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#This one warranted me screaming your name
roguerogerss · 5 months
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The President
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
W/C: 3.2k
Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.
(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)
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“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"
"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."
"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"
"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"
You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."
This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."
Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.
"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.
Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.
"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."
"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.
"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.
"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."
"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."
She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.
Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.
"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.
"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"
You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.
"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.
"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."
The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.
"Coriolanus Snow!"
You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.
"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"
You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.
"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”
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The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.
The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.
You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.
You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.
You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.
"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.
Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.
Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.
"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.
"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.
"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.
"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.
Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.
You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"
"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.
"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"
You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."
"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."
"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."
"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."
Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"
"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."
"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"
You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.
"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"
"And what would my reward be?"
"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"
You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."
He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"
"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."
He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.
"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"
You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."
"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.
His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.
"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."
"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."
"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"
Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.
He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"See you soon, President Snow."
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atsumutu · 2 months
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it’s your scream that wakes him up. a shrill cry that has zoro jerking upright and latching onto the hilt of his swords. 
it takes him barely a minute to get to you, calling out your name as he enters your shared room where he finds you wide eyed and backed into a corner.
“what’s wrong?”
a quick scan of the room comes up empty for intruders so he returns his attention to you, closing the distance between you two with a few steps. 
there were intruders. just not the human kind. 
“c-cockroach!” you cry, pointing towards the corner of the room where sure enough, there’s a cockroach scuttering past. 
zoro turns to you, unimpressed. it’s a tiny thing that hardly called for this level of reaction. it most definitely didn’t warrant cutting his mid afternoon nap short. 
“seriously? i thought you were dying.” sleep still clings to his voice making it more rough than usual. 
your frenzied eyes move back and forth from the cockroach to the swordsman. “please zoro, if you love me you’ll-“ a squeal cuts off your pleading when another one decides to make an appearance. with nowhere left to run, you just push yourself further into the corner, shutting your eyes. 
before your scream comes to an end, zoro’s taken care of the situation, disposing off the offending creatures before returning to you. 
“god, such a crybaby.” he grumbles, pulling you towards him. a warm palm settles on your back, rubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. “it’s gone now, okay? it’s dead.” 
you peer at zoro through your lashes. “both of them?”
“yes, both of them.”
although his words comfort you, you seek further solace in his embrace, grabbing the fabric of his t shirt and nestling into his chest as he continues running up and down your back. 
a few seconds pass before zoro pulls back, remembering something. “i thought you were going out?” he asks, recalling the lively chatter over breakfast as the straw hats made plans to explore the port town they were docked in for the next few days. 
“I decided to stay in, thought you might appreciate some company.” you grin, mood perking up now that the cockroaches were dealt with. 
zoro rolls his eyes, sassy man that he is, and you suddenly find yourself thrown over his shoulder. 
“what i would appreciate is going back to my nap.” he huffs, making his way towards your shared bed. 
giggling, you give his firm bottom a few pats. “of course, my hero deserves some rest.”
zoro tolerates it all with a smirk playing on his lips, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze. when he reaches the end of the bed, he drops you onto the mattress, chuckling mildly at the disgruntled noise you make. he makes quick work of removing his swords, resting them on their usual spot against the bedside table, before joining you. 
it’s only when you’re tucked into zoro’s side that you pipe up again, lifting yourself to rest on your elbows, feeling playful. “zoro?”
he can already tell this isn't about to be a normal conversation just from the mirth dancing on your lips but he indulges you anyways.
“hm?”
“would you kill all the cockroaches in the world for me?”
zoro snorts at your absurd question. “that’s ridiculous.” he scoffs, fixing an arm behind his head and using the other to have you lie on his chest before answering, only because he knows how this goes with you. “yes, i would.” 
he’s rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips and the melody of your laughter. its enough to fill his entire body with warmth. 
half an hour and several questions later, sleep still calls to him but his smile remains, content to humour you until your words begin to jumble into one and your breathing evens out into a familiar rhythm, convinced he could do this for an eternity with you.
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ode2rin · 4 days
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
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DC x DP fic idea: Lex Luther's youngest
Lex Luther will admit that his attempt to clone Superman had failed because he gave Superbo far too much free will. He may have lost the lab and a few scientists, but he still had the receipt in his head.
Yes, Superboy's creation was considered a miracle, but there is no such thing in science. He was sure he could recreate the experiment.
He just needed to ensure this one would have less world knowledge. Keep the weapon a weapon by providing it never thought of itself as anything else.
So he got to work. He blended his DNA with the small remaining samples he had of Superman. It was frustrating to see ninety-nine failed attempts to get the cloning right. Lex was on the last of his piece when he almost gave up, choosing to hype up everything in a last desperate attempt.
He placed it in the tube, left it to process overnight, and when he returned, there was a full teenager in the pod- now glowing green for some reason? Lex pauses, surprised beside himself, before fierce pride overcomes him.
He did it. He's completed his second clone all on his own.
Lex had only a few seconds to celebrate before the experiment jerked awake, and the bluest set of eyes he's ever seen stared back at him. It should be aware later in this stage. Then again, it shouldn't be this grown, either.
The clone screams.
Its voice slams against the glass that should have held against any full Kryptonian and shatters it. Lex throws himself behind one of the counters, feeling the waves of power wash over him.
It shakes the whole underground lab, threatening to bring down the roof over their heads, and Lex can do nothing but cover his ears and press himself against the ground.
The clone is wailing like a haunting banshee. He wasn't even aware Kryoptonian could do this.
The noise dies down. Lex glances over the counter only to find the clone on its hands and knees, gasping for breath. He reaches for the lead box in his pocket, mindful of the clone's every movement.
He'll put it back to sleep with some kryptonite, then place it back in its pod to have its mind molded into the perfect weapon. The experiment springs to his feet as his fingers close around the box. Lex pulls it out and flips open the lid as the clone's eyes lock with his.
Its eyes are green and glowing. Fascinating.
He watches as it starts to waver, tilting dangerously to the side, and smirks, knowing the rock is working. Calmly he walks over; the clone raises its hands in two tight fists, a frown on its face. "None of that now."
He presses the kryptonite against its chin to teach it a lesson. Pian will be the best teacher, and it will learn to obey every command of Lex or face severe consequences. The clone looks down, gaps, and then bites the kryptonite. Cleanly enjoying the flavor as it chews and hums, eyes closing in blessed like Lex had just fed him the highest quality chocolates.
Lex's soft "What the fuck" was very warranted.
"Thanks for the food, Mister." The clone chirps after going for another bite. It smacks its lips, then in a bizarre turn of events, it holds out its hand for a shake. "I'm Danny, by the way. What's your name?"
Lex kept staring at it before slowly taking the offered hand and pumping it up and down. He's not sure if this is real anymore. Maybe he was still asleep?
"This is the part where you tell me your name." The clone says after a while of handshaking. It shifts on its feet clearly with far too much personality, but not one Lex created. Not even one that was influenced. It was literally made last night.
"You know what. This sort of feels like a FruitLoop-level situation, so I will go. Have fun with whatever this is." The clone says, gesturing to the area around them while stepping backward. Lex opens his mouth to tell it there is no escape when it goes through the wall.
Density shifting!? But that was a power of Martian Manhunter, and Lex knows he had not even gotten close to that DNA yet.
He quickly grabs his tablet, clicking on the security cameras of his home, watching the clone fly through all his walls- flying as simple as walking, but not like Superboy, who picked himself up with telekinesis, or Superman, who pushed against gravity but flying as if though he was swimming with the airflow.
The young clone found the last wall and flew out of his home, far above his property, disappearing into the sunset with a black and green blur in his wake.
Lex leans back, putting down the tablet now that he cannot watch the clone and its obvious awareness of its surroundings. How had it learned all of that?
The mystery didn't get in the way of the most important fact: His youngest seemed to be very talented.
Maybe he would treat it like a person if only to keep him here to study. He had to get to Danny- before the rest of the Justice League could and bring the boy into his fold as the perfect heir that Kon refused to be.
How hard could it be to get Danny on his side?
(Danny punched his way into a new dimension after escaping from the burning remains of Amity Park. His parents, sister, and friends fell in battle trying to keep humans and ghosts safe after the GIW started a war with the zone.
After losing his hometown, he led the spirits to victory once the GIW labeled all citizens as too contaminated and ripped away their rights. His town's survivors were at his side, fighting for the ones they lost.
Once they beat the GIW, the government was informed of the small civil war and disbanded the department. It was a hollow victory- their apologies and promises to rebuild would never bring back the ones he lost.
In his grief- and fear of becoming Dan- he went to Clockwork, who only shook his head and told him time was flowing correctly. He then went to FrostBite, who, after listening to the broken King, offered him a home among his people. Danny lived with the Far Frozeen for three years when he was offered a position on the exploration team that would map out the Ghost Zone.
Only the elites of the elites were allowed among them. He accepted. He was given a watch, a magical journal to record what he saw, and feast as a far well.
He then flew through the first uncharted portal, punching the barrier between worlds and bursting into a new universe where he would record and report back to the Far Frozen after five years of living among the natives.
Turns out, flinging himself at the barrier of reality took a lot of power, so when he got to the other side, he promptly passed out. He found himself inside a large tube, contaminating the water with his ectoplasm, and when he woke, it was to a bold man standing outside his box with greed in his eyes.
Danny used the ghostly wail out of instinct. Which may have been overkill since the man offered him frozen ectoplasm after almost passing out again for using what little he had acquired during his nap.
Maybe one day he'll see him again and say thanks. For now, Danny had a new world to explore. )
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satoruin · 1 year
Text
➣ a new year’s kiss
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pairing: ayato, albedo, alhaitham, aether x gn!reader
summary: the countdown begins and you unexpectedly have someone asking to be your new years kiss
notes from lee: this one goes out to all my introverts and people that don’t like parties. i don’t either but there’s no new years kiss waiting for anyone sitting in bed at midnight yk + idk what even transpired while i was writing this and idk if it’s ooc since it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so enjoy? AND wishing for all of you to have an amazing new year! i’m super thankful for all of y’all to be supporting me on this blog and yeah! love you guys immensely 🫶
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it’s not normal for you to be at a party new year’s eve but your friend has insisted. saying “new year, new you!” and promptly whisking you away to some party.
you know nobody and the whole party seems to drag on for far too long. the countdown is closing in on zero and most hold their partners close in anticipation for the new year’s kiss tradition.
you know that there probably wasn’t anyone here that would ask to kiss you and you’re much too shy to ask someone yourself. but unknown to you, there’s someone making their way across the room right now, determined to ask you for a kiss.
