#and then i went to visit him and i guess we had nothing better to do so he was like ‘please just try one episode’
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oldfashionedmorphine · 1 year ago
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Listen. I haven’t watched Ted Lasso. I do not plan on watching Ted Lasso (just not my thing). However last night I was dreaming and who should walk into my dreams but ROY KENT AND JAMIE TARTT. This is YOUR FAULT. I have ABSORBED YOUR BLORBOS THROUGH OSMOSIS
my bad
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sunny44 · 11 months ago
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Bye bye binky!!
Pairing: Lando Norris x Mom!Fem! Reader
Warnings: none I guess and English is not my first language
Summary: You and Lando are trying to get rid of your daughter’s binky.
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The Norris household was in constant motion as always. Lyla, at two years old, was a curious and energetic child, always running from one side to the other, dragging her toys and, of course, her inseparable pacifier.
For Lando and me, the mission to get her to stop using the pacifier was becoming a saga.
Lando was sitting at the kitchen table, looking pensively at a list of methods we had thought of.
“What else can we try? It seems like we’ve done everything.”
I stopped washing the dishes and sighed, looking at him.
“I think we’ve tried all the possible advice. Let’s review?” Lando picked up the list and started reading.
“First, we tried the pacifier fairy approach.”
The Pacifier Fairy
One quiet night, Lyla was getting ready for bed. I sat next to her with a storybook.
“Lyla, did you know there’s a pacifier fairy?” I said excitedly as she looked at me curiously.
“A pacifier fairy?”
“Yes,” I replied. “She visits big boys and girls and takes their pacifiers to babies who need them. In return, she leaves a special gift.”
Lyla’s eyes sparkled. “A gift?”
“That’s right. How about leaving your pacifier under the pillow tonight?”
Lyla hesitated but ended up placing the pacifier under the pillow. The next morning, she found a small new toy in place of the pacifier, but the magic didn’t last. When night came, Lyla cried for the pacifier, and Lando and I ended up giving it back to her.
The Reward Calendar
The second attempt involved a colorful calendar on the fridge. Each day Lyla went without the pacifier, she would get a star sticker. After a week, she would get a big prize.
“Lyla, look how many stars you’ve already earned!” Lando said, pointing to the calendar.
Lyla smiled proudly.
“Wow, and o get a prize?”
“Yes, if you keep it up!” I replied, excited.
But halfway through the week, Lyla had a crying fit so intense that we had to give in again, giving her the pacifier.
The Substitution
Trying a new method, we decided to buy several toys and stuffed animals to offer as new comfort items for her.
“Look, Lyla, a new teddy bear!” I said, showing the brown teddy bear.
Lyla took the teddy bear but quickly dropped it and went back to the pacifier.
“I want my binky, Mommy.”
We tried various different toys, but nothing seemed to offer the same comfort as the pacifier for Lyla.
The Gradual Approach
We decided to adopt a gradual approach.
“Let’s limit the use of the pacifier to just bedtime,” suggested Lando.
“Good idea,” I agreed. “That way, she can get used to it slowly.”
During the day, we put the pacifier away and distracted Lyla with games and activities. However, each night, the separation was met with tears and whining. Once again, we found ourselves giving the pacifier to calm her down.
The Distraction Tactic
The last attempt involved constant distractions. Whenever Lyla asked for the pacifier, we offered some fun activity.
“Let’s paint a picture, Lyla?” I suggested, holding a set of watercolors.
For a while, this worked, but Lyla soon began to insist on the pacifier, even in the middle of activities.
Lando sighed as he finished reading the list.
“None of this worked.”
I approached him, placing my hand on Lando’s shoulder.
“I think it’s time to try something new. Something that will really make Lyla want to say goodbye to the pacifier on her own.”
And that’s how we came up with the balloon idea. The hope was that by turning the farewell into a celebration, Lyla would better accept the change. With a final sigh of determination, Lando and I prepared for the final attempt.
“Tomorrow morning I’ll go out to buy donuts for breakfast, which she loves, and the balloon. Then we’ll do it,” Lando said, and I agreed, finishing organizing the kitchen so we could go to bed.
The morning sun lit up our house, and the day was perfect for a celebration. Lando and I were sitting on the floor, surrounded by toys and building blocks. Lyla was beside us, firmly holding her pacifier. We had already planned everything. I arranged the donuts on a tray so that when she let go and the pacifier was gone, she would have something she loved to eat and perhaps help her forget.
“Lyla, look!” Lando said, kneeling beside our daughter. “How about we send your binky to the sky? So it can travel around and see new places.”
Lyla looked at the balloon and then at the pacifier, holding it even tighter.
“Daddy, I like my binky.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Lando replied softly, stroking Lyla’s hair. “But you’re a big girl now. And big girls don’t need a binky, right? Besides, it’ll be so much fun to watch the balloon fly!”
Lyla hesitated, but the idea of seeing the balloon rise seemed interesting. Finally, she let go of the pacifier and allowed Lando to tie it to the balloon. Lando handed the balloon to Lyla and smiled.
“Ready to let go, Lyla?” Lyla held the balloon with both hands, her eyes fixed on it.
“Ready.”
With one last look of hesitation, she let go of the balloon. We watched as it slowly rose higher and higher into the blue sky. For a moment, everything seemed fine, but then Lyla looked like she was about to cry—we could see her lips trembling. But then Lando and I started jumping and shouting with joy.
“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” shouted Lando, raising his arms.
“You did it, Lyla! How amazing!” I shouted, clapping.
Lyla looked at her parents, surprised by their reaction. Slowly, a smile began to form on her face. She stood up and started jumping too, imitating her parents.
“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” she repeated, laughing.
We continued to jump and laugh together, our joy spreading to Lyla. Gradually, she forgot about the pacifier and focused on the fun of the moment.
After a few minutes, we stopped to catch our breath, still laughing. Lando picked Lyla up and hugged her.
“I’m so proud of you, Lyla. You are very brave.” I joined the hug, kissing Lyla’s forehead.
“You did something amazing today, sweetheart. We are very happy.”
Lyla smiled, feeling proud.
“Does this mean I’m a big girl now?”
“Yes, you are,” Lando agreed, stroking her head.
After a few minutes, we went inside to eat the donuts and celebrate that we had finally said goodbye to the pacifier.
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Bonus scene!
Landonorris instagram stories
“Bye Bye Lyla’s binky”
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nosyp · 16 days ago
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Like a Deer Caught in Headlights
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Warnings = rape/noncon, polyamorous relationship, promiscuous reader, mentions of death, mentions of self harm, starving yourself
Pairing = Dark! LADS men + mc x bratty fem! reader
Summary = You come back to the city where you've left all of your memories. But it's sad to say that the memories wanted to do more than welcome you back.
Word count = 9.4k words
A/N = Can you guess what I used as inspiration for this? *wink*
⚠️Remember pressing "Keep reading" means that you chose to read this on your own discretion, don't attack me.
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“She’s back.”
“Y/n’s back.”
“Oh my y/n.”
You surely got the whole town talking huh.
TheArchivist07 Post #001 April 13th. 7:11AM. She’s spotted at the train station, perfume still as usual. Smile still stitched with silk and sin. But don’t be fooled by the innocence in her eyes. We remember. And we saw what she left behind: the boy with bruised knuckles, the girl who never spoke again, the photo that went missing from the dorm wall. Welcome back, sweetheart. Let’s finish the story. XOXO, The Archivist
A fresh new blog for a fresh new girl. Nobody knew who was behind the infamous blog who documented your every move, but if keeping their identity anonymous is what it would cost to get news about you, everyone would take up that offer.
After all, you’re the one who decided to cause havoc and suddenly disappear. Why come back? Here to finish what you’ve started?
Pictures of you at the train station from multiple different angles pretty much spread around the whole city. Speculations started— actually, way before you even came back. People made theories that you were sent to a troubled girls camp, that you were sent to jail for underage drinking or you were finally caught by the mafia.
The story wasn’t like that at all though, or maybe it was? Who knows? Only you do.
Anyways, you disappeared 8 years ago, now everyone is out of high school and at their own jobs.
“Hey MC,” you said into the phone.
“...” you hear nothing from the other side… besides really heavy breathing. Then you hear her swallowing her saliva. “Y/n?”
“Missed me? I bet you did. Can we meet tomorrow at that famous cafe? I’ve been dying to go there and I already booked a reservation so if I don’t see you there… Anyways, see ya!” you say, hanging up the phone.
You [8:49 AM]: Oh and bring your friends too. See you~
“Is she really back?” MC breathed, staring at her phone. She’s pale white at this point, seeming like she'd just seen a ghost.
You still have some time, might as well spend it doing what you did best: create drama.
Later on that night, you’d visit the one club you’ve always loved to go to ever since you were in middle school actually. People used to call it a “whorehouse” since that was where all the hookups were stationed. You still remember it as clear as day. That was also the place where you had your first time— with a random man that you’d just met but it was spectacular nonetheless.
You just had to hope it was the same as you’d remember— or maybe even better.
Arriving at the place, the music at the party was just as loud as usual, practically beating inside your ears, and you can see a cute guy hustling between his friends on the side. He’s wearing a suit and tie with… a ring on his finger. It wasn’t just some sort of friendship ring or nothing, it had a decently sized diamond and you could’ve sworn you saw it at one of the fancy jewelry stores around town. 
So you decided to go up to him and try your luck. “Hey handsome,”
“Hey beautiful,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck. “What are you doing here~?”
“Nothing… just looking for… some fun is all.” you giggle. Then, you whisper into his ears: “Some fun with you maybe?”
“Alright, why don’t we—” you interrupt him with a rough kiss on his lips. Your tongue swirls in his mouth, trying to desperately taste him as he lightly pulls you in closer.
“Y/n?” a guy’s voice calls you out, rapidly pulling you two out of the kiss. 
“I-I’m sorry… who are…” you turn around, to be met with one of your other childhood friends— Caleb.
“Who’s that…?” the older man behind you asks.
“N-nobody… just some guy I know. Give me a second.” you drag Caleb to somewhere more quiet.
You finally let go of your tight grasp around his arm and the first words to come out of your mouth was, “Caleb what the hell?” 
“No— you what the hell? You disappeared for how many—? That’s right, 8 years ago. Now the first impression I have of you is you fucking a much much older guy. Do you even know how old he is?” his voice is scary. He’s practically screaming silently at you.
“I don’t know— I’d guess 40? But why do you care anyway? It’s not like you even cared when I disappeared.” you replied.
“Y/n. This is like your first week in the city— heck— it might even be your first day. So why are you already messing around like this? I thought for 8 years, maybe you’d have gotten better but… maybe you haven’t.” he asks.
The words hit you like a slap. Nobody back in your old city, where you were at for 8 years, dared to even talk back to you, not even try to go against you. So it’s unfortunate for you to cross paths with a guy who wasn’t even a tiny bit scared of you. Yes, you were mean back then too but not mean enough to him to make him shiver in your presence.
“Caleb, you know NOTHING about me so why are you acting like my parents? Me leaving for 8 years made you a good for nothing loser who spends time complaining rather than making something of his life?” you angrily respond.
“What the fuck?” he then angrily storms out of the club. 
TheArchivist07 Post #002 April 13th. 8:00PM. Careful y/n, you can’t be making trouble on your first day back.
You’d woken up the next day in a really really sour mood, not just because of that stupid argument with Caleb but also because you didn’t even get a chance to continue your rendezvous with the guy since he disappeared the moment you came back.
Oh! But today was the day you were supposed to meet up with MC and her supposed new friends. 
TheArchivist07 Post #003 April 14th. 7:00AM. Good morning y/n, We hope you have a better second day. Don’t start too much drama today. XOXO, The Archivist
You got up from your bed and immediately started putting on the new outfit you had just bought for yourself. A pleated, short white skirt with a matching white long-sleeved button up which all came together with a baby pink cardigan. For the accessories, you wore some small pieces of jewelry, a headband and a pair of black, mary jane shoes.
You’ve been trying different styles ever since you came back from that old city. It was a rural city that had basically zero to no shopping districts so you’d just had to rely solely on the clothes that you had already— which was much more than what the local kids had.
You had to move there because your dad got an offer to stay there for a few years and take care of one of the newer company facilities. It was honestly pretty futuristic, it’s just a bummer you weren’t really allowed to spend time there. Also, your parents said that it was a good place to “humble” you, that you had to see the reality of some people’s lives. But really, there is no humbling you.
You were a bitch: a bitch that can’t be stopped.
Enough of the backstory, you got inside the luxurious black limousine that you had missed for the longest time and took it to your next location, the cafe.
The cafe is new, and pretty much went viral. So you were excited to have two new experiences in one.
Arriving at the cafe, you could already see a huge line in front of it. People were eagerly waiting for a seat or even a chance to buy something… but all you did was just brush past them and make your way to your seat.
“Hey… y/n is it? Delighted to meet you.” the white haired guy beside you spoke up. His voice was deep, and… kind of teasing if you heard it correctly.
“Hey— yeah… are you one of MC’s friends? If so, nice to meet you too.” you say cheerfully. “By the way, where’s MC?”
“She’s a bit late so we’ll have to wait a while for her and the others,” he answers.
“Right, and I also brought one of my friends.” you say, feeling her presence coming. “This is Selina. She’s not gonna stay so this might be the only time you do talk to her.”
“Right. Good morning, Selina.” he says.
“Good—” she tries to say back.
“Yeah— you can go now. I’ll see you later at 5? At the place?” you interrupt her, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“S-sorry… yeah…” she quietly murmurs, then walks out of the cafe like nothing happened.
“Sorry if she was being annoying, she just likes to do that sometimes. Anyways, what’s your name?” you finally ask the question.
TheArchivist07 Post #004 April 14th. 9:43AM. Watch out, [Your initial] You can’t treat people like your minion… or maybe you can “I’m Sylus. What’s yours?” he answers. “I’m y/n. Nice to get uhh… acquainted with you…” you respond.
After some time, they all started to gather. There was Zayne, Rafayel, Caleb, and MC in exactly that order of where you were looking from (aka across) while you were in between Sylus and Xavier. 
“So… nice to meet you all. I hope we can all get along for the next few… days… weeks… months… or years of my stay here.” you awkwardly say.
“So, what are you getting y/n?” Rafayel asks.
“Uh— nothing really. I just… don’t feel hungry but you guys can order freely. I’m offering.” you reply.
Zayne looks up from the menu. “Have you eaten anything before this?”
You look back at him. “No… not exactly.”
He seems disappointed when he says,”Then it’s not wise for you to skip breakfast. Might do more harm than good.”
“Why should I listen to you?” the words slip out before you can stop them. Shit. You were supposed to be nice. Luckily for you, he isn’t one to be easily offended. But you can definitely see the way MC raises her eyebrows and gives you a confused look.
“I’m a doctor,” he replies.
“Y/n— just eat, please.” MC finally intercepts. “You haven’t changed much these past few years.”
TheArchivist07 Post #005 April 14th. 9:59AM. You’d better watch what you say, y/n Or else you’d might actually end up in a troubled girls camp
“I-I’m sorry…” you murmured quietly. “That your life is so fucking sad that you have to order people around.”
“...” The silence is uncomfortable. Everyone’s just waiting to see what happens rather than making the first move.
Then Zayne exhales softly through his nose before calmly setting down his menu on the table. “You done?” he asks, tone unreadable.
You open your mouth to say something but your dear friend MC cuts in. “Let it go.”
Her voice is soft but firm. That practiced kind of kindness that always feels just hinted… at something else.
“Cuz you’ll deal with it huh?” you say, resting your elbows on the table and leaning closer. “You’ve been saying that…since when? And I haven’t even changed a bit. Give up.”
The fiery-ness was always something MC adored about you. Something about the way you had no respect in the way you talked to her flipped a switch inside her. She had somehow made it her life mission to “tame” you as if a million other people didn’t try.
“Keep talking and see where you end up.” she also starts leaning towards you. “I might not be so nice.”
You can’t lie. Her words sent shivers up your spine, and sent rushes of heat to your cheeks. “F-fuck you.” Then, you leaned back onto the soft cushions. 
TheArchivist07 Post #006 April 14th. 10:03AM. The scoreboard is now 0-1 You lost this round y/n, Better catch up
You couldn’t pick a fight with them, you know why. You know your evol never managed to bloom ever since young, you were much weaker than most. Still grateful you even had an evol though, you felt bad for those poor peasants who weren’t as blessed as you so you never messed with them. 
Without even getting the chance to order, MC just ordered a bunch of food despite not knowing what you wanted. 
Frustration is bubbling to the surface now and you’re so close to blowing up on her but you decide not to. You hadn’t even realised your fingernails had started digging into the flesh of your palm until Xavier asked if you were okay.
Suddenly, MC spoke up. “She’s fine. She’s just salty about this— just like how she is with evol.” 
“Y’know… I think he asked me, not you. So shut up would you? Plus, you’re not even paying for any of this so stop ordering so much.” you spat.
She looked at you, then at the waiter, then back at you. “I am actually paying. Waiter, finish up the order and I’ll pay right now.” she says, taking out her card.
You have a very visibly disgusted facial expression plastered all over your face now and everyone can see it. Unluckily for you, you’re in the public eye so you have to be careful… because the archivist will document everything.
The drama that you didn’t cause made the whole mood sour and none of you bothered to talk even a single syllable. The atmosphere was still tense between you and Caleb, now it’s you and everyone.
It wasn’t until when you all bid farewell that MC talked to you again.
“Hey… I’m sorry for before. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you and I just can’t help but feel… infuriated that you didn’t even change for the better. You said the reason you moved was to improve yourself? So where is it?” she started.
How was she saying nothing and everything at the same time? Every part of you ached to get closer to her, and the other portion begged for you not to even entertain her.
“But that’s what you like about me… You were smiling the whole time it was happening. Don’t lie MC.” you reply, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Maybe it is… dinner at 5 later?” asked MC. 
Dinner at 5? You had already promised to go to a party with Selina at 5, what are you supposed to do now?
TheArchivist07 Post #007 April 14th. 10:47AM. So now the real question was: Who are you choosing? Your dear friend MC or Selina? Take your pick We’ll be waiting y/n
MC's POV
I watch her closely, standing there with her arms crossed with that same guarded look she always used to have. But her eyes. God, those eyes still have that spark. The spark that makes you wanna pin her down and teach her a lesson until she’s begging for you to stop. It's like nothing has changed but at the same time everything has.
She’s older, smarter, cooler. It feels like she just left me behind to pick up the pieces.
I couldn’t stand it. Every part of me wants to break through the walls she’s put up to guard herself. I can’t describe how much I want to yell at her, to tell her how messed up this whole situation is. How much it hurt when she left, how much it still hurts now. But I can't. I just stand there, waiting for her to talk.
I wanted to believe she’d changed oh so desperately. That she’d grown into someone better. But now, seeing her here again, it feels like everything is the same. She’s still her. The same girl who knows exactly how to twist the knife at the right angle to make me hurt people. But she’s also the girl I’ve always loved, the light of my life.
“Dinner at five?” I ask before I even think. It’s stupid. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe because I’m clingy. Maybe because I’m scared what will happen to her if I’m not there. Maybe I’m just trying to hold on to anything I can. But all I know is, she’s never getting away ever again.
“N-no! I-I’m very sorry for today but I already had plans with Selina.” she says.
Selina? Who the hell is she? What kind of importance does she have for you to reject my offer like this?
Questions ran through my head at the speed of a million miles per second, and yet the name still rang in my head. Who the fuck is Selina?
But nonetheless, I calm myself down and reply calmly with: “Oh okay, see you next time then.”
And we bid farewell. Curse you Selina.
TheArchivist07 Post #008 April 14th. 10:50AM. Well Selina’s got [MC Initial] fired up
Back to your POV
TheArchivist07 Post #009 April 14th. 6:13PM. Wake up sweet y/n You’re late for your plans with Selina
Holy fuck. It’s over an hour past the time you agreed to meet with Selina. Shit shit shitttt… Why didn’t your maid, Dorothy, remind you? You already told her to remind you so many times but why didn’t she?
You hurriedly put on your dress and ran into the car that had been waiting for you. Why didn’t anybody wake you up? Oh— wait— Dorothy stayed back in that small town, city, whatever you called it. 
Maybe it was your fault on your end, but at the same time it wasn’t, you just haven’t gotten used to not having assistance 24/7. 
Selina doesn’t even look up when you enter, her fingers scrolling through her phone with the occasional faint click of her nails against the screen. The lobby is empty, everyone’s already up at the venue you’d figure.
“You’re late,” she says, her voice flat, absent of any surprise. She doesn’t even bother to look at you yet.
You stop in your tracks, narrowing your eyes. “I’m late? You’re lucky that I even bothered to show up at all after your little stunt yesterday.”
Finally, she looks up at you with a blank, unreadable stare. “You’ve always had a… habit of overestimating your position, haven’t you? You can’t just trample over everyone and expect nothing to happen y’know.”
The words sting more than they should, but you don’t let it show. Not in front of her.
You sit down, placing your bag on the table, still seething. “I don’t have time for your games today, Selina. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
She shrugs before resting her hands on her side with her hands, finally giving you her full attention. “If you’re going to want to keep your ‘queen bee’ title here, then I’ll let you. But don’t expect me to fall for it again. You don’t have the luxury of making mistakes anymore.”
Her gaze is cold, cutting through you like she’s already decided what your worth is. And you hate that she’s right. Because the truth is, you did make a mistake. You did let her get the bullet this time.
“Careful,” you warn her. “You’re getting way too close to the edge of the cliff.”
Selina doesn’t flinch. Instead, she relaxes her back and a subtle smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “You always did like pretending you’re the one in control. But deep down, we both know it’s always been me.”
You hold her gaze, resisting the urge to snap. She wants a reaction. She wants you to crumble. But not today. Not now.
“Well,” you say, your voice smooth, threatening too. “If you want to keep this little game going, I suggest you remember one thing. I made you. And I can unmake you just as easily.”
You can hear her swallow the lump in her throat as she retreats back to being your silly little minion. 
“By the way, before trying to put me down, you probably shouldn’t be using an out-of-season dress. It doesn’t even look good on you. I’d suggest you take it off but really… no dress looks good on you.” you mention because how did you look better when you only had 10 seconds to change out of your pyjamas?
She looks unimpressed, and used to it. “And your hair looks like a mess. I’d rather you wear a cheap wig off of the street rather than the bundle of whatever is going on with the top of your head.”
“Yet it looks better than yours. You only talk when spoken to.” you firmly state, sending shivers up her spine.
“R-right… sorry. What could I ever do to make it up to you?” she asks you. An idea pops up in your head.
You drop the keys into Selina’s hand, giving her time to mentally prepare to do what you told her to. What did you tell her to do? 
It’s nothing serious… only a few years in jail if she doesn’t mess up too much, no? 
She twists the key, opening the door to the… art museum. It was a pretty famous exhibit of artworks made by the one and only, charming prince Rafayel. You did your research. 
When nobody was looking, you took the liberty of “borrowing” Rafayel’s keys. The one you got was to the art museum and you left the house key with him, can’t play with him too much yet. You also knew that it took exactly 7 seconds for the alarm to start ringing as soon as it detected an intruder… or she could just be caught by Thomas. It was one or the other; only fate can decide it.
Once you saw that she was out of your sight, you fled the scene and started walking in the direction of where you came from. 
“Y/n?” someone calls out your name.
Fuck.
“Yes?” you twist around to see who it is. It’s Rafayel, one of MC’s friends. You didn’t really remember him at all because you were way too busy with MC.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, confused.
“Nothing… just… I got lost. The city is so big y’know.” you mention, giving him the most innocent eyes in the world. “Actually, can you help me home? I’m scared to go by myself.”
“U-uh… sure I can,” he agrees.
The walk home was way too awkward for your liking, most of the time it was you two bathing in the silence but then there were the occasional small talk starter questions: “Soo… how was your day today?” or “What do you think of the city so far?”
