#if there are any dark girlies who would like to help me out with writing olive more accurately

[autistook]

Botanical Attachment

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

Mimosa Weatherhill x Olive Appleby (original female hobbit characters)

Olive Appleby is a quick-witted barmaid at the Green Dragon. Her usual night takes a turn when she meets Mimosa Weatherhill. Olive is struck by Mimosa’s beauty and shy demeanor, and their brief encounter leaves both yearning for more.

Because of the traditional values and prejudice in the Shire, Olive and Mimosa have to keep their blossoming love a secret from everyone; it's not something anyone in the Shire would necessarily want to see - a relationship between two women, that is.

While struggling with being wooed by male suitors and sneaking around, the two grow a deep connection; one they never imagined they could have.

READ ON AO3

Status: Started

Keywords: Forbidden wlw romance, sercet love, lgbtq+, fluff, possibly smut, angst

All the chapters might not be released in order of their story: I write the part of their journey I want to explore.

[kingkat12]

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink," 

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here. 

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with. 

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either. 

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality. 

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table. 

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected. 

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room. 

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation. 

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms. 

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude. 

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this.  "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat. 

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters. 

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra. 

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what. 

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes. 

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss. 

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on. 

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time," 

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

[halfgirl-halfdolll]

Extremely self-indulgent. For the neurodivergent girlies. English isn't my first language, so my apologies for any mistake. I also have no idea how to write a Scottish accent 🧘🏻‍♀️ bear with me

You knocked on the dark hardwood door as you've had done plenty of times before.

It has been almost six months since you've signed that contract. That one, the one where you forfeited 4 years of your life in exchange for stable wages and proper housing.

For someone with no life, no family and no friends (besides the online weirdos you'd talk to from time to time), that was kinda good, if you could say so yourself.

You had stability, even though it came with the cost of being tied down to a military base chock-full of people who didn't really understand you.

That was fine though. THAT, you were used to. It comes with the neurodivergence: the side eyes, the whispers and the isolation.

What you weren't used to, however, was how your heart would race like a rabbit on a run for its life whenever you knocked on that one door. And you had to knock on it quite a lot of times.

You rapped your knuckles against the hardwood once more when you got no reply, cracking the door open just a little bit to peek inside.

"Cap?" You said, voice almost a whisper. After a few seconds, you heard an answer.

"Come in, love. Didn't know it was you." A strong, booming voice came from inside and you swallowed the lump on your throat that always formed whenever you had to go to Price's office.

Not because you were afraid of him, no. On the contrary. Maybe Price and the rest of the task force were the only ones who didn't treat you like an aberration – probably because they were aberrations of their own merit.

Maybe it was stupid of you to get giddy over being treated well by some of your coworkers, but when the bare minimum was so rare, you latched onto it like a dog with a bone.

And in spite of yourself, you couldn't control your own heart. It would be racing like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever you went to visit any of the men from the task force. You gave up on trying to tame it.

"Hi Cap" you said, with a small smile, approaching his desk. On the corner of your eyes, you saw the other three burly men that made up 141 and waved.

"Hey, lass, good ta see ya!" Soap hollered, voice loud as ever. You could probably feel it vibrating inside your bones if he spoke for a little longer and you loved it; as much as you envied it. What wouldn't you do to be just a little bit outgoing like that? Maybe things would be just a tad easier.

"How can I help my favorite secretary?" Price asked, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, crow's feet getting a lot more pronounced in a way you probably thought of more than you should.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm your only secretary."

"Doesn't make my statement any less true."

You shook your head and placed a manila folder in front of him.

"I need your autograph, Cap."

"What for?"

"Because I'm your biggest fan and I wanna put it on my refrigerator...?" You answered humorously, and Price raised an eyebrow. You sighed. "We need to authorize the training of a few new recruits and they need your approval. So I need you to sign it."

Price huffed out a low chuckle and began leafing through the needlessly thick document. You poked your finger into the folder, fishing out the last pages, and walked towards the other men sitting on the other side of the office.

"I like today's dress, love." Gaz was manspreading on one of Price's armchairs, head resting on his palm as he gave you an once over. If it were anyone else, you'd probably hate the way you were being perceived – it usually made you feel like a bug being watched through a magnifying glass. But under his gaze, you just felt like a doll being admired.

"Do you, now? It's one of my favorites." You bowed dramatically while holding the hem of the dress. It was just another one of the black frilly dresses that you wore like a signature. It flew around you as you spun on your feet to show the black ribbon on the back.

"Adorable as always. If I wasn't selfish, I would say it's wasted inside this base, but I like to have you around way too much." His eyes gleamed with mirth and, in any other situation, you'd think he was secretly mocking you – but not Kyle. Not any one of them. You knew the compliments were genuine, even if they didn't understand why you insisted on sticking out like a sore thumb when it brought you so many problems.

You knew they would never really understand how masking could hurt you, but you were grateful they still defended your decision on just being yourself.

"Look at tha' key on yer neck." Soap pointed at your necklace. "I ken what's tha' for. It's the key to my heart, aye?" He said with an exaggerated wink and a smile that could blind you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." You rolled your eyes, smiling, and pushed a paper into his hand and did the same with Gaz and Ghost.

"I need your autographs as well. You heard my explanation already."

" 'm not built for a life of fame, love." Simon grunted, shifting on his seat right beside Soap.

"Too late, the spotlight already found you. Now you gotta give me your autograph or I'm gonna cancel you on social media."

He huffed.

"Don't ya think I should have been canceled a long time ago?"

"Probably." You shrugged, and handed him a pen. "I like my favorites problematic, what can I say."

Soap barked out a laugh, mindlessly scanning the document and Ghost merely shook his head.

"Do I gotta sign this? Don't really feel like training new runts." The masked man muttered and you shrugged.

"Don't shoot the messenger. I don't really want new young men around me either." You walked back towards Price's desk after collecting the documents and placed them neatly inside the folder after he was done surveying every single fine print.

"What do you guys want for lunch?" You asked as you tucked the documents under your arm. Price clicked his tongue.

"You don't have to keep bothering with making food for us, love. We can all eat at the canteen like everyone else." The older man leaned back on his chair, folding his arms.

You looked to the side, with a small pout on your lips.

"But if I make you guys' lunch, then I can emotionally blackmail you into eating with me at the kitchen." You mumbled, avoiding any and all eye contact.

"So it was all a ploy to keep us nearby? I thought you were doing that because you liked us. I'm so hurt, dear." Kyle spoke up from his seat, a dramatic hand over his chest as he leaned his head back. You put a hand over your mouth, hiding your grin.

"Maybe I'm just learning a thing or two from hanging around tacticians?"

"Aw, Captain, come on. How can we leave the poor doll hangin'? And we get ta eat actually good food, not that canteen slop! Come on!"

Price sighed, shaking his head in defeat.

"Anything you make will be great, love."

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Ghost added from his seat and you snickered. He had already seen you eating your comfort foods before and, needless to say, he didn't approve of them.

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Price repeated, with a nod.

"Proteins and carbs, okay, got it." You said with a fierce nod, walking back towards the door to the older man's office. "Meet you guys at the kitchen?"

"1200, sharp." Price said, with eyes as soft as the smile under his moustache. You gave him a small salute on your way out.

"Yessir."

This will probably be a little anthology of scenes I think of, involving poly!141 x neurodivergent reader who works for them as a secretary. They might not have much continuity but I'm using this as a self-healing, self-indulgent blog, separated from my main. Expect mostly fluff and angst from me.

[louloulemons-posts]

heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷

Claws and Frills

wolverine x fem!reader

(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)

summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.

word count : 0.8k

warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.

It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.

Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.

A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.

“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.

With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.

With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”

“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”

“Logan you promised-“

“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”

He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”

He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”

“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”

Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.

“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.

“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.

“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.

“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”

Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.

“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”

“But I’ve killed.”

“And you’ve saved.”

“But-“

“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”

“Not even you?”

He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”

“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”

“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”

“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”

Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”

“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.

Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”

With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”

Logan groaned, “Again?!”

“Hush Kitty.”

And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.

I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[eevees-hobbies]

Hiya! Could I please request the wind breaker boys, bofurin & shishitoren reactions to the reader in a sexy Halloween costume at a party? (Possibly a sexy bunny girl, but any sexy costume really 💜)

Author’s Note: Anon, you’re wild for thinking about Halloween this early! But I get; I’m a spooky girlie, too. Or am I off base, and Halloween is just an excuse to dress like a bunny girl? Anyway, I enjoyed writing this! I might do a part 2 with more characters as we get closer to Halloween. Here are some reactions and scenarios to your costume!

Content Warning: Um, tis smutty. Thigh-fucking, making out, groping in public, sex in a residence that isn’t yours, nipple licking, mention of face-fucking, jealousy, cumshot, public humiliation, masturbation. 

Word Count: 2.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Haruka Sakura

You swore you told Sakura what you planned to wear at the Halloween party. Maybe you were a little non-descriptive when you said you were going to wear a bunny outfit, leaving out the fact that the neckline dipped so low that there was a potential of your breasts falling out of the top or how your “bottoms” consisted of only thigh high fishnet stockings.

When Sakura saw you from across the party, he stopped mid-conversation with Suo, who followed Sakura’s line of sight and let out a whistle when he saw you.

“Wow, Sakura. I had no idea you were so secure in your relationship that you’d let Y/N wear something so revealing. I don’t think I–oh,” Suo couldn’t finish his sentence because Sakura was shoving people in the crowd just to get to you. 

