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thelostconsultant · 4 months ago

Text

Not a gold digger

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.

warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.

note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.

The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.

It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that.

You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him.

Ridiculous.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head.

You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. “Someone started another campaign to cancel me,” you replied casually as you got out with his help.

Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. “Gold digging?” You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. “Look, I know you're having way too much fun with this, but–”

Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. “I'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,” you told him.

Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.

So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse.

You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.

You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.

“Oh, fuck me,” you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.

Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. “Is everything okay?” You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. “I'm muted. So?”

You grabbed your phone and went over to him. “They know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,” you summarized as you gave him the device.

He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. “It's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,” he tried. “And if you’re worried about the article… Don’t be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted with a sigh.

“I’m usually right. C’mere,” he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. “Will you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.”

With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean.

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Max’s eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. “I should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,” he told you.

“I’m not going anywhere, just try to be patient.”

He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. “Sorry, I have to go. See you next time,” he told the others, then logged out. You couldn’t remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.

liked by user1, user2 and 947,896 others

f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?

view all comments

user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...

user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.

↳ user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.

↳ user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?

user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others

maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.

↳ maxverstappen1: I don't care.

landonorris: You're absolutely right!

↳ maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?

↳ landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.

danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #before i get the question again this is a random cute pic that came up at the top in the google search #no i wasn't paying attention to skin color

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streetlamp-amber · 5 months ago

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never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

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nothomegal · 24 days ago

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"Kiss. Teach. Love!"

(Mr. Crawling x GN! Reader)

No way, NotHomeGal actually revived? Yup, I did. Homicipher brought me back to life from the depts of my creative burnout (o゜▽゜)o☆

This game really scratched a part of my brain I didn't know was there, but I'm not complaining!

And no, I won't be abandoning the slasher fandom, but I must say it will take some time to come back to write those right now, but I'll do my best to rekindle that spark!

Okay, enough of my yapping. Hope you enjoy this Oneshot (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: after learning that sometimes objects from the human world may fall into the realm you're currently stuck in, it became a common activity for you to scavenge around the junk to pass time, and your ghost companion always seems so curious about it!

Warnings: none really just fluff, Mr. Crawling being too cute for a mortal soul to handle.

Side note: yeah just like in most (basically all) of my fics, MC (or Y/N) will be Gender Neutral! So everyone gets to enjoy the story with their favorite ghost man :]

AND! Here's the link of the dictionary I used for the fic to put ghost words heheerhkj.

Word count: 3.6k

It's been so long, they think at least. Time feels stuck in place, yet in the deepest part of (Y/N)'s conscience they know it's not true, that the time and everything outside these lifeless concrete walls is very much alive.

Life goes on, it keeps moving regardless if they feel it or not, time is passing just like it always did... Yet, they feel stuck. Numb. It's like their mind and soul are slowly melting, becoming one with this dimension they begrudgingly started to call "home", even if it's not... This is not their real home!...

It's not!...

It's not...

It's not...?

—"☨ д つ々?"— (Sad)

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips when suddenly something brushed against their leg as that soft voice spoke next to them, that "something" being the very long, dark hair of their ghost companion.

They turn their head, almost flinching at the sight of how close Mr. Crawling was to them. Shoot, sometimes they forget how unnerving his appearance is, especially when he creeps up on them like this, though unintentionally.

—"ત ટ д ☨ д つ々?"— (You Sad)

He repeated the question, his usual smile now replaced with a small frown. His voice quiet and soft as always, but with that subtle quiver at the end that appeared whenever he's concerned.

(Y/N)'s breath almost hitched from that little but oh so sweet display of care. Even after all the time spent side by side with Mr. Crawling, they still periodically wonder what the hell did they do to deserve such kind perso... Ghost, in their life.

Before the entity's worry could grow, (Y/N) flashed him with a smile, shaking their head a little.

—"I'm alright, just a little distracted."—

Their answer did seem to soothe the ghost's worry a little. However, he leaned closer, more of his hair falling into (Y/N)'s body, sending small shiver through their form as the black locks brushed their legs, sensation that resembling a small breeze of air running across their skin. An odd, chilly feeling... But one that became very comforting and grounding for the human over the time, as it was like a gentle reminder of Mr. Crawling's presence, that they weren't alone.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ ? つ ત บ บ つ ኟ บ ટ ?"— (Not Bad Feel Not Scared)

Their smile faltered for a brief moment, knowing exactly what he was talking about...

Even if it's been quite a while since (Y/N) had one of those episodes of fear and hallucinations, the memories of them are still haunting the human in one way or another, leaving this uncomfortable sensation under their skin. It's like feeling hands, snaking all over their body, slowly slipping under their clothes, creeping through their skin and flesh, trying to dig deeper and deeper, right to their very core, trying to reach something so deep inside of them and rip it away from them...

Their essence?

Their soul?

T̵͉̗̒ḣ̴̻̱̂ȅ̷͓͘i̵̤͙̐͝ȑ̶͈̖̏ n̷̳̻̬̮̯̟̗̙̩̻̮͊͋̾́͐͌̏͒̿̏̆̑͜͠ä̴̢̧̡̦͕̻̙̻͕̳̟́̊͊̾̄̈́ḿ̵̡̢̛̜͉̗̗̞͖̟͈̬͈̻͍͌̋̓̐̅͘͠e̵͇̹͈̤͕̮̺͉͚͈͔̭͇̔-?

The human then simply hums, shaking off the heavy feeling off their mind. Their gaze soon focuses back on Mr. Crawling's face, their smile creeping back on their features, but now brighter, happier.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ . つ ત บ บ ጉ ሰ ટ נ."— (Not Bad Feel Not Together)

They replied cheerfully, confidently using the otherworldly language to make sure there is no room for doubts left.

Upon hearing their answer and seeing that smile he absolutely adored, Mr. Crawling himself smiles back, letting that characteristic high-pitched giggle of of his. And just like (Y/N) expected, the crawling ghost reached out and gently patted their head, ruffling their grayish hair a little.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

(Y/N) giggled as well, already used to Mr. Crawling's joyful chirps at whatever little thing they do. Once satisfied, the ghost slowly retires his hand from their head and leans back to his previous position right next to the human in a raincoat, his dark locks trailing behind and sliding off (Y/N)'s legs as he gives them a little bit of space.

They hum, that happy smile remaining on their lips, brightening a bit their bandage-covered face, returning some of color and life to it. The human soon shift their attention back to what they were previously up to, which was scavenging and going through all the junk and rumble that fell down here from the human world.

While (Y/N) is the one going through the numerous items, Mr. Crawling remained focused on them. Staying next to their crouched form and curiously watching the things they periodically picked up and inspected, sometimes even picking something himself and asking what it is and what humans do with it.

The activity was simple, but it was like a huge breath of air for (Y/N) and a great way to distract their mind from the decay this world was putting them through, helping them remember who they are and what are supposed to be. A human, an unfortunate human that found themselves in this place of absolute madness...

(Y/N)'s train of thoughts stopped when their eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of something bright and colorful under a small pile of old, messed news articles. And after carefully pushing aside all the trash, they get a clear sight of what it is.

