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luveline · 7 months

Note

hi miss jade <3 if it hasn’t been done already, could you possibly write poly!marauders with a depressed reader? maybe she’s having a particularly hard time lately and she’s trying to hide it from them but they notice she’s been really quiet recently. then one day while they’re all just sitting together, one of them looks over and sees a tear rolling down her cheek and they comfort her </3 if this isn’t something you’re up to writing i understand! thank you nonetheless lovely <3

thank u for ur request lovely!

modern au

“No,” Remus is whispering, “that's the other actor.”

James leans into his side. You've successfully crammed yourselves onto the three seater sofa, all four of you. You're on one arm, Sirius the other. If Sirius and James sit together during a movie they won't stop talking, and if you and Remus sit together you'll spend the entire movie telling each other what other movies the actors have been in.

James and Remus seem to have found a loophole. Sirius tries uselessly to reach over their shoulders to touch you, but James blocks him by accident, head tilting back in a laugh.

You aren't in the mood for movies. Not their fault, not anyone's, but a melancholy has its hooks in you, and you'd excuse yourself to spend time alone with it if it didn't immediately draw their attention. You're not sure you want to be alone, either.

James reaches for your hand even as he speaks to Remus excitedly, “He's Ryan Gosling, right?”

“Yeah, James,” —said with love— “that's Ryan Gosling.”

You hold James' hand. It's a very real, very gentle tether, but eventually the noise in the room turns white. You lay your cheek on the sofa arm and watch the movie pass by in colours. Dusky orange, pink, blue rain. Your hard times recently have felt longer, deeper, and you've floundered in them helplessly.

Though the boys couldn't make it worse, their devotion tends to hurt. You feel like you're letting them down whenever you can't fight your lethargy. Even now when you're together for a normal night, you're stuck under the weight of it. You could be playing with James’ hair the way he loves, or telling Remus something interesting about the movie. You could crawl across the two chatterboxes and ask Sirius what he did at work today while he draws shapes into the back of your hand. But you're not. And everything begins to feel worse.

The TV flickers. The room hums. The tear that slides down your cheek is hot as the drag of a pin.

You shift down into the arm to hide it as more follow. James pulls his hand away, and you assume he's just getting comfortable, but he puts it on your shoulder, the sofa whining as he leans in. “Hey…” he whispers, nearly too soft to hear. He must've been watching you. They've been doing that more and more lately.

Your shoulders shake as the first sob brews. They aren't overly loud, you aren't wound tightly enough to really cry, you're just defeated. Tired and scared that this feeling is forever.

The contented atmosphere in the room drains quicker than snapped fingers. “What's wrong?” Sirius asks.

You curl away from James. You can't pretend you aren't crying and you don't really want to, but something about his touch feels raw. He comes closer, leaning into you, hand chasing around to your front where it rests over your heart. “It's okay,” he says soundly. “Oh, honey, it's okay.”

James isn't as heavy with the pet names as the other two. When he does use them, they're genuine but said in high spirits. Almost like a joke, his ever-present humour shining through. He's warm and steady behind you, his lips brushing your ear as he hugs you to his chest. “It's okay,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry.”

Remus says your name unhappily. They know better than to converge on you, and James has always been good at comforting people. Maybe his solidness in both physicality and personality does him credit, but more likely it's his unending patience. He doesn't rush you into feeling better. He just stays right there at your side until you stop shaking.

“Sorry,” you say again, voice in fractured layers, “I don't know…”

“I know,” he says. “Let's sit up, okay? Sit up.”

Remus gives you a look with just enough heartbreak that when he holds out his hand, you raise yourself up, knowing James will take you by the waist and help you over his lap. You smush in between their legs as Remus wipes your face dry, and Sirius meets your eyes around his shoulder. It all works to lift the weight from your chest, not fully, but enough to breathe.

“You don't have to explain.”

“Just don't cry more,” Sirius begs. He really hates tears, doesn't know what to do with them. “You're too lovely for tears.”

“Unless you need to,” James says.

“Right,” Sirius agrees through a wince.

“She's okay,” Remus says, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, “hmm? You're alright.”

He isn't pressuring you into pretending things are better than they are, he's encouraging, and he knows as you know that you're not very well, but you'll manage in the end. You sink back into James arms and smile at them weakly.

“I'm okay. I just wanted James to rub my stomach, that's all.”

“Theatrics in the name of attention,” Sirius says proudly. “As you should.”

James wraps his arms around your front, giving your abdomen a squeeze as he leans down to say, “I'll rub your stomach all night if you want me to,” with a warmth so tender it escapes words.

Remus drops back into Sirius rather aggressively. “Make haste.”

“Make haste?” Sirius presses his nose into Remus’ curls, his voice dripping with a feigned contempt, “You make haste, you sick freak.” And then he raises his hand to cover Remus' stomach in mirror of James’ touch.

You breathe out long and slow, eyes closing of their own accord. “I'm not going to sleep, okay? I'm just tired.”

James gets comfortable underneath you. “Do what you want, babe. I'm here for the night. If I need to pee I'll just hoist you into Moony's lap for a bit.”

“I can fit two, thanks,” Sirius interjects.

“Fine. I'll hoist you into his lap. Though I've no clue why you'd want to spend any time with that bossy bastard.”

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alltoowelltom · 3 months

Note

Thinking about Oscar buying his gf flowers for the first time (holding back tears)

-🌷(can i possibly be🌷anon?)

he would be determined. thank you for requesting and of course you can be 🌷 anon!

"Can I help you find anything?" the sales assistant asks kindly. She's got an amused smile on her face at the sight of the young man who appears overwhelmed at the selection of flowers laid in front of him. He'd considered leaving - there was too much variety, too many different options - but when he had laid eyes on the small floral store earlier he had become determined to buy a bouquet for you. He'd never bought you flowers before, never bought anyone flowers before. But you'd been together for a few months by now and he wanted to surprise you.

"Uh, yeah, maybe." He replies. "I wanna buy flowers for my girl- but which am I supposed to get her? How do I know what she'll like?" He rambles.

The woman only smiles at his nervous excitement, clearing off her table.

Oscar spends nearly half an hour listening intently to her explanations, taking in all the information as carefully as if he was hearing about the team's new car. He takes notes on his phone, making sure to write down the meanings of the flowers he chooses with her guidance.

He chews his lip lightly as she wraps the bouquet of hydrangeas, zinnias and baby's breath in translucent paper, tying a shiny white ribbon around too.

"Did you want to add a card too?" she asks, offering him a small pink card and a pen. Oscar thanks her, taking the pen and filling in both your name and his in the respective 'to' and 'from' spaces. His mind blanks as he tries to think of a message to add. How could he possibly find the words to explain how much you've become to him in a short period of time? He draws a shaky heart instead, hoping it will be enough to explain how he feels. The shop assistant loops the card onto the ribbon, tying it in a neat bow and handing the bouquet to Oscar who thanks her profusely for all her help.

"Don't be so nervous," she reassures him. "She'll love it, because you chose them for her."

"Hi baby," he calls, pushing the front door behind him. You'd stayed over at his apartment the night before and at his delight you'd opted to stay there all day too, promising you'd still be waiting once he got home from work. Despite it being early on in your relationship the thought of you usually being there when he got home (or vice versa) made his heart skip a beat.

"Kitchen!" you call, stirring a pot of pasta. He follows the sound of your voice.

"Hi," you greet him happily, turning the stove down and turning to give him a kiss. You stop short seeing what he's holding.

"Uh, these are for you." He says bluntly, holding them out. You can't hide the grin stretching across your features as you take it from him, flipping over the card and bringing the flowers close to your face.

"Thank you Oz," you say almost shyly. "What's the occasion?" You're already hunting in Oscar's cupboards for something vaguely vase-shaped. Unsurprisingly he has nothing of the sort so you settle for a clear Camelbak water bottle, filling it and placing the flowers inside.

"I don't need an occasion to get flowers for my best girl." He says, reaching one hand behind your head to press a sweet kiss to your mouth. You kiss him back happily.

"You like them?" He asks between pecks to your forehead.

"Yeah," you nuzzle into his chest and he's happy to just hold you in the middle of the kitchen. "I love them, 'cause they're from you."

🌼Hydrangea - gratitude

🌼Zinnia - constancy

🌼Baby's breath - everlasting love

#oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri fluff #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #smau #op81 #formula 1 x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one smau #oscar piastri #smut #f1 x you #f1 fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns.

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

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cerise-on-top · 6 months

Note

Against PDA Valeria/Laswell x Jealous Fem Reader

Some girl flirting and looking at them, and Reader can't do anything to mark her territory, so she just have to watch and send dirty glances to the girl.

And back home, they assured her they love her AND ONLY HER!

I don't usually write a gendered reader, but I made an exception this time because I vibe with your profile pic and because those two are among my favorite lesbians. I suppose I sort of did have to write a fem!reader for this one, then. Either way, thanks for requesting the girls, I don't think you understand just how much I love Laswell and Valeria. Fem!reader and SFW for this one.

Valeria and Laswell Comforting a Jealous Reader

Valeria: She knows she’s gorgeous, that there’s just something about her that draws in more women than men, so it wasn’t a surprise that some girl would waltz up to her to try being with Las Almas’ most wanted for a single night. Although she could likely buy the world if she wanted to, there’s nothing she could want more than your presence and adoration. The girl was aesthetically pleasing to look at, that much was true, but Valeria had eyes for you only. It wouldn’t take long for her to notice the daggers you’re glaring at her. Oh, this was going to be something neither of you would ever hear the end of. This was the city of souls, and if that girl won’t back off soon enough then she’ll be another one roaming these streets forever. Dogs wouldn’t bark at Valeria, putting their tails between their legs and running away, even those awful strays had more common sense than whatever pathetic creature sat next to her. In a way that only she can, with a mocking voice and those eyes of faux sympathy, she’d tell her to fuck off immediately before she makes sure death would be a luxury to her.

It was at home that you could finally talk about that disgusting creature with words that couldn’t nearly describe the way you felt about her. Valeria agreed with you, people should have more intelligence than that. But even that wasn’t enough to get you out of your bad mood.

The doors were closed, and no one but the two of you would bear witness to a softer side of her. Yes, Valeria is still somewhat stern when she speaks, but she won’t tease you this time, being flattered instead that you love her so dearly that you get jealous over a small scenario like that. It shows her that you genuinely want to spend time with her, no matter how many people there are in Las Almas. It starts off with her telling you that you should know she loves you only, a rather sentimental thing for her to say. You should look at her while she speaks, though, or else she will make you. If she has to, she will put your face in both of her hands and force you to look at her. There are many reasons she really shouldn’t be with you, and she will list them: She’s running a cartel, she’s hunted by the government and the military, you will be persecuted alongside her eventually, if you aren’t already. And yet, despite all that, she actively chose to be with you. And she’ll be damned if she won’t do everything she can to keep you by her side, to try and make a safer haven somewhere with and for you. Don’t you ever doubt her love and affection for you, she will show you just how much she adores you above all else. It’s a rare treat she isn’t always able to get, but that night and the following day she’ll do whatever she can to spend her time with you and make sure you know just how much you mean to her. You will spend the day however you wish, so if you wanna go out for a picnic, you can. But staying at home and cuddling her, a privilege only you have, is just as good.

Laswell: In all honesty, she’d never have thought she’d be hit on. She’s an older woman, society doesn’t think too highly of them anymore. It doesn’t get to her in the slightest, but having a younger girl flirt with her seemed just a bit surprising. After all, she had the loveliest wife and that was you. Her wedding ring was on her hand, it wasn’t even hidden underneath a glove or anything. It was on the ring finger of her left hand. Was that girl just stupid or malicious? For a very short moment, she’d be speechless, but once she’s certain to never attribute to malice what can be attributed to incompetence, flashing her ring a few times, she grows annoyed. It’s nice to know younger people still think of her as hot, but it’s really only your opinion that counts to her and she couldn’t care less about the girl. Once she sees the way you look at her, she tries to kindly tell the girl she’s married. There was no need to make a scene, after all. But if that wasn’t enough to get her to go away, Kate won’t be afraid to be more blunt. Her words can pierce through just about any heart if she wants them to, give her a chance to get to know someone, she can and will find ways to hurt them in a seemingly harmless conversation alone. That girl can and will go away, she’ll make sure of it. Once she finally leaves the scene, Kate will apologize to you, even if it isn’t really her fault.

But even at home, the way that girl would talk to your wife just seems to never stop nagging at you. You’re more quiet and reserved than usual, just a bit more moody as well and it shows when you snap at the noodle that had fallen from your spoon. You can try to convince Kate you’re fine, but no matter how hard you try to hide it, she’ll know you aren’t and will do what she can to cheer you up at least a little bit.