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ayato:
you stick to the wall with a cup in hand as the countdown starts. you expect nothing because that’s how it’s been every other year, but unexpectedly there’s someone cupping your cheek
“do you mind?” he asks and you shake your head no and as the tv and people scream happy new year, the stranger places his lips on yours
it’s a short peck but you enjoy it nonetheless. you look up at the man who had just kissed you to find it’s kamisato ayato
he’s extremely gorgeous and the frequent topic of discussion amongst your friends for his looks and money
you think you’ve maybe had a class or two with him but nothing to ever warrant getting to know him
“thank you for making my new year memorable…” he trails off as a way to ask for your name
“on contrary i should be saying thank you. i’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you or should i say kiss you?” you laugh at your own joke awkwardly and you’re ready for him to leave and go back to his friends at this point
however, he continues to talk to you, “you know, there’s a common saying about sharing a kiss on new years. it’s something along the lines of having a good relationship with the person you kiss.”
he pauses to take note of your reaction before continuing “so i believe that means we will have a good relationship ahead of us, that is if you will go out with me?”
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albedo:
you’ve been sitting out on the patio waiting for your friend to be finished because archons knows you were done the moment you got here
parties are not for you. they are overwhelming and teeming with people you don’t know and awkward social situations. you wish you had stayed at home and celebrated by yourself, if at all
it’s cold outside and unfortunately you left your coat inside but it’s too much work to go in and come back out. so you sit with your knees tucked into your chest and wait
that is until someone drapes a coat around your shoulders. “you looked cold. sorry if i’m overstepping your boundaries.”
you turn to say thank you, but the words don’t seem to come out as you can only focus on how pretty the boy in front of you is
“it seems like parties aren’t your thing either. i’m albedo by the way. i’m not fond of making friends at these kind of things but…” he trails off unsure of how to finish his thoughts
“no, no i get it! you never know what types of people attend these things.” you laugh awkwardly before sticking out a hand for him to shake and introducing yourself, “i’m (y/n). and thanks for the jacket but i would feel terrible if you were cold too.”
you shrug off the jacket and fold it over your arm for him to take but he just smiles and pushes it back your way. “i don’t get too cold actually. i just take it so my friends don’t worry and to offer to pretty people.”
you laugh in disbelief but don’t say anything. you put the coat on again, thankful that it is providing some warmth
you look inside as you hear people start to countdown and steal a glance towards albedo
you would ask him the question but you’ve just met him and you know you’re not bold enough to ask even if he had been flirting with you just a moment ago
luckily you don’t have to do anything. albedo reaches out to find your hand, “may i have the honor of being your new year’s kiss?”
normally you would say no, he’s a stranger after all, but even being at a part was not normal for you, so you nod
he leans down to where you sit and puts his face close to yours waiting until the countdown reaches zero. and when it does, his warm lips meet yours and you can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses you
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alhaitham:
you’re in the kitchen when he approaches you. he looks over at something before saying anything and you’re almost tempted to just leave
“hi. i’ll get straight to the point. i made a bet with my annoying roommate that involves kissing you at midnight. i’m getting $500, a night of peace, and a bottle of wine. if you agree, you get half. if not no worries, i’ll find another way to kick him out.”
you almost want to laugh at the comical situation you’re in. there’s no way this is real, a good looking guy offering to pay to kiss you? “is he that bad? and i don’t know you, what makes you think i would agree?”
he raises his eyebrows and smirks, “i’m alhaitham. i attend the sumeru academia and am double majoring in ancient history and linguistics. i like to read and i work at the library on campus. that should be sufficient, no?”
he ends his little summary of himself and looks back once again and this time you follow his gaze. he’s looking at the tv to see how much time is left in the countdown.
you only shake your head at him, with a slight smile. what harm was there in letting an attractive guy kiss you and then pay you for it?
“i expect my pay by the end of the week.” you tell him and his eyes seem to light up if only slightly at your agreement
when the countdown reaches zero he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours. his lips are warm and pull away quicker than you would like.
you can definitely hear a mortified “NO” over the shouts of everyone else and alhaitham only laughs instead of searching for the voice
he takes out his phone and hands it to you so you can give him your number and you do the same. “$250 and a date, yeah?”
you tilt your head in confusion, a date? he said nothing about that earlier
he smirks once again and explains, “i did say half of my earnings and half a bottle of wine shouldn’t be enjoyed alone.”
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aether:
he’s knelt on the floor when you almost step on him, either knocked down or looking for something, but you try not to question it
“oh my archons, i’m so sorry! i didn’t notice you, um is there anything i can help you with.” you extend a hand out for him to grab and help pull him up and he takes it
“sorry, i’m looking for my sister. i didn’t notice where she went and was just a bit worried about her.” he reaches his hand back to scratch at the back of his head.
he introduces himself and then describes what she looks like and as you turn to help him look he grabs your wrist and turns you back around
“i’m sorry, that was a lie. she’s standing with the rest of my friends who told me i need to come over here and talk to you. they’re sick of listening to me talk about how pretty you are.” he sighs and is flushed red at the confession and moves his gaze to the floor
your eyes widen and you don’t even know what to say. “seriously? good thing i think you’re pretty cute too.” you smile and he picks up his head
he looks anywhere but you and is still flushed. “would you mind if i kissed you at midnight then?”
you just shake your head at the shy boy, but you still agree. when the countdown reaches zero his kisses you and you can hear his friends chant his name and cheering him on
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box-milk · 17 days
Text
Everyone loves an outlaw
Pairings ~ serial killer ! Nat x reader
Genre~ smut
Warnings ⚠️: dark themes, murder, nat has a penis, oral (both receiving), penetrative sex, slight degrading, bad writing of course, and Google translated Russian.
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You groan quietly as a headache rang in all corners of your head, trying to reach to caress your booming skull is when you take note that you were unable to move your arms as they were bond to the arms of a wooden chair.
The panic set in, and frantically, your head moved to take in your surroundings. It was unfamiliar only lit by a dim lamp sitting on a crooked table in a corner. Squinting you tried to find anything that would indicate where you were, but all your efforts are in vain as the dim light only helped your vision so far.
You settled for closing your eyes and focus on your hearing trying to detect anything, motion or a voice but that turned out to be fruitless as all you could hear was the beating of your own racing heart.
Eventually, you're not sure how long, but you could finally hear something other than the rhythm of your own heart, a light tapping of metal against metal. it isn't consistent, almost teasing until it comes to a complete stop, making you almost whine in retaliation.
You shiver slightly as the eerie silence returns, begging to whatever higher power to break the silence again as it was truly deafening. Seemly answered, when you hear the crunching of a leather glove clad hand gripping your shoulder.
"Don't make a sound. You don't want to disturb the peace, do you krolik?".
Any attempts to turn your head were intercepted by the hand on your shoulder, keeping your head facing the dim light by grabbing onto your neck with a pointer finger resting on your jaw line. Firm but gentle.All you could place was that your captore was female and her voice was accented and quite heavenly.
"Why am I here?"
The voice hums before you can feel the breath of your captore brushing against your neck. "You, my little lamb, were somewhere you shouldn't be." You're ashamed at the rush her voice sends through your body, then you allowed the confusion to wash over you.
"Wrong place?"
"Didn't mommy ever tell you to be careful walking in the nights all alone?". It's rhetorical, but you're immediately transported to the night you had just gotten off your night shift as a nurse and decided you wanted to walk home. However, nothing in your memory could warrant your current locality.
"You seem confused,so let me clear the air." The voice says before you're face to face with a red head with striking green eyes and a realization washes over you. You've seen this face the very night you were walking home, but the only difference was the sociopathic look on her face as she repeatedly stabbed a defenceless man as he pleaded for mercy. Her eyes had met yours that were filled with shock and the chilling grin on her face widened as she stocked towards you.
You immediately ran when she was two steps in and unconsciously erased the memory from your mind. The mystery woman smirks when she notices you pale with realization.
"Now I don't take kindly to people seeing my face lamb, hence why there's no one is alive to remember it." The sinister smile on her face sends a rush down to your core, leaving you embarrassingly wet.
"Are you going to kill me?".
The mysterious red head stood behind you again, resting both her hands on your shoulder, a knife nesting between her right palm and your skin as she brought her lips to your ear again.
"I'll tell you what sweets, that was the plan, but it'd be such a waste of such a beauty, so what I'm gonna do is tell you my name."
Your eyes make one now as she should in front of you bent by the torso grip on your shoulder still prominent. "So you'll know what to say when I have you screaming."
You shiver but disheartened when it's not in fear but at rush of her taking you right then and there. Your thighs unconsciously clutched when the whisper of her name in your ear before she takes an earlobe between her teeth before releasing and standing straight.
Your captore freed your arms and legs, half expecting you to run, but is pleasantly surprised when you stayed sat and looking at her expectantly.
"You're not gonna run?".
"You'd catch me."
"Smart girl, but you're not even gonna try?"
"Why waste the energy?"
The red head is astound at the look of pure desire behind your eyes, a contrast to the usual fear when her other victims cast their eyes on her. It's almost refreshing, causing an uncomfortable tightness in her jeans.
Relieving the pressure by unbuttoning her jeans and dropping her zipper, you have a clear view of her extra appendage clad in black boxers and lick your lips greedily. Your captore amused.
"With everything that you know now yet all you can focus on is my cock. Fucking whore. Since you're so interested, let's see how you take it."
You're pleasantly surprised by her size when her pants and underwear pool at her ankles but take it gracefully when the woman slams into the back of your throat.
Surprised for the third time that night at your lack of gag reflex natasha as you know her now fucked your mouth roughly fingers intertwining behind your head for leverage.
