?" her shoulders slouched at him trying to repeat what she committed as if he were his mom. “Like, *the house is already on fire right, I swear I’m not a liar,*” she added to him to second guess his decisions.

Abbacchio gave her a skeptical look. She definitely wasn't being completely honest. But what she said about the house being on fire definitely seemed more believable than her being the arsonist. It seemed like these gang members came after her for something else. He decided to ask just to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m not asking about the arson crime, I’m asking how are you related to those thugs, it’s very dangerous you know,” he tried to squeeze more questions to get more information out of her.

The girl didn’t reply, it was indeed a chilly night, her lips were quivering from the cold, even if she had the leather jacket on her. “Are you cold?” he asked with concern in his eyes, his hands on her handcuffs, yet pulling her close to him, trying to walk back where he came from.

*“Well, I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine, thanks for asking.”* she smiled at him to look up at him with her eye smile.

"Did you owe them money? Did you have their illegal drugs? What's your ties to these gang members?" "Tell me do you always work so late?" she didn't answer his question, as she had the right not to though. She was very charming, but also very stubborn- he almost found it admirable. Maybe he should've taken her up on her earlier offer of charm. She seemed very confident in her ability to seduce him. It could be the right moment to give in to temptation.

"It's my job to watch the late night shift, what does my work schedule have to do with your involvement with gangs?"

*"Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?"* she tried to pull it out but it was not to avail. Still, she didn’t give up yet to flirt with him. Abbacchio gave her a small laugh at the girl, this was the moment for which he was hoping. That is, she was very much starting to flirt with him- so now was the perfect time to reciprocate.

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me to take the cuffs off?"

It might just be wishful thinking, but it certainly looked like she was trying to flirt. He was hoping for it anyway, and now she had given him the right opportunity by attempting to pull her cuffs off... But he must stay professional right?

*"Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer?"* she asked a question, still finding ways to flirt with him last minute possible. Finally, they arrived at the car that had printed ‘Polizia’ on it. “Playtime is over, get in the car,” he tried to stay in a demanding tone. The ‘officer’ word did get the man inhaled deeply, oh the things he could do with her right now, as he placed her in the backseat of the car, respectfully, restraining himself from touching her. He’s a good policeman, he couldn’t be doing that. *"You can ask me anything you want, anything, like anything,"* she smiled as he slowly fell for her trap, he decided to sit in the backseat, for a while, closing the car door behind him, and locking it, giving her a dirty smirk. Abbacchio chuckled and shook his head at her flirtatious comments, yet he also realized just how tempting the situation was.

"Anything, hmm?"

He thought for a bit. His mind started to wonder as he looked down at her. She was very appealing.

"What would you do, if I decided to uncuff you- right now?" "I don't know, officer," she looked at his lips then back to him. "You do like purple lipstick, don't you, what is it? Givenchy brand?" she joked, in between, giving a mysterious appeal to the policeman wanting to give in to his desires.

"Good guess. Though I may need more than just your beauty alone to convince me."

"Like what, officer?" she leaned closer towards his neck, it was rather a risqué attempt, she was down to play with fire too, from the looks in his eyes. Leone bit his lip slightly but he still tried to hold back, he wanted to stay professional and focused. But his heart couldn't help but race as she got close. He wondered how this would end...if there was a way he could fall for the trap.

The smell of her perfume hit his nose making it that much harder to focus. He was very tempted. She seemed to have been waiting for him to reply for a minute now. *"Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger?"* she'd be the one asking questions here instead, how the tables have turned, touching his chest on his police uniform, with her fingertips. This made him raise an eyebrow, the question she had just asked was a little unexpected. Though given he was staring directly at her lips he couldn't deny that he was rather tempted to take it as a sign. But he decided to answer nonetheless.

"I don't have a girlfriend..not at the moment anyway." "*Well that's interesting, have you thought of dating a* **mafia's daughter?**" she replied, dropping the biggest hint of all time, until he realized, no wonder why the gang was after her. He should let her go right? The thought of having her as a girlfriend was still tempting..her attractiveness, her flirtatious attitude, it was too much to ignore.

"Are you offering?" "Maybe I am, offering you a taste?" she leaned closer towards him slowly. It was obvious, that she a tease, still not kissing him, just yet, but their faces were just inches apart. Abbacchio held his breath. Her words were tempting, her attitude was tempting..and her lips were certainly tempting- all she had to do was just close the space between them and they'd be locked in a passionate kiss...