A manga cover!

(Y/N)'s eyes widened and their smile grew as they reach out and grab the manga book, picking it up and instantly flipping through the pages.

—"No way, it's actually in good, readable condition!"—

They exclaimed excitedly, eyes wandering through the pages with interest.

Mr. Crawling simply observed, curiously watching them inspect the book. He noticed that (Y/N) would always get super excited whenever they saw one of these colorful pictures, and it made him happy to see them happy! As well as to keep a mental note to find more of these to make them even happier.

However, as the human paused on one of the pages, probably to check if the paper is holding up alright after getting a little wet. Something completely different caught the ghost's attention.

Slowly, Mr. Crawling reaches his hand again, pointing at a particular drawing with his finger while tilting his head to the side, like a confused puppy would.

—"נ บ ਦ ኟィд ⊔ ટ ৺ ㅗ?"— (What They Do)

He asked, gently tapping the picture with his finger.

(Y/N) glances at the spot their ghost companion is pointing at, their eyebrows rising slightly as they see an illustration of two of the characters kissing. Oh, did they just spoiled themselves one of the subplots?...

—"This?"—

They asks, eyes flickering between the comic and Mr. Crawling's face.

—"π々⊔ λ ک つ ત コ ጉ ک こ?"— (Why Touch Mouth)

The ghost asked again, genuine curiosity lingering in his quiet voice as he taps the paper again, his head turning to the side to look at (Y/N). Despite half of his face being covered by his dark hair, they could practically feel his curious stare, almost like a kid waiting for his parent to answer.

—"ک ጉ ㄷ π π々⊔ ?"— (Teach Why)

He asks, now his attention completely casted on (Y/N), patiently waiting for their answer.

The mentioned human stays silent at fist, seemingly surprised the ghost actually doesn't know what a kiss is and why people do it. However, the more they think about it, the less he can blame Mr. Crawling. After all, this world is not built for affection, and considering all the dangers that lurk here on daily basis, it's not too surprising that some residents of this place don't even know what affection is.

—"Well. This is called a kiss, 'kiss'."—

They explain, pointing at their lips as they spell the word for him.

—"K- K̴̻̍-K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾-?"—

He attempts to repeat, though the sound comes more as a hiss rather than an actual word... Still, (Y/N) was proud of him for trying! And expresses such joy with a soft giggle.

—"Yeah, kiss. Uh..."—

They paused, thinking over their wording before continuing.

—"☨ บ п ป Kiss ત λ コㄷ ک ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ."— (Human _ Desire Teach Love)

They finish, scratching their cheek with a sheepish smile, knowing that their explanation probably sounded wonky a weird, especially with that little mix between languages.

The ghost, makes a small "oh" sound, actually understanding their answer even with the odd wording.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling's face lightens in puppy-like joy as he leans closer, his face just inches away from the human's when he starts to chirp back.

—"ત λ コㄷ ک ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Desire Teach Love)

(Y/N) raised their eyebrows at his words, their cheeks suddenly feeling a little warmer.

(Hold on, is he asking me for a kiss?!)

As flustered as they were, upon seeing that excited, happy smile of the ghost that they grew so attached to, they couldn't find the heart to tell him no even if their life depended on it. Beside, it's just a kiss, and they both like each other! So why not?

—"Eh... Hehehe. Okay, okay. You kiss like this."—

They answer, before suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips against the cold skin of his cheek.

A soft, quiet gasp escaped the ghost's lips, the difference in temperature between his and (Y/N) body never failing to make his chest feel all funny, though not unpleasant type of funny. But now with the added softness of their lips and the hot breath casted on his face, it created a sensation he haven't felt before.

The human leans back a little, chuckling under their breath at the ghost's reaction. However, their smile begin to fade when they notice how still he suddenly got.

They go silent, patiently waiting for Mr. Crawling to say or do something, but he remained perfectly still and dead silent, like some kind of creepy statue. Did they just cross some boundary they didn't know about?...

—"Mr. Crawling?..."— you ask eventually, voice quiet. —"Are you alright? Did I-..."—

(Y/N) paused when he finally does move, slowly lifting his hand from the opened manga book and brushing his fingers against his cheek, right on the spot they kissed him a second ago.

Suddenly, another high-pitched giggle escaped the ghost as he immediately launches forward, forcing (Y/N) back and basically tackling them to the ground into that famous overzealous hug of his they came to secretly adore.

—"K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ ! K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ !"—

He cheerfully exclaims with his broken human speech, before mimicking (Y/N)'s action and pressing his lips against their cheek. Though, more than an kiss his gesture resembled a nuzzle, like big dog gently bumping his favorite person with his nose.

—"৺ ጉ נ ⊔ λ ત д ک ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Me Want to Teach Love)

(Y/N) just couldn't help but laugh at the sweet action of the ghost, their cheeks turning much redder and warmer than before. With their hands no longer being occupied by the manga book, they reach and rest their hands on Mr. Crawling's back, basically hugging him back as the entity continues to joyfully express his liking through the newfound gesture.

—"You're doing it pretty good! But this is not exactly a kiss..."—

They eventually say, sliding their hands from his back and instead resting them on his shoulders. At the sound of their voice, Mr. Crawling's affectionate nuzzles pause and leans back, tilting his head to the side with curiosity.

—"Yeah, you need to press your lips, not caress with them. Ehm..."—

They fall silent, their gaze adverting for a brief moment as they try to find the needed words to describe what they're trying to say, but all they get is a reminder of how poor and limited the ghost vocabulary is...

Mr. Crawling remained quiet, patiently waiting for (Y/N) to figure out their wording. He didn't mind the wait at all to be honest, patience being one of his biggest virtues after all. Beside, seeing the human mumble and emit noises under their breath while making funny faces, such as pushing their lips or furrowing their brows, was a very cute sight to witness!

When realized that words, human or not, won't cut it. (Y/N) decided to use actions instead, as their head was starting to hurt at this point from this damn language barrier. So, with a soft sigh their eyes flicker back at Mr. Crawling, who was still patiently waiting for them to figure out their wording, or maybe taking the chance to look and admire their face, or maybe both...

—"৺ ጉ נ ک ጉ ㄷ π ત ટ д Kiss."— (Me Teach You)

They finally said, a hint of determination in their tone, though it was mostly directed to (Y/N) as they try to push through their own sudden rush of shyness and fluster. How comes they can be all giggly and cuddly when Mr. Crawling literally tackles them, but then turn into a blushing mess from a little kiss?! Ugh, even they start to make less sense the more they stay in this world...

At their words, the ghost seemed almost ecstatic. He already was eager to get any sort of attention from (Y/N), let alone affection. So the mere thought of feeling their lips pressed against his skin again made his whole body almost shake.

(Y/N) could feel the ghost's body grow tense from the overwhelming joy, and it was such a strangely endearing sight to witness; an otherworldly entity acting like an overjoyed puppy about to receive his favorite treat.

They giggle again, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before speaking.

—"Okay hehe... Eeh... Look, you kiss like this, 々ኟп৺."— (Look)

They say before leaning closer, the distance between their and Mr. Crawling's face growing smaller and smaller, until their lips finally come in contact with the ghost's other cheek.