Natasha watches as you salivated on her dick with each thrust, unaffected by it, hitting the back of your throat combined with the almost puppy like eyes you're giving her almost make her combust.
Using the grip on your head, she still her movements before pulling out cause a groan to slip past your lips.
"Be quiet. I want to be comfortable." The woman said before sitting where you were once bound dragging you slightly in between her legs where her cock glistening in your spit stood proud.
"Well, you want it so bad. Take it."
You take her in your mouth again deep in your throat before swallowing around her tip, eliciting at deep groan and a slight arch from the woman. The combo of your warm mouth and addition of your hand moving up and down her shaft has her coming undone with you swallowing every last drop.
Natasha watched in admiration as you released her dick from your mouth, a string of saliva keeping you both connected, and you kneel patiently with innocent eyes waiting on her next command.
In the blink of an eye, you're back in the chair,thighs thrown over the wooden arms with your bottom half exposed, and without a word, the red head mouth is where you need her most.
Natasha allowed herself to take gentle licks between your folds, savouring the taste of your essence before she felt it was a bit too sentimental, resorting to harshly sucking on your clit cause your hips to buck at the sudden change of pace.
The older woman used one arm to keep you still at the waist as she continued to eat you out hungrily her body sat on one knee while her other foot was planted firmly on the ground as she continued her admistrations.
The room is filled with your pornographic moans when two lengthy fingers enter your hole pumping into you deliciously, an expert tongue works on your clit. You pull on the red head's hair while moving your hips in circular motions, and it's not too long until you're riding out you high on her fingers with your lips molded together in a sweet kiss.
"I think you'll need to be more comfortable for the next part, kotenok." Natasha gave you no time to reply before taking your sweaty body for the dark room into one with a bed sitting in the middle of the room covered with blood red slip sheets.
Natasha wasted no time dropping your body on the bed, pulling your lower half to the edge, bringing your legs to wrap around her waist. Rubbing her cock through your folds to lubricate it before pushing into you. Her thrusts are long and rough. Pulling out of you almost completely before ramming back into you.
Natasha took time to appreciate the bludge in your stomach every time her cock entered you even stopping for a moment to trace to out line with her finger.
You, on the other hand, were suffering at the agonising pace and wanted nothing more for her to go faster, which natasha completely ignored when you were brave enough to plead with her.
"You take what I give you, kotenok. Be satisfied, or you get nothing at all.
That was enough to shut up and take what natasha saw fit. Before you know it, you're on all fours mewling as the older woman pounds into you. The headboard slammed into the wall at the strength of her thrusts.
Natasha brings an arm to slap your ass that recoiled when it makes contact with her thighs. The stinging sensation makes your back arch further and ypu became a panting pathetic mess when the new position has the older woman's cock hitting that velvety spot repeatedly.
Natasha made slow and soft strokes hitting that soft spot so sweetly you're ready to tumble over the edge but with a strict demand to hold it has you biting the pillow and clutching the sheets to obey the command.
When the thrust starts to get sloppy, you know she's not too far behind, and after a few more hard thrusts, your toes curl as the both of you release at the same time,natasha making sure to prevent any drop of her seed from escaping you as she helped you ride out your high before your body collapsed on the mattress.
"I hope you know you're never leaving after that"
"It's a good thing I didn't want to."
Natasha chuckled lightly before laying to spoon you, dick still sitting nicely in you. The movement brought an involuntary moan from your lips, and the woman behind you shushed you gently while rubbing the prominent bludge on your tummy.
"Where's your moral compass?" The older woman chuckled in your ear.
"I guess it lost all form of direction."
°•°•°•°•°
An:
This has been rotting in my drafts for ages.
But I hope it's somewhat enjoyable.
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apute11as · 5 months
Text
Jealousy is a disease - Alexia putellas x reader (smut)
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Summary: Alexia getting jealous of you and other people, so showing you who you really belong to!
⚠️Warnings: sub/dom dynamic, kinda abuse (but it’s basically consensual if that makes sense as in it’s not intended for harm and is kinda agreed) heavy description of smut, strap-ons, slapping/spanking, swearing etc etc
(Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes)
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Music was blaring, the heat of the room encased you and the buzz that alcohol brought was ever present. Even Alexia was drinking tonight. Barcelona had just won the champions league for the second time and with the season at its end, Alexia finally entered her 2 weeks a year of letting loose and for those who knew her well, they’d realise that this was almost as rare as gold.
Alexia was slouched lazily on the couch next to Lucy and Aitana, the three of them laughing drunkly at a joke Lucy had just made. On the other hand, you were amongst a crowd of sweaty bodies on the dance floor with Mapi, Ingrid and Ona, drunkenly dancing to whatever song came on.
As a slightly slower song came on (as a pose to the rave music previously) Ona grabbed you hands and pulled you closer to her, her hands clasped together, settling lightly above your ass, out of the corner do your eyes you could see that Mapi and Ingrid had done the same. You were so intoxicated and lost in the moment that you didn’t see Alexia staring daggers at the two of you. Obliviously, you continued to dance carelessly with your friend wrapping your own arms around her neck and tipping your head back with a smile. Anger seethed from Alexia as she watched from her booth. Lucy noticed this change in her demeanour
“What’s wrong capitana you look ready to kill” chuckled Lucy.
“What’s wrong is that Ona is getting all handsy with my girlfriend” alexia snapped in response.
Following her her captain’s eye-line, Lucy was met with the site of the younger defender’s arms wrapped around you with her head resting on your neck, the two of you drunkenly swaying and almost knocking into everything. “Oh wow” said Lucy.
“Don’t worry Capi I’m sure she has room in her heart for both of you” teased Claudia, which warranted her a smack on the head from Alexia. “Ouch not cool Ale” she sulked.
Alexia continued to stare at the two of you, anger practically steaming off her, she didn’t think she could get anymore angry, but when Ona’s hands slipped a little too far down and Alexia didn’t see her make any attempt to move them from their position on the curve of your ass, she snapped. The alcohol that coursed through her veins, causing her to lose her senses. She bounded over furiously and when she reached the two of you she pulled you apart, gripping your wrist harshly and pulling you into her.
“Hola capi” a drunk Ona slurred with a smirk. To which Alexia scowled at.
“Ouch Alexia you’re hurting me” you pleaded.
“Oh I’m gonna do a lot more than that when we get home” she seethed.
“What why?” you asked, a mixture of confusion and fear overtaking your features.
“Yeah what the hell Ale?” Ona chimed in.
“You don’t get to say anything, rubbing your hands all over my girl” your girlfriend blazed.
“What… what are you talking about?” Ona asked with genuine confusion.
“Don’t play dumb batlle, savour the memory of feeling her up because it’s all you’re gonna get, you can go home tonight knowing I’ll be bending her over the countertop and fucking her until she can’t breathe. She’ll be screaming my name tonight not yours!” Alexia practically roared, her dominant side coming to light, a side you normally loved but you’d admit that right now you were slightly scared.
At that, she pulled you away, leaving behind a stunned and now magically, completely sober Ona batlle stood on the dance floor.
Her death grip never left your wrist as she practically dragged you out of the club. When you reached her car, she finally released her grip on your wrist and even in the dim light of the car, you could see the red marks that would likely turn to bruises. You didn’t dare speak a word the entire journey back to her apartment as you felt her nails digging into your bare thighs.
When we arrived she removed her hand off your thigh and stepped out the car. You went to open the door on your own side but to your surprise, she had put the child locks on the car door. Another show of dominance, you were really in for it tonight. As she approached the other side of the car, she unlocked the door and opened it for you. Expecting her to offer a hand to help you, you waited a second but as she huffed in frustration, you realised it wasn’t coming, so you clambered awkwardly out the car, receiving a light tap on your ass as you did so.
Approaching the door, you felt Alexia brush past you harshly and jangle the keys around before the door opened into your hall way. She regained her harsh grip on your wrists as she pulled you inside with so much force, that you tripped and fell face first into a heap on the floor. Alexia watched over you with a mocking expression, your knees burnt from the heavy contact with the floor. Again, you’d expected a hand to offer you help into your feet, as Alexia was normally one to treat you like a princess, practically kissing the ground you walked in but no not today. As you began to regain balance, she kicked you back down with her toned leg and another shot of pain went through your body. A look of betrayal grazed your features as she simply smirked at the current power imbalance.
Eventually you finally made it back up again and there she was again dragging you by the wrist, all the way to your shared bedroom. Upon reaching the door she opened it for you and ushered you in, a confusing contrast from her earlier behaviour. Silence lingered in the air as you stood and watched her close the door, unsure of what to do with yourself.
“get on your knees” came her low, husky voice.
Of course you obeyed, Alexia had that kind of hold on you.
“Strip down” she ordered with the mouth watering Castilian twinge to her English.
And again, you obeyed, ridding yourself of your little black dress, a dress that left little to the imagination, a fact that Alexia made you well aware of when she started an argument, suggesting you change it before you’d gone out. None of that mattered now as you peeled the tight fabric off of you olive skin. As you did so, Alexia busied herself in the corner of your room, paying no attention to you as you undressed yourself slowly in the pale moonlight. You watched as she returned and as she did, you noticed the new found bulge in her trousers, realising she had put on one of your straps whilst you were undressing. You were knelt on the floor with her tall, athletic form towering above you.
“you look so pretty on your knees for me” she grumbled, the praise causing a whine to fall from your lips. “It’s a shame you’ve been so naughty”
With that, he hand fell to your face and produced a hard slap on your left cheek, it reddened hastily at her touch.
“Get up” she demanded.
Again, you did as you were told. Though not quick enough it seemed as she gripped your hair and pulled harshly, causing you to rise quickly to your feet.
“When I said strip princesa I meant all of it” she said with a tone of annoyance. Her hand found a rest on your hips but that lasted mere seconds before she was harshly ripping the expensive black lace from your body. Before you’d had time time to process it, your bra was following promptly, Alexia’s display of strength adding to the already dripping arousal between your thighs. This didn’t go unnoticed by your partner who swiped her middle finger lightly between your legs.
“So wet” she groaned “all for me bebita?”