He felt like he might die if he didn't go through with their kiss. He wanted to play her game and play it perfectly. Her words had been tempting since she said them and he could only answer with one answer.

Abbacchio took in a deep breath and nodded his head. **The flames are getting higher, and so is his desire. It's kind of exciting, don't you think?

"Am I playing a dangerous game, officer?" she teased, still not kissing him, just yet, she wanted to see how far this would go.

The policeman was gritting his teeth in anticipation. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and he knew he shouldn't play it. She was involved with the mafia after all. But the temptation was too much to pass up. He had to do it. The smell of her perfume still lingered, making it much more inviting.

"It's a very dangerous game."

Abbacchio finally caved in. He knew he couldn't control himself anymore. He closed the distance and pulled her towards him, giving in their passionate kiss. She crashed on her lips softly, melting right down on this gothic policeman, without shame, he was worth a one-night stand, but she didn't really care, their kisses became hotter and hotter each second, he gripped her body, forcing her onto his thighs, looking up at her. Their kiss has started to deepen. His lips brushed against hers as he pulled her even closer. This girl..she was too irresistible. Her flirting and teasing, even the danger of her being involved with the mafia. He just wanted more. She touched his badge and looked up at him. "Abbacchio was it?" she kissed him once more, not enough of his kisses, at this point the purple lipstick has been worn off at this point, some even staining her lips.

"That is my name, yes." "So officer~" the way she said was so enticing,

"What am I supposed to do now?" she felt his hands roaming all across her body, as if he owned her right here, no tonight, he could do whatever he wanted for tonight.

"Will I be forgiven for this, officer?" she was like a crime he must commit just for tonight, a sin he wouldn't regret doing, for sure.

"I guess I'll have to figure out how to punish you for this..for now though, I'm sure you don't mind my hands on your body, hmm?"

His smile was quite teasing too and even though he was trying to appear professional, it was clear he was enjoying this quite a lot. He leaned back in and began kissing her again. He gave her a look that told her he was enjoying this as his hands stayed firmly on her hips. “Let’s make this exciting for the both of us,” he pulled out his revolver from his waistband, pointing at her head. He must tried it out at least, he needed to have the upper hand as well. "Officer, I will do anything to repent," her words were dripping as if it was made of honey, she wasn’t even fazed the gun barrel was pointed at her head, biting her lips. Things have gotten out of hand. "You will, will you?" he grinned of mischievous how he liked her under his power.

"How about you tell me what you'd do to repent- and I'll think about it and see if it's enough of a punishment for you." "First, I'd unbuckled that belt of yours and..." her eyes trailed downwards at the seat at the bulge forming in his navy blue pants and up to his golden purple eyes, that would be enough for his imagination to do the rest of the work. “Okay then, get to work, don’t just be an all talk,” he pressed the revolver harder on her skin, geez this man was full of sass, which made her actually take off his pants, obeying his orders, just as he wanted her to. "Oh, please don't shoot me yet, Mr Polizia, I will be good," she unravelled his hard cock from his underwear, palming it between her small hands trying to please him, her handcuffs were still on.

"So you'll be a better girl if I don't shoot you?"

He looked down at her with a teasing and tempting look, she was really quite the girl. This was the most teasing, dangerous girl he had ever come across on the job. “You know your small hands aren’t in good use, use your mouth,” he demanded, pointing the gun directly at her and even though he wasn't gonna shoot, she could clearly see the barrel against her. He looked at her with a teasing grin. She looked so pretty under him, and all the power he had on her. She nodded at his orders, bending down, licking his wet tip for a while, which made him have a satisfying moan, his impulse made him push his right hand on her head, pushing her mouth closely for the blowjob. His breath was shaky already as he felt every part of her mouth on his dick, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, it was all worth it. Worth it from a tiring shift, she was trying to suck him good, she looked like she was an expert at this, feeling his tip pushed against her throat, she was trying to be his only little good girl, a good girl just for Mr Policeman right here. Oh, how he’d wish he could possibly want her every night. Her mouth was starting to tire her, as all her saliva was all around his base, “Abbacchio, sir, are you satisfied yet?” she looked up at him for his mercy, for his approval, for his attention, with those orbs. “Not yet, I wanted to cum on your face,” he pointed the gun at her, demanding to resume her lips to work again. Her head bobbed again and again, trying to please him as much as she could, deepthroating him, her tongue twirling on his length. She liked how much vocal he was, praising her, for her good use of the mouth.