They can feel him shiver, clearly still not used to the new sensation, but he was definitely loving it judging by the way his long arms slightly closed around their body, almost hugging them and pressing their smaller form against his taller one.

(Y/N) leans back a tiny bit, taking the chance to simply look at the entity who was holding them in it's embrace so tenderly. Of course, this is not the first, nor last, time they'll be held by Mr. Crawling. But... Right now, there's something different, they feel different. Their heart is pounding like crazy, yes. But they no longer feel flustered or embarrassed, they feel strangely in peace in fact.

There's always been something captivating about the crawling ghost, even with his unnerving traces. The way his long, black hair surrounds them, a void that's isolating both from the outside world, covering them like a veil, making each the protagonist of the other's gaze. For a monster-filled place like this, the moment felt almost romantic.

The human let a soft exhale, their lips parting ever so slightly. And before their brain could even realize it, (Y/N) was already leaning forward again.

They don't know what came over them, but their mind, their heart, and even that little voice was telling them the same thing...

{Do it.)

They press their lips again, this time against the tip of his nose, getting one of these little "eh" sounds out of him.

They didn't stop there however, instead starting to pepper the ghost's face with more kisses. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw...

(Y/N)'s movements were slow and delicate, keeping in mind the comfort of their otherworldly companion as they shower him with this new, intimate affection. They weren't quite sure what he was thinking about all of this, if he was getting overwhelmed or not, if he truly enjoyed or understood how much this moment meant for humans... But by how his arms seem to close more around their smaller form, how his fingers flex around the fabric of their raincoat, how his body seemed to gradually relax and even lean into the new, loving gesture...

Yeah, they knew he understood.

However, as (Y/N) was about to reach his lips, an inexplicable wave of hesitation came all over them, freezing them in place and incapacitating from moving back of forward, their heartbeat getting surprisingly, almost painfully loud.

(What's going on?)

(Why am I feeling so... Self-conscious?)

(No... No. I want to do it, I need to do it! Come on body, move! Move god damnit!)

They screamed inside of their mind, yet their body still refused to move, regardless of all the mental berating they were putting themselves through. Their grip on Mr. Crawling's shoulder tightened a little, like a silent attempt to ground themselves and remember just how close the ghost was, how he was waiting for them to continue, how he was waiting for them. But... They... They just couldn't move.

However, after a few beats of silence and inactivity had passed, is Mr. Crawling the one to finally break the tension and lean forward, his cold lips pressing against the warm ones of the human.

And just like that, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away in (Y/N), and everything felt alright again. No, more than alright. This felt perfect, intimate, sweet, and surprisingly innocent. Holding nothing but the affection, care and love the two beings felt for one another, now in it's purest way.

A human.

And a ghost.

Together, connected to each other not just in a physical way, but now in a deep, emotional way...

The kiss itself probably didn't last even 10 seconds, but in (Y/N)'s and Mr. Crawling's mind it felt like two eternities had passed, and many more would if they'd decided to keep going.

After breaking the kiss, the two just stay like this for a while, looking at each other as their minds clear from the haze and feeling of drunkenness the sweet exchange left behind. Mr. Crawling still on top of (Y/N), but instead of just hovering over them like he always did, now his arms were tightly wrapped around their frame, keeping them securely in place right between the ground and his body.

(Y/N) couldn't explain it, but right now they feel like they're falling again for the ghost. Just by being held in his embrace and hidden underneath his larger body, they felt so safe and at peace... So...

It's like they were home.

Their home...

He became their home, their safe place, their happy place...

Him...

—"λ ک ሰ ৺ ટ ?"— (Are you okay)

Mr. Crawling suddenly asked, his smile faltering as his embrace on them tightens a little. It was almost like he was concerned he did something wrong and broke them, what a sweetheart.

(Y/N) blinked, noticing they were probably staring and zoning out with this little realization of theirs, realization that their real home was not in this or their world.

It was with Mr. Crawling.

Or at least, that's what their heart told them.

—"I'm fine."—

The human said in a soft voice. Their body leaning forward while speaking, snuggling closer to the ghost's chest, the action feeling like a little dejavu to the time he hid them from the man in red.

Ugh... The sole mention of that guy is still sending shivers through their body, so let's not think about him.

—"৺コኅ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ৺ ጉ נ ሰ ኟ つ ጉ."— (Us Together Me Happy)

Mr. Crawling didn't take long to let yet another high-pitched giggle, his head coming to rest on top of (Y/N)'s, nuzzling gently against their hair and raincoat hood.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

He chirped cheerfully, his arms tightening just a little to give the human a gentle squeeze.

—"ત ટ д ሰ ኟ つ ጉ ৺ ጉ נ ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (You Happy Me Grateful)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like You)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like Together You)

All (Y/N) could do at the moment is giggle and attempt to keep up with his excitement. Jeez, they forgot how talkative Mr. Crawling gets when excited. They reach out at some point, affectionately rubbing his back like a quiet request to slow down, which the ghost quickly complies by stopping his speech and instead resorting just to the nuzzling.

The two remained like this for quite a while, just enjoying this precious moment of having each other close. Even if they knew that the next time (Y/N) needs to take a nap, they'll be in embraced again.

—"Alright, that's enough for now.—

The human muttered, giving the ghost's back a few gentle pats like a way of saying that they wanted him to move.

Mr. Crawling doesn't try to protest at all, surprisingly. And after giving one more squeeze, his arms loosen around (Y/N)'s form and he slowly lets go, his body getting off them and instead settling right by their side. That's probably the reason he didn't complain about letting go, knowing he'd be next to them one way or another.

(Y/N) chuckled again at the ghost's sneaky antics, finding them pretty adorable. And after reaching out to pat his head again, the human settles into a more comfortable position and grabs the manga book they previously dropped from Mr. Crawling's surprise-tackle-hug.

—"Okay, let's see what this is about..."—

The human muttered to themselves while opening the book and starting to read the story, deciding to go blind into it and discover the plot as they progress with the story.

Mr. Crawling in the meantime had found his comfortable spot by placing his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder, with one of his arms resting across their waist, keeping them in this half hug.

Even if the ghost didn't understand a word, the illustrations of the manga were very helpful and allowed him to follow the story along with the human. Though there were things he also didn't quite understand about human behavior, it wasn't a big deal since (Y/N) would always chive in and explain him things.

As the two lay there, reading, Mr. Crawling suddenly lifted his head and pressed his lips against (Y/N)'s cheek gently, this time actually kissing them.

—"৺ ጉ נ ک ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д ! "— (Me Teach Love You)

He said in a sweet, happy tone that nearly made (Y/N)'s heart explode. Ugh, seriously who gave him the right to be so cute!?

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป."— (Grateful)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ৺ ጉ נ ?"— (Like Me)

(Aaand there he goes again. Yup, high-maintenance type...)

(But he's my high-maintenance type.)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д."— (Like You)

They replied warmly, planting another kiss on top of his head, gaining yet another lovely giggle from the entity before returning their attention to the manga. The ghost soon following their example, settling back into his previous position, occasionally nuzzling against their shoulder like an affectionate cat. They could swear he'd be purring if he could.

