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#he just stopped after mal
thenwhatthefukcisthis · 8 months
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from whispering “paradox” before throwing a man into his death to spontaneously coming up with itty bitty details about air crafts, with what @mister-eames pointed out Arthur being so proud of being Ariadnes teacher, I’d like to imagine him being someone who’d love to spiel in to ramblings about things he knows about. It could be how a certain flower propagates or how a certain explosive creates a softer sound, if there’s someone willing to listen, he would just share anecdotes about it.
And eames always has an ear out for him. Love is stored in soemone who is listening to you in a group and silently encouraging by paying attention and eames finds himself doing that, initially passively and later quite actively when arthur talks. eames finds himself being in love with being that always present ear to arthur. And may be eames also finds himself being in love with excitedly dancing brown eyes and smile slowly tugging at lips and steadily reddening cheeks arthur rewards him with.
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shushmal · 8 months
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Eddie only just was able to get the barman's permission to perform this night, and glad he is for it, as his pockets have weighed lighter than ever before in his life. He'd be pleased to find pay in a tankard or loaf tonight, anything to fill his aching belly.
But he's lucky as the men and women here seem to be in high spirits. The land has long been in war since the king's death, rotten bastard he may have been. Eddie hadn't been sad to see him go, but the chaos that followed had ruined the smallfolk in consequence since their coward prince had fled the scene of his crime. The king had been cruel, but still he'd been their king, and the common people spit on the prince's name still, even when some new royal's been crowned and brought peace with him.
And that kind of ire is what feeds Eddie on nights like this.
"Kingslayer, kingslayer, little Prince Steven has run," he sings, bawdy and loud as the crowd of men around him sing along. "Run up the hills and past the sun, took our king Phillip and gutted him plain, our kingslayer Prince Steven, a coward more than a maid!"
They sing along with him, hooting and hollering all to the end of it, and pay him in copper coins and ale that Eddie takes happily, slurping it down as he rests by the fire.
It's then he sees the table in the corner, the cloaked figures surrounding it, and the woman glaring daggers at him. But more interesting than that is the most beautiful man Eddie's ever seen, smiling at him wearily, eyes bright and interested and a little sad. Eddie's got no fear of a quick tumble with dangerous men, so he takes his gittern and his ale and makes his way quickly to them.
"Fair night, weary travelers," Eddie crows as he wiggles himself between the woman and the beautiful man. "What brings you so far out from the capitol?"
The lot of them regard him with mixed interest, the older man not even looking up and a girl with firey hair treating him with a sign of boredom.
"What business is yours to know, bard?" she says, already turning her nose off to watch the rowdy tavern beyond their table.
"None at all," Eddie says, leaning into the man beside him, slinging an arm over his broad shoulder to feel the heat of him beneath his cloak. "I'm here to do nothing but entertain tonight, and I fear I've bored your table to tears! I do take requests you know, for the right coin."
This he says to the man under his arm, leaning in closer to get a good look at those pretty brown eyes in the dim light of the fire.
"We have no coin for you, sot," says the woman beside them, ire evident in her tone. "Be gone with you—"
"No coin, that's true," says Eddie's beautiful man. He smiles at Eddie now, pearly teeth and pretty lips, and Eddie would sing him any song for nothing more than to keep those eyes on him. "You'll have to forgive us, we're not good company I'm afraid."
"Richer company wouldn't be as sweet as yours, dove," Eddie tells him, watching the pink of his cheeks darken.
There's a gagging sound from across the table, and its then that Eddie realizes he's in the company of striplings. Two girls in men's clothes, both of them are young in the face and barely past their majorities. Yet still they are travel-worn, all five of them: the two girls, the woman and the dour man, and the beautiful budde under Eddie's arm.
Chuckling, he says to Eddie, "A wag you are, bard, with such empty words. Do you flirt so with all poor men you find?"
"None are poorer than me, sweeting, and none are more enchanting than you. It is payment enough just to look at you, and I would sing for an age and fill my empty stomach with just your smile, or your taste if you'd grant me—"
"Gods damned!" the woman Eddie's other side gusts. "I cannot hear another foul word." She stands then, and the two girls follow, one rolling her eyes and the other giggling quitely. The woman leans past Eddie and hisses into her companion's ear, "Be done with this fool swiftly, or I'll leave you to the wolves."
"You'd never," he says back to her, smiling at Eddie, face flushed pretty and dark even as he speaks.
"Hopper would never," she says tilting her head at the remaining dour man still sitting at the table, deep into his cups and paying no mind to any around them. "But I would sell you for tanner and a duck to the first bidder."
"I'm worth at least an ox," he tells her with a cocky grin, and Eddie might want more than just one tumble with this man. "Find a room and I'll find you when I please to."
She huffs and stomps off, the girls on her heels.
"So," Eddie breathes, leaning even further into this beautiful man, until his voice is a secretive whisper, just for the two of them to hear. "Tell me, sweeting, what shall I call you when I write songs of your beauty to sing across the land, until kings beg me to their courts to recount your grace, your smile and your laugh?"
This man, to Eddie's displeasure, seems to wilt, to grow weary once more, even as he smiles and leans close, his words scarcely a breath against the shell of Eddie's ear.
"If it pleases you, and I'm sure that it won't," he confesses. "You can call me Steven."
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gh0stlymoth · 1 year
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HERMANN GOTTLIIEB BATHDAY BOI PROMPHT PLEASE!💗🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳✨✨✨✨
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[ID: 3-page, black-and-white comic featuring Hermann and Newt from pacific rim. It starts with dialogue.
Newt: Morning, Herms!
Hermann: Good morning, Newton.
Newt: I left you something on your desk :)
On Hermann's desk sit two cupcakes with lettering reading: "hpy birth! Herms!", a wrapped present, a letter, and a mug. Hermann picks up one of the cupcakes, perplexed, while Newt bounces excitingly in the background. Hermanns turns to him and asks: "you didn't put poison in this, did you?" to which Newt replies: "Dude, i am not that much of an ass! I did bake them myself tho."
Hermann then smiles at him and says: "well, thank you Newton, this is rea-" but he gets interrupted by Newt yelling: "I still need to sing for you dude, hold on!" Hermann tries to stop him by saying: "Newt, this is not-" but Newt clears his throat and starts singing "Happy Birthday". As he finishes, Hermann tries to say something again, but Newt interrupts him anew by yelling "Hoch soll er leben, Hoch soll er leben, dreimal hoch, hoch, hoch" while throwing his arms in the air. Hermann, now looking a bit defeated, asks: "are you done?" to which Newt replies: "Yes :)". The dialogue on the last page reads:
Newt: "Btw, don't open your present till you are back in your quarters, haha.
Hermann: ...why?
Newt: =)
Hermann: Newton. End ID]
technically this is still a doodle. maybe. Anyway 3 days late but fuck that one post and happy birthday, Hermann.
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thetimelordbatgirl · 2 months
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Maybe its just me, but bit fucking rich of D2 to act like the kingdom NOW cares about Ben seemingly dumping Mal in favor of another girl when back in D1, the whole school (bar Chad) and his parents were fine with him doing that to Audrey in favor of Mal.
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girlbob-boypants · 2 years
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At the risk of seeing discourse and bad faith takes in the notes, I'd like to apply nuance to the Malenia vs Radahn fight
In their states before the fight, Radahn was stronger. This is because Malenia's training was based around suppressing her rot, the very thing that made her a demigod and an empyrean. The Scarlet Rot was eating at her, yes, but that's only a negative because of her desire to be separate from it (sort of like the difference in the omen twins, actually. Acceptance vs repression). This put her at a disadvantage to a demigod who had fully embraced his powers.
And this was something she knew. That's why she removed Miquella's Needle. She needed a final gambit in case exactly what happened, happened. Radahn literally disarmed her and so she brought her true power to the battlefield.
"But Radahn was holding back the stars, he was carrying his horse." Yes and he chose to do that during his attempt to claim the throne. He chose to do that despite knowing he was facing Malenia, Blade of Miquella. Tactical decisions are just as much a part of battlefield power as raw strength.
As warriors on the battlefield, Radahn was barely able to get an edge over Malenia. As demigods with their full powers, Radahn never stood a chance.
Not...that any of this matters cause in game all that's happening is I'm getting my ass beat
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ohifonlyx33 · 2 years
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i just think kdrama watchers are probably best equipped to understand the type of character Malyen Oretsev was written to be in the books. send tweet
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evilminji · 8 months
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Dani should Kidnap The Clones.
It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!
*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*
Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!
Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.
Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.
They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.
But also?
Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.
And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?
.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?
"....Free Clone Baby?"
Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?
Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.
Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.
Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?
Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?
Damian.
He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?
He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.
Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.
And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!
In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!
....what are they arguing about?
*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*
See you in a few days!
(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*
Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.
And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*
Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.
Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<
*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation
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joelscurls · 8 months
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stalemate
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pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
words: 7.2k
summary: Frankie Morales is your best friend — until a drunken hookup tears you apart.
warnings: 18+ minors dni; friends -> enemies -> lovers, TF characters without the TF plot, no Tom (in this house we hate Tom), alcohol consumption, smoking, angst, jealousy, pining, Frankie & reader being idiots in love, explicit smut, size kink, brief mentions of drunk sex, bad / regretful sex (between reader & OC), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (bebita, querida, baby, etc.), grilled cheese as a love language, happy ending, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!
a/n:  thank you so much to @javisashtray & @pedgito for beta-reading this for me <3 this is for all my frankie lovers out there (aka bitches with good taste). dividers are by cafekitsune. follow @joelscurlsupdates for fic notifications! enjoy :)
Frankie Morales makes the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had. Perfectly golden bread; gooey, melty cheese — just the thought of it makes you drool. He says he has a secret ingredient. Won’t let you in the kitchen while he cooks for you, lest you find out. 
Sometimes, upon entering his apartment, you can already smell melted butter. He’ll have started on one without even asking if you want it. He knows you always do. 
Sit, he’ll shout from the other room. I’ll be right there. Feel free to put something on — but please, not 13 Going on 30. You’ll thank him and question his distaste for Mark Ruffalo in the same breath: you’re the best, but it’s not my fault Matty is the dream man.
He’ll bring you the wafting plate along with a Corona, and insist that you eat before it goes cold while he makes one for himself. Ever the gentleman, ever the friend — at least he was.
Because the two of you haven’t spoken in a month; not since the drunken hookup that you’re both pretending didn’t happen.
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You’d laughed the entire cab ride home from the bar. That last round of tequila shots had left you feeling good, all warm and giggly, and Frankie mirrored you in the backseat with his drunken grin. Eyes glassy, lips pulled wide, he’d smacked you lightly on the shoulder as you recalled Santiago’s pitiful loss in that third game of pool. “When he pocketed the eight-ball…” he trailed off into another fit of laughter. 
