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#and then I start laughing hysterically. and I bend over with a hand on her shoulder because there are tears streaming down my face
ratislatis · 1 year
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idk why it’s just coming to me now but I remember feeling this cold, white catharsis upon realizing that it wasn’t Freddie’s decision to give Glenn that panic attack. It was Anthony’s. And the way he said it, so finite, “Glenn is having a panic attack.” in a tone that was used before only to set up a disastrous scene.
It hurt, a lot, because in the weirdest way possible that’s exactly what having a panic attack is like. You’re sitting there with your world crashing down around you and then a disembodied narrator suddenly says, “This bitch shutting down.” (Distinctly in a Stanley Parable manner.)
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
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Dummy
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You lose your dummy
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"That's going to ruin her teeth," Magda says as she flops onto the sofa of Pernille's Germany apartment.
At six months old, you're happy to sit at their feet on your playmat with one of those fit the shapes into the weird cube toys.
A pacifier - or, as Millie had told Magda hundreds of times, a dummy - was rhythmically bobbing in your mouth.
Pernille rolls her eyes. "You try and soothe our crying baby when she's having a fit. It's fine. She'll be weaned off it soon enough. It's just temporary."
Magda begs to differ. You're a stubborn baby and you get attached to things quite easily. She has a feeling that weaning you from your dummy will be a more difficult task than Pernille thinks.
"Is that the only one?"
"Yep."
You turn to look at them, dummy bobbing. Your hair is longer than when Magda last made the trip to see you but not by much. It sticks up sometimes - like now - and you look like a little angel.
You smack a rectangle on the side of your cube and giggle hysterically when Pernille bends down to pick you up. You're in Magda's arms in the next second and your dummy falls out into her hand when she tugs on it.
You're happy to surrender it to her so long as you keep her attention - reaching out to smack at her nose with your little grabby hands.
"Oh!" Magda laughs, a bright smile on her face as you smack at her cheeks now. "You've got such a strong grip!" She carelessly throws the dummy onto the little table to the side of the sofa.
"Don't lose that," Pernille warns as she settles at Magda's side, stroking your cheek," She'll go mental in a bit."
Magda just laughs more. "This little angel? She's just perfect. She doesn't need a silly little dummy to soothe herself!"
Magda's right, for the most part. Your ability to self-regulate is fairly advanced for your age and you marvel at having her back in the house with you so you're quite happy.
You play with your toys and clap along to silly little songs. You've outgrown tummy time now so the one thing that you absolutely hate is no longer in your routine.
You're happy and content at dinner, taking a bottle and some baby food.
It's after your bath that you get whiny.
Pernille, well-practised in this, gets you all snug in your pyjamas quickly and strokes over your hair in an attempt to get you calm.
It delays the inevitable for a bit but, as usual, right before bed, the exhaustion catches up to you and you start crying.
It's accompanied by screaming and screeching and your little limbs kicking out.
"Okay, okay," Pernille says, flipping you into her shoulder and pressing your head into her neck. She walks the length of the house, bouncing you and cooing words in your ear.
Magda, for her part, is torn between awe and horror. Awe at the ease with which Pernille is handling this and horror at your tearful, red face as you kick and scream your disapproval at having to sleep.
"Magda," Pernille speaking snaps her out of her thoughts," Grab the dummy, please."
Magda huffs out a sigh, leaning over to grab at the table but coming up empty. She peers over the side of the sofa and frowns.
"Where is it?" She asks.
Pernille's face twitches. "Wherever you put it! Magda, come on. She's exhausted and she won't calm down on her own. This isn't the time to be messing around."
"I'm not messing around!"
Your crying gets louder.
"It's not where I left it! Tell me where you moved it!"
"I didn't move it!" Pernille snaps. She bounces you a bit firmer in the hope of quietening you and even gives you her finger to suckle on. It works for a moment before you bite down hard with some of your new teeth and Pernille has to take her finger out.
"Well, I didn't move it!"
Pernille raises a brow. "You expect me to believe that? You took it off her. How do I know that you didn't throw it away? You weren't exactly complimentary of it earlier!"
"I didn't throw it away!"
It's getting heated now and Magda has to take several deep breaths. It doesn't help that you're growing more and more distressed as the moments pass.
"Sorry," Magda says," I'll find it."
Her first thought is that it's fallen on the floor but it's nowhere nearby so she checks under your play mat and then your shape toy in case you put it in the weird cube thing on accident.
She runs a frustrated hand through her hair before lying flat on her front to check under the sofa.
You continue to sob and gnaw at Pernille's finger whenever she offers it to you.
Magda's got her phone light on and spots your dummy lying under the sofa. It's too far under it for her to reach with her hands and she almost screams in frustration when you get louder in your outrage.
Magda looks around the room, before grabbing the broom from the kitchen and shoving the handle under the sofa to get your dummy out. It takes several agonising seconds but she manages to snag the handle.
There's dust all over it and, while you've noticed that she's holding it and is now reaching with your little grabby hands for it, Magda doesn't particularly want to give it to you just yet.
She hurries to run it under the tap before she pops it into your mouth.
You're silent instantly. Your cheeks are still wet with tears but you're not screaming or crying. The dummy bobs in time with your rapid sucks and you wipe at your eyes.
Pernille bounces you a bit more and you rest against her shoulder, sagging in exhaustion.
"Thank you," Pernille says finally," I'm sorry I yelled."
Magda rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "Sorry for saying that it was silly. This thing's clearly magic."
Pernille's lips quirk upwards as she rubs your back, going to your nursery to put you to bed.
You look perfectly content now, not at all like you were sobbing your heart out a few moments ago.
As Pernille and Magda lie in bed that night, Magda says," You can get clips you know. To attach the dummy to her shirt, so we won't lose it."
Pernille smiles smugly. "I thought you said it would ruin her teeth?"
"I thought you said it was only temporary?" Magda banters back.
"We'll buy some tomorrow."
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bratphilia · 6 months
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grasp (w. afton x reader)
request: "I don’t really have a coherent story (just some thots) but i’d kill for some sort of smuttyyy ficlet that has the reader who is very short as in 4 foot 10 and has petite features (just like me 😵‍💫) being picked up and slung over Matthew Lillard!William Afton’s shoulder 🥴🥴 Include reader being scared and trying to wriggle free??? (due to her seeing or knowing something she shouldn’t have about Raglan) and some name-calling like ‘little one’, ‘good girl’ & ‘atta girl’ 🤤 - 🧸"
note: hi nonniebear!! i'm sorry if this fic is a little rushed but i tried to stay true to what you requested! hope you enjoy and feel free to keep sending in more ideas :)
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: bondage, praise kink, fingering, squirting, begging
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fuck. you're really in for it now. 
this yellowish, decaying rabbit stalks towards you, and there are four, sentient and bloodthirsty animatronics behind you. 
you're stuck. 
even worse, the rabbit came from the entrance, so if you were to try to make your escape that way there was a likelihood of you running into his knife.
"please," you find yourself pleading. "please don't kill me."
the rabbit laughs menacingly and bends down to your level. "how about this? i'll give you a head start." 
without any further questions you bolt through the maze of halls and towards the office. you crouch down in front of the vent the rabbit was referring to and unscrew the bolts barricading it. thank god you're small enough to fit in the vents. this might actually work.
then you hear unmistakeable, thumping footsteps coming towards you. 
it only hurries your actions. your heart rate rapidly increases. the screws are so aged with rust that it's hard to—
the door opens with a loud thud. you scream at the noise, and again when you're being lifted off the ground. it's the yellow rabbit. 
it slings you over its shoulder with unmatched strength. you wail incoherent words and pleas as you pound the back of the suit with balled fists. 
"help me!" you scream out to no one. "somebody help!" 
the rabbit wordlessly carries you down the hall, to one of the locked doors you dared not to venture into during your shifts. it carried you down a couple stairs and then set you on a dentist-office-style chair. 
at this point tears are rolling down your face. eyes are shut in fear of looking your captor in the eyes. uncontrollable sobs escape your mouth, praying that these aren't your final moments. then the rabbit wraps both hands (paws?) around your wrists and holds them to the arm handles so that restraints can bolt around them. 
"oh, save it," he says, clearly annoyed with your crying. "i've heard it all before, you don't deserve to die, and all that."
your eyes shoot open. the rabbit's voice no longer sounds robotic and you realize you actually recognize it. 
in a very dramatic fashion, it's steve raglan. your career counsellor, a.k.a the man who got you this job in the first place. 
he almost looks ridiculous in the rabbit suit, which admittedly doesn't add much to his already sizeable frame, but you can't find the humor in the situation in which you could be seconds away from dying in. 
"why?" you find yourself asking, suddenly more curious than hysteric. "why give me this job if you were just going to kill me in the end?" 
"because you got a little too close to the truth, and for some reason, those brats up there were unable to take care of the job themselves," he snarls resentfully. he must be referencing the animatronics. it makes sense now— the kids in the drawings with the yellow rabbit on the wall. 
"it was you. you killed those kids."
steve gives you a horrible smile. one that almost makes you weak, with that dimple you recognize from many conversations in his office. "you finally figured it out."
he walks behind you, shuffling around in the suit, and you crane your neck around to see him taking it off. he's wearing a white tee and dark purple slacks. he's not particularly muscular, but not thin either. it's a build specific to middle aged men. you hate to admit it, but your face flushes when you notice how large his hands are. 
he catches you looking at him and smiles, cocking his head curiously. "see something you like, little night guard?" instantly you whip your head back around. your head is at a moral war with itself, with you being disappointed in yourself that you were actually checking out a child serial killer. 
but steve doesn't leave it alone. once he abandons the suit, he swiftly strides over you. he places both hands on your restraints, caging you in. you shrink into yourself. 
"i think," he says lowly, "i might have a different use for you, little one. one that we can both enjoy." 
you swallow, not saying anything. steve reaches a hand up to slide down your face then cup your jaw. his hands are cold to the touch and it sends shivers down your spine. 
you find your voice. "don't touch me."
"don't touch you? are you sure?" he says cockily and you can only glare at him in response. 
"what if i just..." he trails off, sliding the hands on his face down your neck, your chest, abdomen, and eventually your core. he presses his hand there hard, making you jolt upwards and whimper. "so you don't want me to touch you, is what i'm hearing?"
fuck. this undeniably hot serial killer has you at his disposal and you can't help but feel turned on. if you're going to die, and your chances really aren't looking good for you, maybe you should just...
"please," you murmur, closing your legs so they trap his hand there.
"please, what?"
you swallow. "please fuck me." 
"'atta girl." he grins from ear to ear. "y'know, all that begging you did earlier really did a number on me, but i must say i love this change of heart."
steve starts to undo the buttons of your slacks and begins to pull them down, leaving you bare in your underwear. it's at this point you realize how wet you are, and you try to relieve the tension in your core by squeezing your thighs together but he grabs your legs and presses them to your stomach. you're just so malleable to him.
he tugs off your panties and discards them mindlessly. "look at that," he marvels at your bare skin, "so pretty, little one."
you squirm against the restraints a little. at this point the anticipation will kill you faster than he will. you wish he would just touch you already, but you had to admit all his praises were only adding to your arousal.
steve decides to sit a little further down the chair and wordlessly plunges a finger inside your pussy. he goes deliberately slow, clearly gaging your reaction. "fuck," you mutter, and it takes all your strength to not buck your hips into his movements.
"you need this, don't you, sweet girl?" he muses, stopping the thrusting of his fingers, but still keeping them inside. "tell me."
"please, please, please..." tears coat your lashes from all the teasing. "'need it so bad."
he gives you a kind smile, one you haven't seen since you were back in his office. "good girls get what they ask for. "
steve slides in a second finger and begins to pump faster. it's an improvement but you find yourself needing more. you buck your hips up hoping he would get the message and he simply laughs lowly as he adds a third finger into the mix.
his pace gets progressively faster over time to your delight. the noises coming from your center is absolutely obscene. you can feel your juices dripping down onto the seat.
"ah — ah!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing. "i'm coming — please, slow down—"
you squeeze your eyes shut. all the sudden the chair is abnormally wetter than you would have expected and— oh.
your face burns bright red. "i-i'm sorry..."
he's shocked, mouth agape and eyes slightly widened. then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "don't you dare apologize, little one, let's try that again."
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danosrosegarden · 7 months
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what i like about you - opla sanji x fem!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
{contains: a lovesick sanji, fluff at first, male masturbation, descriptions of cunnilingus, and a sort of sappy ending.}
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☽ They could be soft as the frothy ocean waves, warm as a popping fire, gentle, compassionate. Sweet like pie, glittering with cherry goo and sparkling with fine sugar. They could be fearless, bold, outspoken, brave. They could be frightening, kickstarting his heart like a crack of wild thunder with their seething rage. They could be all of this, rolled up into one gorgeously complex creature. Such intriguing beings, women were. Sanji was no stranger to spotting attractive ones. And it's not like you were his first. He'd felt the urgent thumping of his red-hot heart before while his eyes glazed over a lady's glossy hair, her glimmering smile, her bending hips. But none of those girls were you.
☽ You had joined the crew before he had. With you came an unquenchable thirst for adventure that made all of his body's blood, boiling with adoration, rush to his cheeks. Your gleaming eyes sparkled with wonder and your laugh was injected with a hysterical kind of joy. He had never encountered anybody with such passion-infused wanderlust, such genuine excitement to see the world and all of its twists and turns.
☽ And rest assured, it would only be you he thought of when he got his alone time.
☽ Really, how could Sanji think of anyone else when his hand was wrapped tightly around himself and he was pumping furiously, a light sheet of sweat clinging to his forehead? It was your smooth-skinned legs he imagined kissing, your feather-soft, cushion-plush thighs he imagined rubbing. His favorite treat was to imagine eating you out. He'd start with slow, gentle licks and work his way up to where you'd be tugging at the roots of his hair and crushing him with the squish of your thighs.
☽ How difficult it was to contain himself and his noises when his brain was infected, plagued, splattered with thoughts of you, you, you. He would cum on his quivering stomach with his cheeks burning bright and his legs trembling. He would have to work on lasting longer for you.
☽ He loved imagining you in all sorts of positions, making all sorts of sounds, spitting all kinds of filthy things into his ear while he pumped into you and your nails dug into his back. But perhaps what he enjoyed most wasn't the dirty thoughts that ate away at ropes of his brain. It was you, unapologetic you. You were caring, you were colorful, you shone bright like a polished diamond. In a crew like the one he was a part of, he had no idea what each new day would bring. But there was one constant that he could feel in the prints of his fingers and the whooshing beat of his heart: there would never be another you.
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girls-alias · 4 months
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Biker Chick - Dean Winchester P1
Title: Biker Chick - Dean Winchester Part 1
Words: 3,035
Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader
TW: Strong language, sexual hinting, violence.
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Third-person POV:
There she is again, like a shadow figure. Appearing when Dean least expects it but it's something he welcomes. Over the last few years, they would coincidentally be in the same places, in the hunter bar, on the same case and if Dean was really lucky, they were in close enough proximity to each other that it wouldn't be weird for him to talk to her.
When Dean first began noticing her, he was suspicious. After a few too many times seeing her, he finally stormed over to her. He assessed her, half-sizing her up. Like usual she was dressed in baggy clothing. He wasn't sure of her size as she always had on baggy combat pants, comfortable and stylish. Her tops were usually thin but oversized jumpers or jackets hid her figure. She noticed him early on. Her tongue pressed to her cheek looking annoyed as she turned her whole body to face him. He hesitated in front of her. Losing his nerve her eyes glared at him. She scoffed slightly, looking him up and down before giving him a bitch face.
"Can I help you with something or are you just going to stand there gawking at me?" She asked forcefully. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she almost grimaced at the sight of him. Dean had never had a reaction like this from a woman. He was used to women falling for him instantly, swooning if his eyes met there's and yet she stood there glaring at him as he was mesmerised.
"I keep seeing you," He started, the nerve to continue leaving him as she chuckled dryly, a lack of humour on her features.
"Lucky for you, unlucky for me," She explained before walking away. To say he was hooked was an understatement.
