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#but also when do they catch a break because Damn a lot is happening all the time
frenchphobe · 1 year
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i imagine the frustration i feel when my sims ignore the task i assign them is how john feels whenever arthur decides to do the complete opposite of what he says
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spliffymae · 5 months
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forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)
★ *  °    🛰  °. 🌓 •  .°•   🚀
“SURPRISE!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”
you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.
which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.
he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.
connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.
with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.
now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.
connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?
when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.
“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.
“hm?”
“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.
“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?
you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.
the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”
and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.
you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.
connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?
when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.
which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.
connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.
you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.
the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.
just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.
•  .°•
you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.
“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.
you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.
sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.
his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.
you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.
“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.
“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.
“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.
“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.
“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.
“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”
“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.
connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”
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sanguineterrain · 1 month
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Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭
Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?
hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol
dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words
****
You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.
"My love, you almost ready?"
You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.
"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."
The door opens. Your heart swoops.
Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.
Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.
And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.
"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."
He's lying.
That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.
You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.
But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.
You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."
“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."
Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.
Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.
You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."
“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."
You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 
****
The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  
You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 
He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 
Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—
“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”
You're exhausted. 
“Uh-hmm.”
He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 
Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.
“Dickie!” 
Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 
Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.
When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.
“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”
“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”
“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 
“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 
She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.
Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.
"This is my partner," he says about you.
Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."
You nod. She turns back to Dick.
“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 
“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 
Dick and I go way back.
Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 
“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”
“I feel sick,” you announce. 
Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."
You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.
Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.
Your feet start moving.
"Baby—"
Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—
You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.
Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.
Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.
You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—
"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"
Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.
"I need to break up with you," you blurt.
"What?" he breathes. "What���why would you say that?"
You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.
"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"
"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"
"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"
You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.
"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.
You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."
"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."
"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."
Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"
"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"
"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"
"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."
"Wh—that's not true!"
"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"
Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?
"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"
And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.
"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."
"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"
"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."
"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"
"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."
You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.
His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.
"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"
His heart beats against your cheek.
"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."
"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."
You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.
"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."
He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.
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notjustjavierpena · 6 months
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Heat
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.
Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny
Word count: 3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391
Heat
It’s a thousand degrees outside.
It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.
One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.
You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby. 
Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang. 
You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.
After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak. 
“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.
“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.
“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.
“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.
“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.
And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.
Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you. 
You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.
The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.
There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing. 
You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”
“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up. 
You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.
“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him. 
“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”
Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.
“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already. 
“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink. 
And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets. 
Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath. 
“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike. 
You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.
“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.
“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.
“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”
“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it. 
Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want? 
“You know what.”
“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in. 
“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color. 
“Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”
“No.”
His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”
“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”
Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds. 
“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—
You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you. 
“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling. 
After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul. 
“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of. 
When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.
“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”
“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds. 
“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already. 
“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.
“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”
When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch. 
“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.
But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.
Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.
But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure. 
“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”
“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts. 
You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.
Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building. 
You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.
“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”
The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.
“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.
“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”
“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?” 
You nod frantically. 
“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans. 
“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”
“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms. 
It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you. 
Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again. 
“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this. 
“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.
“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”
“Fine,” he groans. 
When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.
.
.
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a-spes · 6 months
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T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.
Words count - 5,2k.
Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.
Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?
Moodboard here.
N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)
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It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.
Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room. 
From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.
It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath. 
The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long. 
It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place. 
Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.
You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of. 
The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture. 
Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.
Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart. 
She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life. 
So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs. 
As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.
Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.
As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.
It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes. 
At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much. 
"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey." 
One. 
Two. 
Three. 
You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet. 
You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open. 
"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears. 
You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness. 
You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.
And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.  
The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.
A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again. 
You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.
The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want. 
Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs. 
Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom. 
"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek. 
For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable. 
"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.
On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.
You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.
"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded. 
She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.
"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."
Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?
She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She  slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful. 
She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.
"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words. 
She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.
"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.
"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin.  “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"
The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman. 
"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.
She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to. 
When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.
When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.
But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.
"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.
It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory. 
You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.
Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.
"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.
I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears. 
It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it. 
"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say. 
And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.
You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure. 
She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything. 
As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.
Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that." 
You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.
"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.
She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't. 
"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.
She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away. 
"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.
Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.
You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach. 
The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.
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mrsphillipgraves · 25 days
Text
touch starved Phillip Graves x GN!Reader headcanons <3
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he definitely struggles with physical affection at first, you’re the one who initiates physical affection during the start of your relationship, (subtle things, like holding hands, or giving him a pat on the shoulder) even just that is so comforting to him, now imagine when you give him a hug for the first time, I imagine this man hasn’t been hugged properly for years, he would be melting in your touch, he would also be thinking about it and smiling for the next few days.
he would slowly start getting used to it, he would start getting used to you hugging him whenever he’s under a lot of stress, or just simply holding his hand and speaking to him whenever he starts feeling a bit overwhelmed about things
eventually, he finds himself seeking your comfort and affection whenever he’s under any sort of distress, and because of that, he would slowly start feeling more and more comfortable with physical affection, he would be the one initiating the hugs, and trust me, he would be hugging you ALL the damn time, would not be able to catch a break. aside from hugging, he would always be touching you in some way, if you’re sitting together, he most likely has his hand on your shoulder, or resting on your thigh,
when you two are walking together he always has his hand around your waist or is holding your hand tightly. he is also definitely coming up behind you whenever you’re cooking and hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder, and you bet a lot of conversations would happen while he is too.
he is also practically begging you to sit on his lap, he loves it when you rest your head on his chest and lean into him, it makes him feel so at home and comfortable, gives him cuteness aggression towards you too, coming to that, if you’re ticklish, he is 100% tickling you.
he is sitting next to you no matter where y’all are, if you two are somehow not sitting next to eachother, he will come over and sit next to you, he wants to be close to you at all times.
he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck whenever you guys are cuddling, or just hugging, it’s his favorite thing to do, he loves the smell of your perfume too, he loves everything about you at this point.
forehead kisses are a must, he will be giving you forehead kisses whenever, it’s the sweetest thing ever, let’s say he is heading out somewhere, leaving to get groceries? “I’ll be back in a bit sweetheart” (*forehead kiss*)
he’s the type to play with your hair, tucking loose strands in, or just overall running his hands through your hair, he loves the feel of it.
100% kissing your cheek at all times, he loves how soft your cheeks are. Definitely would blush if you kissed him on the cheeks tho, or most importantly pinched his cheeks. Red like a tomato.
this man also 100% likes touching your fingers whenever you hold hands, he is definitely moving his thumb half the time because he loves the feel of your hand wrapping around his, it’s just so sweet to him.
most importantly,
he loves you for who you are, he takes care of you, he protects you, you’re the most valuable person on earth to him, he is always so soft around you, you’re the one person on earth he feels safe around, you’re his home, you mean everything to him.
when Phillip Graves loves, he loves deeply and truly.
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end of post ♡.
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scholastic-dragon · 9 days
Note
HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! ✨
I love your writing and when I saw your birthday post I was so psyched!
Would you please write something about the turtles (Bayverse or ROTTMNT, your choice) and the worst time/ place they’ve gotten erect? Maybe how the deal with it? Why they got aroused in the first place? Let your mind run wild ;)
Sometimes your partner or crush just gets to you and you can’t control your desire ;>
• Female reader/ or what ever you’re comfortable writing for
• Developed or no developed relationship
•All the turtles or just one you really like to write for (up to you)
• A short story or head-canons work equally well
Essentially go with whatever you feel most comfortable writing for with the prompt! Thank you! And have fun /^v^/
Also here’s some birthday cake for the road! 🎂 🍰🧁🎉
HAHAHAHAHHAHA I love this
Erection Directions
I'm thinking bay!boys but either works
MINORS DNI - LOTS OF SEXY STUFF BELOW - TURTLES ARE 20+ IN THIS - DONT BE WEIRD
Leo
Well....you see.... it was patrol
It was a slow night, they weren't planning on going out, everyone's in a bad mood
And then you call
And he let's the guys take a break and sneaks off behind a secluded wall to answer the call
"Hey love, were on patrol is there somehting you need-"
"I think I need you to come over and fuck me,"
😳 (the turtle was too stunned to speak)
Swallows his tongue and has to clear his throat before responding.
You flirt and banter for a moment, then it becomes clear that your hand in inside your blue panties (that you sent a lewd picture of)
"Baby, I can't I'm on patrol" He responds after you ask for a video of his "achingly hard cock" as he put it
"How am I supposed to get off if I don't hear your pretty moans?" You tease
Damn
Peering around the wall, he unzips his pants and aims the camera at his hard cock. He catches the soft moan from his lips and his thumb rubbing precum along the shaft.
After a minute he stops recording and sends it your way. He hears your excited moan over the phone.
He grips himself harder.
"I wish you were here right now, inside me instead of my hand,"
That makes him stroke faster, your voice, the knowledge that he's doing this out in the cold night air spurring him on.
He feels his release getting closer, and he hears your responding moans.
"I'm gonna-"
"Oi, fearless!" Like the ass he is, raph comes around the corner.
Leo drops his phone in an attempt to cover himself. "Come on!" He yells.
Raph turns and yells, both to him and Donnie and Mikey. "I'm fucking done, I'm going home, fuck this!"
Donnie asks. "What happened?"
"He's fucking jerking it!" The red brute yells, making the other two start complaining.
"Whyd we even come out here?!"
"I had work to do that you made me put down!"
Leo scrambles on the ground, putting his hand over the microphone. "Patrols over, go home!" He simply yells
He sighs and tucks his own soft cock into his pants. He's upset and extremely embarrassed.
When he lifts the phone to his ear, he hears you laughing your ass off.
Raph
It was the weights room
He lives in there
And you, his new and flashy crush, are now also "living" in here
You claimed it was stupid to pay for a gym membership when you could simply hang out here
And because he's in love with you, he agreed
Now, he regrets it.
You're doing squats while holding a dumbell and the way your ass and thighs look right now should be illegal.
He's laying on the bench press, not even trying to be sneaky as he watches you go up....and down....and up.....and down
And now something else is up
Very up and not at all sneaky.
His head snaps to the ceiling, his hands shaking as he holds the bar above his head.
His heart is pounding hard. A lot like how hard he wants to pound you-
He shakes his head and the bar nearly comes crashing down on his face
"Raph!" You rush over and stand above his head, grabbing the bar around his fingers and lifting it (with his help)
And great, now he's got a view of the underside of your breasts, and the sweet sweaty skin of your bare stomach. Oh, and your delicious thighs are there too.
His cock pulses beneath his shorts.
"Are you okay?" You help him put the bar back, leaning over to look down at him.
Now he can see your cleavage.
"Um" He goes to answer but no words come out.
You sigh and straighten up, and your eyes rake down his body.
He tenses. Your eyes go wide and your cheeks flame.
Shit.
Donnie
Donnie was working under the truck
He's on a custom made rolling cart, his hips peeking out from under thr garbage truck.
He's got headphones on, listening to an audio book you recommended.
It's a romance and the characters just had their first kiss.
He's working and listening, not really paying attention.
"His lips traveled down her neck, making a spike of heat run down her body to her pussy"
Woah
He stopped working for a moment, swallowing hard and taking in what was happening.
The scene progressed and got dirtier and dirtier, to the point where he was aching and hard in his pants
It was late, no one was awake.
He rolled out from under the truck, wiped off his hands and undid his pants.