She’ll pull you aside for a drink. If you like wine, she’ll pour both of you a glass. If you don’t, she’ll make you tea or hot chocolate, any beverage she knows you like that might help you in calming down. It’s no laughing matter to her, you’re hurt and she will try her darndest to fix that. At first, she’ll try to get you to open up a bit, get you to talk about what’s bothering you and how you think she could try to help with that. She can read people like an open book, but she does value honesty and open communication. She’ll coerce you into telling her somehow, whichever way works best. But if you won’t budge? In that case she’ll calm you down first, make you feel a bit softer and then get to work. You wanna cuddle with her underneath a blanket? You just wanna watch a movie with her? Need her to tell you how much she loves you? She’ll do just about everything for you, and she will make it known. Once you’re less upset and more approachable she’ll wrap you in a hug, if you allow it. Despite not being a very huggy person herself, she will show affection in the more classic ways. There are more than enough reasons she won’t be able to make it back home in one piece. Getting kidnapped, tortured or just straight up killed. But even so, she’s going to fight the grim reaper himself if he were to show up on your doorstep. Yes, she makes sure peace finds its way in this world again, but only so you can live in the world you deserve to be in. There are so many things you are ignorant of, so many things she never tells you about, just so she can come home, beaten bloody, to you. To your smile, your voice, your shared future. She would have never married anyone she wasn’t 100% sure she wanted to spend eternity and beyond with. Some small, unknowing brat would never take you away from her, and that she vows to you. For as long as you want her to be, Kate will be yours. She hopes you will reciprocate. Let her take care of you for the time being, she’ll show you her devotion to you and you only.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell x reader #fem!reader

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bellarkeselection · 10 months

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okay jaime request 🫶 so jaime just lost his hand and he worries that the fem!reader (jaime's wife maybe? 👀) will be disgusted by that but she actually showers him in love and affection as she's happy that he came back to her? like a lot of kisses and cuddling and fluff

i'm so in love like look at him?! he's precious <33

Slight mature content in this one 18+ 😏 I honestly really enjoyed writing this one more than I have any other request for Jaime so thank you for sending this in

You're Still a Golden Knight to Me

Staring out the windows of Casterly Rock with my arms wrapped tightly around my waist out of nervousness. I hated the feeling and time of waiting for Jaime to return home from the battle between the Lannister’s and my family the Stark’s. Jaime and I were married a few months ago before the king officially rode North to ask my father to be hand of the king. We were wed in Kings Landing by King Robert himself before he died. And somehow in those short few months we became so close it felt like we had been married for as long as my sister Catelyn and Ned had been. "Oh gods please let him come home already I cannot endure anymore time terrified he might be dead." I mumbled to myself out into the quiet sea fresh air in the room until the chamber door made a noise causing me to jump slightly.

Stumbling around the bed as quiet yet quickly as possible I reached down by as much as my growing belly would allow me to so that I could grab the sword my father gave me out from underneath my bed. Ever since Jaime left I had basically been sleeping with the weapon at my bedside even though I had a whole castle army to defend me in the walls of Casterly Rock. Moving towards the door I raised the sword over my shoulder with both hands clutching the handle of the sword seeing the chamber door creak opened very slowly. "Show yourself you twat. I'm ready and armed!" I raised my voice outward holding back tears knowing it was better to show no fear.

Yet my entire conscious state was completely rattled when I heard someone call my name that was impossible for me to not recognize in a heartbeat. "Y/n...Y/n....Jaime...please don't....it's me...it's Jaime."

"J...Jaime. Is it...is it really you?" I croaked through heavy tears struggling to keep my grip on the blade handle on the off chance it wasn't and the gods were just playing tricks on my mind. Yet sure enough the door creaked open all the way revealing a sight that nearly broke me in two and shattered my heart.

My gaze focused on his figure when he slowly stepped out of the darkness of the door and into the light being provided by burning candles. He didn’t meet my gaze while I scanned over my husband’s face. His blonde hair was covered in mud and his clothes were torn and stained too. Yet that wasn’t what nearly broke me it was the fact that his right hand was covered in some bandages but it was really just a stump of where the hand used to be. “Don’t look at me, Y/n. You should go back North.”

“I’m not going back North you idiot. Do you honestly think I would leave you while you look like this. When I have been terrified that you might not come back and now you have…come on let’s get you cleaned and changed.” Moving towards him I sniffed through tears before I turned and rummaged around in one of the crates drawing out one of his tunics and trousers.

Slowly and gently as possible I helped Jaime inside the wash room knowing that none of the servants would be up in the middle of the night so I left it to me alone to take care of my husband. Running my hands down his tunic shirt I tugged on it hearing him wince since some of it was sticking to him. Untying the strings of his trousers they fell to the floor. “You don’t have to help me I….I can’t get this cleaned on my own.” He attempted to remain the confident man I knew but he dropped his right stump hand showing me that he couldn’t.

He managed to get into the water on his own giving me the time to untie the laces on the back of my golden dress letting the fabric pool to the floor without a care. Kicking it away I put Jaime’s new clothes beside mine since I had started to wear his tunics when I went to bed. “I’m your wife, Jaime. I know you don’t want help but please let me help you now.” I mumbled quietly seeing his stump hand was still wrapped up like a rag. He didn't respond so I slowly moved the material from his arm sitting it on the side seeing that it had healed a little bit when I ran my fingers over it.

“I’m not who I used to be without my hand…I was that hand. What am I supposed to do now, Y/n?” He shutters, staring at me as I attempted to retie a cleaner cloth on his stump. “If I pass out pull me out. I don’t want to be the first Lannister to die in a bathtub.”

Lifting my gaze up from me working on his injured hand where I placed my hands on his bare chest he winced when I started running some water over the wounds on his chest. “Jaime, I know you’re avoiding ye conversation but who did this. Did my brother Robb take your hand?”

“He kept me prisoner in his camp but it wasn’t him. It was this man named Locke..who hates high born. He took it to show me I was as safe as I thought I was. And now because of him I’m not the man I was. You’ll probably leave me in the morning because of this disgusting thing.” He glared down at the stump of his right hand while I moved my fingers through his hair getting the dirt out of it where it returns to its almost normal golden lion color.

Resting my hands on his shoulders I pressed my forehead making him finally look me in the eye. His green eyes were filled with tears and I could hear the shakiness in his breath. “Jaime, don’t put those thoughts in your head. I am not going anywhere. I would never leave you ever. Because I love you…and the little one will too.” Placing his left hand on my stomach I sucked in a breath hoping he would pick it up on what I was saying.

“You’re pregnant…when did you know?” He knitted his brows together questioning me and for the first time since we had reunited I saw a tiny genuine smile on his face.

Leaning forward I kissed him on his forehead brushing away some of the fallen strands of wet blonde hair that had fallen in from of his eyes. He closed his eyes briefly when I spoke and moved his head to lay against my bare front running one hand through his hair making it a slight mess. “According to the Maester I should be about three months along. I started having morning sickness the morning after you left to go fight the war with my twin brother.”

“Do you think I’ll be a good father and husband without my sword fighting hand. I want to be the man you deserve..considering we were arranged to and all. At times I didn’t the wound be anything like your mother and father.” Jaime lifted his head up slightly where I held his face in my hands seeing slight fear and concern in his eyes that he wasn’t worthy of me now.

Without saying another word I gently crashed my lips down onto his tilting his head up slightly when I climbed up into his lap. He pressed his bare back against the tub wall wrapping his arms around my waist tugging my flesh against his own. “Jaime Lannister, you are the best husband I could ask for. I didn’t fall for you because of how good you were with a sword or how attractive you are, although you are still as handsome as the night of our wedding. But you are still that golden knight to me. I love you.”

“When I was sitting in that shit cell for months I would drift off to sleep and think of you. Think of us laying in bed together after we made love. Or when you insisted I teach you how to swing a sword. You’re smiling face…your witty remarks…your smell and when you touch me…everything about you.” He buried his face into the crook of my neck placing kisses there until he found a certain spot hearing me moan and throw my head back giving him more access.

Moving my hands to his shoulder blades I gripped them in my finger nails craving for his touch and everything in between. “Jaime I…I need you. I have been miserable for months.” I whined into his ear feeling him shift so he could start to make love to me.

“I won’t deny you, my wolf wife. But not in here. Cause once I get you in our bed we won’t be leaving for awhile.” He responds in a raspy voice shifting his green eyes onto mine intensely where I could feel his desire for me. We quickly stumbled out of the bath and into our chamber forgetting about the fresh clothes we had too focused on our need to be in the others arms.

Climbing onto the bed throwing my hair around I smiled up at him when he crawled over me crashing his lips onto mine hungrily while he put our bodies together. Gripping his golden locks in between my fingers I felt my heart beating against my chest with him moving against me like this again after so long. “Jaime….I love you.” I croaked out when he broke the kiss with his hair falling in front of his eyes and his gaze dropped to the stump once more.

“Hey, eyes on me.” Raising one of my hands I grabbed his chin forcing him to look me in the eye. Leaning upward I pressed soft kisses against his mouth moving my other hand through his hair. “You still mean everything to me. All that I care about is that you are here with me and that you’re safe.”

The eldest Lannister lion pressed his forehead against mine before he began moving our bodies against each other very slowly again as if he was afraid I might disappear from him any moment. “I just don’t want to be less of a man to you. You are my sweet wolf wife…and I’ll do my best to be a good father to our little lion or lioness.”

“I know you will, Jaime. You will always be the same man I fell in love with from this day until the end of our days.” I whispered my next words into his ear since he had his head laying on my chest. My fingers were gripping his back while I struggle to not let the entire castle know what we were doing in the middle of the night. “I am yours and you are mine.”

The bed was moving against our actions where he kept hitting the specific spot that we both moaned afterwards to. He broke the kiss where I held his face in my hands tracing his cheek with him thrusting into me slowly. “Y/n, I love you so much!” He moaned when I pulled his head downward burying my face in his neck nuzzling my nose and kissing into his skin.

Finally we both reach our high and Jaime collapsed onto his back on his side of the bed smiling longingly at me. I was laying on my back still trying to catch my breath while my hair was a tousled mess but I never dropped the huge grin on my face. “You were right about it being so much better after the first time…or it could also be the fact that I missed you like hell. Please don’t ever leave me again Jaime.” Rolling over onto my side I placed one hand on his the stump of his right hand giving him a small tearful smile.

“I don’t intend of going anywhere, little wolf. You and this baby are my home from now on.” Jaime scooted closer to me where I shifted so that his body was laying on top of mine. Running my fingers through his golden hair I planted some kisses onto his head and bare shoulder that I could reach feeling all the nervous weight fade away.

He wrapped his arms around my waist hugging me tightly against his strong form nuzzling his nose against my stomach listening for a heartbeat and he smiled when he felt something kick against his head. “I guess our little lion enjoys their daddy being home too.” I chuckled feeling the vibrating against my belly making me smile.

“If we spend our nights like this again we might end with as many children as you’re family has. If you’re up for it someday Y/n Lannister.” Jaime raises his head slightly with that cheeky smirk on his face showing me he was getting back to being his old self. He kisses my belly then he deeply kisses me on the lips laying his head back down on my stomach trying to get some much needed sleep.

Resting my head back against the pillows I intertwined one of my hands with Jaime’s left closing my eyes after watching him fall peacefully asleep on top of me. “I will never say no to you my golden lion.” I mumbled before I shut my eyes finally getting a restful night of sleep being able to hold him in my arms.

Tag list - @makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @lover-of-books-and-tea

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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pandorasfavorite · 1 year

Text

Self-pity

Summary: angst with my boy Neteyam, he keeps your relationship a secret

Notes: part two or nah?

Despite how much training Neteyam was required to do by his father he still found a way to make time for you. After becoming close as children the pair was quite literally inseparable meaning they would cry at the age of 5 if they were separated. For the longest time no one thought anything of this pair, they were great friends in everyone's eyes and not a single person questioned it. But ‘great friends’ was the farthest thing from the truth, the couple has been hiding their relationship for two years now. Well, Neteyam was, you had no issue in telling your parents or the clan that you were taken, though Neteyam insisted that you don't announce anything yet. Initially, his request hurt your feelings, and you began to be insecure thinking he was embarrassed by you, but you hid those feelings and agreed to keep it a secret for a little while longer. Surely enough Neteyam continued to be the loving and nurturing boyfriend behind closed doors, he took every precaution imaginable to make sure no one found out about you both. This included ignoring you when in public he didn't spare you a glance when you tried to approach him with that loving smile. Your heart broke every day he paid no attention to you, the days his siblings asked you to spend time with them, Neteyam would come up with an excuse for why he couldn't tag along anymore. It's been two years of pent-up anger, 730 days watching the boy you loved walk away from you in the public eye. This has been on the forefront of your mind on the two-year anniversary of your relationship, he didn't approach you once, he didn't send you a smile or a sign of acknowledgment. You thought he forgot what today was which you didn't find surprising, not one bit surprising. Every Friday 3 hours before eclipse you and Neteyam meet up at the stream to spend time together. Friday comes and you lay in your hammock not getting up to start walking, you stay there forcing yourself to not go and meet with him. You know Neteyam is probably worried about your safety and well-being but even that fact isn't enough to make you get up and face him. Eclipse comes and you still haven't moved, your legs and arms are numb but you can only think of the reasons why Neteyam doesn't want people to know about you. Maybe he has found another potential mate, he thinks you are not worthy enough to be his Tsahìk and he is embarrassed by that fact. No amount of overthinking and self-pity can get you out of daily chores though, you remove yourself from your hammock when the morning begins, your sluggish movements drawing a few fellow Navi's attention. Mo’at asks if you are feeling ok and if she needs to do a check-up on you just to ensure that you aren't sick, but you thank her for the concern and decline her offer. Another four days pass of the same behavior drawing nearly the whole clan's attention to you, they have never seen anything like this from anyone. The Sully family is showing concern, Kiri has asked if you were feeling good by pressing her palm to your cool forehead. You just nod at her continuing to weave baskets for collecting herbs, you can see Neteyam whisper something to Lo’ak before approaching you. Lo’ak squats down to get to your eye level before asking the same thing Kiri did, “are you feeling okay? People are getting worried”. You stop weaving looking at him, he grimaces seeing your red eyes and large eyebags, “whos people Lo’ak?” you say tilting your head at him in curiosity. “You know the clan, Kiri, me” you nod at him before looking down again and continuing your work, “I see. I am

okay though just bad sleep”. Lo’ak cracks his knuckles out of nervousness, he cranes his neck down trying to make eyecontact with you again, “and Neteyam, Neteyam is worried”. Your fingers stop adrupptly hearing that name, you scoff “yea right” you stand up walking away after patting Lo’ak on the back. This is the second time you’ve missed friday meet ups, sleep has struggled to come to you, eating was a struggle in its self just because of the overthinking. Saturday morning Jake Sully the leader and Toruk Makto stops you before you begin your duties, he towers over you with a look of concern and determination on his face, Neteyam is standing next to him with a even more concerned look. “You need to go to Mo’at. Theres no arguing” you turn your gaze away from Neteyam for a moment to acknowledge his father. “Why must I go?”, you say eyes brimming with tears that have tried to escape for days now, Jake crouches down looking you in the eyes while holding your arms. “We think your sick y/n. You need help”, your lip quivers as you look at who you thought was gonna be your father in law, your head drops in shame as you cry. Jake englufs you in a bone crushing hug holding your head as you sob loud enough for the village to hear. Neteyam squeezes his fists tight by the side of him trying not to cry watching the love of his life sob in pain, and theres nothing he can do to help.

