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#so of course my panic is trying to convince me that the weird feeling is that

webslingingslasher · 2 months

Note

cherry buys the cherry lube (best kind) as her last step to convince peter to fuck her and he just sighs JDBDDN

she’s just a girl😔 he needs to give her what she wants! in the name of feminism

an: nsfw content!

sitting crisscrossed in peter’s bed, you reach over the side to grab a small bag from your backpack. the thin plastic had three red thank you’s printed across it. you raise it over your head and give it a shimmy.

‘guess what i got?’

‘a lamborghini.’

‘so close! okay, you know that sex shop off that exit with the chinese place?’

‘no.’

‘oh. i’ll have to take you-’

‘no thanks.’

‘- but i went there and i found something. something i think you’d like and something you think we’d need.’

‘i’m scared.’

‘i’m not!’ you shake out the bag, a palm sized bottle of lube falls, it lands on your lap and you quickly present it to peter with a proud smile.

‘lube?’ you shove it out into his hands, ‘look at the flavor!’ peter squints at the bottle, then scoffs. ‘really? cherry?’

‘oh c’mon, it’s perfect!’ you start listing off why, ‘you call me cherry, you’re taking my cherry, and it’s cherry lube, to do said previous thing.’

you’re waiting for his excitement, you reach forward to push at his cheeks, forcing a smile. ‘what? you don’t find it funny? i thought i’d at least get a chuckle from you.’

peter watches as you tear the plastic around the cap with your teeth. ‘do you think it actually tastes like cherry?’ you stick out your tongue and put a small drop on it, you hold it out to peter and wave your hand along.

he’s got hesitant eyes when his own darts out, you give him the same amount. your face sours at the taste, peter has a poker face. ‘ew.’ it sticks around, you wipe your tongue off with your shirt.

'that was gross- unless you like it, i assume you'd be doing most of the tasting.' peter tosses the bottle into a trashcan you didn't know he had. 'is that new?' peter shakes his head, you tilt yours and try to place it. 'weird. never noticed it before. also, you owe me four dollars.'

'why do i have to pay you back?'

'you threw it away.'

'it was inedible.'

'false. i could've used it by myself.'

'go dig it out then.'

'i deserve more than trash lube, peter.'

'consider it a favor, you shouldn't be using scentsy stuff down below. i've heard they don't like it.'

you squint at him, 'what's it for then?' peter looks down at his crotch, 'blowjobs.' you drop your mouth a little, that hadn't occurred to you. 'oh, i see.' you have a moment where things click into place. 'so that would also explain flavored condoms.'

'please tell me you didn't get flavored condoms.'

'of course not.'

peter relaxes, you prefer him on edge.

'i don't know what size you wear. is it a one size fits all thing cause i've seen those videos where people hang them out the car window and they turn into balloons.'

'think of it as a pair of leggings. could you fit into a pair three sizes too small? sure can. is it comfortable? absolutely not.'

‘and ones that are too big just fall off? that explains a lot, actually.’

‘personally, i’d be more mortified if a condom came off because it was too big versus just admitting i need a smaller size.’

your eye twinkles, ‘and what size are you?’

‘you buy the tampons, i buy the condoms. deal?’ you can't lie, learning male anatomy has been your favorite part in all of this.

peter lays back with his hands behind his head, you straddle his lap and he's watching with close eyes. 'what? i can't get comfortable?'

he smiles. sometimes you get a ping in your lower stomach when he looks at you like that.

'all this bedspace and you choose to get comfortable on me?'

'i have a feeling this will be my favorite seat.' a smug grin.

'you're bold for a virgin.'

'would you rather me be scared to be near you, a man with a penis?' peter's head tilts, you know what's coming. 'oh? so you didn't have a panic attack when you saw my dick?'

you twitch your nose at the quip, you pat his tummy, hovering over his waistline. 'speaking of, you should let me see him again. i'm prepared and i wanna touch.'

peter's ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he doesn't like the gleam in your eye. 'or... i think i have a suggestion for how you can make up the four dollars you owe me.'

'i owe you nothing, but lets hear it.'

you act out your words. 'you,' you point at him. 'me,' you point at yourself. 'having sex,' you gesture to your placement, then the bare spot next to him. before he can ruin it, you continue. 'right now.'

'do you think if you keep asking i'll say yes on a whim?' you lean in, inches from his face. 'you want to have sex with me. you want to take me to pound town. you want to make me a real woman.' it's a poor attempt at hypnotizing.

'okay, well, being a virgin doesn't mean you're not a real woman. second, you still get nervous about making out with me. you're not ready for sex.'

okay, maybe so. it's not your fault you don't know how to act around him, he's the first guy you've seen for longer than a week and he's not your boyfriend.

'i'm not anxious about kissing you.'

'oh, really? do it then.' he called your bluff. you've kissed people before but this whole arrangement was peter's idea so you've left all the initiation to him.

'fine, i'll kiss you.' you make no movements.

'i'm waiting.' you swallow tightly and move in, he's got that smile that makes your heart beat fast, you still haven't pinpointed why. 'i'm going to kiss you.' peter nods, 'go ahead.'

you get closer, 'i'm seriously gonna do it.'

'c'mon, cherry. i hate a tease.' you power through the part of your brain that tells you you've never kissed a guy, you've always waited for them to kiss you. you hold your breath and land a peck on his mouth.

'there. i did it.'

'did what? kiss me like i dared you?’ he finds it funny, that's what you get for being bold. you won't make him laugh this time. you move quick, your lips melt over his, you always forget how good of a kisser he is until you have your mouth on his and you never want to separate again.

it becomes sloppy, when you lick his bottom lip peter groans, it sends a spark to your thighs and you involuntarily clench around nothing. you gasp when you're flipped onto your back, peter's dotting a line over your jaw.

when a rough hand skids under your shirt, you suck in a breath.

'relax.'

it's easier said than done. peter's right, you talk a big game but when he actually tries to do what you want, you hit the panic button.

'sorry, i was just thinking about the four bucks you owe me.'

'don't lie when i'm about to get handsy.' you squirm when fingers tuck themselves into the band of your bra. 'handsy how?' it's peter's turn to take control.

'how do you feel about hitting second base?'

'you're gonna finger me?' your voice pitches while your mind starts racing, you weren't prepared for this. 'easy, killer. second base is just me feeling you up, when you're ready for more, let me know.'

relief floods you, you get more comfortable underneath him. 'oh, okay. yeah, you can get handsy. do you want me to take my shirt off?'

'i want to suck your tits, you decide.'

your entire body flushes warmth, your cheeks are like lava. 'oh! i've never had that done. does it feel good?'

'i don't know, but i'm here if you want to find out.' you nibble on your bottom lip, it's all about eventually having sex and part of that might include your boobs.

'i'd like to find out.'

peter doesn't rush into it. for someone who doesn't like to be teased, he loves teasing. it feels like an hour passes before you're bare chested, a slurry of insecurity flashes when he doesn't immediately go to town.

'you're beautiful.' peter feels a little silly saying it, he hasn't really complimented a girl so softly under the guise of sex before.

your heart pounds, you've never heard it said so authentically. peter genuinely believes what he's saying, you don't think a guy has ever called you beautiful. you've gotten hot and sexy but never beautiful. you feel the need to give him something back.

'you're handsome.' you might be bad at this, you feel his smile in the crook of your neck.

'thanks, cherry.'

slow marks dance over your collarbones, when they reach your chest you almost flinch. 'i'm okay.' you were speaking to yourself, but maybe peter also needs the reminder. 'are you trying to convince me or yourself?'

'yes.'

'you can tap out. no harm, no foul.' no, you got this far and if you back out it would be taking ten steps backwards. 'i'm not tapping out, i'm waiting to see if what you're saying is worth all the hoopla.'

peter snorts, 'hoopla.' you're about to give a rebuttal, instead you grip the back of his head and let out a breathy 'oh wow,' when peter swirls his tongue around you.

it's igniting you all over, you don't know why you thought it would feel bad. when there's a vacuum seal and peter starts sucking, you're a goner. when he mixes in that little twirl method, you let out an earth shattering moan.

your hand slams over your mouth. 'sorry! i've never done that before and i-' there's a dark look in peter's eyes, you can't decide if he's more upset about your words or making him stop.

'don't ever apologize for your pleasure. got it?' you nod quickly, you'd agree to anything if it meant peter would keep going. 'okay, okay, got it.' it's all he needs and he's back to work, the breast he doesn't have in his mouth is being treated with his hand.

there's double sensation, peter's going back and forth and now you can't think straight and... and... you're about to come and you've never done that in front of another person.

'please stop!'

peter drops his mouth open and freezes, he's moving with caution when he pulls away from you. you race for air while the knot in your stomach slowly untangles.

'are you okay?' peter's looking over every inch of your body, you smile sheepishly and look anywhere but him. 'yeah. i was just like... you know?'

'no.'

'i was gonna... you know? and i've never done that with another person.' peter's trying to jump through the hoops of your 'you know?'s' you say that a lot and very rarely does he actually know what you mean.

'you were about to come?' everything burns, how is he so casual about all of this? 'yeah.' the look on his face tells you he already knew that. 'what did you think the point was? just for fun?'

'you didn't tell me that! how was i supposed to know?' he gives a half shrug. 'it gets some people off and others need more. it was a gamble, nice to know which crowd you fit in though.'

you feel a bit silly, of course that was the intention. wasn't this whole thing about your pleasure? 'if you get me off, i have to get you off.' peter's quick to shut you down.

'you don't have to do anything. sex isn't transactional.'

'yeah, but, peter, i want to please you too. this doesn't do much for me if you keep me away from you.' peter takes your concern to heart, he nods thoughtfully and calmly explains his hesitation.

'i understand that, and i promise we'll get there. mutual pleasure is something we need to conquer before sex, yes. but for right now, as someone who's done those things for a while, i'm on the backburner. i need to catch you up to speed on some things first, okay? you've never come in front of someone, you don't need to be trying to tack blowjob skills on top of that.'

peter has an excellent argument, you just feel bad he's not getting anything in return. he doesn't owe you anything, he's just doing you a favor and he absolutely doesn't owe you loyalty. it's not like peter likes you, he's just doing you a favor, that's all this is.

'just because...' your tongue feels thick, it feels hard to say what you're about to say and you don't know why. 'just because you're helping me out doesn't mean you have to suffer. so if you want to hookup with someone more experienced while we-'

'no. that's not what this is about, that mentality is why we're not just jumping into sex. cherry lube or not.' you don't know why that relieves you, you don't know why you feel so much better knowing peter wasn't looking for anything with anyone else.

just in case; 'if you do hook up with someone else-'

'i won't.'

'-i believe you. but if you do, can you promise not to tell me? if you need to take care of yourself outside of this just don't let me find out, please.' it'd be crushing to know what peter's doing with you while knowing he's doing the same thing with another girl who could actually pleasure him back.

'cherry, seriously, that's not what this is about.' it's sex. it's only about sex. how could you be confusing it?

'sex is about open and honest communication. it's about trusting each other and being vulnerable. it doesn't matter if it's a one night stand or a committed relationship, it takes a lot to open up to someone else like that. if, and i wouldn't, but i'll entertain you- if i wanted to step out of this, i'd tell you first, because that's what you're supposed to do.'

when you picked peter out of the line of frat boys you had no idea you got the one who was all about slow and steady. you expected a quick one night and to be sent off to live the world as a non-virgin, not the beefy gentleman in front of you.

'you're one of a kind, parker.' peter winks at you, you feel warm. 'same to you, cherry. this only works if we're open with each other, i'm not just teaching you the physical parts of sex, i'm trying to show you the mental and emotional side of it because that's way more important than the actual sex, does that make sense?'

you think you get what he's saying. 'so, because you already know these things, your pleasure doesn't matter right now?'

'correct.'

'and if it matters to me?'

'don't let it. because if it becomes an issue i'll...' he trails off, he's waiting on you to finish it for him. you'll prove you've been listening. 'tell me.'

'bingo! look at you, cherry smart.' you groan, 'that was gross.' peter squeezes your knee, he's looking over your face for any hesitation, he doesn't see any.

'are we good? we're on the same page now?'

you nibble on your bottom lip, you think you covered everything. you didn't know there were so many things to sex. 'yeah, same page.' peter's happy with that, he nods once and turns back on the horny part of his brain.

'still wanna call it quits or keep going?'

same page, same page, same page, same-

'keep going.' you sound nervous, peter catches it. 'are you sure? we can put it on pause and-'

'no, i wanna...' time to be a big girl, you're both on the same page. 'i wanna have you make me...' you lose your tenacity but you still power through, even if you mumble the last word. 'come.'

peter tells you if you wanna stop, at any point for any reason, just call it like you did before. you agree but tell yourself you were going to get through it because the sooner you open yourself up for pleasure, the sooner peter opens himself up for the same thing.

it's not a hard thing to power through, this time you're not shy about quiet whimpers or tugging at the back of peter's hair. 'oh my god,' you squeeze your eyes shut, there are zings of want being sent into your core, it's an unreal feeling.

peter grazes his teeth over your nipple, your back arches from his bed. 'okay, yeah, shit, fuck, okay.' you're bad at staying calm, peter's humming into your skin, you want more. you want everything he's given you multiplied by ten.

a switch to your left breast, it's just as satisfying. when his thumb tweaks your bud, you push up further. 'i want more, please more.' you don't know what you're asking for, you're hoping peter will help you out.

peter sucks harshly, your breath hitches and at that perfect moment, he grinds his hips into yours. an egregious moan rips from your throat, you can't help the tumbling whimper, it sounds pathetic. peter must like it, he rolls harsher, his jeans meet your bottoms perfectly.

'doin' okay?' you answer by shoving his head back down. 'mhm, keep doing that please.' peter follows the instruction, whatever gets you off, he'll do.

bump and grind, he's back on your right tit. it's been ten minutes but you can already tell he prefers that one. it took longer to build because you edged yourself, but peter hit that one spot and your thighs are a vice grip around his hips.

'oh my fucking god, peter.' he said he doesn't know if it would feel good, you wish you could share a fraction of what you're experiencing. your lower stomach tightens, peter latches down harder as if he has a sixth sense for what you're about to do.

you don't know what to do with your hands, when you grit your teeth and meet his miniature thrusts, they land on peter's arms and your nails dig in. your eyes slam closed, you see white light as if your picture was taken with the flash on.

'shit, shit, shit, shit!' you swear you're drawing blood from him but all you can think about is the heat exploding from your body. your hips buck they never have before, there's a sense of delight backing it up.

you've never had an orgasm like this in your entire life. it feels so different with another person, it felt like it was never ending. your legs feel like they locked up, you stop breathing for a solid second before you're gasping.

peter pulls back, your head is still spinning. your chest rapidly rises and falls, you feel marks over your face but you're so far away in your mind it's muddled.

'c'mon, come back to me.' you feel more awake, there's a wet kiss to your cheek, then another to your chin. 'c'mon, cherry. find your mind.' you do, your eyes open, you forgot you had them closed. it's like peeling them apart.

you feel wrecked.