He tried to match the pace of the book, and man this person was doing a really good job on the voices
For a moment he imagined you and him fooling around like the characters were
His strokes became fast. Slick sounds filling the quiet garage
As the characters hit their peak, so did he, moaning softly and cumming in his hand, it spills down onto his chest and pants.
He sighs, opening his eyes and nearly passing out.
On the other side of the garage, your sitting with your hand in your pants, your lip caught between your teeth
Your eyes meet.
He removes the headphones, feeling hot and sweaty at your flushed cheeks
You smile, all seductive and it makes his cock twitch.
"Chapter 24?"
Hes up and rushing to you, fully intending on acting out the full Chapter.
Mikey
It's while you and him are making dinner
It's mundane and it smells almost as good as you do
You have a smile on your face as you try to remember what each brother likes and it makes his heart warm
He stirs the gravy and asks you to come try it.
He doesn't expect you to take his wrist and lead his spoon to your lips. Wrapping it around the silver and sucking the gravy off.
Now other things are warm
"Mmm!" You moan, licking your lips. "That's really good mike!"
Very warm
It stays that way until everyone is eating at the table
Mikey sees your eyes drift down his plastron as a drop of gravy falls off his bite of potatoes
Your breath catches as you notice the tent in his shorts
Everyone is busy taking and chatting about... oh he has no idea what anybody is talking about
Especially when you smirk and let your hand sneak under the table
You grip his thigh and he nearly cums in his pants from that
You scratch your way up his leg, griping him through his shorts and underwear
He shoves food in his mouth to keep from being too loud. Your hand feels amazing
It's a bit clumsy with the angle and clothes in the way, but he's still very much so getting off
He manages to keep himself quiet as he cums, staning his shorts. You shoot him another cheeky smile.
The hand that was griping him, moves the the table and "accidentally" knocks over a glass of water onto his lap
He gasps at the cold and everyone turns to look
"Oh, mike, I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy!" Your eyes flash with mischief
"It's fine, y/n," He touches your arm. "Come help me get some towels to clean this up,"
No towels were got, but a big mess was made.
@thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83
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yuus-sentient-teddy · 6 months
Text
"You're staying here."
A/N: Spoilers for Prologue, Books 1-6, and certain events. Sorry! I've had this story in my drafts for so many months. I hope ya'll enjoy it and please let me know what you think.
EDIT: I accidentally posted this while in the middle of editing and decided to still work on it while it was posted XD
". . . What? Hang on--"
"Calm down, we just need you to be our in-between in case the beast gets to us. Having you up here means you can get to the Headmaster faster--"
"Wait, stop. Stop." Yuu squinted at Leona, incredulous. "You could have one of your dormmates do that. Your dorm is based on athletics, I'm pretty sure whoever he is could get to the Headmaster faster than me. Not to mention, I'm a Beast Tamer, I should be going with you guys!"
"You're also magicless." Leona was mercilessly blunt with that fact. The words reminded Yuu of all the jabs of random bullies throughout the schoolyear, and they gritted their teeth. Before they could argue back, Leona said, "I'm not saying that that makes you useless, but let's face it: you're not going to survive that oversized house cat unless you can put up a barrier or counter a spell."
"I probably wasn't meant to survive a lot of things since coming here, but look what happened--" Yuu spread their arms out--"I'm alive anyways."
"It's probably because you had one of us or Grim with you," Ace said. "Dealing with the ghosts at Ramshackle the first night and every other thing after that, Grim. Fighting the Phantom in the mines, the three of us. All of the Overblots, a group of us." He was counting off each instance with his fingers, clearly not sorry for making a case against Yuu. "I know you're not thrilled about being left out of something as big as this, but without Grim, you're not going to be able to do much, let alone protect yourself. We can't keep an eye on you either, so it's basically better if you stay here."
He didn't shrink away from the look of betrayal and anger on Yuu's face and stood still when they marched up to him. "Okay, first of all, when have I ever asked any of you to keep an eye on me? Yeah, never. And second in case you forgot, I've handled myself pretty damn well when it came to random magic crap. I literally can't count how many times I almost got burnt by fireballs, impaled by ice, and struck by lightning by people that can't aim, and there are a lot of them at this school. Yeah, Vargas's 'catch-up' lessons helped with my speed, but my point still stands."
They held up a hand, stopping Ace from rebutting. "And if you're going to bring up Grim probably throwing out spells with weird side effects, don't. I've suffered enough curses getting thrown at me and potions being snuck into my food to get used to weird effects."
"Wait, people have been doing those things?!" Kalim's eyes were wide in disbelief and shock. "Why?"
Yuu half-heartedly tossed their arms, palms turning upward, as a form of a shrug. "Probably because they're assholes and I'm an easy guinea pig. If we're being a little pessimistic, it's probably also because no one would miss me. Magicless nobody from another world and all that."
"That's a horrible thing to think about!" Kalim cried. The Ramshackle Prefect was a helpful person and tried avoiding trouble the best they could. Not to mention, they weren't in line for something major like a merchant business or a throne. How could anyone want to trouble Yuu? (And how could Yuu think no one would miss them?)
"No surprise they'd think that," Idia mumbled.
"Hate to break it to you, but even if you got potioned and cursed a lot, there's still going to be something you won't be able to handle," Ruggie said. "I get what you mean, though. I got cursed and potioned a bunch of times before I started working for Leona and still a little after. At some point, you're more annoyed than bothered by whatever happens to you."
There were times he saw his freshman self in Yuu. Struggling to understand the lessons, having to bear with a handful of cruel upperclassmen or fellow classmates, left to carry out a difficult task on their own... he sometimes may or may not have been at the right place at the right time to offer help--in exchange for a favor, of course.
"That still doesn't mean you should throw yourself into a fight without knowing what could happen to you," he added, almost scolding.
"I know, but I still helped with the Overblots, didn't I? I think that's enough proof that I can handle being in dangerous fights," Yuu said, crossing their arms. Their sleeve got pushed up and a healing scar on the back of their wrist was revealed, which caught multiple eyes.
Savanaclaw and the Leech Twins remembered the cry of fear and pain when the Octopus Phantom's tentacle snatched their arm, right after they had stepped out of the way of a funnel of water. Octavinelle and Kalim remembered Yuu being sent flying after the Genie Phantom shot a spell that created a force upon impact. They would have hit the wall like a rag doll if Azul didn't catch them with wind magic. The VDC group members remembered them on the ground, twitching sporadically as one of the Hag Phantom's regular sized apples innocently rolled away like it didn't poison them through touch. (Deuce panicked so hard he summoned a cauldron to crush it even though just stepping on the apple was all that was needed.) And who could forget Yuu yanking their arm out of a nest of thorny branches that had been summoned by the Dragon Phantom? They had scars from thorns that got particularly stuck.
After realizing they were staring, Yuu followed the gazes and put their hands in their pockets as casually as they could.
"If you're worried about us thinking less of you, I assure you we wouldn't," Azul said. "There's nothing about the offer that you should be worried about. Again, it's not because your magiclessness makes you less valuable. It's simply letting you avoid another troublesome fight."
He didn't turn on the charm; no smiles or overly fawning words. He was dead serious and it made Yuu uneasy. Why did he want them to take the offer? Although--and this uneased them much more--it was starting to feel like most of the boys were conspiring to keep them out of the fight.
"After everything you've gone through, you pretty much deserve this. Don't worry about Grim, either." Deuce pounded his chest. "We'll be sure to bring him back in one piece."
"I. . . appreciate. . ." Yuu gestured vaguely while also feeling that 'appreciate' was a strange thing to say. They didn't appreciate being pushed out of something important without being heard, and they weren't sure how to feel about the unexpected concern for their wellbeing, especially at a time like this. "I appreciate you guys wanting to give me a break, but I really am serious about coming with to save Grim."
They saw shoulders slumping and heard frustrated huffs. "Listen!" they yelled, starting to feel frustrated themself. "I almost lost Grim once! I need to be there to make sure I don't lose him again. I know you guys can do what I can't, I've seen you all fight before, and I know you all will be able to handle what's coming, but I can't stand being on the side again! So, like it or not, I'm coming with. And why do any of you care about me getting a few scratches or hits from magic, anyway? It's not like it hasn't happened before."
No one responded.
". . . Guys?"
Finally, Leona clicked his tongue. "So annoying. I told you all it would've been pointless to do this."
"What's going on?" Yuu scanned the faces around them, noticing how uneasy Jack and Riddle looked, how Ace and Deuce seemed to have something to say, how irritated or hesitant everyone else appeared. Malleus approached them and they immediately noticed his brows furrowed in concern. "Tsunotaro. . . ?"
"Two night ago, we all shared a prophetic vision, likely similar to what you have been experiencing as of late. All of us were gathered together battling the chimera form of Grim in the same area as the current one. He casted spells that were beyond his usual abilities, including one that made it hard to breathe. Somehow, in the blink of a moment, you ended up alone with him trying to get him to come to his senses."
Yuu held their breath as Malleus said, "But then he opened his mouth and lunged towards you, and the vision ended. Forgive us for not telling you sooner. It is difficult speaking of someone's prophesied death and we did not want you to lose your confidence."
Multiple eyes carefully watched Yuu process everything he said. Some wondered how this would affect their character (Malleus admired them for their courage, considering their circumstances, and Ace liked them for their gutsy and surprising moments; hopefully nothing would change).
Others hoped that Yuu would relent and let the group fight Grim without them (Rook was regretful of leaving Yuu behind, but someone as special as them needed to be kept safe; Riddle simply didn't want to lose a dear friend).
And others prepared to rebut Yuu if they were still stubborn about going (Leona was mentally groaning and Vil shared his sentiment; aside from the Freshman Squad's reputation for having hard-heads, the two understood how much Grim meant to Yuu).
The Ramshackle Prefect started to observe them in turn with an unreadable expression.
Then they scowled. "You all realize how fucked up it is to keep that a secret, right? I mean, shouldn't I be told I might be walking to my death? Or is it--I don't know. You all think I can't make my own decisions?"
"That's the thing, Yuu. You care a lot about the people around you, and when it comes to Grim, you'd do anything to keep him safe. Even if we told you about the vision, I'm willing to bet you'd try to convince us to let you come anyway," Ace said. "You're right, it was fucked up to keep the vision from you, but we can't let you be so careless about yourself, especially since it's basically confirmed you might die."
"That cat has no idea how lucky he is to have a patient and caring person like yourself," Sebek said. "It wouldn't do for him to learn it through severely injuring you."
"And actually, none of us would be able to stand it if you got hurt or worse and we had the opportunity to prevent it," Ortho said. "You've done a lot already. Just this once, we want to handle this without troubling you."
Yuu silently stared at their Squad, mouth agape.
"When we found out you had gone with Epel and Hunt to find S.T.Y.X.'s headquarters, we seriously thought wouldn't see you again," Deuce said. "You gave us a heart attack with what happened in Scarabia. What you did then was unbearable."
"I know it's pointless to think about, but I sometimes worry over what would have happened if I didn't get my Unique Magic in time," Epel said. "Seeing that vision of Grim pouncing on you, though. . . it's made it harder to sleep at night."
"Frankly, the headmaster could be more considerate of you," Jack said. "Having to take care of Grim and being a Prefect can't be easy. Not to mention, what was he thinking tasking you with stopping Azul?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. "On top of being a little reckless, it makes it hard to not want to pull you back from any trouble."
"So, whatever you tell us, we're not taking no for an answer," Ace concluded.
The anger they had towards everyone for their audacity to keep the vision a secret was dimmed a little (just a little) by their friends' worry for their well-being. At the same time, the worrying made their heart tremble and throat tighten. They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. "You know, this whole time I was expected to be a stone wall. I forgot what it felt like to be cared about."