There was a while before he saw her again, slowly building up a rapport with her. Smiling when he would see her. She would start with scowls and eye rolls but now he's met with suspicious glances, it was surely an improvement in his eyes. He quickly established she was a hunter. The first time he saw her in hunter bar he was too excited to think. He walked straight up to her, somehow expecting her to smile at his presence. That is not how it played out. She didn't even look at him as he approached, she simply punched him in the dick as he got close. He grunted, stumbling back a few feet, holding himself as the air escaped his lungs. Sam had laughed hysterically, bending over, he laughed so hard. He stopped laughing when she glared at him.
"Keep laughing and you're next," She stated simply. He was quick to close his mouth. Dean stumbled back to his feet, attempting to gather the strength to talk to her once again but she slammed her empty glass on the bar top and walked out. Dean followed her out, only now learning she rides a motorbike. Her loose and baggy clothes still hung on her and made him wonder more about her.
Dean should have been scared of her, his instincts should have kicked in at some point and told him to steer clear of her but he was drawn to her. He wasn't sure why. He had seen prettier women, he had no idea what her body was like and she clearly hated him and yet he always stayed hopeful he would see her. Hopeful that one of these times she would see him and greet him, smile at him. He knew it was stupid to hope such obscene things but when she began infecting his dreams he couldn't resist the desires to be around her even if he never got the chance to live out his dreams of touching, kissing, fucking or even seeing her naked. He craved her like he'd never craved anything before.
Dean headed back to the Impala, bag of food in hand as it was his turn to make the trip out of the bunker for food. Dean soon getting lost in his own mind, driving on autopilot as he wondered about the woman who was a complete mystery to him. He often wondered if she was a siren, he thought for the longest time she was an angel but Cas was sure it wasn't her. He'd never seen her but he knew. So the only next logical thing was that she was a siren, a temptress to Dean. It didn't add up as he figured she would have done something to him by now but alas he didn't even know her name.
Dean slammed on the brakes as the car in front of him, halted to a harsh stop. Dean's heart races, his hand instinctively catching the food as it slid forward in the seat, threatening to fall and spill all over the car. Dean was filled with anger, annoyance and most of all confusion as he watched the driver from the car in front of him get out. Looking at Dean in a fury. Dean grabbed his gun, tucking it into the waistband of his pants as he climbed out of the car.
"Are you fucking blind?!" The man shouted angrily as he approached Dean. Dean was confused, quickly wondering what could have happened to make the guy so angry, he wondered if his attention was so much on the mysterious woman that he actually did something wrong. "You fucking idiot, you're going to stand there gawking at me. Are you fucking stupid?" The guy shouted. Dean was stunned slightly. He knew rage and he was seeing it on this man's face. He was about to argue back when a familiar rev caught his attention. A motorbike rider sped past them, Dean's eyes following the rider as he was slightly convinced it was her. Then again, he thought anyone on a bike was her, call it wishful thinking. Dean was brought back to reality when the angry driver shoved Dean, pushing his shoulders roughly to get his attention. "You're not even fucking listening to me!" The guy shouted but Dean sighed. His annoyance grew and his patience ran thin.
"Look, man. You need to calm down. No one got hurt, let's just drive away," Dean tried to de-escalate things but the guy scoffed.
"Drive away?! You nearly crashed into me," He shouted.
"Hey!" A voice shouted, catching their attention. Dean looked to see his mystery woman approaching the man. She still had her helmet on but was taking her gloves off. Dean quickly assessed her outfit. Leather jacket, white top showing above the jacket and black combat pants and boots. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" She asked, venom on her tongue as she asked him the rhetorical question.
"Oh, your girlfriend here to fight your battles," The guy scoffed but she placed an unloved hand on her hip. Dean watched intently, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he figured the baggy clothing made her look a little bigger but her hand bunched the fabric further than he expected.
"Get in your car and drive away or so help me I will break your nose and you'll have to cry to your mommy to come save you from the side of the road." She instructed, she seemed angry but held it to her chest. She has anger issues that fill her with rage some demons even fear and yet stupid humans think they can tame her.
"Okay, sweetheart," The guy scoffed, rolling his eyes and paying her no mind. She smirked beneath her helmet. Strutting over to him and headbutting him with a force that seemed to echo through the open air. Dean gasped, the noise curdling his stomach, he's not squeamish but it was enough to put him off food for a little while.
"No one calls me sweetheart," She boomed before raising her boot and harshly stomping it down on his kneecap. Dean covered his mouth, wincing as the sound was sure to haunt his nightmares. The man's screams and the cracking of bones sent a chill down Dean's spine but she breathed heavily, anger still plaguing her as the man cried on the floor at her feet. "And no one speaks to Dean like that," She shouted down at him as he tried to cower away from her. Dean was shocked, not only did she somehow know his name but she also defended him. Something completely shocking to him as she had only ever said two sentences to him and within those two sentences, she showed no interest in him. He watched her slightly amazed, slightly guarded. He watched as she strutted away, going behind the Impala.
"Wait," He called after her, following her as she climbed back on her bike which she had parked behind him. She kicked the stand up, holding the bike up with her legs as she put her gloves back on. He couldn't see her through the helmet but he figured she wasn't looking at him but she was. He smiled goofily. She let her lips curl at the sides as she knew he couldn't see her. "I have food in the car, it's safe to say I have been put off eating it but do you want it as a thank you?" He asked, a part of him finding any excuse to talk to her.
"I'll follow you," She stated. He was shocked, blinking repeatedly as he expected some backhand remark and for her to leave again.
"Really?" He asked, she chuckled. Something he knew would chase away the sounds from the man that would haunt his nightmares.
"Yeah, I'm hungry," She studied him beneath the mask. She was trying this thing that was new to her. It was called opening up to people. She was always independent and trusted no one but found it to be lonely at times. She would go out, looking for some company that didn't repulse her and after a little too long she realised that Dean was the least stomach-churning option. Although she treated him like she would anyone else, she had a soft spot for him. She had learned his name was Dean when he was in the hunter bar. She had guessed it was his name considering the fake badges she had seen him use many times but it was confirmed in the bar when Ellen had greeted him and his brother Sam.
"Okay, follow me," He instructed but winced realising that she had already said she would. He stammered to cover up his awkwardness but she chuckled before her engine roared to a start. Dean gulped, something about the bike roaring between her legs made him breathless. He had never wanted to be an inanimate object before.
Dean climbed into the Impala, checking his surroundings before swerving around to dodge the injured driver who was still crying on the floor, and his car. Dean's breath quickened as he realised she would be in the bunker with him and Sam and he would have to make conversation. He cleared his throat, trying out a few things he could say but nothing sounded good enough for her ears. He worried instantly if the bunker was clean enough if he was dressed well enough, if his hair looked okay and if he smelled good. Things he normally didn't care about but for her, he worried.
The drive to the bunker wasn't long enough for Dean to build up his confidence. He considered taking a detour to buy himself more time but he knew, even if he had eternity he wouldn't have enough time. He parked up the Impala, growing giddy as he heard her bike coming to a stop. He gathered the bag of food before stepping out of the car. He smiled shyly as he looked to see her kicking down the stand and removing her helmet. He expected her to flick her hair around and to look like she was in slow motion but she simply put the helmet on the handles of the bike and climbed off. He would have been a little disappointed if she didn't already look amazing. She took her gloves off as she approached him, her eyes falling on the doors as he watched her intently.
"So, you finally get me alone and you bring me to a bomb shelter," She chuckled, a slight question in her tone. Dean chuckled, finally peeling his eyes away from her.
"You won't be saying that when you go in," He explained, his voice a little weaker than normal as he feared he was making a fool of himself. Like the bunker would have magically disappeared and become a hole in the ground while he was away just to prove a point and make him look stupid in front of her. She chuckled as she began approaching the doors.
"Whatever you say," She chuckled, her hands coming up to her hair to tie it back out of her face as she descended the stairs. Dean followed, watching closely as he admired her neck from behind, he had never thought a neck could be sexual until hers. She waited at the door, looking at Dean expectantly as her hands were busy pulling the scrunchie over her hair. He didn't hesitate to open the door for her. "Thank you," She sent him a smile as she walked in. He gulped, stunned by her beautiful smile and wondering why she didn't smile more. He also enjoyed the look of her hair tied back, it made her face all the more gorgeous in his eyes.
She walked in, looking over the railing in awe as she admired the large room. "Hey, Dean," Sam called absentmindedly as he hunched over a book at the table.
"Hey, I brought -Uhh," Dean suddenly realised that he still didn't know her name.
"Y/N," She added, following as Dean climbed down the stairs. Sam whipped his head in their direction, his first instinct was fear as he had not had a pleasant encounter with her but with a faint smile, she seemed friendly enough. He eyed her carefully as they approached the table. She chuckled as she slightly relished in the fear in his eyes, something she had grown to like over the decades of being a hunter. She took a seat opposite Sam, figuring he was too worried to have her sit next to him. "I'm not going to hit you in the dick if that's what you're worried about," She chuckled, breaking the tension slightly.
"Sorry, I just thought you didn't like us," Sam explained as Dean began producing the food from the bag. He shared it with Sam and Y/N, the thought of food after the fight he had witnessed only made him queasy.
"I don't like anyone, don't take it personally," She shrugged, opening one of the containers and giving Sam a smile before Dean handed her chopsticks. Sam's eyebrows furrowed slightly but decided not to press on the matter. He too began eating, growing suspicious when Dean took a seat beside him, not indulging in food.
"You're not eating?" Sam questioned but a shiver ran down Dean's spine at the thought.
"Nope." Dean grimaced, Sam's eyebrows knitted together as he observed him.
Dean explained their encounter, the man shouting at him and Y/N turning up to fight his corner. Sam had pushed his food away when Dean described the noises his bones had made when breaking but Y/N laughed. Something the guys were horrified by. "You're so girly," She remarked, happily resuming to eat and not seeing why the boys had stopped. Dean admired Y/N when she finished eating, joining her with laughter as she laughed at a story Sam was telling and he wasn't listening to. Dean was surprised when she took her jacket off, not only because it implied she was staying longer but also because she was wearing a white tank top that hugged her body. Dean's eyebrows raised as he was impressed by the sight.
He had figured she was hiding her body because she was ashamed or embarrassed by it but he couldn't see anything she could possibly be embarrassed by. He gulped, remembering that she could look at him any second and catch him staring as he begged his eyes to look away but struggled. Dean finally joined the conversation when she looked at him expectantly, he seemed to snap out of his trance and for a few hours they all talked as if they were friends. She wasn't very talkative but would prompt them with questions to keep them talking. Dean knew she was cunning as he noticed the leading question she asked Sam. He narrowed his eyes at her, realisation suddenly hitting him that they still didn't know anything about her. She smirked at him, knowing that he had figured it out.
"I'm heading to bed, hopefully, I can sleep away my hunger," Sam joked making her laugh. They said goodnight and Dean was fully aware that for the first time ever he was alone with her. She sighed before she cracked her neck, a yawn escaping her lips before she smiled at him.
"I should get going," She commented, smiling softly as she grabbed her jacket.
"No, you can stay here," Dean shrugged but she chuckled as she rose from her seat. She swirled her jacket around to put it on.
"Thanks for the offer but I'm good," She expressed but Dean stood, his nerve quickly finding him.
"I insist, it's late. You're tired, there's rooms here." Dean began and she seemed to study him. "Come on, it'll be an hour before you get to a motel and by then they might not have rooms, just stay," He tempted, a hopeful smile on his lips. She seemed to ponder it.
"It's not an inconvenience?" She asked, her hands hesitating to do the buttons on her jacket.
"No, there's probably a hundred rooms here," Dean chuckled, she smiled softly as she nodded.
"Just one night," She expressed. Dean grinned knowing he would be around her more. He nodded as she sighed. "Don't make me regret this," She commented as she took her jacket off again.
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titaniasfairy · 4 months
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john price might be a little territorial
cw: fem!reader, soft dom!price, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v,
honestly got this idea after @glossysoap mentioned needing to experience beard burn 😭
18+ MDNI !!
being a liaison for the SAS unit, specifically the task force 141, was working out wonderfully for you.
despite you being a glorified paperwork handler, the job had its perks. with government healthcare and a pretty hefty salary, you were going along just fine.
not to mention your co-workers, who are just lovely. most of them have become your best friends who you can tell anything to.
soap who’s just a sweetheart, always trying to help you in whatever way possible. you remember one day where he brought you lunch because you were so busy with your reports, saying he couldn’t stand to see you hungry.
gaz who’s so patient with you! he doesn’t mind if it takes a little longer to get his files turned in or his mission reviews typed up. some nights he’ll even bring you a cup of coffee to keep you awake.
ghost who’s just a gentle giant. always telling you dad jokes to brighten up your day, going above and beyond to make you smile. he’ll leave sticky notes on your desk with silly puns or inside jokes to make the day a little easier.
and captain john price, who never fails to make you cum. after a long, hard night he’ll come knocking on your office door to lay you down on your desk and fuck you with his fingers. his thick digits will curl up into your g-spot to make your legs spasm and your back arch.
if you ever needed an off day to destress or relax, best believe he’s at your door the moment he finds out. in his eyes, the best way to destress is to bend you over the bed and fuck you into oblivion.
while your moments with him are so blissful, the second he leaves you’re stuck in a state of loneliness. you’ll lay in your bed that just feels so cold without his warming presence. john says he can’t spend the nights, afraid of what would happen if anyone found out about your relationship.
but this idea changed all so suddenly.
the team was out one night celebrating their recent mission. they sat in a dimly lit pub drinking in celebration. while john was only a bit buzzed, the rest of the team was piss drunk.
gaz and soap were arm wrestling , and simon was acting as a ‘judge’ for the contest. the three of them were laughing hysterically when price’s phone rang.
you were still on base getting some reports done, and had to ask john an important question on filing the documents. you got your answer and thanked him before hanging up.
when john put his phone away, the boy’s focus was now on him and his phone call. gaz asked if it was you on the phone with a cheeky look on his face and john nodded.
“did ya’ see what she was wearin’ today? i could barely take my eyes off of er’ arse in that skirt.” johnny said while sipping his pint.
“cmon, soap be a gentleman.” kyle said while nudging his teammate’s shoulder.
“don’t deny it! you n’ LT were just goin’ on about how good her tits looked in that blouse last week!”
“he’s right, gaz.” simon mumbled out from the other side of the table.
all the while price was clenching his fists furiously. he couldn’t stand having his men talk about what was his— what only he could have. he stood up suddenly and gathered his things.
“i’m goin’ home, got laundry to do.” it was a bold face lie. price had no intention of going home, not until he claimed you for the night.
before the boys could say anything john was gone. he slammed the door of his truck closed and started the engine, dead set on making you know you’re his.
price’s hands gripped the steering wheel hard, his jeans growing tighter just at the thought of what he was going to do to you.
without having to think about it, his feet led him to your office and knocked on your door loudly.
your sweet voice called out “come in” and he barged into the room, slamming the door behind him.
“john, what’s wrong i thought you went-”
“strip.”
his words took you off guard and you gave him a confused look by squinting your eyes and furrowing your brows.
“what are you talking about-”
he interrupted you again
“i said strip. do it before i make you.”
you closed your laptop and began unbuttoning your blouse, fingers nervously shaking in anticipation of what was to come. you shrugged the blouse off and threw it across the room while john hummed in approval.
“turn around and take the skirt off.”
his arms were crossed and his gaze was intensely fixed on you. you turned slowly and john got a good look at your ass in that tight pencil skirt you were wearing. you unzipped the skirt and threw it onto the pile before you hastily took off your heels. you were left in your bra and panties, a wired t-shirt bra and your cotton underwear.
you turned back around and john advanced on you by grabbing your waist and pulling you into a hot kiss. his teeth clashed against yours and his tongue fought its way into your mouth while your hands held his face.
his hands lingered on your body and palmed your breasts through your bra. john pushed you up against him and you could feel his throbbing erection through his jeans, making you moan softly.