“My god, you weren’t lying when you said you will have your mouth in good use,” that was the best blowjob he received in his life so far, feeling every orgasm trying to rip from his heated skin. After minutes of torturing her throat, he finally gave in, painting on her face with his white liquids, with a satisfied smug face. “Uh, uh, uh, mi amore,” he had a menaced look over her with a tsk, “Who said I was done with you?” for a policeman like him, having stamina could be true. He bent her over, his gun still pointing at her. The time to show who is the monster here, not giving her a break.

“Look here, girl, *if you can't stand the heat. Then stay out of the fire,*” he groped all over breasts, throwing the gun away on the floor of the car. She happened to listen all to his command, like a good little girl, he pulled down her bottom clothing, his fingers trying to play her folds through her underwear, trying to tease her. “Oh, your cunt is wet here, *you might get what you desire*,” he put the underwear aside, rubbing on her clit, trying to gain some moans from her. Things are starting to get interesting. “I’m not putting on anything, yeah, just to warn you,” his cock tried to get between her wet folds, just like that. “I-uh, policia, please don’t you have a condom-” her mouth was shoved with the finger he got her pussy juices on. “Lick it up,” she couldn’t deny such requests from the hot officer, licking it, while he kept pounding her behind her back. Not enough, he needed to feel every wall of her just like that. “I’m going raw, so shut your pretty mouth like that,” He had an enormous speed, gripping her waist, her arms against the tinted glass, the car starting to fog up from the movements, “Listen here, little girl, and listen good,” he raised her body good, her boobs all over the window glass at this point, she screamed more as her G spot has been getting all this abuse from the sudden position.

“Please, please, have mercy on me, officer-” her words were cut as he pushed his fingers in her throat, attempting to shut her mouth. This man is indeed wild, the luckiest night for a girl like her. **”Even if you scream, or beg me to stop, or have mercy, I’m not stopping,”** he rutted inside her cunt as if it was meant to be shaped by his large cock.

“Not until I’m satisfied,” he hummed, using it as if she was a toy she was made just for him to fuck her. Her cries and moans filled the whole street, think to their luck no one was in the streets, a few maybe. Do you this man cares? No? **“Not like you can stop me anyways, hmm?”** he didn’t stop his thrusts, her pussy aching from all the movements, their moans were in unison. She was already tired at this point, getting the slaps on her buttocks, his hand making her chin move just to kiss him as he kept railing behind her back, his lusts and desires being fulfilled by this one girl. “If you keep doing like that, I might-” she panted for air, she needed for a moment there, “I might, cum~” her body squealed in pleasure, holding all her sanity.

It was prolonged sex for sure, he finally had to urge to orgasm, he pulled out in time, cumming all over her body, she really looked pretty as if he was the artist, painting more cum on the belly. “Know your place, just like that,” he looked coldly into her eyes, he didn’t have time for this right? The aftercare was little, he threw her tissues and a bottle of water he had in the car, putting on his clothes, he did let her go this time, unlocking her sore wrists, and going back to his driver seat.

He did drove her back to her motorbike was at, even opening the door for her to get out, after minutes of silence, he kissed her forehead softly, like a gentleman would, before he finally let her go. But one thing for sure is that it was one of the best nights he’d ever had with a girl. A sucker for romance, *lovin’ a hurricane*

part 2?

#jjba part 5 #leone abbacchio #jjba abbacchio smut #abbacchio smut #leone abbbacchio smut #leone abbacchio x reader #police abbacchio #jjba smut #jjba x reader #jojo part 5 #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo fanfic #jojo abbacchio #jojo smut

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justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months

Text

Vexed

Summary:(this ask) Hey, I absolutely adore your work. Could you write about like a burned out reader who doesn't feel like doing her work and needs encouragement? Been having a bad few months lately. <3

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: mentions of crying, tooth rotting fluff

masterlist | ask box(requests are open!)

“Fuck!” you wanted to yell that, but ended up saying it with a gritted face. Your co-worker Theo was passing by, and seemed vaguely interested in your misery.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You look…tired?” he remarked.