As Suo watched his friend part a sea of people with his palms to their faces, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Maybe I instigated that a little.”

As you raise your hand to give a friend a wave, Sakura grips your wrist and pulls you into the nearest room. Your eyes can barely adjust to the darkness, but based on the smell of oil and what you believe to be an outline of the roof of a car, you realize that you’re in the homeowner's garage. The sound of the door locking echoes ominously behind you. If this were any other situation, you’d probably scream, but somewhere in the darkness is Sakura, and there’s nothing to worry about, right?

You reach out in an attempt to touch him–hoping to grab a hand or bicep–but you only feel a firm grip on your shoulders and being turned around, forcibly bent over with your face against the hood of the car.

“Why’d you have to wear something so fucking slutty?”

“W-wha?! Sakura?!” you try to move from underneath him, but his hand against your lower back is unwavering. You hear the sound of pants unzipping, “Kitten, there’s no way you're going to be able to put your dick in me. This thing is so tight against my crotch–”

“Who said I want your pussy,” he grumbles. You hear him spit into his palm before he places two thumbs against the exposed flesh of your thighs and spreads them. Sakura’s body tenses up as he slips his dick in between your inner thighs, his head practically swimming at how warm and soft they are.

You can’t help but place a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh as your boyfriend ruts against your thighs, and you would have kept laughing if not for the feeling of his cock rubbing against the crotch of your outfit. The friction against your clit has you biting your lip and bouncing back against him because fuck, maybe he’s onto something?

Ren Kaji

“What are you supposed to be?” Kotoha asks you as she tilts her head, eyes sweeping over your not-so-halloween outfit. You’re wearing a gray hoodie, black skinny jeans, and your boyfriend's Bofurin jacket. Your hand reaches up instinctively to touch the headphones around your neck–a sudden habit you’ve developed during the night to make sure they're still snug and in place.

“I’m dressed as Ren. Can’t you tell?”

You had been wearing a bunny outfit earlier that night, but as you exited the bathroom in your home and did a twirl for Kaji, ears flopping up and down as you bounced, you quickly realized that you might need to consider a new outfit.

Kaji looked over you with unbridled lust and a hint of jealousy pooling in his eyes. He can mentally see how his friends will drink you in tonight. The idea of them lusting after you, thinking about fucking you, and even touching themselves to the thought of you has the sucker in his mouth breaking against clenched teeth.

He can see Tsugeura pretending to squeeze past you by putting his large, muscly hands on your curvy hips, his crotch so close to your ass you’d feel the bulge rubbing against your exposed cheeks. 

He can see Kiryu sweetly asking to take a picture of your outfit, placing an arm around your shoulders, a hand leisurely placed in between the valley of your breasts, a finger brushing against the spot in your outfit where he knows your nipple is straining against the fabric.

“Give us a pretty smile for the gram, sweetie!” That very picture no doubt being used for nefarious activities that night. 

“No.”

You wrap your arms across your chest, fully intending to stand your ground, “No?” You let out a breathy laugh but pause when his mouth doesn’t give way to a smile. 

“Absolutely not. Go change.” His voice is smooth, as if there’s no room for argument, and with Kaji, there really isn’t.

He was serious! 

“I don’t understand?”

“Let me show you what my friends will fantasize about doing to you when they see you dressed like that. Get on your knees.” 

You bite your lip, briefly considering disobeying, but when Kaji gives an order, you better listen, or else you’ll end up with a sore ass. Without breaking eye contact–though your heart is stuttering in your chest–you do what a smart girl does and get on your knees for your boyfriend.

And Kaji didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when he slipped his dick past your pretty lips and rested heavily on your eager tongue. 

He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when his dick was so far down your throat that drool was dripping down and landing on your splayed-out thighs below you, splattering against the opening in your fishnets. 

He certainly didn’t feel remorse when he gritted his teeth as his balls clenched violently, and he pulled your head back by those silly bunny ears and came on your chest and, in extension, your Halloween costume–effectively ruining it.

You gave him an earful for how petty and ridiculous he was, but he simply put a sucker in his mouth and stared at you with a glint of humor behind his blue eyes, pleased with himself.

As Kotoha nods and looks your “Ren Kaji” outfit up and down, you can feel eyes boring into the back of your head. You turn and catch Kaji's gaze from across the room; unsurprisingly, he still has that same pleased look.

Jo Togame

You squirm restlessly in the lap of Togame. Since you arrived at the party, he hasn’t let you out of his sight.  

As soon as he laid emerald eyes on you, those eyes slowly appraising your body from head to toe, all his attention was on you and only you. “Do a little spin for me, beautiful?” he crooned while imitating the spinning gesture with a finger.

You were more than happy to oblige for him because good bunny girls listen! You spun around, enjoying the hungry look you were getting from him and his Shishitoren buddies.

“Yeaaaah, I need a closer look.” He points to his lap, a seat you’re all too familiar with. You must not have been moving fast enough as you approached him because he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his waiting lap.

Through the night, he continued to hold conversations with friends and sip at his bottle of ramune, all while your ass lives plastered against his crotch. As you squirm, his arm around your shoulders only pulls you in more, and he shoots you a smile.

“Hey, can you all give me a minute with my girl?”

You relish in his words as his friends shuffle off elsewhere and Togame turns his attention to you. 

“I hope you know what this costume is doing to me.”

Of course, you know what the costume is doing to him. You’ve been sitting on something long, thick, and ridiculously hard all night.

You look at him through your eyelashes and bite your lip as he places a hand on your breast in front of partygoers and kisses you, all while keeping you in his lap. It feels sinful to be so publicly obscene, and you can hear mumbles and murmurs from around you as his tongue slides into your mouth and his hand squeezes the flesh of your breast, fingers dancing over the exposed tops of them that are being pushed out of the corset.

He pulls away and tilts his head towards the door, “Wanna get out of here? I have plans for this costume.”

And you can’t put a perfectly good bunny costume to waste, can you? No, you can’t.

Hajime Umemiya

I’m sorry for all you toxic-love enthusiasts out there, but Ume is as wholesome as they come. Every Halloween, you two take immense care and consideration in picking out matching outfits. You are the epitome of #couplegoals. And after weeks of sending back-and-forth links to costumes, you finally agreed upon the perfect ones. 

Sugishita stares at the halo around Umemiya’s head and nods in complete agreement–yes, of course, he’s an angel. It fits perfectly, he thinks to himself.

“Water, Ume?” You walk up behind him, offering him a bottle of water. Umemiya is shirtless except for feathery white wings that are strapped around his chest. At the last minute, he decided to keep it simple with white pants and a black belt. You are dressed as his inverse, the angel to his devil with horns and a tail. 

You take a minute to admire his shirtless figure, broad shoulders, and freshly healed scratches from the night before, which puts a bit of a dopey smile on your face. The muscles in his strong back shift as he turns to look at you with a grin upon hearing your voice.

“Baby girl! There you are! I was just telling Sugishita that you should have been the angel since I think it fits you more.

You shake your head, smiling, “I like playing the devil. Don’t you think that’s more fitting for me, Sugishita?”

Sugishita looks between you both, nodding furiously at his favorite person’s favorite person.

And as the night draws to a close and you’re both helping the homeowner clean up after the party, you can’t help but push Umemiya into the closet, closing the door behind you.

And you might be the one who instigates the first move, but he’s the one who pushes you against the wall in return, your body sinking into the clothes on the coat rack. 

“Ume, you’ve looked like a snack all night.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind you taking a bite out of me.” he shivers as your fingers trace his nipples. He’s always been sensitive there, and you’ve always been quick to take advantage of that.

“I think we should keep these outfits for a little roleplaying, no?” Your tongue darts out and traces the curvature of his nipple, earning you a whimper and “Oh, fuck” from Ume’s lips.

He looks down at you, already making quick work of removing the red corset around your midsection. “How much time do you think we have before they realize we’re in the closet?”

You smile and kiss his jaw, “Maybe 7 minutes if we’re quiet?”

“When have I ever allowed you to be quiet?”

Fuck, he has a point.

Hayato Suo

You had no idea what you were planning to wear to the costume party, so when Suo offered to help you find an outfit, you happily accepted.

You’re a glutton for punishment, I suppose.

Suo knew precisely what he was doing. With the deliberate actions of a sociopath, Suo ordered your costume early but chose not to say anything to you. It wasn’t until you glanced at the calendar that your eyes widened at the encroaching date circled in red marker. 

“Suo! I still don’t have a costume, and the party is in two days!”

“Ooh,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I told you I’d handle everything. I already have something picked out specifically for you.”

You were overtaken with relief. Suo always had a plan; you knew he wouldn’t disappoint you. At least that’s how you felt before he brought out the most revealing bunny costume you’d ever seen.

And to be honest, you weren't even sure they sold this version of the costume in regular stores. But what were you going to do? The party was in two days, and if you wanted to go shopping for a costume, you’d have no option but to pick from the leftovers, and you’d end up dressed like the Kool-Aid man. No, thank you!

You took the costume, eyes drilling into the most revealing of spots. “What’s your costume, Suo?”

“I don’t do costumes, but if anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m your handler, sweet bunny girl.”

Two days quickly come and go, and as you enter the party with Suo walking so close behind you, you can feel the heat from his body on your exposed back; eyes stop and stare at you, and Suo drinks every interaction in as though he’s using it as foreplay until he can finally get you alone and underneath him. 