“And then—“ you attempted, voice caught in your throat as another giggle barreled out. “—the cue hitting his drink!” Your entire body folded over, hands braced on Frankie’s thighs as the two of you struggled to regain composure. Through labored breaths, you squealed. “He’s never going to live that down!”
After a few particularly stressful months at work, you lived for these nights out with your friends. You’d met Frankie through your best friend Mal, who was dating his friend Benny, and your circles had eventually meshed into one. Sometimes it felt like it had always been that way, like you’d known the guys your entire life.
Especially Frankie.
Your friendship was a special one — punctuated by frequent trips to the movies to watch the latest horrible slasher film; by nights spent yapping on the phone about nothing in particular. He’d become a constant in your life. Never, in your right mind, would you even dream of doing anything to jeopardize that— 
“You look really hot tonight, by the way.”
He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have. But then it was you who leaned in closer, you who rested your hand on his hip and plucked the Standard Heating Oil cap off his head, placing it atop your own.
It was you who kissed him first.
He deepened it though — that was all him — large, restless hands grasping at your sides, your back, your face; tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to press against yours. He’d groaned into your mouth when the cab stopped at the curb in front of your building. Cursed under his breath when you pulled away.
And then, your voice ragged and breathless, you’d asked, “do you want to come in for a bit?”
It was a mistake. A horrible, blissful mistake. Waking up with sticky thighs and Frankie’s thumbprint bruised into your hip, you’d found his side of the bed cold; your inbox empty. He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. Still hasn’t.
The aftermath is cursory glances. Half-assed greetings and pleasantries murmured across the bar. Which you don’t mind, really. You don’t want to speak to him. He’d probably just feed you some lie about losing track of time, not remembering what happened that night.
You wish you could forget it.
The visual is fuzzy; fleeting. But his voice — god, his voice — it still rings in your ears, drips at the nape of your neck like a leaking tap: fuck, baby, knew you’d take my cock; feel so good wrapped around me.
Your friends don’t know. They can’t; they wouldn’t let you live it down. Benny has made plenty of offhand comments already about you and Frankie being perfect for each other, having the same stubborn disposition. Mal does nothing to shut him up. Instead, she encourages him. Tells him he’s so right. 
You’re pretty sure your eyeballs are going to fall out someday from glaring too hard.
Because you’re not perfect for each other — far from it, actually. Fuck, you can’t even communicate effectively. How could you ever be in a real relationship? 
Not that you want that. Frankie is…well, Frankie. Sure, he’d felt undeniably incredible on top of you, inside of you — but he isn’t the type to settle down. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Frankie talk about dating. 
Besides, he’s clearly not interested in being anyone’s anything right now. Not even your friend. 
It hurts; cuts deeper than you care to admit. Just weeks ago, you’d spent an entire weekend at his place, marathoning the X Files and gorging on cold pizza. Now, he won’t even look your way for more than a few seconds. 
Won’t make you a fucking grilled cheese.
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It’s a Friday night, which means you’re meeting your friends at Sid’s. The glow of neon seeping through the windows of the old dive bar is warm and inviting as you step out of your rideshare and make your way toward the doors.
Frankie is sitting at the bar with Santiago when you enter. Hunched shoulders, narrowed eyes trained on his bottle of Corona, he appears detached from whatever Santi is saying to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you stroll up to them — not until his friend’s hand lands hard on his back, pulling his attention away from the beer. He offers a half-assed hello and an even more half-assed half-hug, and then he’s sliding back onto his barstool. 
Ever-oblivious, Santiago doesn’t seem to notice the way Frankie curls in on himself; the way your back is up like an agitated cat’s.
Mal and Benny turn up minutes later, immediately ordering a round of shots for the group. You down the liquor eagerly, not bothering to lean on salt and lime to numb the sting. You want to feel it. You order another before joining Mal and the guys at a pool table in the back, letting the acid slide down your throat with no more than a wince as Santi racks the balls.
“Alright Fish, you’re up,” he says. “Me and you. Whoever loses buys the next round.”
You watch as Frankie quirks a brow at him. Takes a swig of his beer. “You sure you want to make that bet, Pope?”
Santi grins; nods confidently. “Hell yeah, I do.” The rest of you don’t bother to suppress your laughter. You catch a glimpse of Frankie, head thrown back, his broad, glistening neck exposed, and you have to fight to ignore the sudden panging in your chest.
When Santi inevitably loses, you order a vodka soda. You’re already feeling a bit tipsy after two shots in less than twenty minutes, so the drink goes down smooth; quick. There’s a rush to your head as you settle back at the bar and fiddle with the wrapper to your straw, letting the slightly soggy paper roll between two fingers.
You barely notice when Frankie slots in a few seats down, your attention drawn only when you hear his voice. It’s deep — sounds just like it did when he had his chest pressed to your back in the dim light of your bedroom — and his intonation nearly gives you whiplash. 
When you snap your head up to look at him, you find he’s speaking to a woman. Her back is turned to you, long, dark hair tossed over her shoulder and her elbow resting casually on the bartop, but you imagine she must be beautiful by the way Frankie is visibly fawning over her. You’re staring, you hear her tease. Can’t help it, comes his reply.
Something like discomfort builds in your throat. Rises up up up. You take a long sip of your drink, letting vodka and sugar push it down. 
You’ve never seen Frankie flirt with anyone, apart from you. It’s strangely unsettling, listening to him smooth-talk her. I’m a pilot, you know, he brags; could take you up in the sky someday if you wanted. Her giddy squeal comes seconds later; really? You’d do that for me?
You feel bad for her. She doesn’t know yet that all he’ll do is disappoint her.
He feeds her lines as you sip on your drink, citrus and grain burning only when he tells her: yeah, I came with friends; they’re all over there. Gestures toward Benny, Mal and Santi standing around the pool table in the back.
Scoffing, you stand from your seat at the bar and retreat to the patio. You don’t bother to check if Frankie is looking. 
It’s cooler here, a sobering breeze carrying salt air with it as it wafts by. A few patrons have spilled outside, most smoking on faintly glowing cigarettes as they talk and laugh boisterously among themselves. You’d planned to sit alone, to plant yourself on a bench and enjoy your drink in solitude. But then a stranger is approaching you — a man, cigarette grasped between two of his fingers — and he’s asking you for a light.
He’s in his mid thirties, if you had to guess. Curly, dark hair sprouts every which way from his scalp; rounded, green eyes studying you as he awaits a response. He’s tall, though not as tall as Frankie.  His shoulders aren’t nearly as broad and his chest isn’t quite as wide. His t-shirt hangs loose around his torso, swallowing his narrow frame — dissimilar to the way Frankie’s button-down clings to him. 
Then again — why are you even comparing? Maybe the opposite of Frankie is exactly what you need. 
You’ll have to seduce this stranger first, though. Not that it seems like it’ll be very difficult. His eyes are already raking over you, lips turned up at the corner as you take a casual sip of your drink.
“I don’t smoke,” you admit apologetically. 
“Ah — that’s alright.” 
He has an accent; midwestern, maybe? You don’t bother to ask. You don’t care, really. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is—
“You here all by yourself?”
“Yeah,” he laughs at your lack of subtlety. “Are you?”
“No,” you say. “My friends are inside.” Lowering your voice, you add, “but I was thinking about leaving soon.”
“Why’s that? Early morning tomorrow?”
You shake your head. Rub at your neck as if working out a knot, a contented hum pushing past your lips at the press of fingers into skin. Your stranger’s eyes trail rather conspicuously downward.
“Just over it,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I’d much rather be home…in bed…out of these clothes.”
You pull gently at the strap of your dress, as if you can’t bear the sensation of it against your shoulder any longer.
Your stranger’s gaze darkens, and the grip on his box of cigarettes grows tighter.
“You uh — want some company — once I find a light?”
Too fucking easy.
“Sure,” you giggle.
He slips away only for a minute or two, giving you just enough time to second-guess yourself. You know nothing about this man, not even his name; only that he smokes American Spirits and smells like tobacco. Should you really go home with him? 
But then you think of Frankie inside  — talking up a woman at the bar, pretending that you don’t exist — and that just about makes up your mind for you.
Your stranger reappears, now-lit cigarette dangling from his lips. The tip of it rages red and angry, and you think you know how that feels.
He smirks at you as he stuffs the pack into the front pocket of his jeans. An unceremonious silence hangs in the air as he sucks on the filter and puffs out a string of smoke. You wait patiently for him, quietly. 
He snuffs the butt of his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. Takes your empty cup and discards that too. 
Can’t wait to get you home, he whispers in your ear then. You feign arousal, peering up at him and batting your eyelashes. Me neither, you mewl. Let’s go.
You lead him back through the bar, finding Mal and letting her know that you’ll be going. She seems a little perplexed, quirking a brow at you as you grip tightly onto your stranger’s arm, but she tells you to have fun anyway. Text me, she mouths as you make your way to the exit.
You only get a few feet, though, before you’re intercepted.
Frankie is blocking the door, arms crossed, a panic-stricken look on his face that you can’t quite comprehend. “Hey,” he says, “can I talk to you real quick?”
Your stranger backs off. Lets go of your arm and starts out the door. “I’ll wait outside,” he says, slipping away with a wink before you can protest.
The bar is bustling with noise, people in every corner drinking and laughing and dancing. Strangely, though, you’ve never felt so alone. So vulnerable. And you hate that Frankie has this power over you, the innate ability to make you feel so fucking small. It’s infuriating, it’s—
“Are you sure you want to leave with him?”
“Excuse me?” you scoff. 
Frankie stares you down, face red, eyes inky-black. “You don’t know this guy, do you? What if he’s a murderer or something? Or like — a pervert?” 
He’s grasping at straws, you know it. It’s why you laugh; roll your eyes. 
“What are you, my keeper?”
“No, it’s just — I’m just concerned for your safety, okay?”
You’re briefly stunned. After weeks of ignoring you, he cares about your wellbeing? How can he be so hypocritical?
“I’m fine,” you bite back. “Why don’t you go back to your girl at the bar? Worry about getting yourself some instead?”
He’s wounded, if only slightly. His lips part like he might retaliate, but he’s silent. Dejected. Satisfied, you brush past him. March out the door without so much as a parting glance.
Finding your stranger leaning against the bar’s brick exterior, you force a smile. He outstretches a hand and you take it, reluctantly. “Ready to go?” he asks. 
You’re not so sure anymore, but you nod anyway. Squeeze your stranger’s bicep and preen under his lustful gaze when he tenses in your grip. “Yeah,” you purr. “I’m ready.”
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Cold air bites at your toes the following morning. It wakes you from a deep slumber; bitterly pulls you into consciousness. Confused, you yank at the covers. But a mysterious weight holds them in place, and only then do you remember then that you’re not alone. 
Eyes sliding open reluctantly, you scan the room. Your dress from the night before is draped over the chair in the corner, your stranger’s clothes piled up on the floor nearby. He snores next to you, an arm raising to hang above his head, and you shift. Slip out of bed and pull a t-shirt on before padding into the bathroom.