Anyways, you were successful. You managed to distract him from the fact that his museum’s alarm is going crazy right now and the police have started to arrive. You know because there is a really odd amount of spam calls coming into your phone the whole time you spent with him.
“Don’t you need to go get that…?” he finally asks.
“Hm? What are you talking about?” you play dumb.
He looks at you confused, isn’t your phone the ones that have been buzzing and ringing the whole time? He replies with,”Y’know… your calls or messages? It seems urgent.”
Suddenly, you had a feeling. You were bored; you had time. God forbid a girl has hobbies. “Nothing’s more urgent than you…” you say, hands snaking up his chest to his shoulders.
“W-what? Y/n, are you okay? Do I need to call Dr Zayne?” he asks.
“Ughhh… that guy… I would much prefer it if you were the one giving me the checkup tonight.” you whine, starting to close the distance between you two. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you waited for him to reciprocate.
“Y/n, are you okay?” he asks again, still not returning your embrace.
You look up at him. “Yeah, I feel great— as I usually do.”
No words come out of his mouth for a while, then his lips crash onto yours. His lips were urgent against yours, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His hands finally settled on your waist, reluctant at first, but getting less and less slowly.
The kiss was desperate, both of you pulling each other in as if the other would disappear if you even loosened your grip a bit. Neither of you knew what the hell you were doing, but still chasing it anyway.
It tasted like heat and adrenaline and guilt. The flashing red and blue of police sirens barely visible in the far-off skyline, the chaotic ringing from your phone echoing through the hallway of your apartment… none of it mattered in that moment.
It was just you… and him… and the secret between your teeth.
When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless.
“Wow,” Rafayel mutters, almost to himself. “I… I didn’t think you actually…”
“You think too much,” you whisper, brushing your lips against the edge of his jaw. “That’s your problem.”
But inside, you’re already calculating.
Because while he’s melting in your hands, you know what he doesn’t. Because that museum of his?
It’s either been wiped empty by Selina, or completely infiltrated by cops.
And the real show hasn’t even started yet.
TheArchivist07 Post #010 April 14th. 7.02PM. R clearly doesn’t know who he’s dealing with
Seeing how the phone calls stopped, you’d figure it’s probably best to go back home rather than deal with the mess. 
You close the door behind you with a soft click, kicking off your heels. The silence in your apartment is almost too loud. There’s no music, people talking or fights. It’s just the soft hum of the air conditioning and your own heart still racing from… everything.
Your lips are still tingling from the kiss. Rafayel’s kiss. You never caught feelings for a guy, so why do you feel like this?
You don’t know if it was a mistake, a game, or just another distraction for you. You don't even care right now. You toss your phone onto the couch, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Then, your phone lights up with a soft ding.
MC [8.08PM]: Can we talk?
Your stomach turns. You stare at the message. It’s short. Too short. It’s either the start of something serious… or the end of something worse.
MC [8.30PM]: I’m not mad. I just need to understand. Please.
Your fingers hover over the screen, debating. Should you respond now? Or do you leave her waiting?
You sigh, head falling back against the couch. You’re tired. You’re wired. And now… MC wants to talk? Perfect.
Without even responding or replying or leaving her on read, you just go to bed, totally ignorant. 
The morning sun slices through your blackout curtains like it has a personal vendetta against you.
Your head’s pounding. Your throat’s dry. Your eyelids feel heavy.
You groan, dragging yourself off the couch. The glass of water you meant to get? Untouched. The unread texts? Still there. The questions clawing at your brain? Louder than ever.
Ding dong.
What the hell?
You blink at the door, not fully processing it. Another ring. More impatient this time. You shuffle over, still half-asleep, and pull it open with zero grace.
And there your dear friend MC is standing in front of your door, looking… annoyed. Like she hasn’t slept either or something happened.
You stare at each other in silence for what feels like an entire lifetime. 
She’s the first to speak. “I figured you wouldn’t answer if I tried to text you again.”
You rub your eyes, trying to make sense of reality. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Not until I saw you.” she replies.
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Not yet.
“I just need to know,” she says, voice much quieter now. “Do you even want to stay friends with me?”
You’re clearly shocked by the question by how you flinch back, and start thinking for a second. Do you even want her as a friend? Or just some puppet that you can summon wherever and whenever you need her to?
Nevertheless, you just say the most satisfying answer that comes to mind. “Yeah… I do. What is this about? What happened?”
“I heard you and Rafayel kissed last night… and you can’t even bother to talk to me. I’m not here to argue, I just wanted to ask why you don’t even want to talk to me.” she plops down on your couch.
“I’m sorry, okay, I didn’t mean to kiss him. Do you ahem—… like him…?” you inquire.
Quite different actually, she likes you. There’s just some things that we keep hidden to ourselves that you don’t need to know.
“No. Just wondering why you’re avoiding me— like I said.” she answers.
“Well, since you’re complaining about all this… would you like to come to a party with me next week?” you immediately regret it. But it’s her answer that shocks you even more honestly.
“Actually… Why don’t you take Zayne?” MC proposed. “He’s been tense, so he really needs to loosen up.”
You roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time and reply annoyingly, “Why don’t you wanna go? I mean he’s a good for nothing los—”
Then, she puts her hand on top of yours and squeezes tightly. Being the touch-starved you, you didn’t shove her hand away.
And, that’s how you end up bringing Zayne as your plus one for the masquerade. You had no idea how you were so easily bamboozled by MC but at the same time, she’s got you wrapped around her finger so easily that it would be weird if you didn’t take her advice.
With the assistance of Selina, you ensured that both you and Zayne were dressed perfectly for the event. You had also briefed him on what is supposed to happen in a masquerade and what he’s supposed to do. Although he said he gets it, you still feel anxious about it. I mean, what could you expect from a loser who hangs near sick patients all day— how do you know he’s not sick?
“Zayne, you don’t get it— you have to look perfect or else you’ll ruin both of our reputations in one go.” you explain to him to which he only replies with a soft hum.
“Sure… sure.” and that’s it. He didn’t even bother to look into your eyes.
You couldn’t ever express how frustrated you were but as long as it ended fine, you did great.
You were on your way home from picking up both of your outfits, then you saw a particularly familiar white-haired boy. You didn’t slow down, didn’t stop either— actually, he was the one who stepped into your path like the sidewalk was his personal runway.
“Hey,” he said, like he wasn’t the exact kind of person you didn’t want to deal with right now.
You should’ve ignored him. Should’ve rolled your eyes, kept walking.
Instead, you smiled sweetly and scanned his outfit. It wasn’t particular interesting aside from the fact that he looked like a mess— a mess you didn’t want to deal with.
“You look gross,” you said, tilting your head. “Fresh out the dump?”
He laughed at your words—because of course he did. He wasn’t the type to get offended. He was the type to enjoy it.
“Aw, is that your way of saying you missed me?” he asked, eyes flicking down to the bags in your hands. “New outfits? You buying stuff to impress me?”
You scoffed. “You think anyone would shop with you in mind?”
“Just calling it like I see it,” he said, stepping a little closer, too close. “Besides… I think it’s cute. You pretending not to like me and all.”
You leaned in just slightly and got closer to his ear. “I’m not pretending.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, smile sharpening. “We’ll see.”
And the worst part? The absolute worst part is that you let him walk beside you for the next block.
He wasn’t super annoying but annoying enough to make you have to sigh ten times in a second.
“Shouldn’t you be going now? Maybe getting a life— oh wait! You don’t have one.” you finally say.
He looks amused, he was expecting that from you. “As usual, you have no filter.”
“Ugh whatever, just get far away from me.” you say, giving him a disgusted look.
He chuckles lightly. “Okay okay, see you around y/n.” he says, waving goodbye at you as he walks away.
You don’t wave back. “Finally that bitch is gone” you murmur to yourself, picking the bags back up to start walking again. Selina’s already on the venue’s decoration duty so you had to take care of yourself this time. Oh how it sucks to be independent.
The limousine had stopped in front of the grand venue, only the low hum of its engine mixing with the chatter outside. People were flocked outside the door, waiting for you to come out to pounce at you with questions.
“Are you ready?” Zayne extends his hand out to you and you take it, going out of the limousine.
Flashes of cameras flood your vision, but Zayne’s there to guide your way. He swore he was so close to using his evol to cataclysm everyone on site from the way he was death staring everyone.
One part of the crowd was cheering stuff like:
“AAHHH Y/N L/N LOOK HERE!!” 
“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S YOU!!”“YOU LOOK FANTASTIC!”
“WHO’S THE HANDSOME GUY?!?!”
“I’M A BIG FAN!! PLEASE AUTOGRAPH”
While the other part of the crowd could be like:
“Y/n, do you mind answering a few questions about politics?”“What is your opinion on the archivist?”
“Why did you disappear for so long?”
“What happened when you disappeared?”
“What are your plans for the future?”
TheArchivist07 Post #011 April 22nd. 7:35PM. Y/n’s got the crowd excited After all, what do you expect from a queen bee's return?
They’re all similarly just looking for their turn to get their biggest scoop on you, but you don’t allow it. They have to earn it, and it’s not by shoving a camera into your face when you’re vulnerable.
Making your way into the safety of the venue, you put on the mask and started greeting everyone… with Zayne on the side just following around but did occasionally greet them too.
“Ooh, who is this handsome guy?” a woman teases. “Mind if I have a turn with him?”
Her tone is clearly joking, and you can tell she’s an older woman just looking for some fun so you don’t take offense.
“For all I care, go ahead.” you reply… jokingly? But you can’t help but feel conflicted about your relationship with him. You really thought you had no feelings for him, but something formed during the time you spent together preparing. 
Like that time you asked him to zip up your dress when you brought him dress shopping. And when you almost tripped, he caught you right on time. You don’t know if it was just admiration or romantic feelings but you definitely had something for him, even if it was platonic.
Sad that he doesn’t think the same way.
At the same time, no matter how hard you tried to forget, he was still there— buried in the corners of your mind, the boy you had loved for what felt like forever… right up until the moment he vanished. Why did he have to leave? Why you? Did he ever stop to think about what that did to you? Did he ever feel an ounce of regret?
But deep down, the truth gnawed at you. It was your fault. You were the one who ruined it. You were reckless. You were selfish. You were stupid.
And the worst of all? You’d do anything just to feel close to him one last time.
You spent years trying to deny it even happened. Sometimes people even felt scared that you were “talking to yourself” but you were really speaking to the ghosts of him. 
Then, after some time, it shifted to forgetting it ever happened. It worked for a while before it started to come up again; everything reminded you of him. Everytime you’d see a guy with even one simple feature that looked like him, it felt like your whole world shattered when you saw them turn around and it wasn’t him.
Then, it changed to hurting yourself in the forms of starvation, wounding yourself, and even sleep depriving yourself. Nothing ever made you feel better. You felt like you deserved nothing while he deserved everything, you just couldn’t give it to him.
Finally, your parents sent you to therapy. Out of all the methods, it probably worked the best. They were glad when they saw you improving and just kept sending you there. Your last session was 1 hour before the flight back to the city, and you’ve never bothered to find another.
Enough of the sad, boring stuff, parties are for fun. You’re supposed to be all hyped and jumping up and down, excited for the activities. You can’t sour the mood.
Zayne— being the boring man that he is— just stayed on the outskirts of the party, alone. So you took responsibility and tried to bring him to the dance floor. But it ended up with you staying with him with the bartender.
“One neat whiskey for you sir, and anything for you ma’am?” the guy behind the counter asks.
“W-what… you bought a drink? Didn’t think you were the type to even drink.” you say. “Anyways, I’ll just take water, thanks.”
“Just that?” He raises an eyebrow. “She’ll take a whiskey too then.”
You suddenly feel your heart stopping. He was super insistent to getting you a drink. “Why’d you do that?”
“You need to relieve yourself. You look stressed.” he says.
“Ugh whatever. I can do that by doing something else.” you complain, leaning on the counter.
“Then, go do it.” he responds.
He’s so boring and stoic and dull. You were hoping you could change him but he wouldn’t even comply with one of your requests, it was probably you complying with his actually.
Once the drinks arrived, you felt your heart skip a beat again. You didn’t want to drink so early into the party; You didn’t even want to drink again.
Something about drinking in front of him seemed so terrifying, like there was a gut instinct telling you not to. 
“Y/NNNNN! DRINKKK!!!!! TAKE THE SHOTT!!!” a person shouts from the crowd, and everyone turns their head towards you. 
In less than a blink of an eye, everyone’s attention was on you now. It’s not like you weren’t used to it though.
“Ugh… sorry guys, I can’t… I really really shouldn’t…” you sigh, earning a disappointed whine from the crowd.
“Oh come on y/n, just drink a bit. If anything happens, I’ll be here.” Zayne says.
You haven’t drunk around people for a long time, terrified that it would happen again. That you would lose another if you lost yourself around someone else. It was the whole reason that you never dared to get too close to someone ever again: the world practically ended when it happened to you.
“Drink y/n!” the people all cheered in unison. 
“Zayne please don’t make me do this, tell everyone to stop.” you beg him.
“Silly girl, just listen to everyone. It’ll work out just fine, trust me.” is what he replies with.
Reluctantly and apprehensively, with Zayne’s approval, you take the shot, chugging it all down in one gulp. You forgot how strong the burning feeling that followed was. After all, it had been a long time since you’ve taken shots.
For the rest of the time you spent at the party, you limited yourself to only 5 shots but you ended up drinking around… fifteen? You couldn’t remember, but Zayne was barely affected after ten of them. 
Once you decided you wanted to go home, you told Zayne and he agreed. Then, you two went out of the party to see…
“Zayne, give me your phone.” you demand of him.
“Why exa—” he stops mid sentence as soon as he sees you take the phone out of his pocket.
With a quick flash of his camera, you take a photo of the scene before you. For some odd reason, you just felt really awakened once you realised what was happening.
“Hey— what the hell!” the guy screams… then his eyes widen when he realises it's you. “W-wait… nonono, what did you just do?”
“Took a photo of you— since I’m just… ugh… such a big fan and all… I bet your girlfriend would be a big fan of this too.” you say, holding up the photo of him kissing another girl. 
“Wait.” he tries to grab your wrist before Zayne intercepts. He places himself in between you two like a barrier. 
“Z, don’t.” your tone is firm. You can do it yourself, you don’t need a stupid man to take care of you and he knows that. He silently sends the guy a death glare and then moves out of your way.
“How much?” he asks.
“Oh—! Finally you’re asking the good questions. I knew that brain of yours was more than just for sex.” you smile at him cheekily. “10k maybe?”
“Done.” said the guy, the girl pretty much long gone from the scene. 
Scanning his face, you see he’s glad. The price you set was probably pocket change for him so you did what any other sane person would do. “Actually… let’s bump it up… 100k?”
“O-one hundred k? That’s a bit of a stretch isn’t it?” he asks in a shocked tone.
It’s getting good now.
“No— not at all actually… but maybe you think your girlfriend isn’t worth 100k… Might as well tell her if you don’t value her enough to not hurt her feelings.” you reply.
“F-fuck! Fine… 100k. No more, no less.” he admits defeat.
“That’s more like it. I better get that transfer by 8 PM today or else… you know. Ta-ta~!” you bid him goodbye.
Hooking your arm around Zayne’s, you walk away with him. 
“Weren’t you a bit too rough with him, my love?” he asks.
Honestly, mentioning it now, you do kind of felt like you were a bit too hard on him. But, cheating on someone isn’t exactly a good thing either. “I-I don’t know…”
“...” he says nothing.
“Be honest, do you think I’m a whore?” you suddenly start interrogating him.
TheArchivist07 Post #012 April 22nd. 11:27PM. As the saying says, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew”, y/n
He thinks for a second, looking up at the sky as if it had the answer. “Hmm, do you sleep around a lot?” asked Zayne.
You think for a second, knowing you couldn’t say no to the question. Despite trying to stop it, you never really stopped. “M-maybe…”
“Then there’s your answer.” he states firmly, with his usual stoic calmness.
Without even realising what happened, tears just started welling up in your eyes— droplets sliding down your cheek and onto the hard, concrete pavement. 
Zayne seems visibly shocked as soon as he sees you crying. He didn’t say anything for a while, just rubbing the tears off with his thumb. To him, you looked beautiful crying— but not for this. He’d much prefer for you to be crying from pleasure rather than actual sadness.
“Z-zayne… everything hurts…” you manage to mumble in between sobs. “E-everything feels so— so— so hot… please make it stop…”
‘Did the drink I gave really work this fast?’ was what went through his mind, but you don’t know that. You never will. Using his hand, he feels your forehead for a fever. “No fever, you don’t feel hot from the outside at all.”
But on your end, you felt hot— flaming hot. You didn’t know what was happening; everything just hurt really bad. It was as if someone was burning you from the inside with a torch. 
“Can you walk?” he questions. 
“Y-yeah…” your head is spinning in circles now; there was a high-pitched ringing sound in your ear that wouldn’t stop either. 
In a panic, he slips an arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back before picking you up bridal style
“W-what are you doing…?” you breathe out, a bit startled but too much in a haze to care.
“Bringing you home,” he replies, voice low. He’s resolute, he thinks this is the only way.
The first thing he did as soon as you two arrived at his place was to put you down onto his bed… and get on top of you.
“Z-zayne… what are you doing?” you try to push him away, but he quickly grabs hold of both of your wrists.
“S-stop! Let go of me!” you scream.
He doesn't flinch. His pupils dilate and there’s a flash of something dark in his eyes… but it’s not angry. Just... intent. He’s intended for this to happen. He’s planned this to happen. It’s the inevitable now.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he murmurs. “You don’t understand what you do to me.”
You squirm beneath him, desperately trying to break free from his grasp which only tightens. There’s no malice in his expression— only a filthy, dirty obsession. Like he’s grateful you're here. Like this moment is something he’s been dreaming of. Like he’s been reciting this exact same scene in his head multiple times he could act it out to a T.
“Y’know you’re so perfect for me,” he gets closer to your neck, giving it a long wet kiss before starting to bite into the skin, leaving semi-permanent marks. You knew you were going to remember it, even if it faded away. 
“You were made for me, molded for me, shaped for me. Don’t you get it? This is fate. I know you don’t see it yet, but you will by the end of this.”
“Z-zayne… please… you don’t want to do this.” you beg him, but they just go in one ear and out the other.
“No, my love… I do want this. And you’ll want it to. I’ll make you beg for it.” he added, his voice in a dark tone. “You keep letting other men have sex with you— let me in too.”
“S-stop! Stop or I’ll tell mc!” you shriek.
He freezes in his spot, but not out of fear of being snitched… but out of disbelief. “My beloved… She helped make this happen… Wasn’t it weird when she told you to come to the party with me rather than her?”
That’s the moment it all seeps in for you. Everything that has happened with all of them just snaps into place. 
You didn’t know how long you were zoned out of it, because when you came back to reality… Zayne’s shaft was already disappearing into your body, kissing the deepest parts of your hole with every snap of his hips.
“Ugh… you’re so tight…” he mumbles in your neck, hand fondling with your tits.
Your dress was pulled from the top all the way down to your waist while your underwear was now resting at your ankles. Your bra was pushed up so high, it revealed the soft flesh that laid beneath it.
You couldn’t think anymore… you couldn’t feel anymore. The only thing that was able to process in your head was the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. It was passionate… slow… deliberate…
He wasn’t rough, he didn’t hold you as if you were going to disappear. He was loving. His touch was soft, caring to not to break you, as if you were a fragile piece of art. The rhythm he started with was gentle, letting you adjust to something more comfortable before going rougher. He knew you were still out of it, so he decided to be lenient.
If it were any other day, he can’t guarantee he would be as lenient.
TheArchivist07 Post #013 April 22nd. 8:12PM. Look out y/n,  You can’t underestimate the determination of a sex-deprived man.
“So, you couldn’t find an actual proper way to have sex with me so you decided to poison me with whatever the hell you poisoned me with… and raped me? I don’t think you reali—” you turn around on your seat… to see… your parents?
They look disappointed in you, as if you’d just done something wrong… this time, it’s super wrong. 
Slam!
The loud bang woke you up. It was just a dream… phew. You can’t describe how relieved you feel honestly. 
You let out a shaky breath, but something feels wrong. It’s all off, everything’s eerily weird. The ceiling above you isn’t yours. The faint scent in the room, the sheets, the dim lighting… none of it is familiar.
Your pulse quickens.
This isn’t your room.
You sit up abruptly, looking around in a panic. The bed you’re on is way too soft, you usually liked it a bit hard and the room was too nice, everything was quite neat compared to the mess you usually had. You’re in a whole new set of clothes too. Who the hell changed you? You don’t see your bag or your phone either. 
What the hell?
That’s when your eyes land on the phone on the nightstand. Definitely not yours. The wallpaper shows a not super blurred photo… like it was taken accidentally. But you know that phone. You’ve seen it in his hands.
Zayne.
Your breath catches.
You hesitate, then reach for the phone. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s invasive, but you can’t help yourself. Your thumb hovers, and to your surprise, the screen lights up. It’s unlocked.
Why is it unlocked?
You glance over your shoulder like someone might burst through the door, then quickly swipe through the messages. Most are boring. One’s from Sylus. Another from Xavier.
But then—
A message from a group chat named… “The y/n project.” There were practically thousands of messages sent in the group chat starting from… April 13th? Wasn’t that the day you came back?
You started reading the chats from this morning. The first one was sent from Zayne.
Zayne [6:36AM]: [Image]
Zayne [6:36AM]: She looked so peaceful sleeping. I could’ve kept her forever.
Sylus [6:37AM]: What if we just told her… maybe she wouldn’t run. But maybe I don’t want her to have a choice.
MC [6:40AM]: Bad idea… she’d run away, like the little bitch she is.
Caleb [6:42AM]: Let her run. I’d enjoy chasing her.
Rafayel [6:43AM]: We all know how this will end. She stays. She’s going to stay.
Caleb [6:44AM]: I don’t think she remembers what happened when she disappeared but we can’t let it happen again and that’s probably for the best.
Sylus [6:46AM]: Then we don’t let it happen. Do anything and everything it takes to keep her where we need her to be.
Zayne [6:48AM]: She’s already halfway there. She wants to trust us. She always does.
MC [6:49AM]: It’s cute how she thinks she still has a choice.
Xavier [6:50AM]: So when do we do it?
Then, nothing… You felt sick to your stomach. They’d been stalking and talking about you ever since you’d arrived.
Your breath hitches, fingers trembling as you place the phone back exactly where you found it. You swing your legs off the bed, trying not to make a sound.
You need to get out of here… like now. But then, why leave when things are getting good?
TheArchivist07 Post #014 April 23rd. 7:59AM. Nobody messes with a bitch and expect nothing in return What’s your move y/n?
You pick up Zayne’s phone again… and press the on record button. “Ngh~ It hurts… stop it Zayne… A-ahh…” you moan into the phone, anddd… sent.
You had no idea where Zayne even was, he could literally be anywhere in and out of the house. 
The phone flooded with texts and calls but you couldn’t bother. Seeing how messed up they were, they’d probably be better off in solitary confinement.
Speak of the devil, you look up and see the doctor. He has a breakfast-in-bed table all prepared for you in his hand and the other holding the door open. 
“Morning, sunshine,” Zayne says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze flicks to the bed, then to the phone on the table, and back to you.
You put on your most convincing smile. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” you say, voice sugary sweet, even though you're internally screaming at yourself to punch him right across the face… but oh well.
He sets the tray down gently in front of you. “Well, after everything, you deserve to be pampered a little. Rest, food, peace…” He pauses. “Safety.”
You can tell he’s watching you carefully now, like he’s trying to figure out if you know something you’re not supposed to. Which you do. Of course you do.
“Oh, I feel very safe,” you say, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a bite like nothing is wrong. Like you didn’t just find out he and everyone else have been planning to trap you in some psychotic group project.
He sits beside the bed, fingers steepled in thought. “You’re shaking.”
You glance down. Dammit. Your fingers haven’t stopped trembling since you saw that chat. You quickly tuck them under the blanket and chuckle, “Just cold.”