"Huh?" multiple voices chorused.
"What do you mean by that?" Deuce asked.
"Well, I was pretty much thrown into a lion's den and expected to survive it. I wasn't given much sympathy either by nearly everyone I met, especially during the first month." (A few of the boys internally cringed, remembering the hurtful words he had said.) "There's also the fact that most of the school consists of pricks who are self-absorbed year-round. It's not very comforting to know that if something happens to me, there's a good chance no one's going to give me a hand, except if it's people I get along with or people who can benefit from my suffering."
"I don't blame you for wanting certain attitudes to change, but you know as well as I do that you'll encounter pricks and predators anyway beyond the school walls," Vil said but not without some sympathy.
"I do," they said bitterly. "Look, I get it. I shouldn't expect the world to hold my hand or offer me everything on a silver platter. But--god damn it, would it have killed anyone or even any of you guys to have some sympathy? To be a little more decent?”
"I was able to bear the atmosphere of NRC for a while, but at some point, it gets so fucking tiring. A student population that can't be a smidge nicer unless they're beaten up or more upfront about their actual intentions." They shook their head, then made a derisive sound. "That's why I'm having a hard time processing this. I'm sorry, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that you guys, who come from Night Raven College, are actually showing that you care."
The corner of their lip twitched upward, forming a broken smile. Concern was visible on everyone's faces.
"Yuu," Ace said, "are you okay?"
". . . No. I haven't been okay since coming here, or maybe I wasn't okay before coming here and it just got worse. I don't really know."
They turned their face to the side, but it was too late: everyone saw a tear slide down their cheek. Except for Grim and the rest of the First Year Squad, no one ever saw the Ramshackle Prefect cry. It strangely made everyone concerned, and some reached out a hand.
"Yuu..."
"Prefect..."
They raised a fist to their face, as though it could stop the tears before they could spill. They took a slow, deep breath to calm themself, but they never let that breath go in fear a sob would escape.
"Yuu." A hand gently touched their shoulder. "It's all right."
They shoved the person away. They couldn't see who it was from the torrent of tears that suddenly spilled and blinded their sight. "It's not!"
"I was starting to believe people when they said I wouldn't be anything! They told me I was useless and dumb and a nobody. They told me I should've stayed a janitor because I couldn't do anything right. They'd try to beat me up for some etiquette I didn't know or for some stupid reason."
Insulting Yuu's parents and them. . .
Riddle noticed Trey setting aside a big cookie during preparations for the Unbirthday Party. It was for Yuu. Earlier that day, someone or some people had stolen their bag and stuffed it with crumpled paper and empty food wrappers. Their notebooks--thankfully still in tact--had been tossed haphazardly around the school and led to the field where the bag was left. Trey found all this out when Ace and Deuce returned to Heartslabyul dorm scowling. The Unbirthday Party went on as usual, and Yuu seemed cheered up by the cookie and receiving the honors of petting a hedgehog. Much, much later, Riddle caught a bully red-handed and dished out the consequences for breaking Rule #53: You must replace anything you steal. Sadly, it didn't deter other bullies from stealing Yuu's bag, but Riddle still punished whoever he could for breaking an important rule and troubling someone so undeserving.
Threatening to take a tooth. . .
Leona overheard a conversation while napping in the botanical garden. In between sleep and waking, he initially thought he was dreaming the times he overheard the servants whispering disapprovingly about him. What made him wake up was hearing plots to get Yuu kicked out. He couldn't be bothered to care what ridiculous crap the herbivores in the other dorms or his juniors in Savanaclaw got caught up in, but this was something different. Joke or not, someone had to step in before either party gets kicked out--and that's what he did, telling the students off for planning something ridiculous and highly risky (and glaring harshly when he recognized some of the students as members of the Magift Club). After the students scrammed, he settled back down to sleep and his mind wandered to Yuu. He felt a little deja vu when he thought how they needed a tutor to keep themself from failing (and Grim too even though that fur ball could pay to be less annoying). It would dig into his rest time, but he had an idea for what Yuu could do to make up for that. Say, help a certain hyena finish his given tasks quicker.
"It feels like I'm only here for people to use or take from. I keep wondering why it always happens. Is there something wrong with me? Was there some invisible sign telling people I was a tool that didn't need repairs? Was I cheap labor because I'm on the bottom of some hierarchy?"
Taking Ramshackle Dorm away. . .
Once, Azul came across a group of students playing 'keep away' with Yuu and their lunch box. For a moment, he was reminded of his child self, trying to get back a seashell from a couple of bullies who were tossing it to each other over his head and taunting his slowness. He snapped out of his memories when Ace, Deuce, and Grim entered the scene, magic ablazed and yelling. It wouldn't be the first time he would see this happen: anytime anyone picked on Yuu while using magic, their friends would come to their aid. (If Azul had to be honest, he envied the Ramshackle Prefect for having people like the First Year Squad look out for them.) But then, some time after his Overblot, he came across a couple of students on brooms waving Yuu's homework from their perch. The sight particularly irked him, but before he could step in, one of the bullies lost his grip and a couple of papers got blown away. The rest of the homework got lost when he and his accomplice tried grabbing the sheets. It all drifted onto the wet grass below or sailed over the trees, and the bullies, suddenly remembering they had something more important to do, left Yuu scrambling to salvage what they could. Azul wouldn't forget the Prefect's face when they asked, defeated, what he wanted in exchange for helping them with the missing papers. He neither wouldn't forget their face when they asked how he had been able to deal with being picked on so much. For once, he didn't feel the urge to strike a deal.
Using them for a plan. . .
When the high of partying in the desert died down, all Jamil could think about was how he would tell his family that he Overblotted and why. It churned his stomach picturing their horrified faces, and it was made worse when he wondered what the Al-Asim family would do if they heard that their heir had been caught in a dangerous situation by none other than the loyal best friend. What would happen to him and his family then? Amidst the inner turmoil, the Ramshackle Prefect and Grim were far from his mind until he and Kalim found them practicing for the VDC tryouts. A proper apology was due, but he didn't have one prepared. It didn't seem to matter to the two, though, as they acted like nothing happened. As though he didn't force them to "solve" another dorm problem right after Grim expressed not wanting to. When Vil Overblotted, he saw Grim rearing to fight while voicing how troublesome it was to deal with yet another Overblot. His eyes slid over to Yuu. . . and it was crystal clear they didn't want to deal with anything anymore. They stared at Vil's cackling, levitating figure with despair, eyes telling of exhaustion and mouth tugging into a grimace, a sign of reluctant acceptance. He tried to protect them when he could from poisonous spells--emphasis on tried, since he still had Kalim to keep safe--and afterwards, offered leftover food whenever Scarabia had parties.
"Was an Overblot all it took for people to see me differently? I can't control how other people act, only how I respond. All I can do is take things easy and forgive, but I don't know if I can keep doing it. It's just. . ."
Their voice trembled. "So hard to keep going when it seems like barely anyone wants to consider you."
Word spread fast around Night Raven College and it wasn't long before Vil recognized that Yuu was in a challenging position: they lived in a literal ramshackle dorm, had to live on a small budget, and were entirely new to this world. He had to hand it to them, they possessed quite the will and backbone. After all they experienced, he counted himself lucky that they warmed up to him rather quickly--which was why he noticed how tensely quiet they became the night after their friends snuck a bite of unknowingly cursed dessert. When asked, they told him bluntly that it was painful seeing food used like that. They were struggling to pay off lunch debts and it was made much worse when already broken windows broke a little more or parts of the roof had to be patched up after a short downpour. Vil could see a little hunger in their eyes as they talked of instances where they had to decide between repairs and eating dinner that night, even the next two nights. He didn't know about their struggles in the first place, but he nonetheless felt terrible about what he did and deeply apologized. For the rest of the VDC training camp, he ignored any footsteps that came from the Prefect's bedroom and headed downstairs, even as they made the floorboard creak loudly.
Idia sometimes thought about how the Prefect looked when they thanked him for listening to their rambles of all the anime they watched back on Earth. The two of them were sitting in Ramshackle Dorm's lounge, waiting for the next level of the game to finish loading, when he glanced over. Serene and distant, like they had recounted a fond memory. He thought back to all the isekai manga, anime, and video games he consumed. Some protagonists seemed pretty eager to be in another world, others were immediately wishing to go back home, but those who expressed homesickness did it in a cool way, like staring at a moon while sitting next to a best friend (he did remember reading fanfiction where it was more emotional, though.) None had a protagonist talk about something as mundane as the shows they loved to watch, let alone a protagonist who would talk to someone awkward like him. Didn't Yuu have their squad for these sort of heart to heart things? But they insisted that he was the guy they wanted to talk to; according to them, he was the most similar to the friends they rambled to about anime and would very likely 'get' what they would be talking about. Idia was simultaneously flattered and frightened: flattered because his expertise in the media was recognized and frightened because he was in a position reserved for those with high relationship levels. In fact, he panicked when Yuu suddenly got teary-eyed. The saving grace was the next level finishing loading and the characters getting thrown into chaos. The next time he came to Ramshackle Dorm, he brought with him some anime he thought Yuu would appreciate.
"And that's the thing. I don't understand how people forget there's more to a person than whether they have magic. There were times I wished no one had magic so they'd just shut up and stop acting like they're better than me or anyone else. It's like having magic is an excuse to be an ass."
Yuu sometimes joined Malleus on his nighttime strolls. Most nights they would be sound asleep, which was why he treasured the times they were awake enough to walk with him. The two talked about anything that came to mind: gargoyles, schoolwork, differences between Earth and Twisted Wonderland. Then one night, Yuu casually mentioned that many of the students were rather. . . unwelcoming. "Some of them act like I don't exist, but it's better than getting my homework stolen and thrown to the wind." He was surprised, but not unfamiliar with bullying from Lilia's recollection of cruel humans and various history lessons. He asked why. They shrugged, answering, "Probably because I'm low on the hierarchy. I don't have basic knowledge on magic on top of being magicless." When he said it still didn't warrant such behavior, they smiled sadly and replied, "Well, that's how it goes when you got something another person doesn't, and that other person just so happens to not really fit in a certain place." Later, Malleus was distraught to hear from Lilia that some of the students who were unkind to Yuu were of Diasomnia. The dorm was founded on the elegance of the Thorn Witch, surely the students would act with decor. But Lilia told him not to worry, he had a word with those students on being more open. But Malleus still wondered if there was something he could do. It turns out the answer was simple (even though it took place after his Overblot): hang out with Yuu during the daytime. They were a fellow student, were they not? So why should they be treated any different?
"Sometimes, I wonder if anything would change if I Overblotted. Would anyone wonder then why it happened and be nicer? Or. . ." Yuu let out a bitter scoff. "Would nothing change and people just see me more as an alien freak?"
They scrubbed the tears in their eyes. "Maybe I'm just a dumb ass and my Phantom would just eat me. It's not like I have anything else to offer it. God, what am I doing?"
The weight of what they had spilled for the past couple of minutes started crashing down like a crumbling shelf. They didn't want to see what the others' reactions were and continued to wipe their eyes with their hands and sleeves, even if there wasn't much to wipe. Their mind cycled through anything they could say to escape such an embarrassing situation. So sorry, I didn't know where it came from. Let's go back to arguing why I can't come with you guys to save my cat. He has been nothing but a pain in the ass, I should know, but he's become nicer and been my primary protector. He keeps insisting he'd protect me because he's the boss and I'm his henchman, and it's so endearing sometimes. And he's comforted me when I become so sick and just need someone to hold me--
"How long has this been going on for?" It was a gentle question. Yuu lowered their hand and found Ace and Deuce standing before them, the worry on their faces making their heart clench.