“gonna show them all who you belong to.” john’s words came out in a growling voice and before you could respond, he picked you up and placed you on your desk. his lips traveled from your mouth to your jawline and eventually falling to your neck. he left dark marks with his lips and teeth, effectively claiming you with his marks.
between moans you huffed out in protest, “john- people will see them.” your hands moved to push him away, but he persisted.
“let them see. let them know who gets to please you like this.”
you’ve never seen john so possessive, he’s always been cautious with your meetings, too scared to have everyone know of your secret. the hanging threat of the consequences always loomed over his head, but now it seemed like the captain had nothing to lose.
his words went straight to your core, soaking your panties with arousal. john reached his hands behind your back and freed you from your bra. his eyes immediately glued onto your tits as your nipples hardened from the sudden cold air.
greedy hands groped your breasts while john’s lips wrapped around the bud of your nipple and sucked hard. your fingers ran through his short hair and gripped hard when his teeth grazed against you.
he moved his mouth to the other breast, repeating his actions. his hand slid down your stomach and into your soiled panties. you could feel him smile against you when his fingers ran across your wet slit.
“so wet for me, love. you been thinkin’ about this all day?”
it was like he could read your mind. ever since you woke, dirty thoughts of john and his cock filled your head. your thighs squeezed together with every word he spoke.
“yeah.. been needy all day for you.”
he took his mouth off of your breast and gave you a soft kiss. “i know, love. i’m gonna take care of it, f’you.”
his hands moved to rid you of your panties, leaving you completely naked on your desk. john’s lips left a wet trail of kisses down your body, landing on the hood of your pussy. soft blue eyes started into yours as john sank to his knees in front of you.
john took hold of your thighs and left small pecks on the inside of them. he teased you relentlessly, making you ache inside. you needed his mouth and whined out to let him know.
“if you want something, you have to ask.” he mumbled out against the plush of your thighs.
you whimpered out, but to no avail. john’s eyes stared into you and you had no choice but to beg.
“please eat my pussy! i need to feel your mouth on me, john.”
“that’s better.”
his mouth latched onto your sex and began to lap at your inner folds. it was messy and wet the way his tongue ran along your cunt and slobbered on your clit. you muffled your moans with your hands and arched your back, trying so hard to get even closer to him.
you ground your hips into him and held his hair with your fingers. his lips latched around your clit and sucked hard. john began to palm his length through his jeans, making him moan against your core. the vibrations against you only made your peak come faster.
his beard stung against your thighs, only adding to your pleasure. you were sure that tomorrow it’d hurt like a bitch, but right now it was fucking divine.
“taste so fucking good, love.” john’s middle and ring finger slipped inside of you, causing your mouth to let out an involuntary moan. john chuckled and circled your clit with his thumb while thrusting his digits into you.
“go on, baby. let everyone know who you belong to.” in reality there was no one left in the office area. everyone had either gone to their barracks or the dining hall.
you moaned out as his fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot only john could reach. your legs shook and he could tell that you were close.
“you gonna cum for me? gonna wet my fucking fingers with your juices? come on love, let go for me.”
his lips wrapped around your clit once more, sending you over the edge. you moaned out in bliss while your body spasmed. you soaked john’s fingers with your cum as he continued to thrust them into you.
once you came down from your high, john carefully removed his fingers from you and sucked them clean. after which he kissed you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
while his tongue was busy in your mouth, his hands began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. john pulled down his jeans along with his boxers and revealed his achingly hard length. it throbbed at the feeling of the air, standing tall at about 7.5 inches.
john pulled his lips from yours and aligned his cock to your entrance. “you ready, dear?” his eyes were filled with gentleness and lust and you could only give him a small nod. his hips slowly thrusted forward inside you, filling you up by the second.
when his hips were flush against yours and he was fully inside you, he kissed you softly. “you feel so fucking good. no one else gets this but me, you understand?” the feeling of his cock inside you was so overwhelming that you could only let out a whiney “mmhm!”
after your response, john began to thrust his cock into you hard. his hands gripped your thighs as pounded into you. his cock was so big that it hit every spot inside you, leaving you a crying mess below him.
your moans were reduced to small ‘ah ah ah’s while john let out grunts and groans from the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. he swears that you’re the tightest pussy he’s ever fucked.
his balls slapped against your ass and the sound of skin on skin filled the room. john pushed your legs back against your chest, getting the deepest angle he could. your tummy bulged with him inside you and john’s eyes focused hard on your abdomen, pressing his hand on the prominent bulge inside you.
“you feel that baby? i’m so fucking deep inside you, love. wonder how your tummy would look if it was full with my kid.”
your eyes shut at the thought of john impregnating you and your cunt squeezed around him, sucking his cock back inside of you.
“you like that, hm? like the idea of carrying my baby? gonna tell everyone who’s it is? tell everyone it was me who did this to you?” john’s grip on your waist tightened and his thrusts were harder.
your orgasm began to rise up again, getting closer with every thrust inside you. john’s grunts became full on moans and his thrusts began to stutter. your hands groped your tits and your fingers swirled your nipples, bringing you closer to release.
“come on, love, let’s cum together. i need to empty my balls in this tight little cunt. need to give you my baby, need to breed this wet pussy.”
before john could finish his sentence you were moaning out and cumming on his length. his seed began to spill inside you in long fat ropes of his cum while he let out pornographic groans into the air. you threw your head back and rode out your high as john did for his.
once the both of you were spent, john slowly pulled out of your pussy and pulled your panties back on before putting his own pants on. he sat in your office chair and pulled you into his lap while you were still nude.
he held you against his chest while running his hand up and down your back. you felt complete with him, you found solace in these moments with him.
“i don’t want us to be a secret anymore, love. i can’t take it.”
you lifted your head and stared into his eyes in disbelief. “but what about-?” he shushed you and held you close.
“i’m not worried about that anymore. i want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
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evanspresso · 1 year
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and then they knew you could be homesick for people too.
She watched the screen intently, butterflies erupting in her stomach while waiting for him to answer the call. It’s almost been four months since he’s been gone, the longest he has ever been away on a work trip since they started dating.
“My love!” She finally hears through the speakers following with his face popping onto the screen with a huge smile plastered across his face.
“I was getting worried that you might’ve fallen asleep.” she sighs in relief.
Y/n clutches to her wine glass peering at Evan. He looks tired especially since it’s around two in the morning where he is, but it’s the only time y/n can call him since she only gets home and has enough time to change before calling him.
They don’t like to call this a “long distance” relationship because he’s only gone when on location, when she’s not in University, or working she usually tags along, but it sure does feel like it when days turn into weeks and months.
Anyway, he is her everything so all she really needs is to see his handsome face and hear his beautiful voice that makes her weak in the knees and she’s all set.
Of course Evan already knows this but he can’t help but be selfish when it comes to y/n.
Of course Evan already knows this but he can’t help but be selfish when it comes to y/n.
“You know I’d never do that to you” Evan says softly as he watches her take a sip of her wine.
“I know.”
She frowns at him, noticing the bags under his eyes and he sticks his tongue out at her in hopes to cheer her up. “Sleep who? I only want you.” he teases.
“Oh, shut up!” she playfully rolls her eyes at his cheekiness.
Y/n cracks a smile at him as he places his hands behind his head and gives himself bunny ears, causing her to laugh a true laugh that brings music to his ears.
“Only two more weeks, baby and I get to come home!” He says excitedly. “Then I get to kiss you all over and keep you locked in the bedroom for days.” he says darkly while wiggling his brows.
Y/n’s eyes gloss over as she looks at him through the screen, all she’s wanted to do since the day he had left was exactly that and she didn’t know if she could handle two more weeks without her beau.
But, she doesn’t want him to see the pain, or blame himself for the way she’s feeling so she pushes her thoughts aside, biting her lip in anticipation while dropping her head in her hands and awing at him with her eyes.
“Promise?” She nearly whimpers making Evan laugh, throwing his head back to the process.
“Always!” He muses.
“Two weeks can’t go by fast enough, I can’t wait until you’re here… in our bed and in my arms.” she hums.
Evan nods, his motions lagging as the connection faults a for a second or two. Y/n chuckles at the way his face is frozen in the screen, his face all distorted from being paused in the middle of nodding his head, she can’t help but take a screenshot of it.
Y/n loves posting screenshots of their FaceTime chats, mostly the ones where Evan is making a funny face, she gets a kick out of it and so do her followers. Evan always grins about it, but y/n knows that he secretly loves them, she can always picture him laughing hysterically at himself which causes her to smile.
“Mmm you have no idea.” Evan says after appearing live on the screen with a yawn.
Y/n scrunches her nose at him and leans back into her chair, tilting her head back as she chugs the rest of her wine speeding up the process of a tingling head.
Evan hoots at her playfully, bringing his hand up into a fist and pumping it over his head causing y/n to snort out and laughs long with him, both of their eyes filled with tears as they bend over laughing at one another.
“My girl’s goin’ to bed tipsy tonight!” he says loudly like he’s talking to an audience which causes y/n to scoff and wipe her lips.
“At least I know I’ll sleep like-"
“A fucking brick!” He laughs causing y/n to shake her head at him, “when you’re wine drunk, you’re on a whole other level.” he laughs causing y/n to hide her face into her hands giggling, already feeling the buzz of the bubbly.
“You never seem to complain when you experience it first hand!” she snaps making him suck in and smirk at her.
“Handsy ladyy!!” he sing songs.
“Loser.” she says, sticking her tongue out at him, watching as he clutches his chest and sticks out his tongue in response.
Like clockwork, the pair have their synchronized yawn motioning that it’s time for sleep, Evan groans and looks at his clock and y/n knows it’s time, it’s around three for him by the time they come close to the end of their conversation.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Y/n nods.
She smiles at her boyfriend, watching as he leans closer to his laptop and blows her a kiss through the screen.
Y/n’s cheeks glow red as she reaches out and pretends to place it on her heart before doing the same, watching Evan pretend to stuff her kiss into his briefs causing her to snort out.
“Love you.” he whispers causing y/n’s head to spin even more than it already was.
She knew she’d never get tired of hearing it come from him, and she’d never lose those butterflies that followed.
“I love you too” she whispers back, “until tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow.”
-
Likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated. xx
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lemmetreatya · 1 year
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may I request connie x blk fem! reader really anything tbh, i’ve been having a brain rot of him recently
🧺 been watching sm of baby shelanda’s stuff over on insta and i cant help but think connie would be that typa parent 😭💖 🧺
“yo babe, babe!”
upon hearing connie shout for you from within the apartment, you automatically stopped what you were doing. seeing as it sounded urgent, you quickly jog to where you last left him before assessing the situation.
“what? what happened?” you frantically ask.
connie seems to have a smile on his face as he meets you in the hallway. instantly, your guards down, but you start to wonder if this was a milestone for your child instead and so you return his smile.
“come look at this.”
he says with a low voice, his hand softly clamping around your wrist as he pulled you into the bathroom to see.
upon entering, you were in fact, unamused.
“connie.”
you look back towards the man before hovering behind your daughter as she sat in the bath sink with a raggedy blonde two plait wig on. upon seeing her mother within the mirror in front of her, she babbled. only being the tender age of one, her speech was entirely limited, but you couldnt deny how the side eye she gave the both of you through the lopsided wig, was amusing.
“boy, what i tell you bout putting them wigs on my child’s head?”
you pout but your lips were on the brink of breaking out into a smile. seeing your light hearted reaction, connie grinned as he squeezed into the bathroom pass you and horizontally held your daughter underneath his arms, as if she was a piece of timber wood.
“but its funny, come on! she likes them too, don’t you bubba?”
he hypothetically asks. your daughter only gargles with laughter at the position her father held her in.
connie turns the child vertical so that she was sitting just on top of his arm. as the girl squealed in delight, the man occasionally kissed her chubby cheeks, bathing her in assuring and words full of love. he then held her securely by holding his other arm around her small milk filled stomach.
looking down at your kin in your man’s arms, you could only sigh. connie always liked to dress your daughter in such outlandish fits. you personally think he does it to try and push your limits but you’re not too fussed about it. as long as he don’t let her go outside looking like that, you’re okay with it.
for once, you decided to play along with it.
“woooow! baby, look at the new hair daddy got you! you like it?”
bending down to hold her hand, she surprisingly replied with a babble that sounded a lot like a ‘yeah’.
with a face of surprise, connie looks in your direction.
“ha, see i told you!” he cheeses, bopping your child even more.
you roll your eyes at the childishness of his antics but you primarily ignored them. shaking your head with a short laugh, you fold your arms over your chest as you nod your chin in the direction of the hairpiece your daughter was now tugging at the edges for.
“where’d you even find this wig?” you ask.
with a shrug, connie swaps arms he was holding his daughter in.
“dunno. think i found it in the hair shop when i was buying your lip gloss.”
theres was nothing wrong with his answer but concerning you now found out he went on detour missions when doing errands for you didnt please you. especially since most times hed be coming back home with only half the items you requested.
with a sigh, you take the wig off from your daughter’s head. she doesn’t complain, only watch up at you with her big curious eyes. it did however seem to not sit well with connie as he made a loud whiney noise.
“noo! the miss elsa wig!”
you can only giggle as you transition the wig onto connie’s head, the piece barely fitting. with a surprised expression, he doesn’t even have enough time to retort something back before his daughter is hysterically laughing at the predicament.
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rozcdust · 1 year
Text
Mockingbird
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Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x F!Reader
Genre: Crack, fluff, lil angst
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: Canon divergent, OOC, profanity, bodily harm, gang violence, mentions of gore, casual misogyny, y/n genuinely tries to be a good parental figure, Shin keeps being a simp
You were born rotten, but he had a chance.
pt. 1 | previous | playlist
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“If we win, I want your second in command to go out with me!” Shinichiro proudly announced, his hands crossed over his chest with a shit-eating grin.
He heard Wakasa facepalm beside him as a collective groan passed through the Black Dragons.
Tomoe allowed just a flash of bewilderment to mark her face, before she started laughing, hysterically, bending at the waist and clutching her stomach as she leaned on you to not fall.
You heard your members snickering behind you as you stood beside your leader, an unimpressed look plastered on your face as you stared at the man in front of you.
His hair was a fucking embarrassment.
Tomoe straightened up, still giggling, but as soon as she looked at Shiniciro’s face, her hysterical fit of laughter started again.
“Wait, sorry, let me just-“ She barely managed to wheeze out, catching her breath, “Let me just-“
She burst out laughing again.
You sighed, seemingly irritated but with a playful smirk on your lips.
“Y/n, do you accept those conditions?” She somehow got out, breathless and face red from laughter, looking up at you and cackling when she saw your unimpressed face.
“I mean, sure, but,” You licked your lips, eyes passing over Shinichiro’s form, “This isn’t really a gang matter, is it?”
“Oh, you’re right!” Tomoe clapped her hands, having the same thought as you, the shit-eating grin still on her face as she stepped away from you and you just knew she’ll torment you about this later.
“Here, let’s strike a deal, lover boy,” Stepping forward, your hands deep inside the pockets of your pants, you grinned, and you could swear you saw the man gulp, “No need to bring our gangs into our clearly destined love. Let’s do this one-on-one.”
Another groan passed through Black Dragons, and you could swear you heard the tall, dark-skinned man say ‘Great. Now we’ll have to bury him.’
“One-on-one? Cool, second in command versus second in command, let’s do this.” The dark-haired man with a scar standing next to Shinichiro stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a grin, but Tomoe shook her head.
“You’re not the one tryna take our poor y/n away, are you? Only he*,” She nodded in Shinichiro’s direction, “Can fight for this to a fair deal.”
“Oh well, I tried,” Takeomi shrugged, stepping back, “It was nice knowing you, Shin.”
“Wait!” Shinichiro suddenly exclaimed, pointing a finger at you, “How old are you?”
Amusement twinkled in your eye.
“19.”
Shinichiro swiftly turned to Wakasa, worry written all over his face.
“It wouldn’t be weird to date someone two years younger, right?”
Wakasa looked close to popping a blood vessel.