'hi.' peter's got a cocky grin, he deserves it. you run your hand down your face, you feel fuzzy. 'hi.' you remember the harm you might've caused, you slightly shake when you reach for peter's arm, there's no marks.

'how are you feeling?' like you're leaking into his mattress, like every muscle is weighed down, like you couldn't stand up if you tried. the best you can come up with is, 'floaty.'

'that might stick around for a minute. want some water?' you hadn't thought of it before, but suddenly you feel parched. peter reads your mind, he's already holding out his water bottle.

'everything's better right after, no idea why.' peter guesses it's something with endorphins and brain chemicals, but he's never bothered to actually look into it.

after sitting up, you chug. even after the water you're still breathless. 'holy shit.' falling forward, peter catches you. you lay on him as a half hug, all he's doing is supporting your weight. you feel terribly heavy right now.

'thank you so much, oh my god. holy shit, a guy just made me come in my pants, what the fuck is my life?' a sprinkle of kisses from your ear to your cheek, 'don't build my ego too much or you'll have to deal with it.'

'i feel so heavy right now.' you drop to the pillow at peter's push, you don't have it in you to fight back. it's not necessary because peter falls right next to you and scoops you into his hold.

or, another way to put it, peter's cuddling you. peter's cuddling you while he's kissing your shoulder, it makes your head spin even more. 'what are you doing?' you're not fighting him on it, if anything you're leaning in further, he's just never cuddled you before. it feels nice.

'aftercaring you. doing my best to get you back down to earth from your floaty space.' you nod like you understand, there's still some things you need to get better at.

'hey, peter?'

'yeah?' he's much quieter.

'you don't owe me four dollars anymore.' a puff of hot air into your skin, at least he finds you funny. 'good. you were never gonna get it anyways.'

#the virgin files #frat!peterxvirgin!reader #peter parker smut

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melrodrigo · 2 months

Text

Tardy, part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right

A/N: lol

Shit.

When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.

"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.

It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.

You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.

Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.

Huh, I can't move my arms.

You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.

You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.

"Get it together." You remind yourself.

You blink once.

Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.

Where am I?

There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.

Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.

It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.

One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.

You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.

You can only seem to think of one thing.

"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.

Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?

“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.

“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.

It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.

You scoff.

"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.

"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.

You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.

What if...he was telling the truth?

A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.

"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.

"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.

Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.

"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.

"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.

You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.

"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.

The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.

"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.

You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.

She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.

It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.

A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.

She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.

You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.

Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.

"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.

You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.

You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.

"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.

When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.

You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.

She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.

She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.

"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.

Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.

The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.

It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.

The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.

"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.

You try your best to blink everything back to focus.

She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.

You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.

There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.

Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.

"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.

Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.

The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.

You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.

"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.

Everybody stills.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.

Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.

"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.

"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.

"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.

The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.

"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.

Anika.

Sweet sweet Anika.

"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.

You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.

"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.

"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.

He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.

"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.

I must be dreaming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.

"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.

"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.

"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.

Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.

"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.

Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.

"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."

Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.

Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.

"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.

"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.

"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.

"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.

She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.

"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.

Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.

Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.

"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?

Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.

That was Tara.

"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.

"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.

"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.

"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.

Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.

"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.

"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.

"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.

You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.

His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.

You just figured he really liked your company.

"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.

Last person on earth.

Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.

He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.

However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.

"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.

Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.

"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.

She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.

"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.

No one answers her as she stands up.

You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"

She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.

"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.

Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.

"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.

Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.

Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.

"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.

Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.

You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.

Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.

All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.

You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.

"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.

Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.

You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.

"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.

You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.

With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.

Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.

"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.

"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.

Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.

With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.

She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.

Your father's wooden box.

She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.

She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.

And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melrodrigo #jenna ortega #mine

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lbxbx · 3 months

Text

Cockpit 8 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety attacks

a/n: to say i struggled with this part is an understatement, i had the hardest time ever writing it and i can't say i'm convinced with it, but i promise it's a key to many events coming up, ps. i may or may not post next week because i'm renovating my bedroom wish me luck yall i love you and i'm sorry <3 pss. the valentine oneshot of cockpit will be posted on friday ^^

Previous | Next

Namjoon is getting ready for your so called date, nothing too casual, a pair of jeans and a button up t-shirt, he’s showering himself in his cologne that he knows you enjoy the scent of, before collecting his phone, keys and wallet to head outside his room.

He takes a quick scan around the house, it’s weirdly quiet, Jay usually eats his dinner by this time but he’s not. The lights are slightly dimmed and the only thing that’s lighting up the house is the sun setting outside, the house even smells… scented? He’s not sure, something is suspicious.

Of course he’s not going to ask where she is, as long as Jay is taken care of, he can leave. So he walks towards the shoe closet to grab out his pair of converse only to see his wife standing in the end of the aisle, she’s in a short silk robe that he’s not sure he’s seen before, her hand is leaned against the door frame and the other one on her hips. “Are you going somewhere?”

As if she’s forbidden for him to see, he quickly turns his face away and cringes on the inside a little, he used to think she was.. okay to look at? But not anymore, since you showed up, it’s only you he sees in his dreams. “Yes.” He solidly answers, of course not telling her where.

He slightly panics when she walks towards him slowly and runs her hand on his back, her touch totally half assed since she cannot and will not stand the man, but she’s trying to save her family from being doomed. “Are you going out with your friends?”

Namjoon’s brain functions for a quick second, and then realizes, she must know about the divorce, and that’s why she’s acting weird all of a sudden, he never saw her wearing anything like this, even her voice tone was never this quiet, she always spoke with a tone full of spite and utter hate.

He takes a step away from her hand, it felt weird and so out of place.

He puts on his shoes and starts unlocking the door, she walks closer to him and his fingers start working faster on the door. She tip toes and prints a kiss on his cheek that makes him nearly vomit, he pushes her with one hand and shakes his head. “No, it’s over.”

She feigns innocence and pouts, the crosses her arms on her chest. “Of course it’s not over Namjoon, I’ll be waiting for you tonight, please come back home.”

As if there’s no more oxygen in the room, Namjoon feels suffocated and his chest feels heavy, the door is finally unlocked and he leaves the apartment, slamming the door behind him, he rushes to his car and gets inside.

His chest rises dramatically with every breath he’s trying to take, his chest burns and he even feels his heart fluttering, his fingers feel numb and he feels sweaty, it’s been so long since he’s had a panic attack this strong.

He never saw a doctor about it but he knows it’s a panic attack.

He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt and leans his head back into his seat, his fingers are shaking when he clicks the air conditioning on.

He tries so hard to regulate his breaths or even sort out his thoughts so he could calm down.

His head immediately rushes to the first thought, that he cannot forget everything she made him or his son go through, he never felt loved and wanted by her, and he cannot deny that she turned his life into a nightmare. She made him give up on so many dreams and she rejected everything he offered her and always let him down, he can never forgive her and he knows that nothing will ever be the same.

He takes a long breath and he squeezes his hand into a fist repeatedly to try and get the blood flowing to his numb fingers before his head rushes to the second thought.

Namjoon has always been passionate about his life and goals, he was so thrilled to see what his future looked like, but not anymore, he’s nothing like the young Namjoon, she made him age way earlier than he should’ve, and he’s hurt deeply, and he knows that no matter what she does, she can’t repair the damage the already made.

His rapid breaths calm down as he finally puts out the last thought that makes his anxiety wash away in seconds. It’s when he thinks about you, and the world suddenly feels like a better place.

You simply were able to heal his inner wounds, when he’s around you he feels like the young and youthful Namjoon that he misses so much, he’s suddenly passionate about his life and job, he’s performing better on every aspect of his life ever since he met you. He finally feels like there’s a purpose of his existence, you made him feel desired and wanted.

His fingers move to turn off the air conditioning as he finally feels air in his lungs, his heartbeat calms down and he can feel his fingers again, he turns on his car and steps on the gas pedal, wanting to see you more than ever.

You’re a little surprised when he pulls you into a tight hug when you opened the door for him, his arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you closer against his body and even carrying you up a little, you hug back softly and rub his back, “Are you okay?”

He prints a few soft kisses on your shoulder before he puts you down and leans his forehead against yours. “I’m a whole lot better now.” A smile creeping on his face as he pecks your cheek.

You can’t help but mirror his smile, you press a soft kiss onto his jaw and inhale his cologne, “Come on in.”

He makes his way inside your place and puts his phone down. “You look absolutely stunning.” His eyes never left your figure as you bend to the mini fridge to grab him a bottle of water.

You took the effort to put on the lightest makeup ever, you wore a dark slim fit dress that you weren’t really sure of, it was an old dress hanging at the back of your closet that you were going to throw away once but then you decided to hoard it, so you finally put it on even when you don’t like the dress that much. “Thank you, do you think the dress is okay?”

He sits onto the couch and leans his arm on the back of it, shrugging one shoulder. “Of course.”

You scrunch your nose and turn your back to him. “I don’t like my ass in it.” Which makes him smirk and tilt his head, taking a few seconds to think. “If anything, I think it highlights your lovely ass, that’s all.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you would say that” You head towards your bedroom to grab your purse and phone, taking one last look at the mirror to check out the dress, you like it a little better now.

Your tour took place on the outskirts, a private minibus picked you two up from your place since there’s going to be drinking involved, so no one was allowed to drive there from the guests.

The entire way there Namjoon’s hands were never laid off of you, on your way there his hands stayed put on your inner thigh and your hand was on top of his, small strokes on your skin already drove you crazy and the night is still young, you could feel your body reacting upon his touches, and you’re not even complaining.

When you got to the farm, the tour guide showcased so many things that you never knew before that you found quite interesting, and still Namjoon’s hands were never off of you, if his hand wasn’t on your lower back or locked with yours, he’d be picking up grapes and feeding you them, and who are you to judge? You loved the attention, and he loved giving it to you too.

You got into the wine cellar and they showed you the aged wine from long ago and you finally got into wine tasting, a glass after a glass, you started getting tipsy and your cheeks are now flushing red as the alcohol is starting to affect your body, Namjoon could tolerate his drinks well so he wasn’t even near as tipsy as you were.

“Mm.” You take a sip of your wine glass and tilt your head, focusing on the taste of the wine. “I kind of like the taste of this one better, here, try.” You offer him to take a sip from your glass with it still being in your hands, you press it against his lips and lift it up a little so he could taste the wine, your eyes fixated on his plump lips on the rim of your glass, and you’re not sure if it’s the wine or not, but you would kill to feel his mouth on yours.

“Mmm.” He hums as the drink sits on his tongue, he nods. “It’s a little too sweet for my liking.”

“Oh yeah?” You whisper as your eyes are piercing towards his lips, your wild thoughts cramming inside your head as you lightly press your body against his, totally ignoring the fact that you’re surrounded by a bunch of people. He wraps his arms around your hips and smirks. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You innocently look up into his eyes, batting your eyelashes while you’re licking your bottom lip. “Stop looking at me like that.” His eyes now fall onto your lips, he secretly wishes they’re wrapped around his dick while you’re choking on him.

The two of you were enjoying your evening, it was a new experience for you and you’re glad you got to have it with Namjoon out of all people. He’s having the time of his life too, he’s been wanting to go on this tour for a few days but now he kind of wants it to end so he can take you home and be alone with you.

However the group you joined had approximately 14 people mostly couples. One of them never took his eyes off of you two, focusing a little on you and wondering if you’re Namjoon’s sister or not.

He’s related to Namjoon’s wife, and he has no idea that they were going through a divorce.

He’s even taking a few steps closer to try and catch your features, but you look nothing like Namjoon’s sister at all, he wanted to convince himself that you could probably be a coworker but you two are now hugging and clearly flirting with each other, so you can’t be.

He takes his phone out and subtly opens his camera, before he tries to snap a picture, his camera flash exposes him which makes him quickly cover it with his hand and put it down, everyone paid attention so they all look at him as the tour guide reminds everyone, that it’s not allowed to take pictures inside the cellar.

He earned a few looks from you and Namjoon, but you shrugged it off, and Namjoon doesn’t even recognize the man, he’s one of his wife’s second cousins so of course he won’t identify him.

You two were so lucky, because if anything, this could affect Namjoon’s divorce negatively..

“Can we go home?” You scratch the back of his head with your nails, he bites on his bottom lip and closes his eyes a little. “I’m not sure I can wait for us to get there.” He whispers.

The tour guide starts talking again, blabbering things that you honestly don’t care about anymore. Your panties are sticking onto your throbbing wet cunt, and your thighs are killing you from all the rubbing that you thought would calm your heat down.

You turn to face the guide, and Namjoon wraps his arms around your hips from behind, you can feel his erection rubbing against your ass which makes you smirk and side eye him, but that only makes him pull you tighter against his clothed cock.

You kick off your sneakers once you get inside your apartment, Namjoon walks behind you and locks the door after him. “Finally.” You rush to unzip your dress, at least now you’re positive that this dress can’t go back to your closet. It’s extremely tight and you were barely able to breathe.

Namjoon is watching attentively when you unhook your bra and slip it off while you’re still in dress, he’s a little surprised on how you were able to do that. You glance up at him, still standing near the door with his eyes not blinking and his jaw slightly down. “I’m sorry, but that dress was killing me.” You throw your bra at him as you’re making your way to your bedroom and he follows you, your bra still in his hand as he’s admiring the little piece of fabric.

You fall onto your bed face down and hug onto your blanket, your tour was a little exhausting and the way there was a little far, and you hate going on long trips. “I’m so glad we’re home.”

“Are you tired?” He asks, his voice softer than ever, as he makes his way to lay next to you on the bed, leaning on one elbow as his other hand runs through your hair. “A little, yeah.” Your voice is muffled through the bed sheets.

Of course he can’t force you to do anything, and you’re a little tipsy, so he gets up on his feet and claps his hands once. “Come on, let’s go wash you up and get you ready for bed.”

You cuddle into the blanket and close your eyes. “Just help me with the dress, I already showered this morning.”

And he obediently slides the dress off of your shoulders and pulls it off of you before he helps you get comfortable in bed. “Thank you.” Your voice so sleepy and your eyelids feel heavy, you’re already falling asleep.

“Good night, beautiful.” He kisses the top of your head which you’re totally not aware of, he lays beside you again and you cuddle closer to him, your breath coming out of your nose hovering over his now bare chest.

It’s finally the weekend, and the weather outside is on fire, it was practically impossible to sit without air conditioning, and you could easily get dehydrated. It’s also impossible to cover your skin anymore.

It was the last heat wave this summer in Seoul, and it was the perfect time to finally go on your swimming trip to Namjoon’s family beach house, you had planned to go Friday noon in one car, since the only flaw that this house had was the parking space, and the guys voted for your car, since it was the biggest out of all of them.

BMW SUV, and you love to brag about it in front of your friends, they all have luxurious cars but yours was the biggest and the most convenient for this kind of trips.