"A long time."
"Why didn't you say anything? We could have done something, you know," Deuce said.
Yuu shook their head. "This school runs on sink or swim. 'Losers don't have the right to complain.' And did you guys forget that we're freshmen? What can you guys do against the whole school? I actually talked about this with the school counselor and all he could do was apologize and tell me he'll put in a note for the headmaster."
Yuu almost laughed at the faces Ace and Deuce made. "I'm pretty sure I'm his first case for something like this."
"Still, you shouldn't just take everything lying down," Deuce said.
"I don't want to anymore, but I'm so tired of fighting. At what point can I stop?"
Yuu was once again seen under a new light. The viewpoint was different for each boy: from magicless outlier to honorary dorm member, notorious problem solver to exhausted errand runner, doe-eyed student to determined but kind mastermind, just to name a few. Yuu had laid bare wounds previously covered up by uniform sleeves, things they couldn't talk about or didn't feel comfortable sharing because otherwise they'd go against the school norm and grab negative attention to themself. Their closest friends knew of these wounds; others caught glimpses of certain parts. With the revelation, they all shared a similar viewpoint: an ordinary person so far from home, dropped into a magical, chaotic world and more vulnerable than what anyone realized. More exhausted and heavily scarred than what anyone realized.
"When Leona told me to stay here, I thought all along you guys didn't think of me as someone who could stand beside you and that everything had just been you all tolerating me." Yuu's voice dropped to a whisper. "That had hurt me more than any of you could know."
". . . Anyone who thinks you're undeserving of your position knows absolutely nothing," Riddle said. "Not counting your grades, you've proven yourself enough to have a place in this school."
Yuu gave Riddle a wobbly smile and he found himself feeling a little bashful. "Thanks, Riddle."
The smile suddenly became strained and they looked away. "I'm sorry. I know I said I took things easy and forgave, but--" they grimaced--"I can't bring myself to let go of some things you and the others did."
A/N: This accidentally became a two parter
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Note
Ok ok hear me out, the turtle brothers and the reader on Christmas?
Don’t forget to take care of yourself! Get food, water, and rest! You are wonderful and amazing! Happy holidays! 💕
🎄🎁
💜💙🧡❤️🐢
Christmas Crush Stories (Fluff)
2003!Turtles x reader
A/N: So, I am Danish, and we celebrate Christmas on the 24th, which is tonight. I don’t know a lot about American Christmas food or traditions, but I’ll see what I can do. So here’s a quick one before the family gets here💙❤️💜🧡🐢 PS. It started snowing big time as soon as I started writing this😂💚
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Some small Christmas stories with the turtles and you, their crush💚
Warnings: Christmas fluff and chaos🎄
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Leonardo:
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”, Leo asked as he watched you, standing on top of an impossibly tall ladder, all to decorate a damn Christmas tree. Who’s idea was it anyway to get a tree so tall, that not even the ladder could reach the top? If Leo could find them he would give them a stern scolding. Just because it was a long way to the ceiling of the lair, that didn’t mean their tree should go up all the way! “It’s a far drop, (Y/N)”.
“I got it, mom”, you teased, poking out your tongue at him, making him cross his arms. You knew very well that Leo only meant the best, and that he was only looking out for your well being. “Besides”, you continued, picking out another brightly coloured glass orb to place on the tree. “Someone has to decorate the tree”.
“I would much rather have a naked Christmas tree than you getting injured”, the leader in blue retorted, looking unimpressed at the tree. How dare it be the reason you would put yourself in danger.
“Relax, Leo”, you said, closing your eyes as you rolled them, causing him to uncross his arm, ready to catch you in case you would fall. Okay, maybe he was a worry hen, but closing your eyes was a recipe for disaster! “Nothing is going to happen. I’m a grown woman! I don’t fall from a ladder. Have you seen me in high heels?”
“Yeah, but when you fall while fearing high heels, the fall wouldn’t break your bones”, Leo said, feeling himself getting more and more anxious.
“I’m not gonna fall, Leo”, you sighed, getting just slightly more frustrated. In the beginning his worries were cute, but now they were starting to plant the first roots of irritation. You let go of the ladder to place your hands on your hips. “Will you please stop worrying? I’m not a child-”.
You and your big mouth. Of course the ladder shook under you, causing you to yelp in surprise and lose your balance. It happened so fast. You fell off the tall ladder, plummeting towards the ground in what felt like less of a second. Leo was just as fast, having seen this situation happening a million miles away. He was ready right underneath you, catching with ease, holding you in a bridal style. Your face burned hot under Leo’s gaze, not just from the fall, but the close proximity of his face to yours.
“Are you still sure it’s a good idea?”, he asked, letting a smug smile show.
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Raphael:
“You don’t get to hawk the mistletoe all day”, Raphael grumbled at Casey, as April walked away from him one more time. Casey sighed, having hoped that this was the way to finally get a kiss from her. And it didn’t help that his red clad terrapin friend was now bugging him. “Some of us also have plans for tonight”.
“Good luck”, Casey said, stepping out from under the mistletoe on the clothing line, hand on his head, thinking of a new way to gain April’s attention. “If (Y/N) is anything like April, the only kiss you’ll get is a knuckle kiss”.
“I’ll manage”, Raph smiled as he jumped to get the mistletoe down from the clothing line, before setting out to find his long time crush; you.
You weren’t very hard to find, as you had been in the kitchen most of the day, making dinner with Mikey, Splinter and some of the turtle’s other guests. Raph managed to catch you, right as you were leaving the kitchen, trapping you in the doorway, his sudden appearance making you jump back in surprise.
“Long day, (Y/N)?”, he asked, a friendly smile on his lips. Goodness, he hoped that this would work. You still didn’t seem to have noticed the mistletoe he was holding over your head.
“Obviously, Raphael”, you said, sounding a little bitter. Oh, crud. That hadn’t been part of Raph’s plan. “I have been in the kitchen all day, and have you been helping? No! Your brother and father have been so nice to help me, but you? No! You have been playing mistletoe hunt with Casey and April!”
“Uhm… (Y/N)”.
“Christmas Eve is tonight, Raphael, and it would be nice with some help!”
“(Y/N)...”
“What?!” Raphael pointed towards the mistletoe in his hand above your head. The sight making your blood boil once more. “So that’s why you wanted to talk! I’m working my ass off in the kitchen, and you want to kiss!?”
“N- no, (Y/N), that was not-”.
“Come here you!”
But before you could manage to land any punches, Raphael started running, with you closely following on his heels. Casey saw this and started clapping his knees in laughter.
“I told you, Raph! Hahaha!”
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Donatello:
“Did you know that in Denmark, they eat duck instead of turkey for Christmas?”, Donatello said, watching you and April work in the kitchen. Or you, more specifically. Sweet Donnie had been walking after you all day like a lost puppy, spouting random facts about Christmas, all in an attempt to keep your attention on him. Poor fellow didn’t seem to know any other way of doing so.
“Is that so?”, you asked with a small smile. You knew about Donnie’s little crush on you, and you had to admit that you found it very adorable. He would blabber about whatever small fact he had learned, sharing everything he knew with you. And you enjoyed every minute of it.
“Yeah”, Donnie said, smiling bright at your interest in his small facts. “They also eat something called browned potatoes, which is like caramelized potatoes made with butter and brown sugar”.
“Okay, that actually sounds pretty good”, you said.
“Yeah, it does”, Donnie smiled. And then he continued on with his many random facts and information. Like said before, you enjoyed every minute of it. You liked having Donatello around, and to be honest, you love hearing him talk. But April, not so much. You see and feel how she was growing more and more frustrated with Donnie’s continuous talking. So you decided to take action into your own hands.
“Hey, Donnie”, you said, causing him to stop in the middle of whatever he was saying.
“Yes, (Y/N)?”
“Can you keep an eye on these for me?”, you asked, pointing towards the boiling potatoes on the stove.
“Of course!”, Donnie said, stepping in beside you to take a look at the potatoes. That was when you leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek. Donnie let out a sound of surprise, before placing a hand on where your lips had met his skin. He turned to look at you with wide eyes. “W- what was that for?”, Donnie asked, his face burning hot.
“Well, in Denmark, when someone helps you in the kitchen during Christmas, you’re supposed to kiss them”, you smiled with a shrug.
“R- really?”, Donnie said, a smile spreading on his blushing face.
“No”, you laughed, placing your chin on his shoulder. “I made that up. But you did really look like one that could use a kiss”.
“Well, I think I could use more than one”, Donnie mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.
“Then I guess I’ll have to catch you under the mistletoe”, you said.
That comment caused Donatello to leave the kitchen in a hurry, screaming and yelling. “Casey! Raph! Quit playing around! I need that mistletoe!”
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Michelangelo:
“Drop the snowball, young lady! Or you will be arrested!”, Mikey yelled at you from behind a tree, his beanie and scarf almost covering his face.
It was almost Christmas. The snow was laying in a thick layer in Central Park, so you and your best friend Michelangelo decided it was the perfect opportunity to take a night stroll through the park. But with you and Mikey being the way you were, that stroll had pretty quickly ended up in a snowball fight. It had now turned into you having backed Mikey into a corner behind the tree, searching and praying for an opening in your attack.
“It will take more than the turtle police to get me!”, you yelled back with a laugh, throwing the snowball just as Mikey looked out from behind the tree. He managed to duck, just as the ball flew past his face.
“Turtle police?! It is the Turtle Titan you’re talking to!”, he yelled, throwing a snowball blindly in your direction. You dodged that with ease.
“Is that so?”, you asked in a teasing manner. “Then come and get me, oh mighty Turtle Titan!”
That was the opening and motivation Mikey needed, He jumped out from behind the tree, dodging the balls you threw his way. “By the power of the mighty Turtle Titan, you’re going down, (Y/N)!” And with that he started running after you.
You yelped and started running in the opposite direction. But Mikey and his mighty ninja skills and trained legs managed to catch up with you easily. But even a trained ninja would not fight the power of an icy path. Mikey slipped and yelled, causing you to turn just in time before he fell on top of you, causing both of you to fall to the ground. Your back against the ground with Mikey on top of you.
“What was that for?”, you asked.
“I thought you would like to make snow angels”, Mikey smiled down at you.
“If that’s the case, then why are you still on top of me?”, you teased.
“I don’t know. You seemed cold”, he said. You caught him looking down at your lips for a second, causing you to sigh loudly.
“If I kiss you, will you get off?”
“Yes ma’am!”
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janeyseymour · 1 month
Text
Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 6
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.
Summary: Melissa is released from the hospital, meanwhile, JJ is located.
WC: ~1.65k
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The little boy ends up falling asleep in the car, adrenaline leaving his body and pure exhaustion setting in. When he wakes up, he wakes up to nearly being thrown out of the seat of the car again. This time though, the seatbelt catches him, and while it burns like hell on his neck- because he shouldn’t be in the car without the seatbelt, he does not repel forward. He slams back into his seat with a loud yelp, and he hears a loud bang.
Joe just crashed the car. Joe just crashed the car into a tree on one of the back roads he was taking, and the airbags deployed- saving his life. With the fire-retardant that comes out of the airbag in a big cloud, they’re both coughing, gasping for breath. Neither of them are found by the time the sun comes up.
Almost as soon as day breaks, Melissa is awake, and hellbent on getting out of the hospital. She cannot lay here idly by while her four year old son is God knows where with her jackass of an ex-husband.
“I do not care!” she’s shouting at you. She winces is pain, but she doesn’t let the aching in her ribs put out her fire. “We have to find JJ!”