“I’d really prefer if you were more woRRIED ABOUT THE FACT YOU’RE ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE!”
“Is it weird?”
“NO, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH, BUT YOU’LL NEVER TAKE HER OUT BECAUSE WE’RE ABOUT TO ORGANISE YOUR FUNERAL!”
Shinichiro shrugged.
“Tell gramps and ‘Zana and Emma and Mikey I love them.”
Wakasa looked utterly and fully done with everything.
“So will we fight, sweetheart?” Stepping closer to Shinichiro with your hands inside your pockets, your smile was infectious.
“Of course!” Grinning, even as his gang let out another prolonged groan, Shinichiro shrugged off his jacket, stepping closer as well.
“Before we do, lover boy,” You sounded too cocky and too excited, but he couldn’t help to find it immensely attractive, “Pick a number between 1 and 7.”
Ah, he knew this one, Wakasa warned him about it.
He also said to never pick 7.
So, naturally…
“Seven!” Confidently crossing his arms, he proudly exclaimed even as silence fell over your up-until-now laughing gang.
Quirking an eyebrow, your face turned inquisitive.
“Are you sure you want that?”
“Positive!”
The huff Takeomi let out from behind him almost muted Tomoe’s serious, muttered command.
“Someone have an ambulance ready.”
Your grin seemed to split your face in half, with too many teeth and a glint in your eye.
The fact that Wakasa already had a prayer circle going wasn’t too encouraging.
“Hey, Shin! What colour flowers do you want on your grave?”
The second your foot connected with his solar plexus, he almost regretted not responding.
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The worst part wasn’t even that he got beat up within an inch of his life, the blood from his broken nose seeping down his throat, mixing with saliva and pooling on the inside of his mouth, body full of aches and misery, and at this point, he was sure he at least had a broken rib.
No, that wasn’t the worst of it, and he knew Wakasa, Benkei and Takeomi would laugh at him if they could read his thoughts, but to hell, at least those were private.
The worst was that this truly will be his 21st rejection, and to hell with it, what is he doing wrong?
You fought fast and mean, something ferocious and self-confident in your steps, most of your movements a blur Shinichiro could barely register, not wasting any time on intimidation tactics or chit-chat, even when he asked ‘Nice weather up there?’ when you threw him on the ground, looming above him, before beating the shit out of him all over again.
He tapped your hip three times, signalling defeat, and as you got off him, leaving him alone on the ground, eyes closed, he could hear his members murmuring, asking if he’s alive.
“Well, that concludes our match, ‘twas nice doing business with ya! We will continue sharing the turfs, no problems now, are there?” Tomoe exclaimed, grinning like a mad woman in front of your cheering gang.
Shinichiro flashed a thumbs up, every movement another hellscape of misery for his already aching body.
Wakasa was the first by his side, grabbing his hand to pull him up, anger and worry mixing on his face, but shutting up as soon as he saw Shinichiro’s warning look.
“Come on Shin, get up, not like that bitch was that pretty anyway.”
Before Shinichiro could scold him, silence fell over Dead Snakes again, each and every member cautiously looking at you.
“Well now he’s done it.” Tomoe sighed, seemingly exhausted in a second.
Neither Wakasa nor Shin had enough time to process when you appeared before them, hand reaching and fingers tangling into Wakasa’s hair, getting into his face.
Even as the two of you fought, Shinichiro noted, all to be seen on your face was a mask of smug calmness, not another emotion betrayed, but now, you looked pissed.
Shinichiro took a long breath.
“Well then, let’s have a chat, Imaushi, whatcha think about that? Why are you cowering? Fucking scared?” Sneering, your grip on his hair tightened, “I am not interested in hearing any of your bullshit. That bitch, huh?”
Your face was mere inches from Waka’s, his teeth gritting from the pain as your eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a sadistic smile, voice absolutely furious.
“Let’s be honest, Imaushi, if I was a guy, you’d be begging to suck my dick right here and now. You’d think I’m the coolest fucking guy out there, but oh no, I’ve got a couple of hormones wrong and a slit between my legs, and so I’m just a bitch, aren’t I?”
“Hey-“ Shinichiro tried, but Tomoe stepped in before he could get another word in, her hand gently settling on your shoulder.
“Come on, y/n, we’ve won, he’s just an asshole. Let him go.”
You did as you were told instantly, allowing Wakasa to fall to the ground with a thump.
Tomoe gently wrapped her arm around your shoulder, throwing Wakasa a glare as she started dragging you away, but you stopped her for a second, turning to Shinichiro.
“Hey, loverboy!”
Shinichiro look at you, confused, raising an eyebrow.
“Meet you at the Wandakura Park, Friday, 7 p.m. sharp. Don’t be a minute late or I’m dipping,” Smirking at his bamboozled face, you allowed Tomoe to start walking you to the rest of the gang, not even looking at him as you shouted, “You’re kinda cute with your hair down!”
Shinichiro continued staring for a couple of minutes even after you left, kneeling on the ground, eyes wide and unfocused.
Takeomi poked him with a stick, and even then, all Shinichiro did was turn his head, looking right through him.
“I have a date.” Whispering, Shinichiro finally smirked.
“WITH A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!” Screaming, Wakasa finally stood up, ruffling his hair and cringing at the sensation.
“To be fair,” Benkai started, “She had a point-“
“Not another word, I swear to God.”
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. . . next
🔖Taglist (open):
@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @sanzucide @touyasghost @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @astropheia @rgtgt @bubble-dream-inc @princesshaitani @luvjiro
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Pure Masculinity
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Warning: newspaper gossip, Bucky with long hair, allusions to cheating, pregnancy
Summary: You find an old photo of Bucky in the newspaper
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You sat at the kitchen bar sipping your tea while lazily flipping threw the newspaper that laid on the coffee table. “Nothing new?” Pepper sat next to you with her own mug of steaming brown liquid. You shook your head. “You know since you and Tony married nothing scandalous is on the gossip side. I miss the days when you and Tony dated but weren’t public and the media would go wild with speculations.” Pepper snorted into her mug giving you a side eye. “Maybe you should start to fill that gossip column. It could be fun. We could start betting who your next lover gonna be like me and Tony did.”
Your eyes widened. “Why wasn’t I invited?! This could have been so much fun. Now I have to bet on when baby Stark is being conceived.” You looked over to her and raised your hands. “Only if you guys want that. You two is also a perfect family. And you got me. You feral chaotic child you found in the woods.”
Pepper threw her head back at your comment about yourself. She clutched her stomach and had to bend over to relief some of the pain from laughing so loud.
Bucky was in the hallway when he heard the hysterical laughter of Pepper and you. Slowly he crept into the room to look what was going on. For once he thanked his spy training so he could noiselessly creep into the room.
You were joking about a newspaper article when he suddenly stopped. “Huh. Look at this paragraph. The Winters Spouse. None existing or is he Captain Americas “best friend”. Oh my god they found their newest victim.” You cackled into your mug while Pepper read over the article.
“I once told Tony if I would leave him it was for him. He is just…damn! You know?” Your eyes widen. “Tony didn’t take it well, did he?” Pepper shook her head, “Not in a bit. He slept in the lap for a week and ignored me for the time. But he missed me too much to ignore me the whole time.”
Your schoolgirl giggles made Bucky’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. He had the biggest crush at you after Steve rescued him. You were there every step of the way for his therapy. Always video chatting after a session while he was in Wakanda.
“You know, this picture just sparks pure masculinity.” You looked over to the redhead while biting your lip. Bucky had to control every ounce of his being to not give himself away. His self-restraint was on thin ice.
Pepper grinned, “Makes me want to swoon.” You hummed while taking a sip of your coffee, “Same. I’d die to fall into this arms.” You groaned at the thought of the super soldier’s arms carrying you around.
“Sadly we are both married woman.” She hummed. You nodded with her. “Sadly. But think about it. My husband looks a lot like him. But he is missing the long hair.” You sighted while taking another sip from your mug.
Bucky couldn’t hold back his snort and let it out. Startling both you and Pepper. You turned on the stool to glare at the man who disrupted your gossiping. “James! I told you not to sneak up on me! It could be any day now!” You pointed at your very prominent belly.
Bucky pouted at you as he walked over to you. “I am so sorry, hun. Won’t do it until the kid is screaming and kicking.” He kissed the side of your face while sneaking his arms around your waist as best as he could.
You turned to him and pointed at the paper laying untouched on top. “Did you know you were Steve’s boyfriend?” His already big smile grew bigger. You scoffed at him as he snuggled closer. “I’m a little saddened that you are seeing other women behind my pregnant back. How could you. And with a supermodel with very fake lips.” You held up the paper to show him the picture of said model. You scoffed at him and turned to pick up your mug again. He knew you were acting but he played along. “Love, I don’t know who that woman is. I exclusively date crazy, powerful woman with telekinetic powers who were found in the forest by their brother-figure and his wife.”
Pepper, who was watching the whole scene play out had to smirk. Slowly she made her way out of the room to walk to her husband’s lab. He was tinkering away on a suit when she entered. “You should watch the kitchen footage. They are too cute.” Tony looked over his shoulder with a scoff. “I had an appointment with the dentist last week. I don’t want another seal because of their sugar sweetness.”
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kthynes · 1 year
Text
practice makes perfect
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18+
You and Lloyd have your first unrehearsed kiss.
warnings: mafia!Lloyd x fem!reader. course language, kissing. Fake husband/wife trope.
authors note: this is a small standalone is apart of the Husband for Hire series.
Not beta’d - mistakes are my own
“Okay.” You shimmy back your shoulders, trying to ease all the hellbent nerves that ebbed and flowed. It’s a glorious sunny afternoon in nowhere land. Lloyd had just moseyed back from the Barn, a designated kill space, no clue as to where your antics would take him today.
But being a good sport meant that he sat next to you on a rusty patio bench, holding onto your every salient word. Or therelackof.
“Okay?” He echoes, nodding once.
“So how should we… you know go about this?” You animate with your hands. His brows shoot up to his hairline.
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“It’s been weeks and we haven’t done much.” Lloyd is near right hysterical. His posture changes and there’s some pitiful theatrics that follows. “And. And! Hear me out! I know there’ll be a time and place where we’re going to have to consummate this union. I just thought we could—“
“Are you asking to fuck, again?”
“No! Oh my god. No. Not like that! That’s… that’s not where I was going with this.” You yell, panicked after having this conversation before. “God, this is so mortifying and weird and so fucking unnecessary...” You start cursing under your breath. Nature takes wind and even the birds censor you out.
“Tell me what you want, mi Luna. No need to beat around the bush.” Lloyd tries to suppress his laughter. You’re forthcoming as is.
“I want you to kiss me.”
“Oh.”
“For practice, of course. You know so that way we aren’t blindsided at functions.” This was your best friend, Liza’s idea. You let her talk your ear off about all the fake husband/wife tropes that she’s read up on the internet. She suggested a kiss would seal the deal and make it more convincing for the mob. You weren’t so sure by her juvenile rationale.
“That’s fair.” Lloyd agrees.
“Yeah?” You breathe, taken aback by his nonchalant response.
“Yeah… I mean you are bending your rules here. But, I can most definitely oblige.” He slides a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls your face close. Nose to nose, you stare right into his blue irises. This was jarring and he played right into it. “Just say when.”
You gulp but find your measly big girl words to initiate the cause. “Now?”
He leans forward and tests the water, gently pressing his soft lips against yours. A quick little peck invokes a reactionary gasp. Your senses come alive. Your heart in your throat. Lloyd’s lips continue there torturous assault, peppering you with the most ‘you’re mine’ kisses. The onslaught of pecks then progresses into a moment of passion. Your mouth opens in tandem with his. He leans into you for closeness, bodies melding together. His hand grips the back of your neck, gentle squeezes that guide you in. There’s depth and urgency. It’s sloppy and wet, calloused by soft suctioning noises. Your insides begin to churn. Everything is fleeting. But reality is a bitch and that’s when you quickly pull back, breathless and disoriented.
“Good enough for you?” Lloyd’s impressed with himself, unaffected. You could barely get a word out let alone a Yelp review.
“Lloyd.” One of his men appears at the patio door, interrupting the moment. “McNally’s here.”
“Great. I’ll be right there.” He doesn’t look away from you or your beautifully kiss-swollen lips. He’s dying to run his thumb across it but his men were socially inept. “How bout we continue this after dinner?”
“Okay!” You squeak and then retreat, flooded with more embarrassment. Lloyd laughs a melody as he gathers himself off the bench. It’s for certain that you both will be replaying that kiss, over and over again. But it also doesn’t end there in memory.
Because as they say: Practice makes perfect.
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junosartsthetic · 1 year
Note
hi hello nsfw if ur ok? sdc joseph using hermit purple in an inappropriate way?? thanks
Warning(s): Joseph being a dirty old man, mentions of sex, age gap, inappropriate use of a stand, afab!reader, pubic hair, voyeurism-ish, Hermit Purple is convenient for teasing
--
You should have known better than to invite your overeager and impatient lover to a fancy formal dinner with a few coworkers. You figured he’d at least be able to wait until after the meal to start teasing you. That was a silly assumption. 
It started with a prickly sensation coiling around your ankle, mimicking the straps of your heels. You looked down, past your long-slitted gown, to spy a familiar purple stand. You narrowed your eyes, hoping it would retreat quickly. You knew he wanted to get out of here, and he’d made it clear before arriving he wanted nothing more than to rip your gown off and take you right there in the entryway, but to resort to such childish actions? To what, get a rise out of you? You weren’t actually that surprised, but still. You told him you’d leave after eight. And it was only seven forty-five. He could wait fifteen minutes. Maybe.
You shook your foot a little, trying to shoo him away. Unfortunately, the vines clung on, slithering higher up your bare leg. You resisted the urge to bend down and grab them. 
“So, how’d a guy like you end up with someone like (Y/N)?” one of your associates teased, laughing. You glanced back up from your slithering situation. She rested a hand on her chin, leaning on it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d figured she’d get with someone. . .”
“Younger?” Joseph finished lightheartedly. You felt the vines squeeze you, as if to juxtapose her comment. 
“Oh I didn’t mean to offend you,” she corrected. “I’m just curious as to how you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. She never shuts up about you.” 
You smiled as calmly as possible given the ever heightening purple vines now brushing against your thigh, stifling a laugh at her choice of words. If she only knew just how wrapped up he had you. “I don’t talk that much about him,” you insisted, your hand sneaking under the table to pry the vines from snooping any further. They wouldn’t budge. Your eyes moved to Joseph’s. You glanced at his stand before looking back at him. He played innocent, ignoring your annoyed stare.
“Oh, I have my methods,” he quipped, letting out a laugh. “Nice to hear she talks about me. All good things, I hope. Or not. Depending.”
“Quit it,” you huffed, reaching over to smack his shoulder. “We’re at a formal place, this is no place for a double entendre.” You hoped he’d get the message about his Hermit Purple currently fiddling around with your panty seam.
“It’s fine, (Y/N)! It’s not that formal. Besides, I’ve heard the things you’ve said about him. It’s no secret what you two get up to.”
You wanted to strangle your coworker. Her words fueled the fire that now nestled itself under the soft fabric of your panties. Thorns trailed down your pubic hair, gliding it out of the way to find what it hunted for. 
You sucked in a breath. Bullseye. 
Damn it, Joseph. You win this time.
“Hey, I just remembered I need to let my dog out,” you sputtered out, wrenching yourself out of your seat. “She’ll pee everywhere if she doesn’t go A-S-A-P. Sorry to cut things short but we’ve gotta run! See ya! Thanks for dinner!”
You threw some bills on the table, grabbing Joseph by the wrist as you hurried out the restaurant door. The driver wouldn’t be there for another ten minutes, but you couldn’t sit there a minute longer. You’d wait outside in the cold. Maybe the freezing air would knock some sense into your horny lover. Probably not.
Joseph wheezed hysterically as you pushed him out of your way to sit on the sidewalk curb. “We don’t even have a dog!”
“Shut up! I panicked. You try thinking straight when vines start massaging your clit halfway into dinner,” you whispered harshly. “You’re a dirty old man, you know that?”