You wore a short yellow summer dress and put on a straw hat to shield your face from the sun, of course you wouldn’t be able to open your eyes without a pair of sunglasses, and you matched the whole outfit with a pair of sandals.

“Jimin brought someone with him.” Seokjin puts his phone back in his pocket. “We’re totally not going to fit in one car.”

“We’re not taking two cars.” Yoongi shrugs. “We need the parking space to play soccer later tonight.”

The guys were standing right in front of your apartment building, of course having their first debate of the day, that will soon lead into an argument, you’re positive.

“We can just cram on top of each other.” Namjoon suggest, the guys look at him totally intrigued by the idea, why did no one suggest that before?

Seokjin pauses for a second before using his cap to fan his face. “But it’s for 3 hours. No one is cramming on top of me, I’m already melting.”

“You can’t just say that, that’s unfair.” You frown at seokjin. “We’ll get in the car, whoever we pick up last is going to cram on top of someone. And I personally think since this is my car, I myself cannot cram on top of anyone.”

You earn a glare from Seokjin and Yoongi, the only one who seems to agree is Namjoon, who adjusts the strap of your dress that slipped on your shoulder. “I think so too, I think I should drive.”

You roll your eyes at him and nudge his chest. “That’s cheating too.” Namjoon pouts and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Just let me drive, so the rest of you can sleep or drink or whatever.”

“No way in hell, I’m driving.” Seokjin already has your car remote in his hand. “I’m passing on the drinks anyway, so I’ll drive.”

“Let’s just get going.” Mia snaps as she holds the battery operated fan near her face. “If we’re going to argue we might as well cancel the whole thing.”

“Shotgun!” You and Yoongi yell at the same time, only he’s a split second ahead of you. “No!” You whine in frustration. Yoongi grunts in celebration before he walks towards the car.

Seokjin sits in the driver seat, and Yoongi next to him in the passenger seat, leaving you, Namjoon and Mia in the back seat. You’re sitting in the middle and leaning forward on the middle console while shuffling your playlist to start music and turning on the air conditioning on the highest setting.

“Doesn’t shutgun usually get to choose the music?” Yoongi teases you. You scoff and pinch his arm. “How many times do I have to remind you that I own this car.” And he rolls his eyes, totally regretting the moment he voted to take your car for this trip.

“Come on let us in.” Jimin whines, you’re already crammed in the back seats when Jungkook joined, Yoongi ended up switching to the back seat so Mia can cram onto his lap, and there’s no way Jimin is going to fit in unless you sit in Namjoon’s lap.

You look over at Namjoon who has his arm around you, he nods immediately and grabs your hand to help you sit on his legs. “Can you at least push your seat forward?” You huff at Seokjin. “I can’t spread my legs if I do.” He whines, but he ends up pushing his seat forward.

Jimin finally gets into the car and Luna, the girl he brought with him sits onto his legs. “We still have to pick up Taehyung and Hobi. They can cram in the rear seats too.” Jungkook starts a song.

“You wanna go to the rear seats?” Namjoon whispers and brushes your hair behind your ear, you realize you’re really close to him when you turn to look at him, your noses nudge against each other. “I wouldn’t mind.” You shrug, his hand slowly creeps onto your inner thigh, rubbing circles on your skin with his warm fingers, moving up underneath your dress. You giggle and nod. “I want the rear seats now.”

“We’ll take the rear seats.” Namjoon speaks clear enough for the rest to hear, his eyes staring into yours. “You’re going to have sex in the back seat aren’t you?” Jungkook turned to look at you, you look back at the youngest and spit back sarcastically. “How did you know? This is my car and—“

“We’re never taking your car again.” Yoongi snaps at you. “I bet you two already had sex here and we’re just sitting on dried cum aren’t we?”

“Yeah how’d you know.” You tease Yoongi. “Hey, stop the car we’re switching to the back seat.” You nudge Seokjin’s shoulder, he stops the car, you and Namjoon climb into the back seats, way more spacious and a little darker than the seats before since you have your windows tinted.

Seokjin finally steps on the gas pedal and drives to pick up the rest of the guys, music loud enough and everyone singing along, but the two of you in the rear seats are totally unaware of what’s going on around you.

You’re on his lap straddling him, his head in your hands and your lips are locked into each other, his tongue roaming inside your mouth and even humming into the kiss, nothing too harsh, just a soft make out session that even when your body is already heated up, his lips heat you up even more, his hands sit on your thighs and run up to your ass squeezing it subtly making you giggle and pull back. “Easy there big boy.”

His nose nudges yours as he laughs too. “I honestly wouldn’t mind giving them something to watch.” And you hit his chest lightly with a pout forming on your lips, his eyes quickly shifting there and he visibly clears his throat. “But I would, there are girls watching.”

“So?” He steals a quick kiss and pulls your hips closer to his, you feel every inch of his boner that’s covered in shorts. “They will wish it was them getting fucked.” You trace your finger on his bottom lip before you lick it once.

“Then you can show them how lucky you are.” He holds eye contact which makes you clench around nothing, your body instantly pumping blood to your cunt and your breath hitches. “Oh fuck you.” You grit on your teeth, shaking your head left and right, your eyes moving down to his lips before you grab his face into one hand and pull him in a kiss, grazing your tongue against his and sucking on it, your other hand moving down his arm, squeezing gently on the muscle.

The car stops which makes you pull back from the kiss, their voices are loud again when Taehyung argues that he gets car sick from the rear seats, but he ends up getting scolded by Yoongi and takes the rear seats right next to Namjoon, and Jade gets up onto his lap.

“How did you let them put you in the rear seat?” Taehyung asks Namjoon as he shakes hands with him. “You’re supposed to help them get to your beach house, don’t you have to be shot gun?”

And Namjoon laughs before shaking his head. “I really don’t mind the rear seats, plus, it’s Y/N’s car and they put her in the rear seats too, so I won’t mind.”

Your eyes don’t get off of Namjoon as he gets into the topic of how his parents bought the house for their anniversary with Taehyung. And your mind just drifts off.

This man would’ve never forced himself to handle your annoying friends if he didn’t feel anything for you, but at the same time, he handled his wife for three years and gave up so much for her even when he didn’t love her.

You adjust your seat on his legs and turn to give him your back, finally facing the road, you lean your chin on the seat in front of you and take a deep breath. “Are we going to get Hobi?”

“Yeah.” Jimin answers you, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting the air conditioning towards him. “Did he tell you he’s bringing a plus one with him?” And you gasp. “He never mentioned that.”

And again, you’re glad you asked Namjoon to join you, well practically he’s taking you and your friends to his parents house.

Hoseok finally joins and the car can no longer fit an extra person, the air conditioning is on the highest setting and it’s barely enough, Seokjin could barely drive the uphill when there’s too many people and luggage crammed in the car.

It’s less than an hour drive outside Seoul when you finally get there and finally unload the car.

And you’re in shock when you see this beach house that looks like it came out of a movie, surrounded by palm trees and bushes, a large court yard just for sports and even equipped with everything, footballs, basketballs, even volleyball rackets.

You walk further inside and open the door leading inside the actual house, marbled floor and a giant lounge with a karaoke machine and a large TV screen that’s settled in front of a set of recline couches, and when you take a few extra steps inside you see the giant kitchen island and the kitchen is also equipped with everything. And you secretly wonder on the inside, how rich are they?

Namjoon knew his parents would do all his when he asked them earlier that week if he can borrow the keys and invite his friends over to the beach house, and of course they didn’t mind, and they were more than glad that he’s at least enjoying his time with his friends even when he’s going through a divorce.

Of course he never mentioned you or anything, it’s just him and his friends.

And his parents of course didn’t disappoint, they had everything prepared for Namjoon and his ‘friends’, the fridge is refilled with everything they might need, drinks, food, and snacks. The pool had pool rings and floaties already inflated and ready to be used, with towels and extra slippers right next to it.

“Namjoon, this place is incredible!” Mia shouts from outside, you jump in your place when Namjoon yells. “I call the master bedroom.” And as if he was the missing piece to your group of friends, they all monotonously start the loud arguments and fights on who gets to choose their room and who doesn’t.

He must feel really comfortable around your friends to be able to do that, you laugh on the inside.

You’re rubbing sunscreen on Jungkook’s shoulders and back while singing to the loud summer playlist they had blasting in the background, everyone settled in, some are tanning and the others are grabbing drinks, Namjoon earns a few looks from Hoseok’s plus one Hana when he reaches for the back of his tank top to yank it off, his tanned sculpted body giving everyone a pleasant show.

“I would kill to workout with your boyfriend.” Jungkook whispers to you, but Namjoon actually hears him and laughs, you deliver a subtle smack to the younger’s back and curse at him under your breath. “Shut up Kook.”

“Can I have her now please?” Namjoon walks closer and stands behind you, his hands sit on your hips and he kisses your covered shoulder softly. You chose to wear a one piece white bathing suit that highlighted your waistline with a white see through cover up on top.

“You’re good to go.” You close the bottle of sunscreen and return it back to Jungkook before he dives into the pool.

“You look incredible.” Namjoon whispers before he turns you to face him, you scrunch your face and scratch the back of your head. “Please ignore what he just said.”

He shrugs and stifles a grin. “I heard nothing.” And you roll your eyes. “So I’m your boyfriend now?”

You whine and hit chest before you pull back and take off your cover up, “I’m getting into the water, are you joining?” He nods and takes off his sunglasses. “You can go inside, I’ll join you in a second.”

He expects you to get into the pool slowly, but he’s a little shocked when he sees you actually running towards the water and diving in a cannonball near Seokjin to splash him on purpose. You’ve always enjoyed swimming, it was your favorite activity during the summer, so of course you weren’t going to waste the chance and dive in ordinarily.

The water is warm since the sun is directly hitting it, just the perfect temperature for you and you feel your body instantly cooling down, you float back to the top and run your fingers through your hair, “The water is incredible.”

Hoseok and Seokjin ended up getting into the water too and joining you and Jungkook, you were having the time of your life teasing them and spraying them in water, hell you even climbed on Jungkook’s back and started attacking the others with your water gun, your stomach starting to hurt you from all the laughing.

You turn your head towards Namjoon and you’re about to ask him, but he seems to be occupied having a chat with Hana, he’s moving his hands while speaking and it looks like a catchy topic, she’s standing way too close to him and her eyes are piercing all over his exposed upper body. “Joon?” You swim towards the edge of the pool and lean your arms there. “Yeah?” He immediately answers and walks towards you with a towel in his hand for you in case you wanted to get out.

“Aren’t you joining us?” You ask, “Oh yeah, in a second.” He smiles before tugging your hair behind your ear. “I just need to put sun block on.”

You tried to stifle a smirk, but it ends up showing clearly on your face when you tease him. “You can go ask your girlfriend for help.” You cock an eyebrow at him.

His eyes widen a little before he looks back at Hana, her eyes never got off of him, he looks back at you and tilts his head. “Are you jealous?” He teases you back and you roll your eyes before scoffing. “I am not.”

Of course you’re not, you know the man has a wife, and of course if there was any reason for you to be jealous it would be her, even though you two aren’t exclusive.

“I might as well ask her for help.” He tilts his head, and you shrug and look him into the eyes, you wouldn’t like the idea to begin with, so you’re hoping he’s actually joking.

“Mia? Can you please help me with the sun block?” Namjoon turns his head towards Mia, who’s standing right behind Hana with a couple drinks in her hand, and you’re a little relieved.

Namjoon wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or upset, he could’ve teased you and actually called the girl for help just to make you jealous, but he’s smart and mature enough to not to.

“Y/n, your boyfriend is asking me to feel him up.” Mia shouts, because girl code comes first.

And of course your face flushes red, it’s the second time today that Namjoon gets called your boyfriend, he laughs and hands her the bottle of sunscreen. The poor woman has to step onto one of the chairs to actually reach for his shoulders, Namjoon notices when your eyes drift off to Hana when she still has her eyes on him, even he gets a little uncomfortable from her stares.

“Chief, what’s up?” Hoseok sprays you with water and swims towards you, his eyesight follows yours and he notices how Hana is staring. “Hana, could you get me a towel please?” He snaps her out of her thoughts before she nods and grabs a towel to hand over to Hoseok, he’s not that far from you so you hear him asking Hana. “Are you okay?”

And she answers immediately. “Yeah, I’m just enjoying my time.”

“Will you stop staring at the man?” He’s clearly judging her for her looks, she was being too obvious. “We were talking, that’s all.”

Seconds after, Namjoon dives in head first and joins you in, you spend the entire afternoon swimming and playing volleyball, while the others were in the kitchen occupied with preparing for the barbeque.

“I told you we’d win.” Jungkook rubs it in your face after his team won, you roll your eyes and swim towards the corner of the pool a little tired after the game, Namjoon swims towards you and presses his body against yours under the water, lifting up your legs to wrap them around his waist. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulder pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek. “You?”

“Yeah, do you wanna go upstairs?” One of his hands hold onto yours and guides it towards his covered boner. “I kinda need help.”

You giggle and squeeze on his length subtly making him flinch, his other hand under your thighs hold tighter to your bare skin. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re not making any better.” He presses his mouth against your ear, his breath quickening. “I can’t walk out of the pool looking like this.”

You look around to spot your towels, before you get out of the pool and wrap a towel around your body, before giving Namjoon his and covering his lower part when he gets out too.

“Where to? We’re about to play another round.” Seokjin asks right you two turn your heads and about to get inside the house. “I need to shower, maybe we’ll take another dip after dinner.” Namjoon answers him and the older just nods, you two get to your room and once the door is locked, he takes off his towel and pins your arms above your head and pushes you against the door, every single part of his body in contact with yours, and his swimming shorts still wet and sticking to his throbbing erection.

He pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue roams inside your mouth as his hips grind against yours, one of your hands manages to slip out of his and move down to palm his cock through the damp shorts, and this time you squeeze a little harder than before.

He pulls back from the kiss and collects your hair into his hand, he presses his forehead against yours with his jaw down. “Y/N..”

You got down on your knees and wrap your fingers around the elastic band of his swimming shorts before pulling them down to his ankles and he kicks it off, his angry cock craving for attention as it slaps against his lower stomach.

Not hesitating for a second as you grab it into your hand and stroking the head to smear his pre cum, then finally wrap your lips the head, his entire body relaxes and his eyes roll to the back of his head, every time is like the first time for him when it’s with you. You bob your head back and forth while still maintaining eye contact with him, he gasps and tugs onto your hair, bucking his hips towards your mouth while throwing his head back. “Fuck, just like that baby, just like—Ah… shit.” Your eyes collect tears as his cock hits the back of your throat, a loud audible gag escaping your mouth, sloppy sinful sounds from your throat echo through the walls of the entire bedroom, he’s so close but he cannot cum now.

You cough with his cock still in your mouth and you pull back, your saliva mixed with pre cum leaking on your face messily, you stroke his cock and look up into his eyes. “You wanna cum down my throat?”