Jake doesn't know why your crying as hard as you are or why his son is doing the same behind him but it's his job to make sure his people are safe, comforting you through it is something he would do a million times over again. Jake pulls back from the hug looking you in the eyes again, “can you tell me what's wrong?” he says holding your arms again and rubbing his thumbs in circles on them soothingly. You’ve forgotten that Neteyam is standing behind his father so the words tumble out of your mouth after two years of being caged up, “I'm not worthy, he is embarrassed by me because I am weak”. You say looking down at your shaking hands and the situation that you are in as proof. The gasp behind Jake is what brings your gaze back to Neteyam, Jake looks over his shoulder to evaluate the situation, and he furrows his brows at the tears running down his son's face. Jake turns back to you quickly asking you the most important question, “who is?” Jake's question is answered as soon as he notices your gaze still on Neteyams figure. Jake stands up to his full height anger spread across his face, “come on let's go to Mo’at honey” he says one hand on your back leading you to the healer's hut. He pushes you along and Jake stops by Neteyam, “go home and stay there” he grits out before continuing to walk with you. Jake is gone for roughly an hour and a half, most of that time was spent sitting in the healers up with you making sure everything was ok and then the rest of the time was spent outside pacing trying to calm down from how furious he was. When you are finally asleep and okay in the healer's hut Jake walks out telling Mo’at he will be back shortly to get you. Jake storms back to his home seeing Neteyam sitting on a tree stump crying softly with his head downcasted. “Come here boy”, Jake says to Neteyam, Neteyam stands up and walks in front of his father his head down in shame trying to silence his cries. Jake pushes Neteyams head onto his head holding his there while rubbing his son's back trying to calm him down before interrogating him. Neteyam breaks down and tells Jake everything, why he kept you a secret and how ashamed he is. Jake holds his son a little tighter hearing his son say in simpler words that he was afraid he would be banned from seeing you if he let the secret out.

#neteyam sully #neteyam #sully family #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #avatar way of water

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hyuganejiswife · 2 years

Text

Overload | Megumi Fushiguro X GNReader

Masterlist

| REQUESTED, sensory overload, overstimulated, partner could be on the spectrum or just have sensory issues, panic, angst, fluff

Word Count: 613

Note: I’m sorry if this isn’t accurate, I’m writing the overstim part based on my own experiences. I get overstimulated by sounds pretty easily, and I’ve had to step away from doing my job at a previous job from nearly having a panic attack due to it. So I’m drawing from that. As far as I know, I’m not on the spectrum. Also, do not take anything I write as a generalization. Everyone who is affected by overstimulation experiences these things differently. I also do not have a service animal so my deep pressure explanation may not be accurate. I have a dog who loves to lay on me when I’m anxious, but she’s not trained for that and it’s my only experience.

You wanted to shrink away from the world. There was far too much going on all at once. Everyone was branched off in their own conversations. The TV was on, playing some movie that your friends and classmates had all but forgotten, and there was music playing from a speaker in the corner of the room because Yuji wanted to show Panda one of the songs he liked.

You could hear the faint sounds of some video game coming from Toge’s phone and it was driving you insane. You felt like you were being overloaded. Your mind couldn’t process everything that was happening. You could hear everything and nothing at all, all at once.

You stand and leave the room abruptly, half of your friends barely even noticing. Before Maki has even had a chance to stand from her seat, Megumi has made his way out after you, already summoning one of his hounds for you.

It was like he already knew what was wrong. And in fact, maybe he did. He’d been observing you quietly since you started to become more reserved about halfway through the evening. He knew it was only a matter of time before you were far too overstimulated, but he knew better than to ask you to leave or to even insist that you needed to go back to your dorm. He did that once and it led to an argument about you knowing your own limits. Still, it never makes him feel any better to watch you suffer in silence until you’ve decided you had enough.

As he pushes your door open, the demon dog slips past him and makes its home on your bed with you, laying its rather large head over your chest. Your eyes are closed and Megumi decides against saying anything, instead letting you have a moment to decompress and to decide when you are ready to hear his voice. He chooses instead to close and lock your door to prevent an intrusion, afterwards walking around and unplugging any electronics that may cause any type of noise. Once he’s done with that, he sits on the floor against your bed and waits, listening to the sounds of your sniffles filling the room as you start to come down.

A smile reaches his face when your hand finds his hair and he hears a small “thank you” leave your lips. He turns to look up at you, humming and tilting his head. “How are you feeling?” He whispers, still very careful not to be too loud for your sake.

“Bad.”

“That’s okay.” He waits, letting you go at your own pace as you look for the words to say. And if you chose to say none, that was okay too.

“I don’t know why it happens. And I feel bad for leaving every time. Like I’m offending someone or upsetting you and making you leave too.” You tear your gaze away from him, worried.

“I don't do anything that I don't want to do. I only go to those groups for you and because Gojo thinks it’s good for me. And when I leave, I’m relieved. You’re my favorite person. I’d rather be with you over anyone else. And forget about them, they understand, but you don’t owe them anything and certainly not an explanation or an apology. You can’t help it. That’s okay. I’m always going to be here for you, even if you only use me for my demon dogs.”

At his last remark, you find yourself laughing, fresh tears falling. This time though, your tears are filled with relief. Megumi, your wonderful partner, always knew how to make you feel better.

#bleu.writes #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi angst

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wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 6 months

Note

Hi! I see you've mentioned before you like GravesBeaks. I know you're a huge Fenro and Mads fan, and I really like your art. You seem cool and popular, and I don't want to be a bother (I'm very shy and easily intimidated), but I'd like to request a GravesBeaks drabble, maybe them decorating Mark's office for Christmas at Waddle.

Honestly, I'd be happy with any holiday cuteness and fluff if you'd be willing to write it. I'd also be interested in chatting about Mark and Falcon, if you ever want (and your AUs too, you're very creative).

I know GravesBeaks isn't a popular ship, but I do have a Discord with a few people. I'm trying to get it active again and just wanted you to know. Thanks for your time. Happy Holidays!!

Hiiiii!!!!

UAGH YES I DON'T TALK ABOUT THEM MUCH BUT GRAVESBEAKS MY BELOVED <33333 there was literally no reason for them to show up in the mad ducktor thingie other than that I just wanted to write about them. ssldkjfdsljk I really don't talk about them much but yes. I love them. they were the first characters I ever shipped in the dt fandom and the first dt fanfic I wrote (which I have not! posted) was about them. YEA AND I HAVE LIKE THREE WIPS OF THEM FOR THE ROYALTY AU and I want to draw them more but I'm too intimidated to draw Graves ssldkjfssk

anyway using this as an excuse for a royalty au snippet of them :3 (this is very much a wip) when you’ve been keeping your relationship secret for a decade it can be a lot to have someone find out

hehe. really need to cover their relationship more, hidden relationships are so fun so I had to give them that trope <3

ANYWAY ANYWAYYYYYYY holiday fluff office decorating for you <33333

“No, no, a little lower- no, that’s too far, higher! Alright… a little to the left?”

When Graves stepped into Waddle headquarters that morning he found it in a surprising state of disarray. Employees were rushing everywhere, their arms laden with various tinsel, ornaments, and lights.

It was odd to see Mark’s usual ‘chill’ office environment be transformed into pure chaos, especially this early in the morning. Usually when Graves arrived the only people there were the night security. Now it seemed like every employee Beaks had was running around the building.

Mark was in the middle of it all, laying flat out on his back on the candy desk, head hanging off the side as he gave instructions upside down. Why he was positioned like this Graves had no idea, but it certainly wasn’t hindering his ability to yell at his staff.

“No, this is all wrong!” He was conducting the hanging of a huge wreath of mistletoe, one of the employees holding it up so he could see. “This is the completely wrong place to put mistletoe, why didn’t anyone tell me how bad this is?! We need holly here- someone grab some!”

A pig in a green and red coat stepped forward, raising her hoof slightly. “Mr. Beaks, we used the last of it in the front entryway-”

“Well then get some more! What am I paying you for?!” The parrot snapped, sitting upright in a flurry. “And whose job was it to replace this desk? Why am I still sitting on a rainbow desk- this is supposed to be red white and green!”

“I’ll check on that sir!” A swan near the back of the room quickly hurried away.

That’s when Mark finally noticed Falcon, who was still looking around at the decorations in confusion. “Gravesyyyyyy! There you are! What do you think? It’s not finished yet of course, these people refuse to move fast enough, but it’s getting there!”

“It’s impressive.” The most eye catching thing in the room was the half-decorated Christmas tree, which stretched nearly twenty feet to the high ceiling. Employees on incredibly tall ladders were carefully placing each ornament in place. “I wasn’t expecting anyone here this early.”

Mark hopped off the candy desk, moving to his bodyguard. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to set everything up last night so I was hoping to get it set up before the building opened. If people would move fast enough.” He glared around meaningfully at the rushing employees.

“So… holiday decorations?” Graves was still confused as to why Mark would care so much about this.

“Yes!” The parrot exclaimed. “The Christmas tree especially. It’s all about getting that holiday buzz, you feel me? I want people to go ‘woah, have you seen the huge tree at Waddles?’ Good decorations are the easiest way to get people talking about you, and Christmas is a perfect opportunity!”

“Ah.” Of course, this was all to get attention. Everything Mark did was to get attention.

“So, what do you think?” Mark spread his arms, spinning in a circle to gesture around the room. “Like I said, it’s not done yet, but anything you’d change? Anything need more? Less? To be in a different spot?”

Falcon was no interior designer, but even half-finished, everything looked good. The colors were grouped nicely, and the different decorations spaced out well. “It looks great.”

“You’re sure?” Beaks glared at one staff member, and they quickly readjusted the tinsel they were wrapping around one of the now red and green slides.

Falcon caught hold of Mark’s hood, using it to pull him close. He leaned his head down to press his beak against Mark’s temple, preening the area. “It’s perfect, love.”

He could almost feel Mark’s blush as the trillionaire relaxed against him. “Well, thank you. I try.”

“Are you decorating the whole building like this?” Falcon asked as Mark leaned back against him, his back against the raptor’s chest. Falcon wrapped his arms around the parrot.

“Hmm, no, mostly just the public places.” Mark placed his hands over Falcon’s, which were held together against the trillionaire’s chest. “Maybe in some of the more common work areas, just to boost staff spirit, you know?”

“Got it.” Falcon hugged him tighter. “Well, as long as you don’t make me put anything up, then I’m fine with the decorations anywhere.”

“Oh, actually!” Mark stood straighter, tilting his head back to look at him. “We need the giant wreath hoisted up over the window, it’s to heavy for anyone to lift by themselves and nobody,” again he glared around pointedly, several employees ducked their heads, “can figure out how to work together to do it.”

Falcon sighed. “Mark, I just said-“

“Awh, c’mon, Gravesy!” The parrot pulled away to turn to face him, laying his hands on Falcon’s broad chest. “Just one thing, you’ve just got to pull a rope and that’s it! Please, I really need my big, strong, bf’s help with it.” He reached up, squeezing Falcon’s bicep.

The raptor sighed. “Just this,” he held up a finger to get his point across. “Nothing else.”

“You’ve got it, Gravesy!” Mark leaned up, kissing the end of Falcon’s beak. “C’mon, I’ll show you where it is.”

He pulled away, and Graves followed him. “Can I get a real kiss before I do this for you?”

Mark threw him a mischievous look over his shoulder. “How about after?”