“I am tired. So fucking tired” you slumped down in your seat, slowly sliding down more and more into it.

“You could take a break”

“Break? That’s what you’re suggesting? You know how many deadlines and pile-ups we have, right?” you raised your eyebrows, too annoyed at him already.

“I know that Y/n. I’m quite burnt out myself. But if you take a break, things will be a bit better.”

“I don’t have time for a fucking break, Theo” you put your right palm on your head, which was throbbing from stress.

"Look, I get that you're stressed, but you don't have to take it out on me. Maybe if you focused on the work instead of yelling at everyone, you wouldn't be in this mess."

“Oh thank you, Theo! I was so desperately in need of a lecture from you, aren’t I? Just go away!” you yelled again, and he got pissed off, and left.

You couldn’t stand being there anymore. The atmosphere was so frustrating. Everyone clammed up in a small space, running around, doing their work. It shouldn’t be frustrating per-se, but you were. You had been working without rest for the past 40 hours, and there were so many projects and reports lined up, you wanted to scream. And cry too, maybe?

Gathering up your stuff from your table, some files, your laptop and stationary, you decided you would do this at home. After you had had “a break”.

Driving to your house was miserable too, every signal seemed so much longer than it actually was. Every speeding car that made you slam your brakes hard made you want to get out of the car and yell and curse them. It was so vexing.

Pulling up to your house, you parked the car in the garage, and got out. You left your stuff in your car, deciding to take it out later when you actually felt like working.

You lived with your boyfriend, Harry. You had been in a relationship for more than a year, and had just moved in a few months ago.

Everything about him was great. He was so loving, you loved him so much. He took care of you, you cooked and baked together. After a long day of work for the both of you, he would be there for you, holding you and comforting you, telling you that everything will be alright.

You missed him so much. You wished he would come home early.

As soon as you entered, the dark house resembled the state of your mind, all blank and foggy, unclear with no idea where to go. You decided to take a shower and cry.

You walked to your shared bedroom, stripping off your clothes one by one. As soon as you entered your bathroom, you threw everything away, opened your hair and turned the water on, standing below it.

As the water cascaded down, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. The day's challenges, the pressure, the relentless tide of responsibilities—it all spilled out in the form of silent sobs. Alone in the shower, you let the water wash away the stress, if only for a moment.

Tears streamed down your face, flowing away with the water into the drain. It all felt so meaningless in the moment. Your job, the never-ending work, the deadlines, the piled up spreadsheets, the tension, the stress. It was eating you alive.

Little did you know, Harry had come back soon too. He parked his range rover, and saw your car too. He became happy that you were home soon, and you would get to spend some more time together.

As soon as he reached the door, he found out that it wasn’t locked. He panicked, thinking that someone must have barged in.

“Y/N?” he screamed at the top of his voice, opening the door and locking it. Inside, all the lights were out, and it got more and more mysterious.

He yelled your name, searching for you in the kitchen, in the living room, in the backyard, everywhere. Finally, he climbed up the stairs and went to your bedroom.

There, he saw some of your clothes lying on the floor, and heard the shower. He quickly jogged, and barged in.

He saw you standing under the shower, cold water pouring down. Your back was turned to him, shoulders quivering with each silent sob.

You had had a bad day.

You turned around to look at him, and just stared at him for a second. You turned back around, trying to stop your crying.

“Lovie, you okay?” he asked in a very soft voice, already inside the shower and closing the door behind him.

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, just needed a moment. It's been a day."

“Sure, love. Mind if I join?”

You nodded silently. You both knew how much you needed his presence, him, in this moment.

He quietly stripped down behind you, and walked in, closing the shower curtain.

As soon as he was near, you quickly turned around, hugging him. Your sobs and tears flew freely, without a care in the world. Harry held you tightly, rubbing your back, trying to calm you down.

"It's okay, lovie. It's all okay. Shh," he reassured, gently patting your back, allowing you to cry as much as needed. He was present now, and he wouldn't let you go through this alone.

After a few moments, your tears had stopped, and there were only sobs coming out of your mouth. You pulled yourself from his embrace, looking into his bright green eyes with swollen ones.

“I’m sorry, I’m too much sometimes” you tried to pull off of him, wanting to give him space if he wanted.

“No, please don’t say that. You’re never too much.”