His grip tightens around your hair and he pulls you up, stealing a quick kiss from your lips before leaning his forehead against yours. “Not before you let me stretch that beautiful little cunt of yours.”

Your stomach dropping at the pure excitement mixes with the knot that can snap in any second if he touches you, it’s been so long that you two had proper sex and you got really impatient.

Namjoon pushes you down on the bed and helps you kick off your bathing suit, you struggle a little because it’s still damp and a little tight on your body, but you two manage. He sits down on the floor near the edge of the bed before wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer to him. “Would you look at that.” He smirks, blowing a little air on your throbbing bean, then using his index and middle finger to spread open your pussy.

And he prints the softest kiss onto your clit, his eyes locked with yours, before he whispers. “Just tell me what you want baby and I’ll do it.” You use your elbows for support before run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to your already wet and numb pussy, his hungry mouth devours your cunt, licking your entrance up to your clit, before sucking on it for his dear life and moving his head to add friction.

Your back arches and your hands tug onto your own hair, every single cell in your body is drugged with pleasure and ecstasy, your stomach tightens and your eyelids feel heavy. “Fuck.” You manage to let out breathlessly.

He slowly inserts two fingers, barely moving inside you as your walls hug onto his fingers repeatedly, your jaw drops and your breath hitches, as hard as you tried to keep your legs open, you end up closing your thighs around his head and pulling him even closer against your bare sex. “Namjoon, please, please..”

He grabs onto your thighs and turns you so you’re sitting on his face, and the angle change is a whole new different experience, your eyes finally shut close and your chest heaves up and down dramatically, “Please don’t stop.” You look him in the eye lazily, your hand holding his hair tightly before you grind your hips on his face while he’s still moving his fingers inside your clenching pussy.

“I’m gonna cum.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out this loud, your free hand moves to your mouth to cover it, and that’s his cue to curl his fingers against your spot and slide in another finger, your cumming is finally undone and you resist the urge to scream his name off of the top of your lungs, and he still doesn’t stop.

Still moving his fingers inside you and sucking onto your clit while you’re creaming onto his face. “Holy shit.” You drop on the bed face down and bury your head in the sheets, you feel lightheaded and you realize that you’ve been holding your breath the entire time.

Namjoon is seconds away from busting a nut, his face is glistening with your cum and he wipes it with the back of his hand before smearing it onto the bed sheets, he kisses your inner thighs softly, moving up to the curve of your ass, kissing and grazing there with his teeth lightly, before hovering on top of you and kissing your back. “Are you okay?”

You nod, a lazy smile curves your lips slowly, before you reach your arm behind you and scratch the back of his head with your nails. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

He kisses your bare shoulder once, twice, thrice, before you turn to face him, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him on the lips softly, “Do you have a condom?”

“No, you?” He pulls back, you blink twice before tilting your head. “Why would I carry a condom?”

“I don’t know, you had condoms in your place.” He shrugs. “Should we ask one of the guys for a condom?”

“Of course not.” You exclaim, “Look, I’ll just suck you off or something, but we’re not asking no one for a condom.”

“We can go without one.”

You had multiple sexual experiences throughout your life and you were safe with all of them, even when they wore condoms you were still on birth control, and even when you hooked up with Namjoon, you never skipped a pill. Better safe than sorry, kids are not an option for now.

“I don’t know, should we?” You ask unsurely, biting your nails anxiously, he grins and grabs your hand away from your mouth to deliver another soft kiss to your lips. “I think we should.”

You already feel his card cock pressed against your thigh when you kiss him back, your finger nails run through his back before he pulls away from the kiss. “What do you say?”

It takes you a second to think one last time before you answer him. “Alright I guess.”

He moves down your naked tits and licks your nipple once before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth as you’re pushing his dark hair out of his face, his teeth biting softly on your nipple before he moves to your other breast, printing a dark purple mark right near your nipple, and you can feel your lower body heat up when he breathes against your erect nipple. “Mmm.”

He lifts himself up before grabbing the back of your thighs to push them up towards your torso, pressing soft kisses on the back of your thighs and your calves, moving up to the back of your foot slowly, his eyes piercing through yours, filled with fire and lust.

His bare cock is pressed against your bare cunt as he grinds slowly against your folds, your slickness making him glide against your clit with minimum effort, before he positions the head to your entrance and spitting directly onto it before pushing it in slowly.

And holy shit, you hold your breath at the extreme stretch, every single curve of his cock is felt inside you with no barrier and it feels fucking insane, you’re clenching repeatedly against him which makes him struggle to push further inside, he grits on his own teeth and throws his head back. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” He even pulls out and you breathe again. “Relax for me baby.”

He leans forward to brush his nose against yours and kiss you on the lips softly, and you kiss back while cupping his cheeks, your arms moving to his shoulder and scratching him softly with your nails. “Should I try again?” He whispers against your lips and you nod, he’s already pressing the head against your entrance, this time using his thumb to rub your clit, trying to make you relax while he’s slowly pushing inside you. Pleasure is too overwhelming and you feel yourself seconds away from cumming.

He’s finally balls deep inside you, he leans his palms on the bed behind you and bends in to kiss you again, his tongue roaming inside your mouth and his teeth biting onto your bottom lip, tugging it back gently before moving down to your ear, licking the outside of it before pressing a kiss behind it.

You’ve grown to love the way he pays attention to your ears and neck, he knows you like it when you’re clenching around him with every kiss he prints onto your skin which makes his lips curve into a satisfied smirk.

He pulls out from you slowly, the head still inside your throbbing cunt before he thrusts back inside you, the tightness around his cock makes him lose his mind, he’s less than inch away to pound you senseless but he can’t.

You gasp when you feel the head digging deep inside you, your eyes drift down to your own stomach and you’re sure if you squint your eyes a little you may see it bulging. He pulls back again and slams a little faster than before, to which you press your hand on his lower stomach, you throw your head back and breathe fast. “Namjoon.” He holds onto your legs to prop himself up, pulling out and pushing back inside you.

You look down to see his cock disappearing slowly back into you and you look him up in the eyes, your jaw falling down slowly when he picks up his speed, fucking your brain and breath out of you, your head falls back and your own hands pull onto your own hair. Your body tenses and your toes curl, your entire spine heats up and you feel yourself about to cum.

“I know baby, I know.” He presses your thighs further into your torso and pulls his angry cock out of you before going down to lick your entrance once and kiss your clit, you hold onto the sheets behind you and remember to breathe again, he doesn’t give you much time to catch enough oxygen as he props himself back up and re enters you with full force, finally pounding into your pussy senseless, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you breathe out. “I’m cumming.”

He doesn’t stop, drops of sweat mixed with water fall onto his face and body that were already glistening with sweat, his upper body is tensed as he’s gripping onto your legs, his fingers digging into your skin, and his stomach tightened ready to relax any second when he shoots out his load. He starts doubting himself if he can pull out at the right time or not.

As for you, your knuckles turned white long time ago, your body finally snaps and you finally cum all over his cock, clenching repeatedly around his cock making it hard to fuck you through your orgasm as he pulls back fast, his angry cock shooting his load on your clit and lower body as he throws his head back. “Mmm.. Fuck-“ You two pant for a breath, your eyes close and your grip around the sheets finally loosening as you feel your ears buzzing, you feel yourself split seconds away from going unconscious.

He falls on top of you, his lips near your ear but you can’t hear anything as the buzzing doesn’t stop, he caresses your cheeks and kisses it softly. “Y/N?”

You barely get to open your eyes and look at him, letting out a forced lazy laugh, he brushes your hair off of your face and whispers. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head and slur when speak trying to form a sentence. “I’m a little sore that’s all.”

A little? You were a mess, your cunt is swollen and red, your thighs have his finger prints all over it, your breasts had several purple spots on them and even his teeth marked onto your own neck.

He gets up onto his feet to grab a few paper towels. “Let me clean you up.” He cleans his own cum off of your body ever so gently, not forgetting to press a bunch of soft kisses onto your stomach and hips.

Finally it was time for dinner, Taehyung and Jimin finally set up the table and the food is looking good and ready to be devoured, you haven’t eaten anything the entire day and you’re starting to get grumpy when your stomach growls continuously.

Everyone is seated around the table in the back yard, the sound of the beach waves is like the perfect music to accommodate your dinner, the weather was fantastic, the slightly warm summer breeze blows through your hair ( and thankfully through your dress, you were overheated the entire day.). And since the house is a little far from the city and there are barely any city lights to be seen, you can see the stars in the sky quite clearly.

Namjoon was seated next to Jungkook and you were seated on the end of the table next to Hoseok. “So how’s it going so far?” He leans his back on his chair and whispers, everyone around the table too occupied eating and chatting. You swallow your bite and answer unsurely. “I guess we’re really good friends, that’s all.”

Of course you can’t address him as more than a friend for now.

“What do you mean?” Hoseok’s eyes widen as he swallows, leaning a little closer to whisper again. “Did he friend zone you?” And of course you roll your eyes. “No, and neither did I, but I just feel like something is holding me back you know?”

“You do know he’s getting a divorce right?” He hesitates a little. “I was handed over his case.”

“Yeah, I know, why didn’t you tell me?” You weren’t going to ask, but you just feel the need to know why he hid it in the first place.

“I thought you would feel guilty or something, or maybe you’d think you’re the reason he got the divorce. I just held back to see how you were doing with him. I also didn’t want to tell you this but uhm.. I overheard Jungkook earlier today speaking with him, and to be real chief, I think he actually has something for you. I’m hoping you do not reciprocate anything until he gets his divorce, because things will get too complicated for you two, so please slow down.”

You take a sip of your wine and let his words sink in for a second. “Don’t worry Hobi, as I said, for now we’re just friends hooking up and getting to know each other well. I will take my time to think, and maybe by then he would’ve probably be done with his divorce.”

He nods before taking a sip from his beer, you could feel his eyes back on you as he asks softly. “Are you happy?”

You know you can be totally honest with Hoseok, talking to him is like talking to your own reflection in the mirror, you know he can never make you feel bad about yourself.

So you finally blurt out the thought that you never even discussed to your own self. “Nothing feels different until now, but sometimes I miss the fact that I was alone alone, you know?”

“Do you not enjoy his company?”

You immediately shake your head. “No, it’s the exact opposite actually, I do, really. He’s sweet and caring, and he’s emotionally mature if that makes sense.”

And Hoseok nods. “It does.”

“Not to be mean or selfish, but I think his marriage experience befits me somehow, don’t you think?” You seek for his opinion and he shrugs. “You know what you want better than I do, and it’s not selfish at all, after all this experience made him what he is now, and he’s a good man I have to say.”

You agree. “He is, really. He’s really smart and fun to be around. Wanting to be alone is a me problem I guess.”

Hoseok’s arm wraps around your shoulder to pull you closer and kiss you on the cheek. “You know I always got you, and if he ever does you wrong, trust me, I will fuck up this man’s life and you have my word.”

You hit his chest and smile. “I know, you don’t have to remind me.”

“Can we set the bonfire near the beach after dinner?” Jimin asks Namjoon and the man nods. “Absolutely, you guys do everything you want.” Before he gets back to his interesting topic with Jungkook and Seokjin.

“He’s doing great isn’t he?” You whisper to Hoseok and he nods before laughing. “Comparing to your past partners, yeah, he’s doing good.”

You roll your eyes and look at him. “You can never compare those to him.”

“Jungkook, you’re cheating.” Of course it’s you bickering with him, you were drawing something on a paper and they had to guess it, Jungkook even when he’s on your team, he was giving away the answer to the other team.

You hate to say you’re very competitive but you truly are, and you easily got mad at him even when it’s just a game.

“They would’ve never guessed.” He exclaims while laughing, thinking that this is some type of a joke, but you were dead serious. “That’s the point of the game you idiot.”

“Y/n, calm down, he tried to give away the answer but I couldn’t understand.” Seokjin whines. “Jungkook shut up will you?”

“Yeah Jungkook, shut up will you?” You cross your arms, he walks towards you and wraps his arms around your body to carry you up and walks towards the pool, threatening to throw you in. “Yah, I think you forgot who’s the older one here.”

“Jungkook put me down.” You finally crack and laugh when your toes touch the water, holding onto Jungkook tightly so that if he pushed you in, he’d go down with you.

Of course Namjoon is watching carefully, deep inside a little worried over you even when you and your friend are just messing around, he gets up to grab himself a bottle of water before whining. “Jungkook put her down.”

“Beg.” Jungkook looks at you in the eyes and you laugh. “Fuck you, I’m not begging.”

And he without any hesitation throws you into the water, Namjoon who’s standing near Jungkook pushes him into the water while laughing, and everyone laughs at Namjoon’s genuine reaction and they make fun of Jungkook.

You two swim to the surface and you brush your hair off of your face, totally unaware that Jungkook was pushed by Namjoon, you swim towards Jungkook and climb on his back, jokingly drowning his head into the water and fighting him.

It was a very warm night, everyone enjoyed their time, no exceptions.

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timemachineyeah · 2 years

Text

I think it’s interesting that we learn Philip and Caleb became witch hunters to fit in to the existing culture of Gravesfield.

Because the thing about witch hunts is, there’s a lot of zealotry and tattling involved. If they weren’t a pair of traveling radicals, but rather two side characters in an ongoing town furor? That changes things.

Up until now I’ve been a little curious about the dynamic of having Philip be the younger brother. We are more used to stories where the older person has authority over the younger in a way that allows them to be despotic. Basically when you have two siblings in fiction and one is evil, it’s usually the older one. But Caleb seemed pretty chill? People with chill authority figures usually don’t grow up to do genocide? But Philip is really committed to genocide? And jealousy over your older brother getting a girlfriend is a weird thing to genocide over?

But now we learn, that’s not really the story. Or not the whole story.

This is a JoJo Rabbit situation. This is a Hitler Youth situation.

In a town that’s in a fervor to find the hidden secret evil citizens among them, kids are potentially dangerous. The children you love and care for are also the most likely to be unsavvy and get you killed. Sometimes older relatives under those circumstances have to, or at least feel like they have to, let their younger family members be indoctrinated without openly opposing it, even pretending to support it, because, well. Children talk. Often without filter. Maybe it would be okay, but

Is it worth risking one or both of you being hung in the square to test that theory?

So they get to this town. This town will hang or burn you if you aren’t pious enough. And this town defines piety by its hatred of The Devil. We are all trying to prove we hate the devil the most. And Caleb, older brother, is like, okay then. That’s what’ll keep us fed. That’s what’ll keep us safe. He’s not a zealot so much as he’s just trying to keep him and his kid brother alive and win the town’s favor. Maybe the zealotry even freaks him out a bit, but not enough. Not until he meets Evelyn.

But Philip? Philip believes. Of course he does. His brother has never made any indication to him that there’s room for doubt. No one has ever done that. At least no one whose execution he didn’t later watch with his entire community cheering it on. Because they were dangerous. Everyone knows how this neighbor got sick, how witches caused that terrible accident, how Satan tries to keep us from our eternal salvation. This is literal. This is real. This is eternal souls and cosmic reality. He’s a kid, at first. He gets indoctrinated young. He believes this.