“You’re not really mad at me,” he insisted, taking a seat beside you to rest his suit jacket around your shoulders. “If you were, you'd have thrown me across the room with your stand and torn me a new one. You wanted out of there just as much as I did.”
You scoffed. Was he absolutely correct? Yes. Did a masochistic, voyeuristic part of you want him to tease you until you came underneath the dinner table? Yes. Were you currently sitting in an ever-growing wetness staining your panties? Yes. You had no counterclaim. You were frustrated out of your mind. But the only thing you wanted to do was pull Joseph into the nearest alleyway so he could finish what he started.
“Well, maybe so,” you stuttered out, crossing your arms. “But-”
“But what, sweetheart?” he countered, voice condescendingly sweet as he grabbed your chin with his hand, pulling you close enough to smell his cologne. His thumb teased at your bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to see your tongue bit between your teeth. “But you still want me to grab you right here and fuck you on this street corner? But you still want my hands caressing every centimeter of your body as I pound into you? But what, baby? Tell me.” 
Throwing away the last of your restraint, you pulled his hand away, lips crashing into his hard enough to knock him back. Your hands found his tie, pulling him impossibly closer. You could taste the red wine on his lips intermingling with your champagne-tainted tongue. It was intoxicating.
You didn’t bat an eye at the car pulling up beside the two of you, waving off the honking until you had to break away for air. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you grumbled, pushing yourself off the curb.
“No I’m not,” he replied effortlessly.
“Can you at least pretend to humor me? I’m trying to be in control for once.”
“Just get your ass in the car, sweetheart,” he replied, smacking your ass as you stepped inside. “And when we get home I’ll show you who’s in control.” 
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typhoons-mess · 23 days
Text
On The Edge Sneak Peak
Here is a sneak peak of a story an anon requested. Really excited to show this off soon.
This is a Dagur X AFAB Reader
It felt good being back to the edge after that strenuous training session, as Hiccup would put it. He’s been focusing more on accuracy to make sure we all can hit Vigo’s ships since the double in the last few days. We can’t afford to fail. Astrid landed next to me and dismounted Stormfly landing her feet on the hard wood beneath us. “Well, that session could have been worse.” She sighed out moving a piece of hair out of her eyes.
Letting out a snort as I patted my dragon. “Yeah. The twins could have accidentally set Snotlout on fire from their terrible aims.” Astrid shoulders shake from her laughing.
We continue our chatter as we head down to the ‘hall’ to have dinner with the others. Taking a seat in between Heather and Snotlout we all dig into our meals as Tuff tells us another one of his jokes. “-But somebody better explain how Yak stew got into my pants!” Hitting his palms on the table as he laughs hysterically. The others around laugh as I cover my mouth to contain my chuckles, even Hiccup joins in.
“Hey! Speaking of soggy pants, you ever wonder what happened to Dagur and his crazy pants?” This makes everyone stop laughing and give a confused but stern look to Hiccup’s inquiry. The though of someone mentioning Dagur makes me choke on my drink, which prompted Heather to look my way.
Back on Berk when we were younger, first time Dagur arrived, me and Hiccup were playing together by the cliff sides. Dagur asked if he could play with us, and of course we both agreed since he was a guest. It was nice to have someone different than Hiccup to play with, even if he was a bit rough. One time we decided to race, by choice of Dagur of course. We would run all over the village with Hiccup being in last and Dagur and I running head-to-head with each other leaving the small boy behind. Turning the bend to go into the forest I remember tripping over a branch and scraping my knee. Looking down at the tore in my pants I can see scratches start to weep some specks of blood out. The strangest thing happened though. It was the first time I ever saw Dagur-well concerned for another living being.
“Look your f-fine! Just stop crying and-just here!” He tore off a piece of his clothing and wrapped it around the small wound as I wiped the tears from my eyes. It seemed hard for him to find the right words to comfort me. Looking up at him he blushed as he held out his hand for me to take, lifting me up off of the foliage. Seeing that I was now ok he stomped away as Hiccup came around the corner, panting as he stopped next to me.
“What-what happed?” He asked out of breath.
“I have no clue.” Puzzled I watched as Dagur stormed off to the great hall.
I whipped my mouth as Ruff slightly turns her head to look at Hiccup. “No not really.”
“What brings Dagur up anyway?” Fishlegs says looking puzzled as he puts down his second piece of Yak.
“Nothing!” Putting up his hands in defense,”-but since were on subject of Dagur now-uh-do you ever wonder why he helped Heather escape form Vigo?” Hiccup questions looking at all of us.
“Probably to make a distraction so he could escape himself.” I chimed in wiping my mouth as Astrid nodded with what I said.
“Maybe. I don’t know-“Heather raises her eyebrow in question, “-but was if it was actually the first step toward a new life.” We all tensed up knowing that this would cause an outburst with Heather.
“Hiccup-“I try to warn him to not bring it but got interrupted with Heather slamming her fist down onto the wood of the table.
 “A new life? Dagur? A dragon doesn’t change its marking Hiccup.” The force from the hit knocking her drink onto her lap and mine. Fishlegs tries to intervene with knowledge of some dragons who can actually change their markings.
“You get the point!” She says looking down at her axe in frustration.
“Well, you are probably right, but look at Stoick! Who would have thought he would have ever learned to ride a dragon. I mean it could be possible that he’s changing.”
“Y/N’s right. Y-You never know, next time we see Dagur- “
“I’ll SPLIT THE FATHER KILLER IN TWO!” Slamming her axe into the table right beside her, splitting into into two.
We all stared in silence for a good minute. Afraid saying anything else might make that axe split one of use into two. “Yep. Ok. I-I think we get your point.” Hiccup says a bit frightened like the rest of us. Noticing the thin tension, she makes her way to the door of the clubhouse. “I better go I have island patrol tonight.”
“Actually! I will take that. I have a way more important mission for you and Snotlout! It’s-uh-one final recon mission to check out our target”
“What are you talking about? We went last time.” Snotlout as confused looking between Heather and Hiccup. “I know, that’s why I’m sending you two again to be one the lookout for any last-minute changes. And you should leave. Tonight.”
“Tonight?!” Shouts Snotlout.
“Jeez Hiccup. Are you trying to get rid of us?”
“Yes-NO no that’s crazy why-why would I- “
Heather chuckles, “I’m kidding Hiccup. Relax. Come on Snotlout sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”
“Take your time! And by that, I mean be safe!” He sighs looking back to me and Astrid. We both look at each other puzzled as to what was going on in Hiccup’s head.
When we all left to go to our respected huts for the night, me and Astrid headed out together. “Something seemed off didn’t it. ”Astrid looked puzzled as she asked me. “It could he is just nervous about what’s going to happen soon.” I shrug. Looking at me she mimics the same response, “I guess you could be right.” I give her a sympathetic smile and I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright Astrid. We just have to trust him.” She looks at me and chuckles. As we near our huts we bid each other goodnight and headed inside. Even though I trust Hiccup something did seem off. He never mentioned Dagur this much before. But that could be thought more tomorrow as I sluggishly made way straight to my comfortable bed.
Tomorrow.
I can ask him questions tomorrow.
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redstripstrawberry · 2 years
Text
Competition | Zen x Reader
Summary: An important question that the two of you constantly think about suddenly pops up during some quality time together.
Zen finally has some time off, and you suggest walking in the park near his apartment. A walk, you say, is the best way to spend quality time together. He readily agrees, saying that he'll do whatever if it's together with you. You both get ready putting on your coats and set off, hand in hand.
Zen's arm is wrapped around your arm while you two talk about your day. You mentioned how you found this good book the other day, and he listens. He talks about his new upcoming role and how terrible his current costar is and you listen. It was nice, talking to each other face-to-face instead of texting. Spending the day together like this comes rarely, but you two always make it worthwhile.
The conversation eventually slows down into a comfortable silence. The both of you enjoy the view around you two and the atmosphere of the peaceful park. Sounds of the peaceful ambiance of wind against the leaves and scattered conversations of the people near you take up the welcomed silence. It's serene.
A sudden scream of laughter breaks the silence and you instantly look in its direction. An elderly couple is laughing hysterically: the grandpa has a smug look while his partner bends over with laughter, tears in her wrinkled eyes. Zen also looks over with you, smiling as he sees the scene play out.
"Seems like he's quite a jokester," Zen says, smiling at you. He waits for your input.
"I bet she married him for the jokes."
"Please, [ ], do you really think jokes can be more charming than looks? I'm a better catch, honestly." Zen laughs as he counters your remark. You blush as you realize what he unintentionally implies.
You keep silent, and he notices instantly. "What's wrong-"
"What do you think about it? Marriage?" You interrupt up, shooting your chance. Your eyes focus on his face, trying to find any minuscule reaction.
Now he's the one who's suddenly silent.
He answers back after a pause. "Do you think we are ready?" Zen sounds hesitant, but also eager to know and eager to confirm.
"Well, we're already comfortable with each other, and... we have a good dynamic. I've read that feeling content and easy with each other is an indication that you're ready.." Your voice trails off and you now stare at your feet. This is embarrassing, you think. You glance back at him. You absolutely know that you're mad blushing right now.
Zen smirks at your last sentence.
"You've read..? That makes me relieved to know that you were also thinking about it," and with a slight pause, he corrects himself, "—about us, for a while. I wanted to talk to you about this during our walk but you beat me to it."
The uncertain mood is elevated to a loving one, the both of your faces of worry are replaced with smiles beaming with joy.
"I had it on my mind for a while," you explain, "My friends are teasing me, and I started thinking. I felt that we are at that stage, and I wanted to talk to you about it, but I'm just nervous that I might've scared you if I do, but I also wanted to know."
Zen laughs, "I'm the same." He sighs in relief, chuckling a bit at the end as they breathed out. "But I'm happy to know that you do want to marry me."
You two look at each other, a pinkish tint is forming on both of your faces.
"I guess I'll have to start planning on how to propose to you, then," he tells you, looking forward into the distance.
"Not if I do it first, Zenny," you say with a cheeky look. He whips his eyes back at you instantly, surprised that he heard a wisp of a challenge.
Zen smirks, his eyes full of amusement. He slings back at you in the same tone: "Is this a competition, my love?"
"Whoever successfully surprises the other with a proposal is the winner, and the loser has to marry them. That's our terms," you laugh brightly and loudly, unbeknownst to the people around you. People are looking at you.
"I'll gladly take you on those terms, my dear."
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Text
November 11
Aka my birthday fic for Felix! Dolores wants to make the best possible cake for Felix, with…mixed results. Enjoy!
“Camilo, don’t eat the frosting!” Dolores hissed. 
Camilo groaned and rolled his eyes. “Whyyyy? I just like how it tastes!” he complained as he licked each white frosted finger. 
“You’re disgusting,” Dolores hip bumped him aside. “Hands off my cake.” She continued beating the eggs and letting the yolk fall into the bowl. “Now all I need is the flour.” 
Camilo reached for the flour with his free hand, Dolores taking it. 
“You’re no fun,” Camilo huffed, glaring at her. 
“No, I’m loads of fun, actually,” Dolores protested. “I can be silly too.” She remembered the time she and Antonio were coloring on Camilo’s face as he slept, or the time when she and Mirabel humbled him and Isabela in a pranking contest that lasted weeks. “But unlike you, I know when to be serious.” 
“I can be serious,” Camilo said as he continued eating the frosting. 
Dolores snorted, pouring a cup of milk into the bowl. 
“No, I’m being for real right now. Dolores, look at me. I can be serious.” 
Dolores rolled her eyes and ignored him as she stirred. 
“You’re not looking.” 
Dolores sighed, looking at her baby brother, whose face was forced into a grim frown. 
Dolores blinked at him. “Oh my gosh, Camilo, you’re totally right,” she said sarcastically. “You’re being serious.” 
But that seriousness didn’t last long, as the two siblings burst into laughter, Camilo gripping the edge of the counter for stability, Dolores bending down to the floor as she gripped the bowl and— 
Wait, the bowl? 
Unfortunately, Dolores gripped the bowl as she was falling over laughing even though she meant to grip the counter, and it came tumbling over as she collapsed to the floor in a fit of giddy hysterics. The contents of the would-have-been cake spilling onto her head, dousing her once radiant curls, face, and blouse as she sat on the floor and her laughter ceased. 
Camilo paused, and stared at his sister. 
Dolores lifted her arms and made sure to keep them a good distance away from her body as she shook the disgusting mixture off of her skin, it splattering on the floors and cupboards. Struggling to open her eyes, she felt Camilo pry a tissue into her hands. She grabbed them and began wiping furiously at her eyes until she could see again, but the tissue was barely usable enough to wipe her whole face by the time she was done. 
She felt utterly crushed. Her cake, the birthday cake she had been making for her Papi, was all ruined. And now she’d have to start all over. 
It wasn’t long before she felt tears streaming from her eyes, as she hiccuped and croaked in agony, disgusted with herself as the salty rivers mixed in with the cake mix. 
Camilo didn’t know what to say. 
Dolores could hear her brother bending down to where she was sitting, perching in front of her on his knees as she felt his hands place themselves on her shoulders. 
“Princesa,” he said softly, uttering her pet name. 
“What?” Dolores demanded fiercely. 
“Hey, it’s okay, hermana. The good news is…” 
Dolores listened, waiting for him to say something uplifting. 
And then he began licking the cake mixture off of her face. 
Dolores’ eyes widened in disgust. 
“At least you taste good!” Camilo licked his lips and giggled before leaning in again, but Dolores wasn’t having it. She slapped him across the face with her palm before recoiling in disgust. 
“What the hell, hermanito?” Dolores roared. “The cake was ruined and it’s all your fault!” 
Camilo’s smile faded the instant he was slapped by Dolores. Still clutching his pinkened cheek, he stared up at her with widened, sad eyes. “My fault?” He said, a genuinely grim frown overtaking his boyish features this time. “But how is it—“ 
“Because, dumbass, you were fooling around while I was trying to be serious! I just wanted to make a cake for Papi that I knew he would enjoy, because he’s a total sweet tooth! Everybody knows that! But you had to go and keep up the jester attitude and couldn’t just focus on the damn cake! And then you tried eating it off my face regardless? How am I supposed to be happy?” 
“But Lola,” Camilo sobbed. “I—“ 
“Shut. Up.” 
Camilo felt tears of his own trickling down, for more reasons than one. 
“I’m done.” Dolores stomped off. “I’m taking a shower and then I’m going to my room. I’m done.” 
Dolores wasn’t done of course. She was still going to bake something for Felix, perhaps cupcakes instead of a cake? She just wasn’t going to tell Camilo or let him be in on it. 
“Lola, I’m sorry—“ 
“I said I’m DONE!” 
Camilo froze, watching Dolores storm upstairs, and sighed. 
Mirabel walked out of the bathroom to see Dolores standing there, drenched in a sticky, soft substance. “Woah, prima, are you okay? You look like you got into a fight with a pastry and lost.” 
“I’m fine, move.” Dolores shoved Mirabel aside and slammed the bathroom door. 
“Huh. Oh. All right. Rude.” 
Mirabel walked downstairs to see Camilo cleaning up the kitchen, the messy substance all over the floor, counter, sink, and cupboards looking exactly like what Dolores was covered in. Camilo placed an indigo bowl that was rolling on its side into the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet before wiping the rest of the counter clean. 
He was crying. 
“Camilo?” Mirabel said tentatively. She couldn’t stand to hear another sniffle. 
Camilo wiped his eyes and mouth with a napkin, ignoring his cool-colored cousin. 
“Camilo, are you okay?” Mirabel asked again, trying to get his attention. 
“I’m fine.” Camilo said, turning off the faucet and washing the bowl. 
“You don’t wanna talk about it or anything?” Mirabel tilted her head. “What happened with you and Dolores?” 
“It’s none of your business,” Camilo curtly replied. 
Mirabel crossed her arms. “If you did something to upset her—“ 
Camilo groaned and rolled his eyes. “Of course you take Dolores’ side without even knowing the situation. After all, I’m just a silly little clown who messes everything up, aren’t I Mirab—“ 
“But you did, didn’t you?” 