Early morning light spills across tile, bounces off the mirror above the sink. You squint, shuffling over to the window and yanking the blinds closed. Then you check for damage in your reflection. Your makeup from the night before has stained your cheeks and your eyes look as tired as you feel, but otherwise there appears to be no physical evidence of your rock bottom.
The sex wasn’t great — not even good, really. Your stranger had lasted all of three minutes, had fanned his hot breath across the shell of your ear as he came, and then collapsed on top of you. Rolled over and drifted to sleep. He’d started snoring before you could even process what had just happened.
Cold water splashed across your cheeks does nothing to cool the burn of regret that scorches your skin. You feel uncomfortable, almost as if your body is tainted, now, remnants of your stranger leaking from between your thighs as you steady yourself at the edge of the sink. 
He must’ve heard the tap, or maybe the pounding in your chest, because he emerges seconds later. He yawns and stretches, feline-like, in the doorway. “Hey,” he mutters. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good,” you say, eyes twitching slightly as you will them to stay put above his waistline. 
“You always up this early?”
You nod. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that you’d nearly jumped out of bed at the sight of him still there. He doesn’t need to know that for a split second, you’d almost hoped it was Frankie.
He asks if you want to get breakfast. You shake your head in faux-sympathy. “Sorry, can’t. I was hoping to get some cleaning done.”
“I could stick around and help,” he offers. 
Jesus Christ. Just take the fucking hint.
“That’s so nice of you; I’m just more efficient by myself,” you lie again. 
If Frankie were here, he’d grab the cleaning rags out of the closet just off the kitchen. He knows where they’re kept: second shelf, on the left. He’d wipe down the counters and the coffee table while you’d work on clearing dishes, disposing of pizza scraps. And he’d probably put on his dad-rock playlist — against your wishes — though you’d inevitably find yourself dancing to Foo Fighters and giggling when he’d sing along and mess up the words.
It begins to sink in then, as you shoo your stranger, now dressed, out the door, that your attempt to use sex as a way to get Frankie out of your head was useless. He’s still there, refusing quite adamantly to budge, all mussed curls and big eyes and deep voice. There’s no evidence that he’ll be leaving any time soon.
The revelation renders you nauseous. You spend the rest of the day with a hangover that you’re sure has not been induced by alcohol. And by the time night falls, darkness descending over your bedroom like a fog, you still feel sick.
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A week later, you drag yourself to Benny and Mal’s for their monthly game night. You’d tried to get out of it, told Mal you haven’t been feeling great — which isn't a total lie — but she’d begged you until you broke. 
Will is coming, and it’ll be the first time we’ve all gotten together in over a year, she’d whined through the receiver. 
And then-
I know things were weird between you and Frankie last time at the bar, but you can’t let that stop us from seeing each other.
How do you know that, you’d asked, chewing on your bottom lip, the phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder.
He basically moped around the rest of the night after you left. Kept bitching about you leaving with that guy. He seemed really…agitated. You don’t have to tell me what happened, just please don’t bail.
So you’re here, steeling yourself as you climb the steps to the front door, hoping that if nothing else, you can make it through the night without strangling Frankie for his lack of discretion. 
You enter the house with baited breath.
Your eyes immediately catch Frankie, tucked into the corner of the sectional, fingers wrapped tightly around his beer. He meets your gaze briefly before letting it slip to the floor by his feet, as if he’s trying to pretend he hasn’t seen you at all. 
“Hi,” you try.
He looks back up at you, or rather past you. Taps his fingers along the bottle for a long moment. “Hey,” he says finally, to the wall behind your head.
“How have you been?” the words come out forced, almost foreign. You shift your weight awkwardly and he sighs. 
“Fine. I’m fine.” 
“Right,” you mutter. More silence. “Me too, in case you were wondering.”
“Good,” he says, voice cold. “That’s good.”
You’re not sure whether you want to slap him or kiss him. Because as infuriating as he’s being right now, he looks gorgeous, denim shirt hugging his biceps, his shoulders; stray curls peaking out from under that stupid Standard Heating Oil hat. You yearn to rip it off his head, run your fingers through his hair, nip along the sharp line of his jaw; the broad expanse of his neck.
You long to feel something other than the prominent ache that’s permeated your body for weeks, now. And you fear that he’s the only one who’d be able to alleviate it.
Your mouth opens again just as Benny emerges from the kitchen. Whatever words you were about to utter are lost in the ether as he pulls you into a suffocating hug and thanks you for coming. 
“Mal’s in the kitchen,” he says. Grabs a handful of Lays from a bowl on the coffee table and shovels them into his mouth. Still chewing, he adds, “we got those wine coolers you like; they’re in the fridge.”
With a hurried thanks, you slip away unscathed.
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You find Mal crouched in front of the open fridge, rustling through a produce drawer stocked with beer cans. 
“Hey,” you announce. 
She seems almost surprised to see you when she cranes her neck toward your voice, despite your promise to show. Eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape, it’s as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She pulls another drawer open. Fishes out a wine cooler and passes it to you with an outstretched arm. 
You take it in one hand. Help her up with the other. 
“You’re here,” she says, and it sounds like more of a question than a statement. 
“Yeah. I said I would be.”
“I know, I know. It’s just — I wasn’t sure. The whole Frankie thing…” 
“It’s nothing; I promise,” you lie. “Water under the bridge. We’re fine.”
She quirks a brow at you, disbelief coloring her features, but she lets it go. Closes the fridge with a thunk and adjusts her sweater at the hem. “Good,” she says. “I don’t want you two ruining game night.”
It’s half a joke, but you know deep down she means it. She takes this all very seriously. Back in college, she’d forced you and your suitemates to play Cards Against Humanity with her every weekend. None of you had the heart to tell her when it started to grow monotonous, and so the tradition carried on well past graduation, eventually evolving into a new tradition with new friends.
Games bring people together, she’d said once over a round of Monopoly that had stretched well into the night, resulting in delirious laughter and a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.
You’d believed her at the time. Now, you’re not so sure that it’s foolproof.
The two of you rejoin the guys in the living room, Santiago and Will having shown up in your absence. You greet them as Benny pulls out a stack of game boxes. Settle on the couch, as far away from Frankie as you can manage.
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It starts during the second round of Charades. 
The first round had gone fine — good, even. Teamed up with Santi and Will, you’d avoided eye contact with Frankie for the whole of it. Focused only on guessing Santi’s horribly-mimed clues in between handfuls of trail mix and sips of watermelon-flavored bubbles.
It’d felt a bit like old times, all of you in one room again. Mal snuggling into Benny on the loveseat; Will catching his brother up on time spent touring the country, giving motivational speeches to recently discharged veterans. He’d asked you how you’ve been as Santi studied his next word, and you’d remembered then that everything was very much not how it once was.
And you hadn’t missed Frankie’s discomfort at the question; the way he set his beer bottle down on the table with a bit too much force, glass clanging against wood. Though if Will noticed too, he hadn’t said anything. Just moved into a story about some woman he met on the road that reminded him of you.
Santi’s turn had ended with a whopping zero points for your team, and now Frankie is standing at the front of the room, unfolding the scrap of paper in his hand and reading it to himself. In the lull, you find yourself staring at him, eyes near glazing over at the sight of the tiny paper pinched between long, thick fingers. Fingers you remember the reach of, the weight of. 
He crumples the paper and stuffs it into his pocket, signaling that he’s ready to go. Mal flips over the sand timer on the table. And you almost don’t notice at first when he starts, mind occupied by equal parts lust and annoyance, that he’s fucking mouthing the phrase.
You watch, enraged, as Benny squints to read his lips. He raises his hand excitedly and jumps to his feet; yells out the answer with a sureness that Frankie affirms with a nod. 
“That’s right. It’s the Empire State Building.”
“That’s fucking cheating!” you shout, a bit angrier than the situation calls for, and the room grows quiet. Fury coursing through you, you add, “are you fucking serious, Frankie?”
You feel the eyes on you; the awkward sheen you’ve cast over the room. Mal shifts across from you, glaring when you turn to face her, and you laugh defensively. 
“What, nobody else thinks that’s unfair?”
“Please,” Frankie sneers. 
“No, she’s right,” Santi tries — ever the peacemaker. “We’ll just add a rule going forward; no mouthing the words.”
“Fuck that,” you hiss. “I want their point taken away.”
Frankie scoffs from the other side of the room. “Bullshit! We earned that before the rule was added.”
You’re fuming now, standing to get a bit closer to his height; though he still towers over you. Mal is right on your heels, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to placate you. You brush her off. Take another stride toward Frankie.
“There shouldn’t need to be an official rule against it, Frankie. It’s common fucking sense — which clearly, you have none of.”
Visibly offended, he says nothing. Just tenses his jaw.
“Why did you come tonight?” you continue, voice more level now; direct. 
You hear your name uttered behind you, tone pleading, warning. You ignore it. 
“Seriously, why?”
He’s quiet for a long, drawn-out moment, eyes pointed at the floor again.  
“What are you talking about?” he spits, finally. 
You laugh, amused and irritated, and these things somehow feel one in the same. “I mean, clearly you don’t want to be in my presence or even acknowledge my existence — unless it’s to cockblock me — so why are you here?”
His brows furrow; lips twist. For a second, you think he might actually leave. He adjusts his cap, jangles the car key in his pocket — but Benny stops him before he can take a step.
“Just — cut it out, okay? Both of you.”
“He’s the one-“
“I don’t care,” Benny interjects. Scanning the room, you catch sight of Santi and Will and Mal, all visibly agitated, and you sigh.
Guilt washes over you, then. The twisting of Santi’s face, Mal’s doleful stare, the wordless look exchanged between Benny and Will. All confirm your fear that you’ve effectively ruined their night. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. 
Frankie echoes your apology. Still, the others aren’t impressed. 
“I don’t know what’s been going on lately with you two, but you need to figure this shit out,” Benny says. He sounds like a parent: stern and slightly disappointed. “Can you please just — go in the other room and talk through it?”
Though you haven’t much cared for Frankie’s opinion as of late, you still turn to him to gauge his reaction. He appears just as hesitant as you are, just as guilt-stricken. But something more lurks behind his eyes — something like fear, anxiety. Why, you aren’t sure.
You raise a brow at him, a wordless question. He answers with a sigh. 
“Fine,” you both say at once.
“Thank goodness,” Mal chimes. Herding you two like cattle with a hand on each of your backs, she leads you out of the living room and into the adjoining hallway. 
Her voice drones behind you as you make your way toward the third door on the right. Shall we continue the game?
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The guest room is primly kept. It appears almost untouched at first glance, though you know that to be untrue. You’ve stayed here before, after blurry nights spent drinking shitty gin and singing karaoke. That must’ve been years ago now, though, after Mal and Benny first bought this house, and you begin to wonder if your tumultuous friendship with Frankie only made you neglect your friendship with her. And that only adds to the anger stirring inside of you — because what was it all worth, if it’s ended up like this?