And then they find the actual realm of demons. Actual hell. The source of all evil in the universe. Fucking obviously it is his divine calling to destroy it once and for all. Wouldn’t you? If you could end all suffering? Save everyone for eternity? Surely that is noble. Righteous. Sacred.

And how is he supposed to believe anything else? What is easier to believe: the whole world is a lie and he has been watching innocent people killed for entertainment since he was a child - which goes against everything he was ever taught and also feels fucking bad. Or: the witches used their evil magic to convince my brother they aren’t evil, which proves how evil they are. That lines up perfectly with everything I know, everything everyone around me has always said, and makes it okay that I participated in those public executions, and also gives me some good righteous anger to fuel me on a genocidal rampage for as long as I continue to exist.

In Philip’s head, he’s the center of his dramatic fantasy epic. He’s the lone hero up against the big bad. He’s going to take on the Devil himself.

Idk, I just think it’s cool that The Owl House was like, “hey, Satanic panics, fascism, and genocide are allied ideologies, perhaps even the same ideology, and it’s Bad”

Also, “societal pressure to conform enables and even encourages people to hurt those they love”. Camila tried to send Luz to camp because she didn’t want Luz to be bullied the way she had been, because Luz’s principal told her she had to. It was a gesture born out of a desire to protect her, but one that would ultimately hurt. Caleb let Philip grow up more pious than he was because it seemed safest, to protect him. Philip grew up believing in eternal damnation and righteous cruelty, something that has clearly ultimately hurt him I mean look at what he is now. Philip, meanwhile, hurt Caleb and continues to hurt his family because he thinks there’s a Right and Wrong way to exist. To be. The ultimate call for conformity. For hegemony. But he didn’t spontaneously generate this belief. It was reinforced from a young age from a society that wanted to make sure no one was deviating too much. To centralize and maintain power through manipulation, exploitation, and force.

Anyway I cannot fucking wait for Camila and Eda to meet oh my fucking god

#timemachine wuz here #the owl house spoilers #the owl house #toh spoilers #toh #philip wittebane

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grey342 · 5 months

Note

you're amazing 👏🏻 👏🏻👏🏻

could you write something about Phil asking reader to marry him? saw the first hangover movie recently and this man screams husband material 🥵

Marry me?

Phil Wenneck x reader

synopsis - Phil's and his girlfriend go out for their anniversary and she notices he's acting different.

warnings - Phil being nervous (he's adorable) and reader being oblivious.

authors note - Thank you! You guys are too nice to me, making me blush and kick my feet frrr🤭. I love this request so much and I TOTALLY agree. Again so sorry for this coming out so late 😀 I promise I’m working on it for you guys! Lmk what you think and send in any more requests you have!

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

Holy shit.

Tonight is your four year anniversary and he's acting so weird.

You noticed first when you were both getting ready to go. Fidgeting with his hands, wiping the sweat from his brow and constantly tapping his pocket.

You tried to ignore it but it was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. You struggled to understand why he would be behaving like this, the night was going perfectly.

You were at your favourite restaurant, outside by the beach. You were even alone which was strange considering this place is usually packed with people. The table was covered with rose petals and candles. The sun was setting beautifully, it was the perfect night.

"Isn't it pretty?" You ask looking at him.

"Hm? What?" He stumbles on his words. You smile softly and take his hand in yours, an attempt to comfort him.

"The view," you say looking out, "isn't it pretty?"

"Yes..Yes it is." He replies looking at you. You look at him, blushing when you realise. You notice his smile drop slightly and it's replaced with the same expression he's been wearing all night. You rub your thumb over the back of his hand, gaining his attention.

"Sweetie?" You call.

"Hm?" He mumbles.

"Is everything okay?" His eyes look directly into yours, widened with panic.

"Wha-What do you mean? Everything's fine, why wouldn't it be fine?" He responds too quickly for your liking.

"Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything." You smile at him.

“I know” he places his other hand on top of yours, “ everything is fine I promise.” He forces a smile. You’re still not convinced but you let it go not wanting to cause an argument on your anniversary. You look back out, when he takes a deep breath and calls to you.

“Baby..”

“Yea - holy shit" You whisper, stunned by the sight before you. Phil down on one knee with a velvet box in his hand.

"Alright, you know i'm not good with the sappy crap," you chuckle quietly, "but 'm gonna try my best. When I first met you I thought you were the most annoying bitch I had ever met. I mean in my entire life and i've met some bitchy women let me tell yo-"

"Phil,"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe..don't talk about other women when your proposing to me."

"Oh, yeah. Whatever, the point was you were a cunt," you let out a loud laugh, this calms him instantly, "but the more I got to know you, the more I realised how beautiful you are. Inside and out. You made me feel things I had never felt before, you trusted me enough to show your vulnerable side and that made me want to do that with you. I know we've had our tough patches but, you pulled us through it. Never giving up on us. Never giving up on me." Tears are blurring your vision.

"Anyway let's cut the bullshit and get to the important bit.," you kick him lightly, he giggles, "My love, my life, will you marry me?" The tears are rolling down your cheeks now, you can even see tears brimming his eyes.

"Yes, yes..Yes! Of course i'll marry you!" He stands up pulling you with him and embraces you. He grabs your hand and places the ring on your finger. You admire it for a couple seconds before he grabs your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes with so much love you felt yourself getting choked up again.

"I love you so much." He whispers.

"I know.." You reply, he chuckles in response and closes the gap between your lips once more. Your heart beaming, excited for what the future will bring you.

#bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #the hangover #x reader #asks #anon asks #send asks #fluff #cute

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mishasminion360 · 3 months

Text

How Do You Do It?

Jack Daniels x fem!reader

Warnings: Mild language; words said in anger; stress-induced anxiety; mild angst; self-doubt; but lots of fluff, I swear.

Summary: Being a new mother and a homemaker are two difficult jobs to juggle at the same time, and even more of a challenge when your husband is constantly away. When Jack returns from his latest assignment to find you overtaxed and irritable, he decides to make it up to you by spending a day in your shoes.

A/N: What a busy summer/early fall. So much has changed in such a short time. Change is weird sometimes and brings a lot of stress. Had my first-ever panic attack. Zero stars; do not recommend. But even the stressful, scary parts of our lives can be inspiring. This fic is proof of that 😝

P.S. As you can see I began this fic in the fall of 2023 and look how late I’m posting it! I’m sorry for the long hiatus, folks, but believe me when I say it was necessary.

How is it that your husband is the secret agent, but the weight of the world always feels like it’s been thrust upon your shoulders?

The day you found out you were expecting was one of the happiest of your life. You and Jack had been over the moon and spent the entire adventure of pregnancy fantasizing about all the joys of parenthood that would arrive along with your bundle of joy. You weren’t kidding yourselves; you knew that a baby brought big changes and more than a few challenges. You just weren’t aware of just how high those hurdles would be until you were thrown into the race.

The roles of wife, homemaker, and now mother all seem to merge into one monstrous, never-ending task; and your duties seemed all the more daunting when you were left to fulfill them alone.

Jack is nothing short of attentive and dedicated when he’s at home. The problem is that “home” is usually the last place one will find him. As of late, his job with the Statesmen pulls and pushes him this way and that into parts unknown where he’s embroiled in espionage for some indeterminate period, leaving you with a house to maintain, meals to prepare, clothes to launder, and a colicky infant to soothe.

You’re trapped inside a pressure cooker and the temperature is nearing critical.

***

“Baby Shark” is on its 25th iteration, every “doo doo doo” is like a bat to the back of your head. You dance topless in the living room with your wailing son clutched to your naked chest. You’d tossed your t-shirt into the wash twenty minutes ago, covered—like the two before it—in your baby boy’s milky vomit.

Your sanity is a mere thread, frayed, delicate, and seconds away from completely unraveling. Your head is pounding and back aching, and you’re trying to convince yourself that the flush of heat you feel just beneath your skin is not a fever. You can’t afford to be sick now. Not when you are all your son has; when you are all you have.

“Daddy’s home, darlin’!”

The sound of his voice, the familiar clip-clop of his boots on the hardwood floor, should fill you with after hardly having heard it for a solid week. Instead, it has your already tepid body simmering with frustration.

“Hey there, Mama Mare.” The affectionate term oozes from between his grinning lips with all the smooth, sweet ease of honey. “Give this ol’ cowboy some sugar. He missed you.”

His lips are on yours and then detaching themselves before your mouth can even register it’d just been in contact with another; far quicker and more careless than the long overdue reunion kiss you’d been anticipating. The brief little smooch held about as much passion as a handshake.

“There’s my little cowpoke!”

Jack lifts his squalling son from your arms and little John’s cries instantly cease. Of course they do. Of freaking course.

“Well, now, you didn’t have to get all dressed up on my account, honeybee.”

You snap to attention after possibly having fallen asleep on your feet for a split second to see that Jack’s devilish gaze has zeroed in on your bared tits.

“You certainly know how to welcome a fella home.”

While he’s busy ogling your non-seductive nudity, your own eyes have locked onto the trail of muddy prints stretching from the front door, each filthy footfall a perfect imprint of the sole of Jack’s boots. Yet another mess you’ll have to clean up; another chore added to the already heavy burden you’re shouldering.

“How’s about after dinner we mosey on upstairs, put this little buckaroo to bed, then I show you just how much I missed you?”

You don’t even know how to respond to him right now, so you don’t. You simply turn your back and walk away, seething in a silent rage as you stomp your way upstairs to put on the thickest, ugliest sweatshirt you can find that leaves everything up to the imagination.

John starts to wail once again, but that’s Jack’s problem now. You have about a million other tasks to accomplish—make that a million and one, thanks to his filthy freaking boots.

You slip into the master bath and toss back a couple of Advil for your pounding headache and by the time you re-emerge, Jack is pacing around your bed, hands on his hips and a pensive scowl on his face.

You take a deep breath through your nose and the words tumble from your lips in a sigh. “I haven’t started dinner yet. Give me just a few minutes and I can—“

“Did I say somethin’ wrong?” he blurts. “‘Cause you gave me a look back there that reminded me of an angry steer about to trample a rodeo clown.”

“Just forget it,” you mutter, brushing past him toward the door. His hand wraps around your wrist before you can cross the threshold.

“I ain’t forgettin’ nothin’,” he drawls as he turns you to face him. “Sugar, what’s wrong? No use lyin’ because I can tell somethin’s stuck in your craw.”

Oh, it’s stuck alright. Like a bug in a windshield.

“Jesus, Jack,” you sigh. “Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had a total of five non-consecutive hours of sleep this week. Or it could be the fact that the house is a mess or that I’m down to my last pair of clean underwear. All the chores have been put on hold so I could tend to our son while you’ve been off playing ‘secret agent man’ in God only knows where.”

His mustache twitches and his jaw ticks.

“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me you’ve been strugglin’? I would have—“

“Because I shouldn’t have to tell you!” you snap. “You should know me well enough by now to tell when I’m not okay! You should already have some inkling of how hard it is to raise a child and that the process usually goes much smoother when both parents are involved. But I guess I’m just a fool for assuming. Getting shot at is far less hazardous to your health than changing a dirty diaper after all.”

When the red finally clears from your vision you see that Jack’s has become clouded with a look you’d only bore witness to once and concluded that you never wanted to see again. His mirthful brown eyes dulled by a deeply rooted pain planted long ago by a cruel twist of fate. He’d been robbed of his first chance to be a husband and father and you’d just accused him of squandering his second.

“Sugar, I’m….I’m sorry.”

Shit. It’s not fair. You have been miserable for an entire week and you can’t stand to see him miserable for even a millisecond.

“No, I’m sorry,” you insist, voice and legs quivering. You lower yourself to the bed before exhaustion and gravity get the better of you. “I’m just so tired. Tired and frustrated.”

He drops to the bed beside you and pulls you into one of his signature hugs you’ve missed so much. The tightest of embraces that only he can give.

“I know you’re working hard to provide for our family,” you sob. “I know that but still I….I feel so alone, Jack.”

Before even a single southern-drenched syllable can leave his mouth, a sharp wail blasts from the baby monitor and your body reacts instinctively and urgently. You shoot up and out of Jack’s arms like a rocket.

“Let me check on him and then I’ll start dinner,” you say with a sniffle.

“I’ll get him, darlin’,” Jack insists, gently grasping you by the wrist and halting your minimal progress toward the door.

“But he probably needs—“

“I will get him.”

His hands are on your shoulders now—firm yet gentle—and grounding, comforting.

“Please, let me take care of my boy so you can take care of you, honeybee. And then, later, I’d like to take care of you, too. If you’ll let me.”

You can only muster a nod before he’s striding out of the room. Taking advantage of the first minute you’ve had to yourself in a week, you slip into the shower and let the warm spray unclench every muscle coiled tight with stress.

By the time you emerge, John is sleeping peacefully and a pizza’s been ordered. Jack dotes on you the entire evening, giving your aching feet a rub down with his skillful hands and cuddling you close as you both zone out to some ridiculous reality TV. His mere presence is a balm to your weary soul.

Whenever the baby cries in the middle of the night and your body moves on instinct Jack stills you, urges you back to the mattress, and takes on the challenge himself. It’s the best night’s sleep you’ve had in you can’t remember how long.

***

And surprisingly enough, you don’t manage to sleep any later than 9 a.m. The smell of extra greasy bacon lures you from bed, a siren’s call to your stomach.

John bounces in his high chair, babbling around a mouthful of mashed banana, most of which appears to have ended up on his face, shirt, and chubby little fists. Jack is an even more astonishing sight than your messy son, strutting about the kitchen in your frilly apron topping his off-white Henley and faded Wranglers.

“Well, good mornin’, sugar,” he cries, grabbing your hips to tug you in for a kiss. “Though I wasn’t expectin’ to see you up so soon.”

“How did you expect me to stay asleep when something smells incredible?”

“That would be my famous chocolate chip, peanut butter, and banana flapjacks.”

In true Southern gentlemanly fashion, he pulls out a chair and eases you into it before setting a towering stack of syrup-soaked pancakes before you, coffee and bacon following suit.

“Better eat quick now, darlin’,” Jack urges as he takes a seat with his plate. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”

As if you could forget. That laundry is begging for attention, the house hasn’t had a good dusting in you can’t recall how long, and Johnny already needs a bath—

“I made you an appointment for noon.”

Your train of thought instantly stalls on the tracks.

“Appointment?”

Jack grins over the brim of his steaming mug.

“Honey, you need a break. Figured you might enjoy yourself a little spa day.”

You can hardly believe your ears.

“Spa day?”

“Yes, ma’am. Massage, mud baths, whatever the heck they do with seaweed, the whole nine yards,” he explains proudly. “I even called up your buddy from work and asked if she’d like to join you. And it’s all on me.”

“But Jack, what about John? And the house, the laundry, the cooking?”