“What we have to do is get you to recount what happened last night, and then I need to find out how I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover,” you tell her as you lay a hand over hers.
“When are they going to get here?!” the redhead shouts.
“Hun, it’s…” you glance over at the clock. “6:45 in the morning. Give it time, and try to get another hour’s sleep, because once we get out, you won’t be getting the rest you need to anyway.”
She, in a fit of rage, slams her hand down on the call button on the remote attached to her bed. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at that action- so defiant. You wonder how she’s a second grade teacher sometimes, and this is a prime example.
The nurse comes in, and you just give her a sympathetic look as she’s yelled at in both English and Italian.
When the nurse leaves, somewhat terrified of what she just witnessed, Melissa just taps away on her phone before answering a call.
“Tommy, you better get your ass over here now to take my damned statement before I rip you a new one,” is what she hisses into the phone.
“Mel,” you grumble as you open one eye to look at her sleepily.
She just rolls her eyes and continues on her tirade in her second language. You don’t understand any of the words she’s saying, but you do know that she’s all but threatening this man’s life if he isn’t here in a flash.
And he is. Melissa gives her statement while the doctor comes in and explains to you her recovery plan.
“Three broken ribs is no joke, but there’s also unfortunately not a lot that we can do to help the healing process along,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. “For the first few days, icing it will help. As ridiculous as it sounds, we usually do recommend a frozen bag of peas because they’re easy to move and manipulate.”
You nod, taking notes on your phone.
“She shouldn’t sit or lay for extended periods of time, sleep sitting upright for the first few days- it’s best for her to keep moving when possible to help her breathe and clear the mucus from her lungs. If she has to cough, she should not suppress it. It will be painful for her, but we do suggest holding a pillow to her chest while she does to help absorb some of the blow. If we can prevent a chest infection, we should. And when her son is located, she should refrain from holding him as much as possible- straining herself is only going to make the recovery time that much longer.”
“How long is recovery time?”
“With the damage he did to her? I’d say four to six weeks, but that would only be if she’s taking care of herself. What does she do for work?”
“She’s a second grade teacher,” you sigh.
The doctor frowns, lines drawn into his forehead. “So I guess I should write her a doctor’s note to excuse her from work for the next few-”
“She’ll never agree to that,” you tell him. “She’s a single mother who is just doing her best to make it all work, and I can guarantee that she will want to leave her kids for that long.”
“If she’s constantly straining herself at work-”
“I can get attempt to get her to agree to teach from her chair,” you argue. “But that’s probably the best I can do.”
“I suppose that will have to do,” the doctor reluctantly agrees.
Meanwhile, JJ has woken up and is in the backseat crying, Joe passed out, who’s to say whether that be from the accident or the alcohol in his system, when a kinder gentleman who occupies the land takes note of the truck on his property. He slowly approaches it, but upon hearing the little boys wails, he picks up his pace, calling for his wife.
The woman runs up alongside of him, also speeding up when she hears the little boys loud cries. They glance into the car, and while the older man clocks the open bottle of vodka right away, the woman’s eyes go right to the little boy cowering in the backseat.
“Oh my god, Jerry,” JJ can hear. He all but curls into the backseat, terrified that whoever this is might take him even further from his momma. The door opens, and the little boy can feel a warm hand on his back- on that reminds him of his nonna’s. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re okay. You’re alright.”
JJ looks up, tears still pouring over his face, a thick trail of snot falling from his nose and into his mouth. “I want Momma!”
“Okay, honey,” the woman says softly. “We’ll get you to your momma. Can you tell me your name?” When he doesn’t respond, she says as gently as she can, “I’m Bev, this is my husband Jerry.”
“JJ,” is all the little boy offers up. She gives her husband a look and mouths, ‘9-1-1’. He trails a little further up the driveway to make the call.
“Is JJ your nickname?” Bev asks him. He nods. “What does it stand for?”
“Joe Jr.”
“And how old are you, sweetheart?”
“Four,” he whimpers out, but he holds up three fingers. The little one uncurls just slightly.
“Can I pick you up?” At JJ’s nod, she smiles softly and lifts him out of the seat. He cries out in pain at his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers.
“Daddy pulled my arm,” JJ reveals softly. He lays his head on the woman’s shoulder, hoping to find some warmth and comfort- any warmth and comfort.
Jerry walks back up to the two. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.”
It’s a bit later that the police along with an ambulance show up and speak with the elderly couple and JJ. The older couple insists on riding to the nearest hospital with the little boy and his father.
Upon getting there, they ask the little boy basic questions. 
“What’s your name?… How old are you?… Do you know these people that brought you here?… What happened?”
While all of this is happening, a few others work on Joe- and they find his license. Joseph Schemmenti… that name sounds-
“Is this the man that kidnapped his son after beating the living shit out of his ex-wife?” one of the cop’s eyes go wide.
“Oh my god,” another gasps softly.
“Melissa,” you say softly as you drive the two of you back to your apartment complex.
“I. Am. Fine,” she grits out as she holds an icepack- one from the hospital, to her body. “I don’t even care right now. I just need to find JJ.”
“And we will,” you promise her. “We will find him.”
The redhead in the passenger seat starts to crack as she looks over to you. “What if… what if it’s too late?”
You take a shaky breath at that before uttering the words, “It won’t be.” She can tell that you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as you’re attempting to convince her. 
By the time that they’re able to locate where the little boy is with the elderly couple, JJ’s shoulder has been set into place, they’ve tended to the burns from the seat belt, and Melissa has been contacted.
“Tommy, you better have-”
“We found him and Joe in a small town out by Lancaster,” the officer gets out quickly. “They’re at Lancaster General Hospital.”
The redhead nearly jumps off the couch, and you have to catch her as she stumbles. “Y/N! they have JJ! In Lancaster! We have to-“ she wheezes for breath, gripping at her ribs. “We have to go!”
“That- that’s over an hour away,” you tell her. “You can’t possibly make that trip right now- not in your-”
“We’ll be there,” Melissa says quickly into the phone before hanging up. She’s grabbing her keys and slipping her shoes on before you can get another protest out.
“You are not driving,” you practically rip the keys out of her hand. “And you are not-”
“This is my son we are talking about!” the woman shouts at you. “I do not care!”
Knowing you aren’t going to win this fight, you grab a pillow and guide her out to the car slowly.
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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cottondo · 8 months
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Hey babes! First of all, let me just say that I ADORE your writing <3333 I can tell you have a lot of passion for what you do!
If it’s alright with you, I’d like to request a Blitzø x fem! reader story. Preferably how he navigates a shy, sweet imp. I was thinking that they could have been childhood friends or something like that. Whatever you decide to do I’ll read (and love) it <3333
Thank you so much!!
aahww thank you sm lovebug🥹💞 I appreciate the kindness !
also,, really hope I got your request right?? I lowkey wasn’t exactly sure on what you wanted LMAO but I hope you like it regardless <3
Blitzo x fem! imp reader | navigate
The sound of your breath in a humid environment was all you could really focus on. Or, more so, trying to control it.
Blitzo insisted taking you on some stupid 'adventure', —if thats what he called it— and of course, it turned into a mission.
Why the hell wouldn't it! You didn't expect much less from him.
You particularly didn't care much for his mission work. Sure, okay, it seemed kinda cool sometimes- - but the,, almost double-dying part, was intimidating as fuck.
Keeping all your limbs attached to your body was really your biggest goal living down in Hell. It was easy enough to end up getting stabbed, maybe break a horn or two, or even end up in a shitty situation with some demon lords that rule rings trying to chase you down. Especially as an imp!
Maybe it was because you actually valued your death-life, and Blitz,, .. just didnt? But, regardless, you didn't wanna be here, doing this today.
A heavy hand rests on your shoulder abruptly, causing a small flinch to react from your figure.
Blitz leans in close, a crazy little smirky smile on his face. If the space between you got any smaller, you thought your oxygen levels would've been completely cut.
He managed to drag you into some hide out, a gun in his hand, army crawl position beside you in a long vent you two crawled inside of together. Shoulders harshly bumping against each other's to prover just how little space there actually was inside.
It was hot in here, and he was hotter, which only added to the uneasiness you felt in your chest.
"Don't tell me you're bitchin' out on me, y/n." He whispers to you, eyes focusing on your nerves. Blitz knew you better than just about anyone. And to be fair, he should. You two have been friends since childhood, so nothing goes unseen around him.
Your frown lightens, vision trailing to look back at him. "Nooo? I'm totally fine," you flash a cheesy smile back.
Blitzo's eyes roll, "Yea- ok, I'm teaching you combat, whether you like it or not, bitch. If youre gonna be working with us, you can't just sit around at the desk looking all cute and shit, everyday." He reminds you, "I need you to learn how to be more assertive!"
He thought you were cute? Ayee, score for you.
Your lips curl into a smirk over at him.
"As cute as I am, I can still be assertive." Now it was your turn to remind him.
It didnt look like he believed that statement. Actually, you knew he didnt.
"What happens when some dick fucker tries being an asshole to you? Pulls out a gun? One day I'm not gonna be able to get there quick enough to save your sorry ass." He frowns, some annoyance clear in his tone.
Your eyes widen, and your lips sound a gasp as you face him. "Oh my god- - is that the sound of you caring about someone other than yourself~?" You tease sarcastically, eyelids lowering casually again. Blitz turns away with a scoff.
"I didn't know that was even possible," you add onto the teasing, obviously getting some sort of rise out of him.
"Listen!" He narrows his vision. "Oka- you know damn well that I—"
His words get cut off. The sound of a door opening, and footsteps entering the room catch both of your attentions. You flinch when the door slams shut behind the figure. It was a short demon. Big horns, and an even bigger snout. He sort of looked like a dead pig. You cringe.
"Oh, fuck." Blitz smirks, raising up his gun. "This is too easy. You comin' or what?" His shoulder nudges yours. You give a dull look in reply. "Do I have a choice?"
"No, you don't." He smirks over his shoulder at you.
You follow close behind his army crawl towards the end of the vent. It wasn't far away at all, just totally felt uncomfortable being on your hands and knees in such a small space for so long.
Blitz quickly kicks out the vent door, and jumps down to the floor with his gun tightly in hand. Your eyes watch his figure as he lands perfectly in the room, alerting the demon who was on Blitz' kill list.
Damn.
It was kind of crazy how good his combat is. You know he has a lot of practice- - which does make you slightly worry from time to time about just how much trouble this job really gets him into. (And how much more it'll get you into if he continues to drag you along for the ride.)
With a small push, you slip yourself out of the vent, and land on two feet with a practiced swiftness. You've gotten enough rehearsal time to do small, crafty things, but you weren't perfect- - nothing like how Blitz was, anyway.
But at least you still looked good doing it.
The listed demon looks quickly between the both of you, Blitz ready with a crazed grin on his face while holding the gun, and you, with your knife strapped to your side, looking nothing as intimidating.
"Y/N! Grab him!" Blitz commands from you.
You hesitate for a second, "Blitz, do we really hav—"
"Cmon!" Blitz tosses his head back and groans, quickly rebounding and aiming the gun to the guys head before he got any bright ideas. "Lets dance, bitch!"
The demon, though all three of you were trapped in a very small room, does his absolute best to dodge each and every bullet. For a porky lookin dude, he was quick on his hooves. He managed to miss most if not all, bullets aimed his way.
You lunge forward, and tackle him to the ground like a tiger pouncing its prey. Blitz cheers you on, fist pumped up in the air as he watches with excitement down at you. "Thats what im talkin about, y/n! Now tie his ass up, we gotta use him as bait for the rest of them."