Freeze. Then Camilo sighed. “Y-yes. And so what?” 
“What happened?” Mirabel asked. 
“We were making a cake for Papi’s birthday. Well, she was making it. I was goofing off like an idiot until I made her spill it.” 
Mirabel chuckled. “Aww, I’m sorry about that, primo. Want me to help you make a new cake?” 
“Hmmm. Can you bake?” 
“Not a bit.” 
“Neither can I.” 
Mirabel sighed. 
“Well anyway I’m going to my room. Goodnight.” 
“You’re taking a nap?” Mirabel asked. 
“Why not?” Camilo said, patting Mirabel on the shoulder. “G’bye.” 
Mirabel shrugged as she watched Camilo strut off to his room. 
🧡
A few hours later, Mariano made his way over to Casita. He had been cleaning his room when he came across a sketchbook that clearly wasn’t his. Recognizing it as Camilo’s based on the art style, he was intent on giving it back to him. 
He walked up the door to Casita, but didn’t even get the chance to knock on the door or ring the doorbell before the door swung open, the tiles clattering in welcome. 
“Hola Casita,” Mariano said, waving with a smile as was tradition to do when entering the sentient house. 
He walked up the stairs to Camilo’s bedroom and knocked on the door. Flipping through the pages, he was indeed impressed at how good Camilo’s artwork was. 
The door opened, and Mariano stepped in, but quickly realized that Camilo hadn’t opened the door but that Casita had done it herself. 
He shuddered. He wasn’t scared of the house by any means, but it was going to take some time to get used to. 
He walked through the multicolored room covered in mirrors until he got to Camilo’s bedside. He saw the boy lying down on his stomach, clutching a blue pillow as he buried his face in it, his breathing soft yet ragged. 
Mariano knew not to trouble him just then, but he did so anyway. 
“Camilo?” He asked tentatively. 
Camilo’s entire body jerked up in shock as his head sprang up, and he placed a hand to his chest. 
“Mariano?” He breathed. “Oh. Hey. Wassup.” He wiped his eyes with his fingers, and Mariano realized he had been crying. “Did you come to see Dolores?” He twirled, shapeshifting into Dolores in a millisecond, and made kissy faces at Mariano while clasping his hands together. 
Mariano’s unnerved face was all Camilo needed to come back to reality. He turned back into himself. “I was just kidding man, chill out.” He laughed weakly. “I have a girlfriend, anyway.” 
“Oh, you do?” Mariano asked. 
Camilo didn’t answer, as he noticed what was in Mariano’s hands. He quickly reached and grabbed it, snatching it angrily and clutching it tightly to his chest like it was helping him to breathe. 
“Why do you have this?!” He freaked out. 
Mariano raised two hands in the air in defense. “Relax. I was only returning it to you. You left it at my house.” 
“Oh.” Camilo said. 
Mariano sat down on the bed. Camilo didn’t invite him to do so, but nonetheless he didn’t make him get up. 
“Your artwork is very nice by the way.” Mariano chuckled. “I couldn’t even begin to draw that way when I was your age. I still can’t. You have a talent, chico. Don’t let it go to waste.” 
“You mean…you looked? Without my permission?” Camilo demanded angrily. 
Mariano blinked and turned to him. “Was I not supposed to?” 
“No! If you want to look next time, you gotta ask first, man! Sheesh. This is why I don’t show anybody anything. Just because I can draw doesn’t mean I want to make a career out of it, y’know? I draw because it’s fun, that’s it. The last thing I want to do is make money from it because then it becomes all about the money and not about doing what I love. I have much better things to do with my life anyway.” 
“Like?” 
“Like none of your business.” Camilo flopped down to lie on his back, hands under his pillow. “Anyway, did you really come to see me or did you just want to see Dolores?” 
“I—“ 
“Because if so she’s already asleep.” 
“Oh. Well, since I’m here, I guess I can talk to you.” Mariano paused, looking at the book which was resting on Camilo’s stomach, moving with each inhale and exhale. “Can I see your artwork, ¿por favor?” 
“No.” 
“Oh, well, that’s okay. I respect that. So, why were you crying?” 
Camilo was silent for a long time, eyes staring at the ceiling. 
“Cami—“ 
Camilo shoved the book in his hands. “Sure, actually.” 
Mariano turned his head down towards the book, then back to Camilo, who rolled his eyes and gestured towards the book with his head. 
“What, do you, do you want me to take it back?” He stretched up from his position lying face up and reached with his right arm for the book, but Mariano held it out of his grasp. 
“No, I…I want to see what’s in it.” 
“Oh, okay.” 
Mariano took a deep breath, then flipped through the pages of the book. He was rather impressed with what he saw in it. Although he was aware of Camilo’s eyes being fixated on him, he didn’t allow himself to become too tense as he admired each and every human portrait. Camilo didn’t just draw his family and friends, but random people he saw walking about in the Encanto as well. 
“Wow, you sure do draw your sister a lot.” Mariano smiled, a blush spreading across his cheeks at the loveliest portrait of Dolores smiling and eating an arepa he had ever seen. “As well as you and her.” 
“She’s not the only person I draw, but yeah.” Camilo nodded. “I draw her a lot because she’s pretty and I love her.” 
Mariano nodded. “I agree.” 
“Of course you do,” Camilo yawned and rolled his head to the side, as well as his eyes, as Mariano continued to look through the book. He chuckled as he saw a picture of Mirabel with her arms wrapped around Camilo’s neck, biting his ear as said older cousin winced, and flipped to see a drawing of— 
Him. 
One of him smiling a dashing, bedazzling grin as hearts were scribbled around his head. 
He paused awkwardly. 
Camilo sensed his tenseness and instantly sprang up, seeing the picture. “Th-that was then!” He stuttered, squeaking. “I—I’m over…that…now! Like I said, I have a girlfriend! And I’m happy with her! Hm!” 
“Okay.” Mariano pretended that little…scenario…never happened as he continued to look through the pictures. One was of Isabela sleeping. “Did you actually draw this when she was asleep?” He asked. 
“Huh? Oh yeah. She looked so peaceful and happy. I had to capture it. I thought she would kill me when she found it, but she was very happy, actually, and gave me the biggest hug and kiss. Heh. Which was kind of embarrassing, actually.” 
“I see,” Mariano said as he continued combing through the pictures. “Oh! And is this your girlfriend?” He asked, gesturing to a picture of a cute young Black girl with her hair in a low puff, and who was sitting sideways on the floor, smiling. 
“Uh…” Camilo blushed, heat rising around his collar as he tugged it. “Y-yeah. Her name’s Emiliana.” 
“Oh? Well, she is quite lovely.” 
Camilo giggled sheepishly. “I know right, she is, I’m so lucky!” 
Mariano smiled at Camilo, who blushed and flipped his ruana to cover his face, and went right on looking. “Wow. You draw her a lot. Something tells me you really do love her.” 
Camilo smiled. “Of course I do! I wouldn’t be dating her if I wasn’t utterly in love with her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me in a good long while. You know, on our last date, we…” 
Camilo continued to ramble on about him and his wonderful girlfriend, Mariano pretending to listen by nodding along as he continued looking at the artwork. One had Pepa and Felix holding hands with a younger Camilo in the middle of them. Another had two random kids from Camilo’s school, another had Julieta handing Dolores a pandebono. Another had Emiliana and Mirabel. 
But the last picture was the one Mariano liked the most. A picture of Dolores, Camilo, and Antonio, each sitting behind the other. Camilo was styling Antonio’s hair in cornrows, Dolores doing the same to Camilo’s own hair. 
It made Mariano smile and wipe the tears from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he did such things with his siblings. 
Camilo noticed his tearing up and sat up.“Huh…yeah, we do that a lot. You know, after we were done, I gave Dolores cornrows myself. Since after all there’s only three of us.” He awkwardly took the sketchbook from Mariano. “Aaaanyway, that’s enough of my show-stopping talent for today.” 
Mariano nodded. 
“What, are you crying? Duuuude,” Camilo giggled and bumped the man with his shoulder playfully. “There’s no need for the waterworks, bro. I’m proud of my artwork too.” 
“It’s not that, it’s…my siblings don’t…they don’t like me.” 
“Huh, how come? I mean, you’re a totally awesome guy!” 
“You think so?” 
“Well yeah, tonto! Except when you’re insecure about yourself, like you’re doing right now!” 
“Thanks, chico. But…lately my sisters and brother and I haven’t been on good terms lately the way we used to. I’m not really comfortable going into how and why this happened, but…nowadays it’s like I barely even know them anymore. And that’s part of the reason I moved out too, because literally nobody in my family wants anything to do with me except for my little sister who begged to come along, she’s my best friend, and also because my Abuela really needs someone to take care of her. So seeing you be close with your sister and brother despite the large age gap makes me so happy.” He ruffled Camilo’s hair as if Camilo were his own little brother, making him grin. “Please never, ever lose that.” 
“Awww, thanks,” Camilo smiled. “But I’m afraid I’ve already lost that.” 
“What do you mean?” Mariano asked. 
“Well…” Camilo bowed his head to the ground, staring into his lap. “We were going to make a cake for my dad’s birthday, hmm? And I didn’t really take it seriously and I spilled the cake mixture all over her and it’s all my fault.” 
“Hey, chin up, chico!” Mariano said, lightly patting his shoulder. “It’s just a tiny mistake. You can always make the cake again. Just take it seriously this time!” 
“But she said she’s done. She doesn’t want to make the cake anymore.” Camilo’s emerald green eyes glistened with tears that stung to the bottom of his eyelids and dampened his lashes. “That’s..that’s why I was crying earlier. I feel like such a disappointment, like I’m a terrible little brother. I should have helped princesa with the cake and not tried to mess everything up with those stupid jokes of mine. And now she’s mad at me. I wanna say sorry but…she won’t talk to me. And now she’s asleep.” 
Mariano gazed down at the young teen sympathetically. And that’s when he had an idea. 
“Hey,” he stood up and took Camilo’s hand. “How about you and I make a cake for your Papa? If you’re still up to it, that is. Maybe that can make up for you failing to help Dolores. While still having something for your Papa to enjoy on his birthday? That sounds like a good idea, no?” 
Camilo paused and thought about it. “I…I guess so. Sure!” 
“Great!” The two males exited Camilo’s room and shut the door behind them. 
“But we should go to your house,” Camilo said. “Because Dolores is gonna wake up any minute, now.” 
“Oh really?” Mariano asked. “How do you know?” He grinned. “Do you have super hearing?” 
“Oh no. I’m just her brother. That’s all.” 
Mariano chuckled, nodded, and then the two left.
🧡
Just as they were closing the door to Casita behind them, Dolores did wake up. 
She yawned before slipping out of bed and walking up to her vanity. Frowning at her reflection, she noticed that her hair was messed up. She had to fix that. And not to mention she wanted to do her makeup too. 
About half an hour later, she left her room to go brush her teeth and use the bathroom. Throughout all of this, there was something that she had forgotten to do, but she wasn’t sure what. 
It was only when she was absentmindedly heading downstairs that she remembered. She was going to bake something for Papa’s birthday! 
Hopefully Camilo wasn’t going to interrupt her plans. 
She got downstairs to the kitchen, which had been miraculously cleaned up and polished, with all evidence of her and Camilo’s earlier baking accident completely nonexistent. She guessed someone else must have come across the disaster in the kitchen and cleaned it up because they wanted to use the kitchen too. After all, it wasn’t like Camilo to fix what he left behind. 
“Yes!” Dolores said to herself, hurrying to get the mixing bowl, milk, eggs, white sugar, and baking powder out of the various cupboards. “This is the perfect opportunity to—“ she hiccuped. 
Crap. Dolores hated when she got the hiccups. Once that happened, it always took forever for them to go away. 
She poured herself a glass of water, and downed it all in one gulp. 
“Anyway. This is the perfect opportunity to bake something that I know Papa will enjoy!” 
She took out Julieta’s cookbook and flipped through the pages. 
“Hmmm. I think I’ll make tres leches cake. Yeah. Papa will enjoy that!” 
She preheated the oven to 175 degrees Celsius, then took out a 10-by-15 baking dish and began greasing it. Now she was ready. 
Beating the egg whites into a bowl, Dolores was happy to make this delicious cake for Papa. She was especially glad that Camilo wasn’t here to “help” her and ruin the whole thing. She was, in fact, so focused on the cake that she didn’t even know where Camilo was. She guessed he was in his room, wallowing in his misery and the fact that he wasn’t able to take anything seriously(not that that was her problem). But if she had actually listened, she would know that Camilo was at Mariano’s house and was currently taking baking a cake with him very, very seriously. 
It wasn’t long before Mirabel came into the room. “Hey, prima. What’s up?” 
Dolores didn’t acknowledge Mirabel at first, adding vanilla extract to the mixing bowl as her head stretched to look at the recipe dictated in her Tia’s cookbook, muttering and mumbling something to herself. She was so lost in focusing that she didn’t even notice her cousin was there. Mirabel almost wondered if Dolores even heard her. 
“Mmm…I should add more flower.” 
Mirabel walked over to her prima daintily and tapped her on the shoulder. 
“Go away Camilo. I don’t want to deal with you today.” 
“I’m not Camilo.” 
Dolores turned around to look at Mirabel. “You sure?” 
“I’m sure.” 
Dolores tuned in to listen to Camilo, who was entering Mariano’s house. “Oh.” 
“So you’re making a cake?” Mirabel peered over Dolores’ shoulder. 
“Yes,” Dolores said, moving so that Mirabel couldn’t see. “By myself. I’m not having Camilo help me because the last time he tried to help he ruined it. So if you don’t mind…” 
“Why can’t I help?” Mirabel frowned. 
“Because I can’t risk any more freak accidents,” Dolores stated flatly. 
“I won’t let that happen!” 
Dolores rolled her eyes as she stirred the bowl, tasted some of the cake batter, then frowned and went back to the fridge. “Needs more milk.” She took milk out of the fridge and poured some into the bowl. 
Mirabel, for some reason, continued on talking. “Please, I promise I won’t mess up! I’m not like your brother. I’m not accident-prone and I won’t mess everything up! I just wanna help!” 
Dolores sighed. “Ugh. Fine. But you must follow my every instruction to a T. Got it?” 
“Of course Dolores!” Mirabel perked up, beaming. 
“Great!” Dolores gestured with her hand for Mirabel to step over to the kitchen counter, which she did. 
Meanwhile, Mariano had invited Camilo into his house. The two were in the kitchen, ready to cook something for Felix. 
“So, what shall we bake?” Mariano asked. 
Camilo pondered, flipping through the cookbook that Mariano has provided for him. 
“Ooh!” Mariano stopped Camilo from flipping to point at a recipe for brazo de reina. “We could make that—“ 
“Can’t eat fruits.” 
“Oh. Sorry.” 
“It’s okay, man. Look, how about we make Enyucado?” 
“Enyucado? I’ve never had that…” 
“Well, of course you haven’t,” Camilo snorted in condescension. “It’s something mi Abuela on my father’s side used to make him and his siblings, and is from the Caribbean region.” Placing the book to lean upright against the back part of the counter, clearly Camilo was insistent on making this, not accepting disagreement from the older man. “Dolores and I had it all the time when we were kids and it was delicious! But I stopped because I kept getting it stuck in my teeth and it made me cry.” 
“Wait, but what about the coconuts and guava jam? Aren’t those in the ingredients?” 
Camilo blinked, then shrugged. “I guess we’re just going to have to make it without them, I guess.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah bro, I’ve been eating it like that for years.” The younger boy glanced up at his sister’s fiancé in disbelief. “Wait, have you really never eaten this before?” 
Mariano shook his head. 
“Shut up.” 
Mariano shrugged awkwardly. 
“Shut UP!” Camilo’s eyes glistened as he was on the verge of laughter. 
“I didn’t say anything.” 
“Well, anyway, you’re really missing out. So let’s start making it now!” 
Mariano nodded. 