“Sí reina I need you” you replied panting at the contact.
“Hmm you didn’t seem to need me on the dance floor when you were grinding yourself all over Ona like the little whore you are” she countered.
“I’m so sorry amor it didn’t mean anything I’ll be good I promise te amo” you urged
“good girls don’t dance like sluts on their teammates right in front of their girlfriend, I think you’ve been a naughty girl and naughty girls need to be punished hmm bebita?” she husked
“Yes my love I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinking I only want you, I’m yours, please I’m yours!” You urged
“Oh I know you are” she chuckled sinisterly “these are mine” she grabbed your exposed breasts “these are mine” she kissed your plump lips “this is mine” she squeezed your ass “and this is mine to do whatever I please with” she cupped your dripping pussy, making you let out a quiet moan into her neck. With that, she shoved you backwards so that you back hit the bed with a thud and she lingered over the top of you, a smirk making its way onto her lips.
“please Ale” you begged
“aww so needy for me, such a perfect little slut all wet for me, ready for my cock. Spread your legs for me puta.” she demanded
You obliged, opening your legs wide for her, allowing her a full view to your soaking cunt.
“So beautiful” she said placing a kiss to your sex, causing you to moan, a mistake that lead to a harsh slap on your bare thigh.
Much to your dissatisfaction she pulled her head away from your opening, your pussy aching at the lack of contact, desperately seeking relief. She began unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her sport bra covered chest, before quickly moving on to pull down her slacks, revealing to you the bulging, flesh coloured strap on. Your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation.
“turn around” she demanded. “If you’re gonna act like a slutty bitch, I’m going to fuck you like one”
obeying her once again, you did as you were told. Feeling two strong arms clutch your waist and turn you further, you realised she was moving you to face the mirror next to your bed, so that you could see as she likely pounded you into the bed like an animal. Alexia smirked at this new found position and the access it gave her to your ass, taking advantage of this, she landed a harsh smack to your right ass cheek, her eyes darkening as it jiggled. She repeated the action on the left side, eliciting the same reaction from the older girl as she felt pride in the reddening mark which would like cause bruising on your behind.
“you’re so wet I don’t even have to finger you first, I bet you could take all of it straight away” she chanted, aligning the strap with your dripping cunt. Without much warning, she pushed her hips forward and filled your waiting cunt with her large cock.
“look at that princesa your little cunt is all stretched out just for me, who does it belong to?” she questioned, holding the strap still within you as your groaned at the lack of movement.
“you capi, only you, please fuck me, I need your cock so bad” you whined.
“as you wish bebita” she replied, thrusting back out of you, giving you no time to adjust before she set a furious pace, the sound of your wet skin slapping together harshly, filled the room.
Gripping onto the bed sheets, you arch your back further, allowing Alexia to thrust further into your core but in turn, restricting your view of the activities slightly. Alexia quickly realised this and proceeded to grip your hair tightly and pull you back so your back met her chest, her violent thrusting never slowing. She was an athlete after all and as always she would keep going even when your energy was long diminished, the thought made a fresh wave of arousal run through your body.
“good girl. You’re taking me so well cariño, your little pussy, so open for me, letting me take what I want like a slut” she moaned.
“All for you Ale I’m all yours, u- use me” you struggled between moans as she massaged your breast and thrust up into you simultaneously. Her lips quickly found your neck as she flipped you around on her cock and shoved you down so that she was back towering above your quivering form. She sucked and but on a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting all sorts of strangled, vulgar cries from your mouth.
“No marks Ale we have… we have media t-tomorrow” you struggled to get the words out.
“Oh well that’s just part of your punishment amor. All the team can see what a needy slut you are for me” she groaned, her hands that were previously on your breast found their way on to your clit, swirling it furiously to match the harsh thrusts in your pussy.
Your stomach contorted at the thought as you felt that all to familiar feeling pooling in your lower stomach, feeling your orgasm build up as Alexia’s strap hit your g-spot continuously.
“I’m so close capi, please let me cum” you breathed.
“Beg for it puta” she ordered
“please baby, please let me cum for you I’ve been so good let me cum all over your cock” you begged, unsure how much longer you could hold on.
“cum for me princesa”
And with that the coil in your stomach snapped and an intense wave of orgasm overtook your body as your squirted your juices over your girlfriends abs. Her thrusts began to slow as you whined at the overstimulation. Finally, she pulled her cock out of your abused cunt, with a loud pop as she left your body.
“so good for me, my girl, only my girl” she said placing a gentle kiss to your sweat soaked forehead.
“only your girl Ale lo siento for making you think anything else” you apologised
“you will be” she chuckled, picking something up from one of your draws.
“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s in your hands bebita?” you questioned, concerned.
“just that you won’t be having any concealer to cover up those pretty marks on your neck for media training tomorrow” she smirked
“But amor I took my punishment so well” you pleaded.
“aww you did cariño but your punishment is only just starting” she replied and with that she crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her nude body around yours into a cuddle as your drifted off into a not so comforting sleep as you pondered on the inevitable, merciless teasing you’d revive from your teammates tomorrow…
Sorry if this was bad it’s my first attempt at smut… it was much more difficult to write than other fics I’ll give it that!
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sanyu-thewitch05 · 22 days
Text
Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader
Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕
TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror
PT.2
Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.
He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.
"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.
"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.
As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~
When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.
"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.
"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.
The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.
"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.
His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?
"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."
"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."
"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.
"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."
Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.
"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒��� ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.
"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.
His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.
"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.
You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.
"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"
"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.
"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."
Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.
"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.
"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.
"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.
Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.
"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.
You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.
"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.
Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.
"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.
His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.
"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.
"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.
"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.
Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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if ur taking requests then how about female reader being a bau member and is receiving unwanted attention from the local cops but she cant pick up on social cues very well so it’s extra stressful for her to naviagte
Then enter protective and somewhat jealous jj that tries to protect her and shows her what true love and respect is with soft softdom!jj
I really like this, but I like the idea of it more as a short then a full fic, so... here we go.
JJ Being Protective of You - (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader)
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Warnings: some harassing behaviour from a random male cop towards the reader; the man uses condescending pet names toward the reader; JJ goes full boss mode; use of the term L/N (as in 'Last Name') to refer to the reader; she reader uses she/her pronouns; the reader experiences a small accidental injury; pre-established relationship. Idk what else. Not proofread.
Paperwork. This is where you thrived. Much like Spencer, you loved a good paper trail.
You were currently in the back room of the police station, going through their old case files, looking at every case from the last forty years that had yet to be digitised. You were looking for previous murders that matched the signature of the killer the team was currently after, since the working theory was that the UnSub had 'taken on' the work of his father or another older figure in his life.
So you had to dig through all the files of unsolved murders and see if you could find a pattern stemming back - to see if you could find more killings that this father might have committed.
It was stuffy and dusty in the file room, but you were finding it to be the kind of work that you did best - your brain churning on all cylinders as you looked through the many files for all the markers in the killings that would have aligned with his killer. You put some files aside and closed the lid on a box, and then moved to a new stack, going to take down a box from 1973 - it was rather heavy and awkward to lift, but you could manage it.
"Oh, little lady, let me help you with that,"
Suddenly, someone appeared beside you, as if out of nowhere, and a second pair of hands began tugging on the box.
"I got it." You grunted out, tugging the box back in your direction, trying to get a better grip on it.
"Trust me, doll, someone like you shouldn't be lugging this crap around on your own." The man's voice argued, becoming slightly strained - angry?
Was he frustrated because it was too heavy for him to lift? Did he feel like he had to help because you looked weak and he was frustrated because of the social obligation?
"It's fine." You assured him, tugging on it again. But - he still wouldn't let go. "I'm stronger than I look, trust me."
That was something that Emily and Derek often joked about. You had used a shovel to break a double welded chain in order to get into a basement when a child was in danger. The police had been arguing about getting a warrant and talking about how they would need heavy duty bolt cutters to get through the chain away, and you were down there in minutes - and from then on, the team all agreed not to mess with you. Especially not in an emergency.
"Sweetie, just let go of it-"
His grip slipped off the box, and it went flying in the opposite direction then, and one of the sharp corners smacked you on the head - a piercing pain went through your whole forehead and and papers came flying out of the box, spilling across the floor and fluttering everywhere.
"Oh my god, ow!" You exclaimed loudly, stepping backward, raising a hand to your forehead toward the throbbing pain. You were alarmed when you felt wetness, and you quickly drew your fingers back and saw blood.
"Oh, goodness. I'm sorry, darlin'." The man appeared in front of you, and soon, completely unprompted, he put his hands on both of your cheeks, trying to lift your head to better inspect the cut. "See, that's why you shouldn't-"
"Don't touch me!" You screamed, reaching up inside of his forearms to shove his hands off you. Your skin was crawling with a terrible, icky itch where his hands had been touching you.
He became slack-jawed with shock at this.
"There's no need to shout." He chuckled. "Calm down."
"Ugh, no!" You shouted back.
You were suddenly feeling terribly trapped in the small, stuffy, dusty room, and though you knew that the papers needed to be cleaned up and you needed to finish your fishing expedition for the trail of murders - you had to leave. You needed air.
You needed JJ.
You shoved past the man and your feet carried you as fast as you could go, frantically looking for that head of blonde hair.
"Listen, babydoll, just calm down-"
"Woah, woah, her name is not babydoll."
That voice. Your hero.
You blinked past a haze if tears you hadn't even noticed was forming, and saw the pale blue shirt and blonde hair that you knew was her - you ran to stand behind her, grabbing her hand tightly, which she gripped back, grounding you, letting you know that she was right there.
"I'm not sure what kind of slack operation you people run around here, but we are professionals. You are going to refer to her by her full title, Special Agent L/N - or you won't talk to her at all. You won't even look at her. Do you understand me?" JJ barked at him.
The pure authority dripping from her voice made you feel so utterly safe.
"Listen, m'am, I'm not sure-"
"It's not 'm'am', it's Agent." JJ corrected him, now straining through her teeth, absolutely seething. "We are here representing the FBI, trying to catch a very dangerous man to help keep your town safe. We're not just little secretaries skittering around to get you your coffee and clean up after you. Just because we're women, we're not here to wipe your ass!"