“Gimme some credit, sugar,” he chuckles. “I think I can keep the homestead standin’ and our baby boy breathin’ for a day. Besides, it’s high time I start puttin’ in my fair share of help around here, isn’t it?”

You’re not sure if you want to thank him or burst into tears. Maybe both.

“You do so much, honeybee,” he says warmly, voice as smooth, rich, and sweet as the syrup sluiced atop your pancakes. “You move mountains every day to make this house a home. How’s about lettin’ someone do somethin’ for you for a change?”

You scarf down the rest of your pancakes before kissing him with sticky lips and racing up the stairs to get ready for your big day out.

***

You feel rejuvenated and refreshed. Brand fucking new. A far cry from the husk of a woman who’d left the house this morning. Wrapped in seaweed and slathered with mud you’d been returned to the earth and reborn at full strength, like a phoenix risen from the ash.

You'd been reunited with an inner strength and power you'd all but forgotten. And thank God for that, because you're going to need every bit of it to face the chaos you come walking back into upon your return home.

You can hear John’s piercing wails before you’ve cut the engine and opened the driver’s side door. You can smell the smoke before you've even reached the front steps.

Inside all hell has broken loose. Gray tendrils of smoke slither through the air, teasing the detector into screaming its warning. Your baby boy is giving it some stiff competition with his own cries as Jack struggles to bounce him on one arm while he tries to fan away the smoke with the other. Both gestures prove futile.

“It’s okay, buckeroo. You’re okay. Don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry.”

Jack looks so frazzled. The situation is far from funny so the last thing you should do is laugh at his expense. But dammit if you don’t anyway.

“Do you need some help there, cowboy?”

His frantic eyes find you through the haze and pierce you with a desperate, wordless plea. You take the inconsolable infant from your husband’s arm and soothe him into silence as Jack does the same to the smoke alarm.

“There now, Johnny. See? Everything’s okay. Daddy made the bad sound stop.”

“He just stopped cryin’ for you. Just like that.”

Something in his eyes burns. Something in his voice cracks.

“I couldn't bring him any kind of comfort. He didn't….want nothin’ to do with me.”

Your weary cowpoke sags into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and buries his face in his hands with an exasperated sigh.

“You were right, darlin’. I'm useless.”

You settle John into his high chair with a teething ring to distract him before turning your attention to your distressed husband.

“To be fair, I never said you were useless.”

“You may as well have,” he sighs. “And if you weren’t thinkin’ it before you’ll be thinkin’ it now.”

You smirk. “Rough day?”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t even know the half of it.”

He begins to recount the day’s challenges, his voice raising in pitch as goes from describing one hurdle to the next. He almost seems on the verge of tears.

“And I got so distracted while tryin’ to get our fussy boy to eat his dinner that I failed to hear the timer and let ours burn. Hence the fiasco you came home to. And when John started bellowing for his supper I was in the middle of the laundry and I forgot to separate the colorful items from the rest, so my new red jockeys turned our bathroom towels pink and….and I just failed so miserably today, sugar. I’m so sorry.”

You laugh, unable to help it. It’s all you can do at this point. “Welcome to my world, sweetheart.”

“How on Earth do you do it, sugar?”

If you’re being honest, you ask yourself that question at least once a day, and not always with the same emotional connotation behind it.

“There’s just something inside of me that encourages me to power through the difficulties. A force, a reminder.”

“An iron will for damn sure,” he scoffs.

“No, that’s not it,” you chuckle. “It’s love, Jack. For you and our boy. That’s what keeps me going.”

He looks at your have cradling his own, a gesture of both dominance and comfort. In this moment he believes that he is made of inferiority.

“I love you both to the moon and back, yet I can’t even do a load of laundry.”

“Jack you do enough. I have not, do not, and never will doubt your love for me and John,” you reassure him. “Acts of service just happen to be my particular love language, not yours.”

“Then what is mine?”

You lift his hands and kiss both sets of his knuckles. “Words of affirmation.”

His acts of service are for the world, but his words are just for you.

“But ain’t actions supposed to speak louder?”

“For others, maybe,” you shrug. “But that’s only because no one else speaks as loudly as you.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday @secretwriterpp @wannab-urs @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels #kingsman the golden circle #fluff #fem!reader #domestic fluff #Jack trying his best #stress #adulting #parenthood

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artz16 · 9 months

Text

So I’m living for Nimona. Living, loving it and especially live Nimona and Bal and Ambrosius

And then I thought of this AU/What If Scenrio:

Ballister and Nimona kidnapping Ambrosius

• So basically Ambrosius manages to sneak his way down to the dungeon without anyone catching him. This is when Ballister got arrested

• He finds his cell and talks to him, still weary on believing his best friend and love would actually kill the queen. He also feel extreeeeemely guilty upon seeing Ballister’s robotic arm and Ballister himself without it

• Ballister does his best to prove his innocence to Ambrosius and is begging him to believe he didn’t do it and was set up

• It’s a sad affair…until Nimona pops in inside the cell, spooking the both of them. She came to rescue Ballister

• Nimona: Hey Boss, sorry to intrude. Came to bust you out!

Ballister:!! H-How did you-?!

Ambrosius:!! Wha-? Bal, who’s this kid?

Nimona: Name’s Nimona. Oh! This is your nemesis, right? You want me to knock this guy out, Boss?

Ambrosius:!! What? Nemesis? Boss?

Ballister:!! No! No, I’m not her…I just met her. And no, no knocking him out. He’s not even my nemesis

Nimona:….So stabbing?

Ballister:!! NO! THAT’S EVEN WORSE!

• So then Bal is blubbering and Ambrosius is startled by this weird kid that wants to stab him

• Nimona breaks the keypad and lets Ballister out before Ambrosius could stop her and she’s just bantering him, which is annoying him and tiring Ballister as this isn’t how he wanted seeing Ambrosius again to go

• While they were squabbling, the sirens go off and guards come in to get Ballister and Nimona and Ambrosius is trying to make them stop to no avail

• Ballister and Nimona run, but then Nimona grabs Ambrosius and drags him with, making the guards believe they just took him hostage

• Ballister: Gah-! Let him go!

Nimona: C’mon, we’re villians! Taking hostages is a huge villain move!

Ballister: No, we’re not!

Ambrosius: Gah-! How strong is this kid, Bal?!

• So then Nimona shapeshifts and they escape, again taking Ambrosius with them. Ambrosius also ends up the one who gets knocked out by the debris

• Of course, Ballister now panics since, ya know, they kinda kidnapped his boyfriend who now probably has a concussion. Nimona just doesn’t get it and she’s like,”Boss, this is the guy who cut off your arm. Why do you care?” So, yeah, they kinda have to bring him with now

• Ballister, carrying the unconscious Ambrosius in his arms: This is bad, this is really bad

Nimona: Yeah…cuz you’re being a killjoy about it

Ballister:!! Wha-? Wha-? No! No! We literally kidnapped him! Now people will think I’m a murderer AND a kidnapper!

Nimona:…At least one thing true goin’ for ya!*smiles*

Ballister:*Sighs* I should’ve just stayed in jail

• So the Director, of course, uses this to malign Ballister and make him look bad as he just killed the queen, works with a monster, and now has taken the descendant of Gloreth captive

• After awhile, Ambrosius comes to in the tower with a bandaged head and Ballister sitting by him with the tacos Nimona made

• He jumps upon remembering that Nimona was all shapeshifting in front of him and was about to grab his sword…oooooonly Ballister took it and places it on the side while caring for him

• Nimona: Yeah, your sword’s over there, buddy

Ballister:…I took it off while you were out. Sorry

• Ambrosius is just trying to understand everything that happened since he went into the dungeon, but after a couple minutes and thst after there’s this shapeshifting kid right in front of him

• Ambrosius: So….Who are you?

Nimona: I’m Nimona and YOU are lucky the boss didn’t let me bite your leg while you slept

Ballister: I wouldn’t have let her. I promise

• After some time, Ambrosius collects himself and relaxes. He tells Ballister he really believes him and is all more than willing to clear his name. Though, he reluctantly agrees to work with Nimona

• So now he’s just with them and helping clear Ballister and trying his best to convince people that his bf and his shapeshifting sidekick didn’t kidnap him

There’s so much more than can be added and made just one this and I’m living for it!!

#nimona #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #nimona movie #I just thought of this and thought it be perfect!#just the idea of this man trying to say his man and his shapeshifter kid who won’t go away didn’t kidnap him!#it’s hilarious #Kidnapped Ambs AU

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geniuscomediae · 4 months

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Hi guys, I wrote a silly tiny self-indulgent gerrymichael fic!

AO3

warnings: internalized transphobia

She is cute and bubbly and shy and lovely, and something feels off about her. Gerry applies all of his knowledge about the supernatural to try and figure out whether something is wrong with her, he tries to warn Gertrude – she brushes his worries off, wich is unusual of her – and even manages to investigate her past and present, but finds nothing. She seems like a normal person, who just so happened to be the youngest and weirdest archival assistant he has ever seen.

Gerry knows she is twenty, – a year and a half older than him – she is both intelligent and academically smart, she likes Shakespeare and ABBA, she likes cats more than dogs and prefers tea over coffee. Digging through everything he can find about her Gerry finds out there were recurring incidents with a strange door in her childhood that almost made her psychiatrist she sees once every three months diagnose her with schizophrenia, but something convinced him otherwise. As far as Gerry is aware, she doesn't know it was the Spiral; she isn't aware of the Dread Powers at all, wich is worrying, because how the fuck didn't Gertrude think about telling her? Girl might be in danger if she's chosen by the Spiral. Gerry feels strange, he wants to protect her, he finds a strange resemblance in her even though they are completely different.

One day he finds her on her break in the library, sitting on the floor with a notebook and doodling. A cup of herbal tea she brings wuth her from home sits beside her, visibly cold and forgotten. He catches a glimpse of a page of her notebook with one name written several times, before she slams it shut and looks up at him, unsuccessfully trying to hide fear and shame.

"Good afternoon, Gerard," – she is, as always, polite and formal, even though they formed some sort of workplace friendship over the year. Gerry wonders if she would be less if he was officially employed, – "did you want something from me? I'm on my break right now, but I will gladly help you."

"No, no, don't worry", he waves his hand dismissively and sits down next to her. She anxiously fixes her sweater and he notices that something is even more off than usually.

"Actually, I'm here to talk. About a serious matter."

"Oh."

She looks almost as if she's in panic. She drags her knees to her chest, and Gerry finally notices what his mind ringed as wrong: it looks... Flatter. Not like she has lost some weight – Gerry doesn't think she should, but she told him once she doesn't feel comfortable in her body – but like something is flattening it.

"I- I didn't-" she stutters and tries to squirm further from him, but he interrupts her.

"It will probably sound invasive, but who is Michael?"

She freezes and he tries to fix whatever damage he has just dealt.

"Look, Curls, I'm an asshole and I work for the paranormal research institute and shit felt wrong about you since the day we met, so I investigated you. I was worried you might be a... a doppelganger, and your remarks about you feeling unwell in your body, and the talk we had about the superpowers and you picking the shapeshifting, and when I was sure you are a normal human being I started worrying you are stalked by something paranormal, and..."

He catches a breath, and she looks at him with wide eyes.

"And if you feel like this Michael, whoever he is, is a danger, you can tell me. Even if he's just a weird guy who makes you uncomfortable. I'm your friend after all, am I not? And... And I like you, and you know I don't give this kind of affection away easily, and I just want you to be safe, okay?"

The silence is almost deafening while she adjusts her glasses.

"Well..." she starts carefully, "You don't have to worry about Michael. And- and about me. I'm just... I don't know."

They sit in sikence again for some time.

"Can I trust you?" she asks suddenly, eyes slightly watery and lips pressed into a thin line.

"Of course. You can trust me with anything, Curls, I'm great at keeping secrets."

"I think I might not be a girl," she mutters, gripping the edge of her sweater. "I always felt good when I was mistaken for a boy. I know I'm soft and I like girly things, and skirts look good on me, and I love my hair long, but I'm just chasing this image of me that strangers will take for a young man and... And I hate my life so much."

He is looking away from Gerry the whole time he is speaking, on the verge of tears and trembling. Gerry reaches out and carefully hugs him, drawing him closer.

"Don't worry, Curls, I know what it feels like."

"Do you... Do you think you should be a girl?" he asks, wiping off tears from his cheeks.

"Holy fuck, no," Gerry laughes, shaking his head. "Been there, done that, not my cup of tea. I'm the same way you are, definitely not a girl."

Gerry feels so easy, almost as if he was drunk. This whole time the strange feeling about his almost-coworker was just a going off trans radar, not a subconscious awareness of paranormal shit or anything like that. He laughes again and pats him on the head.

"So," they say together and both stop, waiting for the other. Gerry gestures, inviting him to continue.

"About you liking me," he mumbles, blushing and looking away again. "Will that change now that you know I'm weird?.."

"Hell no, I like both girls and boys. Actually, I think I only like boys, since I was sure you were a first girl I fell for. Well, silly me. Okay, my turn: I'm not sure if I'm right, but I suppose you'd like me to call you Michael?"

"Yeah," he nods, smiling softly. "I would quite like it."

"So, Michael, are you free tonight?"

#tma #the magnus archives #michael shelley #gerry keay #gerard keay #gerrymichael #trans michael shelley #trans gerry keay #they're t4t.#thats it thsts the fic #tma fanfic

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derekbaxterandcove · 3 months

Text

It Was Only A Kiss

This little fic was HEAVILY inspired by that post discussing whether or not MC would be Derek's first kiss. (I can't find the post, but will reblog it again when I do!)

MC gets a late night call from a very apologetic Derek, who thinks he's made the worst mistake of his life, kiss someone else.

You can read it on Ao3 too!

I woke to the sound of the phone ringing. I propped myself up on my elbow, pawing at my bedside table in the dark. I finally grabbed it, the light blinding me as I turned it around. Derek’s picture flashed on the screen and I squinted. It was well past 2 in the morning.

I answered the call in a panic. Derek never called in the middle of the night. Or-typically- without asking. He was too polite to call out of the blue, even when I insisted he could.

“Derek?” I asked. I sounded as groggy and disoriented as I felt.

“I’m so sorry,” he said immediately.

I sat up in bed, a shot of fear tearing through me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It didn’t mean anything!”

I rubbed my eyes. Did Derek sound weird or was I just still half asleep?

“What didn’t mean anything Derek? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay!” He said it so dramatically I pulled the phone from my ear. I rubbed my hand over my face in confusion. This didn’t sound like the level-headed, easy-going Derek I had known for years. Was he...drunk?

“Hey, are you...have you been drinking?” I asked lightly. We were in our third year of college, well into the time it was expected you would drink, but as far as I had known, Derek wasn’t usually the type. He always had class, or early morning practices to worry about. ‘Letting lose’ wasn’t in his vocabulary.

The line went very quiet. He had.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked quieter, he had something on his mind, enough to call at 2 in the morning, and I wanted to hear him out.