For now, he watches in delight as you make all of his friends so uncomfortable with your jiggly thighs, bouncy ass, and flushed cheeks.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

hi sweetie! <3 i was wondering if i can request some fluff (maybe with a smut in the end it’s up to you) with ghost and innocent!girly!reader where ghost got all overprotective over her when some guy is harassing her and she got really scared and anxious? feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like writing this! have a wonderful day, sweetheart ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

hi angel!! i hope you enjoy! <3 i didn’t add smut at the end it kinda got more serious i hope that’s okay!!! <33

(sorry if this is bad i wrote it in class KANDK)

(unmasked! ghost)

(this is kinda an au! type of thing so most everything is completely inaccurate to COD)

warnings: blood, slight violence, reader is shorter than ghost, reader is lifted up by ghost, innocent!reader, slightly dark!ghost, possessiveness, size difference (i pinned ghost as 6’6 hehe woops), tattooed!ghost (U WILL NEVER STOP ME)

‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

ghost has always been overprotective of you, ever since the day you two met—not just when u guys started dating.

his hands always find their place on ur body, making it known to everybody you were his and only his-and he was yours and wholly only yours.

so when u two went out with price and the rest of the team to a busy bar out in the city, ghost’s hands never once left your body.

even when u two were sat next to each other at the booth, his bulky arm stayed draped over ur shoulder, ur hand fiddling with his big tattooed one as he gave dirty looks to any man that dared to look in your direction.

everything was going smoothly until your small voice made his ears perk— “gotta go to the bathroom, be right back..”

you began to part from ghost’s grasp before he caught ur small hand in his. “do ya need me to go with ya?”

u giggled, blushing slightly. “simon, i don’t need ur help going pee!—ill be right back.”

ghost wasn’t always one for extreme PDA, but he could see the hungry looks of the men at the bar staring at you. and he didn’t like that. not one bit. before u could escape, he adjusted his grip on ur hand to on ur forearm, pulling u towards him as he kissed u possessively.

he heard ur small, surprised yelp as his soft —but bitten lips moved over yours, his tongue beginning to slip into ur silky mouth before u pulled away—face burning of shyness as soap and price looked away, a small smile playing on their lips out of amusement from ur embarrassment and ghost’s act possessiveness.

“love you.” simons gruff voice spoke; a slightly smug smirk playing on his pink lips.

“i love you too.” you spoke quietly biting ur lower lip as butterflies fluttered in ur tummy.

simon watched as u walked away, ur short skirt swaying as u stepped through the crowd.

“obsessed much?” soap chuckled, and price laughed with him.

“yes.” ghost replied shortly, taking a sip of his whiskey and setting it next to your strawberry daiquiri, cool water droplets beading off of ur drink.

three minutes passed and ghost started to feel unease settling in his gut.

turns out, his gut was right to feel that nagging way.

“stop!” through the music and loud chatter of people, he could hear your small voice shout. his heart dropped, and he immediately peeled through the crowd, his height making it easy for him to see over everyone’s head.

a thin man with blonde hair groped at ur body from outside the restroom door of the bar.

“jus-“ the man laughed sickeningly, grabbing ur breast as u tried to squirm away from him, tears streaming down your face. “stop movin’, baby, just wanna feel you.. bet ur nice and tight.” he smacked ur butt, cries escaping ur throat as u tried to gasp for simon’s name but nothing came out of your mouth as u shut ur eyes tightly. maybe this was a dream—maybe the man would go away—just maybe.

ghost’s body filled with an unimaginable amount of rage, and from the corner of the room, konig (who was drinking and leaning against a wall chatting up an older woman), confusedly looked at simon as the wall blocked his view of you.

he knew that deadly look in his friend’s eyes when he saw it.

shit.

loud thunks of simon’s combat boots pounded on the ground as he ripped the disgusting man off of you, his height towering over the man.

he could see the way you cried, eyes shut and whimpering as you choked on your sobs.

“hey!” the man shouted, right before ghost smacked his head into the wall; ghost’s fists colliding with the man’s face.

anger crawled throughout his body as he almost went on autopilot, the man’s face bloody and battered as simon repeatedly punched him.

punch, punch, punch—

“ghost!” price barked, trying to pry simon off of the man. “ he’s done, ghost. enough!”

your eyes peeled open as you cried, gasping as you saw the mess of a face of the man that assaulted you. his nose crooked as it took konig, price, soap, and gaz to pull simon off of the limp man.

the bar was quiet besides the music and ur little cries. blood splotched simon’s knuckles as he breathed heavily.

the man on the ground groaned, and simon almost broke through the grasp of his team behind him before the cloud of anger subsided when he heard your small, “s-simon.”

stepping on the man’s leg, simon’s large, bruised hands cupped your face, your eyes glossy with tears.

“cmon.” he spoke gruffly, holding you against him as you both made your way out of the bar to the back alley where it was quiet.

“i-“ you choked on a sob as ghost pulled you to him, his large frame dwarfing yours as he shushed you, kissing the top of your head.

“no one’s gonna hurt you like that again. i would’ve killed him—“ his accent was thick as his grip on you tightened. he took a deep breath.

you sniffled into his warm chest, ur arms wrapped around him tightly.

“are you okay?” he asked after a moment of listening to your small weeping cries.

you nodded. “‘m okay now, just scary ‘s all..” you hiccuped, and simon easily picked you up to be closer to you. you nestled your face into his neck, his large hand rubbing along your back.

“i should’ve been there.” he spoke quietly.

you sniffled, pulling away from his neck to look at him. “you didn’t know, ‘s okay.”

simon didn’t say anything, he just adjusted you in his grip and wiped the tears from your face gently with his calloused thumb.

you kissed his lips gently, giggling when he sucked on your lower lip tenderly.

simon’s body warmed at the sound.

he always knew immediately when he met you that he would kill for you.

and this night just proved that further.

he would do anything for you.

anything.

[stopaskinf]

“Love you just a little too much.”

Summary: Taehyung really likes you.

Genre: Yandere Taehyung, Dark? Fic

CW: Cursing, clingy behavior, overbearing Tae, description of bodily stuff, smut lowkey, Tae has sub tendencies argue with the mirror

Word Count: 0.5K

A/N: This was kinda hard to write for me. I apologize to the Tae girlies I made him insufferable😅.

Kim Taehyung is clingy.

Within him lies the purest form of anxious attachment.

A wriggling parasite who chews up solitude to shit out buzzing noise instead.

He never seems to know what’s going on, but watch his head do a 360 when he hears your name or footsteps.

He’ll follow you around the room like he’s your tail until you sit down.

Once you’re seated, he’ll invade any idea of personal space you have.

His long slender fingers will cage your shoulders as his pointed black irises will bore into you. You think the only time this man stops looking at you is when he blinks.

His cologne will seize all other scents in the room as he practically lays on you. It used to be a musky, almost spicy scent that used to follow him, but that’s changed. He offhandedly heard someone say you like “Woody, less intense” scents and now he walks around smelling vaguely of roses and sandalwood.

He’s fucking smothering.

He would sit on your lap and fully cage you within his long limbs if he could. You’d carry him around like a human backpack.

Or, if he feels more salacious, he imagines sitting on your lap and humping your thigh or shoes. You always said he acted like a loyal dog around you. He’d be more than happy to prove you right. He would prefer your genitals, but he needs to take what he can get.

God forbid he can’t be in your presence. When you leave, there lies a man so abhorrent in body and soul.

God forbid you give him any way to contact you to avoid the dread he brings upon his members.

I miss you.💜

Come over. Yeotan wants to see you.

Why aren’t you answering? Don’t you like me?

Good Morning, did you sleep in? You’d usually be awake by now. 💜

Can you lend me a hoodie? No, I didn’t forget mine, I just miss your scent. 💜

I think I like you too much. Do you like me?

I had a dream about you last night. Do you ever dream about me?

I wish you slept over. The bed feels empty when you’re not here. The night is overwhelming.

Answering back almost seems like a losing game. Every text or call you try to answer increases within a second. Him in person is almost preferable. At least in person, you can leave his home and feel a sense of freedom. Of reminding yourself that you are one person, instead of the forced conjoined monster that Tae has made you both into.

You can sense that Tae hates it when you leave, but he’ll at least pretend to be reasonable. If you squeeze too tight, eventually it’ll burst.

Still, in those late nights laying in bed alone, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

What if you two were closer?

The idea of you two fusing, your pupils doubling and your irises splitting. Yours and his thoughts ringing in your shared mind, forever drowning in noise until they surely meld together.

God, he needs that.

He’ll try and subtly slip it into conversation tomorrow.

You wouldn’t mind, would you?

[the-marshals-wife]

New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.

Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468

Edit: here's my Orm Marius x Reader fic for my fellow Orm girlies ;)

Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline

Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity

Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.

"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"

Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.

"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.

You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.

"Wonderful," you groan.

Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.

"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.

You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.

Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.

"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."

"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.

"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."

He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."

"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.

He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."

You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.

"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."

"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."

"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."

"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.

"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."

"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."

The man finally stands up and winces.

"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."

"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."

"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."

"Nice to meet you too."

Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.

Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.

Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.

"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"

He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.

"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."

"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."

"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.

"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.

Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.

"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."

You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."

"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."

You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.

"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.

Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.

"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.

Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."

"I might have to hear that for myself."

"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."

Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.

"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.

"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.

"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."

He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.

You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.

"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."

With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.

"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.

"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.

"Alright then," he says, turning the key.

Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.

With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.

♆

The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.

The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.

Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.

"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.

"Power's out. Awesome."

Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.

"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.

"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."

You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.

The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.

"You...you're..." you stammer.

"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."

"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.

"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.

You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"

"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."

"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.

"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."

You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."