And while reading the manga, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, but also dread a little at how the next days would go now that Mr. Crawling learned about kissing and what it meant...

...

They're going to get tackled A LOT.

"Won't they?"

#nothomegal fic #homicipher #homicipher fic #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #mr crawling x mc #gn reader #gn y/n #homicipher x reader #gn mc

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xinganhao · 20 days ago

Text

🎲 junhui x drama fan!reader.

you're just a little bit oblivious to the fact that the internet friend you run a k-drama account with is none other than junhui himself. headcanons & bonus content under the cut. ➤ see also: svt burner accounts series

🎲 season one .ᐟ

episode one: jun always knew that there was a side of the internet where people talked exclusively about dramas. he figured it would be very much like every other fandom space. debates, fangirling, the like. when he started his burner nwjun, it wasn't even with the intention to talk with anybody. he just wanted to be in on the conversation, wanted to know what everybody was watching out for.

you were one of the first people to begin interacting with jun. you tell him, nowadays, that you once thought he was so cross, because he barely responded to any of your replies or dms. the truth of the matter was simple. jun wasn't in the business of getting caught. this burner account was his safe space, his little corner of the internet where he could be just jun. not junhui of seventeen, not junhui the actor. just... jun.

except one day you make a point that he absolutely cannot help but disagree with, and jun can't help but go swinging into your direct messages. his passionate rant about the merits of translating dramas is what kicks start your friendship, for better or for worse.

episode two: it took jun some convincing to join kdrwatch with you. it had been your thing in the first place— your little passion project where you could scream about korean dramas to a thousand-something people. after months of back-and-forths, you invited jun to be an admin. he thought it over for about a month before deciding, fuck it, and signing on with you.

jun is convinced it's one of the best, most stupid decisions of his life. he doesn't quite know why it makes him so happy, to run this semi-popular drama account jointly with you. he doesn't even have to do much! he posts screenshots. his to-watch lists. maybe an update here and there. but, for the most part, he's just shouting to the void about the things that he likes.

and jun loves it. absolutely enjoys every minute of it. it helps that you're there, too, on the other side of the screen, indulging his character analyses and throwing more recommendations his way. here, he feels normal. he feels seen. he feels alive.

episode three: does jun feel bad that you don't know who he really is? ... not quite. it's not like you've really asked, either. he gives out bits and pieces of himself, just enough for him to not feel like a stranger. he reassures you that he's not some fifty-year-old creep. and, well, it's right there. he didn't even try to hide it behind an alias or anything.

maybe that's why jun gets bold sometimes. maybe that's why he'll flirt a little, why he'll slip in a pickup line or two. he teases you about being someone famous, about being an actor, about being a star, and your disbelief at every turn only spurs him on.

you're friends with jun not because he's an idol, but because he's some guy on the internet who likes the same things as you do. somehow, that's enough for you, and that's almost baffling to him. he always thought he had to be this impressive, imposing thing for his words to matter, and yet you're here proving him otherwise. is it a gift? a curse? he hasn't figured it out yet.

episode four: jun feels like this whole thing could almost be the plot of a drama itself. he can see it in his mind's eye.

he just doesn't know if he's the male lead you're looking for.

but god, does he want to be.

BONUS CONTENT .ᐟ

#junhui x reader #jun x reader #junhui smau #jun smau #jun imagines #junhui imagines #svt smau #seventeen smau #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #── ᵎᵎ ✦ series: svt burner #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #[ the inspo for this hit me like a truck and i knew if i didn't do it now i would never get it again . so ]#[ i hope it's not that too hard to follow :(( i'm a little worried it may read as convoluted? lol ]#[ anyway. the matching icons. the 25/21. jun when i catch u jun ]

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ariseur · 6 months ago

Note

hi love!! i saw that your requests are open and im here to help🫡

can i request some red dead headcanons/blurbs? maybe what their affection/kisses are like? arthur, john, javier and charles are my pookies (especially charles oh my god i love him so so much) but i would love to hear your thoughts on anybody really!!

hope you’re doing well <3

AFFECTIONATE - VAN DER LINDE BOYS

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - for some reason i cannot post rdr2 with my manga headers or cutesy pink dividers it feels so off to me i have no idea why 😭 but thank you for sending this request in, i love it sooo much!’ it’s nice to see another charles lover in this fandom lolol— you take care as well!! 🫶

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - mentions of injuries in kieran’s and charles, kisses and kissing (?), hispanic!reader / spanish speaking!reader in mind for javier’s, intended lowercase, alcohol and drinking in sean’s, lmk if i missed anything!! 🫶

ARTHUR MORGAN who will put calloused hands around your waist when you’re alone in your tent at night, burrowing his nose in your hair as he lays behind you. you can smell his musk, the scent of the outdoors and faded linen, as it clings onto you with its tight grip and lingers. you don’t mind though, and neither does arthur; simply basking in your warmth as the crickets chirp in harmony with your soft exhales.

“‘ve missed you.” you say, your right hand crawling to interlock itself with his own draped over your waist as it fiddles with the soft skin there.

“missed y’too, darlin’.” you can feel his chest rumble with his voice, tone deep and gravelly from the lack of use. you let your eyes close as you savored the feeling of his hands caressing the small chub that gathered itself in his hands when he squished too much. you would give anything to have moments like these with arthur whenever you could.

JOHN MARSTON who’ll scoff as you pressed kisses along his face, sitting on his lap as the campfire graced your bodies with its warm glow. his affections held a more stand-offish tone to them but on the off occasional that he got a little too tipsy, you could never pry him off of you.

“if i’d’a known any better, i’d have thought you was in love wit’ me,” he huffed. regardless of his dumb comments, his hands never failed to find their way upon the dips of your hips, rubbing circles over the fabric of your clothes.

you bumped your head into his head as he chuckled, raspy voice rumbling throughout his chest as you halted your kisses and instead rested your head on his shoulder. your foot, bare and tapping against the ground in tune with the distant strums of javier’s guitar and karen’s drunken singing kept you grounded — kept you remembering that this was real, this was all real; and you were alive.

“why? you complainin’?”

you felt john’s cheeks widen with his grin. “naw,” was all he said.

two things that JAVIER ESCUELLA cherished most in this world were family and freedom; and he knew that he felt at peace knowing he had both of these things in that moment. you by his side, as neither of you had a care in the world. the sun glimmered and lazed around, taking its place on your backs and replacing the cool, dawn air with its heat. affection with javier is passionate and it’s scary, you never know what you’ll get or suffer the next day but it doesn’t matter — you persevere knowing you’ll find home in his arms a night more, you’ll live long enough to seek refuge and if you died in the process; it’d be okay knowing you died with who you loved.

deft fingers came to slide up and down the wooden fretboard along with his other hand plucking on the strings. you hadn’t realized you’d been staring until he peeked one eye open from under his bowler hat, a teasing smirk on his face as he mumbled, “no me miras con esos ojos, corazón.”

you rolled your eyes, “que quieres decir, javi?”

he hummed, he knew you knew what he meant — and you knew that he knew. but for now, you’d continue to stare, admiring your beloved that sat so prettily on that log; simply playing his guitar. he had his freedom, and he had his family right here.

loud laughs erupted from the obnoxious irishman known as SEAN MACGUIRE, a jug of alcohol in his hand and his darling in the other.