“It’s just that-there’s so so much work, Harry. So much workload piled up, and I don’t want to do anything. I just want to burn everything away and sleep. “

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Understand? There’s no need to blame yourselves. You’re so good at your job. You’ll figure it out. I know you will.” He kissed your forehead gently, and you sheepishly smiled.

“Thank you, Harry. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, love. Now, how long have you been standing under this ice-cold water?”

“Long enough”

“Alright, let’s get out before we get sick”

He walked across the shower and brought you a warm, fluffy towel, softly wrapping it around you. You were shivering now, and he looked at you with disbelief.

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to cool off.” You pouted cutely, and his frown immediately went away.

“Can’t get angry at my cute bunny, can I?”

You smiled, and you both walked out of the shower. He dried you off outside, picking up fresh pajamas to wear.

“Tell you what. I’ll bake you some cookies. With that new frosting we bought. And some coffee too?”

“No. Hot chocolate”

“Sure, love. You can find a movie for us to watch till I make you food.”

“But I want to be with you” you walked over to him, clinging to his body like a koala bear.

“Okay, love. You can sit on the island and I’ll feed you cookie dough.”

“And chocolates”

“And chocolates.”

“And kisses too?”

“So many kisses for you, my love”

a/n: to the anon who requested this, i hope you liked it. sorry for the daly, and i really hop you're alright, love! you can talk to me whenever you want

lovely divider by @cafekitsune

i hope you like this! please don't hate me

here's my ko-fi if you feel generous

requests and feedback is welcome and much appreciated!!

>>>

general taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888

let me know if you want to be added, removed

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theminecraftbee · 1 month

Note

Just reread the whole scs tag and now I want to see Three's first meeting with Etho (Iirc the clip of Grian being scared of Etho sneaking around and then seeming to teleport outside the ice shop is Grian's first meeting with Etho? (And it was season 7.) And I think the "two nervous animals stare at each other" vibes could fit.)

Three is nervous.

It has heard of Etho before. Etho is very high on the threat rankings it had memorized; Etho is considered more of a threat than is currently worth taking out; Etho is, apparently, a legend even around Players who do not understand quite how much of a threat he is. There are standing orders and plans still programmed into Three on how to take him out in a way that would not make a martyr of him. Three thinks many of these plans are stupid.

Three--

Three is nervous. It has heard of Etho before, and it does not know if Etho would have heard of a Blade before, or if any of that would get in the way of it conversing with Etho. Three is relatively confident it could beat Etho in a fight. For all Etho is a threat, he is merely a Player, and Three is a Blade. That had never been why Etho is a threat. That had...

Mumbo had promised Etho was not mean. Three had asked Mumbo what that had to do with anything. Mumbo had mumbled something about how, well, if Three was worried about Etho yelling at it, then Etho wouldn't. Etho would actually also worry, Mumbo assured Three. Etho seems cool at first, but he's actually kind of awkward, Mumbo assured Three.

Three had commented that 'seeming cool at first but actually being kind of awkward' is, apparently, a common problem. It can understand why.

None of that really solves why Three is nervous, but going over the ways Etho is a threat, and the plans it has to mitigate that threat is... nice. It should not use them, because Mumbo has promised that Hermitcraft is safe. Three finds it does not want to be the reason it is not safe. Three will not mitigate the threat of Etho. Three should not have to mitigate the threat of Etho.

Three is nervous because it wants something from Etho, and doesn't have anything to offer in return.

It stands in the jungle and waits. It sees Etho arrive, because it is watching for him, but Etho seems surprised, backing away nervously on seeing Three.

"Oh. Um. Hello there. You're Mumbo's scary friend. The new one he brought here. That one. That needed help? Um, I'm Etho."

"I know. Does Mumbo describe me as scary?"

"Not usually?" Etho says.

"Oh," Three says. It does not give away its disappointment. Etho is not a handler and not another Watcher, but it is best not to give away emotions like disappointment when it wants something from him anyway.

"Is there a reason you're, uh, lurking in my base?"

Three does not fidget. It is too well-trained to. "I am here to ask a favor."

"Shoot, uh, I guess I can hear it," Etho says.

"You are making your base out of interiors, you said, in the meeting," Three says. "I--I want. I want to do that. I want--I want you to show me how to do that." The words are harder to pull out of its mouth than it thought they would be. "I do not have much to offer you. I could take care of one of your enemies, but Mumbo says Hermitcraft is safe, and I do not know if I want to do that, I just know that I want..."