You heard a chuckle from behind you, and you thought it was Emily's voice. This was followed by a low whistle - probably Derek.
"Is that clear?" JJ finished off, daring the man to talk back to her.
The man sighed and turned around to leave, finally defeated. This is when JJ turned to you.
"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice much softer now. "Oh my god, what happened to your head?"
"There was... a box..." You mumbled quietly, still feeling shaken up.
"He hit you with a box?" JJ snapped, looking back in the direction he had walked off.
"JJ, please." You begged, quietly, squeezing her hand, directing her attention back to you.
She knew what her priority was right now.
"Come on,"
JJ walked you to the bathroom, and as she was cleaning up the cut with a damp paper towel, she was still huffing hard through her nose, the anger still pumping through her.
"I'm going to find that guy's supervisor, I'm going to put in a report about him, I'm going to-"
"It's okay, JJ." You said, reaching out to run a gentle hand along her lower back. "I'm pretty sure he's not gonna come near me again after what you said."
She let out a snort of laughter, and half her mouth upturned in a smile. You both knew that she could be incredibly intimidating despite her looks, and she always protected you - just one of the many things that had attracted you to her in the first place.
"Yeah, well... nobody comes near my girl and gets away with it."
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addisonnie · 1 year
Text
hinge and uhaul
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summary: college!au. when all else fails…one must look for love on hinge!
an: hi! back from hiatus and of course it would be for a clump of pixels because i am down astronomically bad! this is the first part of a possible series! so let me know if a part 2 is warranted.
warnings: cursing, reader has 0 rizz shes literally a mess, reader also rambles and lots of this is just her inner dialogue because why not. also not very edited and possible tense shifts because im the worst!
part 2 ———————————
Tinder is a soul-sucking vortex. 
A nightmarish flurry of shirtless mirror selfies, conservatives, and men that look like they’d hit on your mom after walking you to the door. Switching your profile settings from ‘men’ to ‘everyone’ seemed like the best option; It wasn’t. The best option would’ve been to delete your account and light your phone on fire after receiving the fourth “you send?” message in a row.
Hinge is a smaller soul-sucking vortex. At least you can deny their comments before you embarrass yourself by matching with a douche like that. Your account is set to ‘show me everyone’ and you can only hope that ‘everyone’ includes at least some good ones. Swiping and clicking on dating apps seems to be more of a game than it is actual match-making, a time-passer of sorts. 
Your roommate, Dina, huffs loudly from her lofted bed across the room, “would you get your sorry ass off of that app? It’s sad listening to you moan and groan about all the losers!���
You roll your eyes, “my soulmate could be the next person!”
No. No. No, again. Oooh…yes? 
You swipe through the girl’s page before deciding not to match with her, because who’s Hinge bio states that they’re still in love with their ex? Dina cheers while you huff and slam your phone onto your desk, spinning idly in your chair. The television on top of Dina’s purple mini fridge is playing a random episode of Bob’s Burgers and, for a moment, you forget about your ever-growing dating app addiction.
It’s not that you’re addicted per say. You just spend most of your downtime sitting in your bed and judging people’s profiles, when yours surely isn’t up to par either. Hey, at least you don’t have a picture of you holding a fish.
The rhythmic buzz of your phone quickly draws your eyes away from the cartoon on screen, your hand dramatically reaching for your phone.
Hinge: Ellie liked you! Tap to see the comment she left.
Ellie. That’s a cute name…fairly normal too! Surely she didn’t leave some weirdo comment about how your hair looks like it smells good. Your fingers fumble to tap on the notification and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you click on Ellie’s like.
She left her comment under a picture of you taken at a local museum. A big cheesy grin is painted across your face and there’s skeletal remains of some random dinosaur behind you, Dina is crouched under the jaw of the creature pretending to scream while she gets eaten. Hopefully this isn’t one of those situations where Ellie asks ‘if your friend is single.’
Nope. She left a simple comment. I love dinosaurs!!!
You smile as you quickly click on Ellie’s profile to see her. There are a couple pictures of her, and good god is she hot. Flushed, you quickly match with her.
But what do you say? This is life or death. You need this woman. 
Hey!
You’re hot
Do you want to have vicious lesbian sex with me?
Okay. Jesus, you are not good at this. While you mull over the keyboard attempting to decide what to say to the ever-attractive Ellie, another message comes in.
Hey, pretty girl!
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your fingers are fumbling over the keyboard, your heart is beating, you’re planning you and Ellie’s wedding. You wonder if she likes lace or prefers the classic look?
Hey! What’s up?
Nothing really. Just playing some guitar!
Guitar? She just gets hotter. Did she also save puppies from a burning building? You wonder if she would want roses at the wedding. Hopefully not, too basic.
Ooooh guitar you say? Whatcha playing?
It’s a few moments before she responds and you’re biting the nail on your thumb awaiting her reply.
Whatever your favorite song is.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you smile and rest your head in your hand. 
Why don’t I tell you that over dinner?
It takes Ellie a few minutes to respond this time and you’re sure you’ve managed to scare her off at the mention of an actual date. Her reply comes just as you go to turn your phone off,
How about you give me your number and we can talk more about this date?
————
Giving your number to Ellie was perhaps the best decision made in your life thus far. She constantly sends text messages of whatever she’s doing, wearing, eating, or strumming on her guitar. It’s been about a week since you first exchanged information and you’re slightly worried that Ellie no longer wishes to go out on a date. You’ve tried to ‘accidentally’ bump into her on campus multiple times, but she manages to just barely slip away each time. 
You’re sitting at your desk attempting to finish an essay when your phone rings in your lap. Ellie’s contact appears lit up on the screen and you just about scream when you grasp the phone between your fingers.
“Hello?” You’re already blushing.
“Hey, you! What’re you up to?” Ellie’s voice is loud into the microphone and you can make out multiple different voices on her end of the line.
“Nothing important,” you close your computer quickly, “why, what’s up?”
She takes a moment to answer as you hear her yell something to whoever else is in the room with her, “me and some friends are at a bar…will you come? Live music and stuff. Plus, I still haven’t taken you on that date!”
“Yes!” Okay, you probably should’ve tried to sound less excited. “Ehem…yes. Text me the address?”
You hear Ellie laugh before she happily responds, “will do! Text me when you get here and I’ll come out front to meet you.”
—————
Dina and her friends surely shop at Hookers R Us because where else would anybody find a skirt so goddamn short. 
“D. Dina. My cheeks are hanging out the bottom.” Dina rolls her eyes and tugs on the hem of the mini denim skirt.
“Well if you wore it down here,” she tugs the denim again, “instead of up to your tits like a grandma would…maybe it would be longer.”
Several shirts are thrown toward your perch on Dina’s desk chair, “what’s wrong with the shirt I have on?”
Dina’s boyfriend. Jesse, interjects, “because I don’t like it.”
“Okay, fashion police. How about this one?” You hold up a form fitting black top and Dina nods vigorously, “yes. But no bra. Show off them ladies!”
————
The Uber barely comes to a full stop as you clamber out of the backseat. Grasping for your phone, you text Ellie.
Here! :)
Was the smiley face overkill? Too much?
Cominh!!!!!
*Coming. Not drunk, I swear.
You think you’re the one doing the coming as you watch Ellie stroll towards you in the parking lot. If she was hot on Hinge, she’s ten-thousand times hotter in the dingy lighting that casts a magical glow upon her. She’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a white wife-beater, an old worn out flannel is unbuttoned over the top and rolled up just above her elbows. Her raggedy jeans are cuffed to the top of her converse and— wow is she a walking wet dream.
“Hey! I’m glad you came.” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she pulls you straight in for a hug, her calloused hands resting on your hips. You feel her finger tips touching the uncovered skin below your top, the contact makes you shiver.
Ellie squeezes you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving her arm draped over your shoulder, “c’mon, warmer inside.”
You let her lead you into the bar and through the slight crowd congregated near the entrance. A small group of people stand huddled next to the bar and Ellie leads you straight to them as she leans down to speak in your ear, “those are my friends.”
You nod and shamelessly nudge your body to be tucked further into her side, blushing profusely when you feel her arm tighten around your shoulders.
“Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about! And these are my friends I mentioned on the phone.” Ellie smiles while she introduces you to everyone and as much as you enjoy the domesticity of hanging out with her friends, you much prefer the nook you’ve found nestled under Ellie’s toned arm.
———
Her face leans down by your ear again, “wanna drink? I’ll get you one.”
You smile up at her, “would you shoot me if I said I want an espresso martini instead of the beer you’ve been nursing all night?”
She giggles into your ear and her breath fans across your face, “one espresso martini, coming up!” 
She pulls away and salutes you before turning around and marching to the other end of the bar, waving her arm to grab the bartender’s attention.
“So you’re the lucky lady? I’m Abby, Ellie’s friend.” Damn, she is buff as hell. Her toned arm stretches across a barstool to shake your hand.
You stare at her open palm, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that. Who still shakes hands? I’m done drinking for the night.”
She cracks a smile when you laugh and shake her hand anyways, “nothing wrong with a good ol’ handshake.”
You speak with Abby while you wait for Ellie to return with your martini. She’s leaning up against the wood and speaking to the bartender as he pours the concoction into a glass. How she manages to look so appealing at all times is an enigma. Her short hair is pulled half-up into a bun while the rest barely skims the top of her shoulders, the botanical tattoo on her forearm sticks out from under her rolled-up sleeve and—fuck. You’re drooling.
Double-fuck. She caught you staring.
You blush when she throws a wink your way, turning back toward the bar to grab your drink. 
And then she’s in front of you once more, “malady.”
She slides in between your legs while you sit atop the cushioned barstool (which you’re pretty sure makes a fart noise any time you move) and rests both of her hands on your hips.
Lifting the drink to your mouth, you hum happily when the flavor covers your tongue, “good?”
“Really good. Superb.” Ellie chuckles and leans in toward you, placing a kiss in the hollow of your collarbone, “c’mon, there’s some more people I want you to meet.”