“i’m tellin’ ya, luckiest man alive—! they said they loved me, can y’believe it?” his accent only got thicker by the minute as he raved to everybody that walked by about how you had suddenly professed your love once more as you two sat on the barrel circling the rounded, wooden table. you smacked his arm to which he let out a rasping cackle. “shut up, will you?”

“ah, never. y’know ya love me,” he puckered his lips dramatically as you scoffed. giving him a chaste kiss, he groaned as you pulled away too quick before you went in deeper, seeing his eyes widen in shock before yours fluttered closed. he laughed out the side of his mouth before his hand, ever so gentle, buried itself in your hair. sean was a loud lover, one you’d typically be embarrassed by — but that only meant he loved you more than anything. a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts and he had you on his mind all the time.

CHARLES SMITH who’ll treat your wounds silently, as he always did except this time would be different. a tense silence would fill your tent other than murmured hisses and apologies due to the peroxide and other various natural remedies he preserved for your care. charles would always keep a level head, warning you not to go on jobs that micah would egg you on yet charles would always wait for you to return.

he never said anything during these times, charles loved silently. instead of telling you he loved you every second or having you on his lap like others, he’d bring you a trinket you remembered wanting from a storefront window or he’d take you out hunting with him; teaching you how to properly set up bait ( not in the reckless way that sean or bill would attempt to mansplain about ). he’d take care of you and he’d listen to you. so when you’d gasp and bite your fist from how badly he had to stitch your leg up, his hand would grab yours and bring it down to rest on your thigh — intertwining fingers as his thumb grazed over the crescent shaped marks your teeth left.

you really did love KIERAN DUFFY, seeing the way he’d try to puff his chest out when the guys at camp would look at you when really, he’d get all shy and blushy when you babied him. he wasn’t so used to this sorta thing, you know, relationships. everybody in camp looked at you like you were crazy, but they knew better than to tell that to you ( or him ), knowing they’d only get an earful from you about how sweet kieran really was.

you’d dress his wounds and in return, you’d find your horse prepped and groomed all pretty in the mornings — already fed and provided with water. and when you’d ask arthur or tilly, they’d always shrug and say, “must be that o’driscoll boy.”

you treated him with care, like no one had ever had, and that was the greatest gift in itself to kieran. he saw you as an angel, he’d even try telling you sometimes although backtracking a bit just to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. kieran duffy’s affection was careful and nervous, stiff gestures presented to you although all of his worries melted away once he heard your sweet laugh. he didn’t know much about this stuff but that was okay, he’d learn just for you.

𐙚 taglist ; @ch3rryfiles @maskedteaser

𐙚 requests are closed — june twenty eighth, 2024

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crushedbyhyperbole · 10 months ago

Text

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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queers-gambit · 10 months ago

Text

Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname [ Bunny ], Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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crusty-chronicles · 11 months ago

Text

HxH Men Throwing Down with their S/O's Plushies

Synopsis: How hxh men react to your plushie collection, and if they'd fight them when you're not there.

An: I'm tired of all the fine men being ignored in the HxH fandom. Here's a Valentine's Day special of some of my favorites who are always overlooked for the most white bread, cardboard personality, toxic men.*cough cough* adult trio* cough cough*

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

Leorio 🩺

100% fights your plushies

Without a doubt he throws down with them when you're not there. Even when you're in the room he's throwing hands.

And it is personal 😤

You've caught him on several occasions saying- "Think you can sleep next to my girl/man and get away with it?!? You homewrecker!!!!”

It's honestly really funny to see him put one of your giant bears in a headlock.

But you have to stop him before he tears it because those things are expensive goddamit.

“Leave him alone. I've had him for about ten years and I doubt you could find me another one. So drop him,” you lecture.

And he begrudgingly drops your big teddy bear. But not before complaining that you love it more than him.

All pouty and upset until you kiss his cheek and reassure him.

“Babe, they're not alive. You have absolutely no competition for my heart.”

He knows that, but they're everywhere. Watching him with their beady little eyes from their place on your bed.

Which reminds me-

He piledrives your little plushies when you're not in the room.

If he had it his way, they'd all be locked away somewhere.

But because he loves you with his whole heart, he moves them away from your side of the bed to his.

What? Those little bastards thought they'd get to sleep next to you when he's home? Not a chance!

He hates them for the attention you give them, but he also contributes to your collection.

Whenever he's got funds to spare, he'll bring you home a new addition.

With the condition that you give him twice as many cuddles ☝️

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

Ging 🎣

He's a little less aggressive than Leorio, but he still fights your plushies.

And he fights with the intent to win.

Which more often than not leads them to getting ruined.

Tackles the absolute hell out of your big plushies. Then he'll jab it's stomach a few times.

“Getting a little too comfortable on my side, Jeremiah?”

If they're on the bed, they're on the floor when you get back.

Doesn't really do it for jealousy, but because he thinks your reaction is funny.

He'll throw one of the smaller ones off and you let out the most offended gasp.

“You stop that right now! You're gonna get him dirty! And I can't put him in the washer!”

He comes up with excuses too, just to see how much you'll let him get away with.

“That one was looking at me funny.” “You've got a place on your bed for each and every one of those little shittlings, but absolutely no room for me. It's not fair.” “I didn't get you that one, so it's under the bed where it belongs.”

The answer: you let him get away with a lot. You secretly think it's cute, but it's annoying how filthy he gets them.

He also steals them from time to time.

Totally not because he likes having something of you when he's away. What? You're crazy 🙄🙄🙄

He'll complain, but he'll always get you replacements for the ones he damages. He'll even get you the jumbo versions of the little ones.

Just because he loves you, despite his lackluster way of showing it.

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

Morel 🚬

He's pretty respectful about it

Does not fight them.

But, every man has his weakness.

So there are times when he'll pick one of the smaller ones up and inspect it. Right before he squeezes it completely in his hand.

Why does he do it? Just because.

They're like little stress balls

And it's during one of these moments of weakness that you catch him.

“You're choking out my poor frog! Let him go before his eye pops out!”

And he laughs. He thinks it's sweet how much you love these things.

Even if you've got them on shelves and they stare into his soul at night.

He makes it a habit not to smoke or use his ability in front of them.

They hold too much sentimental value to you. And the last thing he wants is for you to get upset.

But the squishing? It doesn't stop.

It's like they're begging to be smooshed.

And you never fail to get after him every time.

“Quit abusing my babies!” You scold before taking back your stuffed rabbit.

He lets you have another bed to put all your plushies on.

He's a big man 😤😤😤 He can't afford space to share with them. He also likes to sleep next to his partner undisturbed, thank you 😤.

Also contributes to your collection.

And we're not talking every once and a while.

He's got that hunter money, so if you see something you want, it's yours

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

Knov 👔

Arguably the most mature of the bunch

Your precious little babies are safe from him

It doesn't even cross his mind to fight them

That being said, your plushies aren't allowed on the bed at all ☹️

“I refuse to have my sleeping space occupied by that thing.” He said, gesturing to a very well loved seal plush. One of its eyes missing.