Frankie closes the door behind him with a click, and the air in the room feels exponentially thicker. 
“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. 
He scoffs. “Me? You’re the one who freaked out and started an argument over nothing!”
“It wasn’t nothing. You were cheating.”
“Please.” He rolls his eyes. Takes two steps toward you. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”
“Oh,” you laugh, “so you are aware that you’ve been an asshole?”
He says your name, voice suddenly lower, softer. Your entire body tenses as you struggle to keep strong, to not think about how it sounded in your ear in the midst of pleasure.
“I wasn’t trying to be-”
You throw a hand up; silence him. “Well you have been,” you groan. “You’ve been a huge fucking asshole. You hurt me, Frankie. You were my best friend, and then you just… stopped returning my texts. You won’t even look at me when we’re in the same room together. Did you regret it that much?”
The room goes still. You watch as Frankie’s chest rises and falls arduously, his eyes settling on you. They’re dark, pupils blown wide, squeezing shut as he exhales long and hard.
“No.”
You quirk a brow at him, confused.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats, averting his gaze. “And that’s the problem — I didn’t regret it at all.” His eyes lift slowly, finding you again, voice more sure when he adds, “I’ve wanted it for a long time”
You can barely comprehend what he’s saying, your heart climbing its way out of your ribcage and up your throat. You gulp, feeling the shape of it there as saliva slowly slides past. 
He takes another two steps forward, mere inches from you now, and your breath hitches.
“Do you know how difficult it’s been to look at you without getting fucking hard?” he whispers. “How many times I’ve fucked my fist in the past month imagining it was you?”
Your mouth falls open, stunned. “That girl at the bar-”
He shakes his head. “I thought maybe if I fucked someone else, it would help.”
“And did it?”
“I didn’t — I didn’t go home with her,” he admits, a little bashfully. “I couldn’t do it.” 
His hand lifts, then, cautious and shaky. It finds its way to your face, grazes your jaw so softly you’d think you imagined it if you couldn’t see.
“Why not?” you squeak.
He nods, as if he’s finally accepting something he’s known to be true, admitting it to himself before he does so out loud.
“Because she wasn’t you.”
It feels as if your entire world has spun on its axis. 
Without thinking, you wrap your hand around Frankie’s neck and pull him toward you, crashing your lips into his with a groan. He’s quick to respond, desperately tangling his fingers in your hair and winding his tongue around yours, a broken moan slipping from his throat. 
For a long moment, that’s all it is. It’s clashing teeth and restless hands; the draw of blood and the taste of it, earthy and metallic on your tongue. It’s the two of you, reconciling for lost time and unshared feelings and the overlooked need for each other through tangled bodies. 
And when you finally pull apart, his lips are swollen and his eyes are glazed over, and you’re sure you don’t look much different.
“Frankie,” you whine as his mouth latches to your neck, warm and wet. He doesn’t retreat; just hums against you. 
“Need you,” you say breathlessly. “Need you to touch me.”
His large hand skates down your front, under the waistband of your leggings. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, and your knees buckle. You lean into him, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest as he begins rubbing small, deliberate circles into cotton. 
Lips trailing up to your ear, he nibbles at the lobe. Presses his tongue just behind the shell of it and sighs. “Been wanting this since that night. Want to make you feel good. Want to do it right.”
You mewl in response, high-pitched and too loud, and you have to bite into his shoulder to keep from crying out again. He’s still working you toward the brink, pace relentless, beseeching you every time you buck into his hand. 
There you go baby, that’s it; I got you. 
You know he does, can feel the support of his unoccupied hand at the small of your back, holding you to his strong body. And god, how you’ve missed the feeling of it pressed to yours. You think that that alone could make you come.
You feel yourself slipping as your orgasm approaches, legs slumping underneath you more and more with every pass of his fingers. “Frankie,” you warn, teeth still anchored in his skin. “I’m going to-“
The words are muffled, but he gets it. Presses down harder and works his fingers faster. “Come on baby,” he growls in your ear, “come on.”
Your orgasm hits you so hard that you collapse, your body dead weight in Frankie’s grip as you writhe. He grasps onto you tightly, working you through it with his unyielding touch, swiping back and forth, back and forth as the final waves crest. 
You’re panting when it ends, and still when Frankie helps you to the edge of the bed. Perched there, staring up at him with glassy eyes, you realize you’ve never felt so sated and so needy at the same time.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, baby?” 
“Please fuck me.”
He should probably say no. After all, you’re in your friends’ guest room, people just a few hundred feet on the other side of the door. But then again, he’s already made you come.
You watch him consider it, eyes flickering to the door and back to you, dark and deep and pooling with want. 
In the end, he can’t help himself.
“Can you be quiet, querida?” 
You nod, though you’re sure that even if you said no, he wouldn’t care. He’d do just as he’s doing now: pressing your shoulder, encouraging you to lay down on the bed; helping you pull your sneakers off, then your leggings, then your shirt; stepping back to marvel at your half-naked form before him. 
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your entire body heats from the inside out. You feel like you’re on fire, his stare keeping you alight as he undresses down to his boxers.
He climbs over you with a hand on either side of your head, pressed into the mattress. The lip of his hat bumps you, and you immediately rip it off of him, tossing it aside and tangling your fingers in dark curls. 
You tug at them, dragging him down until his face is hovering just above yours, and he responds with a strangled moan. His body pressed to yours now, you can feel the weight of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. Your mouth finds his again in a languid kiss — slow and deep. You feed each other sighs and moans, taste each other’s longing. His hips roll into yours with every exhale, teasing you — reminding you, and you feel like you’re steadily going insane.
He pulls back, panting. Rests his forehead on yours.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at the strap of your bra. You nod furiously. Lift the upper half of your body so that he can undo the clasps.
Breasts suddenly exposed, you feel your nipples begin to harden. Frankie groans at the sight of them, so pert and needing. Wordlessly, he dips his head, buries his face in your chest. His tongue wraps around one of your nipples and you cry out, hand flying to your mouth in an instant. 
“Oh fuck,” you moan into your palm.
“Feel good?” he asks, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shifts his focus to the other nipple. You feel so sensitive everywhere, the heft of his tongue going straight to your clit, and you can barely answer him. A shaky yes tumbles from your mouth — the best you can do. He hums, so low the vibrations burrow under your skin and barrel through you, and you keen at the sensation.
“God, you sound so pretty,” he sighs as he rolls one of your stiff peaks between two fingers. His other hand drifts down your body, dips between the two of you and pulls your panties aside. 
“Fuck,” he curses, fingertip brushing over your seam just barely. “You’re soaked, bebita. That all for me?”
“Mhm,” you whine. “All for you Frankie; fuck-“
He’s shifts down your body, hooks both arms under your legs and drags you toward him in one swift motion, leaving you no time to process before his tongue is on your pussy. “Have to taste you,” he babbles drunkenly, plunging into your leaking cunt and lapping at you.
“Oh, oh shit,” you moan as he drags his tongue up to your clit. “Please baby, please.”
“I know; I got you,” he soothes. Then he begins to lave your clit with the soft flat of his tongue, warm muscle encircling the throbbing nub. Wide eyes staring up at you, he observes intently. Responds to every sound, every tell with a switch in direction or an increase in pressure. He’s so attentive, so desperate to make you come on his mouth, and it sends you into a sort of delirium. 
Your second orgasm hits you out of nowhere, slams through your body with so much intensity, you don’t even have the strength to warn Frankie before your release is gushing all over his face and, undoubtedly, the bed below. 
He growls against your cunt. Comes up for air and kisses you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he tugs his boxers down and frees his aching cock. Notches at your entrance without detaching his lips from yours.
It’s a stretch — you recall it being so last time too — though the alcohol had done wonders to loosen your body. Now, you feel every devastating inch of him as he pushes in. He’s gentle. Tells you how good you’re doing as he feeds you more and more of his cock. There you go, that’s my girl, taking it so well for me. And for some reason, him calling you his nearly makes you come again. 
He notices the way you preen in response. Thumbs across the slope of your jaw as he settles inside you. “You like that, baby? Like me calling you mine?”
“Yes, Frankie — fuck. Want it.”
You don’t specify whether you mean him or his cock. You’re not entirely sure. Not that it matters. You know he’ll give you both, give you anything. Can feel it in the way he gazes at you through heart-shaped eyes as he lets you adjust to him.
 “So fucking beautiful, you know that?”
Your eyes roll back and saliva pools in your mouth. “God,” you breathe.
“I’m serious,” he says, finally beginning to move. The slow drag of his cock brushes your g-spot and you gasp. “Was so stupid before, fucking you drunk. Wanna remember every second, every noise you make, every inch of your perfect fucking body.”
“Jesus, Frankie.”
He pushes back in with one deep thrust. Sets a pace that, while not rough, definitely isn’t gentle. You begin to babble and writhe under him. Hook your legs around him so he can get even deeper.
He groans. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
“It’s so fucking good,” you cry. “Feels like fucking heaven, Frankie.”
“Nah, that’s you.” He lets his head fall on your shoulder, drives into you faster. Pants into the crook of your neck. “Perfect fucking pussy.” 
It ends all too quickly — with your fingernails dug into his back and his sweaty curls sticking to your forehead. Your cunt clenching around his cock, pulling his orgasm out of him just as yours begins to roll through you. You free fall from the cliff’s edge together, breathless moans spilling between your slotted mouths, his warmth flooding you and leaking from the place you’re still connected.
As the room around you slowly comes back into focus, you hear the sound of distant laughter. Benny’s boisterous chuckle and Mal’s much softer one. Clearly distracted, they’re likely blissfully unaware of what’s just happened. You giggle, covering your face as Frankie pulls out.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, prying your hands away. 
“We’re gonna have to get them a new bedspread. We just defiled this one.”
He stands, then, pulling you upright with him. You squeal as blood rushes to your head and your vision goes staticky. 
“Worth it,” he smirks. Gives you a chaste kiss. “Got my girl back.”
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You dress and rejoin the group as inconspicuously as possible. Pray they don’t notice the way you’re wobbling on your feet, or the sheen of sweat that’s coated your skin. 
“You sort everything out?” Santi smirks knowingly as you reassume your place on the couch, Frankie settling back into the corner.
“Yeah,” he mutters, refusing to make eye contact. 
“It’s about time,” Benny shouts from the kitchen. Frankie’s head shoots up, pivots toward his voice.
“What do you mean?”
He emerges in the doorway with a shit-eating grin. Mal stifles a laugh from the loveseat.
“Just saying it’s about time,” he shrugs. “That’s all.” 
Shit; apparently you hadn’t been as quiet as you thought.
The others chuckle as you and Frankie exchange a mortified look. The embarrassment is short lived though, Will clapping his hands together, asking what game you all want to play next.