————
You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this position but good god do you wish you could die right here and right now. Ellie is leaning up against the poster-covered wall of the bar with you pulled tightly to her chest. Your back is pressed against her front and one of her arms is wrapped around you, long fingers splayed across your lower stomach. She’s talking animatedly to the guy standing in front of you two and in all honestly you can’t focus on what they’re talking about while you feel the tips of Ellie’s fingers rest upon the skin under your skirt. 
It’s innocent. She doesn’t realize her fingers have traveled just south of the top of your skirt, but you’d be lying if you said the feeling of her calloused fingertips below the belt didn’t make you squirm. Her auburn hair tickles the side of your face as your head rests back in the crook between her neck and shoulder. And even better—her cheek presses to the top of your head when there’s a lull in her current conversation.
Hearing the man she was speaking to bid his goodbyes, you turn in her arms. The one that was previously grasping a beer bottle quickly swaps to rest in the back pocket of your skirt instead, her other hand squeezes your hip.
“Hi.” She smiles at you.
“Hi.” You press a kiss to her cheek.
The feeling leaves Ellie warm and she squeezes you a few times before ultimately deciding to cut to the chase and lean in. It’s a sweet peck, a little tipsy kiss that leaves you buzzing and floating outside of your body. The bright, crooked smile she gives you after pulling away punches the air from your lungs and Jesus Christ— now you understand the U-Haul lesbians because in this moment you are well and truly fucked. If this woman, this stranger, asked you to pack your shit and move in, you would.
And the look she gives you as she brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear tells you she might just feel the same.
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to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader
jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!
word count: almost 2000!!!
warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.
inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?
feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!
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When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you. 
So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However  they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another. 
Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”
Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!” 
“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.
“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!” 
Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.
You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”
“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly. 
“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”
Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”
Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”
You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said. 
“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.
“I-I don’t-” 
Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage.  “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!” 
You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.
“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.
MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy. 
One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.
As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from  Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.
Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you. 
Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.
Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard. 
You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright. 
Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now? 
The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed. 
As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?” 
It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.” 
Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.
Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”
You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!” 
A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”
“Finally someone said it!”
“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”
Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.
Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it. 
Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.” 
You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.
“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.
As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”
“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.
“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.” 
Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.
“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.
“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.
Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”
Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away. 
Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.
The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.
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Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again…
It was another busy day where knights, men and women of all corners came in to rest their battle-weary feet and drink mead. There would be the occasional brawl but they were nothing when you compared it to battling a cursed wyvern with a blindfold.
You exited the back room having just refilled the pitcher of cool mead when a familiar grunt caught your attention. Just behind a rowdy table of farmers, in the corner, sat the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia - and a bard who was far too chipper while sober.
Inching a little closer, you busied yourself with empty flagons while remaining within earshot of the pair.
“Come on - it’s not a bad lyric. Ah, what do you know? You can wield a sword but not understand the complex meaning behind a beautiful string of words.” The bard said.
Geralt scoffed. “It wasn’t complex.”
An old man slid a few coins across the table for the service which you pocketed and then moved on to the next.
“We can’t stay long.” Geralt told his companion. You glanced back briefly and saw the brightly dressed man staring into his coin satchel, concerned.
“I could swear there was more silver in here. Geralt, I think I’ve been indecently swindled.”
You wanted to confirm that the man could easily have fallen prey to the notorious pick-pockets that haunt the tavern but you stayed silent, now distracted by a customer who ordered some pies.
“Don’t forget the carrots this time.” He reminded.
You wanted to tell him where to shove his carrots but heard your name being shouted from across the floor.
“Y/n, I need a word!” It was the tavern owner who enjoyed paying you less than what you were owed. With a sigh, you trudged over to him away from most prying ears. “You’ve been waiting on those tables long enough. Deliver those pies and refill goblets on the double or I’ll show you out the door.”
You had half a mind to bite back but chose to hold the words at bay. In ten minutes, the pie was ready to be collected from the kitchens. As you walked it to the table, you made the decision to confront Geralt but upon approaching his table, found that the Witcher and his bard had vanished, leaving behind some coins for the hospitality.
Geralt would have heard your name being bellowed. He would have seen you answer the call. And yet, he still left?
Typical!
The farmer who had ordered the food found his plate empty as you swerved around his chair and rushed out the wooden door. Turning left, you followed the small path down to where riders often tied their horses, your own being one of them - spotting the familiar silver hair and lute of the bard.
Words appeared to have failed and rational thoughts had abandoned your mind the second you fled.
Your hand flipped the pie out of its casing and with one, well-aimed throw, found its mark. The bard screamed and the Witcher stopped in his tracks instantly stilling for a few seconds.
Then he turned, his jaw clenched. “Did you throw a meat pie at my head?”
You tossed the empty pan over your shoulder. “You bet I did and I’ll do it again.”
The bard at Geralt’s side grabbed his guitar and hid behind the broad-shouldered man fearing that he would be next. “Oh, they’re pissed. What did you do?”
Geralt exhaled as he pulled stray bits of pastry out of his locks. “I’m not sure…”
“Not sure? You fucking ignored me in the tavern! Friends for years and it doesn’t warrant a simple ‘hello’?” You yelled.
Jaskier peered out from behind, “Oh, he’s always like that. We’ve been friends for several weeks and he pretends to hardly know me - such a jest.” He chuckled to himself quite fondly.
Ignoring the brightly coloured song man, Geralt addressed you, now free from the discarded food. He had indeed acknowledged the your presence the minute he set foot in the tavern but found himself reliving old memories instead - some good, others painful.
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that business with the striga.”
“The striga?” You repeated, remembering the event he was referring to where he had taken claim over the beasts defeat instead of giving you proper recognition. “That was over a year ago, I was bitter for perhaps a few weeks but no more. But you wouldn’t know that because you ran off with Roach.”
“I didn’t run off - I just - you were injured and I had no reason to hang around while you healed.” The Witcher explained. “In hindsight, I probably should have checked in.”
You nodded vehemently. “And since you didn’t, you’re very deserving of that meat pie.”
“The pie was mean.” Geralt frowned.
“Oh a tale of a strained but beautiful friendship filled with battles and miscommunication - you must regale me with the details.” Jaskier grinned.
You would gladly do so if your old friend would have your company once more. Raising a brow at Geralt, you posed the silent question.
“Don’t you have a job?” Geralt asked.
You squinted in return. “I abandoned my post and stole a pie. I’m surely fired.”
“Fine - but only until the next village.” The Witcher negotiated, knowing full well that his friend would likely be staying for a longer time. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up on his horse with a small grunt.
You shared a similar grin to the bard and sent a high whistle into the air to call forth your own steed for the journey ahead.
When the horse approached, you took hold of the reins and walked alongside Jaskier.
“While we’re on the topic, I’ll tell you about the time when Geralt fought an ifrit almost fully naked.” You winked and caught the eye roll on your friends face.
Jaskier pulled his guitar to the front and strummed a few strings to start a catchy tune. “Oh, I’m ready for this.”
~ More imagines here ~
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cowgurrrl · 1 year
Text
Sweet Creature
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)
Author’s note: holy shit thank you for your ideas this is my favorite. also i put it in the tags of darlin’ i’d wait for you BUT there is a beautiful easter egg in the baby’s first and middle name and the first person to tell me what it is gets a kiss on the mouth
Summary: “Helping one another is part of the religion of our sisterhood.” - Jo March, Little Women aka Ellie rescues you and Joel [1.3k]
Warnings: newborn DRAMA, post-partum anxiety if you squint, Joel being a softie for his daughters
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"C'mon, Charlie girl, you've gotta help us out." You mumble as you bounce your crying baby around the room. It's been an hour of her crying nonstop, and you've tried everything. Nursing, changing her diaper, changing her clothes, burping, changing the room's temperature, and playing music. You even went as far as to check her for any injuries that you may have missed. You're not sure what kind of trouble your one-week-old could've gotten into to warrant an injury, but you're exhausted, and it seemed to make sense. 
Joel woke up with her first, as he has done every night since you gave birth, so you had the chance to get some rest. Recovery has been rough for you, and he's already doing so much for you. He and Ellie barely let you get out of bed most days because they want to ensure you take the time to heal. Even though the thought is nice, you wake up and listen when Joel gets up with her every time. It's not that you don't trust him. It's that you're already the world's lightest sleeper, and Joel is deaf in one ear and is rarely aware of just how loud he is. You also don't mind secretly watching as he lays her on his bare chest in the low light of your room, singing to her or explaining what he's doing for her to engage her little brain. He's caught you staring at least twice since she's come home. 
But tonight was different. She woke up crying and was pretty much inconsolable until Joel brought her over to you. She nursed for a minute or two before wrenching away from you and screaming. Since then, you and Joel have been taking turns trying to get her to go back to sleep. It's hard having a newborn with two capable parents. You have no idea how you had a baby as a single mom. 
"D'you wanna try to feed her again?" Joel asks as he stands next to you, disheveled and overwhelmed but trying his best to comfort the both of you. 
"I don't know," you shake your head, your throat starting to feel like sandpaper. You were always the more emotional person in your relationship, but postpartum emotions are nothing compared to your regular ones. "I don't know what's wrong." You cry. Joel touches your back and makes a sympathetic noise as tears fall down your face.
"Let me take her for a little bit so you can sit down, okay?" He suggests as he carefully takes Charlie from you. She chuffs at the transition before going right back to screaming her head off. You sit on the edge of the bed and watch as he holds her like a football and hums what sounds like Hank Williams to her. You'd be surprised if she could even hear him over her own crying, and you take a deep breath, racking your brain for what could be wrong. 
"What are you doing to her?" Ellie asks as she walks into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She's wearing one of Joel's shirts and hand-me-down shorts from Maria, and her hair is as messy as Joel's. If you weren't still crying, you think you'd probably laugh. 
"She's just a little fussy. You can go back to bed." Joel says, but she shakes her head and walks over to where he's standing with Charlie. 
"What's going on, bug? Huh?" She asks, crouching to look at Charlie's tired, sad eyes. She may have your eye shape, but she got those heartbreaking brown eyes from Joel. When she cries like this, they look like the saddest puppy dog eyes in the world. "D'you want me to try?" Ellie asks, and Joel shoots you a look.