#UAGH them <3333 #thanks for the ask!#anon ask #prettyyyyy sure I know who this is 🤨#hiiiiii <333 #mark beaks #falcon graves #gravesbeaks #ducktales #dt17 #ducktales 2017 #duckverse #wacky writes #I don’t usually do discord but I’m always down to talk here!!!!#slsldlf as much as I love the fluff of them decorating together idk if it’s anything they’d actually do #soooo now we’ve got beaks ordering people around sldlflfl #‘really cool and popular’ anon I’m 🥺🥺 tyyyy #snoopy blinking at that

18 notes · View notes

writeshite · 2 years

Note

Can I please request a follow-up to More Than A Passing Fancy, for the day after their first time sleeping together a d the date. Like y/n wakes up early and cooks both himself and Mark breakfast in marks shirt and mark hugging him from behind (just love the domestic things sometimes) they get to the hospital and just derek teasing mark with how mark kept looking at y/n even when he was doing the most mundane think, while the other's do the same to y/n teasing him about the bite marks on his neck that he so desperately tried to hide.

Sorry if this too long and confusing and if you don't feel comfortable writing it, its cool. Thank you

A Couple Of Saps

Summary:

The elevator stops to let in two other passengers, and Dr. Shepherd grins when Mark steps in. Mark’s hands are in his pockets when he bumps into your side, a happy little grin on his face; you try hard not to burst into laughter when he waggles his eyebrows. “So, you kids have fun last night?” Dr. Shepherd asks.

Pairings:

Mark Sloan x Male!Reader

Tags:

Morning After | Fluff | Flustered Mark | Coworkers Being Little Shits

Words: 827

Author's Note:

I see a lot of you seem to love Mark Sloan, and what am I if not a wish granter.

You attempt to roll over when the sun hits your face but end up pulled back into a chest, Mark’s grumbling by your ear as he snuggles close. You remember last night with a happy smile, wiggling your way out of Mark’s embrace to go get breakfast going. Mark’s kitchen is well organized, and thankfully he seems to have enough for a simple breakfast; you take out the eggs, flour, and sugar and whip together some pancake batter. You hum to yourself as the first pancake is flipped over, bopping your head side to side as your humming continues.

You return to the bedroom briefly to retrieve your phone, kissing Mark’s head when you spot him spread across towards where you’d been. You set out some fairly upbeat tunes, dancing around the kitchen as you flip the pancakes, nearly shrieking when Mark’s hands come around your waist. His morning voice - an octave deeper than his regular - laughs by your ear, “Nice shirt.”

You swat him with the spatula, “Thanks, it’s one of yours.”

He kisses your cheek, humming, and his head settles into your neck; Mark remains there until the pancakes are all ready. He moves away from you to get some coffee started up; he’s drowsy, eyes closed as the kettle heats up. You come up beside him, ruffling his hair and making it fluffier than it already was. Once that’s done, you grab some maple syrup and settle with Mark at the dining table, sweeping the last night’s dishes to the side to make space as Mark brings you to sit on his lap.

You chuckle, rubbing his arm, “Aaw, my poor sweetheart,” you coo at him. He mumbles something incoherent before scarfing down a pancake; you get halfway through the breakfast when the coffee starts working for Mark. When you’re all done with breakfast, you stand to clear things; when Mark stops you, pulling you to him when you stand, he snuggles close again, plastering on some hickeys. You manage to wave him off just as you notice the time, “You can have a go at my neck later; we’re going to be late for work.”

You barely manage to get into work just as your shift starts, Mark’s shirt is tucked well into your pants, and Izzie’s side-eyes and giggles indicate this to the others well.

“So, how was McSteamy last night? Is he as good as everyone says he is?” Izzie asks.

“Yes.”

“What that’s it?” Izzie demands, “We only get a yes; where’s the thirty-page essay about the night of passion you had.”

“I’m not Meredith Izzie; you’re only getting a yes,” you told her, “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Izzie groans, but Christina steps in, “Quit whining; you can practically see it all over his neck,” she says, drawing attention to the trail of hickeys descending into the collar of your scrubs. Your hand flys to your neck, covering it with wide eyes; you fast track changing and make a mad dash out of the locker room, the other interns well on your tail. You manage to snag Dr. Bailey and wrangle away the first case she has in her hands; Dr. Shepherd watches you dash towards her just as the other interns round the corner, groaning as you wave from the closing elevator doors.

“So, you kids have fun last night?” Dr. Shepherd asks.

“Uh…yeah…” you reply, shyly glancing away as Mark does his little head tilt and smirk.

“I don’t mean to brag, but—” The sweet sound of the elevator pings, saving you from whatever Mark would’ve said, much to the amusement of Dr. Shepherd, whose grin followed you everywhere.

Mark, on the other hand, had his head elsewhere, something the other surgeons and interns around him took quick notice of; Alex, in particular, was just very grateful as it meant he needn’t be sent off to god knows where. Which meant he could tread the line between obnoxious and whatever else rather well today. As he was doing right now, alongside Burke and Derek, who were glancing at Mark with confusion - for context, Mark Sloan walked into a wall a few minutes ago when you ran by, and now he was smiling to himself as he tried to get rid of his creeping red blush. Mark turned to leave, clearing his throat; he walked off before any of them could say anything, then he walked into another wall. Mark looks up at them from his spot on the floor, Derek's smile growing wide as he points and laughs, while Burker shakes his head with a grin, and Alex snaps a photo - as a little souvenir and blackmail for later.

End Note:

Short one this time, but I hope you enjoyed it. Stay Hydrated.

#mark sloan x male reader #mark sloan x reader #grey's anatomy imagine #shiterequests

305 notes · View notes

mewsuschronicals · 5 months

Text

A Doll's Blood Pact

CW: Dark as hell, omg, this is dark. This version of the vampire is very monstrous. Its not the fluffy sweet vamp bs, Its r*pe, gore, ID erasing, arguably kidnapping, drugging, stockholm syndrome, breaking, noncon, and manipulation. Dead dove do not eat. Its thoroughly messed up. I would like to add, I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR. You have been warned.

A dark stormy night has a young woman sprinting for her life. The wolves in the night howl and bark as they nip against her heels. Some lights appear in the distance. The mud providing a loose grip as she tries to go faster, but failing. The lights are growing larger, but not fast enough. Tears prick her eyes and her legs hurt more and more. An old Victorian house comes into view.

"HELP!! PLEASE! WOLVES!" The woman screams as she gets closer to the gate protecting the garden. She barely notices when tall figure in the shadow turns around, only noticing because of the bloody red eyes. Not processing the danger, she is about to repeat her request when a wolf bites her leg, knocking her down. The woman screams in agony, tears streaming down her face.

"PLEAS-!" She screams as the shadow stays still, watching her.

"I'LL DO ANYTHING! I BEG OF YOU!" She sobs, half screaming as the wolves rip into her. Suddenly, the gate is open, the wolves are headless, and a woman with elegant long red hair, matching her blood red eyes, pallid skin crouches in front of her. The scent of roses heavy in the air, nearly suffocating the already dying woman.

"Anything? Even your very freedom?" The stranger asks with a soft and velvety voice.

"Yes! I don't want to die!" Her voice losing the strength, as blood seeps onto the ground.

The stranger dips her finger into the blood, and quickly draws a sigil in the dirt. The bites her wrist, and pours the tar that comes out onto the sigil, flowing into the crevices.

"Repeat after me. I, with this blood pact, state your full name, swear my life and name unto you, Claudia Octavia Augustine in return for my life and care."

The woman's eyes grow wide, she knows something is wrong but she can't figure out what it is. Slowly she mumbles it out, replacing her name in, as she grows sleepier. Suddenly the bloody sigil glows red and all the blood in it is gone.

"I accept this pact. Welcome home, precious doll." The stranger smiles and her eyes light up. She leans down, and opens the dolls mouth, pouring that tar blood into her mouth, forcing it closed when she tried to spit it back out.

"No, drink it all. There we go, good doll. Relax, you're home now." The blood slides down her throat like sludge, gagging with it in her mouth. Tears slide down her face. Slowly agony spreads over her body, through her veins but at its worse at all the wounds. She watched in horror as her skin stitches itself together. Its all too much to handle as she falls unconscious and is princess carried into the Victorian manor.

Waking up, the doll notices she is in a beautiful lacy slip under the heavy covers of a canopy bed. The room is covered in red and gold wallpaper, with dark mahogany accents and trim. A fireplace warms the room. Suddenly the door opens and a cart pushes through followed by Claudia with a cheery smile.

"Good morning doll! How did you sleep? It's time to get the night started!"

"Thank you for saving me. I slept well, better than I have in ages, actually. I don't remember much of anything though. Who are you? Where am I?" Overwhelmed by the happy energy, the doll replies with a cautious voice. Hearing this, Claudia's smile diminishes.

"That's, unfortunately. Well to introduce myself, I am Claudia Octavia Augustine and you are in my home, doll. The other night you swore yourself to me in exchange for saving your life. Now lets get you dressed, bathed, and fed. As much as Id love to play dress up all day, I have a schedule to keep and you need your rest." Claudia walks closer to her dolly and as she reaches for her, the woman leans away.

"Wait wait wait wait wait. Claud-"

"Master" Claudia cuts her off.

"Excuse me?" The woman replies in confusion.

"You will call me Master, as I own you."

"You do n-" the woman stops to gasp, as if she cant breath. She looks at Claudia, and her eyes are alight.

"Are you ready to listen now?" Claudia stands tall, a frown on her face, looking at her like she's scum. The girl nods her head. Letting her breathe, Claudia's eyes return to normal and she climbs into the bed, pulling the doll into her arms.

"As I was saying. I own you, dolly. Once you agreed to the blood pact, you gave me everything you are. As my doll, I will take care of you. Brush your hair, feed you, bathe you, dress you up," she pauses and whispers into her ear "and pleasure you." She leans back. "You will never have to lift a finger again, sweetheart. I just need you to be good." Claudia strokes the dolls head. "I know you're scared. That's normal. Losing your name, learning your place in the hierarchy, unsure if you'll never see anyone from your old life again? That's terrifying, but I promise that fear will fall away as you get used to being here. You will never want for anything." The red eyed woman smiles, showing off some of her teeth.

With every word being spoken, the woman turned doll grows paler. Fear runs through her veins scrambling to find a plan to escape. She takes note of the longer canine teeth and slowly she realized the red eyes are not normal, nor the black veins and arteries under her pallid skin.

"Wha- what do you mean "losing my name.?" What are you?" She asks, voice shaking.

"You're a doll. Dolls don't need names. Maybe I'll give you one if you're good. As for what I am, I am a vampire." The vampiress responds with a soft smile and absolute confidence.

The dolls mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. More tears run down her cheek, and her eyes dart around the room, from her owners face to the bed to the walls. Everything starts to grow louder and most intense. Suddenly, a hand guides her head back to look at the vampire.

"Focus on me, dolly. In, 2, 3, 4, 5. Hold, 2, 3 ,4 ,5. Out, 2, 3, 4, 5. Keep it going. Good girl." Claudia continues to walk her doll through her breathing until she calmed down. "No more talking, doll. Just relax. I have you." Tears stream down her face with the occasional sniffle. The covers are slowly pulled back, and arms slide under her legs and back, lifting her up and walking her over the bathroom, the scent of roses all but suffocating so close to her.

"Its time for a bath, I have some lovely lily scented bath salts. Just relax."

"NO NO! NO! LET GO!" The doll panics, and tries to roll out of her grasp but it only hardens. "Ow! You're hurting me! Let go!"

"Doll. I will not tolerate disobedience. If you cannot behave as you should, then you will be harshly punished. However, I am going to bath you. You get to decide if its a warm scented bath where you are pampered as the princess you are, or a cold one with a bucket in the basement, where you will stay with the," she looks away for a moment before returning to her dolls eyes, "things... down there, to think about what you did." The Claudia looks at her prey with harsh eyes full of disappointment along with a frown.

"I'll- i'll be good. Please don't hold me so tight, it hurts."

With her request, the vampire's grip loses to not hurt, but still firm.

"Good girl, manners are imperative for any doll. Now please open the door. Good doll."

Once the doll opened the door, her jaw drops at the pure size of the bathroom. The bathroom has a large double copper sink counter, the bowls below a blue marble countertop. The floor are violet hexagons and the walls are oiled mahogany. Past the sinks is a claw footed bathtub, big enough for two, and a walk in shower lined with stone behind it.

The vampire puts her doll down on a wooden stool, and turns on the water. Once its hot enough, she pours in some soap for bubbles. Claudia turns to her prized possession and pulls her to her feet.

"Stand up, dear. Now raise your arms." Terrified, her doll raises her arms and Claudia pulls off the slip and strips down herself. Claudia's body is lean with black veins running throughout, her muscles are firm, and she stands to impose confidence. She stalks toward her prey who instinctively steps back and shrinks down until her back is against the wall.

"Doll, you're beautiful." She reaches forward and trails her fingers down her arms and up her torso. Her skin smooth as silk. She brings her finger up to guide her chin to force eye contact. "Perfect for a doll. Now its time for a bath." The Claudia lifts her up and gently puts her in the bubbly water, before climbing in herself. Once in, she pulls the doll against her chest and on her lap while wrapping her arms around her and leaning against the back of the time.