He leans in slightly, close enough for you to see the shift in his eyes. That softness? Gone. “You were snooping, weren’t you?”
Your breath catches again for a second. Then you smile and tilt your head. “Is that what you think?”
He doesn't answer right away. His eyes move to the phone. He saw the notifications. He knows something’s off.
“I just want what’s best for you,” he murmurs.
“Funny,” you reply. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
And just like that, the game resets. You're not just surviving anymore. You’re playing.
“Y’know… when you’re snooping, you’re not supposed to leave traces.” he says, showing you his phone screen with the voice message you sent. 
You giggle awkwardly, then you make a break for it, but Zayne moves fast, slamming the door shut with his body. His eyes don’t even blink.
“You think we didn’t know what you’d do once you saw the chat?” he says, voice low.
Footsteps echo down the hallway outside the room.
“Zayne,” a familiar voice calls. MC. “She saw it, didn’t she?”
Zayne smirks slightly, he’s full on smiling if you were to squint. “Mmhm. Just like we planned.”
The door opens behind him, and in walk Sylus and Xavier, followed by Caleb and Rafayel, all calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that feels like a trap shutting. MC is the last to enter. 
“You always think you’re the smartest in the room, Y/n,” he says, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But you read the wrong messages.”
Sylus crosses his arms, eyes switching between you and Zayne. “The real plan wasn’t in that chat. That was just… insurance. We knew you’d look.”
“Honestly, I’m impressed. That voice message? Bold move.” Xavier joins in. 
“But you know what’s bolder?” Caleb steps forward, eyes glittering. “Thinking you could play us.”
“You’re not the only one with games, sweetheart,” Rafayel says smoothly. “So go ahead. Make your next move.”
You glance at the door, then at all of them. You’re surrounded, trapped by five men who know your tells, your past, your fears. And MC, the one who started it all, standing at the center like this was her little trap and you’ve just fallen into it.
“So,” MC says, eyes dark. “Wanna tell us why you’ve been acting so rebellious, so naughty? Or should we show you what it looks like when we all want to teach you a lesson?”
TheArchivist07 Post #015 April 23rd. 8:28AM. Looks like this is gonna be a long discussion for you y/n
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motheroffeline · 1 month ago
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Slangin' Tail
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(I do not condone cheating, but this a little dream I had last night so I had to write it.)
18+ Minors DNI!!!, angst (one shot)
Many people in my life thought that Terry and I were the perfect couple. To give a little background, I had met him while jogging and he was just so... direct. Date after date I began to fall in love with him gaining what other couples call "happy weight" but really it was due to my overall lack of dopamine. You are probably wondering why I was unhappy, and it was because Terry went back to Shelby Springs even after I told him not to. Light-eyed bastard was so stubborn he let my words go out one ear through the other.
I was sad so many damn nights waiting for him to walk through my bedroom door but nothing. He wouldn't even call my ass to check in and see how I was doing so naturally I found myself losing the love I had accumulated with him. Then, in March on the 23rd, I met this upstanding guy named Dmitri Tully who I know now was one of Terry's friends he had used to see if I would cheat on him: I did. I was treated to dinner parties, movies, museum visits, and all of the sex I could ever want. Most days I wonder if Dmitri even told Terry that he really fucked me forreal but I guess it really doesn't matter now.
I remember when Dmitri chocolate self had me laid missionary on the bed where me and Terry used to have sex at. My mouth kept opening because he was fucking the living shit out of me not like Terry, but it was good. That dick of his was touching every spot I couldn't reach with my own fingers after Terry left. And even with the overwhelming pleasure Dmitri was giving me I beat myself up over it.
After that day, Terry drove up in the driveway at 6:45 P.M. and I was excited beyond belief but the expression on his face took me aback: turns out Dmitri had screenshotted all of the texts we had shared together and sent them to Terry. I mean he was in the right but at the time I remembered wanting to disappear my damn self to get away from Terry Richmond.
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"This some Bogus ass shit, Y/n." Terry gave me shit as soon as he walked in the door, but I held my ground.
"Well, you up and left so somebody had to take care of business for me. What am I gonna do Terry? After everytime you leave I'm just supposed to be a nun, huh? Well fuck that! You got a good job here but you wanna be Walker Texas ranger on some shit. Fuck you!" Anger boiled inside of me like a cauldron because Terry had ignored me for so long and I didn't even know if he was alive or dead. And with that anger came guilt because I had really cheated on my boyfriend.
Terry's eyes darkened like the sky outside, but he smoothed his hands down his face trying to maintain his composure. He was so furious with me that every word that spewed from his mouth caused me to flinch from how severe they were.
"I don't give a damn if I get stuck in another continent for 9 years you supposed to wait on me! You some type of slut? I swear to god... How long has it even been going on? I really wouldn't be surprised if it was soon after I left. You know what don't even tell me. I'm gonna show you something... When I get in that damn shower and come back out you better be in the bed you just fucked that nigga in!" Terry's eyes were bloodshot as he stormed upstairs to the bathroom.
I was stunned to be completely honest. Terry was a pretty dominant man but I had never seen this side of him come out. Like a mindless slave, I found myself getting in the bed waiting for Terry to come out of the bathroom. Whatever he wanted to do with me I would let him because even I knew that I was wrong. We were both wrong really, but I really had to go behind his back with his own friend.
The shower turned off and I let out a breath I had no idea I was even holding in. Without preamble, he walked into our shared room completely naked, no towel or nothing to hide that god-like body of his and it felt wrong for me to even be drooling over him.
"Cheat on me with a friend? That's a low blow." Terry walked over to the bed, dick swaying, and sat right in front of me. It felt like I had dry mouth because I couldn't even muster words, and I was pretty sure that they would come out as gibberish if I actually did speak but I tried anyways.
"Baby, I just wanted to know if you were okay. You didn't call me or nothing didn't even say "hey" or "good morning" or "good night" it felt like you were dead. I know how dangerous your other job is and I thought that you didn't make it. Dmitri was a mistake, okay? Nobody can do me like you and no one knows me like you, so it was really all a fling. How can I apologize without leaving you, Terrance?" Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, but it was my fault for my lack of impulse because if I had just waited Terry wouldn't be glaring at me right now like an enemy.
"Oh, it's Terrance now, alright... But baby you really did fuck up and I'm so mad at you right now I don't even know what to do. If I was gone any longer, would you have fucked half the block? I'm out trying to make money to keep both of our heads above the water and you can't even wait baby. Want me to show you how waiting works?" His voice was eerily calm which unsettled me, but I nodded my head anyways without knowing what was in store for me.
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"Oh dadddyyyy! Ughh fuck please let me cumm?" I was practically crying because Terry had been edging me over 13 hours by now and it felt like I was falling into delirium.
"Nah." The vibrator on my clit increased in levels and somehow Terry knew exactly when to remove it before I could actually get release. He had that devilish smirk on his face because he knew after tonight the dynamics of our relationship would change.
"Baby, you need somebody to monitor every little thing you doing. You so sneaky... slangin ass thinking I wouldn't find out about it." He kissed his teeth as I raised my hips up trying to grind my wet pussy against the vibrator.
"I need you, please don't go! Unhhhhh uhhhhh oh shit so close please daddy please..." Tears were running down my face as my I felt my orgasm approaching but he simply pulled the vibrator away altogether leaving me completely unsatisfied.
"I'm not gonna let you cum on a vibrator or my fingers but this dick because you need a reminder, Y/n. If I don't fuck you to show you that all of this ass, them titties, those pretty brown eyes, and that wet ass pussy belongs to me then you gonna run off again. Can't have you running off can't I?"
I was already gasping for air and Terry crawled on top of me pushing himself in slowly. The pressure of his size alone was enough to make me pass out but I kept my unsteady eyes on his bluish green ones. His fingers slipped through my silk-pressed hair propping my head up on his palm as he slowly began to dig me out.
There was something about sex this time that felt like I was giving everything I had to him and there was no going back. Those slow thrusts soon turned into sharp ones and his balls were plopping against my clit sending me into my first orgasm of the night and I ejected Terry out of my pussy.
"See? Can't nobody but me have your pussy crying from joy. See you need to learn from your pussy so happy to see me its gushing but you? I still think you in denial about everything. Want me to talk? I'll talk to you every day from now on baby. You can bring up a Netflix show I fucking hate and I'll watch it just to have a conversation with you. Let me know when you need me, okay? Goddamn I want to forgive but it's so hard..." There was confliction in Terry's words and in my stomach as he continued to dick me down.
He started kissing my neck with those thick lips of his and I fell into my second orgasm of the night, burying my nails into his back. My hair was slowly returning to its curly form from the sweating running down my forehead and Terry's sweat falling on my face.
Before I knew it, he had me on all fours face buried into the white pillows as he held both of my wrists in one hand. His teeth were buried into his lip as he continued to give me that dick and I knew that he was about to cum so I bounced my ass back against him.
"Ohhhhh daddyyy this pussy all yours you can have meeee! Ooooo you hitting my spot oh!" I whimpered as I felt Terry precisely nailing my spot causing my toes to curl into the sheets and for my mouth to salivate.
"See how daddy taking care of you? Even when I'm mad as fuck I'm considerate like this. A nigga like Dmitri? That's my friend but you would be on the street fucking with him. Baby you got all of what you need right now in those pretty, pink guts of yours. Pussy drooling all over me and your other lips drooling on the pillow because you can't say shit. Ah, how I like it when you can't say shit." Terry chuckled lightly before increasing his thrusts which caused the sheets to bundle up under the both of you and your third orgasm of the night was approaching in rapid succession.
"Ohhhh fuckkkkk never again! I'll never be unloyal again please just let me cum? I'm sorry please I'm sorry I'm so dumb I didn't even know what I had right here... Ahhhh you in meeee so deep!" My voice squeaked as I reached my climax, squirting on his thighs and dick as the flow of pleasure ran over me like a tsunami wave.
"That's what I like to hear..." Terry said as he pulled his slightly soft dick out of my used pussy. The slosh of his cum and mines made me shiver before I drifted off into sleep.
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Terry must have cleaned me up in my sleep and apparently, he still thought I was asleep because he was talking to Dmitri on the phone:
"Man, please tell me you broke up with that no good ass woman. When I first saw her I knew she was troub-" "Dmitri, I don't think that's none of your business "man" "
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bunbun-mochi · 5 months ago
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Mischievous I
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Luke and Kieran, Ft. Sylus x MC (pre marriage)
Warning: Just pure fluff. Swearing. Mephisto almost died (exaggerating)
Word Count:1017, no proofreading
Preview: MC asked Luke and Kieran to steal Sylus' wallet so she can finally pay for their date. Luke and Kieran happily agreed.
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"Pst." Luke and Kieran looked at each other when they heard a pst sound.
"Pst. Here!" MC poked their head into their bedroom. "Can I come in?"
"Do you know what it means?" Luke said.
"When visiting men at night?" Kieran continued.
"In their room?" Luke finished.
MC rolled her eyes. "Is that a yes or no?"
Luke and Kieran shrugged. "Sure, but if boss came looking for us because you visited us at night, you gonna take the blame."
"Yea yea, whatever." MC said as she closed the door. "I need your help."
"Yea?" Luke said, clearly uninterested.
"I need you to steal Sylus' wallet."
Both Luke and Kieran straighten up.
"He keeps paying for everything. Let me pay for once! So you two better do a good job!"
Both Luke and Kieran stood up and playfully saluted, "Yes ma'am!"
"I'm counting on you both!"
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Luke and Kieran snuck into Sylus' office while MC was distracting Sylus in the living room.
"Check the cabnets!" Luke whispered.
"I did! It not there!" Kieran whispered back.
"Did you check his desk?"
"That's the first thing I checked!"
"Check harder! It have to be in the room somewhere!"
Both Luke and Kieran looked high and low, but failed to find their boss' wallet.
"What are you two doing?" A deep voice interrupted their search.
"Boss!" Luke jumped. "We uh were looking for something." Kieran nodded.
Sylus narrowed his eyes, "What are you two be looking for that could be in my office?"
Luke and Kieran felt sweat rolled down their back and through their clentched buttcheeks. "Uh."
"They are looking for my earrings." MC interjected.
Luke and Kieran immedietly nodded, "Yes. Her earrings."
Sylus eyed both Luke and Kieran then to MC. "Really now."
Luke, Kieran, and MC all nodded.
"Then continue looking." Sylus lazily waved his hand and left his office. Right before the door closes, MC gestured with her hand as if saying "Do better".
The door closed and Luke and Kieran looked at each other. "We're fucked."
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The next few days weren't lucky either. Luke and Kieran looked in other rooms while MC rummaged through Sylus' clothes while Sylus showered. But all three came empty-handed.
"Where the fuck would he hide his wallet?" Luke throws his hand in the air, clearly frustrated.
All three are in the twin's room having their "meetings".
"Could he be taking it with him everywhere?" MC asked.
Kieran shook his head, "No, I've seen his wallet a few times, laying sometimes on his desk or the coffee table."
"Do you think he knows what we are doing?" MC asked.
Luke and Kieran both shrugged. "After working under him, we noticed that he tend to know things much more than we do. So probably."
MC groaned. "Great. Now what?"
"We should give up." Luke winked.
MC looked at Luke and beamed. "You're absolutely right!"
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The next few days, Luke, Kieran, and MC do their daily routine as usual.
MC laid on her bed in her apartment, staring at the ceiling. It's only a few hours before their date and she had failed to get Sylus' wallet. Since she can't get his wallet, she's going for Plan B. Pay before he does.
Suddently, her phone dinged. She grabbed her phone and checked. It's from the twins.
Luke:
Guess
Kieran:
What
Luke:
?
MC:
What?
An image poped up. A picture of a wallet.
Luke:
We got what you asked.
Kieran:
We expect payment.
MC:
HOW?
Kieran:
A magician never reveals their secrets
MC rolled her eyes and smiled. Trusting the twins was the right idea. She jumped and down, excited for the date.
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The date went well. MC was smiling ear from ear.
"Aren't you excited." Sylus chuckled. "What happened?"
MC shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Just something good happened at work."
"Please do share the good news with me."
MC froze. "Uh, I got a raise!"
Sylus nodded. "Mhm."
"That's ... it."
"Is that right? How much?" Sylus smiled, and clearly knew that MC is pulling answers out of her ass.
"About uh..." MC started then she furrowed her eyebrows. "Hey. What's that look!"
Sylus chuckled, "It's like watching a kitten did something bad but is trying very hard to cover their crimes."
MC puts her hands on her hips, "I don't do crimes. I'm innocent."
"Sure."
Before MC could come with another comeback, the waiter arrived with a bill.
MC beamed. She reached in her purse for her wallet. She shuffled through the bag. Then she looked in her purse. Then she looked up at Sylus.
Sylus, having a knowing smile, asked, "Looking for something?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. All the while smirking at MC.
MC sat there, bewildered. "What-How-What?"
"Don't worry, Luke and Kieran have your wallet."
MC stared at Sylus, dumbfounded.
Sylus cocked his head to the side, "What? You really would think I'll allow you to pay? I'll lose my dignity if I do that."
MC, still staring at Sylus, "How?"
Sylus leaned back in his seat, "It was pretty obvious what you three were up to."
MC furrowed her eyebrow, "Mephisto snitched, didn't he."
"Please leave my pet alone."
"No, I'm going send hell to that damn bird!"
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MC and Sylus went back into the mansion. Luke and Kieran greeted them with a slightly guilty look on their faces.
"Sylus! How did Luke and Kieran have my wallet?"
Sylus shrugged, "Easy. I brought another wallet that looks like mine, put your cards in it, and let Luke and Kieran get it, thinking they got mine."
"How did you get my wallet?"
"When you slept."
MC gasped, "You!"
Sylus chucked, "You're free to stay here as long as you need."
"What I need is the location of that chicken!"
"Don't insult Mephisto using that phrase. He'll get sad."
"I don't give a damn. Where's Mephisto?!"
"Kitten-" Sylus started when MC ran upstairs and into Sylus' room.
What can be heard is Mephisto cawing loudly while beating his wings furiously, trying to get away from MC while MC ran around the room screaming "YOU SNITCH".
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dividers, templates, headers, and banners are from @uzmacchiato
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pixelnrd · 5 months ago
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Mac was satisfied with their mother's account of her own childhood and where she had come from; but it had only opened up more doors that Mac wanted to explore. They had heard from their mother and her siblings - but they wanted to know more. And who better to tell them than their grandmothers.
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Mac tried to visit their grandma's every few months. The years had taken a lot from them in old age, and the triplets had sequestered them back home from Tartosa to keep them close by and safe as old age began to take its toll on every facet of their lives. Heather and Jenny lived in a retirement home, albeit one that had every luxury of a resort. Whenever Mac visited, they were always busy with some activity or social engagement.
This time though, Heather was excited to see her grandchild to tell them stories of her own life. She broke out her old family photo album, the one she had held onto her whole life, with the precious few photographs she had to show where she herself had come from.
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'My mother and father were married, and they had me and my brother. You'd see these photos and think we were the perfect family, but I learnt from a young age that things aren't always what they might seem from the outside - my Mom was unhappy, and my Dad was a workaholic. After my parents divorced, Dad married again and moved away, your classic mid life crisis. But even so, as a young girl I missed him so dearly.'
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'I guess that's the benefit of never having known my Dad,' mused Mac. 'I can't miss someone I never met.'
Heather smiled at her grandchild. 'Such an insightful one, aren't you? You can't miss what you never had... except your own memories. I did always want to see that big house we grew up in one last time before my time is up.'
Mac had a great idea. 'Why don't we go there, granny? Just for a look?'
And so Mac took their elderly grandmother on a road trip to San Sequoia, to the address of the home she had grown up in as a child in the 80s. Except when they arrived, the house didn't look the same.
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'Well, I guess it's to be expected,' sighed Heather. 'All old things get remade into something new.'
Mac didn't want their grandmother to be sad; but as they went to turn around, a family came out of the house - a Mom, a Dad and so many children.
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'Sorry to have bothered,' said Mac. 'It's just, my granny here grew up in this house as a girl, and she wanted to see it one more time.'
The family were excited to hear Heather's story, and invited them into the house. It was a beautiful, sunlit home with all the marks of being well lived in by a young family. It was nothing at all like it had been in Heather's childhood - and yet, she smiled as she looked around the space, remembering that her childhood had existed right here too in a different time.
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'Are you okay, granny?' asked Mac. They didn't want her to be feeling sad, like her childhood had been destroyed.
Heather smiled and hugged her grandchild. 'Not at all my dear. Another family lives here and is making their memories now. Think of the beaitiful layers and layers of happy childhoods that exist here. I am glad that this home is still loved.'
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kurithedweeb · 14 days ago
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Dear Sir Garroth,
You may have noticed, if you ever read this, that I did not try to set this letter on fire. Perhaps I should have. I am, after all, still pissed at you and lacking anything better to do. Still bedridden. It hasn't been all that long since my last letter, in truth.
Dante's been visiting us a lot, whenever he can spare the time. He's trying to catch everyone up on what we missed the last fifteen years. He's the only one who's been here the entire time. He never stopped writing reports, so those have been helping some when I can make out the words. Fifteen years and his writing still looks like chicken scratch. At least one thing's still the same.
He has children now. His oldest daughter is six years old. I haven't met her yet. It's hard to imagine Dante as a father when less than a week ago he was sixteen. He turned sixteen in the middle of a war and now he has a six year old daughter. And guess who the mother is? Miss Nana. I remember his cute little crush on her, I remember the way she could make him smile when the rest of us could barely get him to respond at all. They're a good match, aren't they?
She came to see us with Dante. She brought a basket of pastries like she used to bring to the barracks. She made some old favorites to welcome us home. She thought you were with us. She asked where you were.
I couldn't tell her. I couldn't utter a single word. All I could do was sit there, clutching the edge of my cot, eyes on the floor. She figured it out before anyone could explain. She apologized to our lady, and then she sat beside me and put her hand on mine and said nothing. She didn't need to.
So much has happened. Half the village moved away. Dante and Miss Nana are married with a family. All the little ones are grown up. Our little Levin is Lord of Phoenix Drop and can't walk on his own. Cadenza is Lord of Meteli. My father is dead.
For all I know, so are you. I turned back just before I went into the portal. It was only long enough for a glimpse, but I saw him run a sword through you. In your back and out your chest. Did you see me as I turned back? Was I the last thing you saw? I hope I was, if it was between me and him.
I haven't told our lady yet. I haven't told anyone. They still hope that we might be able to go back for you, or that we might be able to find some way to bring you home. I know what I saw, but there's some part of me that thinks you could have survived. If anyone could do it, you could.
I lit a candle for you. You don't know what that means. It's something we do along the Trail for lost souls. We make candles that don't burn out and when someone goes travelling we light one; Dante kept the ones he found in my bunk years ago. The flame is a part of the person the candle is for. It's supposed to guide them home, only going out when someone dies. Your candle is beside me right now. It's been burning bright since I first lit it. I want that to mean you're still alive, but for the first time in my life I'm wondering whether the candle knows. I hope it does. I want you to come home. I want to be there for you the way you were for me. The way you always have been.
My sister lit a candle for me. For fifteen years it has been burning. She wrote a letter to me when it went out. She spent half the flint she had to relight it, and cried over the page when it finally caught. Some lines are illegible, ink warped by wet spots. I haven't seen Seafarer's in writing in so long that I can't believe there was ever a time I struggled to write in anything else.
We spent countless nights transcribing my reports into something you could actually read. The night before you took the amulet from me, it was just like all those nights. Oddly enough, that night out of all the rest feels so far away. Maybe it's because of what almost happened between us that night that never did, maybe that makes it all feel a bit like a dream. Were you thinking of that night when you saw me last?
I don't know if I will ever be able to stop being angry with you. I still watch your candle burn until I fall asleep. I still miss you terribly.
Sincerely yours,
Your second-in-command, Sir Laurance Zvahl of Phoenix Drop
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alexa-yukiyu · 1 year ago
Note
Hear me out
Dragon!Child!reader is just casually flying along the seas visiting many islands and just vibing, Child got no concept of the government at ALL so whenever Reader wants to get some food she always remembers humans uses these gold coins and reader just coughs it out. BASICALLY UH Calm peaceful Dragon child flying and having fun while others are like
'IS THAT A FREAKIN DRAGON-'(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)
(okay I don't know where this is going now ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ)
Wandering Dragon ( Whitebeard pirates x dragon!fem!child!reader x revolutionary army)
A/N: Here we go! I only did two crew’s, more like one and a half because I really wanted to give you guys something. I really love writing these hybrid!reader they are so fun.
Part 2 with The Whitebeard pirates
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Where did she come from?” Dragon asks as he stares at the running child, her tail trailing behind her as she ran
“She flew into the ship a while ago, said she was exploring,” Ivankov answers as he watches the girl jump into Koala’s hands, laughing
“I’ve never seen something like her in all my years!” Koala grins at the child as she curls up on her shoulder
“Nor have I, I don’t ever remember seeing one of her kind in my life,” Sabo speaks up as he leans in closer to get a better look at the girl
She leans back from koala, wiggling out of her grasp and flapping her wings flying in front of Sabo
“Whoa there, aren’t you cute?” Sabo glances at the child with a slight smile on his face, reaching a hand out towards her
She furls up in a ball, beaming at his comment, still keeping herself up in the air, her cheeks tinted pink
“Thank you~.”
“You have scales on your cheeks… are you a dragon girl?” Sabo asks, still reaching his hand out carefully toward her
She unfurls herself, leaning into his touch and allowing him to feel the scales on her cheek
“Im Dragon Hybrid; I guess that makes me a dragon girl,” she says, thinking about it
“A dragon girl… that’s pretty incredible,” Sabo murmurs, smiling softly at the girl as he lightly runs a finger across her cheek
“Are you a Dragon Man? They called you Dragon. Are you a cool dragon? Can you breathe fire? Or are you a water dragon? Does your form like a serpent?” She rambles, flying in front of dragon excitedly
“She’s energetic,” Dragon says before sighing as he watches the child and rubbing his temples as he watches her buzz around
“I think she’s adorable,” Koala gushes with a grin on her face
“No. I am not a dragon; My name is Monkey D. Dragon.”