An hour later, after a couple rounds of Codenames and another wine cooler, you head out the door with Frankie right beside you. It feels odd, not hiding anymore. But more so, it feels right. 
He leans you against your SUV under silver moonlight. Kisses you with plush, soft lips against yours; restless hands roving up your sides. Pulls back with a suspiciously large grin.
You cock an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says. “Just glad I stopped being an idiot.”
“I don’t know about that,” you tease, and he smacks you gently on the arm.
“Come over?” he asks, his hand draped over your waist. 
You think on it for only a second. Nod. “Yeah. As long as you make me a grilled cheese.”
“That can be arranged.” 
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end notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider commenting and/or reblogging :)
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infiniteimaginings · 4 months
Note
Can you do a transmale!reader x Harry Hook/Uma
(if you do multiple characters)
Where reader is chosen with the main four in the first movie (kid of Jack Sparrow) and leaves. He’s part of Uma’s crew. And when he’s chosen in the first movie, he’s pre-T or anything like it.
Then the second movie comes along and reader goes back to the isle with the others to bring back Mal. But he really goes because he wants to see his pirates. Except now he’s been on T for about a year now and had his surgeries. So they don’t recognize him and kidnap him along with Ben.
Anddddd I can’t really think of anything else after that. So…have fun with it! Preferably a happy ending, with lots of fluff and sweetness.
Pre-established Uma/Harry and Reader didn’t come out to them before leaving so as far as Uma/Harry know, Reader is a cis woman. So it’s a surprise when he finally tells him who he really is.
And yeah, that’s all. It’s alright if you don’t write it, I’d understand. Thanks!
Are we supposed to know you? (Uma x TransMale!Reader x Harry Hook)
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Summary: You were sent off with the other Vk's to Auradon and when you come back to retrieve Mal, you're changed. You of course go back for Mal, but it's mainly to see the people you left and to tell them you're home. What happens when they don't recognize you and see you as a threat, just like Ben. How will they know you're who you say you are? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her (In mentions from Uma and Harry), He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 2.7k A/N: (Long A/N) Act like Jefferson doesn't exist, I forgot he existed lol. Also, I won't lie, I started this at one o'clock in the morning, and was contemplating how on earth I make this fluff when they don't recognize him and kidnap him. So, unfortunately I didn't get lots of fluff into it, I apologize, I will write a part two to this little thing just for you with only fluff in it. I hope I did the general idea justice, if I didn't, I apologize. Lots of love! <333 (Even if I explained it, you guys would not understand how frustrated I've been with tumblr and my computer. I'm so sorry for how late this is, I've been upset because I had to delay it. It's here now though.)
When Mal came to you , talking about the Isle, you couldn't help but get excited. Your eyes lit up and your smile got wider at the thought of discussing it. Mal noticed your obvious signs of wanting to continue the conversation so she sat down next to you on the bed, looking out the open curtains where the students of Auradon Prep walked. The blonde girl looked over to you, the tips of her hair their typical purple. She sighed and looked back down, messing with her fingers, “Do you ever feel like…” She paused, unable to express how she felt in words. It would’ve been easier for her if you were the first person she went to, but you weren’t.
She went to Evie, Jay, Carlos, but none of them could understand where she was coming from. It was as if everyone was happy with their new lives, but her.
Mal groaned, putting her head into her hands, unable to speak anymore.
You looked at her curiously, placing a hand on her back and rubbing small circles into it. “You wanted to talk about the island…right?” You asked her, tilting your head to see her expression. She removed her hands and nodded, not looking at you. “Yeah.”
“Is it because…you miss it?”
There was a pause, as if the room itself stilled, as if the world stopped. You moved your hand a bit just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of magic freezing everything. 
Mal sat up straight, swallowing hard, “I don’t miss the island itself.” She confessed, making eye contact with you, “I miss who I was.” She explained, taking a deep breath, “Do you get what I mean?”
You looked at her blankly, tilting your head as you looked down at yourself. 
As you did so, she opened her mouth before closing it immediately. She shook her head and laughed, slapping your arm lightly. “You know what I mean!”
“Hey, I didn’t even say anything!” You chuckled out, putting an arm around her, placing your head on hers. “But…” You began, rubbing her arm softly as she leaned into you, “I do get where you’re coming from.”
Mal looked up, her eyes a bit water, “You do?”
You nodded with a smile, “We went from a life of no no structure, doing whatever we want, enjoying life to…” You blew air out of your mouth, sighing heavily, “Rules, etiquette, expectations.” 
The girl next to you stiffened at the last word before she relaxed, leaning more into your shoulder. “I just miss….” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“You miss the freedom.”
“Yeah, I miss the freedom.”
You nodded, thinking for a moment. Soon enough, you removed your arm from her and turned to her, “Then, get it back.”
“What?”
“Show everyone that you still deserve your freedom.” You explained, moving your hands with your words. “We didn’t stop being villain kids just because we started going to Auradon.” You continued watching as her eyes got bigger, “You don’t have to fit into these boxes people are trying to force us into.” You told her, shaking your head, “If they don’t understand that, then they never really understood you.”
Your words seemed to have gotten to Mal as she stood up quickly, a small smile on her face. “I needed that, thank you.” She told you, inhaling softly as she turned to the door to walk out.
You waved and mumbled a small ‘you’re welcome’ once the door was closed since she gave you no time to. 
You didn’t think much of it, you just assumed she would do something to show people that she was still herself even if she wasn’t ‘evil’, or necessarily ‘good’. 
Well, you didn’t think much of it until the next day when the VK group and Ben bursted into your room. You jumped, shoving a paper under your pillow as you clutch your chest. “Last I checked, knocking wasn’t a foreign concept.”
Evie mumbled a small apology as the rest stood with apologetic but serious faces.
You sat up since the air was so tense, tossing your legs over the bed to stand in front of them, “What’s up?”
“Mal left for the Isle.” Carlos blurted out, blinking rapidly as he looked everywhere but you.
Ben looked down with a guilty face, a frown placed on his lips. “We had a fight…” He mumbled, “She said I didn’t understand how…” He paused, clearing his throat, “She said I didn’t understand her.”
Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the realization and of the conversation you had with her.
Jay noticed your expression and knitted his brows together, “What?”
A harsh cough left your throat as you looked away from them, “I might’ve had something to do with that.”
The group simultaneously yelled, “What?!”
Your hands raised in an automatic surrender, “Hey, she came to me talking about the Isle,” You began your explanation, “and I miss my
Evie wasn’t pleased to say the least, she crossed her arms with a raised brow. “We are your people.”
You almost laughed, but given the situation you decided not to. “I miss my people.” You specified, your words reminding the group that all of you weren’t exactly the bestest of friends back on the island.
They couldn’t say anything, they knew you were right. Ben didn’t exactly get the message, and that reminded you all of why you were gathered in the first place.
You agreed to go to the Isle to help Mal.
You agreed, but you weren’t really going to help Mal. She lived there her entire life, you knew she would be fine. She knows her way around the island, she practically ran it. You weren’t going to the Island to help Mal, you were going home.
Once all of you reached the island, you thought you would all spread out to find Mal…that wasn’t the case. You all went in a suspiciously large group to find the daughter of Maleficent, something you thought was stupid.
You thought it was stupid, but you all still found where she was hiding out and Ben went to talk to her.
Evie, Jay, and Carlos all talked to each other as you scanned the area, kicking the ground slightly as time passed by. You were barely on the island and now you all were going to leave. It wasn’t how you wanted things to go, nothing was how you wanted to go.
Ben walked out and before anyone could question him, he walked straight past you guys. Everyone looked at each other and you sighed, “I’ll get him.” You grumbled, jogging after him.
“Ben!” You yelled, trying to catch up to him. “Ben, wait up!” You yelled once again, finally reaching him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”
“She doesn’t want to come with us, all of this was for nothing.” Ben spoke harshly, ripping his beanie off his head and throwing it to the ground.
You sighed, picking the beanie up, dusting it off. “Ben, do me a favor.”
“What!”
“Look around right now.” You told him, gripping the beanie tightly. He looked at you confused but you repeated, “Look around right now.”
Ben regulated his breathing, calming down enough to look around. It was cramped, cluttered, dirty even. It wasn’t properly cared for but the people around seemed to be having a good time nonetheless. 
When he looked back at you, you were looking at the children running around, trying to find a way to pick-pocket Ben. “This is how we grew up Ben…” You mumbled, finally making eye contact with Ben, “You can’t expect Mal, the daughter of the biggest villain who was on this island, to just snap into a princess.” You explained to him, shaking your head.
Ben turned, looking at the area around, “I didn’t realize…” He whispered, eyes flickering to something new the more he looked. 
When the son of Belle and the Beast turned around to face you again, you were nowhere to be found. He turned around quickly, breath picking up the pace as he looked for you, “Where’d you go?” He called out, spinning in a circle until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief, “Come on, that wasn’t fun-” The next thing he knew, everything went black.
Blurry eyes opened, a dry throat let out a cough, and vision restored. Ben looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on you. You were sat with a blank expression, seemingly uninterested in your current situation.
Ben muttered a few incoherent sentences but you cut him off for a moment.
“Getting kidnapped was not on my vacation bucket list.”
Neither of you could even begin a conversation after your words when someone started laughing. The two of you looked up and saw someone had walked in, seemingly amused at your situations. 
“Absolutely hilarious, you’re quite funny.” The male said, looking you over a bit before turning his attention to Ben to do the same thing.
Your brows furrowed as you broke out of whatever ‘trance’ you were in. “Harry?” You asked aloud, adjusting yourself to get a closer look at him.
He pointed his fake hook to you, placing it under his chin. “How do you know my name?”
“How does who know your name?” A voice called from behind the boy, footsteps getting louder as they neared.
Harry tilted his head, “This one.” He spoke, moving his hook from under your chin to step back.
The person that walked in was a girl, she had light blue braids and brown eyes. She stood tall with the hat of a pirate on. 
Your brows furrowed once again, your mind still a little fuzzy from your current situation. “Uma?” You mumbled out, tilting your head.
“You know these people?” Ben suddenly spoke out, trying to get out the rope that tied his hands behind his back.
You looked over at him, a bit unimpressed. “I was raised here, I know everyone here.”
Harry gasped falsely, fake hook over his heart, “You’re a VK?” He asked, not expecting you to answer, since he didn't believe you.
You nodded, forgetting that you look different so they don’t recognize you. “Uh, yeah.” You spoke as if it were obvious, “Born and raised.” You spoke, trying to jog their memory. “Uma, I was in your shop every single da-”
“Oh, and are we supposed to know you because of that?” She asked with a straight face, squatting down to bore her eyes into yours.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before opening them again, “If you said you didn’t, I’d be questioning our friendship.”
Your captors both laughed, looking at each other, “Friendship?”
Ben decided to give up, still listening to the conversation. So much was running through his mind, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation until…he realized something. You knew these people, you guys were friends, they just didn’t recognize you. If Ben reminded them, maybe they would let you guys go.