The vampire sighs with contention. "Soon, once you get acclimated and fully healed, I will train you. Instill the manners a toy such as yourself needs. Until then..." She leans forward, grazing her teeth along the back of her dolls neck when she gasps. "I think you will look ravishing in the various dresses and gowns I have for you. So pretty, so delicate." The vampire sniffs in her scent as her hands roam around the dolls body. "I can't wait to unwrap you and finally get to play with you and feed off you. Are you excited dear?" She pauses, "Say "Yes, Master.""

"Yes Master." The doll whimpers out. Claudia chuckles darkly before whispering into her ear.

"Good girl. It's time to wash you. Just hold your body in the positions I put you in." She reaches over to grab a sponge and rubs some soap on it. Lifting the doll's arm, she gently rubs away the dead skin. Then under the armpits, and across her neck and shoulders to the other arm.

"Good doll. Stay still." Bringing the sponge back, she washes down the skin. She reaches around her breasts, then to her stomach. Gently Claudia pushes her doll forward so she can wash her back.

"Stand up dear." Claudia gently guides her doll to be standing. "There is a smile on your face, princess. Are you enjoying this?" The doll's eyes widen, analyzing every aspect of the past few minutes and unsure if she was actually smiling.

"I- I can't. I- no! This isn't right!"

"Does right or wrong matter? I'm your owner, you are magically bound to me. You are allowed to enjoy this. It's okay. I promise. No one is here besides us, there is no shame. Now spread your legs, I need to wash your lower half." Claudia softly mutters into her ear.

"Master, I- I'm scared. What if I do enjoy this? I should fight you, this is weak." Claudia slowly brings the sponge to her hips, scrubbing gently, but pausing momentarily when asked the question.

"Then you're a good dolly. A doll is allowed to be fragile, allowed to be weak. It's the owners job to protect its property, after all. Ignore the fools who scream about strength. They think strength is putting up with hostilities. I am giving you a life of ease and comfort, something they would fight so hard to get. You simply have to obey. Struggling is not a moral positive, princess. It's okay to not want to keep fighting so hard like you did in your previous life. Now hush, enjoy the feeling of being pampered." Claudia resumes washing, going over her butt and over her thigh, moving between her legs, then moving over to the next thigh. Then pressing her body back down into the water.

"Sit down dear." The doll sits back in the warm water, rinsing off her body.

"Put your leg up." Claudia quickly moves to washing her leg and foot. "We need to trim your nails. Maybe after dinner. Next leg." Her doll drops her leg and raises the other.

After cleaning her legs, Claudia moves behind her possession.

"It's time to wash your hair. I'm going to gently put your head under water, just move with my arm. That's it, good dolly." Claudia slowly lowers her head under the water, before raising her back up. She grabs some shampoo and gently circles it into her scalp.

"Good dolly. One more time." She dunks her under the water, rinsing the shampoo out before once again pulling her out. Lathering the conditioner she strokes through her hair, making sure each and every piece has its layer then ties it up with a clip.

"Lean against me. There we go. You've been so good so far sweetheart. Once we get you dressed and fed I think you deserve a reward. Until then, you can ask me questions until its time to rinse out the conditioner. Thank me."

"Um, okay, thank you, Master. I guess my first question is, I thought that vampires were fiction, what is a vampire in reality?" Doll asked with submissive half turned head.

"Vampire's are a species of undead, our blood is magically animated for an immortal unlife. We are usually one of two entities a necromancer will attempt to become for immortality. A successful attempt is called a pureblood. Alternatively if they raise a fresh corpse, they will become a lesser vampire. Lesser vampires are bound to obey their necromancer. However both drink blood to survive, more accurately we need the magic of life that runs in blood. Most of the weaknesses, however are false. The sun is simply annoying and makes us decay faster. Garlic nor crosses do anything against us." Claudia explains softly, capturing the doll's attention instantly.

"What one are you, Master?"

"I'm a pureblood." Claudia smirks with a voice asking for a challenge.

"So you're quite powerful..." The doll trails off, trying to think. She leans back against her Master.

"That's right." After another minute, Claudia pushes her doll forward. "Alright time to rinse, close your eyes." She dunks her doll under the water, massaging out the conditioner. Pulling her up, she wipes off her face.

"Time to get out, toy. Ill get a towel, stay there." Claudia stands up to grab a fluffy towel. Guiding the doll up, she dries her down then wraps her in the tower. After drying herself off, she puts a hand behind her doll's back and guides her forward to a wooden and fabric divider in the corner of the room by the dresser and wardrobe.

Claudia grabs a hair dryer, a towel, and a brush. She sits her doll down on a bench and brushes her hair out gently. Starting with the bottom all the way up. She dries her hair as she slightly styles her hair. Putting it all away, she moves onto the next step.

Opening the wardrobe, Claudia pulls out a nice lacy slip, and a petticoat to go under the revealing and lacy blue and silver dress she pulls out next. From the drawers she grabs some panties and a bra along with some house shoes that were on the drawers. Claudia gently extends the dolls arms forward.

"Keep like this, my dear." Claudia pushes the bra on and snaps it closed. Putting the panties onto the floor, her doll steps into them. Then the slip and petticoat. Finally the bottom of the dress, and lastly, the top of the dress. Claudia kneels down, and silently holds out a shoe for Claudia to push her feet into. Then the next.

"No makeup for now, not that you need it. You're beautiful. Just a perfect dolly." Claudia says softly. The doll tries to stop it, but a blush runs from her ears to her neck. Claudia dresses herself in a slim dress, showing her curves off.

"Lets go get you fed." Claudia sweeps down and princess carries her down past the long wooden hallways and down the ornate stairwell and into the dining room. A fire subtly warms the room, casting a light in the tall regal room. The candles on the table set a mood overcasting the one set of dinnerware with food at the head of the table.

Claudia sets her doll down, and pulls back the throne like chair before sitting down. With a smile, she pats her leg pulling the toy onto her lap perpendicular to herself. The smell of dinner making them both salivate. The vampire reaches to the plate of steak and a spinach pasta with wine and silently cuts some steak and pierces it with the fork.

"Eventually we will train you to the point of not even chewing without command, but for now, just chew slowly."

"Yes, Master." The doll replies with a blush going down her chest.

Slowly, Claudia brings a bite of steak up to her doll's lips, watching as they open slowly, with her neck tense trying not to lean forward. Once it hits her tongue, the fat melts away inviting a fatty flavor to burst out. Perfectly tender, she slowly chews it, letting more flavor out with each bite. Moaning quietly at the perfectly made steak. Eventually, the tantalizing meat is swallowed.

Next Claudia spins some pasta onto the fork and brings it up to the doll's mouth, her eyes wide wanting more delicious food. With less self restraint, she leans forward and pulls the pasta off. The butter garlic sauce countering the slightly bitter taste of spinach and amplifying the steak.

Claudia smiles as her doll eats her food, happily moaning with the divine food. She puts the utensils down and grabs the wine, bringing the edge to her lips and slowly tips it up, taking a sip before pulling it away. Only to repeat the process, repeating reassurances of how good the toy is. How wanted and worthwhile she is.

As the last bite of steak is finished, a cart pushes through a door, carrying some tea and a slice of cheesecake.

"I hope you're a sweet to-" Claudia is cut off as she rapidly nods her head. She laughs like bells chime at the adorable reaction.

"The tea is rather fruity, I hope you enjoy."

The cheesecake is divine and rich. A raspberry sits on top of it, its burst of flavor sending the otherwise bland rich creamy flavor into an ambrosia. The tea balancing the flavors and acting as a palate cleanser to re-experience the burst of flavor. Tears roll down the doll's cheeks at all the delicious food.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your welcome dinner, princess." Claudia whispers before she kisses the tears away. "Welcome home. Now, Dolly, its time to go back to bed."

---- Non smut story ends here, actual smut is left. READ CWs IM NOT KIDDING.

Claudia carries her doll back up the stairs to the bedroom. Partly there, her smile grows to that of a predators.

"Darling, its time for your reward."

"What is it, Master? The doll asks hesitantly, before adding, "why cant I move my arms?" She asks her voice growing more fearful by the moment. "I can't move my legs, its hard to.. sp..ea..k.."

"Shhhh. Master's here." The vampire slowly lowers the doll onto the bed. Taking off piece after piece of clothing, while kissing her collar, going down as each piece is removed. The doll whines in fear and refusal, trying to move what she can.

"Just relax, doll." She strokes her hair, the scent of fear saturating the air, "this is your place, your purpose. I drugged you so you can feel like a doll while I play with you. This is a reward so I'll be focusing on your pleasure, at least at first. Just let go, get lost in pleasure, Master has you. You're okay, you're loved, you're safe, you're wanted." After a kiss, marking a spike in fear, the predator strips herself and once both are nude, she climbs on the bed, and starts kissing up her thighs, alternating. She licks and bites getting harder as she is drawing closer to her cunt.

Once close, she sinks her fangs, hearing a squeal from her prey, drinking the blood for a bit before licking the wound close, She does on the other thigh, back and forth, alternating in hickies before finally starting to go down on her. She suckles and licks at her clit while fingering her slowly, hooking her fingers against the g-spot. Soon enough the doll reaches a crescendo and the girl cums with a squeal but that's not enough, Claudia keeps sucking and licking and fingering, and soon a second orgasm shakes her doll. Then a third. Claudia finally relents, climbing up to kiss her doll once again before climbing back down to grab something out of the bottom drawer.

The doll hears a drawer open, and some shaking and clacking. When Claudia walks back into view, shes wearing a strap on with a tube of white on the side. She grabs her doll and turns her around, laying her on some pillows, so she isn't strained. Leaning forward, she kisses the side of her toy's face.

"Good girl, keep taking it, stay lost in that pleasure." Claudia lines herself up, and slowly pushes into her doll's pussy. Once fully in she pulls back and pushes in, faster and stronger. Again and again, she fucks the toy with vigor.

"Fuck you feel good, dolly. I can't believe this is all mine now." Claudia pants between each thrust.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum." she pants, "its been so long since I last fucked a doll." With a moan, Claudia cums, pressing on the plunger to squirt cum lube into the dolls pussy. She pulls out, takes off the strap, and gets her doll comfortable. Climbing up, she pulls her tear faced, pleasure filled doll into her arms. Slowly stroking her hair as both of them fall asleep. Her dolly is home safe.

Fin

7 notes · View notes

neverchecking · 11 months

Note

I wanted to check if your requests were still open or rather if your inbox was open. But since I have the green light, let's get this trainwreck happening :D (This is a lot of text and I apologise)

Her name is Tia and she's a reincarnate isekai. Maturity-wise, she's about middle 20's, but her physical and chronological ages are two wildly different numbers. She has memories of our world and of the LOZ games. She remembered her past life at the age of seven. She doesn't like her birth name. Her priority is always Link. Her moral basis is mostly "A kingdom that writes its peace in the blood of children is a kingdom that deserves to burn." Tia has since spread this belief. She also believes in learning self-defence and is a decent swordswoman. She keeps her hair long and in braids.

And she reincarnated as Flora.

(Let that sink in.)

Tia calls her past life 'visions' and plays on the whole 'prophecy runs in the family' to get people to listen to her. This allowed her to save a lot of lives during the calamity, but rather than falling protecting her, Link fell protecting other citizens. Tia had to do the whole century-long calamity thing, but since she also knew about her time powers, she managed to save the champions, the backup she ensured they had on the Beasts, and several pockets of survivors. She also managed to act as Link's travelling companion, guiding him and helping when she could. (She couldn't take full human form so she travelled with him as a fox spirit. Link nicknamed her Foxy.)

(I like to think that the gods aren't stupid enough to give Zeldas obscene amounts of power while they're still kids and growing so they either have to grow to the age of wisdom [17] or Ganon needs to be a threat to Hyrule. They still gotta earn it though. Flora turned 17 but didn't earn it until Link fell. Tia managed to unlock it a bit earlier, but she unlocked all of her power and her body nearly tore itself apart due to barely not being physically old enough to handle it, leaving scars all over her body like cracks.)

She also warned people about the Upheaval, the Demon King and prepared them for it. Hyrule walked into that particular paradox, ready and prepared. In terms of certain side-quests, Tia told people why she blocked off certain things or why she was borrowing certain items.

She also warned people about an imposter (IYKYK) and made sure she could be identifiable by wearing something green. Her imposter never wore green. And she told Link everything she could and wrote it all down for him, helping him in any way she could. She also warned him about her fate if things played out like her 'visions'. Which they did, but Link had full permission to use whatever he needed from her (IYKYK). She prepared the sages, past and future, for the long term. She always made sure to ask for help and never implied about Link being the one to face Ganon, making sure he had a choice. (She really hoped Revali would take up the mantle of Wind Sage, but knows she can't control fate and prepares for all outcomes. Tulin is still the Sage and Tia is so proud and so pissed.)

Tia does everything she can to protect Link but always gives him the choice. Link is her priority since 'none of her ancestors ever really did so.' (Tia can count on one hand how many of her ancestors she actively likes and still have fingers left over. [Rauru and Sonia don't count])

So take all of this and then throw her into Sage's Hyrule.

Watch the trainwreck.

(Meanwhile, her Hyrule is in uproar because Tia has never just vanished like this. Especially without telling her Link who she has a very deep platonic bond with.)

Here's a doll-maker pic of her in casual clothes. Because I can't draw

Thank you for letting me ramble. I just wanna share my girl.