“Awe, no dragon? Nothing?”
“What do I look like a Dragon to you?” Dragon sighs, rubbing his hand down his face as he stares at her
“Hmmm,” she thinks as he circles him
“Yeah, kinda do.”
“Please tell me how I look like a dragon,” Dragon asks with a scoff in his tone
“You remind me of some of the grumpy dragons; they have that same scowl you have right now.”
“That is quite an interesting way to describe someone,” Dragon replies, shaking his head with a slight grin
“She is an interesting child, that’s for certain” Sabo speaks up, glancing at her curiously while she circles his captain
He grins as he calls her over
“Check this out,” he says, lighting his hand on fire
She awes at the sight
“Are you a dragon?”
“Just an ability granted to me by my devil fruit” He smiles, returning his hand to its original state
“The mera mera fruit! Somehow both me and my brother have it.” ” He continues, excited about demonstrating his abilities
She marbles at his numerous tricks and fire abilities that he keeps showing her
She frowns as nightfall falls; hours had gone quickly as she went from member to member with her usual antics
At one point even giving Ivancov a heart attack as they casually started coughing out golden coins when they had asked her how she bought food for herself.
“Is this not how you guys normally get these shiny things?” She had questioned, much to the shock and horror of some of the crewmates
“Aww, I have to get going now.”
“You’re going?” Koala looks at her disappointedly; she had enjoyed being around the child
“Mmhm, I have to keep going if I want to explore and meet more places and people. Im sure I‘ll see you again 'cause we're both moving around.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing you again then.”
“Goodbye, be careful on your travels, alright?” Sabo says with a soft smile before reaching out to gently ruffle her hair before she takes off
“And don’t get yourself into too much trouble!” Ivankov calls after the girl before turning to the others,
“Well, she was a pleasant surprise” he grins
“I didn’t expect a child to just wander into our ship,” Dragon chuckles while rubbing his head
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Reader had now somehow found themselves aboard the Moby Dick, she was tired from her travels and needed to land, and the ship happened to be the closest.
She sneaked her way to the storage room so she could sleep the night away, and she did until she was interrupted when two of the ship's commanders descended into the storage room in search of more food to restock the kitchen. Ace accidentally knocks into one of the boxes, startling awake the dragon girl; he stares at her for a while as she stares back.
“Thatch, are you thinking what im thinking?”
“Yep, old pops is gonna throw a celebration when he hears we have got ourselves a kid on board.”
She stares at them for a second and smiles
Ace chuckles before leaning down in front of you.
"What's your name, kid?" he says, grinning.
“Im reader!” She replies, her wings flapping gently behind her
"Well, hey there, Reader. I'm Ace. And that's Thatch," he says, gesturing to the man standing next to him.
She grins and waves at them excitedly
Ace laughs and picks her up.
"What are you doing stowing away on our ship, anyway? It's not like you could even fit in these boxes. You know, most stowers usually just do it so that they can rob our ship. But the thing is, I don't see any weapons on you." Thatch comments, observing her
“Im not stowing away! Im exploring!” The pout,
“And I don’t need any weapons! I got these!” She says as she wacks her tail and wings and gently headbutts Ace with her horns
Ace laughs as she headbutts him.
"You're pretty feisty, huh? That's a good trait for a pirate. And you say you're not a stowaway or a robber, but you're definitely a bit of a troublemaker, aren't you?"
“Im not a Pirate either.”
Thatch chuckles, a bit confused.
"You're not a pirate? Well, what are you then? A marine? A merchant? Or even a traveler?" he asks.
“Umm, I ‘m Reader!”
"Well, okay then. And how old are you, Reader?" he asks.
“8!”
Ace laughs, looking at Thatch
"Eight? Now I really want to take her to Pops. Because I can already tell that he's gonna love you, kiddo." He says, glancing back at her
“Popsicle?”
They snicker
"Popsicle? No, no, no, no. Pops. Our captain. Whitebeard? He's probably gonna get a kick out of finding a stowaway as adorable as you." Thatch explains
“Not a stowaway!”
"Okay, okay, okay. Fine, fine. You're not a stowaway. You're just an adorable little kid who decided, at eight years old, to explore on her own. Not to mention, you just decided to explore the ship of the Whitebeard Pirates, of all places.”Ace says, fixing his previous statement for the small girl
She nods, pleased with his description
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Sabo was so wholesome here 🥹, Also reader is a lowkey menace in this one lmao, let me know if I should continue this, add more to the whitebeard crew and/or add different crew’s as well.
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
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bunniesanddeer · 1 year ago
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Hi! I hope you’re having a wonderful day or night.
I saw your asks are open and I had an idea. What if it’s a protective Alastor x Reader who is the daughter of a protective Lucifer? Maybe she kept in contact with her dad so they are closer and she is older than Charlie. When Lucifer comes to visit the hotel him and Alastor cause some drama
Thanks!
W.P💚
I hope this is what you were looking for? I am very new to doing things like this!
Daddy's Girl
Pairing: Alastor X Lucifer's Daughter! Reader
Tags: Sisterly love, some sexual connotations, spoilers, some angst maybe? idk, swearing, Mimzy.
SPOILERS FOR "DAD BEAT DAD"
Word Count: 1,775
The hotel was eerily quiet when you awoke, so you made your way downstairs to see if anyone was awake. All you could hear as you made your way down the stairs was your quiet footfalls and weird murmuring. As you turned towards the sitting area, you realized the muttering was coming from your younger sister, Charlie.
Charlie was pacing back and forth in front of a pin board covered in colorful papers, and strings. She tugged at her hair, her muttering growing more frantic. As you took in the scene, you realized there were a few people standing and watching her. Niffty was bouncing on the couch, her face full of a strange glee. Husk and Sir Pentious were watching with mixes of bafflement and curiosity.
“Hey, Char Char? Are you ok?” You asked, walking around the couch to get a better view. You saw Angel and Vaggie approach from your peripherals as Charlie whipped around frantically.
“Nope! No. Not really! Haha. Hah…” Her false smile falls as she rips a page off the board. “I have been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working! We’ve done every single trust exercise and arts and crafts project I could find! We’ve talked about our feelings and… nothing is working!”
You frown. You knew that things taking so long would eventually get to her, but it was sad to see just how severely. She needed more help. 
You walk up to your sister, and set your hands on her shoulders. “I think…”
Her expression collapses. “Please don’t say it.”
“We should call dad. And ask for his help.”
She winces. She clearly doesn’t want your dad’s help. You can’t exactly blame her, either. The two of you were raised a little separate, and it had affected her relationship with Lucifer pretty badly. Although, you were older, and it had afforded you time with Lucifer before Lilith had started to separate herself from him. Charlie had only had a handful of years before their relationship went south. It showed in her anxiety with him, and Lucifer’s inability to talk to Charlie openly. It made you sad, but you weren’t sure how to fix that rift.
“He’s the reason the extermination happens to begin with! He just let it happen! He doesn’t even like sinners! Why would he help me?” Charlie hugs herself, looking off to the side. “He’s always preferred you anyway.”
You hear some audible winces from the audience by the couch, but you ignore them. You pull her into a tight hug, her taller frame putting you at her collarbones. “You know I would change that if I could, honey.” You squeeze her tightly and say, “We can at least see if he can get you a meeting. Anything to give you the advantage, Char Char.”
She sighs, and hugs you back. “Yeah. I guess we can at least try.”
You pull back. “I think you should call him. I bet he’s dying to hear from you, even though he sucks at showing it.”
Charlie rubs her arm and nods. “Alright. I’ll do it!”
As she struggles to start the phone call, Husk makes comments about her having ‘Daddy Issues’, and you blanch. How rude! (Even if it was true). The others make comments about meeting Lucifer, but you and Vaggie just keep your eyes on Charlie. She seems so nervous, and it makes your stomach twist in knots. 
She finally calls. It rings three times before a faint, “Heyyyy bitch!” rings out on the other end of the line. You facepalm. Good going Dad.
When all is said and done, Lucifer announces he is visiting within the hour, after much cajoling and guilt-tripping on Charlie’s part. Although, from what you could hear, he seemed excited.
Charlie is excited, and so is everyone else in the hotel. You cheer for her, and then the realization hits you. 
Alastor. Fuck.
As the final touches are finished, you sidle up to Alastor with a small grin.
“Please, please don’t start shit. Charlie needs this to work. And I need this to work for Charlie,” you murmur to him. 
He barely glances at you. “Worry not, sweetheart! You know I would never do anything to risk the reputation of the hotel! Charlie will get the help she needs!” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he squeezes you into his side. For just a moment, his head ducks down, and he whispers into your ear. “Just need to make it clear whose little girl you are now.” Then he perks right back up like nothing happened.
Your face burns hot. How dare he! But you don’t get to do anything in retaliation, because Charlie is opening the door.
“Chaaaaarlie!” Lucifer exclaims, immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Your sister’s face is full of shock, and you just want to laugh. Ha! You were right! He continues talking to her in the slightest baby voice, and you can’t help but let some giggles escape you. Your dad could be just so silly! “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”
He lets go of Charlie as she welcomes him to the hotel. He spots Keekee first, and pets her. Then greets Razzle and Dazzle. You watch from the sidelines with a small smile. It was nice seeing your dad outside the home. He had been holing himself up for so long… You look up at Alastor, who hasn’t moved an inch since your dad came in.
You elbow him gently. “You okay?”
Alasotr’s expression is tight. His eyes flicker to you for a moment, before landing back on your father. He merely hums in response, making you frown. How odd… You knew the two wouldn’t get along, but for Alastor to dislike him already?
 Then your dad spots the bar. “Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?” 
Alastor immediately shadow-walks to the other side of the room, and you know it’s time to intervene.
“Oh! Just some of the renovations we’ve made.” Alastor gestures with his mic, before continuing. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” 
You wince, and make your way to Alastor’s side. 
“Hey, Dad,” you say, trying to prevent your dad making any further comments on the decor. That's a good way to piss off Alastor.
“Sweetheart!” Your dad runs up to you, and tries picking you up. You laugh at the tights squeeze. “How’s my girl?” His hands squish your cheeks, making it hard to respond.
You giggle through the ministrations, and finally push his hands back so you can respond. “I’m doing great, Dad. Figured I should introduce you to Alastor here.” You gesture to Alastor, who looks the closest to not smiling that you have ever seen. It makes your stomach feel like lead, as you keep talking. “He’s our facilities' manager, and my…”
Your voice trails off, and you look at Alastor, as if hoping he has the word you are looking for.
“I’m her lover!” Alastor exclaims, quite loudly. His static drops for a moment and then bursts back up in volume, making you wince. Great. He just announced that to everyone in the room. The ‘everyone’ being everyone who didn’t know. You can hear Charlie ‘whoop!’ in the background, and several variations of ‘what the fuck’. “She’s quite the darling. I just couldn’t resist this sweet face!” Alastor grabs at your cheeks, similar to how your dad did, and squishes them. “See?”
You risk a glance at your dad. He looks ready to kill. Fuck. This is absolutely not how you wanted to tell your dad. He nearly killed the last partner you had for ghosting you. You can see your dad’s horns growing, and you push Alastor back.
“Haha! Yeah. Uh. Sorry. I would have told you before now, but we’re kind of new! We were trying to keep it on the down-low for now but…” You glare at Alastor, but he just has this shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he doesn’t care. 
“Right.” Your dad continues glaring at Alastor. You wince, and decide to go over by the snack table. Angel is just giving you this look, and you know he will be asking about Alastor’s dick, which you have not seen, later. Husk seems disappointed in you, and you absolutely know why. You just give him an apologetic shrug, and watch as Alastor and your dad seem to start a pissing match. 
It ends with Alastor in his face saying, “Fuck you,” and your knees nearly give out. Holy shit. 
Charlie finally intervenes, and Lucifer, after some more glaring at Alastor, get her to introduce him to the rest of the residents.
Alastor lays a hand on your shoulder as your dad greets both the guests and the staff. You can feel his thumb rubbing back and forth, and it sends shivers down your spine. You look up at Alastor, but his gaze is still locked on your dad. Annoyed, you roll your eyes with a huff, and look back to the meet-and-greet. Your dad is looking back at you, his frown deep, and a barely audible growl making its way to your ears. Your dad is fucking growling at Alastor. What the Hell?
A rumble builds up in Alastor’s chest, and you can feel it against your back. This one sets heat back up to your face. Gosh, this man needed to get his shit together. No need to start stuff with your dad! Alastor’s hand tightens on your shoulder, before he lets go and stalks back towards Charlie, who is trying to convince your dad to help her. 
And then they’re singing. Because of course. Alastor joins in, saying some things that seem to really piss off your dad, but you can't hear much over the blood rushing in your ears. Sometimes these two could be so embarrassing. When your dad pulls out the golden fiddle, you nearly die laughing. (He still wasn’t over losing that one time!) Everything comes to a head, with the two men yelling insults in each other's faces, when suddenly-
“It’s ME!” A woman barges in through the lobby doors, yelling and calling herself Mimzy. She’s blonde, and dressed like a flapper. Alastor seems to recognize her, so you don’t worry. 
Later that night, when your dad has finally agreed to help your sister get that meeting, you all settle onto the couches, making a game plan. Alastor sits beside you, one foot resting on the other knee. You lean over and ask softly, “What did you say during that song, anyway?”
Alastor’s grin sharpens, and he presses his lips near your ear, again. “Charlie calls me dad, and your eldest calls me Daddy.”
If you nearly choke on your own spit, you refuse to admit it. 
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aryadelvich · 2 months ago
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hii... Well, I'm on vacation at the beach and I'm really terrified of the sea, I'm anxious that a wave will drag me away or that I'll be too stupid to swim and I want to know if you can please write something where Luigi comforts me and helps me overcome my fear during the vacation...
Hiii! Sorry for the late reply. I’m guessing you’re not on vacation anymore, but you can keep this for the next time you go to the beach. Hope it helps! 💕💕
If you’re looking for more of my work here’s an Updated Masterlist
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The view was magical. You were sitting on the beautiful white sand, and to your left stood the famous Mauna Kea mountain. Luigi and you had gone on a trip to Hawaii, and every moment together felt like a dream.
Before leaving, a slight anxiety had lingered in your mind. You and Lu had only been together for a few months, and you wondered if spending 24 hours a day together would become tiresome, if being so close all the time would create tension. Of course, there were small arguments from time to time, but nothing serious. Luigi was a sweetheart, always attentive.
He was the one who planned the outings, found the best restaurants, and organized the itineraries. He knew how to solve any problem that arose and always made sure you had eaten and drunk enough. Every morning, before you were even fully awake, he would place a steaming cup of coffee by your bedside along with a light breakfast, knowing that you struggled to eat too early.
When you walked along the beach, he made sure the sun wasn’t too harsh on your skin, carefully applying sunscreen to you every two hours with gentle, precise movements. If he noticed you squinting under the bright light, he would bring you a hat without saying a word.
And then, there were those little gestures that made all the difference. Like this morning when he had slipped out quietly to bring back your favorite snack, spam musubi, and tucked it into your bag without a word. It wasn’t until midday, when your stomach started to growl, that you found it. He watched you with an amused smile as you devoured it, entertained by your enthusiasm.
He reassured you, made you laugh, and shared countless anecdotes every time you visited a place or monument. But more than anything, he helped you face your fears.
Unfortunately, you were terrified of the ocean. The thought of the waves pulling you away, the current being too strong, not having enough energy to swim, or having a panic attack in the middle of the water filled you with anxiety. At first, you hadn’t admitted this fear to him, but over time, Luigi had noticed.
"You’re not coming to swim?" he asked, curious.
"No, I’m just going to stay under the umbrella and read a book."
Luigi narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced.
"But I want to swim with you. What if we pretended to be mermaids? Or even better, what if we went diving off that little hill over there?"
He pointed to a small rocky formation where vacationers were taking turns jumping into the crystal-clear water.
"Sorry, Lu, I…"
You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. It was hard to admit.
"Is something wrong? Since the beginning of the trip, you’ve only dipped your feet in the water and nothing more," he asked, this time more concerned.
You bit your lip before taking a deep breath.
"Promise me you won’t make fun of me?"
Luigi frowned, as if the very idea of mocking you was absurd. But quickly, his expression softened, becoming reassuring.
"Never. Tell me, I’m listening."
"I’m afraid of the sea…"
He immediately placed a comforting hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles on your skin.
"Oh, I see… Is there a particular reason, or is it just an instinctive fear?"
"Just like that… I swear I’d love to have fun in the water with you, but I just can’t. I’m too scared. I’m afraid the waves will pull me away, that I’ll be too anxious to swim, and as soon as I can’t feel the ground under my feet, I panic."
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to him. He pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in a tender voice:
"You don’t have to justify yourself."
He held you a little tighter, as if to shield you from the fear that haunted you. With Luigi, you knew you never had to force yourself, that he would never judge you. He wouldn’t rush you; he would take his time, with you, at your own pace.
Luigi kept holding you, letting the silence settle for a few moments. He wasn’t trying to minimize your fear or force you. He was thinking, searching for the best way to help you without pushing you too hard.
Then, gently, he asked:
"What if we went in together, just up to our knees? No further. We’ll take it slow."
You hesitated. The very idea of going deeper into the water made you anxious, but Luigi was there. There had never been anyone you trusted more.
"You promise we’ll go slowly?"
"Promise. I’ll stay by your side the whole time. And if you want to stop, we’ll stop."
You nodded timidly, and he stood up before extending his hand to you. You took it, and together, you walked toward the shoreline.
The first waves lapped at your feet, and your heart immediately started racing. Luigi felt it and squeezed your hand a little tighter.
"Look at me, not the water. Breathe slowly… inhale… exhale… There, just like that."
You followed his rhythm, focusing on his eyes rather than the waves. You moved forward slowly, and soon, the water reached your knees.
"You’re incredible," Luigi murmured with a smile. "Look at everything you’re already doing."
You looked down and realized that despite the fear twisting your stomach, you were really there, in the water, much further than you had ever imagined possible.
"I… I’m doing it," you whispered, almost in disbelief.
Luigi nodded. "Yes. And what if we went just a tiny bit further? Just so the water reaches our waists. I’ll hold you."
Slowly, you moved forward. Whenever your anxiety spiked, Luigi stopped and reassured you. He told you ridiculous anecdotes to distract you, making you laugh. And as time passed, the fear seemed to fade.
"Now, hold onto me," he said, turning to face you. "I’m going to show you something."
He slid his hands under your arms and encouraged you to float. You resisted at first, but he supported you, never letting go.
"Trust the water, let it carry you… You don’t have to do anything, just breathe. I’m here."
Then, slowly, you let go of the tension, and your body floated on the surface. The warm water surrounded you, the sky stretched above you, and for the first time… you didn’t feel fear, just an immense sense of freedom.
As you finally floated, rocked by the water, a sudden euphoria overtook you. You had done it. After years of fear, you were there, in the ocean, and you no longer felt like you were in danger.
You turned your head toward Luigi, who was watching you with a radiant smile.
"You did it," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride.
A wave of emotion washed over you, and without thinking, you straightened up suddenly and threw yourself into his arms. But in your enthusiasm, your weight pushed against him, causing him to slip slightly underwater.
"Mmmph!"
Luigi briefly sank before resurfacing, spitting out a bit of water, his soaked hair sticking to his forehead.
"Oh my god, Lu! I’m so sorry!" you exclaimed, panicked.
He shook his head, laughing, wiping water from his face. "No, no, it’s fine! You’re just stronger than you look!" he teased, his hands still on your waist, keeping you steady.
You pouted guiltily. "I just wanted to thank you… not drown you."
He chuckled softly and pressed a hand against your cheek. "If that’s how you thank me, I’m willing to sink over and over again."
You blushed slightly before kissing him again, more gently this time. He kissed you back tenderly, his arms wrapping around you without hesitation.
"Alright, now that you can float, are you ready for our next challenge?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
You raised an eyebrow. "What challenge?"
"Swimming to that hill and jumping with me."
You playfully smacked his shoulder. "Don’t push your luck, Mangione."
"Okay, okay. But admit it, you’re a little tempted…"
You rolled your eyes with a smile. Maybe you were.
In the evening, after a long day of excursions, he pulled you close into the hammock of your bungalow, gently rocking you with the tip of his foot. His hand traced soothing circles on your back as he whispered sweet words into your ear. He knew exactly how to calm you, how to reassure you, how to make this trip not just an escape, but a precious memory to cherish forever.
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suspiciouslackofclowns · 4 months ago
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She thought that coming up the hill would be the hardest part, but that proves to be wrong once she’s at the top.
Max hadn’t had the courage to visit by herself. Hadn’t wanted to experience the awkwardness of being both alone and un-alone, talking to someone and no one.
Most likely no one.
She thought about buying a Ouija board, but Robin very narrowly talked her out of it.
This seemed like a better alternative anyway.
Of all the birthdays she knows her brother spent alone, held up in his room with no gifts or cake because he claimed to not care about that shit, she figured that he shouldn’t get to choose this time.
So, there’s a blanket spread out on the grass with an unopened cake from Melvald’s on top, and a bouquet of flowers.
“Man, he would’ve called this gay,” Steve muses.
He leans against his hand, legs semi-stretched beside him, admiring the inscription on the headstone like it’s nothing more than a rock with writing on it.
And maybe, to him, it isn’t.
Max huffs a laugh, but it’s clipped near the end. Heavy, when her throat bobs, and she nods as tears slip down her cheeks.
“He’d call me a shithead and probably still try to steal a slice when nobody was looking,” Max says with a chuckle.
Steve huffs amusedly and shrugs.
“He was a funny guy.”
His gaze wanders off as he tugs some blades of grass up from the ground, snapping and sprinkling them into a small pile at his side with his free hand.
The finality to his words has Max’s brows drawing together.
She often wonders if, maybe, she and Steve never clicked for a reason, and if she probably shouldn’t have invited him up here when Robin suggested it.
Trust me, she had said. Take Steve, if you take anyone.
“Guess so,” Max murmurs.
Her eyes wander down to the cake sitting between them, blank, just as it was on the shelf. She wipes her eyes and thinks about reaching out to pop the plastic lid off when Steve shifts.
“Wasn’t really big on sweets,” he says.
Max blinks at him.
“What?”
“Billy,” Steve says, glancing over at her and gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “He didn’t like sweets.”
She stares for a long moment, searching her mind for a protest. Comes up blank when she tries to think of the two of them getting ice cream or something together, but she can’t recall him ever ordering anything for himself.
Across the blanket, Steve hums amusedly and smiles to himself, fiddling with a single grass blade between his fingers.
“He liked the apple pie at the diner, though. With a scoop of plain vanilla ice cream.”
“You guys went to the diner together?”
Steve’s face flushes a light pink and he shrugs again.
“Yeah? Quite a bit, actually. I think they still have his senior photo up by the register. Guy could demolish a burger.”
Max’s eyes mist over again, but she chews her lip and nods. Pushes a hand through her hair and turns her gaze down toward the blanket.
“I always thought he was, like, out partying or something.”
“We partied,” Steve admits. Shifts and lays down on his side, propping his head up in his hand. “But we usually… found somewhere quiet and just talked. Sometimes at the diner, sometimes the quarry, I think even the pool once or twice.”
He suppresses a grin as he thinks to himself, lightly nudging his sneaker against the stone. Like he’s unaware that it’s even there.
The line between Max’s brows deepens.
“If you guys were so close, then why weren’t you at his funeral?” she snaps.
Immediately, she cups a hand over her mouth, eyes widening as Steve glances at her again.
His brown eyes grow bigger for just a moment.
“I don’t know,” he confesses. A new heat rises to the surface of his skin, eyes becoming glassy. “Felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed…” he pauses to clear his throat before continuing, “I, ah, visit a lot, though.”