"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."

"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."

As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.

♆

A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.

Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.

"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."

"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.

You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.

"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.

"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.

"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."

"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"

"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"

"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.

"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."

"And you're the ruler over all of them?"

He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have to answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."

You giggle, hanging on every his every word.

"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."

"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.

"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.

A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.

"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.

"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."

Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.

Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."

You blink, letting him go on.

"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."

His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."

"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."

"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."

"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."

He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"

"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.

"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."

"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."

"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."

"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."

"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."

You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"

"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."

You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"

He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?

"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.

He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."

Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.

As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.

[fookingmuffins]

Say something babe pt2

James Potter x reader

Angst

Warnings: cheating, yelling, James being a dick and few curse words I think? (Also y/n being a big dummy for a sec but it happens)

A/n: here's part two! I hope you guys enjoy it this one is longer than the last since some of it was technically part of part one but I moved it. This part made me really hate James so I have some regrets but oh well I promise to write fluffier fics eventually. There's gonna be part 3 of James groveling but for now it's just this I'm sorry. :(

It was your last day home after spring break, you had spent your week in your bed in the dark having restless sleep to avoid the reality of your situation, but it seemed even your Dreams were haunted, and you knew your mum was worried. You had written to Penny and your other friends, who had been worried about your sudden departure without saying goodbye. Penny had thankfully not told anyone anything about what you two heard that last night. James had surprisingly also sent you a few letters,5 to be exact, but you couldn't get yourself to open them, any time you tried nausea overtook your body at the thought of the words he said about you.

You were dreading the thought of returning and facing everything. You thought about continuing everything as if you had never heard that conversation and try to enjoy however long you had with James, you had even thought of excuses as to why you left and didn't reply to his letters, but you knew you deserved better. You needed to confront James, and maybe he would apologize and reassure you it was all some big misunderstanding, you probably would believe him if he did.

.......♡☆♡........

As soon as you stepped on the train platform, you heard a set of heavy steps approaching you, but before you could turn around, a big set of arms enveloped you. "Can't... breathe..." you gasped out and patted Finn's back, and he immediately let you go to see Penny, Rowan, and Wren were there too, each giving you a gentler hug than Finn.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just so worried, and I missed you so much, it's been ages!"

"Sure has felt like it but come on, let's find a cabin before the good ones are taken." You placed your hand on Finn's arm and started guiding your friend group to the train. You knew that you were probably going to get interrogated by everyone, but you could at least push it back a few minutes.

Once your group found a cabin you sat down by the window and Wren immediately shut the door, and you knew even if you tried there was no stopping this. "Okay girly you better start talking about whatever it's going on because that letter saying something came up at home, and you had to go earlier is bullshit cause something is always going on at your house and that is exactly why you hate being there. So now talk and tell me who I need to jinx with Finny here for doing something to you."

You looked at Penny for some help, but she just gave you a soft smile, encouraging you to tell your friends the truth. But you were terrified of them hating James, in case it was just a misunderstanding.

"James and I just had a bit of an argument, no big deal, I promise we are fine. I'm fine." Penny rolled her eyes at your words, but thankfully no one saw her, and she did help you change the topic. But you knew none of your friends believed you, even Finn who was sometimes a bit clueless could tell you lied and for the rest of the train ride they gave you worried looks.

.......♡☆♡........

After the long train ride, you went to freshen up in your dorm (and mentally prepare yourself to face James) assuring your friends you would meet them at the great hall. But just when you made a turn, you felt someone pull you into an empty classroom. Just when you were about to scream you felt a pair of lips you knew all too well pressed onto yours and for a moment you forgot about all the pain that you had felt over the past week.

When James pulled back and searched your face his eyes brought back the words you had heard, the words that came out of the lips you had just kissed, and immediately all the pain and nausea returned.

"I was so worried about you baby, you left without even saying goodbye, and we were supposed to go to that party together, and then you wouldn't reply to any of my letters and your friends didn't know anything either." You usually thought his ranting was adorable, especially when he looked like he did right now with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes looking at you with what you used to think was sincerity, but now that stupid look in his eyes just felt like a dagger onto your heart twisting with each word that left his lips.

You pushed his hands on your cheeks away and took a step away which made him frown, but before he could say anything you blurted "I heard your conversation with Castor in the Gryffindor common room!" Which made him frown more until a look of realization crossed his face and his eyes widened.

"W-what conversation...? H-how did you even get into the Gryffindor common room?" He tried to deflect, which made your heart sink and tears well up in your eyes.

"The one where you mentioned I was so annoying and clingy and offered me to Castor, so you could have some alone time with Lily!" He was refusing to look you in the eyes anymore, which was making all that sadness you once felt turn into bitter anger.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about you are overreacting right now Castor and I don't really talk plus y-you were complaining about him that one-"

"James!"

"Okay! Fine! I did tell Castor all that, but you know what? You're just proving that you ARE clingy. I mean, why do you have to listen to MY private conversations, huh? And again, what were you doing in the Gryffindor common room? And you're also proving how dramatic and psychotic you are by making this big show about something I said to my friend privately!" By this point, you couldn't hold back your tears as James spit the words that had kept you restless the past week with so much venom, and his once gentle eyes turned into those of a crazed man.

"And what about Lily!?" You managed to scream back, but it came out so broken that even James' eyes momentarily softened, or maybe it was just because you mentioned the girl he actually loved.

"What about her?" He stepped closer, eyes hardening again, glaring at you in a way that killed you. "Are you seriously jealous of her? Merlin y/n! Am I not allowed to have friends? I never tell you anything when you hang out with Rowan and Finn."

"I've never been jealous because I trusted YOU! B-but I heard-"

"Heard something completely out of context! Look babe, I love you okay! That night at the party I just wanted to play some drinking games with Lily cause I know you don't like drinking! I would never cheat on you, okay? I know how you feel about it because of your dad and I wouldn't do it to you, promise" You wanted to scream deep down you knew this was all lies, but you wanted to believe him so badly. Just when you had made up your mind, you felt James wrap his arms around you, and you couldn't help but cry harder. You just felt so small and broken and as if his arms were the only thing holding you together.

"I'm so sorry for overreacting. I-I don't know what happened, I-I…" James took my face into his hands again and gently kissed my lips.

.......♡☆♡........

After you and James cleared things up, things had been a little tense between you and Penny, who berated you for an hour and then ignored you until the next day cause she couldn't stay mad at you. And even though with James things were seemingly back to normal you still felt yourself walking on eggshells around him and stopped missing classes and club meetings, like you usually did in favor of meeting him, so he wouldn't feel like you were clingy. Despite all of it, you still felt something was missing, like the life had been drained out of you. But that only made you feel worse, since you had everything you could possibly want, and suddenly you weren't satisfied. Now when James was by your side you often felt numb even when you would hang out with the other marauders who usually made you laugh you felt like you were laughing out of a pure reaction but not feeling any joy.

It had been 3 weeks since your argument, and you were running late to Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, where you had made a last-minute arrangement with your friend group to celebrate your friend Luna's birthday. You usually didn't come to Hogsmeade in the middle of the week, too busy with the many activities you were part of plus assignments as it was your last year at Hogwarts. But you and Luna had been friends since second year when she had gotten sick around the same time you fell off your broom and both of you spent your days at the infirmary chatting away. You helped her usually shy, and reserved self become more open and make more friends.

When you finally arrived at the tea shop, you spotted a curly mop of hair that you recognized as James leaning in to kiss Lily. The chatter you were having among your friends completely stopped, and you felt your world come crashing down, there was no denying anymore. James Potter was the biggest cheater ever, and you were the biggest fool for trusting him. You contemplated going to confront him right then and there, but you didn't want to ruin Luna's party, so you made your way back to Hogwarts and would confront him when he got back to his dorm. All throughout your walk back, you kept cursing him and yourself for being so naive.

.......♡☆♡........

By the time James made it back to his dorm it was 7:45 you had long made yourself comfortable after kicking out the other marauders.

"Baby! What are you doing here? I told you it was best to not come after the whole misunderstanding from last time" Unsurprisingly, James was shocked to see you there, but he quickly disguised it and tried to lean in to kiss you, but you just turned your face, so he just kissed your cheek which made him frown. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know, James, you tell me. How was your little date with Lily?" To that his eyes widened and if you weren't seething right now you probably would have found it comical.

"Merlin y/n this again?! I've told you there's nothing going on between me and Lily! You're so-"

"I saw the two of you kiss at Madam Puddifoot's." You said matter of fact, interrupting whatever argument he was gonna use to call you delusional.

"I swear it wasn't what it looked like! She's the one who kissed me! She's been obsessing over me ever since we got together. She's an insane babe." That was true, unfortunately, James had never told you about Lily wanting him back after seeing him with you, and it's not like he tried to stop her, in fact, James had very much encouraged her. He loved the thrill of being with her behind your back, you had been so close to finding out about them so many times. And after the last time he had been so cocky about being able to convince you he was loyal, bragging to everyone in Gryffindor. But you didn't know any of that.

"Oh really, just like I'm so obsessed with you that I don't let you breathe? Look I don't care anymore I'm done playing the fool. If I'm even here, it's just for formalities because we are done, Potter." You said, as you got up from his bed, and made your way to the door.

"Are you seriously breaking up with me right now?" You didn't bother answering as you opened the door and stepped out. Making a vow to never anyone hurt you like that again and refusing to ever look back.

Part 3

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 4.1 - Dating for Weirdos

ALICE

Alice agreed to meet Vlad at the library because she had a class nearby, and for once in her natural life, she wanted to be on time. Plus, she needed the extra fifteen minutes to give herself a completely normal, very-relaxed pep talk about not farting.