So, first off,

I LOVE HER HFOFHF I LOVE HER

And her morals? I love them. I'm adopting them.

The whole vision bit is always so interesting to me because you can play around with it so much. And with her being reincarnated as Flora? Even better. Like this is so much better than whatever the hell Flora was doing. Saving the champions, keeping the hold on the beasts, AND GUIDING LINK AS A FOX HOFHFO

(While I do think the gods are in fact that stupid, I think they still have to earn it, hence the whole BotW/AoC thing where Flora/ Fauna had to go to the springs and stuff constantly. However, with that amount of power I can imagined that would be a lot for a single body. My own OC has issues handling her power as well, which is another thing I love playing on when it comes to OC's.)

Her explaining things is so much better. ( I do know!) And giving Link a choice in any world is always great, just butters my biscuits like- hfiofhf GIVE HIM A CHOICE- Honestly, and don't get me wrong I love Tulin to absolute bits, he's my favorite Sage, but why wasn't it Teba?...The ADULT?

Sage being faced with someone who's so involved in a choice, and saving him before anyone else??

MMMMM-

AND HER HYRULE GOING INTO MASS PANIC BC THEIR SWEETHEART IS GONE?

I'm just picturing-

Tia, to Sage: I gotta get back to bed before Link realizes I'm gone!

Her Link: Tia?

Her Link: T I A?!?!

#cinder rambles #i now have two lomls #Ava and Tia <333

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luveline · 9 months

Note

Ok Derek angst what about a non-bau gf getting jealous of his flirting with Garcia? Bc ngl if my bf did that with a girl who I hadn’t met I would be super upset and then May be his gf meets Garcia and realizes she’s a girls girl and super sweet? Idk u can take it any direction

ty for your request ♡ fem!reader

You don't want anything to do with Penelope Garcia. Honestly, you wouldn't ever meet her if you had your way, but you're level-headed enough to know that she's important to Derek. Integral to his life. It's a miracle you put off meeting her as long as you had.

At first, you genuinely thought she was Derek's mom. He always ended calls with, "Love you, mama." It was only a few weeks ago when he shook things up to say, "I love you, babygirl," did you look up from the book on your thigh to ask who it was.

"Penelope," he'd said, like he was confused. "Who'd you think?"

You shrugged noncommittal, earning yourself a hair pet and a kiss. You lay awake that night wondering if you got it wrong. You'd heard a hundred stories about her and felt reluctantly fond, but now? Your boyfriend calls other girls pet names, what do you do about that? What can you?

You ignored it. And now you have to meet her.

She doesn't seem as nefarious as you've imagined her, springing from her seat at the cafe table to hug you. "Hi! Oh my god hi! I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I've never been this happy in my life! You're so pretty!"

You wince at her arms thrown over your shoulders but reciprocate. You aren't a total bitch.

"Thank you," you say. She smells like coffee creamer and hairspray. She pulls away to beam at you, her lips painted a shiny, pretty red. "It's nice to meet you. Derek has nothing but good things to say about you."

It sounds awfully formal, like you're opening a bank account with a teller who has a shared acquaintance. Derek gives you a look. You give him a look back, mutual confusion. She may be his best friend, but you don't know her (and what you do know you're jealous of, so).

Derek takes your hand despite your off behaviour to show you off with pride, his teeth peeking from behind his lips milky white. "My two favourite girls had to meet eventually."

"I thought I'd be more jealous about coming second," Penelope says, eyes twinkling, "but I've never seen Derek so happy." Her voice turns scratchy like stretched linen. "He deserves the best, you know? And it's clear you're it. He's smitten."

"Maybe don't give up all my secrets, sweetheart," he says.

Seeing them together chills your raging envy. There's a lot of love there, clearly, but the sexual tension you pictured is fictional. "Girl code, my love,'' Penelope says with a shrug. She winks at you.

Insecurity nags at your skin like condensation on a cold window, "You've known Derek for nearly six years? Have you guys always been this close?"

"Well, mister muscles here didn't bother remembering my name for the first couple of weeks that we worked together, so he deferred to pet names. And, you know, he's him," —Penelope gestures to him as if to say, behold, drawing a startled laugh from you— "and I'm me, so. I didn't want him to stop."

"Hey, now."

Penelope shakes her head at you. "He always does this."

"If 'this' is stopping you from talking bad on yourself, babygirl, then yeah. I'll always do it."

You feel clarity break, the sweet taste of relief and the muggier lick of shame. Derek and Penelope have a special friendship. That you knew before meeting her. She's made a huge, irreplaceable impact on his life, and Derek has clearly done the same. They aren't playing work husband and wife —there are reasons for their affections that go well beyond the surface flirtation.

"I get it. Nobody ever called me anything so nice as Derek calls me," you confide. Derek's eyebrows leap up. You've never told him this; you're telling Penelope as a sort of apology, though she can't know that. "I never got asked out growing up. When he asked me on a date I thought he was trying to win a bet."

Penelope's expression flickers with relief. There and gone, quickly replaced by sympathy. "Are you kidding? You're so pretty, Derek's lucky he got to you before someone else did."

Derek kisses your cheek. His lips linger against the apple of it, your joined hands pulled instinctively to his firm torso. You might be imagining it, but Derek seems to know everything, so he probably knows the hill you've just climbed in your head. "Damn straight I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by beautiful, genius women. This is paradise for the modern man."

You flush at his touch and praise. Penelope makes a pleased squeak. "Ooh, you guys are cute! You need to let me take a photo. This'll make a great printout for your wedding."

"Penelope."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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yennasun · 2 years

Note

Helloooo!! I really love your writings, especially the angst and the boxing! Makes me remember that one boxer guy who do silly dances after hitting his opponent and got 1 shot right after.

Your drabbles and journals are so detailed and well thought that i cant get enough of them. The way you write boxing is very amazing too. Who knows, maybe I'm going to start learning anatomy just to draw MT in the way you describe him 😂

Also, do you mind if I request a drabble of.. MT getting turned into his 15 y/o self where he was still in the middle of his creator's whole insanity thing (With lots of trauma and paranoia sauce, please) while living in the same house with the color sticks? Or RGOBYP as they say it.

Or maybe

A drabble where RGOBYP finds a box of cassettes of MT's creator handling MT? Just like yours, MT's Creator likes to abuse, lock him in a room, and objectify him. While the RGOBYP watches cassette!MT gets hits over and over again by cassettes!Creator, he keeps smiling whilst crying, insisting that he does deserves it. Oh yeah, Alan is watching too. I like this one better ヽ⁠༼⁠⁰⁠o⁠⁰⁠；⁠༽⁠ノ

I'm so sorry if im very hard to understand or my request is too bad 😭😭 i like seeing MT getting wrecked hard and suffering. Hurt comfort characters really hits different.

Thank you in advance and good luck with your drawing/music journey!

Aw thank you so much! I'm always happy to know others appreciate the work I put out even if it isn't always the best.

And I think I'll do both, I start with the first and start writing the second one either later today or sometime tomorrow.

This is actually an Idea I've been playing with for awhile so I only have the gist of what I want, I'm gonna do a bit of free-form writing so here goes.

"Cmon sec, just try it!" Blue pleaded, holding a bottle of blueish liquid out at him.

"Absolutely not blue, last time I took one of you & yellows mystery potions I went through the rest of the day in slow motion!" He said as he swatted blues hand away, nearly launching the bottle to the ground.

"This one's different second, it shouldn't have any adverse effects like the last one..." Yellow interjected

"If I remeber correctly, you said those exact same words to green!" Second pointed at the pair

"Yeeaahhh we did..." the two said in unison, remembering what happened that day.

"But won't you just try it?" Blue begged again

"Not no, but HELL NO!" He yelled turning to the hallway leading to his room.

The two were left in silence for the moment.

"We'll that could've gone better..." Yellow said awkwardly

"Yeah...so how are we gonna do this?" Blue asked, knowing one of them was gonna have to be the test dummy.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Yellow asked.

"Probably the easiest way." Blue Said putting his fist in the palm of his other hand.

Yellow did the same and started the game.

"Rock...paper...sci-"

"Wait!" she was cut off by blue, who was looking into the kitchen.

She looked as well and saw "the tall fruit" going through the fridge, no doubt looking for his umpteenth drink of the day...she saw an idea flicker through blues eyes.

"I think I found our test subject..." he said diabolically

"You really think he'll agree to this? That's cute bluey" she smiled, shaking her head

"He likes alcohol doesn't he...?" Yellow picked up on the plan and sucked a breath in through her teeth

"That's low blue, real low. Even for you..."

"The alternative is one of us taking it...I don't wanna take it, do you?" He tilted his head in question.

"...good point." She said

The two entered the kitchen only to find MT nearing the hallway leading to his room.

"Hey mango!" Blue called out

He didn't answer at first and instead just kept walking.

"Hey mango, buddy! I got something for you!" He called out as the two followed him.

Not even bothering to answer or turn to them, he sped his pace up and closed his door behind him.

MT could hid on the other side of his bed as he hears the Knocks on the door behind him.

"Hey mango, cmon out we wanna show you something" he hears blue say from the other side, among others things.

"Go away just go. Away." He whispered

"So tired of this...go away you assholes..." he whispered as his voice ceased.

He hid behind his bed for a few seconds of silence and thought he was in the clear, until...

"Hey, d'ya lose something back there?" Blue said from behind him, as he'd failed to notice them enter his room.

MT yelled in surprise.

"Yeah I lost peace and quiet!" He yelled as he stood up.

"What do you need, what do you want, can I not just enjoy silence for one day?!"

"Well...me and yellow tried our hand at making some scotch. We know you like this stuff so we thought you'd wanna try" he said offering the bottle to MT.

At the mention of scotch, his whole demeanor had changed.

"Well why didn't you just say so?" He asked snatching the bottle out of his hand.

He uncorked it and brought it up to his nose.

He then took a small sip.

"Taste less like scotch and more like...blueberry. good, I hate the taste of scotch." He inspected the bottle once more

"Well, cheers." He said before downing the entire bottle.

His head drooped down slightly and he held the bottle out for blue to take, but his grip was so light that it slipped out of his jand and shattered on the floor.

"Haah...what was in that stuff..." he said through labored breaths

"What are you talking about? What's happening? Blue is that supposed to be happening?!" Yellow sputtered as her panic rose.

"No it no-shit!" He yelled as MT crumbled to the floor.

The two looked at eachother, looked down to the motionless MT and back at eachother.

Yellow breathed in deep and drew her head up, ready to yell at the top of her lungs.

"SECO-MMMPHH" she was cut off by blue placing a firm hand over her mouth.

"Shut up ypu idiot, seconds gonna fucking murder us if he sees this!" Yellow tried to pry his hand off and the two struggled until the room filled with a blue smoke.

They found the source of the smoke coming from where MT once lie, it completely engulfed leaving him invisible.

The two stood and stared in awe as blue took his hand off yellows mouth.

The smoke cleared and they saw the clothes my was wearing but they were crumpled.

"Oh no...! Did we kill him?!" Yellow began panicking

"Shit shit shit!" Blue began to panic as well.

Until they saw movement from within the heap of clothes.

Out of them stood MT...but they wouldn't have been able to tell otherwise had it not been for his color.

He was short...around the same height as purple!

The clothes that were made for a massive 6'5 frame had fallen off the now 5'7 MT.

The two got a good look at his build.

He was around purples height but was probably heavier than blue, he was small but wide. Not fat, but fit and stocky but despite that, he still held childlike features.

"What the hell...the de-ager was supposed to be mental, not physical..."

"How old do you think he is...?" Yellow asked

"If I had to guess...about 14 or 15...maybe 13." This drew a disgusted huff from yellow

"Some people get all the physical gifts, he already looks like an adult...remember how I looked when I was 14?"

"Yeah, thin as a rail...so not much has changed" Blue laughed before getting hit in the shoulder.

They turned back towards MT, who was snapping his gaze anxiously from blue to yellow.

Yellow approached first, crouching down slightly and putting a hand out.

"Hey buddy...we're not gonna hurt you. Can you talk?" She asked softly

The small figure continued looking at the two nervously.

"I don't think he can speak..." Blue Said, taking a step towards him

The second he inched closer, MT stepped back crossed his arms over his face defensively.

Blue Backed up, then the two decided it was time.

"Second!" They yelled in unison, making MT nearly jump out of his skin and leaving him shaking violently.

"Oh...bad idea..." Yellow said

"Seriously you guys could just come knock on my do- oh you dumb motherfuckers..." second said as he entered the room, rubbing his eyes once he took in the sight.

Normally second would be yelling at the two but this time he just sounded so...done.

"What'd you two do this time?" He asked with a dejected breath

The two blabbered out what happened, letting all their built up panic out in unison, making their respective explanations inaudible.

Second stared at the two in bewilderment for a second before yelling.

"Quiet both of you! What happened?"

"We de-aged MT!" They yelled in unison.

"You've gotta be shitting me..." he rubbed his eyes again.

He looked over the small stick and laughed internally at the sight.

Having to look down to meet eyes with him is the most cursed image my mind could've possibly drawn up...but here we are.

He sighed

"How old is he now?"

"14 or 15" second sputtered at the answer.

"THATS 14?! What were his parents feeding him? he looks heavier than you and twice as fit!" He pointed at blue.

"Dude...ouch!" Blue said at the quip.