“I just...I made a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?”

“Like, the worst one I’ve ever made.”

I tried to quell the growing panic in my chest. Drunk people exaggerated.

“What exactly happened?”

“Well, Josh-” One of his soccer teammates, I remembered, “Josh invited me to this end of the semester party, and I don’t have class in the morning,” he cut off.

“So you went to the party,” I prompted.

“I went to the party and this girl started talking to me, and she was really nice! She was nice and funny, and she’s on the girl’s soccer team.”

My heart-the one that had been crushing on Derek since we were 13-began to fall.

“And all of a sudden, I didn’t realize how close she had gotten, and I looked down, and then she was right there, with her arm around me. And I didn’t move, cause I- well I didn’t move, and then she kissed me.”

“Oh.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, and I tried to reign in the weird crushing sensation I was feeling. Derek and I had never made any promises. Well, that wasn’t true. We had made the marriage pact the summer we were 13. But besides that, we had never even confessed feelings for the other. I had no claim on him.

Derek didn’t owe me anything. But I was having a hard time convincing myself of that.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do I feel like I did?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop tears from brimming at the edge of my eyes. Hadn’t I kissed plenty of people? Dated my fair share? What a hypocrite I was to be feeling this way.

“Because you’ve had too much to drink. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, but I could already tell he sounded relived.

“Course I’m sure.”

The line went quiet for a minute and I built up the nerve to ask the question I really didn’t want the answer to, “Do you like her?”

He was quiet for such a long time I thought he had fallen asleep, but then, “I’m not sure.”

“Okay,” I said. My voice sounded distant and strange. I had to end the call before he saw right through me, “I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight, Derek.”

I hung up before he could answer.

#derek suarez #olba #our life #our life beginnings and always

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lykaios2 · 9 months

Note

may i request reciving headpats from Donnie please ? A fic or headcanons any of them would be great

you know headpats are amazing and you can't convince me otherwise

I've said this before and I'll say this again: sorry for the wait

anyway hope you enjoy! ❤️

The Comfort in a Touch

rise donnie x reader

cw: panic attack

wc: 1280 words

It was a Friday night, the perfect time to kick back and relax after a long week. And your idea of kicking back was going over to the lair and hanging out with your favorite turtles. Somehow, you had convinced Donnie to stop working on his projects and hang out with you. Mikey and Raph were out shopping in the Hidden City for ingredients for a new dish Mikey wanted to try. Leo apparently had a date, but no one knows how that happened. That left you and Donnie alone at the lair.

Of course, that meant chaos. You and Donnie were like two peas in a pod. You fed off of each other's energy. No one could ever guess what you two would do next.

On this night, it was no different. No one knows exactly how it came to be, but you were on the floor, crawling around on all fours, and Donnie was watching you, laughing uncontrollably. Something about the way you moved was so unnatural, but to him, it was equally as hilarious. As he watched you, he thought to himself how closely you resembled a feral animal. And what do you do to animals? Pet them, of course, he thought.

"Aw, who's my adorable little feral animal? You are, yes you are."

You laughed at the comment, but when Donnie reached his hand down to pat your head, you froze. Donnie stopped as well, confused by what was happening.

"A-are you okay? Did I do something?"

You shook your head to tell him it wasn't his fault. Well, it was, but he didn't do anything wrong. When he gave you the headpats, it felt strangely comforting. It was almost like you felt small, but in a good way. Like you were safe and protected.

Donnie still didn't know what was going on, so he sat down next to you and asked again.

"Yeah, I'm okay..."

"Then what happened? Why did you stop?"

You didn't answer him, and instead curled up into a ball. You didn't want to tell him, it sounded weird and embarrassing to say. But it was so nice...

"y/n?"

"...I stopped because..."

"Because...?"

"...well, I...I liked it when you were...giving me headpats. But I didn't think it would feel so nice...so I just kinda froze up."

Donnie looked at you for a second. He didn't know what to do with that information, but he could tell that something about it made you not want to share it with him. You covered your face, scared that Donnie would make fun of you for liking being pet like a cat. But all he did next was put his hand back on your head.

"Like...this?"

You were confused at his action, but also, the feeling of safety and comfort were mixed in, too. In that moment, all you could do was nod your head and hoped he wouldn't make any comments about it.

"Okay...good to know, I guess."

"Wait...you don't think this is stupid or something?"

"Not really. I mean, I wouldn't exactly say physical touch is my main love language, but it's nice sometimes, and I understand the appeal."

A wave of relief washed over you as Donnie said that. You let out a small smile as you turned to look at him.

"Heh, thanks. That's comforting to know."

"No problem. Although, if you don't mind me asking, what about the headpats makes you enjoy it?"

You explained to him how it made you feel safe and comfortable. He listened, not speaking until you were finished.

"I see. I'll keep that in mind, then."

After everything, you admitted to Donnie that you didn't feel like doing any crazy activities anymore, so he suggested watching a movie. You agreed, and after picking out a movie, you and Donnie sat down in the living room with some snacks and watched the movie. Eventually, everyone came back, and shortly after you had to leave. You said your goodbyes, and headed home.

After that night, you and Donnie were able to move past the incident and hang out normally. You continued to go over to the lair every so often, and hung out with the turtles a lot. Neither you or Donnie said a word to his brothers about that night, and it just became something that happened.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Donnie kept true to his word. He held the information he learned that night deep in the recesses of his memory. He didn't think about it much, but he always kept that thought stored away. He never thought he would need it.

That was, until one night. Earlier that day, you had invited him over to your place to hangout. It had been a rough couple weeks at work, and some time with a turtle friend was just what you needed. When he arrived, he expected you to remember he was coming, so he let himself in. When he opened the door, the lights were off. He thought it was a bit strange but he figured you were somewhere else. But it was almost completely silent, which was even more confusing to him.

"Hello?" He called out. No response.

"y/n? I'm here!" Still nothing.

He set his things down and began to look around. The light was on in the kitchen, so he checked there first. There were some plates out, so you must have been there recently. He continued to look around the house, until he eventually heard something coming from your room. It sounded like...crying? He opened the door, and there you were. Crying in the corner of your room, curled up into a ball.

He rushed over to you, and kneeled next to you. He tried to get your attention, but nothing was working.

"Wait...shaking, quick breathing...and a fast heart rate...you're having a panic attack! Oh my..."

Donnie knew that all he could do in the moment was to be there to comfort you and help you. He remembered that panic attacks don't last very long, so all he had to do was sit here and wait. But what could he do to help?

"y/n...I'm sorry, but this is the only way I can think to help you."

He reached his hand out, and started to rub your head. For a second, nothing happened, but then you jerked away from him. He retracted his hand, scared he had made it worse. In reality, he had calmed you down slightly, enough for you to start coming out of the panic attack. After a minute, he started apologizing in a worried tone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I really didn't. I was just trying to- huh?"

He paused. He didn't notice, but you had grabbed his hand. You didn't speak, but you slowly lifted his hand up and placed in back on your head. Donnie was a little confused, but you still said nothing.

"What...?"

You scooted closer to him. After a second, Donnie finally got the hint. He slowly started to rub your head again, and you scooted closer to him. Eventually, you were right next to him, leaning against him. Donnie spoke as he continued to rub your head.

"Hey. I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help."

You nodded. You were still trying to calm down, so you couldn't speak. But the headpats were so comforting...it was that feeling of safety again. The feeling of protection. You were able to muster up a quiet "thank you" to Donnie, to which he hummed in response.

"We can just sit here for a while...if you'd like. I don't mind."

"Yes...I would like that."

#lykaios writes #rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie rottmnt #donnie x reader

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shotos-angelic-whore · 2 months

Text

ONE

cw: cancer, swearing, bakugo has a mini panic attack, doctor talk (?), if I missed anything let me know

Staring at herself in the mirror, she repeats the words: you're beautiful, over and over; to try and convince herself to believe it.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom and knocking lightly on the door. "You shouldn't have to convince yourself that you're beautiful; you should already know that you are." He approaches her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissing her shoulder.

"I just haven't felt like it since shaving my head two months ago," she says, looking at him through the mirror.

"Well, I think you're beautiful—with or without hair," he smiles, kissing her cheek. “Plus, if you didn’t shave your head, it would’ve been more difficult for the surgeons.”

Her frown turns into a smile as his lips make contact with her cheek. "Thank you, Katsuki." she turns around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I wanted to ask you something,” he says, looking down at her in awe.

"Ask away," she smiles.

"My class from UA has a ten year reunion coming up in about a month. And Kirishima is really pressing for me to attend. So I was wondering if you'd like to be my plus one?" he questions.

"And get to meet all your friends from high school, l'd love too!" she exclaims, placing a kiss on his lips.

"Good." he kisses back.

She pulls away from the embrace and jumps up and down in excitement. "This gives me an excuse to wear a fancy dress and a wig!”

“[Y/n], I’ve told you: I don’t have a problem being seen with you without a wig.” he says with sincerity.

“And I’ve told you, Katsuki: I don’t feel comfortable going places without a wig. I get weird looks and people tend to stare.” she pouts.

“If anyone gives you a hard time, I’ll blow them up,” he smiles at her.

“I’ll consider not wearing one,” she smiles in return. “But no promises,” she leans up and pecks his lips.

“I can deal with that,” he says as she pulls away and turns on the faucet in the tub, allowing the water to heat up before she starts getting undressed.

“Care to join me?” she smiles over her shoulder at her husband, knowing damn well he won’t say no.