Or saying something nuts.

Or doing anything that would screw up the first date she’s had the courage to make since she broke up with Jeffery. 

Fuck, why did her mom have to call and ask a million questions about her flight home for fall break? It's not her fault that she forgot to buy the tickets two weeks ago before the price went up.

…okay, it was kind of her fault, but her mother freaking out because Alice planned to ask her dad for help was not. If there was one thing Cyrus Martin did well, it was to give Alice money. 

Ugh, she needed to stop thinking about marriages ending in divorce. She needed to stop thinking about marriage. She needed to stop—

“Alice?”

Shit. She whirls around to find Vlad standing by the bike rack.

“I’m Vladislaus,” he says as if she hadn’t seen his picture and wouldn’t know those cheekbones any-fucking place.

He’s tall and angular, with a deeply off-putting aura that makes her want to curl up beside him. Alice has always been a glutton for punishment, and no amount of lecturing herself to stay away from dangerous things has worked. 

“We arranged a date,” he continues, “I’ve spent the past week or so disabusing you of your wretched Tea & Treachery opinions. You think I’m pretentious, and my theories are shit, but you still agreed to meet.”

Holy Mother Watcher. Vlad writes like a Simlish Literature Textbook and talks like one too—crisp and precise, an odd combination of casual and antiquated, catnip for an audio girly like her.

“I promise I’m chill,” Alice blurts out, even though she is not. Chill is like a country in SimNation she’s never been to because she doesn’t have a passport. 

“Er…I-I mean, I just knew if I went back to my dorm after class, something catastrophic would happen, and I’d never make it on time.”

Vlad tilts his head, intrigued. “What kind of catastrophe?”

“The worst kind,” she replies with mock seriousness. “Llama attack, building fire, walking past my laptop, and then remembering the video I was watching earlier.”

His gaze shifts to the library's entrance. He looks distracted.

Fuck. That went south.

Suddenly, his attention snaps back, and he grins. “So many potential dangers. It’s a wonder you arrived at all.”

“I’m smart,” she replies, hiding her relief, “Resourceful. Faultless.”

“I see,” he chuckles, “Now, should we mark you safe from this catastrophe on Social Bunny, or do you want to keep your survival a secret?”

His laugh is like a prize Alice wants to win again. If he’s laughing, then he’s happy, and she’s not completely screwing this up. “Let’s keep this between you and me for now. Who knows how many of my enemies have also survived?”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Vlad agrees. “Who’s on your list?” His eyes glitter with something that looks like excitement. 

But that doesn’t make sense. It’s a joke. It has to be. 

“No one, really,” she lies, ignoring the dark part of her that wants to give him a name, “I was just being silly. Should we head out?”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 1 of 4)

If you prefer the long-form version of this chapter. You can read it here on my WordPress.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Reader

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

Part One of Two (Possibly Three Part short story).

EDIT* I went back and proofread this again and fixed errors. I didn't realize I posted this in such a crummy state before, I'm sorry!

TW//: Blood, Violence

Angst, Drama, Action, Romance, Near Death Experiences, Confessions, slightly Dark, some Fluffy Dialogue (not a ton though), Tension, slight Suspense, slight Slow Burn, For the girlies who like when their romantic moments feel a little teased and earned, Though this might still be boring garbage, plus the real stuff doesn't start 'til part two. The "developing feelings through almost dying in front of each other" trope, my favorite trope lowkey

This was not the smut piece I have been planning to write for Price (That's still coming), I wanted to practice writing him a little and this sprung on me after playing MW 2019. Figured I'd post it, though this is just to indulge my growing obsession with this man. Let me know if he's OOC, I want to write him well! Enjoy!

Part Two | Part Three

Price's voice suddenly shouts out from the living room, frantic and wired...

"Ambush! Get behind cover!"

...However, his warnings are drowned out by the whistling of an RPG heading straight for your location. It cuts through the evening sky, coming to you as a black dot zipping by at the blink of an eye.

The rocket breaks through the window of the house you and Price had been tasked to raid for intel, as the explosion goes off against one of the walls behind you. The sound which follows is unlike any you've ever heard the likes of before. A piercing, defeaning pop; the loudest and most unpleasant thing imaginable.

The sharp, crashing boom it erupts around you is hot like fire, singing your uniform and blasting you forward. It's the last thing you remember, before being greeted into a world of swirling blacks and oranges. In pain and completely immobile. Momentarily knocked unconscious.

You're not so sure how much time passes before you come to again. Only a handful of minutes or so. Though in that span, you've listened to the sounds of growing gunfire and shouting rise like a terrifying mob outside. Coming in and out in hot flashes.

Had your Captain's shouting not broken through this foggy barrier, you would have thought you'd have just died. You wouldn't be so lucky.

"Lieutenant!" you hear him call out. His voice grows more desperate the longer he hasn't heard from you. "I'm comin'!"

As the dust began to settle, you felt yourself coming back. You groan in pain, your entire body sore from the blast. Brick and stone rubble surround you like a straightjacket. You're pretty sure the entire roof of the house had fallen on top of you just now. Beneath it all, it was hard to tell for certain.

As you lie trapped, waiting to be rescued, you couldn't help but think about the mission. You and Price should have known this was some sort of setup.

Even Laswell had doubts this lead on Makarov wasn't just some trap to lure out their rivals and take them out, but with this recent dry spell on the investigation, your team couldn't afford to pass up the chance at some potentially valuable leads. It's why Laswell kept the team small, sending only you two on this one.

An easy enough operation: infiltrate the building, gather the intel, and get out. Nothing new. Only all you've found in this rinky-dink building on the outskirts of Urzikstan was a handful of AQ remnants and their new Russian PMC allies. And they knew you two were coming too.

The marked house was empty, both of any life and intel. And not even a second later were they all on top of your location, every inch of this town and the hills that surrounded it dug in with hostiles.

You'd have to ask Price later how it was he was able to push back that hoard alone, if you can make it out of this. There's no telling what they'd do to you both if they caught you in here, and that's if they even take you in alive.

You feel bits of rubble being shifted off your body, immense amounts of pressure releasing upon their departure. It's quickly replaced by the sharp bruising and pain it's left in its wake beneath your uniform.

"I'm right here," you hear Price's voice try to soothe you from up above, that gruff Liverpool accent of his clear enough even through the strain and stress. He hasn't let you down a day since you've known him. He wasn't about to make today his first.

Another large bit of rubble gets removed, taking the darkness away and flooding light down from above.

You could have sworn you were looking at an angel when you finally made out the silhouette of the man rescuing you. Your Captain. John Price.

"I've got you," Price assures you, his words felt wracked with adrenaline, hands moving near on impulse.

His hat was gone, short brown hair in a light tussle, and dust and light soot coating the black of his uniform and scruff of his beard. It almost worried you not to see him in it; he never parts from that thing. Perhaps during the blast it had gotten caught in the crossfires and rendered unwearable.

For some reason, it only made the situation feel much more worse than you originally thought.

His blue eyes find yours beneath the rubble, and you watch all the dread he'd been juggling with subside into relief the second he hears you cough out all the dust and wall you'd inhaled, struggling to catch your breath. He sighs to himself with a smile.

He doesn't even hear the words when he says them. Price only says the first thing that came to mind the minute you've finally stopped coughing to see him again.

"Thank fuckin' Christ."

Once Price saw you weren't dead, he finished removing the rubble from off of you. It's the bit he removes from your right arm that finally pulls a pained cry out of you. It's so intense it's as though reality just now set back in for you.

Your entire right arm felt numb from the elbow down, your fingers no longer feeling attached to your body. Had you not held your breath and sucked up the courage to look (with your peripherals first), you would have thought you'd lost your arm in the explosion.

Though it didn't make it any less broken and fucked. Nor did it make it any easier to not become fearful of what this could mean for you.

The Captain immediately notices the condition of your arm once he's cleared the debris off you. Cursing under his breath, Price helps you to your feet, brushing as much dirt from you as he can.

"You broken?" he asks. "Apart from the arm?"

You feel for what weapons still remained attached to your body after the blast, finding just a slender knife and your holstered pistol. Only two clips though. Of course.

Your arm and entire backside ached something fierce, and your brain felt as though it had been rattled inside your head and then some. If you shut your eyes now, you feared fainting dead away, and the ringing in your ears has yet to subside.

But your current state would have to do. It's that or die here. You knew that, and Price knew that too.

"I'm still here, Captain."

Price smiles, his gaze softening for just the slightest second. Happy to see his training and advice being taken seriously.

It just now was beginning to dawn on him that you hadn't died in here with him either. Seeing you OK and still ready to fight felt fuel enough for the Captain to keep going.

"That you are," he says.

Price parts from you to take post back by the freshly made hole in the wall, readying his rifle. Most of the building had collapsed in on itself, with the exception of the back of the house still being mostly intact.

Outside you could see the mountain of bodies Price had no doubt created while you were buried. None made it too close to where your position was.

With the coast temporarily clear, the current objective at hand remained the same: Get to the Evac Zone stat and get the hell out of dodge.

"This building's gonna be surrounded by Russians and AQ in less than a minute if we don't bug out now," Price warns. "And there'll be more where that came from, so ready yourself for a fight."

"Price..."

The Captain looks back at you, hearing the sudden dread in your voice. It takes him having to have stepped away from you to finally see that something really was up.