"The rest of them?" You glare in question.
His hand tosses you down a rope, which you had no idea where he kept it hidden all this time, but look up to Blitz anyway, as you struggled a little, straddling to keep the demon down beneath you.
Your hands desperately grab the rope, and you begin tying. Blitz insisted no helping, as this was his way of teaching you proper ways to hustle- - but you'd gladly accept it if he offered any.
First, you wrap up the struggling mans hands, then, you move down to his kicking feet. He managed to give your shoulder a good hit with his foot, but that only resulted in Blitz raising his own foot, and forcefully bringing the tip of his boot into the guys side. The demon lets out a groan.
"Damn, what the hell, asshole." You glare down at the demon who only glares back up at you through his groans. Your hands take the bandana from around his neck, and retie it around his mouth to prevent any sounds coming out of him.
"Great, now lets get the fuck out of here!" Blitz grins, picking up the hostage and throwing him over his shoulder with a small struggle. You follow along close behind, eyes checking both sides of you with some slight paranoia. It already came to the point in the day where you were very much over this job. Why the fuck couldn't you guys have just stayed in the circus business?
"Y/N! Take out those assholes up on the catwalks!" Blitz points to a few more demons that were going to be next on your list for the day.
While the two of you ran for the far exit, your eyes follow up to where Blitz was looking.
You spot them. "Got it!" Your voice beams, and pulling out your gun, you aim for the straps that kept the walk attached to the ceiling. One shot, you took the one side of the catwalks down, which results in the demons falling and tumbling down to the floor of the warehouse.
"Fuck yeah!" Blitz laughs as he uses the tied hostage as a punching bag for other demons that try to stop the two of you. He swings the hostage demon around, using him as his own personal weapon, causing some slight laughter out of you, to which both you and blitz were surprised about.
The demons you caused to fall, start charging your way. With a quick thought, you take out the knife strapped to your side, and get ready to use it. Blitz grins over at you. "Remember to aim for the neck!" He calls out from ahead of you.
Your smile brightens at the teamwork you both have. "Thanks!"
A hand reaches for you, but with a stealthy slide to the side, you duck under the arms and push the torso of a demon down to the ground.
This was getting . . oddly easy.
You hop over the demon on the floor, and smile brightly over at Blitz.
With you catching up to his side, your lips stretch into a grin as you open the door to the warehouse for him. “Did you see?” Your question was almost eager sounding. Breaking out of the shyness of the situation, you’ve actually gained a bit more combat knowledge.
Blitz grins over at you, throwing the hostage to the ground as the both of you make it out, and find a safer area to catch your breaths.
“Hell yeah bitch!” Blitz looked so happy, giddy, even. It was so freaking cute.
“I knew teaching you my way would pay off.” He crosses his arms, a soft smirk on his face.
Your face flushed lightly, the shyness beginning to take over just a bit. Your shoulders shrug upward, and the smile on your face was light. “Thanks,”
“I’m proud of you.” Blitz’s voice is quieter than his usual loud and obnoxious form, but you still catch it. Your eyes widen a bit, and staring at him in a small shock is all you could do for a second. “Really?”
Blitz looks flustered, so you decide to let any teasing go. It wasn’t often he would give real compliments. Even if he did know you long enough, to.
“Of course, fuck face.” He replies, rolling his eyes with a smile still stuck to his face.
You bump his shoulder, grinning just a little harder than before. “Learned from the best.”
______________________
really sorry its not my best work,, just allot goin on in life rn but I still hope you liked it anyway ! <3
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ivesambrose · 11 months
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𝐽𝑢𝑙𝑦 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑀𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠
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1. 2. 3.
Damn .... July already.
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Gif 1
A month of clearing out everything that's been making you feel cluttered. This could be literal objects, old electronics that no longer work, empty bottles etc, health (taking care of your gut health mostly) people, mindsets, the unecessary ever growing screenshots on your phone, all of that. Clear everything out so something new can come in. The only reason you feel stuck is said clutter.
You'll also find hidden resources out of the blue that will aid you in your endeavours.
You'll see what you've achieved with discipline in your work as well as yoir mindset even if circumstances or what you were witnessing seemed like the opposite. Any conflict you face will also have a quick solution and resolution this in turn will make you sharper and smarter when it comes to dealing with people, yourself and situations ahead.
The desire to travel, learn, be independent and be adventurous will be highlighted this month. You'll feel like you're on your way towards something and even if it's a solo journey you have luck on your side.
Gif 2
A month of ideas, curiousity, awareness and analysis. You might be in your head a lot so please take a moment to simply breathe and/or touch grass in simple terms.
You'll be writing and reading a lot. If you're in sales, marketting, copywriting, content creation, translating, any work that requires interpretation, astrologer, tarot reader etc this is an eventful as well as progressive month for you. You'll be busy!
You might feel like there's an information overload sometimes so be mindful of what you consume. Take breaks from social media especially from time to time.
If you're applying for visa this month things will go smoothly, alternatively you may start making travel and relocation plans as well or get an opportunity as such. If you're planning for higher studies things will go well too. Some of you may also feel more spiritual and connected to your faith this month.
The desire to change your Outlook as well as your appearance and the way you present yourself will also be significant this month. You may not see the changes yourself at first but those around you or those who view you, will. So don't be surprised if you're catching people's attention a lot in July.
Gif 3
A month of surrendering to the divine and going with the flow. Strengthening your subconscious and your spiritual gifts. You'll likely realize that the compassion, forgiveness and understanding you have extended to others for the longest time, you haven't really extended the same to yourself.
You'll be trusting in the unseen a lot this month. Because eventually things will start falling in place. I believe you have been physically and mentally exhausted so you have stopped trying to make things happen and once you do, things start happening for you.
You'll be blessed with good health this month. More vitality, vigor and confidence. Not being afraid or shy to let yourself be seen.
The desire to be a little more of an idealist and even a little more choosy will be high this month. You may also communicate a lot with a sibling or friend and connect with them more. Will likely pick up a hobby of some sorts. Would want to photograph moments and memories more, romantize the simple moments of your life and travel short distances finding your favourite spots.
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its-in-the-woods · 6 days
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Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 4
Chapter one here, two here, three here
Pairing: Walton Goggins x You
Rating/Warning: As always minor get out. Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding, vague suggestions of sex
Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.
Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.
Note: they are both single, all for fun.
WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. Each chapter is roughly 2-3k long.
*releasing this early as I have a few days of being free. Thank you for all the love <3*
Trevor apologized about seven times in text before phoning you and apologizing again. You tell him ten times that it is fine and you were more than okay. Which then leads to about five hundred questions about what happened between you and Walton. The man will not take ‘nothing happened’ for an answer. 
“Trevor-Trev- oh-my-god could you shut up for one second,” You squeak into the phone, the man has not stopped talking since you picked up. 
“You woke up in his house! In his bed-”
“It was a guest room!”
“Are you sure? Did you see another room?”
“You are impossible right now. It was a spare room.”
“But he made you breakfast!”
You groan into the phone. “Trevor-”
“Like does that count as a date? Did you go on a date?”
“We did not go on a date. We did not sleep together. The only reason he didn’t take me home is because you wouldn’t answer your phone and I was beating anyone who asked where I lived.” You rush out, trying unsuccessfully to persuade him from asking again. 
“I give you mad props for beating on Leonard that man is a beast.”
You chuckle at that, Leonard looked like a cross between ex-military and Santa Clause. Thinking of yourself beating on him for touching you was hilariously ridiculous. The man was probably more inconvenienced than hurt. 
“So when is your next date?”
“TREVOR! We are not dating.”
“Yet. You’re not dating yet. Very important.”
You groan and bang your phone against your forehead in frustration.
“And don’t tell me it’s because he is older than you. I know you like to date older men.”
“I should have never told you that. Biggest mistake I have ever made.”
“Dirty old man fucker.” Trevor is cackling away in the background like some James Bond villain. 
“Oh my god Trevor. STAAP it.” You are also laughing, your damn friend was right. 
“You love it, and I know all about it,” Trevor sings songs into the phone.
“What about you and Decon?” You ask, changing the subject as smoothly as you can. At this rate, your face was going to be permanently red. 
“Oh. It was a wild night! I am looking forward to another one.” Trevor made some lewd noises.
“So gross, both of you. But I am very happy you’re happy.”
“I am over the moon,” Trevor is quiet for the first time, “He just treats me so well. I woke up and he was still there. Made sure I was comfy and took care of me”
“You’re so screwed.” You giggle, you had to give as good as you got. 
“Mmm, actually yes I am. And you should try it sometime.”
You groan again, “Yeah maybe in the next lifetime.”
“Oh, pffts. I give you another two weeks and I will be catching you sneaking off to his trailer.”
“I am rolling my eyes. Can you imagine if Liz got a whiff of anything?”
“What would she do? Fire you? You can’t fire a lead request.”
“I am sure she’d find a way. Or make me regret ever being on the show.”
“Pfftts. She can eat a bag of dicks. Actually, she may need to.”
You both break out into laughter at that comment. The two of you talk back and forth for a good hour. Before Travis is off to Decon’s again, you make gross gagging noises at him. Telling him to enjoy the rest of his weekend and you’d see him on Monday. 
You lay back on your bed staring up at your speckled ceiling, you had stuck up a handful of glowing stars to cover the water damage. Mind running over the weekend, running over the last month. You tell yourself that you’re delusional to think that Walton would ever be interested, but the thought is nice. The thought of going on dates, and well more, is delightful. Then again though, at the end of the day, you’re you. A thirty-something living in a studio apartment trying to break into a career that was over-saturated with a lot of talent. You rub your face, yep the picture of a prize.
***
You wake up early, determined not to let the sour mood you found yourself in over the weekend ruin this week. It’s a new day, anything is possible. Or something like that. You are already on the second cup of coffee, as your toast pops. Your phone jingles and you grab it to see who has decided to bother you this morning. 
“Hey, it’s Walton. Trevor gave me your number. We are running behind. See you soon.” Of course, Trevor would give him your number. You grumble at that, also at yourself for failing to realize you’d never given Walton yours. 
Your heart skips a little, you scold yourself for being ridiculous. “No problem, see you soon.”
“Do you want a coffee?”
“Yes, I’d love a coffee,”
“Same as usual?”
Now your face is pink as you stare at your phone screen. “Are you flipping fourteen again?” You say out loud to the room. “Stop this right now. You know better.” You curse and try to calm your damn heart. 
“Yes please.” You text back. 
You shake your head and finish eating your toast and grinning like a damn moron. Brushing your teeth, braiding your hair, and getting mostly looking human. It was a quarter to six in the damn morning anyway. If you were meant to look presentable this early you would have gone to bed earlier. Your phone buzzes reminding you that you need to get out of there. 
Grabbing your phone and purse you head out the door. Do your best to suppress the butterflies as you all but skip down the hallway. No matter how much you try to tell yourself that nothing will come of this, your heart is overruling your brain. Down the three flights of stairs and yep your heart is pounding in your chest enough to feel like a panic attack. You stop just before the front door, you can see the blackout line of an SUV through the glazed window. 
“Just go out there. It doesn’t matter what happens.” You take a deep breath. “And now you’re talking to yourself outside a door like a lunatic.”
Pushing through the door into the grey rainy early morning, you see Leonard standing beside the car with a small smile. The man reminds you of a Grandpa, big and gruff, but at the same time soft and kind. His arms folded across his chest, shoulder-length white beard blowing in the wind.
“Good morning Leonard, I heard I made quite the scene on Friday.” You smile as he opens the door for you.