Three trails off.

"Apologies. I am unclear. Will clarify," Three says.

Asking for things it wants is--hard. It's still hard. It is not good at reporting on what it wants. Etho is staring at it. Three stands perfectly still, because it is well-trained.

"Most builders aren't a big fan of interiors," Etho says slowly, "let alone a base entirely out of them. That's, uh, a big favor you're asking. Can I ask why?"

Beneath the mask, Three opens its mouth. It closes it again. It does not know how to say: because I am the thing that replaced someone who built big empty shells. Because I filled one of those empty shells. Because I could have been one of those empty shells. Because I do not want to leave behind empty shells. Because if I am gone, I want the things to leave to be knit socks and cozy rooms and laughter, not a big empty temple with a farm in the middle. Because I am Three, and I am a person, and I want the world to remember that.

What Three says instead is: "I can pay you back. I am useful."

Etho looks at Three. He rubs the back of his head. "You know, normally no one is dumb enough to give me an IOU this early in the season?" He laughs almost nervously. "Sure, man, I can teach you to make a base out of interiors. Why not."

"Thank you," Three says, and its shoulders do not slump, because it is well-trained.

"No problem. Say, what do you think about pranks?"

"I would like to learn to do those too," Three says promptly.

Etho also wears a mask. This does not stop Three from being able to tell the man is smirking.

"You know what? We're gonna get along just fine," he says. Strangely, Three believes him.

#answered #eloquentornot #solving counting sheep talk #a bee fic #SURPRISE. this is now the 'i write about three' ask game.#because i'm in a MOOD now let's WRITE SOME MORE OF MY CREATURE I MISSED IT......#anyway this is WILDLY different than you prompted me towards but I have Thoughts about how three and etho would meet #solving counting sheep spoilers #because THIS ONE relies VERY HEAVILY on certain characterization choices from the latter half of scs.#anyway note that three is still not NEARLY as self-assured as in the fake dating one!#this is three GENUINELY nervous and usure what's happening in a situation #whereas the fake dating one is a little more 'three is not bothering with social graces at least in part to fuck with martyn'#and i hope that comes through #anyway. SCS HUH.

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hotpinkboots · 7 months

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Oh. My. God. Hi there!!! I’ve been desperately trying to find others who still love WWDITS and write for them so when I came across your post I almost screamed. Can I get Yandere Nadja x Female!Familiar?

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~Yandere!𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆 x Fem!Familiar!Reader Headcanons~

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OH. OH HONEY. I had to throw my phone on the couch when I saw this request so I could squeal and wave my hands around. Had me giggling and kicking my feet irl, babes SOMEONE COME SPAM MY INBOX WITH NADJA REQUESTS I'LL KISS YOU

Summary: You're Nadja's stupid little baby. Do I need to explain further

Note(s): I do not watch What We Do In The Shadows episode for episode, I usually skip around. Due to this, some events in the show or the way I portray the characters may be a bit mixed up or off.

Warning(s): Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, gaslighting, guilt tripping, manipulation, objectifying the reader, violence, blood, a little bit of (but not much) sexual content, ect.

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆

★★★★

~Nadja has a LOT of big feelings, and she WILL make them known, no matter what the situation is.

~It may not be obvious what she's feeling, but when she's feeling something then everyone is going to feel it, too.

~If she's angry, you had better NOT be caught in the line of fire. If she's sad, she's going to either whine and sulk for attention, or she'll lash out. Emotions vary. She could seem one way when she's really only acting like that because on the inside she's feeling another way.

~So, she's a very hard person to read despite the fact that she speaks her mind without having much of a filter.

~The same goes for how she treats you.

~Her stupid familiar who just follows along with whatever is happening. Her useless human pet who has the HONOR to even be in her presence and clean up after her.

~Treats you like you're her stupid dog.

~She'll degrade you one day, and be giggly with you the next.

~Oh, but don't get too friendly with her, or she'll be annoyed by you. But, make sure you interact just enough, because if you don't, she'll get after you and try to make you entertain her. Ah, yes, but don't try TOO hard to make her happy, either, because you'll get on her nerves.

~The point is that you feel like you're walking on eggshells 24/7.