“What’s wrong with Samuel?”

“Look at it. The poor thing's traumatized. And you're gonna end up choking on its stuffing.”

They aren't even allowed in the bedroom on shelves.

However☝️, he does end up doing something special for you because of how much you adore your plushies.

He lets you dedicate one entire room to your collection. Buy a little bed for you to put them on. Even gets special shelves installed for you.

That's their room and theirs alone.

Also encourages you to get more now that you have ample space for them.

Every trip/mission he leaves for, he always makes sure to bring you something back.

Whether it be one of the huge bears or a little keychain plush, he gets it for you.

Definitely not a man afraid to spend on his S/O and their interest.

He also doesn't bat an eye at the attention you give them.

They mean a lot to you, but so does he judging by the way you're always ready to compromise

That and the way you cuddle closer to him at night and say-

“You're a whole lot better than even my softest of plushies.”

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

Knuckle 🐕

On a bad day, it's on sight.

Always the bigger ones too

“What're you looking at?” And then he'll wrestle whatever poor plush caught his eye first.

But he feels incredibly bad about it afterwards

Picking up your little dinosaur nugget plush with tears in his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. You're mother's/father's gonna kill me for this.”

Even goes as far as to stitch up any little holes if he damaged them.

What can I say? He's a total softie

Like many of the men on here, he does contribute to your collection.

But you also inadvertently make him start his own 💀

You'll buy one for yourself and because it needs a friend, you buy another.

Only to gift it to him because ‘They’re dating like us.’ 🥺

That's how it starts.

You start buying plushies in pairs.

One for you and one for him.

It never fails to make Knuckle cry.

“Babe really? You didn't have to.”

And he's cradling the little dog plush you got him with such care. Like it's the most delicate thing in the world.

He, of course, makes sure to get another set to pay you back.

Plushies in the bed?

100%

No complaints here.

Even memorizes the names of all of them.

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

Kurapika ⛓️

He simply does not have the energy to fight your plushies

He comes home tired and drained, understandably. And the first thing he does is collapse on the bed, right on top of them.

Doesn't think twice about it. In fact, he likes the extra cushion they provide.

And you don't mind all that much either. Kurapika does a lot. He's been through a lot.

If he wants to rest right on top of your plushies, he's more than welcome.

However, when he's not completely exhausted, he's mean to them ☹️

He'll push off the ones on his side of the bed to make space for himself. And he will not pick them up

Or he'll hide the one you usually snuggle with at night so he can cuddle you himself.

He just wants your warmth after a long day. Is that so much to ask for?

“Kurapika, have you seen my octopus plush anywhere?”

And he'll look away guiltily before mumbling a ‘No. Can't say that I have.’

But he always puts it back when he knows he'll be gone for a while.

He knows it brings you comfort, and who is he to take that away from you.

He does get pouty when you give them extra attention.

“I've been gone for a month and you're too busy cleaning that thing to greet me.” He complains.

Only for you to get up and wrap your arms around him. Giving his cheek a smooch before saying-

“You know you're precious to me. But I wouldn't be so busy cleaning my baby if you'd stop leaving him on the floor.”

He makes it up to you everytime by getting you another one.

He always makes sure to pick you something up when he comes back from searching for his clan's eyes.

A little thank you for always waiting for him and giving endless patience.

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

Kite 🪁

Another man whom your plushies are safe from

He's supportive of your collection, but all he asks is that they don't take up the entire bed.

If they do, he's a little mean about it and organizes them all on your side.

That's about as far as he goes with messing with them.

He definitely builds you shelves to keep them in

Again, the less of them in the bed, the more space you two have.

He thinks it's cute how much you care about them, and likes to indulge you by asking how you got them.

He listens to each and every story you have and why each plush is special to you.

Safe to say, this man does not get jealous

A piece of fluff with stuffing is the last thing he's worried about

That being said, he contributes less frequently to your collection than the other men on this list

He limits them to special occasions like your birthday or an anniversary.

Why?

He wants to make sure each one is attached to a special moment so you hold them just as dear as your other ones.

An import memory that you're able to hold onto

He's also careful around your plushies.

He doesn't wanna get them dirty or accidentally tear them because of how much they mean to you.

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

Wing 👓

This man right here is a 10/10

The absolute sweetest man

The thought doesn't even cross his mind to throw down with your plushies

In fact, he prides himself on taking care of them while you're out

Dusting them off, reorganizing them, stitching up any little holes he sees

Also someone who goes out of his way to memorize all their names.

Knows each one by heart because he always listens intently when you talk about them

Your big dinosaur?

That's Chungus.

The little raccoon?

Sylvester.

You want the plushies in bed?

Of course! Each one has their own special place. And he makes sure there's enough space for the both of you.

If he's got money to spare, he's definitely gonna get you something.

You don't even have to ask, he's already bringing you home a little duck plush that Zushi thought you'd like. What can he say? The kid adores you

This man doesn't get jealous whatsoever

In fact, you're the one who ends up getting pouty because he's taking fantastic care of your plushies.

“Honey, I want cuddles.” You whine.

And he's cleaning off one of your bears with a damp rag.

“In a minute, dearest. You got him dirty last night.”

But as soon as he's done, you've got his full attention

He just knows how much you love those things and wants you to be able to cherish them for as long as possible.

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

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕💕💕💕

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landograndprix · 11 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

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y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? 😔

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando x reader #charles x reader

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lurkingshan · 2 months ago

Text

Love in the Big City: A Proposal to Extend the Discourse

youtube

Many of us have been anticipating this full length drama adaptation of the beloved novel by Sang Young Park for months, and when you watch the trailer above, you can see why: this is a queer story through and through, written semi-autobiographically by a queer man in South Korea about his own experiences, and then lovingly and determinedly made into a live action drama to bring his story to more people. It's a landmark show in the Korean media landscape; nothing of its kind has been made before. And that is exactly why the show is drawing harsh backlash before it even airs. It's too honest, too heartfelt, too steeped in empathy and understanding for the nuances of the queer experience in a suppressive society, and that scares people who want to continue shoving queer folks back in the closet.

As a result of this backlash, the story, which mirrors the novel by being structured in four parts with a different director and focus story in each set of two episodes, is being released in one giant episode dump to ensure that it all makes it onto air. Sang Young Park himself confirmed that conservative groups in South Korea are trying to prevent this show from being seen, and he is fighting to keep promoting it and will ensure its release on October 21st. It will air on TVING in South Korea and on Viki for the international audience.

The best thing we can do to fight back against this kind of censorship is to watch the show loudly, to write and make art about it and celebrate it, and to do that for more than just a couple days. Earlier this year, @bengiyo and I started the Love in the Big City book club to read the novel with friends in anticipation of this drama's release. For four weeks we coordinated weekly discussion posts to correspond to each part of the story, and we intend to do the same with the show. Given what's going on with attempts to suppress this story, I want to open up that invitation beyond those of us who are participating in the book club to include anyone who wants to watch and talk about this show, regardless of whether you've read the novel.