You've been very intentional about not putting too much pressure on Ellie to help with the baby. She's sixteen, and she shouldn't have to be burdened with that if she doesn't have to be. You told her she could help as much or as little as she wanted, but she took it upon herself to help more often than not. You just didn't want her to wake up for midnight cry sessions or feel like she had to be put in a parenting position. She's still a kid.
"It's worth a shot," Joel says, and you shrug, way too tired to argue with him. He carefully passes Charlie to Ellie, who cradles her close and pushes her hair out of her face. Joel stays nearby in case she decides to hand the baby off, but he doesn't intrude on their moment.
"Hey, it's alright. You let it all out," Ellie says as she sways. Her fingers muss Charlie's hair, and she's quieting down. Not a lot, but enough to see it as crying instead of blood-curdling screaming. "I've got you, sweet girl." Ellie's hand moves to her chest, gently scratching and rubbing little circles into Charlie's onesie, and like magic, she stops crying. She turns her little head toward Ellie and yawns big and long like we kept her up. You sigh in relief and tip your head up to the ceiling as silence fills the room. Your ears are still ringing, and your body hurts, but it's quiet. 
It would be easy to claim that Charlie calmed down because Ellie's wearing one of Joel's worn shirts or that she just finally hit a wall and fell asleep, but you like to think she was just missing her sister. Joel looks between Ellie and Charlie in disbelief, mumbling "shit" under his breath. "What can I say? She loves me." She shrugs, and you quietly laugh as she walks over to the rocking chair in the corner and curls up with Charlie. She snags the yellow blanket one of the older women in town knitted for you off the back of the chair and drapes it around them. You would think they've known each other for centuries. 
Joel is still standing in the middle of the room, his curls a mess on top of his head, as his sleep-deprived brain tries to piece together what happened. He scratches at his stubbly jaw and shakes his head as he thinks. "You don't have to stay up with her. I can put her back in the crib." Joel offers, and you watch her hold on Charlie get a little tighter.
"It's gonna take me a long time to fall asleep. You guys should get some rest. I've got her," Ellie says, a smile pulling at her lips. "Besides, I like hanging out with her." You would cry again if you had the energy, but you don't. Instead, you crawl back into bed and get comfortable. Joel looks to you for confirmation, always looking for your approval as the mother of his child before making any decisions, but you're already half-asleep again.
"If she's volunteering, I'm not gonna stop her," you mumble into your pillow. "Just don't fall asleep."
"Sir, yes, sir," Ellie says. They may have stayed up talking. You're not sure, but when you wake up, Ellie is between you and Joel in bed, and Charlie is in her crib. She's tucked under the arm Joel is using to hold your waist as he sleeps, and her hand is on his chest. He's snoring lightly as he holds you both, perfectly content to cuddle with his girls in bed. You smile and kiss each of their heads before falling asleep again.
You vaguely remember fearing how the new baby would affect Joel and Ellie's relationship and worrying if Ellie and the baby would get along. You don't know exactly why Charlie was crying last night or why she calmed down so fast once Ellie had her, and you don't need to. 
Sometimes a girl just needs her sister. 
Sometimes a father just needs to baby his sixteen-year-old a little longer.
🍓
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taglist: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts​
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dykeomania · 11 months
Text
ellie williams deserves to go to a pride parade,
a run-on-sentence-ramble it's corny liiike i'm not even writing i'm just daydreaming and giggling oh my god i love queer joy we oooouuutsssiiiiiiiiiideeeee
and to wear the ugliest fucking adam-sandler-ass-outfit that the world has literally ever seen. i'm talking like.. reebok club c's. nike socks, rolled all the way up. oakley sunglasses on her head that she stole from that one abby bitch who rows crew. jorts, with a carabiner, looped on her outermost left belt buckle (a big ass contradiction if ykwim because mind you, she's also wearing an oversized ass t-shirt that reads in the largest lettering known to man: quote, I LET FEMMES TOP ME!, end quote). she deserves to be grumpy while riley takes forever to get ready (she's like almost done, she's just doing her edges) and to vehemently protest against cat who promises that she won't draw a dick on ellie's face but that she just really really wants to put glitter on her cheeks 'cause she thinks it'll look cute. she deserves to have her eyes light up at the sight of her lover, and sit up straighter from the comfort of her manspread once she realizes that she's coming this way. deserves to reel her in by her matching carabiner (also on the left side -- someone's llyiiinnnggg), and tell her that she looks cute. deserves to grin up at her and coyly ask her if she looks stupid. deserves to have her face cupped, her nose softly nudged against, and to have a small ..mmnnn..nnyyyeah murmured against her lips. deserves to tell her lover to shut the fuck up through a snicker and to -- amidst the disgust of the audience behind y'all -- take a second to just swim in the remnants of jello shots left behind on each other's tongues -- the ones you both took earlier (at like.. 11?am?) that left hers, red, and yours, orange.
she deserves to be the first one of your group to begin walking backwards down the beginning of the parade. nevermind the seemingly infinite spawn of white gay twinks and fashion choices that are somehow.. worse! than hers -- she's facing her friends. she's giving them a look. her arm is outstretched, and her hand is holding that of her girl's who she thinks, this time, she might actually really love. she deserves to hold some $5 lemonade above her head while annoyingly shuffling her shoulders to rain on me by lady gaga, and to be clowned (mercilessly) because 1) she's catching no beat, not one and 2) i thought you didn't even wanna come, what happened? deserves to shrug her shoulders at y'all because.. well, she doesn't know. there's something about it all -- being outside, being surrounded by the energy and screams of pure happiness down the streets -- like maaaybbeee.. it warrants a change of heart. she deserves to struggle to twirl her girl over and underneath her shoulder. deserves to kiss the question clean off your cheek, and to have her chuckles blend in with your giggles while she grits the lyrics, off-key as ever and this time, directly in your ear.
she deserves to make the hike all the way to the greenery that holds drag shows, free stickers, face painting, educational pamphlets on lgbtq+ sex education, free food, outnumbered preachers, fucking larpers?!, you name it -- deserves it all. deserves to venture towards it with something cheshire on her face. with her friends by her side, and her girl against her ribcage. deserves to wonder why she is so fucking into it now. maybe she's just tipsy, or sundrunk. maybe it's the exhaust in the air, or the vibes in the streets, whatever. but honestly? maybe she's smiling so fucking hard because this is just, plain and simple, right where she's supposed to be.
:)
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alovesongtheywrote · 6 months
Note
holy crap girl… nightmare academia, i just wanna smush them into a locked room together AHHHHH
♥ Summary: oh man, you're not the only one. in this chapter of nightmare academia, morgan and garcia hijack a prank. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings: none?
♥ A/N: careful babes, the plot's getting closer
♥ Word Count: 1402
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
“BABY GIRL, YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!” Morgan exclaimed as he burst into Garcia’s Batcave.  He probably wasn’t loud enough to warrant all-caps, but he was definitely excited enough to warrant all-caps, and that’s why Garcia spun around in her chair, preemptive excitement building up inside of her.
“What is it?  Is someone dead?  Is someone pregnant?  Are you pregnant?  Am I gonna be a god-mom?  Again?”
“What?  No.  Guess who I just got off the phone with.”
“Savannah?  JJ?  Hotch?  Blake?  Reid?”
“Well, it's none of those, but you’re close enough with that last one, so I’m just gonna give it to you,” Morgan leaned in, showing Penelope his phone screen as she clapped her hands together in excitement.  Your name was the first one in the call log.
Garcia’s perfectly glossed lips popped open, “Is that-!?  Is that Spencer’s-!?”
“And are they-!?”
“They are just as perfect for him as we suspected, if not more.”
“Wh- well, why did they call, what did they want?”
“Well, first, they wanted information on the rabies case, which I thought was weird until-”
Penelope cut him off with a gasp, “He’s using horrific case facts to keep them at a distance!”
“Something like that?  Apparently, he’s using horrific case facts for quote-unquote, vengeance. The lovebirds aren't as romantic as we thought.”
"Is it a case of enemies to lovers?"
Morgan paused, raising an eyebrow, "I'm gonna need you to elaborate, baby girl."
"You know! Enemies to lovers! The romantic trope where they go from bitter enemies to the most adorable of spouses! Oh, that is right out of a rom-com!”
"Whatever you say, doll," Morgan continued, “But I'm pretty sure there aren't a lot of rom-coms that involve rabies in any capacity."
"That's because you haven't seen enough of them. Anyway, tell me more about the call! What happened next!"
"Well, initially, they told me they were a criminal justice student, but they made the mistake of using their real name.”
“What did you do!?”
“I played along with it until I asked them where they’d heard about the case- they folded fast, but I assured them that when it comes to Reid, I am the prank master.”
Garcia kept a smile on her face, even though she knew her friend was technically wrong, “I mean… technically you’re not.  He beat you with that screaming thing, on the plane.  Remember?”
“Oh yes, I remember.  I also remember that you had a lil’ something to do with that, which means, Reid cheated and I am the prank master.”
“Well, technically I am the prank mistress- but whatever, it’s all digressions, what happened next?”
“Well, I volunteered to be a part of their next prank.”
“Which is?”
“Stealing all of pretty boy’s mugs and rigging the cabinet they’re stored in to scream at him every time it opens.”
“Ah, so this is revenge for both of you.”
“Perhaps,” Morgan’s smile betrayed the truth.
“I love it.  There’s just one thing- Morgan, my lovely, do you have the technical knowledge to make that happen?”
“Well, I’ve definitely got the physical knowledge.  Cabinets are easy, the mechanical parts are all in the bag- but we do need a little assistance from you.”
“From moi?” Penelope gasped, though it sounded like she had been expecting this outcome.  Mostly because she had.
“We need a little bit of programming work that the genius won’t see coming.  So, are you in?” 
“Now that, gorgeous, sounds like a conspiracy.  I’m in.”
Garcia spun in her chair, turning back to face her monitor before immediately turning back to face Morgan, “For the record, we will be sabotaging this plan so that it backfires on both of them and makes them fall in love, oui?”