“Just making sure you got home safe,” The man smiles, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. 
“I would like to apologize, I definitely won’t make a habit of it.” You say, giving his arm a quick squeeze, as you get into the SUV. It was the least you could do, you’d have to ask Walton what the man liked to drink. A small token of thanks only seemed fair. 
“Well, if you stay in my company it may become one,” Walton says with that damn smile gracing his face. He was wearing loose-fitting blank pants, a grey zipped-up jacket, and glasses as he read over the script in front of him. 
“Promise, I’ve seen worse dear,” Leonard says before closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. 
You look at Walton and can’t help but smile back at him, “Who says I am going to hang out with you more.” 
Walton chuckles, taking his glasses off to look at you, “We will have to see about that.” 
You’re both sitting on opposite sides of a bench seat, but his hand finds yours and you don’t pull away. He talks about walking along the seawalls and a lazy Sunday spent indoors reading novels. You really wished you had been a bit more willing to spend the weekend with him. Somehow you end up telling him about your sketches and artwork. Your thoughts about one day doing prop creation, or maybe special effects. He asks about the sketches and you promise to bring one of your art books in. 
The ride is way too quick, and before you know it you’re being dropped off at your trailer. You thank both men again for the ride and hop into the trailer. 
Liz is sitting in your usual workspace, her face is a tight line that makes you feel sick. Why she was there was another question, the whole crew was supposed to three cities over setting up. 
“Hey, Liz,” You say, trying not to sound like you just walked into a swamp full of alligators.
“Of all the people, I would have expected you to be the most professional.” Your heart thuds in your chest at the words, wondering what the hell she is talking about. 
Sitting your bag down by your cupboard you turn to look at the women. “I am sorry?” 
“You think people didn’t see you leaving with the leading actor on Friday?” The woman sneers at you, her voice low but full of venom.
You put two and two together suddenly realizing what Liz was talking about. For a moment you’re stunned by the fact that the rumor mill had run so fast and far. “He was just making sure I got home safe.”
“Oh give me a break.” The woman hisses, your heart pounding in your ears now. Chest tight making it hard to breathe. “No one is that stupid girl. I saw you get out of the his SUV”
Your face goes red and something inside of you snaps. “First. Do not speak to me like I am a child.” You're angry now, and you’re so over the bullshit. “Second, what happens in my personal life is none of your business.”
“You think it looks professional to be running around after some actor?” She spits back, and your mind races to the rumor Trevor had told you about. 
“Well, it can’t be any less professional than you sleeping with half the production team.” The words come out of your mouth before you register them. It was only a rumor, but Trevor rarely dabbled in things that weren’t at least partially true. 
“You little witch.” Liz’s face is now red and she looks hurt. Yep, Trevor had hit the nail on the head with that one. “I should fire you right now.”
You glare at her, all your inhibitions set aside, you know you have the upper hand here.  “Go ahead, Liz. Fire me. See how well that goes over for you.”
Liz’s face clenches and you can tell you have her cornered. Yes, she could fire you and could make a big stink, but chances are the production won’t sanction it. Not to mention the union would have a fit. You would make sure of that. It wasn’t something you wanted to do, but damn, two could play at this game. 
“You-” Liz hisses standing and moving toward you, but you refuse to move, letting the woman get up in your face. “I will be grabbing some of my product and leaving you for the rest of the week. I hope it goes well.” 
She is gone with a blue tote a moment later. You are left standing in the middle of the trailer taken off guard. The fact that she’d come here, heard from a third party what had happened, and then decided to confront you. Part of you wants to cry and the other part wants to laugh. The most you’ve done with the man is hold his hand and everyone thinks you both were screwing over the weekend. You slide into your chair still a little baffled by the incident, not to mention that Liz would even suggest firing you. Your stomach rolls and you feel a little sick, tears now welling at the corner of your eyes. 
The door opens and you expect Trevor but it's Walton. The smile on his face falls immediately as he sees you.
“What happened?” He asked, quickly shutting the door, placing a breakfast burrito and two coffees on your station.
You shake your head and tears fall from your eyes. Hands covering your mouth as a small sob comes out. The rollercoaster of a morning is finally getting to you. Walton is in front of you gathering you up in his arms. He is warm and gentle, you try not to let the emotions overflow but it's too late. Leaning against him you cry. He smelled like coffee and vanilla, his jacket was soft against your cheek. Strong arms holding you against him as all your feelings spill out. You let yourself cry for a moment before you steel yourself enough to pull back. He's handing you tissues and you plunk yourself back into the chair feeling worn out and dazed.  Walton crouched in front of you eyebrows furrowed as you blew your nose. His hand landing gently on your knees as he comforts you. 
“What's going on Hon?” He asks as he rubs a soothing hand over your knee.
“It's -” You falter, unsure of how to explain the absolute bullshit that just happened. “Liz was upset about me going out on Friday”
Walton looks even more confused. “Why would that matter?” 
You rub your face trying to figure out how to say this. The amount of bullshit that happened was just ridiculous and you really didn’t want to drag him into it. Ultimately, you just say it cause there isn't a way around it. 
“Someone saw the two of us leave together.” You swallow your mouth going dry. “Liz made assumptions and told me I was being unprofessional. She threatened to fire me.”
Walton stands grabs his coffee and takes a sip. “I am not sure how that is any of her business. You've been very professional, and being fired would be detrimental to the whole process. You are a key part of this team, and her sticking her nose in your business is more unprofessional ” 
You just shrug, if you could go curl up in a ball for an hour you would. Just hide away, you can barely look at him. Shame hitting you at the fact you’d lost your cool over something so trivial. 
“It was just unexpected. And very hurtful.” You wipe your eyes, cursing that you need to reapply to your eyeliner. 
“Of course it was.” He comes back over and grabs your hand in his. They are always so warm. “You don't deserve to be spoken to like that. I am tempted to mention this to the PM.”
You shake your head looking at him finally. “It’s not the worst thing that's been said to me. Liz means well.”
Whether that was true or not was up in the air. Liz was a lot of things but she usually wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, which is why it had come off so shocking. The woman didn’t exactly have a way with words, but she had to have meant well.
“She means well?” He looks at you with eyebrows raised, his lips pressed into a firm line. Judging by his expression Walton didn’t believe that any more than you did. 
You swallow, “I- I need to have thick skin to do this job. It's not easy and people are always going to look for ways to judge me or demean my work.”
Walton squeezed your hand, “That may be true. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.”
The door to the trailer opens as Trevor walks in. His eyes look between both of you and then down to where Walton is holding your hand.
“Uhh, I will go wait outside..” Trevor flushes trying unsuccessfully to back himself down the steps. 
“No, it's okay.” You both say. 
Trevor pauses. Then proceeds to come in. Walton rubs his thumb over your hand before letting go. You wish he would stay, but there really wasn’t time for any more sappiness. 
“I am going to head over to costumes. They needed to do some alteration on a piece.” Walton says briskly grabbing his coffee and sliding the burrito across to you. He's out the door before you can say thank you.
Trevor is sitting there with a shit-eating grin, his feet dangling as he watches Walton go.
“So you aren't dating?” He chuckles, turning to lay out his tools. 
You groan, looking in the mirror to fix your eyeliner and clean off some fallen mascara, “He was being kind. Liz was here this morning. Guess someone told her about me leaving with Walt on Friday.”
Trevor's smile fades as he looks at you, “Those milling bastards.”
“Yep. Liz was unimpressed and threatened to fire me.”
“She wouldn't.” He all but stomped his foot. 
“Well, I am sure I will find out in the next few days.” You pray to whoever is up there that Liz would just leave it be. 
“Liz is many things. But she isn't stupid. Firing you would be more of a problem than it's worth.” You knew Trevor was right, but it did sting a little. 
“You're more than likely right. But it still hurts. Walton came in right after the argument and I will-” You look down at your feet remembering how upset he looked. 
“Had a small breakdown?” Trevor added in, trying to look at you.
“Yeah. Snot and all” You sigh as you double-check that everything you need is out and clean. 
“You should go out with him just to spit Liz.” He chuckles as he texts someone on his phone.
“If. And it's a big if. Trevor, I am going out with him. It's because we both want to. Not because of Liz.” You say firmly, that woman would not dictate your life. 
Trevor looks up from his phone.”Two weeks, three weeks, top before you are making his trailer shake”
You make a face, “You're disgusting.”
“You like it!” Trevor smiles, and you do. It was part of his never-ending charm. 
***
Chapter five
*So so much love to every one of you <3*
*If you want to be tagged in the next chapters please let me know*
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respectthepetty · 6 months
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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 1-2
Because I have asks in my inbox about the color coding in Pit Babe even though I don't want to watch it, I'm going to challenge myself with this show and see how good my color skills really are. I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, I'm going to take off the captions.
*stretches body and pops neck* I'm going in.
Episode 1
The first episode established this tale is red versus blue.
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Therefore, I do not trust these two. If this was West Side Story, we'd have a rumble on our hands.
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I already know this one, *looks at MDL* Charlie is a Blue Boy but he isn't on the team. He is trying hard to fit in, so he came prepared.
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The red is gonna win this. The smoke said it.
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The blue is gonna win this round. The smoke said it.
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The lighting outside of the house was normal and dark, but as soon as they opened the door, RED LIGHTING!
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Someone is lying. But who? Charles, you have more red. You have some explaining to do, sir.
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WAIT! Who picked this spot? These is a lot of red here and Babe is in black and red. HE IS THE RED?! Or is this just a neutral space for the reds x blues to mingle?
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Something is happening with the red squad, and it does not spark joy in either of these LIARS!
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Episode 2
This man is Big Red. He has the red cars behind him and earlier he had the red scissor kit, so he is also red flags.
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This is a blurry image, but Babe has red pants on when he is getting beat up by Big Red in the flashback, so . . . Babe is the red. He defected to the blues, so now Big Red and him have beef. Also, homie holding him back looked sad. He will be an asset later.
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No! We are NOT doing a dark versus light dynamic! I DON'T CARE IF CHARLES BRINGS LIGHT TO YOUR LIFE, BARBRA!
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Wearing blue while meeting with someone who drinks red milkshakes? SUS!
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Of course Big Red would like the only driver out of the three who had the red car. Way to be predictable, Big Red.
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I DON'T TRUST THIS MAN! He came in like Charles in blue, but he has a red bag. Was he the one Charles was speaking to with the red milkshake? And these two in the back are still doing their red-and-blue bullshit! Oh hell nah! GET THEM OUTTA HERE! Cars are gonna catch on fire. I know that for damn sure.
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OH SHIT IT WAS HIM! The colors never lie. So Charles IS a red too!
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So is this gonna be Rihanna's "We found love in a hopeless place" and these two are going to break away from the red versus blue battle and become dark and light balanced instead? Because they just walked into a neutral space FILLED with red and blue yet still fighting people. Send me a memo, show. Also, I appreciate that Babe is a Slut for Christ.
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CHARLES IS WEARING RED GLOVES! Was this fight thrown?! Was this was all a show with the new red driver?
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The dark and the light clothing. The column between them. The red car backing Charles while he has the blue shirt, but he picks the blue car. They are going to breakaway from the norm and do their own thing. I feel it.
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So . . . Charles can't drive, and Barbara is yelling at him now. I hope this is the red team slandering both of them in the media because how did Charles come onto a gay RACING team not able to drive stick? That's gay agenda item #1 - know how to handle a stick.
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THESE TWO AGAIN! I 👏🏾 don't 👏🏾 trust 👏🏾 them 👏🏾.
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Barbara and Charles are arguing again while Charles is in full blue (and that Ken with the magic earring necklace!)