Second was always better with kids than everyone else.

He got close to MT, who had his back against the wall with his shoulders perched up tight and stressed.

Once he got close enough, he knelt down in front of him.

"Hey bud, you alright...you hurt at all?" He asked in a soothing voice

Second noticed his hands shaking heavily because of all the yelling, poor kid must be so lost right now.

MT moved his mouth trying to formulate words before just shaking his head.

"Can you talk?" He shook his head again

"Can you understand me?" MT put his hand out flat and swiped side to side

"A little bit?" he nodded his head.

He probably has no idea where he is.

Second thought.

He took little MTs hand and stood up slowly.

"Follow me." He said

He led him out of the room past green and blue, took him down the hall and in the living room.

Red had been in the kitchen and the second she saw MT, wheezed and put a hand over her eyes.

"What'd you do blue?" She asked, laughing.

"Hey it wasn't just me, yellow was in on it."

'Wow, thanks blue you're a real pal..." She passed a disgruntled look to him.

In the meanwhile, second showed little MT around the house and took note at how jumpy he was at all times.

He always briefly glanced at him and the others, as if making sure they weren't going to do anything to him.

He must've hated being around large groups of people, the older version already did.

He took him to purples room and knocked.

"Come in!" He heard purples voice say.

He entered the room and found green in there as well, who was getting ready to say something until his eyes trailed to the smaller figure.

Him and purple stared in shocked silence for what felt like minutes before green pointed at MT and turned to second.

"Is that who I think it is?" He asked quietly.

Second nodded his head.

"Does it have anything to do with what yellow and blue asked us earlier?" Purple cocked a brow.

Second nodded again.

Purple got up and approached MT and he stood behind second.

Second turned to look down on him.

"They're alright...purple won't hurt you." He nudged MT.

The two stood eye to eye, right across from eachother.

It was the strangest sight, purple was so used to having to look up so far they're neck hurt.

Purple reached out and MT flinched back and shoe'd the hand away in fear.

Another strange sight, they were used to MT'S headstrong nature and intense fearlessness that made him a natural leader.

And now he wouldn't even make eye contact with purple.

Purple actually found it quite endearing that there was a time where MT was as afraid as they were.

Without thinking, they took him into a hug...he definitely seemed like he needed it.

Second watched the two embrace, MT looked like he wanted to struggle against them at first but then seemed to welcome it...

"Can he talk...I haven't heard him say anything" Green whispered

"No, I don't think he was taught yet...either that or English isn't his first language but I'm thinking the first one." He shrugged

Over the next couple of hours, purple seemed weirdly interested in spending time with little mango.

Green even asked them about it.

"When we were on his little quest for the staff, I really did feel a connection forming between us. He trusted me and I trusted him, that is, until his desire overcame that connection." Purple sighed.

"Ever since he moved in here though, he's been cold not just to you all, but to me too. I understand why he feels guilty but he doesn't need to torture himself over it, sadly he's just too stubborn to listen to me." Purple looked over to MT, who was stacking plastic cups happily.

"This is my chance to show my affection for him that he's avoided for so long...I just hope when this wears off he understands that I don't hate him...no matter how much he wants me to."

"You're a very weird individual purple, if he'd done to me what he's done to you I'd never forgive him." He stated

"Then why are you playing with him?" Purple smiled at green, who was stacking cups with MT.

"That's because this isn't the mango we know, right now he's still innocent...but I am with you on one thing, I'd like to get to know more about him. Since we already know so little about him, I think it'd be interesting."

They sat and watched MT for awhile longer until a shout echoed through the hall.

"Dinner!" Red shouted

"C'mon" purple said

"We'll eat in here, I'll grab some for the little guy."

Green and purple went out into the kitchen.

Second and blue had made steak and potatoes, a very basic but solid combination like eggs and bacon.

The two grabbed their plates and green grabbed another for MT.

Purple opened the door and MT jumped so bad he knocked the stack of cups over and snapped his gaze to them wide eyed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Purple slowed down and showed the plates they had and MT appeared to calm down.

"That was an...odd reaction." Green said slowly

"Yeah...an alarming one too...reminded me of me when my father would come home..."

Green didn't know what to say, he couldn't comfort purple just yet as they had a plate in each hand.

He approached MT slowly and set the plate down in front of him.

He didn't eat right away, instead he watched the others eat.

He fumbled around with the silverware, imitating the motion of cutting with the knife before he plunged his fork into the meat and cut a small slice off.

The very moment he put the piece in his mouth and started chewing, a tear slid down his face.

He didn't sob, shake, sniffle or even grimace. The only thing that gave it away were the tears spilling down his face, aside from that he'd looked completely normal.

Green looked at purple with a "help me" expression, but neither knew what to do.

So they let him enjoy his food in silence, neither commenting on it as MT wiped his face frequently.

Once he'd finished he went to green and wrapped his arms around him, green looked at purple, then back down at MT before returning the gesture.

After purple took the dishes to the sink, yellow came peered her head through the door.

"Hey, we're gonna go sparring you wanna come with?" She asked

"What about him?" Green gestured towards MT

"He doesn't have to do it, he can just watch."

"Alright, but someone has to keep an eye on him." He got up and went to the door, then looked at MT and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

MT got up and followed him, red had brought a basket of fruits and some blankets to lay on the grass.

They all went out to the clearing next to the creek and placed some blocks down to mark the edges of their sparring arena.

First blue and yellow went, then green and blue but green had to check out early after a bad body shot.

Second and yellow went for 3 rounds, since both were high level fighters they needed time to map out eachothers strategy.

After red and blue went, MT got up and watched arena-side.

After the two went for 4 rounds MT pointed at himself, then pointed inside the arena.

"You wanna go in?" Blue asked

MT nodded.

"Yellow, you're feather fisted right? Come in here and humor the little guy" Yellow grumbled at the jab but obliged and jumped in.

The two were given about a minute to stretch and get warmed up, MT was obviously anxious as was Yellow.

She'd sparred MT many times before and none of them had ever gone well for her, but he was younger now and less experienced.

She had to go light, she knew this.

Red range the bell and the two came out of their corners.

And yellow immediately noticed the difference in styles, gone were all his fancy angles and flashy footwork, they'd now been replaced by front-foot aggression that reminded her alot of blue even down to the slight crouch he was in.

However this crouch was different, it was deeper and he kept left arm loose but partially crossed his right hand over his face in a crab-like guard.

Another difference between blue and MT was their approach, whereas blue would stalk forward MT had a noticeable rhythm to his steps.

Despite all this, yellow found it rather easy to catch the smaller stick as he came in. Yellow had accidentally caught him hard a few times but he was surprisingly tough for being only 15.

Even more surprising was his strength, when yellow tried to tie MTs hands up at close range to stifle his punches he always was able to work his arms free and push yellow back by digging the top of his head into her chest and using his lower center of gravity to force her backwards, even if she pushed back she'd only push herself back more.

The second round she still found it easy to get him with her long punches, but she found most of them either grazing him or hitting the top of his head as most of her punches did due to his crouch and how he tucked his chin down.

But now once he worked his arms free he landed to her midsection, these punches had the power of blues body punches but he threw them fluidly and from unpredictable angles.

Once the third started, to her bewilderment, she couldn't hit him at all.

He seemed to know exactly when he punches would come before even she did.

He took everyone by surprise how easily he slipped, bobbed and blocked all her punches while simultaneously closing distance.

His steps were perfectly timed with his defense, and despite yellows best efforts he'd always get close.

At close range he'd use his shorter arms and rough style to manipulate her guard to sneak punches in.

Yellow was notoriously hard to pin down, and MT was treating her style to a roughness she wasn't even used to from blue and red. He pinned her arms back with his elbows, used his cross guard and bobbing and weaving to keep himself safe and he'd pull her arms down or push them up to sneak punches to the body.

The bell sounded to end the third and MT turned around and went back to his corner, yellow walked back noticably grimacing as she held her side.

She had to start getting rough back, otherwise she'd get hurt...

They came out for the 4th and MT was even more aggressive than the last round. Now he seemed to close distance at will but yellow let fly her combinations.

However none would hit, either meeting empty air or being pushed away by his guard.

With her offense stifled, she had to lay against the borders and cover up as MT hammered away at her sides with clubbing hooks.

He finally threw a right hand through her guard and she thought that he used his body shots to set up that punch, only he didn't. He used THAT punch to set up a terrifying left hook to the body that made her entire midsection contort like banana pudding.

She keeled over, clutching her right side and skipped out of the corner before turning and jogging away grimacing with her eyes closed.

MT chased after her, seemingly going for the finish.

He placed his foot perfectly at the end of his sprint to throw a straight left from a southpaw stance but yellow crumbled to the ground holding her side.

MTs punch went right over her and he got over ambitious, tripping and falling over yellow.

Blue jumped in.

"Stop stop that's enough." He waved the match off.

Blue carried yellow out of the arena.

"I think my ribs are broken..." She rasped out

Looking back on it, yellow had already begsn to peice together just how many layers there were to MTs strategy; he use the first few rounds to map out your punch timing and rhythm, then he'd work his footwork and defense around that rhythm.

From there he'd charge his opponent in a straight line, dodging every punch they threw along the way and cut off the arena to force them into corners.

Then he'd begin the process of grinding his opponent down with his brutal but highly technical infighting as well as his grapple tactics.

Yellow had always loved the SCIENCE of fighting, and today made it obvious to her that even at this young age MT had a PHD in violence.

"I wanna go!" Blue said excitedly

"You just want to cuz he'll stand in front of you." Purple yelled out

"Well yeah...but it also looks fun!" He said as he jumped in.

He pointed at MT

"You good?" He asked

MT nodded his head gamely and red sounded the bell.

MT clearly hadn't lost any of the steam he picked up from his session with yellow and pushed forwards, running right into blue.

He actually bumped blue with his shoulder on the way in.

The were head to head, shoulder to shoulder hitting eachother with body shots.

But MT had clearly been in this position before, as he moved his head from each of blues shoulders to make angles for more punches.

Blue had caught MT a few times clean but they didn't seem to phase him, evidenced by his continued aggression.

Now it was seconds turn to be surprised, blue was heavy and knew how to use that weight to his advantage. But MT not only used many of the same stand-up wrestling tactics blue used, but he did them better.

No one was able to hang with blue at close range, let alone overpower and overwhelm him as MT was doing. Blue was actually forced to clinch.

Once they were broken up, MT banged his fists together and got right back to work.

He reminded second of a buzzsaw, only able to move forwards cutting down everything in front of it, he looked invincible. Far from the shy, timid kid that he'd had to coax out of hiding behind him not too long ago.

As the rounds passed blue began to look more weary, he'd taken many body shots and hadn't been able to give many back.

In the 5th rounds MT looked on fire...no literally, there was steam coming off of him.

In the last 30 seconds blue leaned on MT and MT let more body shots fly before following them up with a left hook to the body followed by a left uppercut to the head, which knocked blue backwards off his feet.

Blue held his hand out once he got back up.

"Nah little man, that's enough for me..." he patted MT on the shoulder.

Green went in next and he lasted the longest out of all of them, a full 6 rounds!

At one point he got petty and hit MT in the groin, MT responded by pushing his head up his chest and headbutting green.

"Fair enough." He said in MTs ear.

Over in the clearing, purple observed intently

"His stamina is amazing...and his technique is very refined too...how long has he been doing this?" Purple asked themselves.

Purple was no stranger to being raised to fight, but they'd gotten out of that and thank goodness they did.

That being said, they could spot veteran tactics when they saw them. And they saw lots of them, very odd to see those from a 15 year old boy...

It didn't seem too far out for MT to have been groomed as a fighter for his life, his aptitude and physical traits definitely supported that theory.

Observing more, they found the dead giveaway that they'd been raised to do this.

He got stronger as he fought, and when he got hit. Purple Even saw him flash a smile as he fought here and there.

That's awfull...no wonder he's so jaded...

Second and red had no interest in sparring him, and steam rose off him more and upon closer inspection his veins and eyes glowed and dark orange.

This shocked everyone, especially purple but strangely, it made sense.

When they all battled MT he always had above average strength and toughness, he also seemed very resistant to heat as he was the only one who found the nether heat bearable.

MT submerged himself in the creek, the water bubbled from the heat and he returned holding his arms in pain.

When purple looked them over, they hadn't been burned all the way through but they'd still gotten hit pretty badly. By what, purple wasn't too sure.

They uncorked a healing potion and poured pink liquid on the affected areas, seeing MTs shoulders relax and his hands cease their shaking.

Once MT had processed what happened, he looked up at purple and smiled the brightest, most innocent smile purple had ever seen.

They smiled back gently and took MT back to the blanket the others were sitting sitting on.

Everyone else chatted away and recuperated but eventually MT had given in to his exhaustion.

As MT slept purple and the others couldn't help but noticed how live and vibrant MTs skin was, a far cry from his dull, more sickly appearance.

Evetually, they decided to head back.

Purple opted to carry MT back rather than waking him up, despite how heavy he was.

They brought him to his room and laid him in bed, sliding the blanket over him.

Before they left they snuck one last glance at him, and silently prayed he'd still be like this tomorrow.

Sadly, things wouldn't go purples way as the next morning MT walked to the kitchen rubbing his eyes. The same massive, dull colored sickly sick they were used to.