“You do?” Max blurts.
Steve nods. Nudges the slightly older, more brittle bouquet lying next to the fresh one with the tip of his shoe.
“Who do you think leaves the flowers?”
With her hand still clamped over her mouth, Max stares at him again.
“How often do you come here?”
“Oh, just… whenever,” he says. “Maybe like three or more times a week?”
“Three or more times a week?”
Now, Steve sits up, brows drawing together.
“What’s your deal? If I knew you were gonna freak out and yell at me about everything I say, I wouldn’t have agreed to come up here.”
Max holds her hands out in front of her.
“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she says. Sighs and rubs a hand over her face. “I guess I just… I dunno, we were never close, but I kinda always thought I knew him best. Now I’m finding out you guys were apparently linked at the hip, and he never… I didn’t even know he didn’t like sweet stuff…”
Her skin grows hot and her eyes well with tears again. Chapped and boiling over.
Steve’s expression relaxes, and he drops his shoulders.
“He wasn’t just secretive with you. Most of what I learned about him was just by observing,” Steve reassures. Then chuckles. “He was always calling me these stupid nicknames, and the one time I called him something back — angel face — he flipped and yelled at me. No idea why.”
Max sniffles and wipes her eyes with her palms, accepting the small bundle of napkins when Steve passes it over to her.
“Angel face?” she asks.
Suddenly, Steve looks away bashfully.
“Dunno, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing I said. He hated it, so I never used nicknames again.”
Max shakes her head, which earns a puzzled look.
“He didn’t hate nicknames,” she says. Glances briefly at the headstone and then away again. “Angel face is what his mom called him.” It feels like a betrayal, to say it out loud, and Max winces. “I overheard Neil mention it in their arguments once or twice.”
She fiddles with her pant leg in her lap for a moment. Looks up to see Steve’s eyes nearly overflowing with tears, staring at the headstone.
“Oh,” he croaks.
The sight, the sound of his voice has Max’s throat going tight.
She shifts in place. Watches as Steve takes a shaky breath and reaches up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his palm. Then, she’s pushing herself up and shuffling across the blanket on her knees, reaching her arms around his shoulders.
At first, he doesn’t react. Then there’s an arm stretching around her back.
Hugging him is exactly like she thought it would be. Like he’s comforting her, and not the other way around. Steady, grounding, like she knows him to be for others.
She makes a mental note to thank Robin later on.
“He really was a funny guy.”
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fairykingjing · 8 months ago
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Trafalgar Law X F Reader - Do Barmaids Belong with Pirates?
Here's that Law fic I promised, got another Zoro one coming later this week! Enjoy friends!
Summary: It’s the morning after a night of fun with a pirate captain who frequented the bar you work at. Only you realize you’re still on his submarine, and they already left town.
Warnings: morning after sex fic, both reader and Trafalgar Law are drugged with an aphrodisiac, intimacy is implied to have happened but nothing explicit is stated, angst, fluff at the end
WC: 1841
You wake up with a groan, your head pounding from one too many drinks last night. You expect to see sunlight streaming through a window, but you find yourself in a cool, dark room. There’s a chill in the air as you realize you don’t have your clothes on. You get up and fumble for a light switch, just to see that you are still on the Polar Tang, and metal walls surround you. Memories of last night come flooding back, and you recall some of what happened.
Trafalgar Law and his crew had come by your bar again, ready to unwind with a round of drinks. Every time he visited your island, you felt his eyes staring at you wherever you went, but you never tried to say anything. A pirate captain of his caliber was not someone you wanted to mess with. His crew had been goading him into asking you out, apparently he had a thing for you, not that you ever would have known. He was a very attractive man, but a barmaid from a small island had no business being with a man like him. Still, you were friendly with him and his crew, a little flirty even, and after your shift ended they invited you to join them.
Someone had shoved a drink in both yours and Law’s hands, and you both downed them without question. That’s where everything gets fuzzy. You remember feeling heated, and you could no longer keep your eyes off Law. He was feeling the same. You recalled walking back towards his submarine, and after that it goes a bit blank. You scrunch your face in concentration, trying to remember any small detail, but you can’t. It’s at this point you see that your clothes are in a pile on the floor and you scramble to put them on. You put two and two together and figure that the two of you must have had sex, and he just left you to find your own way off his ship. Pulling the door open, you make your way towards the closest sound of voices.
As you step out into what appears to be the control room, you feel all eyes shoot to you, and a collective “oh shit” is shared among the crew.
“D-does Law know you’re here?” someone asked.
“I… I don’t really know,” you answered. “I don’t even know what happened last night after I boarded the sub. Everything’s foggy.”
“Well we better find out quickly, because we left port over an hour ago!” they exclaimed.
“What!?” you shouted.
Suddenly a strong presence was felt, and you turned timidly to see that Trafalgar Law had entered the room. “What’s with all the commotion?” he demanded. He scanned the room, eyes landing on you and widening in realization. You were still on his ship. He had meant to wake you up when he did, but he had an urgent matter to attend to, and he completely forgot you were there.
“Shit,” he groaned. “This cannot be happening right now.” He walked over to you and pulled you aside. “Look, I don’t know what happened last night, but I suspect someone on my crew used a lust potion on us. I’m sorry, but we’re on a tight schedule to get somewhere so we can’t turn around to drop you off. You’ll have to stay on board until we can get to another island and book you passage back to your home.”
“Uh, okay, that’s fine… I guess…” you said quietly. You were too flustered to argue or demand he take you back now. And what’s this about a lust potion? How long would you be stuck on his ship?
“Since this is mine and my crew’s fault, we’ll provide room and board, and we’ll figure out passage back to your island when we can,” he explained.
You could only nod your head before he whipped around to his crew and began scolding them. “Who the hell put a lust potion in our drinks last night?” he demanded.
“I-it was me, c-captain.,” someone stammered. “But we all had the idea! We know you’ve had your eyes on her for a while now but you refused to say anything to her. S-so we decided to take matters into our own hands.”
“Did any of you stop to consider whether or not my feelings were reciprocated?” Law sighed, rubbing his temples. “Or did you just assume she felt the same way.”
The same way? So he does have feelings for me, you thought to yourself.
“I.. well, she was being pretty flirty with you, so we assumed she did,” someone else answered.
“She’s a barmaid! It’s her job to be flirty! Especially with pirate captains who might have a lot of money,” Law explained.
You were left standing there awkwardly, not sure if you should leave the room or not. It seemed clear that Law did at one point express feelings for you. And while it was true that you were flirty with all the men at the bar (you had to make a living somehow, can they blame you?) you always felt it was different with Law. Still, you weren’t dumb enough to think there was anything special going on. Every interaction was a transaction, and you knew it. Or at least you thought you did. If Law had feelings for you, should you say something?
You cleared your throat and eyes turned to you again, and it was almost like Law forgot you were there a second time. “Fuck, sorry,” Law said quickly. “Bepo will get you set up with somewhere to sleep, and find you a change of clothes.” With that he quickly stormed out of the room, and you were left standing there awkwardly again.
“Sorry about all this,” the Mink you would come to know as Bepo spoke up. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff sorted out.” The two of you left the control room, down a long hallway as he pushed open the door to a small room with a bed in the corner. It wasn’t much, but it would do. “This is just a spare room, but it should suit your needs for now. There’s a change of clothes on the bed, but they might not fit you.”
“That’s okay, I can make do,” you assured. Stepping into the room, you quickly shut the door and peeled yesterdays clothes off. A shower would have been nice, but given the circumstances you won’t complain. You put on the spare clothes, just a plain gray shirt and some long black pants, but they fit you well enough. As you exited the room, you saw that Bepo was waiting for you.
“How about I give you a quick tour of the sub?” he offered. “Then we can get some food.”
“Sounds good to me!” you agreed. He led you along the sub, pointing out areas you could go, and the ones you were strictly to avoid.
“This is Captain Law’s office. Definitely don’t want to go in there,” he cautioned. “Honestly, it might be best if you just avoid him for now.”
“Yeah, he seems like he could use some space…” you nodded in agreement. As you turned to walk away, the door to Law’s office swung open and he stepped out. You squeaked and shrunk back, not wanting to be near him until you had sorted out your feelings, and not sure if he was still pissed off from earlier.
“Ah, there you are, would you mind stepping into my office for a chat?” he asked calmly. You nodded, and stepped into his office nervously. He called out a thanks to Bepo and shut the door, strolling over to his desk. He motioned for you to sit in the chair opposite him, and feeling as though you had no choice, you sat. Taking in your surroundings, you noticed his office was immaculately kept, neat stacks of papers in piles around the room, and several filing cabinets with a variety of labels, several indicating they contained medical records of his crew. “Now, to discuss a plan for getting you back to-”
“Do you like me?” you blurted out. Your face flushed in embarrassment as you realized what you just said.
“Why would you ask me that?” Law questioned. “We really need to get back to-”
“Just answer the damn question, Law,” you demanded. “Please. I know what I heard...”
He frowned, clearly you were not willing to back down from this. Figuring truth was the best option, he answered. “Yes, I’ve found myself drawn to you. Every time my crew and I visit the island, I can’t help but go to the bar you work at. Something about you catches my eye. Does that answer your question?” Now his own face is flushing. He certainly didn’t want to say any of this stuff to you, despite its truth, but he was between a rock and a hard place with nowhere else to go.
“Y-yes, it does,” you reply. “Why did you never tell me?
“Because what would a barmaid want with a pirate?” he answers dryly. “Besides, you have plenty of men who come and go, you can always find someone else.”
“Oh…” you said softly. “I never wanted to tell you anything either, because what would a pirate want with a barmaid? You have plenty of other islands to go to, you can always find someone else.” You looked down at your feet, wishing you were anywhere but here.
“You’re right,” he murmured. “I could find someone else. But I don’t want someone else.” He stood up now, walking out from behind the desk and over to you. You stood up too, looking up at him nervously.
“W-who do you want then?” you whispered. You swallowed thickly, anticipating his response. You wouldn’t believe it until you heard it from his mouth.
“You, obviously,” he chuckled. He brought his hand up to softly caress your cheek, and before you could say anything else he pulled you in for a soft kiss. You were surprised, you never would have expected this, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, deepening it. Moments later, you heard cheers coming from the doorway to his office, and you both pulled back with a startled laugh.
“I guess this saves you the trouble of telling your crew?” you offered.
“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” he sighed. He would have to have a talk with his crew later about the importance of privacy. But that could wait.
“So, about that passage back to my island…” you began. “Is it too late to change my mind?”
“Of course not,” Law reassured. “I think it’ll be nice having you on the sub.”
“It sure will!” Bepo cheered. He ran in to pull the two of you into a big bear hug. You let out a squeal at the surprise hug, but you smiled big. You thought barmaids didn’t belong with pirates, but maybe this once, she could.
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gauloiseblue · 1 year ago
Text
And at every table / I'll save you a seat
(Gaz × Reader)
Tumblr media
[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]
Tags: fluff, smut, family issue, friends to lovers, slow burn, [A bit of warning] tradition view on virginity and marriage, piv sex
Words: 9.8k
It all started with a little request
"Will you take my virginity?"
He's taken aback by the ask, but he quickly regains his composure.
"No." He replied.
You look at him for a while, before you mutter out, "I understand."
"Wait," He grabs your hand before you could turn around, "Let's talk about it."
He observes the hesitation rising from your face when you look away, "I don't think you'd understand."
"You haven't tried yet." He smiles gently, "Try me, (Name)."
"... It's a long story."
"I got time for it." He told you, "Tea?"
With that, he invites you into his place.
You're silent when he offers you a seat, and he lets you sit with your thoughts as he works on the drink. It's not your first visit to his apartment, since you've been here quite often. But you never came with a somber mood, and he didn't know what to say to cheer you up.
He hands you the cup, before he pours the tea from the pot. He hears you murmur something, and though he doesn't quite catch it, he can roughly guess it.
"So," He began as he sat down across the table, "Would you mind telling me why you suddenly wanna lose it?"
You had blown the steam away from the cup, before you took a sip. He watches you take your time with the drink, until you're ready to talk.
"I know that I said I'm keeping myself until marriage, but I don’t think it's possible now." You bit your lip, as you fidgeted with the handle of your cup, "Because I'm going to be wed to someone I didn't know."
He raises his brows at your statement, "That practice still exists today?"
"Yes, it still does." You begin to explain the outline of the story. "My family came from a community that still holds an orthodox belief. My parents aren't conservative, but they can't escape the tradition either. When they told me about the engagement, I begged them to call it off, yet they asked me to go with it. But I don't want that. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage." Your eyes shift as you hold back tears, "I know that they love me, if they don't, I won't be here. Away from home."
You quickly wipe your cheek before you continue, "The man who'll be my husband is highly respected in the community, but he's at the same age as my mother. I don't know why he asked for my hand, we barely talked. But for the last few months, he began to send me gifts. It's customary for a suitor to give the girl presents as a way of courting. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details."
He waits for you to gather your thoughts, before you start again.
"To be a bride, it's common for a girl to go through a ceremony, to see if the girl is suitable for marriage. I have to fulfill all of certain criteria to be recognized as a proper fiancée." You snort when you mention it, "Ky, you're a smart person, you must've known what that means."
He crosses his arms when you subtly ask him to make the conclusion. "If you fail the virginity test, then you're ineligible to be a bride."
"There are other factors that can annul the engagement, but yes, purity is the most important aspect for the bride to have." You stated, "If I fail that test, then I can be free from the custom."
"Won't you be shamed for… not being pure?" He carefully asked.
"Yes, but It's better than the other option."
You went quiet after the confession, as if you've retreated back to your shell.
He gazes at you long and closely, while a sense of familiarity comes to rest on him. The way you carry yourself reminds him of the old you—who couldn't look him in the eyes when you both were strangers.
"Say," He begins, as he rubs his face, "If I were to help you, what then?"
"Nothing, we can pretend it never happened."
"You know it's not possible, right?" He frowned, "We can't go back like we used to, at least I can't see it that way."
"I know, but I don’t have a lot of choices." You replied with a sigh, "I can never sleep with a stranger, and I can't do it myself either." You told him, "I have to lose it somehow, but I don’t know how. And the reason I asked you this because you seem to have a lot of experience, so—"
You stop when he presses his hand against his lips. While it's impossible to tell if he blushes or not, you swear you see a red tint on his cheeks.
"You're not…?"
He scratches his neck, as he coyly replies, "My ma raised me well, (Name). Of course I'd save myself before marriage."
"Oh—" You cover your mouth in shock, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked you—"
"It's alright." He smiles, "How much time you have left until the ceremony?"
"About a month." You answered.
"I'll help you then." He said with such ease, that it made you stare at him wide-eyed, "But let me take you to a date first."
"What," You gulped, "What do you—Why? I thought… you said no…?"
"I hate seeing you like this, and I don't want you to resort to one night stand." He told you, "Besides, you didn't force me into this."
"But I did make you sympathize with me." You shook your head, "That's why you changed your mind."
"I said no because I knew you're saving yourself for marriage."
"But you said that you did too."
"That makes us even then." He tilts his head, "I'll take yours, and you'll take mine."
You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of it. Not because you're at loss for words, rather, you have too many questions in your head.
"You can decide how many dates we'll go before you decide if you want to do it." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, "How's that sound?"
Although you're still unsure at that time, you can't help but nod at the offer.
The first time he takes you on a date, it's on Sunday, 07:20 PM, at an independent cinema. He phoned you earlier, telling you that they're going to play an old romantic film.
"I thought you like mystery?"
"Yeah, but you wouldn't pick that on the first date." He grins, "Besides, the movie has Binoche in it."
By the time you arrive at the cinema, you spot him talking to another man by the ticket booth. He turns his head when he hears your call, before the other man leans to the side to see you.
"You're early." You told him.
"I could say the same to you." He said with a smile, "The movie's starting in 10, c'mere."
He extends his hand towards you, and you take it with a little bit of apprehension.
The man whistles when he drapes his arm around your shoulders, "I see ya bringing a date tonight."
"Yeah," He turned to you, "Ain't she pretty?"
His friend chuckles when your face turns red, "Can't argue with that."
"Well, we'll talk later. I'm gonna show her around for a bit." He gives the man a pat on his arm, "You still have that shrine of yours?"
"'Course!" He warmly retorted, "Wouldn't close it for ya."
He mutters something back to him, and the man gives him a thumb up. When the two of you part with him, you ask him about the shrine.
"It's just a room full of merchs." He explains, "He's a movie fanatic, so when he liked a film, he'd find any of the collectibles."
"Like graphic t-shirts?"
"More than that." He grins, "You'll see."
At the end of the hall, there's a door smaller than the theater one. He opens it for you, and guides you inside.
The room is roughly the size of a humble apartment, but it's filled with many posters and other things you have to see up close to know what they are. Your eyes scan the movie posters that are mounted on the wall, before you turn to a doll. It's a porcelain doll, adorned with old-fashioned clothes. You lift the little paper beneath it and begin to read.
"It's from 'Interview With The Vampire'." You hear him say, "It's one of the collections that he's proud of."
"I've seen that movie years ago." You murmured, while tracing the edge of the paper with your finger, "I didn't understand what the story was about, until I read the book."
"You read the novel?"
You nod, "I still read it from time to time. Oh, would you look at that." He turns his gaze towards the spot you point at, "Didn't we watch that movie together?"
"Mulholland Drive?" He rubs his chin, "Didn't you say you hate it?"
"Well, I did. But it's been stuck in my head since then." You turn on your heel and skim through the titles of the posters, "I see a lot of foreign movies but not french." You commented, "Isn't he a movie fanatic?"
"He is. Just not a hypocritical one." He replied, "He told me that many of the French directors are lecherous, and they like to put their fantasies into their movies. Guess what caused them to earn a good rating?"
"I don't know, affinity bias?"
"Precisely." He grins, "He likes a few French films though, like Plein Soleil, Amélie, Playtime,"
"Léon?" You smirk.
"He'd berate you if you ever mentioned that name in front of him."
You laugh at his playful warning, "I think I like him."
"Too bad, he already has a wife." He circles his arm around you, "Why don't I introduce you to someone else?"
You roll your eyes at him, as you're so used to hearing those words.
"Yeah, his name is Kyle Garrick, and he's currently single."
"Come on, you loved it the first time you heard it."
"Well, I did laugh at it, but it's getting old." You jest as you poke in his ribs, "Try something else, and maybe I'll fall for it."
And he gives you a response that gets you burst into a laughing fit. You shove him away as you retort back, ignoring the quiet tension that begins to hang in the air.
When the two of you enter the theater, he places his hand on your back as he guides you to your seat. Though it's just a small gesture, it sends a warm feeling to your stomach.
He settles down beside you, and his arm brushes against yours. The seats are quite broad compared to the commercial cinema, but still, there's not much space left between you and him. You try not to think about it too much, as you rest your hand on the same armrest as his.
The opening of the film with the scenery of a small town, before it shows the greetings between churchgoers and the neatly dressed gentleman. It then cuts to a standing crowd, who begins their worship with singing. You frown when you listen to the narrator, as she portrays the minds of the villagers as singular. As the hymn comes to an end, the parishioners bend down to sit on the pews, before the pastor climbs up to give a sermon. The colors of the scene contrasts with the next bit, as it cuts to two figures in the middle of the snow. The figures are covered with red hoods that they hold tightly as they walk against the wind.
The movie soon changes right after the wind blows the church door open. It focuses on the two figures earlier—a mother, and a daughter, as they begin to settle down at their new house.
Scene after scene, the narratives begin to blur into one, and you let yourself be immersed into the flow of the film. Instinctively, your body leans forward as you watch the chocolate and the store begin to take form. Yet in doing so, you missed the look your friend gave.
When the first conflict happens, you can't help but show your dislike towards the man—the well-dressed man from the beginning. But it soon dissipates when the woman invites her guest inside.
They talk for a little while, and the way she—her guest behaves, the clumsiness that she shows—that makes her look like a cornered cat, it almost looks surreal, as if you're watching yourself from the future scope. You press your hand against your lips, as the crease between your eyes deepens.
Perhaps it's just the right moment, or perhaps your thoughts spill over into his, that he decides to push your head gently onto his shoulder.
You were taken aback by the gesture, but you welcomed it. You murmur something to him, as you wrap your hand around his arm.
"What?" He asked in a low tone.
"Nothing." You told him while hiding your smile.
Kyle Garrick. You wonder if kind has always been his middle name. If it's not kind, then it must be thoughtful. It must be nice, to receive such affection from a man like him. In the midst of thoughts cartage, you begin to ponder, if it's alright for you to keep them from someone who's more deserving.
At the end of the movie, you slip your hand from his arm, as you stand up from your seat. You still remember the way he understands, and doesn't push further. He keeps the rest of the night in a lighthearted mood, though his hand lingers on you a little longer, and his gaze doesn't stray further from you, even just a little bit.
That night, you lay down on your bed with your thoughts as your lullaby. It doesn't help you sleep, but it does keep you company for the night.
The next day, you ask him if he's free on Friday.
It's curious how fast he responded back, considering that he still got jobs to do, particularly reports. When you read the message, you bite your lips as you type a new one.
'Wanna have dinner together?'
A new chat pops up in a second.
'Sure'
And another one after.
'When?'
'Today' You reply, 'Takeouts?'
'Let me cook for ya'
And it's settled.
When you show up on his doorstep, he opens it up the first time you ring the bell.
"Hey," He greets you with a grin, and you notice a red stain on his shirt, "Come in."
"Smells good." You commented as you stepped in, "What are you cooking?"
"Bolognese." He replied, "I haven't decided on the pasta yet. What do you want? Pappardelle or spaghetti?"
"Fusilli?" You said, before a smile betrays your lie, "Anything's fine, really."
"Pick a color then. Yellow or blue?"
"Yellow."
"Pappardelle then."
You thought it's just a random decider, until you saw the color of the packaging.
"Guess you're used to people who say it's up to you." You remarked while you climbed on the bar stool.
"You can say that." He chuckles as he drops the pasta into the pot.
"Were they your dates?"
"Pshh, no. Just my little brothers and sister. You know the story."
"I know." You trailed off and looked away, "But you must've had those moments in your dates."
"Like what you did earlier?" He smirks and you groan at him.
"Come on, you know I'd never complain about your choice."
"I know, that's why I like you."
"You always say that."
The conversation ends with a quiet chuckle, as he goes back to watch over the boiling water. You sense a reply from him that should be laid bare, but he left it at surmise.
"Dinner's ready." He announced, as he lifted up the plates from the counter. You follow him to the dining table, and you pull a seat while he places the dishes on the table.
As the two of you dig in, you quietly bite on the broad pasta. You might not be aware of it, but you always chew on your food longer when you're preoccupied with your mind.
You hear his voice as you snap out of your thoughts, but not clear enough for you to grasp.
"What?"
"It's alright if you wanna back down." He repeated, as he swirled the pasta with his fork, "I agreed to help you because you asked me to, but I know it might make things awkward between us, so."
"Oh, that's not—it's not about that, it's just," You chewed on your lip, "It's just that, when I think about you, I can't help but think that… I'll end up stealing something from you." You shook your head, "You could wait for the right person, you're not obligated to help me—"
"Well, I want to."
"I know, that's why I feel bad because I knew you wouldn't hesitate to help." You frown, "You're too kind for me, Ky. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get the wrong idea."
You almost jump when he holds your hand, and witness the fortitude that reflects in his eyes. "Go ahead then, go on and get the wrong idea. Because it might be true after all."
The way he said it—with a clear, unmistakable voice, drags you into silence. You can't find the words to say, nor the right response for his statement. While you're not entirely sure about the truth, you can see the trace of it on his face.
Your throat begins to tighten, and you try to swallow down whatever's in the way.
You know that he's hopeful that you'd give him some kind of clarity, but you don't. You couldn't.
After the dinner, you don’t extend your visit as you excuse yourself from staying.
"Let me take you home."
You shake your head, "I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
You shoot him a smile, "Yes, don't worry about me."