“Of course!” he strips himself of his clothing, stepping into the tub of warm water and sitting down. She sits between his legs, her back against his chest. He places a kiss to the back of her shoulder blades, whispering a quiet ‘I love you’. To which she responds with: ‘I love you more’.

~~~~~

A week later, Katsuki returns home one night after patrol to find his wife passed out on the kitchen floor.

“[Y/N]!” He rushes to her side to see if she’s still breathing. He quickly calls an ambulance when he can’t get her to wake up. When the phone is picked up, he doesn’t give the receiver a chance to say anything before saying: “I got home to my wife passed out on the kitchen floor, I can’t get her to wake up!” His voice wavers as he pulls her head into his lap.

Feeling something wet and sticky on the scarf covering her head, he looks at his hand. Blood. “OK, breathe. What’s the address?” The lady questions.

He gives her the address and adds, “She hit her head pretty hard, she’s bleeding.” He can’t help the tears that fall free.

“Ok, there’s an ambulance on its way. What’s your name?” The lady says calmly.

“Katsuki Bakugo. My wife’s name is [Y/n].” He answers, looking at her face.

“Katsuki Baku-” the lady cuts herself off, but quickly regains composure after realizing Pro Hero Dynamight is calling because his wife passed out in the kitchen.

“Do you want to stay on the pho-” he hangs up, not wanting to deal with this phone lady being so calm.

He knows she has to be, but he can’t stand it. Paramedics rush into the house—Katsuki left it open—and quickly make their way to [Y/n]’s limp body.

“Sir, you need to let go of her so we can take care of her,” says the woman paramedic.

Katsuki looks up at her and nods. The paramedic gently takes [Y/n] out of Katsuki’s lap and gets her up and the gurney, checking vitals.

“Pulse is weak, but there.”

Another paramedic opens [Y/n]’s eyes and shines a light in them. “No response.”

The chatter amongst the rushing paramedics drown out as Katsuki stands in the kitchen staring at his hand covered in her blood. He’s had blood on his hands before; he is the number two Hero after all. But this was [Y/n]’s blood. His wife’s blood.

He suddenly finds himself struggling to breathe, the sound of his heartbeat behind his ears becoming too much. Everything becomes too much. The sirens of the ambulance and cop cars, the paramedics rushing around to help [Y/n], the lights in the kitchen, even the feeling of his clothes on his skin was too much.

“Sir,” the same paramedic from before looks into Katsuki’s eyes, waving her hand in front of his face. “Sir, it’s alright we’re gonna take care of her. Are you riding in the ambulance with her?” Katsuki only nods in response, not able to form words. “OK, come on,” she places a hand on his shoulder and leads him into ambulance, where [Y/n] is laying completely still on the gurney, a heart monitor beeping very slowly, and a male paramedic tending to her head wound.

Usually if someone other than [Y/n], or friends and family touches him, he’d pull away; but he can’t.

He steps up into the ambulance, sitting in the seat designated for the other person, and grabs his wife’s hand. Running his thumb over her wedding band, he whispers: “Stay with me, [Y/n], please.”

Once at the ER, the paramedics rush [Y/n] into the building.

“[Y/n] Bakugo. Female. 26 years old. Husband found her passed out on the kitchen floor when he got home. She’s got a wound on her head from the fall and her pulse is weak.” Says the male paramedic.

“OK, trauma room two.” Says a doctor, stopping Katsuki as he goes to follow. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there.”

Katsuki look at the doctor with tear filled eyes. “She had brain surgery two months ago. They took out her cancer.” He informs. “Please tell me it’s not back,” he pleads.

“It’s too soon to tell, we’ll get her to a CT and let you know. I’m Dr. Suzuki and I will personally keep you updated.” She nods. “Go ahead and make some calls to family and friends who you would want here, alright.” She says, following as the other doctors roll the bed [Y/n] is on out of the trauma room and into the main hospital.

masterlist • next

#mha #katsuki bakugo #bnha #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

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blurbios · 11 months

Text

Trapped

cw: alcohol, a bit suggestive

other: fem! reader, dialogue heavy, dabi is pushy again

chapter three of a birthday outing

As the night went on you tried your best to be in the moment with your friends. You hadn’t realized how much you had to drink until it ran right through you. “Ume!” You tapped her on the shoulder. “I need to pee.”

“Okay? Then go, I think it’s over there.” She pointed you to the neon restroom signs.

“Come with me, please.” You tugged on her hand.

“I can’t, I gotta make a move on Yuki before I give in and get drunk.”

“It’ll be quick.” You tried to convince her.

“If it’ll be quick, then I’m sure you’ll be fine, y/n.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You stood up to make your way through the crowd.

“Love you, too” Ume chimed as she waved at you. As you weaved your way through the bodies occupying the club, you felt the heavy gaze of the stranger fall upon you once again. You didn’t even know where he was, but you knew he was just watching you like it was some weird game. No matter where you went, he knew exactly where you were. You had to wait in line for the bathroom and Dabi took his chance to finally pounce.

“Hey, excuse me, miss.” He tried to sound kind.

A jolt of panic shot through your body as you turned to see who it was talking to you. ”Hi, sorry, have we met?” He could barely hear you over the music, but that didn’t matter.

A grin crept onto his face. “No and you don’t need to. Listen, today’s my buddy’s birthday.” He looked down at you, to make sure you were listening. When his azure gaze locked with yours you felt the panic resurge as you nodded along. “He’s a real loner type, so I was wondering if a doll such as yourself would help make his night.”

You broke eye contact when you saw that the line had moved in your peripheral, much to your relief. “Sorry, not interested.” You quickly squeaked out as you moved past him and into the safety of the bathroom. He lifted his hand to yank you back, but managed to stop himself. He stood there for a moment contemplating just following you in, but he remembered that he couldn’t cause a scene because Toga had promised they’d be on their best behavior. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s night, after all and he was just so close to having you where he wanted. You used the bathroom and promptly washed your hands. As you exited the bathroom you turned directly into him, falling into his trap.

"There you are." He caged you between his body and the wall. "As I was saying, you don't have to sleep with him or anything, just talk to the poor guy."

"Again, I'm not interested. Please, just leave me alone." You shook your head.

"All you gotta do is make the guy smile." He roughly grabbed your chin and and jerked your face up to look at him, his blue eyes piercing into you. "You can do that, can't ya?" He breathed into your face. You tried to push him away, but he was an immovable object. He chuckled at your meek attempt at getting away. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you alongside him to their table. "You better play nice." He pushed you into the booth next to the boy in the black hoodie that was still fixated on his phone. Then he sat on the edge of the seat, trapping you once again. You looked around at the strangers sitting around the table and felt yourself growing more anxious by the minute. You glanced over to your table and saw Ume and Yuki talking, at least somebody was having a good time. You wished someone would look at you and see the fear in your eyes, but nobody cared, nobody noticed. Nobody except Dabi, of course, who still had that grin on his face as he watched you struggle to find your footing. He was so proud of himself and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

a/n: oh brother, this chapter is a bit short, but I feel like if i continued with the next chunk the chapter would end up being huge lol sorry it took so long, my brain has not been cooperating as of late, pero we will work through it. i'll prob try to get another chapter out before june because the first week of june i won't be able to come on here. hope you're all doing well as always x ALSO I PROMISE TOMURA AND THE READER WILL INTERACT NEXT CHAPTER LMAO

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istadris · 9 months

Text

More about this AU about Dr Mario and Mr L from separate words meeting in the Mushroom Kingdom.

@snowyfrostshadows @kuramirocket I am thanking both of your tags for stirring my brain into writing more.

It's far from smooth sailing at first.

There's the initial thrill, the euphoria of a dream come true -I found you, I finally found you again, you came back to me- but quickly bumps in the road appear and frustrate them both.

Both have trauma regarding their own brother, both are worried they're subconsciously trying to replace their missing brother, or that this Other is trying to do the same with them.

Dr. Mario is very closeted emotionally, almost stunted. Man of few words, keeping his emotions close to his chest, rarely allowing himself to express how he feels, even when he's hurting. And always, always caring more about others than himself, to the point of putting himself in danger and blindly trusting strangers, despite not being a fighter (he does packs a mean punch, but he's not the agile, athletic Mario we're familiar with). He fusses and worries a lot about Mr. L, gets stressed if he can't help him, and every time Mr L snaps at him, he bears it stoically, even if it hurts. He deserves it (he should have done more). He can take it (it should have been him instead). He doesn't mind if Mr L refuses to call him by his name, as long as he's safe and sound.

Mr L is loud, angry and aggressive to hide his anxiety. He's so relieved yet deeply scared to finally have his brother back (but it's not his brother, it will never be his Mario), because he will mess up again and lose him again, he knows it, so better do the job yourself to spare yourself the pain...and yet every time he's about to push Dr Mario away for good, he panics and tries to make things better, he can't leave him behind again. His memory still blocks out most of what happened to his own Mario -all he remembers is being surrounded, there's too many of them, and then the next memory is him running covered in wounds, tears blurring his vision, and most of all, the agony of knowing his brother was gone. Every time he tries to remember, to dig deeper, panic inevitably seeps in, coiling around this throat until he's gasping for air and forces him to kick back to the surface out of instinct.

It doesn't help that Dr Mario had several years to process his brother's death, even if it still hurts after all this time : at least he knows what happened. Meeting another version of Luigi...he can't help but wonder if that's the universe giving him another chance .

Meanwhile, Mr L is in the grey and can't process his brother's death properly, so he is tense about this other version of Mario, and while he doesn't realize it consciously (at first), he associates his own brother with guilt, the Doctor being a living reminder of what he failed to do. (A part of him is also angry at himself for hoping for the impossible when he saw that terribly familiar yet foreign face: that his Mario had survived against all odds).

Despite the tension, Dr Mario manages to convince Mr L to stick together until at least they reach some kind of town. (Not that Mr L actually needed much effort to convince; despite his complaints, he doesn't let the Doc go out of his sight).

Of course once they do reach town and get over the weirdness of Toads, they learn about how the Koopa King has been attacking the kingdom and now the princess has been kidnapped. And of course the first thing Dr Mario wants to do is helping these strange little people. Mr L is baffled and reluctant. Why should they bother with these guys ?? Don't they have enough problems ? Mr L's trust has been abused before and it drives him crazy to watch the Doc (he doesn't want to call him Mario, not at that time) get roped into risking his neck against a freaking king. A fire-breathing ten foot monster, if the rumours are true.

They argue about it. Loudly. The argument gets out of hand, and at some point Mr L snarls "Stop thinking you get a say in my life just because I look like some dead kid! I'm not your brother and you are ! NOT ! MINE !!"

Dr Mario freezes and Mr L thinks he's finally pushed him beyond the limit. That the calm and composed doctor is finally going to snap and get angry.

(He wants Mario to be angry at him, he wants him to finally voice out loud all that guilt he carried for years).

Instead, Dr Mario looks...exhausted.

"You're right." He finally says in a soft, tired voice. "I'm not. And even if I was, I shouldn't put you of all people in danger. It's fine. I'll take care of the situation," he adds with a soft smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "just...stay safe, okay? That's all I'm asking."

And something rotten curls inside Mr L's gut as he watches his brother the doctor Mario leave, you're abandoning him again YOU COWARD.

He can't stop himself from following him at a distance, and it quickly proves to be the right call because it appears quickly that Dr Mario is NOT a fighter, quickly out of his depth against the first Koopa patrol he encounters. Mr L charges and scatters the Koopas, and when Dr Mario expresses surprise at his presence, he immediately blusters and claims loudly that Dr Mario trying to be a hero is giving him second-hand embarrassment...

"But hey," he says as he holds out his hand to the doc on the ground, "brother or not, I should at least make sure you won't die stupidly on your first try at adventure. That's a dumb way to end your game."

Dr Mario is...puzzled. And yet so, so relieved.

It's the first step of a long road. They don't know where it will lead.

But they're going to take it together.

#super mario bros #my writing #Missing Half AU #maybe ?#still workshopping the name #miscellaneous mario madness #mr l #dr mario

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dallina17 · 1 month

Note

hi! how did u come up with angelic vogue? Do you have any headcanons for them?

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask!

I am not sure if you are asking how I came up with the ship name or the ship itself so I am going to tell both.

The ship came to my mind one day when I was talking with my sister about weird ships that we had. I was telling her about the Hazbin Hotel ones and said that I didn't have too many. But then my brain connected neurons finally and I said "But I feel like maybe Emily and Velvette would be a great ship". And it was supposed to end there...

But it didn't. The more I thought of it, the more I said... Wait a second, they actually make a lot of sense!! They could be the extremist version of Lilith and Lucifer!!! So I started to get really invested in the ship, think about the dynamic, how would they met and how their relationship would develop overtime. And now they are my OTP lmao.

As for the ship name, it took me a while to decide on a name that I felt was proper for them. I wanted Emily's part of the ship to be something around halo, angelic, angel, but I couldn't decide something good for Velvette. There was "doll" and I guess that angelic doll could also work, but I wanted something more original I think? So I checked synonyms for "fashion" (due to Velvette being a fashion icon) and there it was vogue. I fused angelic and vogue and TARAN!! we have a name!

And yes! I have headcanons, here are some of them!

They didn't have a good beginning. Velvette thought Emily was too pussy and weak for all the power she had. Emily thought Velvette was extremely mean and a cretin.

But once they conveyed for a while, they found out good qualities in the other. Velvette realized that Emily was not someone you could just push around, and Emily liked her leadership and social skills.

In Heaven, Emily always wanted to learn how to cook, but she was a seraphim! How could someone so mighty learn something so mundane when there were angels who could do it for her? So when she arrives in hell, she makes it her mission to learn how to cook and of course, Velvette is her Guinea pig.

Velvette wasn't so sure about the idea, but eventually Emily (puppy eyes) convinced her to try her food and it was great! From then on, Velvette eats anything that Emily cooks, and Emily loves to cook for Velvette. She will search for the best and unique recipes to make her. Both Hell and Heaven ones.

On the other side, Velvette loves making clothes. Like, she can just materialize them, but for special people like Emily, she likes to make the designs, buy the fabrics, and sew them. She makes a lot of the outfits Emily wears in hell. Always with a lot of hearts.

Emily favorite's clothes are the first ones that Velvette made for her. An overalls with a skirt, doll shoes, long socks, and a shirt. Velvette says that that outfit was so basic and she could do so much better, but Emily loves it because it was the first one that Velvette gave to her, so is very special.

Velvette absolutely hates Emily's seraphim dresses. She says they don't do justice to her beauty. She burned them.

The first time Emily had a panic attack since she fell, it was in front of Velvette. Velvette didn't know what to do, but she was there with Emily until she calmed down. Not saying anything, just being there with her.

Since then, every time Emily feels she is about to have a panic attack and Velvette is not there, she calls her. Emily is the only one allowed to interrupt Velvette's meetings.

Vox and Charlie are number one Angelic Vogue shippers. But for utterly different reasons.

When Emily eventually gets her wings back, they will have a red strake due to Velvette's influence.

She loves to take Velvette in her arms or back and fly with her. Dance in the sky, make her spin.

Velvette was terrified of flying at first, but now she loves it.

In Heaven, part of Emily's work was to make parties and she did very good ones. Velvette also knows how to throw good parties. When organizing parties together at the beginning it was hard for them to see eye-to-eye due to having different conceptions of what made a party "good", but when they found common ground, their parties became one of the best in hell. Even Queen Bee was impressed.

Emily fell in love first, she realized it when Velvette defended her, not caring if that would get her hurt. It felt good to be the priority of someone for once.

There are many reasons why Emily fell in love with Velvette, but the main reason is because of how honest she is. She is tired of lies. It is refreshing to have someone who would never lie to her and always tell her the truth, even if it hurts.

It took a long time for Velvette to understand she was in love with Emily, and she freaked out when she finally admitted it.

She also freaked out when Emily confessed her feelings. But Emily calmed her, so Velvette was able to say she felt the same.

They are very clingy with each other and try to find a way to always be touching. Emily never misses the opportunity to hug her.

Emily loves flowers so Velvette always gives them to her. Emily's favorite flowers are Vrieseas, so their room is full of them.

They totally wear matching couple necklaces.

That's all I have for now! Again, thank you so much for asking. You made me very happy with your ask ♥️💙

#ask #anon #hazbin hotel #seraphim emily #emily #hazbin hotel emily #velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x emily #emilette #angelic vogue #hazbin hotel headcanon #angelic vogue headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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dragoneye01 · 2 years

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Omg your Ladybug fanfic was so good! I have a request for him too if that’s alright, how about Ladybug when reader helps him with his anxiety and just kinda supports him?

Sure thing!

Ladybug x Reader

Word Count: 721

Your anxiety was creeping up on you. you could feel its tendrils wrapping around your limbs. It was inevitable. Everytime you get on a bullet train this happens. The close proximity to other people. The fast-moving train. The workers that always seemed to be judging you.

When the anxiety was getting to be too much, you got out of your seat, convinced that you needed to take a walk. As your legs moved your heart beat so fast it hurt. Your hands shook and you kept putting your hands in your pockets then taking them out again. Not knowing what your aim was, you ended up in the train car with a bar in it. You blinked.

There was a man in this car, all by himself, sitting on a couch-like set of seats and breathing in and out rapidly. He looked like he was in the middle of a panic attack, not even noticing you.

Your brain kicked into responsibility mode and you walked right up to the guy, sitting next to him.

“Hey, are you ok?” It was stupid to ask, but it was all you could come up with.

“I just have bad luck, that's all.” He said in between deep breaths. You swallowed, staring at his pale face. “Everything always fucks over when I do it. I try to put out good energy, but it doesn’t always come back.”

“Take a breath.” You said.

“Look, that’s what I’m doing.” He seemed annoyed.

“Fine, give me your hands, then.”

The man looked at you funny and then sighed heavily. He turned towards you, your knees bumping into each other. He offered you both his hands, palms up. You had a red beaded bracelet around your wrist, unwrapping it once, twice, three times. It was a very long bracelet that doubled as a necklace or a set of prayer beads. A gift from a friend who knew you had anxiety. Wrapping your hand around his, you wrapped your red bracelet around your intertwined hands.

“Can you feel my hand?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course I can.” He seemed confused.

“Have you heard of the five fives rule?”

“No.”

“What are five things you see?” You asked.

“I see. . . you. I see the bracelet, the windows, the door, and my shoes.”

“That’s good. . .” You trailed off, not knowing his name.

“Call me Ladybug.”

“That’s good, Ladybug. Now tell me four things you hear.”

“Ok.” He took a deep breath, concentrating. “I hear the train tracks, the custodian cart, my breathing.”

“What are three things you feel?”

“The beads, your hands. They’re warm, but the beads are cool. And. . . I feel my shirt sticking to me.” He sighed.

“And two things you smell?”

“Smell? Uh. . . cleaning supplies and. . . uh, your smell.”

“My smell?”

“Yeah. It’s soft, but it’s good.”

“Thank you. Now, Ladybug, last of all, what’s one thing you can taste?” You asked him, placing your other hand on top of the one that he was holding.

“I taste wasabi peas. I found a bag and ate some.” He admitted with a sheepish smile, looking at you with dazzling eyes.

“How do you feel, Ladybug?” You said quietly.

“I feel. . . better, calmer. How’d you do that?” He asked, not letting go of your hand. Through helping him with his anxiety, yours felt like it fell off of you. You felt better, calmer, the same.

“Therapy.” You laughed awkwardly.

“There’s no shame in it. I’m seeing a therapist right now. He’s never told me anything like that before.” Ladybug’s smile was contagious.

“Practice makes-”

“Perfect?” Ladybug grinned.

“Progress, actually.” You corrected him with your own grin. You took your hand off his and unwrapped the beads. He still held your hand, not wanting to let go.

“You’re like a magic anchor, keeping me from floating away.” He laughed. “Is that weird to say?”

“Not at all. I don’t think anyone’s said that to me before. I can be your good luck charm.” You giggled, squeezing his hand before letting go. Before he could pull away, you wrapped your beads around his wrist.

“Red for good luck.” You told him.

“But they’re yours.” Ladybug looked taken aback.

“You’ll need them more than I do, Ladybug. I get the feeling that you have a lot going on right now.”

“You have no idea.”

#my writing #dragoneye01 #ladybug imagine #ladybug bullet train #ladybug x reader #ladybug #bullet train imagine #bullet train #bullet train x reader

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