They resisted the urge to groan in frustration, but MT said something that made purple turn their head.

"Hey purple...do anything happen yesterday?" Purple turned their head to him

"No...why?" They lied

"I just...i had the weirdest dream last night."

---------------------------------------------------

I hope you weren't thinking I WASNT gonna write a fight scene, after all I modeled younger MTs style after my two favorite boxers; bennie briscoe and Joe frazier.

I decided to use more subtle hints at MTs paranoia since I avoided writing this in his perspective.

I also wanted to give MT a lil bit of comfort, I think he deserves it after all I've put him through lol.

I'm gonna do the other prompt just cuz, I'll most likely have it finished sometime tomorrow.

#alan becker #avm #animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #avm king orange #ava #avm mt #avm mango #au #usfc #avm blue #avm green #avm purple #avm yellow #avm the second coming #avm red #Drabbles

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

Don't Speak 26

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Enjoy the fucked uppery.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

When Andy stirs, you feel relief wash over you. He rolls away, slowly dragging his hand across your stomach. You quickly shield yourself with your arm as he stretches, making the bed feel even smaller. You push yourself up cautiously as he yawns, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Mm, dove,” he murmurs groggily, “morning.”

He lowers his hands and smiles as he scratches his beard. A tuft along his chin juts out and he smooths it. His other arm falls behind you and trails his fingers up the back of your shirt. You shiver but do you best to suppress it.

“Morning,” you squeak back, bending your knees to your chest, “um, I’ll…” you search the wall on the other side of him as you think, “I’ll go make some coffee.”

“Oh,” his voice gristles with disappointment, “you’re leaving me?”

“Um, well, no, I just…”

“Can I get a kiss before you go?” He asks, playing with a dimple in the fabric of your shirt.

Your brows rise high and your eyes round. A kiss? Oh, you suppose that’s normal. If he loves you and you love him.

You nod and shift reluctantly. You unfold your legs as you twist around and lean in. He closes his eyes and you peck his cheek quickly before shoving away from him. You bounce across the bed, hopping off as your lips tingle funnily.

He groans but doesn’t say anything. You scurry to the door and stop just inside the frame. You look back at him, breathless in disbelief at what you just did. You really just kissed him.

“I’ll get changed and put the coffee on,” you promise with a sheepish smile.

“Alright,” his hand drops heavily onto the mattress. Your heart sinks. It wasn’t enough. You let him down again but that’s a lot for you.

You slouch and turn away. You shuffle down the hall and dip into the guest room. You shut the door behind you as your lip quivers. You thought you were getting better but that word just sticks in your head; ‘alright’. His grim tone stamped into your mind.

You pull out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. You dress, happy to be rid of the shorts and high-cut shirt. You put on a pair of fuzzy socks as your toes throb in the chilly air. You’re nice and cozy and comfy.

As you come out into the hall, you keep from crossing it. The bathroom door is closed. Dang. You were going to brush your teeth. You’ll have to wait. Once you get the coffee going, you’re sure it’ll be free.

You take a step down the hall and nearly trip. A low, sonorous sound draws you to a stop. You’re not sure what it is at first. You almost think it’s the floor groaning under your weight. No, it’s too full to be that. It rises again, a deep rumble that makes your stomach swirl strangely.

There’s a sharp breath. Almost a hiss. Shallow pants beneath the rich groans. Your heartbeat picks up, racing as you know you should cover your ears and run away. It’s him! It’s Andy. What is he doing?

You retreat and raise your hand to knock but stop as his voice gets louder. You think better of asking if he’s okay as you realise you might be intruding. The epiphany of what he’s doing makes you feel very… ashamed. You shouldn’t be hearing this.

You spin and flit down the hall, carelessly letting your feet thump on the floor and down the stairs. Forget it, focus on what you have to do. Coffee for Andy, tea for you. You can’t let one awkward moment ruin the whole day.

Once the pot is brewing, you set the kettle over a burner and pick out a pair of mugs. You busy yourself with tiny things; straightening the dishcloth on its hook and sweeping away an errant crumb. You hear the stairs as Andy comes down, another yawn, more theatrical than before as he enters the kitchen.

You face him as the coffee machine grinds. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he stretches his neck one way than the other. He goes to the fridge and takes out the carton of oat milk. You watch him, your voice trapped inside of you. You feel as if you might just blurt out what you heard.

He faces you and places the carton next to one of the mugs. He looks at you as you stare at the floor. You rub your arm and sway on your feet.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” He asks.

You frown and shrug, “I… you don’t like it?”

“Well, I thought you might… you might want to wear something I bought you. Dr. Kemp is coming over.”

“Oh, I guess,” you tug at the bottom of your shirt and examine it, “I didn’t think…”

“You don’t have to,” he says bluntly, “it’s up to you. I just thought you’d want to look good for company.”

You blink and peer up at him, hurt. What is he saying?

“You’re always cute, dove,” he reaches to caress your cheek, “but I know you can look even better,”

He kisses your forehead and you wince. You nod and sidle away from him, folding your arms over your chest as your socks slip on the tile, “I know… I’ll go change.”

🕊️

There’s a knock at the front door. You sit forward as Andy gets up. He wears a powder blue pullover and pair of dark blue jeans.

You wear a short denim dress over a turtleneck, a few new pieces from the closet. Still, it doesn't seem good enough for Andy as he only said 'good enough' before pacing around restlessly. Now the time has come and your anxiety is about to overflow.

You wring your hands as you hear Andy open the front door. His greeting is met by Kemp's rich tone and you tug at your sleeves, waiting and watching the door. You don't know what to expect.

"There she is," Kemp smiles at you, "how are you doing, sweetheart?"

You try to return the gesture and stand. He looks around, appraising the room with a thoughtful hum. He twines his fingers together and cracks his knuckles.

"You good sitting there?" He asks as he looks at you again.

You nod and resume your seat in the armchair. Andy hovers behind the couch as Kemp nears the mantle and picks up the signed baseball there. He examines it before facing the room again.

"Andrew, why don't you sit down?"

"Wait, I, er, I forgot," Andy insists and goes to the console table near the window. He opens the draw and pulls out a familiar shape. It's your notebook, how did he get that?

"I thought this might help," Andy carries it over to Kemp and holds it out. The doctor considers it and swallows. His eyes flick up to meet the other man's and he raises his chin as his smile turns strained.

"Thanks," he slowly takes the book and pivots on his heel. He approaches you as you frown at his hand. Your lip trembles as you flutter your eyes.

"Here," he offers it, "that's yours."

You take it and thank him with a squeak, hugging it tightly to your chest. You see Andy's brow arch as he stares at the doctor. Your heart won't stop racing.

"No need for that," he says to Andy as he backs up, "all I need are you two. So please, sit."

You can tell by Andy's stunted movement's and the twitch in his jaw that he's not happy. Well you aren't either. He took your journal without asking. That's your private thoughts.

Dr. Kemp waits until Andy is sitting before he relaxes his postures, blowing out a breath as he slides his hands into his pants pockets, "so I think it's pretty obvious what we need to work on; boundaries."

Andy's nostrils flare as you stare down at the cover of your journal. Did he look inside? Did he read anything?

"Let's start with privacy. Anything we deal within individual sessions will be kept confidential. Including that," Steve angles around to face Andy as he point to you, "when we are altogether, we share what is important for the two of you to work together."

"Okay," your murmur as you lift your head, Andy grumbles.

"Andrew, apologise."

"What?" Andy snaps.

"Don't you think you owe her after you took something that doesn't belong to you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Alright, then, if all's fair, you will hand over your phone and let her have a look, won't you?" Kemp challenges.

Andy sucks in his cheeks and sighs. He looks at you and lets the tension drain from his face, "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't mean… I only… I thought it would help. I didn't look inside."

You cling to the book, "it's okay."

"Is it?" Kemp shifts towards you, "is it okay?"

You look him in the face, just for a second before letting your eyes wander to safety along the wall. You shrug.

"You can say, we're here to communicate," he coaxes, "how do you feel?"

"Erm… upset, " you admit.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod again, "I'm… mad."

"As would be expected. And do you hear Andrew's apology? Do you accept it?"

You chew your lip and glance at Andy, "I can."

"Alright, so that's a boundary set," Kemp declares, "but we're not just focusing on those. Let's think about barriers. There are some very obvious ones here. Not least of all communication."

You put your head down and listen. Andy bends one leg over the other as he leans back and rests his chin on his knuckles. You wait as Kemp walks in careless lines around the room.

"So we need to talk to each other. Let each other know how we're feeling. So let's be together," he continues, "please, come sit with Andrew."

You wince but get up. You put your notebook on the table as you pass it can sit on the cushion next to Andy, keeping space between you. Kemp comes close and looks down at you, "come in cozy."

He gestures with both hands. You sidle over as Andy does the same. He jostles you slightly as his arm brushes against yours.

"Alright, I'm sensing a divide. There's resistance here," Kemp rubs his chin, "now, I spoke with Andrew but I don't want to share anything too much, so please why don't you share why you called me here?"

Kemp waits, watching Andy, who puts his elbows on his thighs and taps his fingertips together. He peeks over at you.

"Well, you know–"

"Tell her," Kemp directs.

Andy clears his throat and angles slightly. You feel like melting against his gaze, "dove, we already talked about some of it, didn't we? When I try to be nice, you just pull away."

You listen, shoulders slumping, spirit shriveling.

"And it just feels like you take whatever you need and leave me with nothing," he carries on.

"In what way? Be specific. What is the issues here?" Kemp prompts.

"I… I don't want to embarrass her… er, you, dove, but… when I touch you, you… you act afraid and… and you never try to touch me," he sits up and gulps loudly, "I'm a touchy person. That's how I communicate."

"Good, good," Kemp praises, "that's good to vocalise your needs. And she can't give you what you need if she doesn't know, right?"

You look between them, confused. They're doing most of the talking but you don't know what to say. You don't know how to feel.

"And you," Kemp opens his hands in your direction, "What do you need?"

Your lips part, your mouth is dry, your ears are fuzzy. You have no idea what they want you to say. You're not used to asking for things, there's not much you can think of that they can give you.

"Nothing. I have more than enough," you say.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Andy assures you.

You shake your head. You really don't know what they're asking. You just want to draw and maybe even be happy.

"It's alright," Kemp leans back on his heel, "she might not know."

You rub your lips together and clutch your hands tight. It feels hot in the room. Like you could turn into a puddle.

"That means we take it slow. Figure it out. Patience for both of you. Andrew, you have to take your time showing her what you need and you," he smiles at you, "need to be patient with yourself. Explore and let yourself feel before you judge."

You furrow your brow. Kemp backs up further and hooks a thumb in his pocket, "alright, let's try something small. A nice starting point." He instructs, "hold hands."

Andy perks up and looks at you. You can't meet his gaze as you stare at the thick wool weaving of the doctor's sweater. Andy puts his hand against his leg and opens his fingers.

"Whenever you're ready," Kemp says.

You swallow and shakily raise your hand. You lay it in Andy's and he spreads his fingers so yours slip between them. He curls his grip around you, tight and warm.

"And how is that?"

"Nice," Andy answers first.

You sniff and nod, "yeah… nice."

"Alright, see. I don't want either of you to stress. This is healthy. Working together, right? Trust me, you're not the first or last couple to come to me."

"Sure," Andy squeezes your hand as if he's afraid you'll pull away.

"Hm, right, now one step further," Kemp continues, "put your arm over her shoulder."

You freeze, body locking in place. You're too afraid to protest. Therapy is hard work, Dr. Kemp said that the first day you met him. This is the only way to get better. Stop thinking about yourself, Andy is trying so hard.

Andy untwines his fingers from yours, leaning back slightly. He clears his throat and extends his arm behind you. Cautiously, he lets it rest over your shoulder. You try not to shrink down any further. He pulls you against him just slightly.

"And that? Is it good?" Kemp asks.

Andy answers the same as last time and you echo him with another stiff nod. Kemp seems pleased as he claps his hands together. He drops his arms and frames his hips.

"Okay, one last thing for today," he begins, "and Andrew, you can relax, I want her to initiate." He looks at you and your eyes meet for a brief moment, "a kiss."

"On the lips?" Andy asks, reminding you of how you chickened out and pecked his cheek earlier.

"Yes, just a small one,” Kemp encourages you.

You hesitate as you feel the tension in Andy’s body firm. Oh no, you don’t want to let him down. You reach up to rub your cheek and slowly slide forward. You lift your head and face Andy cautiously as he looks over at you.

You can’t look him in the eye. Your ears thrum loudly as your gaze falls to his lips. You feel like you’re choking on air. Just do it. Just get it over with. It’s what you have to do to make him happy and maybe if you make him happy, you might be happy too.

You lean in, awkward as you’re unsure of the angle. You hover before him, quivering with doubt. You make yourself move forward and press your lips to his, letting out a squeak as your mouths meet. You hold yourself there for as long as you can before you pull away.

You sit back and stare at your lap. Your whole body is buzzing with a mix of hot and cold. You don’t know how you feel, you just feel different.

“That was good,” Kemp says, “wasn’t it, Andrew?”

“Y-yes,” Andy rasps, “see, dove,” he puts his hand on your knee, “we’ll work on it, huh?”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #don't speak #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #series #fresh #defending jacob #steve kemp

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