🧡
Dolores opened the oven to take out the cake. “It’s ready Mira.” 
Mira placed her cards down—she was so close to winning!—and sprang up to join Dolores in the kitchen. 
“Is it good?” 
“Only one way to find out!” Dolores took a toothpick and stuck it into the cake. Taking it out, she was relieved to see that the cake was indeed baked properly. 
“Awesome!” Dolores celebrated. “Now all we have to do is wait fifteen minutes before we get to the best part, which is pouring the milk on the cake. 
Mirabel giggled. “I can’t wait!” 
Fifteen minutes later, the girls had mixed the cream, sweetened condensed milk, and evaporated milk and poured them onto the cake. They then added the whipped cream and cinnamon frosting. 
“And now we’re all done,” Dolores finally stated, as she refrigerated the cake. “Wow. That was a lot of fun!” 
“It was!” Mirabel squeaked. “See, I told you I could help you make the perfect cake for Tío! He’ll be so surprised, I just know he’ll enjoy it, and Mami will too!” 
“I know, mi prima, I know.” Dolores reached out to give Mirabel a hug, which she reciprocated. “I’m sorry I assumed you wouldn’t be of any help. I shouldn’t have judged you. Without you, I wouldn’t have made the cake as quickly, and it sure wouldn’t have been as fun either. Some things are best done in a team! And a team in which both partners care about the outcomes too!” She kissed Mirabel softly on the forehead. “Thank you for helping me make the cake, I couldn’t be more appreciative.” 
“You’re wel—“ 
“Cake? What cake?” 
The girls froze and looked up. Dolores gulped. Standing right before the two cousins…was their father and uncle. 
“Oh, hey Papa!” Dolores stammered. “What’s up?” 
“Oh, I just wanted to talk to my lovely princesas!” Felix walked up to stand between them and wrapped an arm around both girls. “Is that such a bad thing?” 
“No, not at all!” Mirabel said, shaking in her boots. They had to take out the cake in an hour so that they could properly wrap it in aluminum foil, but they couldn’t do that with Felix there… 
“So, what are you girls making?” Felix asked. “I hear you two made cake! I sure do love a good slice of cake! Can I have some?” He turned to Dolores, grinning and leering closer mischievously. “Hmm?” 
“Oh, I’d love to, Papa, but umm, me and Mirabel already had the last slice.” 
“Oh, I see.” Felix removed his arms from around his daughter’s and niece’s waists. “Well, that’s a bummer. I suppose I have to wait till my birthday then.” 
This was where Dolores and Mirabel started to panic. “B-b-b—“ 
Felix frowned, looking sad. “Aww, don’t tell me you forgot my birthday, chicas.” 
“Oh no, Tío, we didn’t!” It’s just that—“ 
“It’s just that what?” Felix asked them, looking as disappointed as ever. 
Dolores was on the verge of tears. She knew she had to keep this a surprise, but how could she say no to her father’s adorable sad eyes? She almost wanted to comfort him by letting him have a peek of some of the cake. Or even a tiny slice. But then that would ruin the surprise for when his actual birthday arrived. But leaving Felix alone felt equally guilty. 
Mirabel was still trying to come up with a solution. “Well…” 
“Papa!” That’s when the door opened. 
“Yes, mijo?” Felix asked, Camilo running around the kitchen to join his papa on the other side. 
Camilo wrapped Felix in a hug, then took him by the shoulders and bounced up and down. “Oh, papa papa papa, you won’t believe it! So I was at the store today, right? And I was going through the clothing isles, and I saw—“ he paused to take a deep breath, his fingers fluttering about as he grinned In ecstasy, tears stinging around his eyes as he fanned himself. “I saw the cutest ruana I ever laid my eyes on!!! And I wanted to buy it so badly, but I didn’t have enough pesos. It’s even orange, just like the shirt you wear, Pa!” 
“Really?” Felix asked, raising an eyebrow as he grinned. 
“Really! Yes! And it reminded me of you, so I begged the shopkeeper to keep it on hold for me while I ran to get my dad, and it’s the last one in stock too so this is a really big deal! So can you please buy it for me?” 
Felix looked at the girls, who were confused but quickly nodded their heads. 
“Oh, all right, son. You seem to be the only one who wants to spend time with me, lately.” 
“Yay!” Camilo beamed, grabbed Felix’s hand, and ran away. “Then let’s go now! Because he said that if I’m not back in twenty minutes sharp he’s gonna give the ruana to the boy who was behind me in line.” 
“Oh, that can’t be good,” Felix said. 
They went out the door, Camilo winking at his sister and cousin before closing it behind them. 
And Mirabel and Dolores were nonetheless stunned. 
“Did he just…help us?” Mirabel asked. 
“Seems like it.” Dolores was frozen in shock. Finally breaking out of her catatonic state, she shook her head violently. “Ah well, he probably has some ulterior motives, you know how it is.” 
🧡
Felix walked at a quick pace behind his son who was running and panting. “Wait for me, Camilo, your father’s turning 52, his old bones don’t work like they used to.” 
“Come on, Papa, don’t be a dinosaur,” Camilo retorted. “I really want that ruana!” 
“I can tell,” Felix said. 
When they finally got to the store, Felix noticed that Camilo was sweating bullets, and not the kind that come from overexerting yourself.  
“Camilo?” Felix asked. “Are you okay?” 
“Huh? Oh, y-yeah.” Camilo gulped, wondering how he was going to get out of this lie. 
“Where’s the ruana you want?” Felix asked. 
“I-I don’t remember, I have to go find it.” 
“Okay, take your time. I’ll wait here while you go search.” Felix waited at the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed. 
Camilo nodded awkwardly and went into the clothing isle. But all he saw were…dresses? Whoops. Never mind. He was in the women’s clothing aisle. He went to the men’s clothing aisle. 
Secretly he had lied to his father about a ruana that didn’t exist. Both so that he could cover for Mirabel and Dolores and so that his father wouldn’t know he was at Mariano’s house also baking a cake that was for his birthday. What was he to do? 
All the ruanas he saw were pink, yellow, green, brown, blue, purple, and red. Not a single orange one. And he already had a yellow ruana, and he didn’t want to look like Bruno. 
He walked out of the aisle sadly, ready to tell his father that the ruana had already been bought by someone else, and that was when he saw it. 
The orange ruana. 
Camilo almost choked up when he saw it. Sure, he had lied. But fate decided to show him mercy and he was glad it did. Because that was the most beautiful ruana he had ever seen. The texture, the patterns, the size, the warmth, it was too good to be true. He had to get his hands on it. Now. 
But he was out of luck. Because the glorious, perfect ruana was already being held by someone else. Only it wasn’t a boy like Camilo had randomly claimed. 
It was a girl. Yamilet Gonzalez. Aka one of Camilo’s friends, and Mirabel’s girlfriend. 
Yamilet blinked when she saw him. “O-oh, hey Camilo, what’s up?” 
“Hi, Yamilet. Mind if I…have this?” He started to awkwardly pull the ruana out of her hands. But Yamilet pulled it away from him. 
“N-no, sorry Camilo, b-but I’m buying this ruana already. In fact, I’m…I’m about to do so now. S-so if you don’t mind.” 
“NO!” Camilo roared. 
Yamilet blinked. Her girlfriends cousin was acting a little bit…off…today. “Excuse me?” She asked. 
“That’s mine!” Camilo noticed Felix walking over to Yamilet and him and, in a panic, reached for the ruana, attempting to tug it from Yamilet’s arms. “Yami, please, just give it to me! If you were really my friend, you’d realize that this is important to me! Just…” 
“B-but Camilo, I want it, I saw it f-first, why can’t you just let me have it!” 
“You did NOT see it first, I did!” 
“No you did n-not! You did not!” Yamilet wrestled Camilo’s clawing fingers away. “The-there are so many other ruanas in this store that you can buy. Why can’t you just let me h-ha-have this one?” 
Felix walked up to the squabbling pair. “Is everything okay?” 
“No, everything is not okay!” Camilo said. “I really want that ruana but Yamilet won’t give it to me!” 
“But I saw it first.” 
“Wait,” Felix said to Camilo. “Camilo, before we left, you said that the shopkeeper agreed to let you leave the store, come back, and buy the ruana. So how come Yamilet has it? Did you tell the truth?” 
“Yes I did!” Camilo basically sobbed. 
Yamilet rolled her eyes. 
“Okay, then, go ask the shopkeeper.” 
Camilo gulped, but did as he was told. As he made his way towards the register with shaking legs, Felix turned his attention towards Yamilet. “I’m so sorry about my son, he can get a little wild sometimes.” 
“Oh, tell me about it,” Yamilet said. “Mirabel told me all about the time when he—never mind. Anyway, I really want to buy this ruana because—“ 
“What? But—“ Camilo became flustered. “You said I could come back and buy it.” 
“I never told you that, even once.” The shopkeeper shook her head. “This is your fist time coming to the store today, Camilo.” 
Camilo paused, and turned to his father and Yamilet. Neither looked pleased. 
“Hold on, I thought you said that the shopkeeper was a man.” 
“You’re probably in the wrong shop,” Yamilet said. 
Camilo glared at Yamilet. “Yami, if you don’t give me the ruana, I’m gonna tell Mirabel to break up with you.” 
Yamilet just laughed at that. Then walked up to the cash register. 
“Let’s go home, Camilo,” Felix said, but Camilo refused. 
“Fine!” He sassed towards Yamilet in a mocking manner, Yamilet pretending not to listen. “That ruana won’t even look good on you! I mean, it’s orange, after all. And everybody knows that orange doesn’t go well with purple! So you’re the one who’s gonna look like an idiot!” 
“Camilo, that’s enough, let’s go!” 
That’s when Yamilet turned around. “Huh? It’s not even for me…it’s for my sister’s boyfriend.” 
Camilo paused. “What?” 
Yamilet sighed. “H-his birthday is in two days and I still d-don’t have a gift, but I know he-he’d like…this. So I came to buy it for h-him. I mean, it’s not like I have any oth-other options…” 
Felix turned to look at Camilo disapprovingly. Camilo walked up to Yamilet and wrapped her in a hug. “Yamilet, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 
“I know.” 
“Do you believe me? Do you believe me when I say I’m sorry?”  
“Yeah.” 
“Okay. Please…I’m really sorry. Buy the ruana. But all the ruanas you want. Make your sister’s boyfriend proud. I’ll…I’ll live.” He sniffled. “I am so sorry about my outburst, Yamilet. I was just very scared and lashed out because…” he whispered something into Yamilet’s ear that Felix couldn’t hear. “But that’s no excuse for my actions. Please promise you’ll forgive me. Promise!” 
“I promise.” 
Camilo smiled, crying tears of joy. 
“And if it makes you feel better, I can help you buy another ruana next time!” 
“That would be nice.” 
The shopkeeper cleared her throat. “Umm, excuse me, señorita, but are you still going to make an order?” 
“Oh of course!”
🧡
“Come on, Mama,” Mirabel said as she and Dolores led Julieta into the kitchen and showed her the cake. “You’ve gotta see the cake that me and Dolores made. You’re gonna love it!” 
“Okay!” Julieta said as she found her way into the kitchen. 
“Since you’re such a good baker, Tia, I decided to try my hand at it as well. And Mirabel offered to help me, and together we made torta de tres leches. Since Papa is out I would love for you to take a look and see if it’s good.” 
Dolores and Mirabel took out the cake, showing it to Julieta.  
Julieta examined the cake. 
“Do you think she will like it?” Dolores whispered to Mirabel, while Mirabel only shrugged. 
Fortunately, Julieta gave her a thumbs up. “It looks all right to me!” 
“Yay!” Mirabel and Dolores cheered as they clapped and embraced each other in a hug. 
“This is gonna be the best birthday surprise ever!” Dolores cheered. 
“Yeah, Tío isn’t expecting us to make the cake for him. He’ll probably think Mami made it or something. 
“Yeah!” Dolores turned to her Tia. “Oh. Thanks Tia Julieta,” she said as she put the cake back in the fridge. 
“No problem.” 
It was just as Julieta walked away that Felix and Camilo came in through the front door. 
“Oh, chicas, you’re still here?” Felix asked. 
“Y-yes,” they responded in unison. 
“Did you get the ruana?” Mirabel quickly made an effort to change the subject. 
Felix sighed. “Sadly, no,” he said, feeling at his hair. 
“Your girlfriend got it before I did,” Camilo said. “She said it was for her brother. Or her sister’s boyfriend. Whatever. So I let her have it because, you know.” He shrugged. 
“Wait,” Dolores remembered something. “Didn’t you cause a fit in the store because she wouldn’t give the ruana to you?! And also say that you were gonna tell Mirabel to break up with her if she didn’t?” 
“HE WHAT?!” Mirabel roared. 
Camilo turned pale, “B-but I apologized, I, Mira, hey! What’s going on, querida?” 
“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” Mirabel hollered at Camilo. “YOU SAID WHAT TO MY GIRLFRIEND?!” 
Mirabel chased Camilo around the house. “I’m sorry!” He cried out. 
“SORRY ISN’T ENOUGH!” Mirabel seethed. 
Dolores smiled and watched an angry Mirabel chase a screaming Camilo out of Casita. Chuckling to herself, she went back upstairs to her room to wrap her gift for Felix. 
🧡
At last, it was Felix’s birthday, and Dolores was more than excited. She could hardly wait for everyone to try her and Mirabel’s cake, and most of all, Felix! 
Unlike most days, Dolores was the first to jump out of bed and get ready, running trough the halls and knocking on everyone’s doors, telling them quietly, “Get up everyone, it’s Papi’s birthday!” 
Mirabel was the first to get up. “He’s gonna try our cake and he’s gonna love it!” 
“I know, right?” Dolores squeaked. 
Pepa woke up next. “Morning, mijas!” she said, wrapping Dolores and Mirabel in a hug and a kiss and ruffling Mirabel’s hair. “Today’s a very special day, is it not?” 
“Of course, Mami!” Pepa said. “Today is Felix’s birthday!!” 
“Oh, it is! You remembered!” Pepa joked with a giggle. “Well, we’d better hurry up and get the rest of the familia!” 
And so they did, hurrying downstairs and setting the table, the rest of the family coming downstairs eventually, doing the same. 
“Is Tío coming down yet?” Isabela asked restlessly. 
“Almost!” Dolores told her prima-hermana. She listened for Felix, who was coming downstairs. “All right, now it’s time everyone!” They moved to stand in front of the stairway Felix was coming down from. “Here comes the birthday man!” 
It was then that Felix came down, yawning. “Huh, what’s everyone—“ 
“Cumpleaños feliz, te deseamos a tí, Feliz cumpleaños a Felix, feliz cumpleaños a tí! Que los cumpla feliz, que los vuelva a cumplir, que los siga cumpliendo, hasta el año tres mil!” 
“Happy birthday, Papa!” Dolores exclaimed, clapping and cheering with the rest of the family, who all looked as excited as ever! 
Felix looked surprised. “My my, you all have really done so much!” 
“And we’re just getting started!” Bruno said. “We hope you have a happy birthday, amigo!” 
Dolores and Mirabel ran up to Felix and gave him a big hug. Felix chuckled and hugged them back, kissing them both on the foreheads. 
Bruno hugged him next. “You’re 52 man, already! Pffft, making me feel so small. How’s it feel?” 
“I suppose I feel…a year older, and a year wiser.” 
Bruno laughed, Pepa giving Felix a hug and a kiss. “Happy birthday, el hombre mas guapo en el universo. I have a special birthday treat prepared for you tonight,” she uttered in a hushed seductive tone. Felix grinned and cleared his throat, while adjusting his collar, and everybody else laughed along, Dolores covering her face, Mirabel’s and Luisa’s mouths hanging wide open, Isabela squealing quietly as she covered her face with her hands and shook to and fro, and Camilo pretending to gag. Antonio didn’t know what was going on, but he laughed along anyway. 
Agustin have him a birthday hug. “You’re like a brother to me, do you know that?” 
“Likewise, hermano!” Felix said, hugging Agustin closely back, enough to even choke. 