“Baby girl, would I have come to you if that wasn’t the plan?”
“You would not, and that is precisely why I love you.”
-
You did your best not to sing the Mission Impossible theme as you carried out your part of the prank.  You failed.  The theme just came out of you as you took the mugs two by two from Reid’s office and into yours.  
Once you’d stolen Reid’s horde of mugs, you set the trap in place.  You had to be incredibly careful.  Derek Morgan’s instructions had been very specific, and you followed them to the letter.  While you wouldn’t usually work with the FBI, this was a special case.  This was necessary.
And lord, was your little mechanism a beautiful one.  You gave it a quick test, closing the cabinet door before swinging it open again- once the dulcet sounds of screaming met your ears, you slammed it shut again.
You’d done so just in time.  
“Professor (L/N), I’m not sure if you’re aware, but this isn’t your office.”
“I’m not aware of anything, Reid- I mean, we’ve been over this, honey, I’m fucking stupid.  Y’know, I’m starting to worry about that eidetic memory of yours.”
“Don’t,” he stepped into the office, standing with you behind the desk, “It’s none of your concern.”
The two of you stood there for a moment, close enough that you could almost feel his breath across your lips.  If you wanted to, you could reach out and touch his chest- you could fuck with his perpetually crooked tie, but god, why would you?
It was clear that he was waiting for you to move.  When you actually did move out of his way, it shocked him.
He kept his eyes on you, watching wearily as you wandered through the small box of his office.  You examined every book and every doctorate the room had to offer- and he never stopped looking.  He expected you to say something, do something, or hurt him superficially with a mean comment or a dumb prank, but you didn’t do anything.
With his focus still on you, Reid opened the mug cabinet.
Screams filled the room.  Spencer jumped back, smacking into one of his bookshelves before sliding halfway down the wall.  He took several books down with him, knocking them to the ground as his slender fingers grasped helplessly for purchase somewhere.  
Your laughter echoed in his ears, a grating, awful, beautiful sound mixed in with the clatter of falling objects.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  Adrenaline filled each and every one of his limbs.
He was going to kill you for this.  
“(L/N)!” he yelled out your name, struggling to pull himself up from his half-bent position.  You’d never heard him sound so angry- and you couldn’t stop laughing.
“Are you-” you wheezed, “Are you okay?”
“No!  Come here and help me up!”
There he was- his voice took on a higher pitch, signalling his indignation.  You walked over, offering him a hand up.  Of course, he immediately pulled you down to his level.  You both collapsed to the floor, you with a screech and Reid with a triumphant cry.  
He sat against the bookshelf, a little dishevelled but overall okay.  You just gave up, lying on the floor with your head inches from Reid’s thigh.  The mechanism in the cabinet kept screaming in the background.
“So, how’d you pull this one off?” Spencer asked, speaking over your laughter.
“Made a couple of calls.  Got in touch with the FBI.  I’d tell you more, but I’d have to kill you.”
"Wow, you contacted the FBI about me? I must really bother you, doctor."
"Not in the slightest. You're a minor nuisance at best."
“I'm sure. So, did Morgan help you with this?  Did Garcia?”
“Maybe both of them. Maybe a little bit.”
Spencer sighed, “You are all terrible.”
“I wish I could say I was sorry.”
The two of you stayed there on the ground for a moment, just listening to the sound of screaming.  Then, the sound changed- smooth saxophone emanated from the cabinet.  You recognized that melody.  Was that?  No, it couldn’t be-
“Is that Careless Whisper?”
You and Reid stayed frozen on the floor.  The voice of George Michael spilled over you, barely covering the awkward silence.  Eventually, you sat up and shut the cabinet.  The song didn’t stop.  You bit your lip, and when you spoke again it was through clenched teeth.
“Do- do your friends want us to fuck?”
“I hate to say it, but… I think they do,” he paused for a moment, “Hey, (L/N)?  Where are my mugs?”
♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts
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covetyou · 4 months
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o, christmas tree
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: M (18+ only blog!) warnings: sex toys (so many butt plugs), Dieter being a menace to his PA, no smut, pure silliness. word count: 1.2k summary: As PA to Dieter Bravo, you were used to the strange, unusual and downright weird. What you weren't used to was taking in a shipment of - what? And how many?
A/N: I've had christmas trees/butt plugs on the brain since submitting prompts for secret santas, so I stole this one back (@missredherring I literally couldn't resist, sorry). I wrote most of this while walking my dog on Wednesday, mostly while she itched her ass on the pavement.
This is the last Dieter of me for this year, I sweeeear. Pinky promise.
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Being personal assistant to Dieter Bravo certainly had its moments. And this was one of them, as you sign for a delivery at his home of several large boxes that had clinked when the courier had brought them inside and placed them on the ground.
With a polite smile, the courier doesn't meet your eyes as hurries back out the door and into his truck, leaving you alone with the delivery slip wondering what the hell Dieter has purchased now. You cast your eyes down the paper, the company name entirely unfamiliar to you as you reach the boxes contents.
"Three hundred assorted... Dee!"
It has got to be a mistake, you think. He was unpredictable, but there was no reason for him to do something as ridiculous as this. You couldn't even imagine, didn't even want to begin to imagine, what he would do with three hundred -
Thunderous footsteps slam down the stairs, and Dieter is swinging around the last post to greet you. His hair is a mess, when isn't it, and his clothes are slung loosely around his body. You'd seen the tabloids and magazines before you started working for him, and how they often liked to call Dieter a chaotic and unprofessional, but you had to admire his dedication to loungewear and comfort chic. If you could get away with it you'd wear pyjamas all day too.
"What have I done now. You only shout like that when I've done something."
Thrusting the delivery slip into his hands you put your hands on your hips and wait, watching as his eyes quickly scan down the page and a wicked smile pulls across his face.
"Oh, amazing, they're here just in time."
"Dee, you cannot be serious." You found yourself asking him this question often, and yet he almost always was deadly, painfully serious. The look on his face tells you as much.
"Really? Three hundred assorted butt plugs? Assorted, Dee. What does that even mean."
He gives you a look that tells you you should, somehow, absolutely know what it means. When you don't respond, he sighs dramatically.
"Y'know, assorted sizes, colors, materials."
He's still not getting it, or maybe you're not getting it. You've got to be sick, you're having some fever dream inspired by the sex toys he liked to leave all around the place.
"But what are they for?"
"The party. Duh."
You told him a party would be a good idea to celebrate the end of a great year, and at first he'd reluctantly agreed. It had surprised you when his party planning picked up with gusto, and he refused your offers of help saying he had it all under control. You knew you should've been more suspicious. It was always a good idea to be more suspcisious where Dieter was concerned.
You rub your temples. Three hundred assorted butt plugs. For a Christmas party. You'd seen the guest list, some A-listers were invited, along with Dieter's co-stars from the last year and his usual crowd. Even so, it wasn't enough to warrant three hundred of anything - the guest list spanned 100 people at most.
The harsh rip of tape pulls you from your mental gymnastics, and you watch Dieter crack open the first box. The boxes had been heavy, and they'd rattled in way that, now you think about it, screamed assorted. Dieter pulls the first butt plug from the box, holding it to the light and letting the glass gleam.
"Dieter. What do you need butt plugs for, it's a Christmas party."
He shrugs his shoulders. "Decoration. Party favors. Whatever."
When you blink your eyes at him he rolls his at you.
"Figured they look like little Christmas trees, look." He places the plug on the flat of his hand and, you've got to give it to him, he's not wrong. The one he's currently holding is a deep red glass, so it's festive too, but from a glance to the box you can see just about every color thinkable. Assorted is making more and more sense.
He hands the plug to you so he can rummage through the box some more, and you hold it as if it's about to detonate in your hand. You know it's not used (yet), and by god if you hadn't held some questionable things of Dieter's in the past, but it's too early to be dealing with any of this. You just want a coffee and a sit down, and maybe some tylenol now that you were seemingly getting a headache and a pain in your ass all at once.
"What color?" he says over his shoulder, his hands still plunged into the first box.
"What color?"
"Yeah," he says, standing, holding two plugs in each hand. "Which do you think is my color?"
"Dee, I am not picking out a butt plug for you."
"Oh, come on," he whines, stomping his foot a little. "I know you like -"
"No."
He yanks the first plug from your hands, the red one, and thrusts a swirly pink one into your palm. "Fine. Here."
The question is on your lips, but before you can get it out he smirks at you.
"Pink is your color."
Your pants rip in front of him one time, and he's forever bringing up the color of your underwear. He bought you pink copies of your favorite shoes for your birthday, sent pink flowers to your apartment for eight weeks whilst he was away on a shoot without you, kept ruby chocolate in the house to snack on when you'd walk by. The man was a menace, and even though you both knew you found it funny, you keep your face steely as you brandish the pink plug at him.
"You won't be encouraging people to use these at the party, will you, Dee?"
He picks up the first box, groaning as he bends but then chuckling as the glass jingles and tinkles together lightly in the box, and walks down the hall without answering your question.
"Dieter."
You can see the devilish grin on his face from here. The asshole is ignoring you. You follow him down the hall.
"You won't be encouraging people to use them at the Christmas party, will you?"
"I think blue might be my color."
"Dee, stop ignoring me!"
He sets the box down on the kitchen island, rubbing his hands together in glee.
"Tell me you won't be encouraging people to use butt plugs at your party."
He still doesn't answer, and instead strides past you to the door, he grabs another box before lugging it down the hall to dump it next to the first.
"Dieter."
Tearing open the next box, he lets out a very pleased chuckle as he pulls out a considerably larger plug and sets it down on the countertop with a clink. It did look remarkably like a Christmas tree.
"Please."
He taps you on the nose as he fetches the last box and you cast your eyes down with a sigh, turning the pink plug around in your hands in defeat.
And then it catches your eye, a light engraving on the flat base of the plug. Flipping it, you look for a moment before your eyes adjust and register what's written on the bottom.
In beautiful looping cursive are the initials D.B.
Three hundred assorted and monogrammed butt plugs.
"God fucking damn it, Dieter."
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