Your eyes look down to his waist, where you see the blood beginning to pool at his hip, staining his clothing and growing larger by the minute. It's clear he'd used what he could to try and wrap it, though it hadn't been enough. The adrenaline must have taken his mind away from it.

It figures you weren't the only one who got wounded here.

You look back up at Price, worried. Quiet.

Price looks down at his wound, placing a hand against it and seeing the warm, wet liquid coat his tattered glove. Whether it be a front or really only a flesh wound, Price doesn't dare break composure in front of you. You both would need him clearheaded.

"It's nothin' fatal," he simply tells you.

You knew Price wouldn't make a big deal about his injury, even if it were serious, which you honestly could not tell from where you were standing. You also knew Price wouldn't want you to worry about it either. He never liked when you worried for him; that's his job.

The time dwindled all the same; you can worry about it when you both get home.

You look to Price with contentment. You wouldn't be another reason for his worries if you could help it. "It'll make a good story for the boys later."

Price smiles back at you. "You'll tell it better than me, I'm sure."

The growing sound of men shouting and vehicles rushing to flank your position makes your blood run cold. If you didn't leave soon, neither of you would make it out of this to tell your stories.

You try and get that adrenaline you felt before to spike back up, knowing this was a matter of life and death now. Though your body betrayed you.

Your heart won't stop racing, no matter how much you try and calm yourself. Your hands keep shaking, and you can't help but keep checking the recently blasted hole behind you and your Captain. Soon to be flooded with enemies. Afraid.

Price must have noticed your worrying, because he steps away from his position and does something completely outside of himself suddenly. Though as he did so, it couldn't have felt more natural of a thing to do. Like a gesture he's spent his whole life waiting to give you.

He rests his hand gently on your cheek, bringing your eyes forward so you could see nothing beyond his own gaze. This close, even as night falls over the town and darkness shrouds the remains of this little house, this felt the clearest you've ever looked upon your Captain.

There's a glint of determination in his eyes, all the years of experiences that have worn and torn him the older he has gotten, defining the finer parts of his features. His expression always softened at the sight of you, an act you alone pulled from him for the first time truly, now.

Price was here with you. At that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

"Hey," his thumb caresses your cheek, his jaw clenching to keep from wincing at the pain in his abdomen. "We're alive. Let's keep it that way, yeah? I'm not leavin' here without you."

His jaw tenses once more and you think for a second he might say something else. But he holds his tongue, wanting the most for you to keep calm beside him.

You can feel it in the air around him; the captain's as bugged out as you are right now. He was just doing everything he could to keep being a leader and bottle it up, channeling those fears and turning them into fuel to keep going. His words may be more for himself, than you, but they're true enough.

You lift your good hand up and let it rest over his, feeling his hand stiffen at first, but then find its home against your palm. You didn't want to have to let go, but you knew you must eventually. So you nod. "Damn right, you're not."

Price chuckles, happy to see you on the same page. "Fuckin' A, love," he quickly quips. "Now let's move."

The rocky hills stretched further out ahead of you. At some point their edges seem to blend with the black of the sky, all the stars gone away someplace. Luck would see a full moon above your heads, providing the only bit of light on this makeshift route to the Evac Zone.

You have Price's arm over your left shoulder now, having to help him the rest of the way since you've escaped the base. No amount of tough guy act the Captain put on could prevent the amount of blood he'd been losing. Had he not started tumbling over mid-shootout suddenly, you wouldn't have even known. And you wanted to kill him yourself once you did too.

It's nothin' fatal, he had said. The lie of the fucking century, right?

By now his dark blood has practically stained the entire lower right side of his body, making his skin pale and his eyelids heavy. His movements slowed, his reflexes taking a severe hit because of it, and he was beginning to breathe heavier. You've gone through all your supplies trying to stop his bleeding before leaving the house. Nothing worked.

It had been infuriating, just as it'd been scary to realize that your Captain really did need a medic right now. If he didn't see a doctor soon, he might just bleed to death before you've made it out of here.

Of course, having to help him now meant you couldn't shoot at all, given the state of your other arm. Price helped with what he could, but even a man of his talents couldn't prevent shaky shots from increasing blood loss.

"Nikolai's not far out now," Price grunted out, doing his best to put one more clip into his pistol. The last one. "Should be a few more clicks along this trail."

"He couldn't fly a little closer," you huff out, readjusting your hold on the Captain. He wasn't a light man, and while he did everything in his power to make this easier for you, his weakening state only grew harder to carry.

"You holdin' up alright?" Price asks. You feel him once again, ready himself to try and pull away and stand on his own feet. Having to rely on you was eating away at him, you could tell.

"I'm fine," you tell him, though that's not all the way true. Your vision had started to blur, and your lungs felt on fire. Now that some time has passed, all your once numb injuries were suddenly starting to scream at you for relief. Had you not been concentrating on your steps in front of you, or the thumping of your heart inside your ringing ears, you would have fainted already.

But you were all Price had right now; there was no way you'd fail him when he needed you most. "I'm more worried about you, Captain."

"Still got my wits about me..." he says. "Maybe a little lighter now, given I've been leakin' like a faucet."

"I'd beg to differ."

"Eh, you can use the exercise, lieutenant."

"Or you can lose the weight, Captain."

You both chuckle, and for a second, it felt easier to pretend you both were somewhere else right now. Spending all the time together you only wish you had before.

The levity was needed. It kept you both sane and human, and right now, Price was kicking himself in the ass for not appreciating these moments with you sooner.

The team really lucked out when they recruited you, he saw that now. You've always made sure you were someone Price could trust. That you were someone he could depend on you. You kept a cool head and you did what you must, while staying both good-natured and sweet, despite everything.

And when everything was said and done, you came back to him, keeping a smile as neutral as his own could manage. Your eyes bright like stars with him in your sights. His would often do the same.

All the times you've been at his side before tonight, keeping his head on straight when he needed it most, and always reminding him of life outside of all of this, they've only increased over the years. In every moment it always felt as though you two only teetered at the next level of your fondness for one another. Both wanting to push further, but not wanting to push the other too quickly either.

Your roles on the team always came first; they seemed to be the most important thing at the time.

Every lingering touch, a longing gaze brought by excitement and recognition, a check-in during work, or a brief moment of conversation... that's where your relationship has stayed for years now. You both felt OK with that. You thought so at first.

However, Price knew one thing. He couldn't lose you tonight. He wouldn't. Not on his account. Not when there's so much more that can still be. John's lived long enough to know that when something feels this right, there is no time to waste, lest he lose that chance forever like he has with so many others before.

You feel Price grow slack against your side now, his blood starting to soak through your uniform. It took everything in you not to panic.

"I won't let you fall," you assure him now, adjusting him against you. "Just keep holding on."

The smell of blood is so strong, you'll never forget its scent long after you've left this place. Nor would you forget seeing your Captain this way. Hurt and broken. You know he's no stranger to it, but alas, John is still human.

"...I'm taking you out for dinner after this," Price up and says suddenly. He figures he should just throw that out there, in case he didn't get another chance to. "My treat."

You nearly trip when you hear him, as if you're heart needed any more of a reason to fluctuate. You lost count of how long you've waited to hear him say that, having spent so many nights daydreaming about a time he'd come up to you and actually asked you out. It felt like everything you imagined it would; if only it had been under better circumstances.

"Is that a promise, Captain?"

"You know I wouldn't bluff about that, love."

"Well, then you better keep it then, John."

"As you wish."

He could hardly understand how it was you were still able to push through all that growing pain in your body after taking such a blast. He couldn't be more proud of it either.

The town illuminated like a glowing city behind you, AQ and Russians creating an uproar there, regardless of your presence. It was no longer your problem, however. The approaching convoy heading your direction was.

You weren't out of the fire just yet.

You look around yourselves, only having a few large rocks and boulders to hide behind in your immediate vicinity. Little word is needed to be shared between you two before the plan was nonverbally green-lit.

You both take cover behind a large rock facing the hills, Price resting down against the rock as you took out your pistol. It was time to see if your shooting with your left hand has improved any more than it did a few minutes ago during your escape.

You peak over the stone, seeing four AQ soldiers step out with rifles and flashlights, already hot on your pursuit. Tracking the trail of blood you'd left behind. Price peaks around the other side of the rock, raising his pistol.

"You take the two on the right," he whispers. "I got left."

You nod, and then take position. Price takes the first shot, dropping both his targets with swift precision. Even wounded, the man always had a way with pistols. Forever the dead-eye shot.

You drop one AQ soldier, happy to see your aim improve. However, your heart sinks when you go to shoot the other soldier and you hear the click of your pistol suddenly. Out of ammo.

The AQ soldier fires at you, the bullet just grazing by your cheek, before another hits you straight at the center of your chest, rattling your sternum and knocking you off your feet. Without your bulletproof vest, that bullet would have torn straight through you. Though you might as well have died, with the pain it sent through you instead. Knocking the wind out of you.

Before you know it, Price has reached over and started pulling you back behind the boulder. "Hold on!" he says. "You're not dead yet."

Price goes to try and get to his knees and peek over the boulder, however, now that he's sat back behind the rock again with you, it's become an impossible task to even wiggle his feet at this point. Like his legs were losing feeling. The blood loss really was starting to catch up to him now, it seems.

So instead, Price did the next best thing, simply waiting for the AQ soldier to round the corner, which he stupidly does. The minute the enemy's head peaks over, Price shot twice for good measure, watching the man drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

"I think we're clear," he says. "Still breathing?"

"Yeah," you gasp out.