So here's the proposal:

Beginning Monday, October 21st when the show drops, we'll each watch the show on whatever cadence we like (personally, I will be watching two episodes at a time with breaks in between, because that is how it was made and intended to be seen)

Regardless of when we each actually watch it, we will post weekly starting on Mondays about each part of the story in turn. So the week of October 21st we will post art and meta and reactions to Part 1 (episodes 1 and 2), and each subsequent week we'll post about the next part (or each set of two episodes).

Ben and I will also write up and post book club discussion questions each Tuesday that will be more about the adaptation to live action and comparisons to the novel. Anyone who has read the book is very welcome to respond to those even if you haven't been in book club with us previously.

My hope with this proposed schedule is that we can keep discussion of the drama alive for a solid month and give it its full due. Tumblr is a crucial part of the fandom ecosystem and I want to do our part to ensure this show isn't buried. This is a complex story with so much nuance, and if we binge and forget about it in a few days, we cannot do it justice. I want to support Sang Young Park and so many others whose stories have been forced under wraps by this kind of oppression, and I would love it if you all would join me.

#love in the big city #litbc book club #korean bl #kdrama #shan shouts into the void

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rebelliousstories · 4 months ago

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Magical Relationships

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader, Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader (Platonic)

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by @oh-prettylady

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,466

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: He had spent so long looking for her, only to find that she was closer than ever suspected.

Consider Donating: Here

If there was one thing that Gambit always asked for whenever he could, it would forever be a relationship of his own. He had seen Jean and Scott fall in love, witnessed Beast try himself; hell, everyone he knew had tried. But for some reason, Jean and Scott were the only ones that made it work. But Remy wanted that. He wanted his own lady to call his, to love, and to spoil. When he came back from a mission one day, he got his wish.

A beautiful girl around his age had shown up with the Wolverine. She was shy, only sticking near the burly man, and not speaking to just about anyone. But she was gorgeous, sweet and kind. Her ability to transform into any animal she wished never ceased to amaze Remy when they were in the danger room.

Slowly but surely, she began warming up to the other, but not Gambit. She was still hesitant around him, refusing to say more than a few words to him. It threw the Cajun for a loop the first few times he tried to flirt with her.

“My, my, my, chere. Ya face would look so much prettier up close, ya know? Just close enough for a kiss perhaps.” This caused her to flush red.

“How’s about you and me go and paint the town red tonight, chere?” She turned to Logan for help who kindly told the man she was off limits.

“Oh, I’m feelin’ awfully weak, chere. I hear ya kisses are magic though. How’s about one for ya patient, yeah?” Turning to scamper off was her course of action for this.

Each time he tried to flirt with her, she refused. Maybe he was coming off too strong for her. He knew very little about her backstory when she came to the school. So, Remy decided to switch tactics. He tried to bond with her over something, anything. But they seemed to have very little in common. But he was desperate to have her talk to him in any way they could.

After a few weeks of this, Gambit made very little leeway in his attempt to talk with her. It was not until Logan decided to go off on his own again that he finally got a break. This was not how he wanted it to start, but it was how it happened. Remy had found her staring out of a window towards the road in the school on a day off for them.

“You miss da Wolverine, chere?” He asked quietly. She got a bit spooked, jumping in her seat, and went to leave.

“No, no. I didn’ mean t’ make ya scared. I can leave if ya want.” Holding his hands up, Gambit tried to make himself appear as non threatening as possible to the woman. But what she did next shocked him.

She shook her head, and patted the sot next to her in the window. Waiting, Remy tried to see what exactly she meant, which was met with her patting the spot once more. At her insistence, he made his way over, and slumped down into his seat.

“I just really miss him, you know?” She began, still staring. “He took care of me when I had no one around. It’s hard being without him, not knowing where he is or if he’s alive.”

“Oh, chere. Don’t worry ‘bout it. The Wolverine will come back soon. Besides, I’m pretty sure that man lives purely off of spite, so he be fine.” Remy tried to comfort the girl, but only felt like he was causing her more discomfort.

“You’re right,” she spoke after a brief silence, “Logan will be okay. He’ll come back.” Looking out the window, she looked towards the road once more before turning to the mutant to her right.

“I love your eyes, by the way.” This time, it was Gambit’s turn to be bashful. His face blushed something fierce as he turned away from her. He could only hope that she did not see what was happening to his face, or the smile that appeared on his face.

“You flatter Ol’ Gambit. Ain’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” He stammered out, hoping that she would let it go. But to his fortune, and mis. Fortune, she did not.

Her giggles rang out through the small nook that they were tucked away in, and Gambit turned to face her fully. Even he was not immune to her infectious laughter. Soon, he was joining her in his own deep chuckles that boomed out next to hers. After a few minutes, they began to wind down. And as he looked over at her from across the windowsill, Remy thought something to himself.

This might just work out.

After that night, it was like a flip had been switched. Instead of constantly being shy, and running away from the Cajun, she had begun to enjoy his company. She was enjoying a cup of tea with him in the morning while he made his coffee. In the evenings, she would make a bowl of ice cream for each of them to enjoy in front of the fire in the main study room.

And all through this, they grew closer. Remy’s flirting no longer made her anxious, it excited her. She still had yet to get over her blushing and shyness when he did so, but she was no longer running away which he considered a win in his books. Gambit so badly wanted to properly ask her out; it burned within him. But he had to contend with Logan coming after him.

Oh, he was well aware that the Wolverine would just give him the tough love act, but that did not make it any less intimidating to ask her pseudo-father for permission. It also did not help that the man was currently somewhere that they at the school could not reach him. So for the time being, Gambit was sticking to making her blush like a school girl at every chance he got.

Remy loved the challenge of getting her to blush harder and harder each time. Sometimes, it was the fact that it was in front of the other team members. Other times, it was because of what he had actually said. One particular instance stands out better than the rest.

“Chere, jus’ need t’ ask ya somethin’. Will you Brie mine?” Remy drawled out as he leaned against the counter. Storm, Beast, and Cyclops were sitting at the table nearby and actively listening to what was coming next.

“Don’t you ever get tired of thinking up different pickup lines to use on me?” She teased back, finishing her making of food at the stove.

“Ain’t no trouble to the Gambit if he has t’ think of you. So whatcha say?” There was quiet laughter coming from the table nearby.

“Can I at least have my breakfast first?” Her tone was teasing, even if her words were annoyed.

“Never too early to start the greatest love story ever.”

“Sometimes it is.” The laughing stopped. Gambit stopped in his tracks, and was afraid to turn and face the voice behind him.

“Logan, you’re back!” Her plate was quickly abandoned in favor for wrapping her arms around his neck. His own found a home wrapped around her back before they pulled away.

“Missed me, kid?” A smirk toyed at the edge of his lips.

“Maybe a little.” She admitted; a smile of her own forming on her lips.

“Now, what was this I hear about you wanting to ask the kid out, Cajun?” Logan near growled in his low-rumbling voice.

“Now, Mon Ami, jus’ remember is just Gambit.” He stammered out, holding his hands up defensively. The Wolverine placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop what he was saying immediately.