He seems hesitant for a moment, but it disappears the moment you pull him into a hug.
"I'll call you when I'm home."
He picks up the phone at the second ringtone, and asks you if you're home. You give an affirmative answer, before the line turns silent.
The words that had wrapped around your throat came back to the surface. They beg to be let out of your tongue, but you bite them down. Not now. Not yet.
The call ends not long after, as you both say goodnight. As you sit down on the vanity stool, you look at the reflection of you in the mirror. It's the shape that you've known so well, and yet, you don't recognize it at the same time. Has your face already been like this? Is this what he always sees whenever you're around?
Absent-mindedly, you reach up to touch your lips. What would you taste like, if he ever kissed you?
Unfortunately, you can only imagine for now.
Four days would pass, and you soon find yourself waiting for the bell. He had messaged you earlier, telling you that he'll pick you up at your place.
The destination of your date is still unknown, since you only asked him to take you to somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can talk without the presence of curious ears. Of course, the first thought that came to your mind is the privacy of your home, but he got another idea, and kept it as a surprise.
"Bring a jacket with you." He told you on the phone, "You might need it."
But you don't know how cold it'll be, so you stick with a cardigan.
When he gets to your place, he doesn't ring the bell. Instead, you hear your phone rings, before a honk of a car announces his arrival. You walk out of your place and lock the door behind.
"Where are we going?" Is the question you asked him after you got into his car.
"You'll find out." He replied with a grin.
He doesn't give you any clue, other than the paper bag on the back seat. He also told you that it's a one-hour drive, so it's alright if you want to rest your eyes.
"I'm fine." You said, as you turned on the radio.
The ride is predominantly filled with songs, and the occasional chat between you and him.
On the other day, you either wouldn't stop talking, or you'd sit in comfortable silence. But that morning, both options seem unreachable.
"I'm sorry." You uttered quietly.
"What?"
"Sorry that I dragged you into this." You muse, "And I'm sorry that I made such a big deal out of it. I made things worse, didn't I?"
"Why'd you say that?"
"Because things have already changed between us, even when we haven't done anything."
"You think so?"
"Yes," You divulged, "When you said those things, I couldn't help but think that maybe you really meant it. But then again, you never told me anything before. Anything that could… indicate something."
"Are you sure?" You frown at his reply, "Think again, (Name)."
"What—?"
The car comes to a halt, and you snap your head towards the window. The usual view of the city has been replaced with trees. You stare at the board near the entrance, and you notice the words 'National Park' on it.
"We're here." He stated while unbuckling the seat belt.
You soon follow him as you push the door open. The cold air rushes inside, and makes you shiver.
He offers you his hand when you step out of the car. "Let's take a walk."
The trail that he chooses isn't as rough as you thought, and you can easily keep up with his speed. Though you knew that he slowed it down for you.
As you walk by his side, you feel a tug on your hand. It was his hand, and he wrapped it around yours. He smiles when you turn to him, and mutters out the same line he used whenever you're out with him.
"Wouldn't want to lose you here."
And it just clicked. Every piece of the puzzle just falls into the right place, and you begin to see the whole picture. He never changed at all, it was you who's changing.
"You like me."
You feel his hold tightens, before he loosens it up a second after.
"Like is an understatement."
"I'm afraid to use the stronger word."
"I know." He spoke softly, "That's why I never said it."
At the end of the path, a quiet lake waits for the two of you, providing a place for a silent conversation. The water is calm, but the breeze is colder than before. You hug yourself, trying to savor the little warmth that your cardigan provides. It doesn't take seconds before you hear a rustle, and feel yourself wrapped in a parka.
"Told you to bring a jacket." He murmured, as he held the garment for you.
His coat is warm, as if it has absorbed the heat of his skin. Your hands slip into the sleeves, before you roll up the cuffs. You watch his face as he zips up the parka, before he returns your gaze.
Perhaps it's him who leans closer, or it's you who wraps your hands around him first, but in the end, your lips meet with his. The kiss you both share is soft, and filled with longing. It's impossible to tell who's feeling it belongs to, but it envelopes around you like a mist.
When the two of you part, you smile as you murmur against his lips.
"I like you."
He softly chuckles as he cups your face, "I'm glad."
You both recognize the nuance of it, but no one speaks of it louder than a heartbeat.
I like you. What an understatement.
"Why do you like me?"
He lifts his head from the magazine when he hears your question.
"I could tell you all of the reasons, but at the end of the day, I simply like you."
"Really?" You roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying you don't know?"
He lets out a small laugh, while he closes the mag. "Fine, I'll tell you." He begins, "I can't remember when it was, but we're pretty close at that time. We were just talking that night, and you asked me if I chose to be the giver because I felt uncomfortable receiving. I never thought about it, but it made sense. When I said yes, you told me, if I don't learn to receive, then I'd end up hurting other people. Because I denied their affection."
You lift your brows at the recount, "Did I really say that?"
"Yes, but it's not your words that got me the most. It's the way you broke my logic, and helped me see things from a new perspective." He stated, "It felt… nice, to be understood by you." He rubs the nape of his neck, "Well, what about you? Why do you like me?"
"I'm not sure." You pucker your lips, "I think I've always liked you. Because you're thoughtful, and it's something that's easier to say than done."
"Just that?"
"What? You want more?"
"Yeah," He smirked, "Go on."
You look at him long and hard, before you decide, "No."
"Why?"
"I'd say something embarrassing."
"Like what?"
"... I'm not telling."
He jumps on the sofa as he seizes your body. You squeal when he digs his fingers on your waists, and you shout, "Cut it out!"
He chuckles when you try to slap his hand away and fail, "C'mon, tell me." He grins, while his hands don't stop tickling you.
"Stop—I'm not telling—!"
When he had you pinned down, you kicked around to get him off you. Which, unfortunately, ends up knocking the empty glass on the table. You both watch in horror as the glass falls off the surface, and into the floor.
But it doesn't shatter. Instead, it bounces twice, before it rolls in a half circle. When it stops moving, it takes about five seconds before the two of you burst into laughter.
"That's the second time you almost broke it."
"Sorry." You muttered through your giggle, "But whose fault was it?"
"Me." He grinned, before slowly bent down to kiss you.
Just like the other kisses you've shared, it goes on for more than a minute. He gently guides you as he cups your cheeks. Your arms find their way around his neck, and keep him close to you.
He leans his forehead against yours, as he catches his breath. You observed the way his chest rises and falls while you follow the same rhythm. Maybe you soften at the sight of him, or maybe a kiss'd really loosen up someone's tongue, that's why the words fall out of your mouth so easily.
"I like your kisses."
He raises his head as he turns his gaze on you. "Was that the thing you're embarrassed to admit?"
You give his shoulder a punch.
"Hey." He retorted with a chuckle, "'M just kidding."
He presses his lips on your cheek, before he lays down on your side. You shift your body to give him space, and settle your head on his arm, while the other one is wrapped around you.
"Comfy?"
You nod, "You're warm."
"Glad to be your heater."
You bury your face into his chest as you giggle.
"I just wish you're portable," You jest, "So I could use you whenever I'm cold."
"Who says I'm not portable?"
"Well, you can't be with me 24/7."
"Careful what you wish for." He smirked.
You raise your brow at him, "Is that a warning?"
"Maybe."
"Mmm," You rested your finger on your chin, "Didn't sound like one."
"Really?" He teases, "Then you won't mind if I keep you here for the night."
"I'm busy tomorrow, so no." You hold your chuckle when you see him pout, "But I'm free next weekend, you can keep me until Monday if you want."
A glint of mischief crosses his eyes, as he pulls you into a kiss.
"I can't wait."
But waiting doesn't feel longer than you expect, since you meet him for dinner almost everyday. If one of you couldn't make it, you both would be on the call that night.
Talking has been a part of your relationship, even when the two of you still carried the friends title. You could talk with him for hours, and bring up every topic into it. Doesn't matter how random or strange. But there was a line that you both couldn't cross, something that kept the two of you in circles. And you thought it'd stay that way, until you stepped into the other side.
It's a wonder how a familial issue could push your relationship to this point, since you wouldn't think twice about him for the sake of friendship. Now that you've crossed the line, you have nothing to hide from him.
While it might be a good thing, it also leads you to unknown territories. When you're with him, you can no longer ignore the tension that fills the room. Any time that he kissed you, or held you tight in his arms, you couldn't help but think if this would be it. This would be the right time for it. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask.
Maybe that's the reason why—after the 2:01:31 mark on the call, you bring up the obvious question to light.
"Y'know Ky," You start, "I don't have much experience with sex, and neither do you. So how exactly are we gonna do it?"
The line goes silent for a moment, before you hear him draw a breath in. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"
"No—I mean, yes. But that's not my point." You sigh, "I just—I don't know, I feel like I need to learn about it before getting to the act."
There's a subtle hint of a rustle that you could only guess coming from the papers, "It'll definitely help if we do some research beforehand."
"But where do we start?" You asked, "Porn?"
"I wouldn't recommend that. It's… unrealistic."
"What then? 'A guide to sex' book? 'Sex for dummies'?"
You catch the sound of his chuckle from the speaker. "Only grandmas would read that."
"I would read that if it helps me prepare."
He hums, and your ear picks up the sound of clink, like a metal is placed against a wood. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How far have you gone with your partner in the past?"
You hum as you think back, "I think I stopped at heavy petting. I was in high school back then and I was curious. But it hurted, and I was bleeding after the session." You snort when you recall the moment, "Of course I freaked out, but when I secretly tested myself out, I found that I'm still a virgin. I could only guess that he tore something with his nail. That's why I bled."
"I see."
"What about you?" You asked, "How far have you gotten with it?"
"Same as you." He responded, "Fingering, oral, hand job, all the foreplay stuff."
You bite your lip as you hear his tone becomes heavier with each word, something that you notice whenever you dive into a risky topic.
"Should we give it a try?"
There's a pause from the other side of the call, before you receive a reply. "You sure you want it?"
"Yes." You breathe out, "We gotta start somewhere."
Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, as you wait for him to answer.
"Alright." He mused, and you felt the warmth creeping up from your lower belly. "Is the plan still on?"
"What plan?"
"You staying over for the weekend?"
You smile against the phone as you reply, "Of course."
"I'll be waiting then."
Friday evening, you arrive at his door with a bag of clothes and other necessities. When the bell rings, it takes about three seconds before the door swings open.
He greets you in the usual manner, except this time he speaks in a softer tone.
"Hey." He smiles upon seeing you, "Come in."
He steps aside when you walk in, before he takes the bag from your hand. You mutter a small 'thank you', and wait for him in the living room while he puts your things aside.
"You want something to drink?" He offered, but you shook your head.
"I'm fine."
You watch him come near you, before he bends down to his knees. You raise your brows when he tugs your hand towards him, and presses a kiss onto your palm.
"Can we talk?"
"About what?" You asked.
"Your boundaries." He squeezed your hand gently, "What's your preferences, what you're not comfortable with,"
"Oh." You look down to your lap to hide your blush, "I don't have any preference yet, I think." You shrug, "I have to experience it to know what I like or dislike, but I think I'm fine with everything you do. Just… don't treat me rough, because I don't think I can handle it."
"Wouldn't dream of hurting you." He pecks on your cheek. "Come,"
You stand from your seat as he pulls you up, and your body follows him naturally as he drags you with him. As he closes the bedroom door behind, your heart leaps when he lifts you up with his arms to kiss you. Your legs wrap around his waist, while you keep your hands on his chest.
When he lays you down on the bed, you push his body away for a little as you mumble, "My, aren't you eager."
He observes your face before he chuckles, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."
You moan when he presses his kiss on your neck, and you feel his hand slip under your garment. Soon, the elastic band of your underwear is dragged down on your skin, and you instinctively close your thighs together.
"Let me taste you, (Name)."
He tugs your pants down until they reach your ankles, he takes his time to unhook them from your feet, before pushing your legs apart. You call his name as a protest, but any attempt to cover yourself from him is useless.
"Ky—" You stare at him wide-eyed as he lowers his head to your core, to the point that you can feel his breath against your labia. Your body tenses up when he gets the first taste of you, before he buries his tongue into your core.
"Tell me if I hurt you." He told you, and waited until you nodded to continue.
You gasp when he presses his tongue against your clit—not out of pleasure, but foreign feeling as the rough texture of his tongue latches on your nub. Your hand shoots up to grab his hair, while your legs clamp on his head. He grunts when you squirm away, and links his arms around your thighs to keep you still.
At first, you only feel a strange sensation every time his tongue swipes against your bundle of nerves, but soon it builds up into a familiar surge. Warmth begins to spread from your lower region, and you muffle a moan when he flicks his tongue on your sensitive clit.
"Ky—!" You hissed when it hit the right spot, "Keep going—"
Your hips bucks involuntarily as he sucks on the swelling bud, it sends an electricity through your body, before his lips detach from you. You whine at the loss of contact, but it doesn't take a second before his elastic muscle returns to its previous place.
The grip on his hair tightens as he picks up the pace, and soon the pleasure starts to coil inside your stomach. Your brows are knitted as you focus on his tongue, chasing after the high that's been hanging in front of you. It's not until you tilt your hips, that you finally reach it.
You cry out as your back arches, your eyes snap open as the wave of pleasure hits you. It was different, more satisfying than what you did on lonely nights. As you slowly come down, your body relaxes under his touch.
When he reaches up to kiss you, you chuckle as you taste yourself from his lips. "And you told me you're a virgin." You mused.
"I don't need to lose it to be good at oral."
You roll your eyes and hold him off by his chest, "Yeah right."
He seems taken aback when you push him to the side, before straddling him between your legs. Your hands work on his pants, as you loosen up the drawstring. "What are you doing?" He muttered out.
"Returning the favor." You replied with a smirk, while you tugged down his pants.
You've seen the outline of his member when he's still dressed, but now that you strip him off, you finally get the full view of it.
You sense his gaze on you as you stare at his cock. Your hand reaches out to touch the tip, and it twitches under your fingertips.
"Are you just gonna stare?"
"Patience." You shot him a teasing look, "I was just admiring."
He props himself up to watch you bend down, taking his length into your mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you slowly drag your tongue along the shaft. Your fingers wrap around his base, and begin to give it a pump.
His breath becomes shallower with each stroke of your hand, while you wrap your lips around his cock. The tip feels hot on your tongue, as if it's filled with impatience. He groans as you sink your mouth deeper, "Keep going, baby."
You perk up at the nickname he used, but it needs to wait before you can bring it up to him, since your mouth is occupied at the moment.
He places a hand on your head, and runs his fingers through your hair before they settle on your crown. You grunt when he begins to rock his hips gently, while his hand gives you no room to pull back. He's careful enough not to push too deep, but he still overwhelms you.
"That's it—" He panted, brows knitted together as he focused on you. "Fuck—"
His heavy breath, his gentle grip on your hair send warmth through your body. It's not the first time you've done this, but it's the only time you felt desired. He's eager, but he's careful at the same time. He doesn't rush things, he fixates on the moment instead. When you place your hand on his thigh, he slows down as he loosens up his grip on you.
"You alright?"
You nod before you pull away from him.
"I want to ride you."
His brows are raised as you climb on top of him, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He takes a sharp breath when your core touches the base of his member, leaving a wet trail as you grind on him. You hear a quiet groan from his sighs, and it becomes heavier each time you pick up the pace.
You bite your lip as you feel your core throb at the sight beneath you. The way his head digs into the pillow, half-lidded eyes and panting, and the way his muscles tense as he chases after pleasure. His hands settle on your waists, keeping you from moving too far from the right spot. Your breath comes out as a huff when the friction starts to get to you. It almost feels real, as if he's really inside you.
"I'm close." He chokes out a moan, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. "(Name)—"
Your lips curl into a grin when you hear the urgency in his voice. You lean down to kiss him, and he eagerly returns the favor. You grunt against his mouth, as you struggle to move with his arms wrapped tightly around you. But he doesn't seem to mind the erratic pace, since his hips move on its own.
His body shudders and he throws his head back as he groans, loud enough that you can feel his chest rumble through your palms. His member twitches against your core, spilling the white release onto both of your and his clothes. It takes a moment for him before he registers your lips on his neck, which he tilts his head and leans his cheek against yours.
"That was…"
"Good?" You grinned as you gave him a kiss.
"Great. Amazing. Ten out of ten." He chuckles, "Are you sure you're a virgin?"
You playfully pinch his cheek while you laugh, "Shut up."
He shoots you a coy smile, before he gently rolls you down with him on the bed.
"We should take a bath."
"Later." He muttered, wrapping one arm around you.
"Come on." You protested while tugging his hand off you, "We can cuddle after that."
"Fine," He lets you go, "Let's take a shower."
And he said it in a not-so-innocent voice.
The two of you end up prolonging the bath time, as he's taking you for a second round. If he's eager the first time, the second time must be worse. Since he's got the taste of it. You knew that he's exceptional, that he's a quick-learner, but you didn't expect it'd apply to sex as well.
The thing is, you never came with fingers alone. But when he cornered you in the shower, knuckles-deep in your core, he had you screaming as the sweet shock from the orgasm went through your body. He doesn't give you much of a break, as he bends you down until your ass touches his hip. You gasp in horror when you feel the tip of his dick against your drenched hole, he teasingly rubs himself on your labia, before it slips down to your clit.
He had your thighs pressed together, which made the friction even stiffer. You groan as he begins to thrust, hitting your throbbing bud everytime without mercy. He pins both of your wrists against the wall with one hand, while he keeps your body still with the other. It's almost unfair how strong he is to hold you down like this, and how cruel he is to tease you as he whispers dirty words into your ear. By the time you come, you have no energy left, even for standing.
He catches you right before your legs give up, holding you up while he sneaks a hand under the back of your thighs. You yelp when he props you up in his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom.
You land on the bed with a bounce, and receive no privilege to get up as he holds your legs together, before placing them against his shoulder. The color in your face is drained the moment his length rests on your thigh, fervent and heavy.
"I hope you're not tired yet," He grins, and you swear you see horns growing from his head the moment he says it, "Because I'm nowhere done with you."
Kyle Fucking Garrick.
You take back what you said about his middle name. It's not kind or thoughtful, it's fucking Prick.
It should've been obvious to you, after all the gossip you heard from your friends about him. Something that you thought as a baseless fact, a Lavater-physiognomy type of bullshit, but somehow they got it right. He's not as innocent as you defended him to be. He is freaky, and he's good at keeping it a secret.
After he exhausted you the night before, he decided that the best way to wake you up was with his mouth. Your clit was already swollen from yesterday's activity, and he abused it again in the morning. You stirred in your sleep, before your eyes snapped open at the sharp tug on your sensitive bud.
"G'mornin'." He greeted you the moment you woke up, still disoriented. "How's your sleep?"
You narrowed your eyes, as you tried to turn your vision focused. "Wha—" You slurred.
"Shh." He pushed you down to the bed, while his hand worked its way to your fold. "Let me take care of you, baby."
And thus you started your day with an orgasm.
Of course it's only the beginning, since it's him that you're talking about. He could make you faint in the bathroom if you didn't lock the door behind, and he could certainly numb your mind with his fingers if you didn't cut two apples for breakfast. But once you ran out of excuses, you're pretty much doomed.
While you knew he'd stop right away if you told him so, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because once he puts his hand on you, you just melt. The irritation that you carry in mind dissolves the moment he wraps you in his arms, and every curse you hold on your tongue comes out as a whimper, as his mouth latches onto your nape.
It's a game of self-will, and he plays it underhandedly. You both know what you want, but no one speaks of it, no one takes the initiative. You grit your teeth as frustration begins to take over you. It's pretty clear he wants you to say it, with the excuse that it's yours to decide. But he lures you with sweet words, and waves your much-needed release in front of you. Close enough for you to see, but far away from your reach.
And finally, after three neglected orgasms, you swallow your ego and beg. "Please Ky—" You cried out, "Please, just fuck me—"
His hand ceases to move, as he pulls it out of your sopping core. You whine at the loss of contact, before he muffles it with his kiss.
The trip to his bedroom is quite messy, with a lot of thrown clothes and sloppy kisses. When you find yourself on his bed again, you crawl up to give him some space. He follows after you, and presses his lips against yours with impatience. Faintly, you hear the sound of a wrapper being ripped, before he pulls away to roll down the rubber on his length.
He comes back to your side, locking his lips with yours again, while he slots his hips between your legs. Your hands find the purchase on his back as you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin the moment you feel his tip against your hole.
A gasp escapes your lips when he pushes himself in, stretching your pussy open with his dick.
"Shit, you're too tight." He hissed, as your walls tightened around his glans.
Your face contorts in pain, as he tries to squeeze himself deeper.
"No good." He mused, pulling himself out of you. You whimper as your hole clenches around nothing. "On your side, baby."
He gently rolls you to the side, sliding his arm below your head as he lays behind you. He places a hand under your cheek, and guides your lips back to his. You wince when you feel the nudge against your core, before it slowly sinks deeper into you.
It doesn't hurt much, compared to what you endured earlier. But it still stings, and you smack your palm against his hip when he begins to thrust. "Ky—" You moaned against his lips, gripping onto his skin as you felt yourself stuffed to the brim.
"Just a little more, baby." He places a kiss on your shoulder, while his hands find their way to wrap around your body. "Just a little more."
No words could form in your tongue, as your mouth snaps open at the steady thrust of his cock. It was slow, torturous, and left you wondering if you've underestimated his size.
But it soon comes to a stop, as his lower stomach touches the curve of your bottom. Your heart is beating against your chest, and you try to catch your breath while he showers you with kisses. The push of his hips comes to a halt, and you take it as a chance to rest. You lean your head back to his shoulder, giving him access to your neck, which he soon decorates with love marks.
"You alright?" He murmured, tenderly stroked your arm.
You hum as an answer. "You can move now."
"You sure?"
"Yes." You breathe out, "Please."
You sense a hesitation in his touch, before he presses a kiss on your temple.
"Tell me if it hurts."
You nod, giving his forearm a squeeze as a reassurance.
He shifts your body closer to him, readjusting the position to make it more comfortable. You raise your head a bit while he moves, before he guides you back to his arm. A grunt escapes your lips the moment he drags his member out, before he thrusts it back in. Your core flutters around him, as the numbness slowly fades into pleasure.
Perhaps your body is still sensitive from all the teasing he did, but you can't deny that he's good. Every stroke of his cock just hits right, as it grazes you in the place where his fingers couldn't reach. You grip his arm when you feel his pace quickens, filling the room with the wet slaps of the skins. And when his tip nudges the tender part of you, your body reacts in a way you don't expect.
He seems to notice it, as he lifts his head up to see your face. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear, and you yelped when he snapped his hips against yours.
"Oh God—" You scrabble at his body, trying to find something to grab on. "Do that again."
"Gladly."
A warning comes up to your throat, before it dies down as soon as he moves. You squirm against his strong grip, digging your nails into his thigh like a claw machine. When his cock grazes the right spot within you, you cry out a strangled moan. And the second time he does it, the suspicions you had in mind are all erased. He's no longer teasing you, because now he really intends to make you scream.
When he rolls on top of you, you feel your legs being spread apart with his knees. Stretching your pussy open for him to go deeper. With him on top of you, and your stomach flat on the bed, you have no room to crawl away.
His hand snakes around your shoulder, propping you up into a half-arched position. A whimper comes out of your mouth the moment he slams himself into you, while his lips are busy with your neck. Niping and sucking on your reddening skin. Your hand reaches up to the back of his head, gripping the curls of his hair as you moan.
"I'm close." You hissed, "Kyle—"
"I know, baby." He presses a kiss on your nape, "I know."
He raises your hips slightly, before slipping his hand between your thighs. Your body jerks when he touches your clit, rubbing it in a circle motion. The fact that it's already swollen doesn't help you either.
"Ky!" You claw his hand in panic, "I can't—I can't—"
"You can." He grunted against your ear, "Let it go, baby."
Your grip on his wrist tightens, as every muscle in your body tenses up. You could barely hold it when he fucked you slow, and now with his finger on your clit, you just break.