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Oh, Way knows Charles is up to something, but I'm more concerned with this man in black. That's the one who works for Big Red and held Babe back. I know he is still on Big Red's payroll because of episode one, so . . . What do you want with our Barbie?!
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I feel good about this. The smoke told me the winners of the race. The milkshake and bag told me that newbie mechanic was no bueno. I'm going to commit to this adventure. No sound. No captions. Just vibes and colors.
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simpinformonkies · 11 months
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YO may i have some hc about wukong and mac having an so whos a good fighter but is also hella clumsy? :P
Of course! I'll do my best! For this, I used a Fem!S/O! These are a... wee bit graphic violence, but just a little.
Wukong
-When he first met you, it was because MK was wanting to introduce him to Tang's cousin (who acted like an aunt to MK).
-Imagine Wukong's surprise when MK pulls him to an underground fighting arena and points to a woman throwing fucking hands in the ring, matching punch after punch with a man three times her body mass.
-"That's auntie!" The boy had told him, pointing to you just as you slammed your boxing gloves against the opposing man's jaw, flinging his body against one of the four quadrant poles. "Isn't she cool?!"
-...Wukong was a little scared of you to be quite honest, no matter what MK said- you just seemed like a scary woman! (It was baffling that you were related to Tang of all people.)
-Then MK pulled him into the waiting room and called out your name while he pulled at his mentor's sleeve, and you perked up from your water bottle and brighten considerably when your eyes catch MK. You stand and move to walk towards him-
-only to trip over your own feet and slam your face into one of the metal seats, breaking your nose.
-It was really hard to fear you when you were that clumsy outside a fight.
-Given something to hold? Uh oh, butter fingers!
-Trying to get from point A to point B? You trip over your own feet upon taking the first step.
-Trying to eat with chopsticks? Good luck.
-Wukong found it genuinely difficult to fear or be wary you due to your overwhelming clumsiness, but the one time he saw it fail to appear is one he won't forget.
-MK had been fighting a demon that was playing tricks and being an asshole, and almost broke the poor boy's ankle, and you threw yourself into the fight and started wailing on the opposing demon with your lips curled in rage and eyes mere pinpricks.
-Wukong took care of MK with the others, but he was openly gaping at seeing you grab the demon's arm and just start slamming him down on the ground from side to side as if he was a goddamn children's toy.
-You finished it by smashing your fist against the demon's jaw and breaking it, the sick crunching of bone echoing through the air as the demon's body is thrown back against the wall, slumping pathetically as you stand across from him, breathing heavily with blood and bruises coating your knuckles.
-Wukong found that so absurdly attractive that it wasn't even funny.
-Then your personality flipped on a dime, and you turned to rush towards MK only to trip on a stray rock and faceplant.
-...Yeah, Wukong was in love.
-And if he asked you on a date the following week, with your favorite flowers and a box of chocolates and looking so damn nervous, you didn't mind.
-And if you just so happened to say yes to his proposal of dating, well, that's business between the two of you.
-(Except not really, because god forbid secrets be kept when you're dating the Stone Monkey himself, and the 'aunt figure' to the main crew.)
~~~~~~~~
Macaque
-The first time Macaque met you was when he stole food from your house, and it was only thanks to his sensitive ears and the whispers of the shadows that he managed to dodge your punch that shattered your counter like glass, your eyes glowing softly in the dark and a scowl curled on your lips.
-You kept trying to wail punches on the monkey demon, narrowly missing since he was just a little bit faster (well, a lot faster, but he was curious about you), and he only managed to slip away unharmed and with plenty of food when you slipped on the rug and tumbled to the floor.
-Macaque had a good laugh about that for days.
-Somehow, you ended up amusing him, and anytime he needed (or, well, wanted) food, he would just shadow-port to your home and steal it, making sure that you were home when he did it just to piss you off more.
-He honestly just wanted to see you trip on something stupid again, the bastard.
-But weeks of this same schedule, this same song and dance weighed on you, and you just decided 'fuck it' and didn't even attempt to fight the invading monkey demon anymore, merely rolling your eyes whenever he attempted to catch your attention.
-...Didn't mean you still didn't trip around your own goddamn house like a newborn fawn just learning to use its legs.
-Except you were an adult, and this is embarrassing.
-Anytime you'd see- or, god forbid, hear- him laugh at you, you'd flush red and grab the nearest object to throw at him, uncaring of its value or how breakable it is- you just wanted one clean fucking shot on that bastard monkey dammit!
-It wasn't your fault you were clumsy! It was your stupid body's fault! You were lucky to train the clumsiness out of your fights, but it seems like anytime other than that its 'Let's fuck up this dumb bitch's day and make her look like a failure' day.
-...You had insecurities, so what? You're an adult, you're allowed them.
-Months after meeting Macaque- and practically letting him crash at your place, because he's like a stray cat at this point and you're too tired to kick him out- you find him fighting some imp demon, and while he didn't look in trouble, Macaque was holding his side, crimson leaking through his fingers.
-You threw yourself at the demon as quick as a lightning strike, and tussle with the creature, slamming your fist against its upper stomach and crunching its ribs, and sending an twirled axel kick to the side of its head before grabbing Macaque and running towards your apartment while the demon was down and dazed.
-Once inside, you almost tripped again but managed not to (huge success on your part) and push Macaque to sit on the couch while you riffle around the bathroom for your first aid kid. Who cares if Macaque is a demon that heals quickly? You're going to bandage him up weither he likes it or not dammit!
-You wrap the cloth around his wound- pointedly ignoring looking anywhere else- and spit curses both at him and the demon, your words lacking any real bite (well, bite towards Macaque), but the shadow monkey is just silent, his tail swaying gently behind him- the motion slow. Thoughtful.
-Somehow, that event of beating up a demon for him and bandaging him up just made Macaque move into your house, and now you're not only rooming with the monkey demon, but dating him.
-Yeah, you have no idea how this happened either.
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hai7ani · 6 months
Text
ANATHEMA beelzebub
sfw
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the demonic destrudo. デストルドー
一 Eden has always grown the best apples.
It's a known fact all throughout Valhalla. Samael has always loved dragging you there with him to pick (or more like steal) apples with his friends, Lucifer and Azazel -- and the four of you would always get chased out and away by a few of the guards after.
That's also where you'd first met him.
He's leaning against the gate, a half-eaten apple that is still so red, still so fresh -- the wax reflective and shiny against the sun -- bouncing up and down against his palm in the air and the other hand pocketed in his coat.
And he looks at you -- dressed in what could be the most finest silk made in Heaven, and a book is gripped tight in your hand as you walk up to him in careful steps, skilfully avoiding the twigs and mud on the ground.
"Hello. I am,” you pause abruptly, head pointing down to stare at the ladybug crawling up your dress. You bring your pointer to it and watch as it climbs up your finger -- it stays, and you admire it. His eyes widen just a little at your kindness -- your desire to love and shine radiating brightly around your figure -- and you look at him again. You could tell he's avoiding your eyes, so you move to where his vision covers and meet him there. He lets out a breath. You continue. "I'm here for Samael. Have you seen him?"
His ears perks up at the mention of a familiar name, and it's when you smile -- the slightly higher lift on the left corner of your lips, and eyes as wide as the Sun -- that he finally sees the resemblance of you and the said man.
So you're an angel just like the three of them, he connects, and he makes it a note to stay away from you; he gets himself to swear to never look into your eyes. Ever.
I cannot afford to hurt such an innocent soul.
But he gets distracted when you reach a hand up to swipe away a dead, fallen leaf on his shoulder.
He catches your eye by accident -- they fold into thin crescents when you finish. He doesn't look away, and instead of loathing it, he finds himself to be rather enjoying your attention on him. But habit pushes him to scan you through for any malicious intent.
He doesn't find any.
And he falls without himself knowing.
"There." You're grinning now, and he mentally curses you with a scowl -- for being so pretty, so kind, so gentle.
Stupid, stupid woman. You are too nice to me.
For what?
He doesn't deserve it.
I am cursed. I am misfortune. I am the devil.
You must stay away.
Though your smile falters a little at his expression.
"Oh, I am sorry. It wasn't meant to be anything. I always do it for my brother . . . I'm sorry."
You bunch up the bottom half of your dress and take a step back, thinking that you must have crossed a boundary -- and you break the eye contact in the process.
That was the last straw.
He thinks he hasn't hated himself so much in eons, and that's a lot coming from someone who has loathed his entire identity his whole life.
You turn your back to him and wait by the gate -- as if nothing has happened; as if nothing has ever happened. Your dress sways with the wind and he thinks you look tiny. You seem regretful. You feel dejected. The atmosphere is tense. You're quiet; you're nothing like the girl who walked up to him. His nose flares at his thoughts, eyeballs vibrating in his sockets out of anger towards himself for making you feel this way.
He doesn't like that it is because of him. He wants to reach out to you; to tell you that he didn't mean to look at you that way -- it wasn't meant for you at all, that he knows where Samael is -- still inside, still busy stealing apples from the orchard. He wants to look into your eyes again. He wants to know your name -- he knows you are more than just Samael's sister. He wants to hear you speak again.
His left foot lifts from the ground.
But damned Samael emerges from the entrance, and you immediately morph into a bright doll at your brother's appearance, seemingly having to forgotten about the little moment you'd shared with the man who's standing five feet away from you. His breath hitches in his throat, left boot stopping halfway in the air, and it moves back down to match his footprint on the grass -- where it was; where it should be.
He swallows.
That's right. Know your place, fool. You cannot afford to hurt her.
"I gotta go. Lucifer, Azazel, ya guys better walk Beelzebub home, 'kay? See ya." Samael bids his friends goodbye with you walking beside and holding a matching apple in your hand. You wipe the wax off on your dress to take a big satisfying bite, and the crunch echoes across the proximity of your group. Azazel drools a little at the sound and moves to grab one for himself, and he offers his friend one, too.
He shakes his head.
And you hum at the taste; it's just like Samael said -- sweet and juicy, you ought to like it.
Though you turn your head back in a hurry as if you'd forgotten something, and Lucifer's eyes nearly pops out of its sockets when you don't look at him nor Azazel, but rather at the man who is standing in between the both of them -- shoulders shrunken in to give himself some security, some comfort -- and he seems a bit timid to you despite the gloomy expression planted on a man who fits everything that Mother has always told you to stay away from.
Mother's always said to stay away from sad boys -- the ones who never speak and never talk. They ought to bring bad news someday.
He stuns when it's your turn to catch his eyes instead.
It's okay, Mother. I like him.
"I'll see you again, Beelzebub."
Your lips are wet with juice as you say it -- the corners lifted into a shy little smile as you quickly turn back and try hard to ignore your brother's suspicious gaze -- and he flushes a bright red when Lucifer brings a hand up to slap him hard on the shoulder. Him, an immortal, winces a little at it, but still, he refuses to acknowledge any of his friends' fits and whines as he rubs a palm over the sting that almost feels like a burn.
Lucifer and his damn strength.
He clicks his tongue a little.
"The hell?! Did'cha talk to her? Tell me!" Lucifer pushes, but Beelzebub doesn't reply. Heck, none of them even believes he's in the right mind to speak to anyone with how he's still so stunned from it -- how you were still so nice to him, despite all that he's made you felt earlier.
Beelzebub stares at your disappearing figure as you stroll out of the forest with your brother, and many thoughts runs through his logical mind.
You'll hurt her. Stay away.
You are cursed. You'll bring nothing but harm.
Stay away.
Guess he'll have to betray it this time.
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this was interesting to write :0 i might finish this some day
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