A lot of times, you're not sure if you'd make it through a lot of these missions if Price wasn't here. The true backbone of the 141. The man always just seemed to be prepared for anything, even with the odds stacked against him. Often feeling like some other worldly being on the field, unable to be truly harmed by the threats he faced.

Until now, you couldn't even picture him so hurt.

When Price went on a mission, you could trust he'd get it done, if no one else. And you could always trust he'd make it back too. One way or another. Of course, he wasn't always lucky, as rare as those days actually came. Luck seemed to only be a recent thing for him in fact, and of short supply tonight.

You push yourself up, rubbing your hand over your chest in an attempt to soothe the throbbing. You're unsure what bad juju you yourself had crossed, or why lady luck seemed on your side even despite it all, but maybe fate wanted you to make it out of here.

One of you at least.

You look over at Price and see him barely able to keep consciousness now, cold sweat forming at the sides of his face, and a puddle of blood building around his legs. His breathing broken. Dying.

Seeing him now, pale, bloodied, and relying on a rock behind him to keep himself upright... for the first time ever you felt fear for your Captain.

"No, no, no," you rush over to Price, taking hold of his face and bringing his eyes to you. Seeing them so close again wakes him somewhat. "Stay with me, Captain."

"I'm still here..." Price answers weakly. Even still, he tries to keep up an act in front of you, like he truly was fine. It only made you more afraid to lose him now. Out in some rocky hilltop in the middle of nowhere because of bad intel. You couldn't lose him like this.

You look over the boulder, seeing the convoy those AQ soldiers showed up in still running a few feet ahead of you. Just what you needed.

"Can you stand?" You ask.

"...I'll need help," he said.

"OK, OK..." You take a deep breath, plotting everything out in your head before taking Price's hand in yours. "There's a convoy over there we can take to the Evac Zone. It'll be faster than going on foot."

You start trying to pull Price up, feeling the man use all the strength he can muster to try and push off the ground and back to his feet. Having one hand to help him didn't make matters easier, however. He made it halfway before falling back against the cold stone with a sharp grunt and some swearing.

Rather than comment, you take Price's hand again, feeling your face turn red with trying to lift him. He gets his knees bent to stand this time, but whenever any weight was applied afterward, an aggressive pain would awkwardly shoot through his body, taking all the momentum from him and causing him to sink back down. And with how heavy he was, you couldn't stop him once he it happened.

Price falls back against the rock again, as frustrated as you are about it all. He can't even bring himself to look you in your eye he's so mad, ashamed of the situation. It's not like him to be the one holding things back. He shouldn't have gotten wounded like this in the first place, he felt.

"...If you go and get help, I can manage here 'til then," Price starts to say. Feeling like a burden, he no longer wished to hold you down. But you wouldn't hear it.

"Fuck that," you protest. "I didn't carry you all the way over here to leave you so you can bleed out."

"...You didn't do it to die here either." He grabs at his side, gritting his teeth along to that burning pain he felt, as the taste of iron tinted the back of his throat now. "Look, this ain't how I plan on goin' out, trust me. Plus we've still got that dinner, yeah?"

Price smiles at you after he says it, and it takes everything in you not to cry. An unspoken reality lingered in the air soon after, because you both knew what it'd mean if you couldn't pick him up from this spot. You'd give anything to not make that so.

You hear more vehicles heading your way from the town. A good handful of them now. Too many. All armed and ready to take out the two 141 soldiers responsible for killing their friends. You knew if you left Price here now, you wouldn't see him again.

"Fuck..." Out of breath and defeated, sorrow starts to settle in and you swallow it down, letting the feelings stir into frustration. "Why'd we wait so long, John?"

Price felt at a loss for words. "I don't know..." he admits. He couldn't quite give you an answer for that; it had always just been... something. He could at least look you in your eyes when he spoke to you now. "But... I'm sorry for that," he says. "Probably should have said somethin' sooner, huh."

You have to bite your cheek to keep from letting his words fill you with so much sorrow and regret. "You and me both."

Fearful that these may actually be your final moments with your Captain, now you wish he hadn't said anything at all, not knowing you'd be losing him so soon after. Leave it to Price to twist the knife in a wound you didn't even know had now grown.

However, Price did not share your begrudging feelings about how things turned out. He'd just been happy finally getting that off his chest. Now, if you could just get to safety then if he did die tonight he'd be satisfied enough with things.

"Better late than never, right?" Price chuckles through the pain. And then he grows quiet. "You know I've always had a pension for dramatic timing."

The vehicles in the distance getting closer now. There was no more time for further talking.

"Forever the attention seeker, Captain," you comment.

"Yours is all I ever needed."

You look back to the town a final time, seeing the convoys getting closer. You take a deep breath, and then you reapproach your Captain, taking his hand. You prepare yourself to try and lift Price back up to his feet again. "Well, you've got it."

"Now hold on-"

"No," you didn't want to hear any more of his excuses to be left behind. If helping him means you both die here, then that was something you were willing to risk. "I'm not leaving you here, so give it up already."

With one final pull, you use all the strength you have left in you to lift your Captain up to his feet. He uses your momentum to push himself up from the boulder, actually managing to stand, though it feels as though his guts are about to spill out of him when he does.

As he's teetering over, you quickly grab hold of his arm, restabilizing him, and trying not to jump too much for joy that you actually got him up this time.

You take his arm and wrap it back around your shoulder, as you guided him over to the convoy.

"We're damn near home free, Captain," you say. "Just hold on a little longer. You'll make it. You're the toughest man I know."

He is the toughest man you knew. A man ready to jump into the fire to save others in need. A man that can shrug off a helicopter crash, take a beating and still keep from succumbing. You knew he'd never go down without a fight, and it's why you felt so safe beside him. It's why you wouldn't leave him.

You open the passenger door and help Price inside.

"...You really want that dinner, don't you?" he teases you.

"Is that even a question?" You check to make sure the vehicle can still run, feeling for any tracking devices that might overcomplicate your escape. Once you see you're good to go, you buckle your seat belt and take the wheel. "Yeah, I want that dinner. Now stop bleeding and sit tight."

"Yes, ma'am."

Next stop, the Evac Zone.

Part Two

[jester-lover]

Hobie with a Desi! S/O

cw/ fem! Reader, horrible attempt at writing British people, including multiple desi cultures bc my girlies need all the representation we can get (it’s slim pickings out here) all fluff, some cultural struggles, but everything is resolved, mentions of insecurities

(LONG POST- headcanons and a drabble)

I'm goth and I had a literary awakening when Hobie showed up

There are literally only two ways I see the two of you meeting

The first involves you being a friend/relative of Pavitir’s, who is exceptionally happy his two homies are getting along

In this situation, Hobie would know a little more about you from the get go, and you most likely would know about him (Pav thinks he’s so cool, he’ll talk about his friends to anyone who’ll listen)

Another; in my opinion, funnier, way for the two of you to meet is him accidentally crashing a desi wedding when he’s on Spidey business

You would be mildly peeved with him for disturbing the wedding, but his spunk and generally opinionated personality make you fall for him

Either way, congratulations! You have the world’s loveliest punk boyfriend

As a boyfriend, Hobie loves helping out in any activity you need help with

He’s the type of boy who tries his absolute hardest to be there for any event that is important to you

No matter if its a massive grad party or a late night pizza run, Hobie is there and having the time of his life

Now, moving onto the cultural aspect, Hobie adores learning about other cultures

Your family is weary of him at first, because of the way he dresses primarily

He manages to find a place in their hearts after they see the way he treats you (with respect and dignity!!!!)

Also the fact that he eats whatever your mom makes, entire plate, man will lick it clean

(I mean, have you seen how much British people love takeaway?)

“Is your mum home yet?” “She’s making something good I bet, she always is.”

He can HANDLE spice, and he’s good with kids (his interaction with Mayday proved that to me)

Your parents may end up, in a shocking event, liking him!

Hobie is your biggest hype man whenever you wear cultural clothes, especially if they’re a little on the edgy side, dark colors and all that

Lehengas, shalwar kameez, sarees, etc, he loves them all

“You're dressed up, aren’t you?”

He’ll explain it to you in this mysticised ‘stepping on eurocentric beauty standards’ type of way, but you know deep down he just thinks you're super pretty

He’s obsessed with your features, no matter what you look like, he thinks you have the most perfect face in the world

If you ever make Hobie Desi food, he’ll be in love with you forever

He loves pani puri, especially if the pani is a lil spicier

His love language is acts of service, and you making him something to eat is like, you are nourishing him?? With bomb Desi food?? he’s is seeing heaven rn

He most DEF asks Pav (who then asks Gayatri) for advice on how to impress you

This leads to him, hanging onto your windowsill, with a Mendhi tube in his hand, and a calm smile on his face

As Hobie slid off his mask, his gorgeous hair fell to the sides of his sharp face. Placing the spiky mask on your side table, he sauntered towards your bed, abruptly sitting down and motioning for you to follow him. 

You sighed, and smiled as you took your spot in front of him. He was alway so considerate, taking your interests into mind whenever he swung by.

“You know, I’m not a pro at this or anything.”

He grinned, almost wolfishly, and placed the small sharp tipped tube into your lap.

“I could care less, do anything on my hands.”

You gently took one of his hands into both of yours, spreading it out to see the flesh of his palm, his nails were painted red this week, courtesy of you, of course.

His long bony hand flexed as you gently took off each of his silverish rings, one by one. 

You were completely focused on this simple act, treating him with a gentleness only you could offer him, a complete contrast from his usual existence. 

“I don’t have a lot of time today, my cousin’s getting married, we have to go to some pre wedding events.”