“And we’ll always be grateful that you’re part of the family Madrigal,” Alma said, grinning widely from ear to ear at her son-in-law. 
“We sure will!” Bruno agreed. 
As they sat down to eat, Dolores of course sitting next to her father, Felix engaged in small talk with Agustin on the other side of him. While Dolores beamed with anticipation for the evening party. 
🧡
“And now it’s time for the cake!” Julieta announced. 
Everyone cheered, including Mariano, whom Dolores has graciously invited to the party. He was, after all, soon to be part of the family. It made sense to be there to celebrate his future father-in-law’s birthday. 
With an arm wrapped lovingly around his fiancée’s waist, he whispered to her “The cake you made? I’m sure it’s very good!” 
“I know it is!” Dolores hissed back. “But shhhh! Don’t tell him it was mine!” She placed a finger over his lip, and the young couple giggled. 
Tia Julieta placed the cake before Felix, who was seated in Abuela’s chair with the family around him  He blew out the candle, the family clapping and whooping as Pepa cupped her husband’s face in her hands, kissing him on the cheek, nose, forehead, and lips. A rainbow hovered over Dolores’ parents’ heads, before Pepa parted from him and allowed him to cut the cake. 
Everyone waited for him to take a bite. “Mmm! It’s good! So delicious!” 
Dolores bit her knuckle in glee, her and Mirabel exchanging an ecstatic glance. 
“Julieta, you have truly outdone yourself.”
“Agreed!” Isabela perked up obliviously. 
“Oh, I actually didn’t make this cake!” Julieta stated. “Though I’m glad you enjoy it, I simply cannot take the credit for someone else’s hard work!” 
It was silent in La Casa Madrigal. Even the floor tiles didn’t make a sound. 
Then a quiet giggle could be heard. Confused, everyone turned towards Dolores, the source of the girlish sound. 
“It was me Papa!” Dolores revealed. 
“And me, Tío!” Mirabel chirped. 
“Yeah!” Dolores and Mirabel wrapped an arm around each other as Dolores continued. “We made the cake! It’s what we were nervous to tell you! We just wanted to keep it a secret!” 
“Surprise!” The girls said simultaneously. 
Felix was elated, standing up to make his way towards the girls, he extended his arms as they too flounced towards him. “Come here, mis vidas!” The three formed a big bear hug! 
Camilo frowed, looking at Mariano, who shrugged, then at Felix. “Nice how you still made a cake anyway even though you said you were done trying to make one!” 
“I did, didn’t I?” Dolores shrugged. “Sorry about that, chiquito.” 
“Oh, I should have seen this coming. Thank you, my beautiful girls!” Felix wiped a tear from his eye. 
“You’re welcome, Papa/Tío!” Dolores and Mirabel said simultaneously. 
“Come, come!” Felix ushered the two towards the head of the table. “You girls get to be the first to have slices!” 
Dolores and Mirabel were elated, as Felix cut slices for each of them. 
He were right. It was good. 
“Wow, we did a really good job, Mira!” Dolores said, holding up her palm. 
“Indeed we did!” Mirabel said, high-fiving Dolores back. 
While all this was happening, Camilo was shoving Mariano into the kitchen. 
“What are we gonna do?” Camilo asked. 
“What do you mean?” 
“It’s just, I just realized I didn’t exactly think this through. The last thing I wanted was to try to show Dolores up, and now we have TWO cakes!” 
“Two cakes are better than one, no?” Mariano whispered. “And it’s not like we have a choice. I’m sure he’ll love your cake just as much as he loves your sister and cousin’s one.” 
“Our cake, man,” Camilo corrected as he punched Mariano lightly in the shoulder. “Take some credit. And I guess you’re right. Come on, let’s get this cake out and show it to my dad.” 
The rest of the family, meanwhile, was delightedly enjoying Dolores and Mirabel’s cake. 
“This is so good!” Pepa beamed, sunshine radiating off of her face as she pulled Dolores in for a hug with her free hand. “I couldn’t be prouder of you. You too, chiquita!” She pulled away from Dolores to give the same physical display of affection to Mirabel. 
“I love it so much, too!” Agustin agreed. “You both have truly outdone yourselves. It’s as good as Julieta’s cakes!” 
This made the girls beam, as they turned to look at Julieta. Rather than being offended, the woman merely laughed in agreement. 
“I knew it would turn out excellent, didn’t I?” 
Luisa also enjoyed her slice, feeding some of it to Antonio, who was perched like a baby canary on her lap. Seeing Dolores looking at him, the brother and sister duo made eye contact as he gave her two thumbs up. 
And that’s when Camilo and Mariano came in, holding another cake. 
“We made a cake too!” Camilo announced. 
Dolores and Mirabel froze. They had not expected this turn of events, no, not even Dolores, with her super-hearing, had even bothered to listen to what Camilo was up to at Mariano’s house the same night she was making a cake with Mirabel. And how did they get the cake into Casita’s kitchen without anyone else noticing? She guessed it just have been the night before the celebration, when even she and her ears were asleep. But either way that didn’t make her any less irritated. 
“Awesome!” Julieta said, as the rest of the family, including Felix of course, paid attention to the second cake. 
“Mariano? You helped make this?” Felix asked. 
“I sure did, señor!” Mariano huffed with pride. 
Felix grinned. “That’s wonderful! I always knew you were a family man!” 
“And it’s Enyucado!” Camilo added. “Your favorite from when you were small!” 
“Oh, yes!” Camilo found himself buried in an avalanche of his father’s affections very quickly. “Mi chico guapo, you know me so well!” 
“I do.” 
Felix wrapped Mariano in a hug as well, not willing to let his contribution go unnoticed. “Thank you as well, Mariano!” 
“You’re welcome!” 
That’s when Dolores cleared her throat. “How nice of you to make Papa another cake behind my back after dramatically flunking the one we were going to make together.” 
Mirabel snorted. 
“Hey, it was Mariano’s idea!” Camilo said, pointing at him with both index fingers. “If you’re looking for someone to be wrongfully mad at, blame your future husband. And besides, you said you weren’t going to make another one. How was I supposed to know you were lying?” 
“Whatever, hermanito.” 
The two shot each other daggers across the table as Felix cut himself a slice and bit into it. 
It was now or never. 
Felix finally swallowed, and everyone awaited his decision with bated breath. 
Then he said. “Mmm! It’s delicious!” 
Camilo’s eyes lit up, as Dolores’ eyelid twitched. “Wow! Really? You think so?” 
“Of course, mi corazon! Great job, both of you. Here, have a slice!” He gave a smiling Camilo and Mariano two plates and cut them slices of the cake. 
Mariano winked at Dolores, Dolores forcing a smile back. 
Upon biting into his slice of the cake, Camilo beamed. “Wow, it really is good!” 
“Agreed,” Mariano murmured through a full mouth before clearing his throat and swallowing. “It’s delightful. I’m so glad we made this, Camilo.” 
Dolores disagreed. 
“Me too. Thanks, man!” Camilo said, giving Mariano a hip bump. “I really couldn’t have done this without you.” 
Mariano chuckled. Normally the sound of her love’s joy would make Dolores feel serene and content, but she was too distracted. 
“They can’t both be equally good, though. Papa, which one is better?” 
“Lola, it’s not a competition!” Camilo condescended, pretending to sound more mature. “Although…if I had to pick, it would be mine.” 
“Liar!” Dolores exclaimed. “There is no way your cake is better than the one mi primita and I made. Just accept it, Camilo!” 
“Well, I suppose your cake is…okay, at best. But ours is clearly better? Isn’t it, Mariano?” 
“Umm.” Mariano chose to stay out of this sibling squabble. And wisely so. 
Dolores chuckled darkly, without mirth. “Oh, so you think you can betray me and join forces with my boyfriend to make a cake that will be better than the one I made with Mirabel?! You got another thing coming, Camilo.” 
“Oh yeah, well—“ 
The two started bickering back and forth, the rest of the family watching the drama unfold, Mirabel shrinking away to go stand beside Isa. 
“ALL RIGHT!” 
Both kids fell silent when Felix spoke. 
Felix cleared his throat. “I’m being honest when I say this. And it’s my birthday, so let me be the judge. I think both your cakes are equally delicious. I promise you!” 
Dolores blinked. 
Camilo blinked. 
Then they went back to squabbling with each other. 
Felix sighed and rubbed his temple in irritation. He had had enough. 
“Children—“ Alma said, but for once, the two were too deep into their arguing back-and-forth to listen. 
“Did you even try each other’s cakes?” 
Dolores and Camilo both came to a screeching halt just then. 
Dolores awkwardly gulped. “Umm, no, Papi, we didn’t. Hm!” 
Felix rolled his eyes and chuckled, finding it hard to stay mad at his adorable princesa and chico guapo for long. “Well, here ya go.” He handed them each extra plates. “And that means you too, Mirabel and Mariano.” 
Mirabel and Mariano exchanged a glance before coming forward to also take slices of each other’s cakes. 
Dolores bit into the Enyucado. “It’s not that bad.” 
Camilo bit into the tres leches cake. “It’s edible, at least. That’s always a good thing.” 
Felix sighed. 
Mirabel, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear. “Mmm! This brings back memories!” She swooned. “I remember when Camilo used to give me his leftover slice because he didn’t like it! It’s delicious. Great job, guys!” 
“Thanks, Mirabel!” Mariano said. “And I like how milky and sweet Your and Dolores’ cake is. Which is only to be expected, because its tres leches cake. But still. It’s very sweet and buttery and nice. You both truly outdid yourselves.” He grinned at Dolores, a sparkle in his eye. “It’s great. Really great!” 
Dolores blushed. “Thanks, Mariano!” 
“Yeah, Mariano, thanks!” 
“You’re welcome.” 
Felix raised an eyebrow at his eldest children. “Now, is there anything you two would like to say?” 
Dolores grumbled and rolled her eyes. “I love your cake too. It’s good. But only because Mariano helped make it.” 
“I love yours too, Dolores. But only because of Mirabel,” Camilo added. 
Felix sighed, realizing that was the best acknowledgment of each other’s talents that they were going to give. 
“All right then,” he said. “Back to the party!” 
The awkward yet amusing situation had finally passed, and the Madrigals spent the rest of the night giving Felix gifts, dancing, playing games, and just overall enjoying themselves. 
Dolores enjoyed herself too. But more importantly, she was glad that her father had enjoyed the cake she made for him. 
Mirabel waltzed up to her while the rest of the family was dancing, shimmying and lightly bumping their hip. “Hey,” she teased. “I guess it paid off in the end, huh? The whole first cake being ruined thing.” 
Dolores shrugged, staring into her glass of wine, but didn’t answer. 
“By the way, and I never got to tell you this before, but that was the funniest thing I had seen from you in a long time!” 
“Shut up!” Dolores snickered, giving Mirabel a light shove. 
“Hey,” Mirabel shoved back. “Don’t blame me, blame Camilo! Or maybe don’t, since now we have two cakes and they’re both equally good!” 
Dolores shrugged with a grin. “I guess you’re right.” 
“I know I am!” Mirabel beamed and waited for Dolores to finish her glass and set it aside. “Anyway, prima, you wanna dance?” 
Dolores pondered for a minute, then took Mirabel’s hand graciously. 
“I’d love to!” She agreed. 
The two girls giggled as they ran to the center of the floor with the rest of their family, dancing together and having fun. 
The End
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ghaniblue · 2 years
Text
Fic: Wormwood (Regulus, Mature) (chapters 21-31)
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This is the continuation of my Regulus fic for @hp-fearfest. The first 8k of chapters 1-20 can be found on AO3. You can subscribe there for daily updates delivered to your inbox. Or read here on Tumblr chapters 1-10 and chapters 11-20. There's a link at the end of each section that brings you to the next chapter. This a Choose Not To Warn adventure, beware.
Onwards with chapter 21 under the cut.
Prompt 21: burn (i'm sorry)
Regulus found himself in front of the small cottage at the edge of the Muggle village where he'd stood with Bellatrix just over a year ago. He could see the rose bushes in full bloom and the winding garden path, illuminated by the cold white glow of a streetlamp. 
Four cloaked figures surrounded him. Barty was there beside him: his first raid. Regulus could feel him twitching with barely restrained eagerness. This time, Regulus was the only one wearing the golden mask. He was the highest ranking Death Eater in charge.
"Are the wards down?" he asked. 
"Yes. She's trapped inside," Barty said. 
"Good. Take positions around the house. Nobody in or out. Understood?" 
Regulus had watched and learned. Commands need to be short and easy to understand, and need to be confirmed. He may be the youngest of the group, but he wore the Dark Mark on his arm. This was his assignment. There would be no mistakes on his watch. Directed at Barty, he said, "You watch the front door."
Barty gave him a jaunty salute. "Yes, sir."
He found the woman upstairs in the bedroom sitting by the window, her back to the door, the only light coming from two candelabras on the dresser. Regulus could see her face reflected in the glass, and she could see him. 
"You took your time," she said. "Here to finish what you started?"
"You know why we're here," Regulus said. "You didn't listen to the warning the first time."
"The warning—" Her voice cracked on the word. She turned around then, and Regulus startled at how old she looked, haggard and frail, with deep lines around her mouth. "My husband's gone and so is my son."
She looked directly at him as she spoke, and her gaze wasn't feeble at all. "My son's grave is empty, do you know that? There wasn't enough left of him to bury. Do you really think I care what you do to me?"
Regulus didn't have an answer to that, but it didn't matter. He wasn't here to talk or answer questions. His assignment was to deliver a message, loud and clear. 
"Was it you, the— the warning?"
"No," Regulus said, before he could stop himself.
She nodded. "Alright. I'm ready."
Regulus raised his wand, the words of the spell on the tip of his tongue. This was the moment of truth. He'd trained for this. His whole life seemed to have led him to this moment. Regulus wouldn't fail.
"Avada Kedavra!" 
Nothing happened, his wand as inert as a mundane wooden stick. Again he called, "Avada Kedavra!" But again nothing happened. Regulus' vision went a little hazy around the edges. The mask was suddenly too heavy, pressing down on his face, pressing down… He couldn't get a proper breath into his lungs. His wand hand shook.
The woman started laughing, loud gasping bubbles of hysterical laughter that rang through the house. Unbidden, an old memory started whispering in Regulus's mind, bowtruckles screaming and the cold voice of Mulciber saying 'distraction is key.'
There was a sound behind him. Barty stood in the door. "Hey, what's going on?" 
"Imperio," Regulus said, and the woman's laughter cut off instantly.
"Get out," Regulus snapped at Barty, but he didn't wait before bending down and whispering into the woman's ear. 
She blinked at him, then stood up slowly and walked over to the bed. She slid her feet out of her slippers and carefully arranged them by the dresser. Then she laid down on the bed and curled around the pillow, hugged it to her chest and closed her eyes with a gentle smile on her face. 
Regulus' throat burned. He needed it done. He needed to get out of here. Barty still stood in the doorway when Regulus turned around. 
"What—" Barty started to say, but Regulus shoved him out of the room without a word, down the stairs, through the door and out until they stood in front of the gate under the streetlamp, and he could breathe again. 
Only then did Regulus speak. "Incendio," he said, and the roof of the cottage burst into flames. 
"Can I?" Barty asked. Regulus had barely nodded assent before Barty raised his wand high into the air. "Morsmordre!" 
The green skull and winding snake gleamed sickly green in the night sky, while the fire blazed bright and orange-bright below. The contrast of colours was almost beautiful.
"That was cold," Barty said, and Regulus thought he could detect something close to admiration in his friend's tone. It tasted like ashes in Regulus' mouth. 
"Go home," Regulus said. "It's done."
Regulus barely made it behind the door of Grimmauld Place before he doubled over and was sick all over the hallway carpet. Kreacher was at his side in an instant, Vanishing his mess with a wave of his hand and conjuring a cup of tea with the other. Chamomile, Regulus could smell the grassy scent wafting from the steaming cup, and his stomach heaved again. Mother made him drink it all the time as a child. He hated chamomile tea.
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