He thought it over before blurting out, “He’s the child of Jack Sparrow, so yes he is a villain kid.” 
Everyone went silent, their laughs were quiet, and your breathing stopped at Bens sudden exclamation.
You looked over and Ben looked you up and down, and that is when you realized…they don’t know who you are. You had changed so much in the past year, even your voice was different. How did you just expect them to recognize you?
When you looked back at the two pirates, they were staring you down. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under.
Uma squatted down in front of you, glaring harshly, “Don’t you ever disrespect her like that ever again.” She whispered to you seriously, her head whipping to Ben, “Don’t you ever mention her in front of me, again.”
Harry took a few deep breaths, “She would’ve been fine here, and you took her.” He told Ben, poking his chest with his hook. “If you ever try to lie to us, I will gut you like a fish.”
Uma nodded to the statement, “You think we wouldn’t know her family?” She asked you, tilting her head. “Jack Sparrow had one child, a daughter, and she’s never coming back.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek, “For you, a preppy, to just try to claim her father as your own for some sense of freedom…it’s disgusting.”
The blue haired girl stood slowly, keeping her eyes on you. You finally released the breath you were holding, when she removed herself from your space.
You blinked back a few tears as they turned to walk out the door. Harry gently took Umas hand, whispering some things that you couldn't hear.
They were so good together, they still defended your name even if they thought you weren't there. You didn't expect your chest to hurt so badly when they protected you, even if they believed you were gone for good.
“I would’ve joined your crew even if I lost that race.” You mumbled, looking at their backs with sad eyes.
The two paused before turning to you, “Excuse me?” Uma asked, standing in place.
“The race..” You trailed off, “If you won I would join your crew, if I won you would have to spend a week proving to me how much you wanted me to join and then I’d give you my answer.” You continued, nodding with your own words. You didn't notice how they continued to walk towards you. You continued on, “Unfortunately, I was dragged to Auradon before I could answer you, so I’m doing it now.” You told them, looking up to see both of them analyzing you with parted lips, “I was going to join your crew anyways.”
Umas eyes were focusing on each of your features before she cupped your face, looking at you more intensely.
Harry looked up, making eye contact with you, “You have her eyes…” He muttered, taking off his hook to trace your cheeks.
You swallowed harshly before breathing out a chuckle, your cheeks warming a bit. “I would hope so, I was born with my eyes, guys.”
Uma shook her head, “But she’s… you’re not…”
“A girl…I know.” You whispered out, looking down, or trying to. Harry picked your head back up swiftly.
His eyes were watering slightly, “You’re telling the truth aren’t you?”
You nodded as best as you could with his hands on your cheeks. “I know I don’t look the same…”
He shook his head, “But you’re still you…” 
Uma quickly untied the rope keeping you tied up, trying her best to go quickly. She had ordered her crew to tie your guys up from your arms to your legs, and now she was regretting it. Harry noticed her struggle and began to help untie you, muttering curses when he got to harder knots.
Once you were untied, you rubbed at your wrists, looking down for a moment at the burn. 
You looked up, finally, and were met with Harry and Uma on their knees, staring at you. Their eyes were teary, their chests were rising and falling deeper than ever, neither could speak.
You felt your own eyes begin to water as you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around the both of them.
Harry's arm immediately went around you, he began to cry into your shoulder, holding you tightly. “We thought we’d never see you again.” 
Uma, on the other hand, was hesitant. She slowly wrapped her arm around you. When she did, she felt a rush of familiar comfort, a heat rushing through her chest, something she only felt with Harry and…you. She bit her tongue so as to not cry as she buried her nose into your other shoulder, “We would’ve found a way to you anyways.”
The warmth of the two enveloped you as you finally got to be near them again, as you finally got to feel their comforting arms again. “I have no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me again.” You whispered to them, trying to hold them tighter.
Harry rambled on about never leaving them again, Uma ran her fingers down your back, both of them weren't letting you go anytime soon.
Uma sniffled a bit, "We missed you so much."
"I missed you guys too, more than you'll ever know."
You were finally with your people again. Now, you didn’t have to stare at a picture of the three of you, wishing they were in your arms.
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luxthestrange · 3 months
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TWST Incorrect quotes#705 Feeding time
Idia: I bet he's hungry...
Leona: How about some milk?
Idia: Ooh, I'd love some!
Mal:: Not you, the baby!
Idia: Well, I ain't exactly lactating right now, pal!
Mal: You're a little low on the food chain to be mouthing off, aren't you shroud...
Leona: ENOUGH!!! *His shout echoes through the empty dorm* Enough, enough, enough!?
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-After the three big men asked...the grunkle ghost trio for help on feeding Grim...they are now putting Grim to bed in his bed-
Leona: Bedtime, squirt* tuck Grim in his bed and settled himself in your bed, he looked at Malleus, who was asleep in your chair and then he noticed Idia returning* Oh, the triumphant return
Idia: Huh? Oh, that*laugh nervously* I'm so full. How about a good night kiss for your big buddy Idee~
Leona: Shh! He's asleep
Idia: I was talking to you
Leona gives a disgusted look on idia as he prepares to dust off the futon to sleep on the floor
Idia: Fine, I'll tuck myself in-*Lays down on the floor in a futon, yawning*All right... Good Night... 
He flops on the rock, then turns over...as he's turning over and over, Leona becomes slightly irritated as he watches idia quirk around on the futon...idia groans and moans becoming more annoying as he moves around
Leona*Growls angrily; startling Idia* WILL YOU STOP IT!
Idia*sheepishly*All right, All right, jeez... I was just trying to relax-
He finds a comfortable spot on the floor and begins to suck his thumb
Leona: Oie..
Part 3 of:
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parad-ice-lostandfound · 10 months
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Prompt: "I don't care that you're hanging up lights, get off the roof!"
Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Gn!Reader/Prefect/Yuu
Genre: Fluff, Slight hurt/comfort
TW: Reader falls off a roof (but they're okay, don't worry)
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You were a brave human.
Malleus had made this assumption on your second meeting, when you graced him with that silly nickname that he now held so dear. The casual way you interacted with him may have stemmed from your ignorance regarding his true identity, but to see you continue to use it even after learning he was the heir apparent to Briar Valley had left him with a pleasant warmth in his chest and his cheeks.
He adored every part of you, including that bravery of yours that made him fall for you in the first place.
But dear Sevens, that bravery would be the death of him one day.
"Child of man," he called out to you, a mix of puzzlement and concern in his eyes, "what are you doing up on the roof?"
"Hornton!" You visibly brightened as you noticed him, waving your arm so vigorously at him that he feared you would fall from your place on top of Ramshackle's roof. Malleus took a step ahead, worry flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you.
"I'm hanging up some lights for the winter holidays! Ramshackle's gonna look nice and festive this winter," you spoke, showing him the bundle of wires with lights on them that you had next to you.
"Is it truly necessary?" He asked, acutely aware of the pain in his neck from looking up at you. Was this how you felt when you had to look up at him? Now, that would not do; he would have to find a way to make it so that you wouldn't feel any pain in your neck while looking up-
His train of thought was derailed by the sight of you leaning forward almost dangerously. "I'm gonna be fine, don't worry," you told him, a carefree smile on your face.
"Child of man, Ramshackle has no need to be decorated. It is beautiful just the way it is," and so are you, went unsaid. Malleus took a step closer, talking softly and gently, trying to coax you to come down. "Please, come down before you hurt yourself."
"You worry too much Mal-Mal, I'll be fiNE-"
In your attempt to reassure him, you had taken a step ahead on the roof, slipping and getting your leg tangled in the wire.
Malleus' heart nearly stopped as he saw you fall. He casted a spell almost immediately, catching you mid-air with his magic before letting you down onto the ground carefully.
Your legs gave out beneath you from almost falling to your death, and you sat heavily on the ground. Malleus rushed to you, quickly kneeling to check you for any injuries, even though he had saved you with his magic. You rested your hands on his biceps, trembling slightly due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you allowed him to look you over.
After making sure you were alright, he pulled you into a hug, his larger frame hiding you from view as he held you close to his chest. You held onto him just as tightly, and for the next few minutes you both just sat in silence, holding onto each other and thinking of what could have happened had he not been there.
"Now I understand what Lilia meant when he used to say that Silver and I would shave years off his lifespan whenever we went off into the forest without letting him know," he said after a few tense moments, voice slightly shaky. Your hands held on tighter at his words, feeling guilty. One of his hands curled protectively over your head, while the other rested on your back.
"I-" your throat felt dry, tight. You couldn't get your words out, even as Malleus waited for you to finish your reply. So you settled on squeezing him tight, trying to make him feel your apology for scaring him when you couldn't put it in words.
"Next time, please allow me to do this sort of thing for you, my dear. Even with how long my life is sure to be, I would rather not deal with such stress ever again," he told you gently, smiling when you nodded, your face hidden against him.
He picked you up, and took you inside Ramshackle, your plans of decorating the roof left for another day.
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Back to Masterlist...
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billsbabydoll · 19 days
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“𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝒶𝓂ℯ𝓇𝒶, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎!”
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contains:PURE SMUT<3
warnings:barely any plot just straight into yk what, three-some, hard-dom!bill, hard-dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (doggy-style), oral (m!receiving), light degrading, light praising, light spanking, bill and tom making a sex-tape with reader, basically bill and tom treating reader like a total sex-doll.
note:sorry this story doesn’t have much of a plot but i couldn’t really think of one that fit with such heavy fucking lol.
“oh my god, look at her tom!”bill exclaimed chuckling as he proceeded to zoom the camera lens onto my oozing pussy, tom giggling along with him,
“was für eine verdammte schlampe..(what a fucking slut.)”he replied smugly, intently looking down at my weak figure that was currently trying to recover from the 3rd orgasm ive just endured.
“mal sehen, wie viel mehr sie aushält, bill(let’s see how much more she can take it.)”
tom then rapidly flipped me over to my stomach placing me in doggy position, as bill sat himself near my face still camera in hand, while tom squeezed and slapped my ass a few times before inserting his veiny cock inside my aching cunt.
“t’much i-cant mhm!”i cried out looking up at the camera before staring into bills lustful eyes, my hands turning white from how tightly i was gripping the bed sheets, my tears flowing down and ruining more of my already destroyed makeup.
“aw poor baby-”he cooed down at me from above, slightly leaning down to place a comforting kiss on my lips before pulling away.
“es ist alles in ordnung, wir sind fast fertig damit, dass du weiterhin hübsch für die kamera aussiehst, schatz(its okay we’re almost done with you just keep looking pretty for the camera honey.)”he further explained, a devilish smile creeping on the corners of his lips.
“ughh-okay!”
were the only words tom needed to hear before he began to aggressively pound away at my walls, his tip slamming profusely against my bruised cervix.