~She can't decide if she wants you to wear something gorgeous and grand to have you match with her, or if she wants to have you wear ugly baggy clothing so you don't look seem as gorgeous as she does.

~Then she thinks that it'll make HER look bad if you're not dressed up, so she's going to make you wear all the stuff she does so you don't look like you just recently escaped from the sewers after swimming in shit and piss.

~Of course, she might scold you and smack you with the hair brush if you tell her something she's doing with your hair is hurting your scalp.

~But then Nadja saw you smiling in the mirror when she was finished. You looked so gorgeous. So excited to be dressed up like that.

~Suddenly, she wished she could see herself in the mirror beside you.

~Laszlo will join in, too, so all three of you match.

~If you ever have a fight with her, her reactions come in phases.

~First, she'll snap at you and call you names and demand you get out. It's unclear if she means get out of the room, or out of the house, but the point is that she does NOT want to see you after an argument.

~Second, she'll rant and be absolutely furious for awhile.

~Third, she gets upset at herself because she made her own familiar upset. She denies being upset at herself by being a bitch to everybody and claiming they did something wrong, even if they were just standing there.

~Nandor probably got yelled at for just existing or something idk

~Colin Robinson feeds off of all this drama of course.

~Fourth, Nadja decides it's your fault for whatever happened, and she'll cry and run away or something just to get your attention. Will sulk until you're the one to apologize.

~And lastly, once you apologize, she realizes the apology sounds wrong coming from YOUR lips instead of hers, since she was probably the one being a drama queen and making a big deal out of nothing.

~Does not know how the hell to apologize very well but she'll kind of try.

~Nadja will start giving you more cute (sometimes weird) nicknames after that.

~Once she REALLY gets attached and decides she likes you, she'll be silly with you and gossip. She DEMANDS a girl night.

~You're like her pet, now, and will literally go as far as petting your head.

~Does she ever think about putting you in a collar that makes your throat look extra delicious, with a leash attached so she can tug you along and coo at you?

~Absolutely.

~She will beat the absolute shit out of anybody who looks at you the wrong way.

~More than willing to rip open someone's ribs so she can tear out their heart and stomp on it.

~Then she shows you and expects you to be like "wow Nadja you did that for me thank you!"

~Or if you have a terrified reaction, she'll be confused as hell. She just killed someone for you? Hello? That's the ultimate way to show someone you love them, isn't it? Literally be willing to tear people apart for them?

~But she'll baby you and give you a hug, anyway.

~"He was a big stupid asshole, my love, didn't you see the way he looked at you? He deserved to die!"

~Then she'd look back at the bloody scene and point down at the body and yell "He was a PIECE OF OLD PIG SHIT!"

~And then would go back to babying you and giving you all the reasons why the person who looked at you wrong deserved to die

~She has done something like that on multiple occasions and would never be afraid of doing it again.

~Nadja most likely wouldn't make you a vampire for an extremely long time (by that I mean she might literally not do it in time, you might be dead by the time she even decided to consider it 💀. Or, if something awful happens to you and you're on your death bed and she decides she needs you to be immortal for her.)

~She wants you to always be her cute little familiar who comes when called, not her fellow vampire who doesn't work under her anymore.

~If you ever had a one night stand, she's fine with that, and would have everybody in the house sit down so they could listen to you tell them (in detail) everything that happened. You aren't getting out of that one.

~But she would be very jealous if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, rather than just a fling.

~If you fall in love with anybody, know ahead of time that she's going to consider either murdering them, or at the very least, treating them badly.

~She would try to chase them away by somehow getting them to believe you said something about them that you actually didn't say.

~Then she'd comfort you about your "break up", pretending to be shocked about what happened, as though she didn't plan that.

~Unfortunately for her, she isn't a very good actress, and it's a bit obvious that she was the one who made that happen.

~If you then demanded to know WHY she did that to you, she'd finally admit it in a moment of anger and fear that you found out.

~"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I did that for YOU! They weren't good for you, my darling, why the FUCK don't you understand?!"

~Nadja is most definitely a dangerous yandere. She can be just as volatile and demanding as she can be doting and silly.

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Nadja is my favorite character to write as a yandere omg

Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, a lot of places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

Reblogs > Likes

#nadja #nadja of antipaxos #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nadja x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #pink's fanfic #yandere vampire #vampires x reader #vampire x reader #yandere nadja #yandere nadja x reader

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