“Treat her right, or you’re turning into a kebab. I’m going to unpack and go to bed.” Passing the girl on his way back to his room, Logan gave her one last pat on the shoulder and left. There was a stunned silence that enveloped the entire room as everyone tried to process the events that had just unfolded.

“So, Remy,” she began with a teasing tone, “something you wanna ask me?”

He could not speak. The smooth talking Cajun was speechless after that interaction. But once he began to recover, a smirk overtook his rugged features. He walked up closer to the woman and placed a hand back on the counter.

“Will you go out with me, chere?” Remy finally asked her.

“Of course, Gambit. Besides, I have a man waiting to turn you into a kebab if you mess up.” She began to laugh, but the color started drawing from his face once more.

#rebelliousstories #writing #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit #gambit imagine #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men movies #x men imagine #x men #deadpool and wolverine

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natewriteslol · 6 months ago

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Hiii! I read your works alot because it's one of the active twst writers I see (I'm a dead writer myself LMAO)

Savanaclaw, riddle and Azul with a reader who's cheery and often bouncing with optimism that always has the mind boggling stories to tell. What do you mean that they literally man handed a lion because it won't stop messing around? What do you mean they were in a pit full of scorpions because they accidentally rolled down a hill? What do you mean they literally escaped a real decapitation (hinting towards Riddle LMAO) because he put one spoon full of herbs instead of a teaspoon? Like— they could go on forever! And the thing is, they have evidence of it.

Thank youuu 🫶🫶🫶🫶

A/N: Thank u so much I've been trying to stay on top of writing but it can get so hard!! But I really do try to keep this fandom alive w some goodies, anyways I'll stop yapping heres

Savanaclaw, Azul, and Riddle with a cheery, adventurous Reader!

Leona:

He didn't exactly always question your storytelling before he got to get to know you as he would rather spend time sleeping. But it seemed like literally everyone was captivated by your latest entertaining experience.

As you guys' relationship grew, it got to the point where he couldn't ignore you dropping an insane piece of lore about yourself.

"Yeah, I was accidentally poisoned before-"

"What did you just say-"

"It's okay though, the gnome did apologize and I got my stomach pumped but everything is all good!"

He makes sure to keep an eye out on you, and honestly your stories are the main thing that keep him awake during the day especially because they're real. And although it may seem he's nonchalant when you message him about where you're at, Leona always makes sure to respond as he does care.

Jack:

As your first friend at NRC and protector kinda, he would get paranoid when you would sometimes disappear. However at first Jack believed you were an independent person, and wasn't up to any nefarious activity.

Until you came back with a gorgon head in a brown sack where he was studying in the autobiography section in the library talking about that you accidentally defeated it.

He screamed in terror upon seeing the thing, causing for him to be shushed completely by offended students. But he could not care less due to the sliced head within the sack, however he quickly took you both outside and you being you didn't exactly see the problem in this situation.

Once you where in an open area near NRC's well he began to question you.

"Why-? A-And how? Why are you like this, do you know how much danger you were in?!"

"To answer all your questions in order, 1. I got lost and she had a huge problem with me, 2. I got scared and ran with my eyes closed with the sword and BOOM, just clean off, and yes I know I was in a lot of danger and I'm very sorry for not responding to your calls."

He was way too scared for both you and himself to respond and learned his lesson to keep an eye on you more.

Ruggie:

Ruggie always told you that he was a "see it to believe it" type person and he was never really believing your wild tales you would tell even if you came back with a little souvenir. He always just assumed you were pulling his leg for a bit.

Until he texted you one day over Magicam, since it was a slow day at the Savannaclaw dorm. Only for you to reply with a video, making him click on it not knowing what he should expect.

Queue you to being in an extremely angry dragon's mouth,

"Hey Ruuggieee! I'll get back to you later since I'm in a pickle right now, but I promise I'll call you when I'm done!"

He nearly passed out upon the sight because what in all of the sevens' names doing inside of that deadly beast. The beast man ended up walking to Ignihyde to possibly get Idia to track your location based on your I.P address, only for his phone to ring just as he was about to blab about what happened.

It was you!

He quickly picked up his phone to hear your excited voice blaring on the phone, "I told you I would call you back! Anyways, come over to my house I have something to show you."

You ended up bringing home a dragon's tooth and treasure and while Ruggie was overjoyed, he reprimanded you for being irresponsible.

But he wouldn't mind it too much if you brought back goodies like this just make sure to let him know so he could tag along.

Azul:

You were running late to a meeting about mending a contract between students he scammed. Since you know him quite well and is a good friend of his, the students thought your kind hearted nature could persuade him out of binding them to the Monstro Lounge for an entire semester.

He written in a small font on the contract that if you were over 15 minutes late, you would be unable to host this meeting and the deal would be off completely. The white haired boy glanced at the clock as the time ticked and he would have his own free work force.

Until you had to come 30 seconds from it being called off completely out of breath.

"Sorry Azul! But I got you a little present from the desert," you said dropping down in your seat and digging through this brown sack.

The ancient golden scarab of the Hot Sands.

"Is that-"

"The golden scarab included with the jewel eyes? Yup and I did it all by myself!" You said, extremely proud of yourself.

"Do you understand the value of what you have in your hand? And what were you doing all the way out there by yourself I just talked to you a day ago and that is damn near a 5 day journey?"

"I did this since I did the calculations and about an 1/4 of the wages that the students owe you is in the value of this jewel bug here. So if I split the riches with you, will you let them go?"

You did all of this for some measly students you knew in passing? How could you jeopardize yourself like that?

But he at the same time, respected you greatly and for your trouble and kind heart.

However, he told you to not go anywhere without telling him.

And no of course it's not because he cares about you and was scared once you told him where you went...of course not...

Riddle:

Is the first person who noticed you were gone because he likes to keep tabs on his friends. He didn't know what to expect but the red head just believed you were busy.

So, Riddle decided to shoot you a text as everyone was hanging out in the Heartslabyul dorm and he really wanted to see you.

'Good afternoon, Y/N please feel free to stop by the Heartslabyul dorm. Your company is very appreciated :)'

You quickly texted back, 'Hey Riddle! I'm gonna swing by with a surprise ;D'

He smiled at his phone, unknowing as to what you were going to bring by. Thinking you might bring by muffins or a sweet treat as such.

Not the sword of Excalibur.

You opened the door, bursting in loudly with the enormous sword slung on your back as Grim carried two sacks of gold. Everyone was completely flabbergasted, as the sword had been known to be a mythological thing not yet proven like the fountain of youth.

But there it was on your back as you grinned.

Turned out you picked up your first job at an exploration company and they sent you on a death wish mission to get this damn sword. And in contrary to what everyone believed would be the outcome, you succeeded and retrieved the artifact.

Unfortunately for you, you ended up being scolded for about two hours straight for being completely irresponsible by Riddle with some chime ins from your friends.

He admired your intense tenacity and bravery, but Riddle was super worried about you whenever you take on a quest. He forced you to have a partner whenever you go on missions and call him every time you reached an important point to make sure you were alive and safe.

"So... you really do care about me-"

"By the great seven- YES ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN KILLED IN THAT DAMN ENCHANTED FOREST-"

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