“fuck fuck fuck!”tom shouted behind me one of his hand keeping me in place, his jaw dropped as loud grunts spewed from his lips.
bill moved back a bit, recording every second of the scene that was happening right infront of his own eyes, zooming out the camera lens to capture the quite pornographic moment.
after a minute or two bill scooted back up to my face, moving the camera down to his cock and my lips curved into a cheeky smile as he rubbed my drool on my red tender lips, before leaning forward and handing the recorder to tom.
“gonna fill that lil whore mouth up, better take fucking all of it, understood?” he demanded as he gestured for me to open my mouth, sliding his full girth into my mouth stopping once his tip hit the back of throat.
they continued to fuck my brains into utter mush and all i could really feel is, tom using my pussy to pure filth chanting the most pathetic words down at me while filming my ass clapping on his length, and bills cock painfully ramming in and out of my throat his precious whimpers filling my ears, both equally fucking me at the most primal pace.
soon the familiar pleasurable knot began to bubble up in my stomach,
“i-im gonna cummhm!”
“hold it dumb bitch, ughh f-fucking hold it!”tom yells at me, harshly slapping my ass as a sign to immediately obey, quickly giving the recorder back to bill.
“smile for the camera baby,
here comes the cum shot!”
bill excitedly exclaimed pulling his length out of my mouth momentarily, zooming into my heaving and fucked-out face, panning out to tom finally letting me cum as he as well finally proceeds to coats my walls completely white with his hot load.
this takes bill straight to the edge, shifting the cameras focus back again down to my lips as he urgently stuffs his cock inside my mouth, his thick seed deliciously splatting onto my tongue.
they then both pulled their members out of me, letting me fall and collapse onto the sticky drenched sheets, our mixed juices spilling out of my cunt and mouth.
“yeah we definitely gotta’ bring that tape on tour with us bill.”
“nein nein (no no), shes coming with us atleast we know shes down to share.”
THE END
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dreamofjoys · 1 year
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You became drunk in the heartslaybul's dorm due to the amount of alcohol that Ace and Deuce had sneaked in - a mini party between the 3 of you. And now, your drunken state has been crying and begging to see your boyfriend, Malleus. The duo could only brace themself with what's going to happen next as they bring you to diasomnia's dorm, praying that your boyfriend would not strike them down with lightning after seeing your current state.
— c/w: Reader is drunk, crack(??? im bad at stuff like this haha lmk if it's funny enough), injuries, underage drinking
— a/n: As i was writing this, i recalled that there are similar fics like this out there but this is just my own version. happy reading!
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"I want Malleus!" You cried out, banging both of your fist on the table as the duo stares at you with panic on their face.
"No no, you don't need Malleus. You are a strong and independent person without that scary-"
"Malleus is not scary!" A plate flew past Ace's ear, nearly hitting him if not for his excellent dodgy skills. "Should we just bring them to Malleus-senpai? Maybe he will be able to handle them." Deuce suggested, to which Ace was about to rebut back if not for the sudden loud cry and wailing coming from you.
"Mal-Malleus!Wh-where are you..." You tried standing up from the chair, only for your legs to start wobbling before falling onto the ground, your nose and knees hitting first. "Be careful!" Ace and Deuce hurriedly step forward, standing on either side of you and linking their arms under yours to lift you up from the ground. "MALLEUSSS!!!!!" You wailed, not caring about your friends who are staring at you weirdly, and perhaps, a little anxious. You didn't know what was going on, or what invoked you to suddenly throw a tantrum to see your boyfriend. You had already met him early morning when he offered to send you to class. But somehow, the alcohol managed to make you feel cloud nine, and you wanted nothing more then to just go to your boyfriend and bask into his embrace.
The duo could only look at each other sigh, mentally preparing themself for what's coming next as they accompany - well, assist - you to diasomnia dorm.
The walk to diasomnia was agonizingly long. You would trip on your own feet here and there, occasionally stopping just to breakdown about how much you want to see Malleus. Deuce would comfort you, saying that they are bringing you to see Malleus now. Ace would groan, trying to wreck his brain to find if there's any excuses that he can say to save both their sorry ass. Nonetheless, they tried to prolong the walk to your boyfriend's territory so as to prepare themselves mentally.
When the 3 of you had finally reach the entrance to Diasomnia dorm, the double doors swung open before either of you could knock on it. Right in front of you stands your boyfriend in all his glory, his dorm uniform having just ironed into perfection, his shoes polished perfectly with a shine that leaves everyone staring in awe. His gloves were washed with the most expensive softener, just so that you would be able to hold his hands in the upmost comfort.
Malleus knew that you were here before you even reach the doors. He was delighted that his beloved has came to visit him first, and was preparing to greet you with his fanged smile, the one that you love so dearly. Until he saw your drunk figure slumping on Deuce.
Upon finally seeing your boyfriend, you immediately pushed away the two that was supporting your stance, launching yourself forward to Malleus. If it wasn't for Malleus quick reflexes, you would have suffered from another fall again. "Malleus!" You beamed in delight, immediately wrapping your arms around Malleus's neck while he adjust you in his hold, carrying you in bridal style.
The smell of alcohol was quick to invade his sense, and it didn't take long for the prince to figure out what had happened. The duo was known for being trouble makers, they must have dragged you into one of their mischievous plans. "Are you okay?" Malleus asked, noticing that your happy facade was gone, replaced with a sad expression. You looked up to meet your lover's gaze, and his heart aches at the sight of your red teary eyes, cheeks and nose flushed as equally red as a tomato. Your lips starts wobbling as you break down for the nth time of the day.
"My knees....it hurts....Uwahhhh!! Malleus, i-it hurts!" Oh, if only you know how much your cries are hurting Malleus. He turns his attention to your knees, finally realising the ugly blue black bruise that was littered on your kneecaps with a hint of blood. Suddenly, a flash of lightning strikes onto the ground, right behind both Ace and Deuce. Both of them sweat profusely as they watch Malleus wiping off the stray tears on your cheeks, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.
When you finally fell asleep due to exhaustion, the duo was truly trying to prepare for the worst. They finally noticed how tall Malleus was, his figure looming over them, shadow long and big enough to engulf both of them in darkness. Malleus was strong enough to just carry you with one arm without any struggles. The hand that was previously wiping away your tears has now shift to the side of your head, guiding it to rest on his shoulder. His hand were large enough to almost cover your whole face, and he takes advantage of this fact to protect your head.
The duo gulps, finally getting to witness firsthand how protective Malleus is over you, and just how scary he is. "There will be no second time." Malleus's words cuts through the atmosphere like a knife. His tone was cold and deadly, with a hint of bloodlust. If anything, it doesn't help how Malleus's green slitted eyes constricts in the dark, that terrifying glare will hunt the poor heartslaybul students forever as they start to apologise profusely, before running off to god knows where.
Malleus scoff, finally glad that he was alone with you again. Teleporting the both of you to his room, Malleus climbs onto the bed with you, laying your body on his bed. Your head has been shifted to rest on his muscular thighs while he sits up to lean his back on the bedframe. With a snap of his fingers, magic blooms around you, and he had you changed to a comfortable night gown. The bruises on your knees were long gone as if they were never there in the first place.
He stares at your sleeping figure, a smile suddenly creeping up onto his face when he realised how cute you are when you sleep. You were quite adorable when you were drunk too, clinging onto him as if your life depended on him. He would have entertained you even more if not for your injuries. Malleus chuckles to himself, his hand wandering to your face, pinching at your soft cheeks before travelling back to your head, letting his finger comb through your soft locks.
He already had a concrete plan on how to deal with the duo. But for now, he just wants to spend some time with you, and take care of your needs.
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jester-lover · 9 months
Note
Could you do a Diasomnia dorm with their soulmates? Like the guys meeting soulmate for the first time, mc preferably being a human for that extra drama in case you’d want to add that?💙
Soulmate Sorrows
Oh you know I love the drama. Thank you for requesting, I hope my favoritism towards Sebek doesn’t show as much.
Feat/ Diasomnia
CWs/gn! Reader, angst-to-fluff, mentions of mortality, war and discrimination, brief kidnapping/isolation, bittersweet fluff (various soulmate aus), uhh, Sebek insults you pretty heavy
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I took the creative liberty of making Lilia and Silver’s more humorous to tone down the angst of Sebek and Mal. (Also, I hope someone notices the flower language in the Sebek HCs.)
Malleus
When Malleus saw the red string on his finger connected to yours, he was filled with a sense of pure and simple happiness
As he holds you in his warm embrace, some realization hits him like a brick
As a human, you would live for a minuscule amount of time compared to him; he would see you grow gray and weak and pass on as he held onto your memory for eons to come
Or, even worse, a simple accident could take you away from him in the blink of an eye
Some sort of dragon instinct fills Malleus for a while, always suggesting to spend time with you away from others who may hurt you
He tries to keep you safe by hiding you from others, but humans like you are social creatures, and even the most introverted of us need some communication every once in awhile
He slowly realized he would be making you miserable by hiding you away and eventually stopped his behavior, apologizing to you meekly
During this process, Malleus breaks.
He cries into your arms, apologizing for his actions and revealing his fears and worries
As you comfort him, you tell him that you’ll be happy to be his for whatever time you have, and he decides from that point onward to keep you happy no matter what
He’s a very tender, affectionate lover
You can expect to sleep in his big bed, with the warm prince wrapped around you, and to hold his hand in between classes
Malleus seemingly forgets any social norms from his home when it comes down to you; he will literally fight tooth and nail with his advisers to keep you as his spouse when the time comes
Mortality rarely comes up in your discussions after a certain point, as he focuses on keeping you happy and safe
“My dearest, long after you’ve passed, I will still only have you in my heart... you’ve taken up all the space.”
Lilia
He’s as playful as ever when he sees the matching tattoo on your arm; his own is practically centuries old, and while he was content with being alone, he's so happy to see you!
Lilia might play his feelings off as being plainly giddy, but deep down he does worry a bit about how the two most important people in his life will most definitely outlive him
Now that he has a partner, a strange form of protectiveness surrounds him, like he’s found another purpose, a reason to grow stronger 
(A reason to cook more!)
 Moving on from that more serious topic, Lilia will be most excited to spend time just lounging about with you, strumming little melodies on his guitar, taking you on upside-down walks, cliche couple stuff, y’know?
(Just wait till he starts spilling historical tea)
To wind down and enjoy the little moments with the family he’s built, however long it lasts, is a major priority in his life
“I need someone to try out my new recipe~, all the ingredients are actually edible this time around!”
Silver
y'all are chill lmao
Okok, but when he sees you start showing up in his dreams, he’s a little freaked out, partially because you’re very attractive to him but mostly because he has zero clue how to navigate romance
Imagine going on a date with him, and he’s down for the count in the first 10 minutes
Thankfully, I assume you are aware of his sleep habit, and he’s always very grateful when you wake him up 
Despite his stern exterior, Silver has a tendency to show his deep affection for you through acts of service, such as helping you clean Ramshackle House, because God knows how much it needs help (thanks, Crow Man).