A loud cry fills the room as you come. Hard. Your eyes roll up, hands gripping tightly on the sheet until your fists turn pale. And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, until you gasped for air. Which comes in the form of short and trembling puffs. The moment of bliss and numbness only descends for short seconds, before you realize he's still inside you.
The burning sensation in your core comes back to you, although weaker than before. You whimper against the sheet, as he prolongs the high you just reached. His fingers no longer slotted between your folds, as they move to grip your waist. In daze, you begin to wonder when it'll end. Until you feel a shudder from the body on top of you, and a strangled moan falls from his mouth.
He rests his head on you, catching a breath, before he slowly rolls down to the side. You watch him as he wearily pulls off the condom, and throws it aside.
The two of you lay down still, mustering the energy that's left after the laborious session. Although you doubt if it's the same case for him, since he has no trouble getting up to fetch the tissue box.
As he wipes himself off, you mutter out with a low voice, "You've ruined me for other men."
He turns his head to you, before a grin spreads on his face. "Already thought about leaving?"
You know from his tone that he's not serious, but neither of you can carry the usual banter. At least not now.
"You know what I mean." You mused.
His face softens, as he bends down to kiss you. "I know."
You smile against his lips, and carefully shift your body until you lay on your back. He climbs on top of you, planting each arm on your side as he latches his lips on yours. You reach up to cup his face, pulling him closer as you part your lips, giving his tongue the access to dive into your mouth deeper. The two of you relish in each other's taste, before you feel something on your thigh.
"You're hard." You let slip what you saw, and he flushed.
"Sorry." He rubbed his neck, "You just… turn me on."
You observe his face for a moment, noting how he avoids your eyes whenever he's shy. His expression, and his candid confession set something in you, as you feel the warmth in your lower belly.
"I think we can go one more time."
"Aren't you tired?"
"A little." You replied, "But it's nothing I can't handle."
His eyes search into yours for a second, before he gives in.
"Alright." He uttered, "Let me grab the condom."
Now that you've gotten the taste of it, you can understand why sex is often called forbidden apple. Because once you put your teeth to it, you can't go back to what you're used to. No more friendly cuddles, and no more innocent kisses that won't lead to something.
While it's easy to get swept up in the new pastime, you can't help but worry. As a lot of 'what if's fill your thoughts. You never doubt him, no. But you'll never know what the future's like. For you and him.
One day, when the two of you lounge on the couch—with your head on his chest, as it rises and falls in a slowing rhythm, you divulge a question that's been eating you up.
"What if it doesn't work?" You brood, "What if he still wants to marry me despite of everything?"
You watch the subtle change in his face as he meets your gaze. "Do you want me to come along?"
"No," You muse, "It'll make things worse."
He hums, "Have you talked to your parents?"
"... No." You looked away, as you chewed on your lip. "No, I haven't."
"I think you should." He gives your arm a squeeze, "Talk to them, maybe they'll help you."
"They didn't help me at all." You said bitterly.
"You wouldn't know that, (Name)." He let out a quiet sigh, "Parents don't usually tell what they've done for their children. And that could be the case with yours."
"They didn't stop the engagement."
"Maybe they couldn't." He replied, "Hey, look at me." He gently pulls you to face him, "I know it's hard for you, and I can't imagine how you feel about it. But your parents love you, you said it yourself." He reassured you, "Maybe they didn't stop it because they're powerless, but they knew that you'd find a way out. After all, they're the one who told you about the ceremony, right?"
While you're still frowning at him, you begin to soften up in his hold. "... Yeah, they did." You muttered.
"They knew that you're against it and you'd deliberately failed one of the tests, so they just told you what to do and what you shouldn't. It's their way to tell you which one to break, and which one you should keep in mind." He sighs, "And I hate to say it, but I'd do the same if it's the only choice I have."
Though his words have put you at ease, you can't help but sense a new doubt entering your mind. "Will they… will they be okay if I fail the test? Won't it give them a bad name?"
"I think it's the risk they're willing to take." He smiled softly, "Talk to them, (Name). You need it."
You follow his advice two days later.
You've been mulling over the talk for days, going through all of the possibilities over and over again in your mind. You've prepared for a whole speech, but it all disappears once you hear their voices. Just like that, all of your thought falls from your mouth, as they flow out like a stream.
There's a lot of talking, a lot of 'sorry's, and maybe a few of tears. But in the end, you feel better.
As the conversation slips into a mundane, but comfortable chat, you slip his name between your life update. Though you have your doubts about it, it's worth telling in spite of all.
"You should introduce him to us." Your mother chirped, "Bring him with you the next holiday, I want to meet the lucky fellow."
You chuckle as you tell her alright, but no promise.
Four days later, on the evening at the airport, you reach up to kiss him before you say the words. You almost laugh at how easy it was, to say such words with such ease. And he'd laugh with you, if he wasn't struck by it.
"I thought you're afraid to use that word."
"Not anymore." You said with a smile, "Not with you."
He seems confounded for a moment, before he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.
"I hope you won't regret it, because I'll say that to you everyday from now on."
"Well, why don't you start now?"
You both chuckle, before he wraps his hands around you and pulls you into another kiss.
"I love you, (Name).
"Come home to me soon."
232 notes · View notes
abbysimsfun · 2 months ago
Text
Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 153 (Time For a Gender Reveal Party!)
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On a rainy Saturday, Heather and Conrad were joined by friends and family for a gender reveal party in Brindleton Bay. Ash had hoped for a younger brother, but Lavender wanted a sister, and a gender reveal was a nice opportunity to bring loved ones together before they were busy at home with a newborn.
Plans to hold the party at Pupperstone Park with the pets were rained out, but Suri graciously allowed the Gordons to gather at the Salty Paw. She even agreed to let Daisy, who wanted to make a cake for the party, use her kitchen.
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When Felix and Lilith arrived, Ash had to wait for his grandmother, Daisy, to gush over them for what they'd done to save him in Sulani. But after the legacy founder had showered them with gratitude, Ash placed what he'd made on the wooden bar. Using specs for an electronic upgrade part Lilith had ordered online, Ash designed a cardboard mock-up of the time travel component using plathinum, ironyum, and the shards, but he didn't have the tools to make it himself.
"I couldn't have drawn up these plans and designs, but I took welding in high school," said Lilith. "These are definitely easy enough to follow, and Emit's still around hanging out with my sister if we need more help back in Britechester."
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Felix and Lilith were as loved up as ever. Even the truth of Felix's connection to Lilith's great-great-grandmother in his past life couldn't break them. He still had the ring, plotting the perfect way to propose, but today, at a celebration for their friends' baby, wasn't it.
Lilith even offered to mix drinks so Hazel or Suri wouldn't have to, happy to work on mixology skill left mostly dormant since college.
(Since the event didn't give us a tangible time travel device, I "made one" using the in-game icon. Janky or not, it's better than nothing! Also, I just missed him walking up to Lilith for an autonomous kiss, hence the awkward shot. Boo!)
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Hazel was happy to let the Salty Paw serve as party central, but she refused to guess a gender even as Suri dipped into the buckets for a pair of pink shades. "I just don't know what's so important about declaring gender before the kid's even born. I know it's just a fun tradition, but I don't look good in glasses, anyway."
Heather smiled. "Don't worry about it. I know you'll love the baby the same no matter what. But Lavender, I really worry about. She doesn't want another brother at all."
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The party was ostensibly for Lavender's benefit - the only one who truly cared whether or not she'd get a desired little sister. As such, even though Ash hoped for a brother, he picked pink glasses from the pink and blue bins near the punch bowl, along with both Heather and Conrad, to make her happy.
Heather greeted her dad with a hug, commiserating a moment over the family who couldn't be there. But Heather couldn't complain - Mortimer and Uncle Karl had taken River and Cass with Holly and Kris and all their kids to Willow Creek for a vacation.
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Mortimer wanted to show them around the Goths' ancestral homeland, but he also planned to visit the family archives to look into the Landgraab-Goth connection suggested by the medallion in the jungle. Heather was undoubtedly curious over what they might find. She hoped it might ease her fears about a curse, but, deep down, she suspected otherwise.
Instead of dwelling on her fears, Heather focused on the guests who could make it. In addition to Felix and Lilith, hosts Hazel and Suri, and her parents, Everett and Spencer Pancakes paid a visit from Henford with their youngest, Violet, while their boys were away for a camping trip with school.
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"Jett only went camping because Greyson was with him," Everett told Conrad at the bar. They both remembered their tragic camping trip in early spring, when Jett witnessed the death of Elsa Bjerg-Watson. "He's working with counselors just fine, but there's something he's locked away. He was such a chatty kid before all this, and now he might give you a few sentences. The only thing he talks about with any sense of interest anymore is death and the Reaper. I don't think he understands why Grim wouldn't let you plead."
Outgoing Felix introduced himself to the reverend with a charming smile. "I don't want this to be taken as unsolicited advice, but Lil and I looked at the benefits of moving to Ravenwood, recently, and something in particular might interest him. They host Afterlife Anonymous meetings, but they're for anyone. Not just ghosts, but anyone with questions about death and the afterlife."
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Everett considered the idea and glanced toward the dance floor, where his wife moved to the jukebox with Lavender and their four-year-old daughter. "I'll talk to Spencer before we talk to Jett. I can rarely get away from the parish in Henford, but if it's something Jett needs, we'll make it happen. It's Felix, right? My wife says you were resurrected with ambrosia."
He nodded. "I was. I know some think that goes against the Watcher's design, but..."
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"If the Watcher didn't sanction ambrosia, it wouldn't exist," Everett reasoned. "I had some concerns when the Ambrosia Society promoted their challenge last fall, because too much ambrosia, too many potions of youth, it can lead to overpopulation and corruption. But everything seems to be going well since, and I always trust the Watcher."
On the dance floor, young Violet Pancakes saw Lavender again for the first time since both were less than a year old. Now almost five, the girls chatted about toys and bounced to the music together.
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Bella Goth made an appearance with her only granddaughter, Carina, entertaining the three-month-old while Alex and Lydia spent time with Jagger. "He's feeling a little neglected now he's got a baby sister, so they're off showing him a fun day with their complete attention while I get to play with this princess. I need some innocent cuddle time after Cali Skye came to visit me the other day. I thought I put all that work behind me."
"What did Agent Skye ask you to do, Mrs. Goth?"
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"Oh, nothing much," she said, though Heather felt she wasn't saying everything. "We talked about those milk cartons people are collecting now, and how my face is on one of them. It's a little unnerving, and reminds me that I may never know where I went in the years I was missing, but we had a nice conversation. I just don't like to be reminded of the agency, that's all."
She cooed at dark-eyed Carina, who gazed curiously at Heather when Bella passed her over for a cuddle. "I've got to grab a pair of blue glasses for myself. I'm sure you're having a boy!" she chirped.
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With Bella in the blue camp were Felix, Lilith, and Daisy, but Neal and Suri joined Ash, Heather, and Conrad on Team Pink. No one else went for a pair of glasses, which was fine. The buckets were there for those who wanted to play in solidarity with Lavender, who was too young to wear the shades, herself.
The party guests danced to the jukebox and dined on cake made by Daisy (exactly why I went for the balloon and not the cake-cutting reveal) before Heather and Conrad brought out a tall gold balloon. Once popped, either pink or blue powder would confirm if they were having a girl or a boy, and their guests gathered round in anticipation.
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(Do you see how high Conrad is jumping?! It's amazing!)
Girl guesses outnumbered boy guesses by one (unlike the poll, which saw boy the top choice over girl and spider!), but the burst of blue didn't lie. Baby Gordon would be a boy, and everyone celebrated with noisemakers and confetti.
Conrad and Heather shared a warm embrace. All they cared for was a healthy baby, but this news wasn't unwelcome. Not to them, anyway.
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Lavender, on the other hand, was tired and cranky after finding out she was due another brother. To make matters worse, the sugar high from the cake that sustained her for most of the afternoon had crashed hard. "It's okay, Lava. He'll be a nice brother, like me."
"No!" Lavender cried, stomping her feet and pushing away her brother's attempt at a hug with a kick. "I wanted a sister!"
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"Ow, Lava! Don't kick me!"
Conrad had seen the whole thing and swooped in immediately. "Lavender Helena Gordon, apologize right now for kicking your brother."
"All I'll ever do is apolagize to brothers!" she complained.
"So start right now."
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Her father's stern voice - a rarity at home - gave Lavender pause. She turned to her brother with a quiet apology before digging into some less sugary foods as the party wound down.
"Daddy, I'm not really mad about a brother," she explained after she'd calmed. "I won't be upset when baby brother gets here, I promise."
"It's okay to be disappointed, but it's not okay to be upset enough that you hurt people," explained Conrad. "If you're disappointed, just talk to us. We'll always listen."
Despite Lavender's outburst, the party was a success. People ate the food that was served, mingled happily, and danced in celebration at the Salty Paw.
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Baby Boy Gordon's grand arrival was still a few months away, but after today, Heather and Conrad were even more excited for his arrival. ->
<- Previous Part (Gender Reveal Poll) | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary
Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary
WCIF Poses? Heather and Conrad are posed before the cut with the amazing Us 3 posepack by Katverse.
NOTE: A lot of people who should be there weren't there because their circle is getting too big, but I do plan to show Mortimer and Uncle Karl and their trip in Willow Creek since they're going to investigate medallions and possible curses. So those we did not see aren't being totally forgotten!
NOTE 2: Lilith is not bothered by the connection to Maude Alcorn and I didn't make it a big scene, but you know me. That's probably not the end of it 👀
86 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 years ago
Text
Batting Practice Part 28 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You finally have a wedding dress and a hopeful plan for the future. But when Molly caves and tells you what's been bothering her, you desperately wish she would take your advice.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
Length: 4600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Work was insanely busy, and the month of August really started to get away from you. It was getting precariously close to September, and you really needed to buy a wedding dress. There wouldn't even be time to get anything altered at this point, and you winced as you thought about what that might mean.
Your weekends and evenings had been consumed with activities. Bradley's baseball games, visits to the park, rainy days scouring the flea market for baseball cards. Honestly, you couldn't remember ever being happier, and you made sure you told Bradley that all the time. 
"We don't need to have an actual wedding," you whispered when you couldn't stop yawning, curled up in bed with Bradley. "We can just visit the justice of the peace."
He pushed you onto your back and smothered your entire face in kisses. "No way, Kitten. I'm not doing what Danny did. Besides, I want to have a wedding."
You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he kissed your paw print charm. "I guess I better buy a dress then."
"I don't care if you get married in this," he rasped, tugging on the old shirt you were wearing. "But we're having the wedding."
You rolled your eyes hard. "Since I'm absolutely not wearing this, I guess I'll keep my plans to go dress shopping with Molly in the morning."
"You do that, Kitten. And I'll take Ev and Bob out for breakfast at that place you hate that everyone else likes."
"The place with the sticky floor?" you asked, grimacing.
"I'm pretty sure it's just sticky from maple syrup."
"Keep telling yourself that, Coach. That place is gross."
He snorted and rolled back onto his side with you. "Let's get some sleep. I'm fucking beat. I love you."
You were asleep within minutes. And then as things usually went on the weekends, Everett was in your room, waking both of you up, complaining he was hungry first thing in the morning.
Bradley groaned and pulled him up into bed. "If you go back to sleep for another hour, I'll take you out for chocolate chip waffles, okay?"
"Yay! I love that place!" Everett cheered before quieting down and snuggling into the pillows next to Bradley. You kissed his forehead and then Bradley's and then slipped out of bed to take a shower. They could do their own thing for breakfast, but you and Molly would be having a mimosa lunch after you bought some dresses. And nobody was going to tell you no.
You ended up leaving for the dress boutique the same time Bradley and Ev left for breakfast, but when you got to the shop, Molly wasn't there yet. "Typical," you muttered, texting her to let her know you'd meet her inside. 
After fifteen minutes, you felt completely overwhelmed. There were so many options, and you just wanted something simple. All of the fabric was starting to feel the same under your fingertips, and nothing looked quite right. Honestly, Molly was so much better at this stuff than you were. Maybe she forgot about the plan? You started to panic without her here. Perhaps you could see if Nat was free. 
Just as you turned, ready to dash back out to your car, Molly walked in. "There you are," you sighed in relief, but then you gasped. "What's wrong? You look terrible."
"Nothing," she muttered. But her skin looked dull, and she was wearing an outfit you would have never imagined she'd leave the house in. Was she wearing one of Bob's undershirts? She was barely meeting your eyes now. "Did you pick one out yet?" Even her voice sounded lifeless. She was usually so expressive.
"No," you said carefully. "I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without your help."
"Okay," she replied as she started to grab a few dresses off the racks and handed them to you. 
You took them all in your arms and said, "Molly, just tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," she snapped. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."
Unsure about what to do, you just did as you were told. But something was wrong, and you thought about texting Bradley or Bob from inside the dressing room. But you didn't want to upset her further. So you pulled on the first dress she had given you, and you were shocked. It was beautiful, it fit you well, and it wasn't too fancy for the wedding location.  
"Molly, you're a genius," you said as you opened the door. 
She just nodded at you from her seat with a small smile. "You look very pretty. Try on another one."
"Okay," you told her, watching as she rubbed her hands over her face. She looked like she was about to cry. You quickly changed into a second dress which was also pretty great, and you walked out a second time to find that she actually was crying now. 
"Molly, please," you begged, bending down to try to wipe her tears away, but she just shook her head and quickly stood up, avoiding your reach. "Talk to me." You followed her across the store, down a row of dresses, and you could hear her sobbing as she rushed away from you.
Once she reached the back corner, she had nowhere else to go. When she turned to face you, she looked like she was in agony. Tears were dripping down her face and she shook her head. "I fucked up," she sobbed miserably. "I fucked up so bad."
"Molly," you gasped, reaching for her. This time she tripped forward into your arms, and you held her against the fabric of the wedding dress you were wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it." You rubbed her back as thought after horrible thought popped up in your mind. Was it something to do with Bob? With work? You'd never, ever seen her this upset before. 
But now she couldn't even talk. She was just crying and shaking in your arms. You kissed the top of her head and held her, glaring at anyone who tried to come back this far in the aisle until they turned back. And eventually, she pulled away from you a few inches, and she let you wipe some of her tears away.
You didn't push her to say anything. You knew better than that. You just held her face in your hands and waited.
She took a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly. Her voice was a soft, trembling whisper as she said, "I'm pregnant."
Your lips parted wordlessly before you closed them again. She was obviously very upset about this fact, so you weren't sure what to say. But you eventually settled on, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" You couldn't actually imagine Bob being upset with Molly about anything, but you supposed it was possible.
She shook her head in a jerky motion. She sounded so small as she said, "I haven't told him."
"Molly," you sighed, pulling her in for another tight hug. "How long have you known?"
"About a week," she gasped, pressing her tear streaked face to your neck. She'd kept this inside for a week. You were honestly shocked. "I suspected it for a little while at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."
There were so many questions you wanted to ask. How far along was she? When was she going to tell Bob? "Molly, were you using birth control?"
"Of course!" she keened. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"
"I know, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just checking." After you got pregnant with Everett, you'd made her promise to be safe.
"But I switched from one pill to a different one," she whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"
"Shh," you whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"
She pulled away from you and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."
You nodded, reaching for her hands and stroking her knuckles with your thumbs. "Molly, you have to tell him."
"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, almost like they were never going to stop. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."
"Don't say that," you whispered. "Don't say that about Bob."
"Exactly!" she said, pointing at you in anger. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"
She sank to the floor at your feet and cried, burying her face in what you were now certain was Bob's undershirt. You tried to sit down next to her, but you had to fold the dress a little awkwardly. And then a sales clerk came over. 
"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."
You took a deep breath to reply, but Molly was already saying, "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?" 
As the woman bustled away, looking completely scandalized, you turned back to your sister. Her gaze looked steely now as she licked her lips. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."
"Molly." You were shaking your head. "You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this."
"So I can end up like you?" she said, and her words struck you mute. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of the undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."
----------------------
Bradley was sopping up a plate full of syrup with a pancake when Bob finally caved. "Molly's seems unhappy."
"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone. He thought back to that night at the Hard Deck a few weeks ago when everyone had been in a great mood. Molly and Bob had sex in the bathroom. He'd heard Molly tell Bob she loved him. 
"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob's face looked helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."
"No," Bradley said. Truly, this didn't make sense to him. "It has to be something else? Work?"
Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He looked like he was in pain as he reached for his wallet, but Bradley handed his credit card to the waiter.
"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."
"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."
"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."
Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck.
"What's wrong with Uncle Bob?" Everett asked on the way home. Bradley winced.
"Not sure, kiddo. But I bet he'll sort it out soon."
Bradley was actually a little surprised that you were home when he and Everett got there. "Did you pick a dress?" he asked, wrapping you up in a hug. 
"Yeah," you mumbled, frowning up at him, and Bradley wondered if this had to do with Molly.
He kissed your forehead and said, "Hey, Ev. Remember our plans for the Phillies room upstairs?"
"Yeah!" 
"Why don't you get the measuring tape out of the closet and start measuring the room. I'll be up in a minute."
Bradley watched him dash up the stairs with a smile on his face, and then he turned back to you. "What's wrong with Molly?"
You pressed your lips together and whispered, "She's pregnant."
"Oh," he grunted. "Bob seems to be under the impression that she's going to leave him."
"I mean..." you said with a shrug. 
"She wouldn't leave him. He's perfect for her. Oh fuck... she didn't tell him yet!"
You shook your head and looked like you were going to cry. "She's so upset, Bradley. It was unplanned. She thinks she destroyed her relationship, and she doesn't intend to tell him at all."
"She has to," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be fine. Bob loves kids." He paused before asking, "Were they using birth control? Yours seems pretty sturdy, maybe she should have been on that one."
"Bradley," you said, rolling your eyes as he rubbed your tummy. "I told her to tell Bob, but I don't know that she will."
"Fuck," he whispered. "What do we do?"
"Just wait," you responded softly. "She said she'd never get as lucky as me. She said she'd never find someone else as good as Bob later. She said she doesn't think she can be a mom. And I think I fucked that up for her, because she saw me do it all by myself for so long." Now you were crying, and Everett was shouting for him. "Just go up with Ev. I'll be on the deck."
You pushed him away and went to sit outside while you cried, and Bradley didn't know what else to do, so he just went upstairs. 
----------------------
You ended up buying the wedding dress that you were wearing when you sat on the floor of the bridal shop. The sales team was so obnoxious, and you were honestly afraid Molly was going to scream at them, so you just bought it and left. Good thing you liked it, because it was yours now. You were looking in the mirror in your bedroom, trying to zip it up when Molly called.
"You okay?" you asked when you answered the phone. 
"Yeah," she replied. It had been a few days since the dress shopping fiasco, and you'd been checking on her constantly. She hadn't told you much. You weren't even sure if she'd had a conversation with Bob. Frankly, you weren't sure about the status of her pregnancy.
"You wanna come over?" you asked her. "I have ice cream hidden in the freezer."
She laughed. "You always have ice cream hidden in the freezer. But I can't. Bob and I are going out for dinner, and I have to work at six tomorrow morning."
A dinner date with her boyfriend? That sounded promising. You kept your voice upbeat. "Where are you going for dinner?"
"I wanted sushi, of course, but we're going out for Italian instead."
"And Bob's okay?" you asked. You kind of missed the days of tee ball practices and games when you'd see him more often. Of course you could just call him, but you wanted to hear it from Molly.
Her response was soft, and she still didn't quite sound like her usual self, but it was a far cry better than seeing her on the floor in the bridal shop. "Yeah. I actually just wanted to ask you if it's okay if I wear a plain navy blue dress for your wedding. I can text you a picture of it."
Your heart started beating faster. Your wedding was close, and your sister seemed at least marginally interested in it. "Molly, you can wear anything you want. You don't need to send me a picture."
But the message already came through. It was a cute, form fitting dress with little cap sleeves. "It's perfect! Get it! You'll look adorable."
"It's just that it's stretchy, and I'm already feeling bloated, so I want to get something that I know will be okay."
Your eyes went wide as you looked in the mirror. "That's great, Molly. You'll look perfect no matter what. And Bob can wear anything."
She chuckled. "I think he's planning on matching Bradley and Ev, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."
You felt a little better as you ended the call. 
"Kitten?" Bradley shouted as he walked up the stairs. 
"Shit," you muttered, trying to unzip your dress. "Don't come in here!" you yelled.
"What's wrong?" he asked as you practically slammed the bedroom door in his face. 
"I'm wearing my wedding dress!" You tried to jiggle the zipper, but it wasn't budging. You took a deep breath and held it, holding it in, but that didn't help either. "The zipper is stuck!"
"Open the door. I'll keep my eyes closed."
You let him in, and he stumbled toward you until you took his hand and placed it on the zipper at the side of your dress. He eased it down slowly and without issue, never even cracking an eye open. "This is not how I imagined you taking this dress off of me," you whispered before kissing his cheek.
He smiled softly, but he said, "Once I'm able to look at you, we need to talk."
"About what?" you asked slowly, realizing he looked a little frustrated in spite of his closed eyes. "The Phillies room? I said you two can do whatever you want in there."
You could actually hear Everett sorting through Bradley's tubs of baseball cards right now. "No, not about the Phillies room. Meet me downstairs."
Then he was gone, and your dress was hanging awkwardly off your body. You changed and headed downstairs to find Bradley sitting on the couch with his legs splayed wide and his hands on his thighs. 
"What's up?" you asked him, slowly making your way through the living room. His face was nearly expressionless, but you could still tell he was upset. 
Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Is Danny giving you a hard time?"
You just shrugged. "What makes you ask that?"
"I saw that huge packet of information from your lawyer on the kitchen counter. You need to talk to me about this." His voice was harsh, like you'd never heard it before. "Be honest with me, Kitten. If we're getting married, if Ev is going to be my stepson," he said, gesturing upstairs with his hand, "then you need to let me know what's going on here!"
"I'm sorry," you whispered. "He's not... giving me a hard time. Well, I guess he kind of is." You sighed and sank down onto the couch. "He's been served with papers. He has a few months to comply, so I just know he's going to take as much time as he can before paying me a cent of child support. And the worst part is, I'll have to wait until Ev is a legal adult before I can have his birth certificate amended." 
Bradley looked pensive, scratching the corner of his mustache with narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I wish there was something more I can do. You already asked your lawyer if there's anything I can do after we get married?"
You didn't want to keep the truth from him any longer, but you just simply said, "I'll let you know, Coach. We'll figure it out." Really, you weren't sure if you would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely or getting child support from him. 
When Bradley tugged on your arm and stretched out on the couch, you started to smile. "Come here," he whispered, gently pulling you on top of him. "You know you don't deserve all the runaround, right?" He kissed you and wrapped his hands around around your waist, letting his palms rest on your lower back. "And Ev doesn't deserve anything Danny does."
"I know," you replied, pushing your hands up through his hair. "But we're making out pretty well these days. Got ourselves an upgrade." Your lips met his neck in a soft kiss that had him tightening his grip on you. 
He glanced toward the stairs. "Kitten," he whispered, his tone a warning that made you feel warm all over. When he met your eyes he was shaking his head. "I wanna take you to bed, but I need to get to practice."
"Mmm," you hummed, letting your eyes drift closed as he kissed you. "Later then. When you're all sweaty and hot."
"You're killing me," he grunted, standing with you in his arms, pressed against his body. He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll go see what Ev is up to before I head to practice. Bob told me he's skipping it tonight. Not sure what that's all about."
"He's taking Molly out to dinner."
"That's.... good?" he said, but it sounded more like a question.
"I hope so," you whispered. It felt strange to know that your sister wasn't going to be coming to you immediately with all of her problems now. Because it sounded like a decision had been made. You just hoped that Bob could handle her and all of her glorious personality. 
"I'll check on Ev and then get going. I told him he can organize my baseball cards however he wants. But between you and me, I hid most of the really valuable ones under our bed."
"Good call," you told him with a laugh. 
Once he had gone to practice, you went upstairs to work on the boys' Phillies room with your son. While you had nixed painting the entire room red for fear of it looking like a bloody crime scene, you did let them hang up some baseball decals. Everett had apparently hung up some more Phillies posters without help, because they were very crooked, but the room was actually coming together. 
"Mom! Look!" he said, holding up a red and white pennant that said BRADLEY and looked like it was from the '80s. "Can you help me hang this up? I don't think Dad even knew it was in here with his baseball cards!"
Your breath caught like it always did when he called Bradley his dad, and it took you a minute to pull yourself together. "Yeah," you replied with a nod. "I'll help you. Let's put it up next to the door."
"And maybe I can make one with both our names out of poster board. I'm getting pretty good at making signs and stuff."
"You really are, Ev," you told him as he taped the pennant into place. 
"Do you think we can all dress as baseball players for Halloween this year? Are you getting married before or after Halloween? I keep forgetting. Do you think Aunt Molly would dress as the Phanatic? I think she'd probably be better at it than you. No offense. But we could go trick or treating with them, because then there would be more people to help hold all the candy I get. Dad will dress as a baseball player and hold my candy if I ask him to. I'm pretty sure."
"Oh, Ev," you said, hugging him as tears filled your eyes. "We can do whatever you want, okay?"
He let you hug him for a few seconds before he wiggled his way free and asked, "Why are you crying? You haven't been crying as much."
It was because you didn't want to have to think about Danny. You didn't want him to try to pull some stunt in a few years or withhold child support and make you chase him down. He was the type who would make you waste a bunch of time and money just because he could. He would make your life miserable now because he always blamed you for ruining his life with Everett. 
"I'm sorry," you gasped. "I'm sorry I'm crying." You pulled him in closer again. You knew. You were sure. You would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely. And Bradley was the easiest way to get this weight off your chest, because whenever you thought about Danny, it made your body ache. You wanted to be able to stop thinking about him. About the way he had hurt Everett. About the way the law had been designed in such a way that guaranteed he'd be able to continue to hurt Everett in the future.
"Did I make you sad?" Everett asked softly. "We can be magicians or pirates for Halloween instead if you want."
"Oh my god, Ev," you gasped. "No, you didn't make me sad. I love you." You knelt down on the floor in front of him and kissed his cheeks. "I was just thinking about your biological dad, Danny."
Everett's expression turned to one of fear as he said, "I don't want to see him."
"You won't," you promised, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. All the child support in the world wouldn't matter. You didn't need it. Your son was absolutely terrified of Danny, and some money wasn't going to make up for that.
Everett seemed to accept your answer as he nodded, but he still looked concerned. "We don't even need him now."
"We never did," you agreed with a small smile. You had overheard Bradley tell Bob back in June that he would like to adopt Everett. Maybe you should just go ahead and ask him to. Maybe you should just tell him the truth: he could help remove Danny from your lives one hundred percent. "Ev, do you know what it would mean if Bradley adopted you?"
He nodded, his brow creased in slight confusion. "I think so."
"Let's talk about it, so we know it makes sense. And you can tell me if it sounds like something you might want. And then we can talk to Bradley about it. But it'll be our little secret for now."
-----------------------------
I hope Molly and Bob have come to a decision they are both comfortable with. More of that will be posted in The Curveball. Next up for Coach and Kitten....the wedding! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 29
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 months ago
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Sweetest treat; Fred Weasley x reader
*Author's note*
Now this was just a sweet little treat (haha see what I did there?) after viewing the James and Oliver Phelps tasting British candy video on youtube. Now as an American I can't describe the taste of the following candies I've done so to any Brit readers out there I apologize and if you want to reach out to me to tell me what these selected candies taste like to you, just give me a shoutout.
Not really any warnings here this is mostly a fluff piece but if I had to have some warnings it would only be mentions of Parental death and past mentionings of Umbridge. Other than that nothing else to be warned about, enjoy my darlings!
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While it’s always felt like a home at Hogwarts, there’s just no place like home.  Especially when your home is just above a sweetshop just outside of Birmingham but that’s the perks of being a muggle-born witch.  My dad owns the sweetshop, in fact it’s been passed down in his family for nearly a century.  And sure while the Wizarding world has it’s own sweets and treats to thoroughly enjoy, I guess the nostalgia in me just can’t allow any wizard sweets to top the candies I’ve grown up with.
Which is why I always sneak some ‘muggle candy’ with me to Hogwarts every year and when I come home, I pick and choose what I’ll want to take for the next term.  And during the summer, my dad’s shop truly becomes the go-to for kids during the summer holiday which is why I help him out with the shop, especially since mum died last year.
I was currently doing some inventory and writing down what candies we needed to restock when there was a loud thump at the window.  I jumped at the sudden crash since there had been nothing but pure silence since closing up shop.  My dad rushed out from his office frantic and exclaimed.
“What the bloody hell was that?!” I went over to the window and let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s alright dad, it’s just Errol. The Weasley’s owl. Poor old bugger.” I walked outside the shop and knelt down beside him.  He lay there on the cement floor on his back with a letter in his beak.  “I swear Errol you’re hopeless. Nearly gave my dad a heart attack thinking someone was vandalizing the store.” I took the letter out of his beak and he soon recovered squawking.
I held arm out and he perched himself on my forearm and I adjusted him to my shoulder, his wings flapping and ruffing my hair as I went back inside.  I opened up the letter and I smiled warmly.
“Can’t your wizard friends use the phone like everyone else? Or use the normal mailing system?” asked dad.
“I told you dad, this is how the wizarding community sends messages. They forbid muggle means of communication. Kinda old school they are, much like you are with your filing system. I’m surprised you’re not using a computer to keep all the records together.”
“Touche you bring up a good point, darling. So who is it from? That lover boy of yours?” I shushed him and read the letter.
My beloved (Y/n),
I know you said you wouldn’t be able to come over for the yearly Weasley summer getaway, but you never said anything about any of us coming there.  I talked with mum and dad and they’ve allowed me to come and visit you for the week.  Perhaps you could educate me on why you believe your muggle sweets surpass our own (which I’ll still fight you on till my last breath).
And don’t worry, I’ll come the ‘normal muggle way’ don’t want your dad freaking out now do we with the fireplace like last time? Hope to hear back from you soon, it’s been lonely not having you in my arms.
The handsome twin,
Fred W.
P.S. Ignore what he just said and don’t mention this to him but I’m the better looking one and you know it.
From the real handsome twin,
George W.
Oh those boys.  I shook my head and said.
“Hey dad, Fred got his parent’s approval to stay with us for the week, is it okay with you?” dad let out a deep sigh as he put on his thinking face.  “Please, please?”
“I don’t know. Though I approve of you dating I just don’t know how to feel about having your boyfriend stay over.”
“C’mon dad. I promise no hanky-panky. I’ll even get him to help around the shop. No magic I promise.” I crossed my heart swearing by it.  He pondered the idea for a while but he kept his stoic face and that usually meant he could go either way with this decision.
“He takes the guest bedroom. And you two are not allowed to have the door shut when either of you are in a room together.”
“Deal. Oh thank you daddy!” I set Errol down on the checkout desk and ran up to my dad and hugged and kissed him.
“You’re welcome. But I’m trusting you two.”
“We swear, no hanky-panky.” I quickly went upstairs and wrote my response to Fred before sending it off with Errol.  God I hope that bird doesn’t get lost and keep him waiting too long.
A few days went by and as I was ringing up a few customer’s the bell chime over the door signified another costumer.
“Welcome to Nikki’s Candy shop I’ll be right with you. There you are lads, now don’t overdo it less you let your teeth rot.” I told the young boys as I handed them their candy basket and they raced out.  When I turned to the customer who had just entered, I was greeted with a familiar red-haired boy.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was Honeydukes.”
“Well when this shop first opened, my great-great grandfather wanted to make sure that when the customers entered inside it was like entering a magical wonderland of sweets.” I came around the counter before wrapped my arms over Fred’s neck while his hands rested at my waist.  “I missed you.”
“Not as much as I missed you. How is it that you’ve turned me into such a sap?”
“Oh didn’t I tell you that my gran was part bunny? Whoops guess I left that detail out.” We both chuckled before softly kissing each other.  But a throat cleared sounded off behind us and there stood my dad.  Fred and I quickly separated and Fred greeted my dad.
“Hello again Mr. (L/n).”
“Hello Fred. While I don’t mind the fact that you’re dating my daughter, I kindly ask that you both keep your snogging to a minimum especially during business hours. Folks sometimes don’t take kindly to seeing that type of affection be displayed in public, especially in a food shop.”
“Yes sir. (Y/n) mentioned in her letter that you could use some help reshelving some inventory in the back room.”
“Yes, but first have you gotten settled into your room?” one thing about my dad is even when he’s in business mode, he’ll take the time to check up on you to make sure you’re okay.
“Yes sir, trunks all there and everything. And I solemnly swear it is in the guest bedroom you said I could use for the week.”
“Alright. Grab an extra apron just down the hall and get to work. (Y/n), you too. The McCallister’s should be in to pick up their birthday basket any minute now.”
“Got it dad.” He gave us a firm nod and a stern look that told us to not fool around anymore before he left to go back to the office.
“Wow, you were not kidding about your dad.” He whispered lowly.
“He’s had a lot on his plate. Ever since…..” I looked down solemnly.  It hurt that I couldn’t even leave Hogwarts for a few days to go to my mum’s funeral all because of Umbitch.  Fred came over and embraced me as he rubbed my arm comfortingly.  “I’m okay, even though I couldn’t go to the funeral, I at least got to say my goodbyes to her once school let out.”
“She was a nice woman. Her and mum got along fairly well whenever you guys came to join us for Christmas. She knows it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. But it still hurt that I couldn’t say goodbye to her in her final moments. Epilepsy is rubbish Freddie.”
“I agree love it’s total rubbish.” I felt him kiss the top of my head and it was at that moment the bell chimed signaling the arrival of a costumer.  Quickly I put on a smile and went to greet the woman and gave her the birthday basket and continued to keep myself busy to distract me from my grief.
The work day continued to be busy just as it is every summer’s day but at the stroke of 6 o’clock, we closed up the shop and could finally eat some supper.  Dad and I warmed up some left over chicken and steamed vegetables.  As we all ate around the dinner table my dad said to Fred.
“So Fred, how goes your new shop? (Y/n) told me you boys had recently gotten the deed to the building in that magic corner of yours.”
“Yes sir, all the paperwork was finalized a few weeks ago. Our stocks are currently being madly produced at a good pace. Hopefully we’ll be able to be open for business just before the next term starts.”
“Got all the inspections checked and approved of?”
“Yes and we just completed the design for the front of the shop. It has our faces on it and every other time when the top hat comes up, a rabbit will disappear and reappear.”
“Impressive. Good thing I don’t have to compete with you boys, you’d run me out of house and home.”
“Not a chance Mr. (L/n). Kids still need their sweets.”
“Guys, no business at the dinner table.” I gently reprimanded but it kinda hurt to say that since that’s what mum used to say whenever dad got too deep into the business outside working hours.  He could do whatever he wanted when it came to running the shop after work hours but whenever it was meal time, business needed to stay out of the dining table.
“Sorry poppet.” Dad apologized.
“Sorry love.” Fred replied before we continued eating and discussing things outside of work.  Once we were done with our meal, I gathered up all the dishes and got them cleaned up and set to dry.  As I came back toward the dining room, I saw my dad and Fred shaking hands before he left to head back downstairs to his office.
“What was all that for?” I asked.
“Nothing big. Said that if Georgie and I ever ran into any business trouble whether for contracts or faulty inspections to give him a call. Even though the wizarding community and muggle world is different there is a commonality between the two. And that’s when it comes to starting up a business.” I smiled softly and said.
“C’mon, I think now’s a good a time for your muggle education on candy.”
“Lead the way milady.” I headed lead him towards the guest room and we got him set up and ready for his education.
In the guest room, all of Fred’s stuff was now unpacked and the two of us were in our lounge clothes with sweets both wizard and muggle treats scattered across his bed.
“Now the first lesson of your muggle candy education is the best way to start a conversation when you go to the Underground, mention the price for this guy.” I held up a Freddo caramel bar.
“Freddo the frog?”
“Correct. And what’s cool is he’s like the mascot of Birmingham because this is where his candy originated from the company Cadbury.” I unwrapped the chocolate frog from his wrapper and commented, “Ohh it’s melting already. That makes the caramel inside taste even better. Try it.” I held the Freddo bar out to Fred and he took it.
“I’m kinda left disappointed that he’s not coming to life like our chocolate frogs can.”
“Well not everyone likes live frogs hopping around. And if you were asked to eat one even if it’s chocolate covered most wouldn’t. But I promise you Fred, it’s worth it.” He took a bite and chewed it up before I saw his eyes go wide.  “Didn’t I tell you?”
“That is actually really good. But still not as enjoyable as the classic chocolate frog.” He said holding up the case for it and handed it to me.
“First time you and George tricked me into eating it.”
“I swear never did I think I’d hear someone who could out scream my own mum.” I shoved him with my foot and I opened it up and the magical frog leapt out at me but I grabbed it before it could land on my face and bite it in half.  “But I will admit you are right. The caramel really does compliment the chocolate of this Freddo so that gives him some points for lack of being alive.”
“And I gotta admit, the cards inside really do make the frogs worth stuffing your face for.” After eating the second half of my frog I took out the card and said, “Another Professor Minnie. Best add her to the other 15 I’ve got of her.” Fred finished his Freddo bar and licked his fingers clean.
“As you’ve come to learn and love, there’s nothing better than gambling your friends into eating something revolting or sweet than the Bertie’s Botts every flavour beans.” He held up the box and took his gamble with a bean.  “Huh, earwax. Hadn’t had one of those in years.”
“I still can’t believe that you actually ate a boogey flavor one once.”
“I swear by it. Worse thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Uh-uh, the worst flavor is vomit.” I disagreed with him.
“I’d take a vomit flavour over a boogey flavor. At least with vomit I’d know it’d taste like what I had just eaten.” I groaned in disgust.
“Why do you have to say stuff like that around me?”
“Because I know it disgusts you and you look cute when you scrunch your face like that.” He teased as he gave my knee a squeeze.  I let out a yelp and quickly covered my mouth.
“Fred Weasley don’t you dare.” I threatened.
“Or what love?” he challenged as he eyed me mischievously  with the smirk.
“I’m not alone this time around.”
“Clever girl.” He released his grip on my knee and I reached out and grabbed the bag of wine gums.
“Now these require a unique taste. My dad really loves them but I can tolerate them occasionally. Wine gums. Got different flavours and sorts and each color represents a different wine brand. But despite their name they don’t actually contain any alcohol. Yellow, orange and brown for rum, black for port, green and beige for cider, and red for claret.”
“Shame that they don’t actually taste like the muggle alcohol they name them after.”
“Yeah well can’t have underaged drinking for kids who eat these. London’s already filled with bad drivers already don’t need them to get any worse, especially if they’ve got the munchies.”
“The what?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” I tore open the bag and took Fred’s hand and poured out a small handful of wine gums into his palm while I grabbed the Bertie’s bean box.  Together both he and I took a bite of a random sweet but I immediately spat it out.  “Ugh gross! Vomit flavour! Fred Weasley I swear if you jinked me to eat a vomit flavour sweet first you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“I am deeply offended that you’d think I’d do such a thing!” he gasped dramatically holding his hand to his chest.  I closed the box and tossed it aside as I grabbed a tea cake and unwrapped it before shoving the whole thing in my mouth.  The marshmallow and chocolate immediately over compassing the vomit taste in my mouth.  “You are an odd one.”
“Odd? You’re the one whose opening the joke shop.” I said through my chewing.
“I thought a lady doesn’t talk with their mouth full?” I wagged my finger at him in disagreement.
“Mmm. I maybe a girl but I am no lady, Umbitch saw to that.” I said after finally swallowing the tea cake.  Fred scooted closer to me taking my left hand and stroked the back of my left hand that once had I MUST ACT LIKE A LADY scarred into my skin.
“I would’ve done far worse to her if I could. George would too.”
“I know you boys would. But no sense in throwing yourselves in Azkaban for my sake.”
“We’d still do it.” I smiled softly and gave the tip of his nose a soft kiss.  “What was that you had just a second ago?”
“A tea cake. Don’t ask why they call it that cause it doesn’t really go with tea nor is it a cake. Best way I can compare it to is they’re like the chocoballs on the trolley. A marshmallow sitting on top of a crisp biscuit and covered in chocolate.” I handed him another tea cake while I grabbed another one.  We both unwrapped our tea cakes and this time I bit into it half way as did Fred.
“Mmm that is good.” He said through his chewing.
“My mum always made the best ones. She even knicked a recipe from my aunt in America where instead of a marshmallow my aunt uses blended oreos.”
“Now that is something I’d like to try. Think you’d be able to make some?”
“Don’t you remember the last time I got near a stove at your house?”
“Right yeah. At least mum didn’t blow her top off knowing it was you. Had it been either Georgie or I we’d be six feet under.”
“Now for this last sweet treat, I want you to do something for me first.”
“And what might that be?”
“Close your eyes.”
“The last time someone asked me to do that, I ended up being shoved into a closet with a dungbomb.”
“Yeah well I’m not Lee. Just trust me on this babe.” He looked at me but with one loving gaze up at him, I knew I had him at the palm of my hand.  He closed his eyes and I took the Cadbury dairy milk bar and unwrapped it.  “Open your mouth.” I told him and he opened his mouth letting out an ‘ahhh’ to which I rolled my eyes playfully and placed the bar in his mouth.
He then began chewing the chocolate bar the second he felt it on his tongue.  His eyes opened wide for a second as his facial expression turned to pure satisfaction and he let out a loud moan.
“Oh Godric…..”
“I told you. Cadbury is the best chocolate in the world. Eating these bars really make me feel like a kid again. Pre-Hogwarts days.” I took a bar for myself and unwrapped it and placed it between my teeth.  I then felt Fred’s fingers underneath my chin and he turned me to face him.  Keeping hold of my chin between his fingers, he leaned right into my face taking the other half of my bar between his teeth and snapped it in half before eating his half of my chocolate bar.
I let out a small squeak and actually dropped my half of the bar and even though my heart was racing at what he had just done and my cheeks were probably as red as the Gryffindor colors I snapped at him.
“Fredick Gideon Weasley, how dare you—” he cut me off with a kiss.  His hand that held my chin now moved to the back of my neck gently stroking or rubbing certain spots that made me weak in the knees.  With one pressure point he knew that would get me to open my mouth, his tongue soon slipped into my mouth and our tongues soon danced with each other.
After our intense snogging and the desperate need for air became too great, Fred separated from me, the two of us panting softly and he licked his lips.
“Now that was by far the sweetest treat I’ve had.” I snorted softly as I shook my head at him.
“I really have turned you into a softie.”
“If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
“Everyone but George. He’s always going on how you’re whipped for me.”
“I swear he’s a liar. In fact did you know that it was actually him that switched your muggle marshmallows with that canary cream?”
“He didn’t.” I said exasperatedly.
“Oh yes, saw him do it with my own eyes.”
“And you didn’t think to try and warn me about it?” I asked backing out of his arms and crossed my arms over my chest.  Fred then began stammering out an excuse while I arched my brow at him.
“You’ve got to admit it, you did sound adorable making those canary sounds.” I didn’t flinch.  “I’m going to be sleeping on the couch as you once said, aren’t I?”
“I might be able to overlook this matter, if you help me come up with a revenge prank on him.”
“Did I tell you how much I love you?”
“Not nearly enough.” I said with a shrug.
“Then I’ve got a whole week to not only say it repetitively, but also might have some ideas you can pull on Georgie the next time you’re around.” He pulled me back into his lap and captured my lips in a softer, more loving kiss.  “We were truly made for each other.” He whispered against my lips.
“Like chocolate and caramel.” I whispered back before leaning back and deepening our kiss once again.
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