Another little quirk about him is his tendency to go along with any cute couple activity you want to do
Wanna wear matching outfits? Cool with him.
Walk him to his classes? Absolutely.
Be the loudest spectator at his equestrian club meets? He appreciates the enthusiasm.
Even if you consider yourself to be a volatile or argumentative person, it’s very hard for Silver to get mad at you because of the genuine adoration and respect he holds for you
He can’t wait to grow older alongside you, to see you at your best, your worst, and your most human moments, until the two of you are old and wrinkly
“I saw something I thought you’d like at the store while I was running errands… maybe we could make dinner together…?”
Sebek
NO.
this is Sebek's worst nightmare come true; the words written on his wrist were the first you ever spoke to him, you, you disgusting, vile, no good human...
He runs far away, back into his room, and under his covers
He refuses to speak to you, refuses to look at you, and refuses to do anything involving you
For a couple of days, he just sulks, which is super heartbreaking for you, considering the fact that you can't control who you are, and your only soulmate just harshly rejected you
Sebek cries a lot. Like, a lot. at one point or another, his mother calls him to verbally smack some sense into him (and most likely Lilia too)
You see him standing at the door of Ramshackle House, breathing heavily as Grim offers to flambé him for you
You decide to hear him out, and he practically spills his years of self-loathing and hurt on your lap
Some part of you hurts for your soulmate, and you hold him in your arms
This relationship starts out turbulent, to say the least, but there’s a mental click that happens for him at one point, where he just realizes how if his own mother found joy with a human, he can too
Sebek tries his best to earn your trust, trying to break down the emotional layers his own internal bigotry has put between you
(it’s also very cute when he shows up with a bouquet of daffodils, as per Lilia’s recommendation) 
You two definitely have a long road ahead of you, but Sebek’s affection is loud and unwavering, and while he might be stubborn in his nature, he knows when to cool it down now
For your sake and for the lifelong relationship he wants with you
“Human! I have a few hours to spare before training, would you like to read with me?”
OMG I actually posted??? I'm crawling through requests as fast as I can ya'll, school has been destroying my creativity for the last few weeks.
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tarjapearce · 1 year
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Lips anon! The wife deciding to do some at home excersize stretches to get herself back into shape after popping out a baby lol
Miguel gets very intrigued and decides to join her...in gray sweatpants 🤭
He thought it was appropriate, she can't just (unintentionally) tease him with those tight leggings and sports bra 😈
He's a tease. And he knows it. 😌
------
Even though Miguel had said that you hadn't changed a bit after giving him Benjamin, you had decided to do something about it.
Some of your favorite clothing had stopped fitting you, the pieces would be either too small on the chest or too tight in your thighs and glutes.
Despite feeling a bit dysmorphic, you had decided to exercise at home, after putting Benjamin to sleep and helping Gabi with her homework. You moved some of the furniture aside to create a bit more of space so you could stretch properly.
Tight magenta high waisted leggings only snugged your form, and the sports bra, a blue one that still had the tag and was forgotten in the back of your drawer, held your breast with care and firmness. Making the curve of them to pop out a bit more than intended.
Hair in a lazy ponytail, swayed as you stretched. You would bend, test your limbs flexibility, and work out. You had pulled some of Miguel's dumbells and equipment out.
Thirty minutes into it and you were a sweaty mess. Miguel had stayed at home, something about the lab being closed off for maintenance. He was working on his computer when you started working out.
The way you stretched and bend over just made his mind to be flooded with all those good times you had been having lately. But when you bent to reach your toes, he just swallowed at the sight of your rear.
He stood and returned minutes later with his grey workout sweatpants. You were doing the downward dog stretch, he took a hold of your hips, which startled you.
"Lo estás haciendo mal. You're gonna hurt yourself. Lemme" (You're doing it wrong.)
His large hands pulled your hips up, positioning you in all fours with ease. You whipped your ponytail aside and stared at him with a sweet yet playful smirk.
"Careful, chula. The kids are around." He wouldn't be subtle when passing his hands over your butt, and gave it a firm squeeze as he nodded.
"Rico." (Delicious)
"Miguel" You half warned half laughed as he helped you to stretch properly.
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Text
Oops
Azriel x f!Reader
Masterlist.
Summary; Azriel finally meets his mate but quickly regrets it when he finds out how energetic, excited and clumsy she is.
Warnings; mentions of injury. Swearing. Traumatized Cassian.
Just a quick thought I had last night.
Azriel was obsessed with finding his mate so when he finally found you he was ecstatic and then… horrified. He really started to believe that the cauldron was probably caring for his well-being by keeping you hidden. It probably wanted him to live for some years because now that he met you he doubted he would survive long. You were unbearable, insufferable and the reason he had at least one heart attack every day. He couldn’t understand how you could be so naive, energetic and excited every damn minute. Add clumsy to that recipe and there you have it… disaster. He had to remove all his weapons from the rooms you used too, then simple objects like a table lamp became an issue so he got rid of them too. He wondered if he had to remove all the furniture from his room and just leave a mattress on the floor. His shadows were sticking on his side every night exhausted from keeping an eye on you, they looked so desperate that he pitied them. 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel was on a mission and you were feeling bored, so you decided to see if Cassian wanted to hang out. You knocked on his bedroom door and waited, bouncing up and down from the anticipation. You heard some rustling and then the door opened. 
“Hey sweetie what’s up?” Cassian smiled when he saw you.
“Az went on a mission and I’m bored” you pouted “wanna hang out?” 
“Yes give me a second to get my shoes” he said and walked back into his room. 
When he came back you decided to go to the city and stroll around.
It was a busy day so the streets were filled with people, you watched as everyone walked around and a burst of energy hit you like a wave. 
“I’ll race you to the square” you yelled and took off. Cassian hot on your heels as he screamed “oh it’s on” 
Everyone jumped out of your way, their eyes wide and their jaws open. Usually you had to push your way through crowd but now that you had an Illyrian giant running behind you they were horrified. 
Just as you were reaching the square you tripped and landed face-first on the ground with a scream. Cassian tried to jump over you since he wasn’t able to stop but he couldn’t so he fell on top of you with a grunt. You felt the air leaving your lungs and groaned.
“Oh no, sweetie are you okay?” Cassian’s voice was soft as he rolled to the ground next to you, his expression panicked.
“Yeah I just…need…a moment…. to catch… my breath” you said between pants.
The general smiled and rubbed your back. 
After a while you pushed yourself up, a grin appearing on your face as you cheered “what’s next?” 
Cassian frowned and stared.
“What?” You asked.
“You want more?” He choked.
“Of course” you giggled and grabbed his arm pulling him with you. 
You guided him in an abandoned building that had been destroyed when the Hybern army attacked the city. You climbed to the roof and sat there.
“The view here is incredible” you said and stared the people passing by the street beneath you.
“You live in the house of wind where the view is a million times better” Cassian snorted.
“Yes but I can’t see the expressions on their faces” you shrugged and pointed at the people beneath you.
You were kicking your legs as you explained to Cassian that you liked to sit here and make stories about the passing by faeries.
“See that kid there? Well he has a crush on the store owner’s daughter so every day he goes there and buys an ice cream just to see her” 
“You can’t know that” Cassian exclaimed.
“No but that’s the fun part of the game… you can make your own stories” 
So you spent the rest of the day there, Cassian’s stories were hilarious and you were in tears, your abdomen aching from laughing so hard.
“Okay okay look at her” he pointed at a female who was running down the street “she had an awful first date with a stingy male and he took her to an old and cheap restaurant and now she has explosive diarrhea and she’s rushing home”
You burst into laughter and leaned forward, you couldn’t breathe and suddenly you lost your balance slipping from the roof and falling into the void. Cassian gasped and jumped, his wings flaring behind him but he wasn’t quick enough and with a groan you landed on your back and darkness engulfed you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When you opened your eyes again you were met with the familiar sight of the ceiling in your shared room with Azriel. 
“You’re awake” a feminine voice said.
You snapped your head in the direction of the voice and felt dizzy by the sudden move.
“Easy y/n… you were hurt” you squinted and saw Madja by your side.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?” She smiled.
“Everything hurts” you croaked.
“I know you are completely bruised and you have a few broken ribs” she caressed your head “I left a tonic here it should help with the pain… if you need something ask someone to come get me” 
“Okay…” you mumbled and she left. You closed your eyes and let sleep take over.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Where the fuck is she?” Someone’s deep voice boomed through the house and you could swear the floor trembled. 
You opened your eyes and tried to listen.
“I don’t give a fuck Cassian, I will handle you when I’m sure that she is okay” it wasn’t just someone’s deep voice but your favorite one, your mate’s. 
You heard loud footsteps getting closer and you tried to sit up, a groan leaving you. The door burst open and Azriel ran to you.
“Are you okay?” He looked like a mess, his eyes were red with black circles beneath them, his hair tangled and his lips looked dry and chapped.
“Are YOU okay?” You asked and grabbed his jaw, hissing at the pain when you lifted your arm.
“I’m okay just tired, I flew as fast as I could to get here” he sighed “where does it hurt? What did Madja say? Do you need something?” He asked in one breath.
“Az calm down I’m okay, just bruised and a few broken ribs. Nothing I can’t handle… I’ve had worse” you smiled.
He snorted at the statement and pressed his forehead against yours.
“Yeah I know you had worse… you are going to be the death of me” he whispered and grabbed your hand placing it on his chest. His heart was beating so fast and hard that you thought it would explode.
“I’m sorry” you mumbled.
“It’s okay… I love your clumsy annoying self” he smiled.
He crawled into bed but kept some distance between the two of you afraid that he was going to hurt you. He was facing you with a longing expression and he draped a protective wing over you. 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Morning came and you woke up with Azriel by your side staring at you. 
“Good morning angel” he smiled when you opened your eyes.
“Morning handsome” you mumbled and leaned closer to him. 
“How are you feeling?” He asked and brushed his palm over your cheek. 
“Better, I think with a little help I can get up” you smiled and he groaned earning a confused look from you.
“Here we go again… You were safe here in bed now I have to chase you around all day” he sighed and you giggled.
“I want to go to Cassian and tell him that I’m okay. I don’t want him to feel sad and guilty” you confessed and Azriel growled.
“Come on Az it’s not his fault. I’ve been hurt multiple times around you and I don’t blame you” you pleaded.
“Okay but I think that he is terrified of you, I heard him say that you are not normal” he murmured and got up. 
He helped you get up and guided you to Cassian’s room, you knocked and waited. 
Rustling and then silence.
“Come on Cassie it’s me” you shouted 
Then you heard a gasp and the door locked. And then a high pitched scream 
“Be gone demon” 
Azriel’s lips were a tight line as he nodded and then said “yup traumatized” 
I have some things to do today so I won't be able to post. Requests are open but delayed!
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