Hobie perked up in interest, sliding his free hand to smooth out your gingham sheets.

“And what do you plan to wear?”

His mind flashed through all the traditional clothes he’s seen you in, each more ornate and beautiful than the last.

“The lehenga most likely, the peach-ish one, with the sparkles.”

You undid the little plastic pin at the top of the Mehendi tube, applying a slight pressure and making a small line on his palm to start out with.

Hobie looked at you closely, remembering the last time he saw that specific lehenga.

“That one’s cute.”

You laughed a little, looking down at your messy drawing.

“I was going for a flower but it sorta looks like a palm tree.”

He looked down at his hand, a messy smudgy, and less than finished flower was on his palm.

“Maybe, a couple more petals on the top, yeah?”

You squeezed the Mendhi tube again, carefully drawing three extra petals on the top.

“There! I think that's good.”

Hobie looked down at his palm and kept a laugh back, poorly albeit.

The flower wasn’t necessarily bad, just a little wonky.

“It's absolutely beautiful.”

You smiled.

“Hold your hand still until it dries, then peel off the crumbly bits, okay?”

Hobie mockingly saluted with his other hand, matching your smile.

“Anything you say.”

You giggled, taking his face in your hands gently, careful to avoid snagging one of his piercings.

“What am I ever gonna do without you?”

His expression turned a little soft, keeping his smile steady.

“Let's hope it never has to come to that.”

[gurugirl]

Heya girlie!! I hope you’re having the loviest day and have been drinking plenty of water💓 cheeky nosey question? Do you have anything sitting in your drafts that you’re undecided on posting?👀 or any concepts you’ve thought of or like that you might put out soon!

OH HI! I'm having a good good day yes! Just writing and sipping some iced coffee with my dog next to me so I have no complaints. I haven't had any actual water today but iced coffee counts yeah? 😬 I hope you're also keeping hydrated and having a lovely day :)

And I love these cheeky nosy questions!! Do I have anything sitting in my drafts??? Does this answer your question? 🤭

Let's see...

Of the things in my drafts that I feel like I can talk about (buckle up, it gets wild!)

I've got another subrry that's partly done (based on this couple),

I've got an extra part to go with this but it's not finished,

I have a few requests for a bunch of things that are really similar that I didn't share because I started writing them but never finished - and still intend on getting to them,

an idea with a housesitter!yn I started cooking up based on a cute/cheesy movie from the 90s with Goldie Hawn and Steve Martin (🙈) called Housesitter.

AS WELL as another idea I started based on another 90s late 80s (just checked and this one is 1987 lol) movie with Michael J Fox called Secret of My Success (I don't know what to tell y'all, sometimes I just go off the rails and start something to make it my own and it's based on cheesy older movies but I can't help myself 😂),

military!harry x military!reader

A Don't Stand So Close check where Harry grows a bit of a mustache

a stepdad!h idea someone sent me with a lingerie shopping spree

a MFM threesome idea I've been working on FOREVER

the beginning of a part 2 to Sex Ed with Harry that never got finished

a body guard harry (but i wanted to wait bc it was at a time when there were a bunch of body guard harrys coming out and I didn't want to feel like i was competing with the other amazing authors already doing it and doing it better most likely lol

a request for harry x his wife's best friend 🫣 that I have two versions of and cannot figure out how to finish and also wanted to give y'all a break from the cheating trope for a bit

hitman!harry who's very protective of yn and she has no idea he has feelings for her (or that he's a hitman) until one day she's in trouble and he saves her 👀

dark!harry who's your bartender and winds up talking you into going home with him and things get... interesting but you wind up LOVING it - felt a lot like MCC Harry with those kidnapping vibes (even tho yn doesn't get kidnapped it felt too similar at the time so I didn't finish it)

Phew! So that's some of what I've got in there. That's not to mention what I've got in my actual Word docs drafts (that's where I have most of my WIPs and unposted, unfinished fics). Potentially I could just hit post on some of the things but uffff!!! I really prefer everything to be readable and perfect.

Is there anything on this list y'all would be interested in currently??

xoxo

[crochetotterblog]

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Pregnant!Reader

A/N: This was fun to write, if you haven’t seen Kill Bill, you should because it is an amazing movie, plus the reference to you being a former assassin until ‘they beat you into a coma’

Word Count: 3839💕

Warning(s): 18+, guns, death, pregnant lady shooting a gun, kinda breeding kinky? (let me know if I missed some)

Summary: Ghost was lost in thought while walking with his team through the snowy mountains only to find such an oddly too girly home.

—

No one thought Ghost had a life. No one did. No wife or husband, no kids no white piket fence. Ghost and his gaggle of friends are stuck out in the snowy mountains. With everyone cold and shivering. John spots a large cabin. "Lads, look" he pointed towards the two story wooden cabin, a soft dark oak woode hugged the outside, frilly peach curtains hid the inside of the cabin. Who would live out in the mountains like this? Ghost wasn't trying to lead them to his sade house. With everything going on, the one time he promised himself he wasn't goiong to let his gaurd down and leadin potentail threats or his dumbfounded team. He began to sweat, his mask began to cling to his face. Soap followed his captains finger to the lovely girlish cabin. His eyes widened and lit up at the site, not because he was sadly single and so fucking ready to mingle, but he was hoping for a warm place to eat and to not have to have his ass so close to the snow when he took a shit. The team folowed John to the door, Simon had told you, If anyone knocks at all while I am gone; you know where to find it. Do whatever you can to get them off of our property. John stood infront of the door that Simon had hand crafted to make the new place called home, home. John shivered with a soft sigh as he brought his fist up to the door. "Price wait" Ghost said, John stopped and looked at Ghost quickly and annouyed. "Softly" he responded. John gave an annouyed nod and use two knuckles to knock.

You were on the couch looking through the photos of you and your soon to be father. He said he would be back before your lovely son came into this world. You smiled at your wedding day photo before you two went off the grid. You didn't hear the first kind knocks. But once their was a loud bang on your front door, you jumped. Whipping your head to the door, Simon would not have knocked like that, the two short knocks were it's just me to him opening the door shaking his keys loudly and turning the safety on all his guns, then calling for you Love? You checked the window to see one too many shadows at your door, grabbing the pistol on the coffee table you took the safety off walking towards the door, you unlocked it slowly. "C-can I help you?" You asked softly, opening the door more noticing their camo. "Hi, Ms. We were passing by and wondering if we could come inside for a little to get warm and contact base" the bridge mustache said. You looked at all of them, reconizing them all actually. The one who was talking to you was Simon's caption John Price, next to his was the rest of his team. Simon had told and shown you waht they look like, just they don't know what you look like. You clicked your safety back on openig the door more. "Once you pass the doorframe, you must and WILL follow my simple rules: take off your shoes and gear, put on house slippers, do not touch anything, and for the love of all that is holy do NOT go snooping. If I find something out of place, one of you looking through anything I will not hesitate to kill any and all of you" you smiled. Soap's expression lost all of its color.

John turned to look at his team, "You heard the lady" he said harshly as he took off his boots, placing them neatly but the door and taking his gear off placing it right next to them. He kindly took the simple white house shoes from your hands and put them on as he walked into the Riley residence. Everyone followed suit, then you saw Ghost, your handsome husband. But he didn't look happy to see you at the moment, he followed his normal routine, putting on his; yes you guessed it. Ghost house shoes and set his gear down. As he walked passed you he whispered, I didn't mean to lead them here. You smiled and placed your soft hand on his shoulder, smiling whispering back, Welcome home Daddy~ taking your hand from his shoulder, letting him follow his team to the living room.

The fire place was creaking as you brought out some spice hot chocolate, with one normal hot chocolate. You were 7 months pregnant, literally about to pop, and they could see that. Simon had to try and not help you as much with anything knowing it would blow his cover. Placing the tray of spiced drinks on the coffee table you took your special cup and sat in your spot. "What are you guys doing up here anyway? You're lucky I'm nice to let you in my home" you chuckled. "Thank you for letting us in Ms..." John spoke, "Mrs. Riley" you responded. Soap choked on his coco, and looked at you with wide eyes. Simon did not react, all he did was lift his mask slightly to take a sip of the chocolatly goodness. "Mrs. Riley?" He repeated, "Yes, my husband's last name is Riley." You giggled. "What is his first name?" Soap pressed as he nudged Ghost. "Paul" you smiled, "He is on a business trip right now. I'll bring some pillows and blankets out for you hard working shoulders." You winked, placing your coffee down as you tried to stand. Simon noticed this, standing up at record speed helping you to your feet. You held your belly, rubbing it slightly. "Thank you.." you said out of breath.

The team watched Simon jump to his feet to help you. You couldn't help but smile at your so willing to help even if he couldn't say I love you. "Well I'm turning in for the night, please make yourself comfotable," you said with a smile before waddling into the kitchen to grab a cup of yogurt and the whole bag of marshmellows. You let out a soft sigh of joy as you walked up the stairs to your shared room. Meanwhile, the boys were downstairs chatting about how nice you are and that Paul, is a lucky man. Simon bounced his leg, he can't stop thinking and worrying about you. Being 7 months pregnant, anything could happen. He remembers the way his mind ran, thinking of a way to propose to you.

—Flashback—

You and Simon were walking the ailes of Home Depot together, only this time he didn't have his iconic mask, he wore a black medical mask. You couldn't help but smile, at the fact you would live your childhood dream. With your handsome boyfriend, walking throw this orange wood smelling box of a store. Only thing that hasn't come true yet is the fact that you two aren't married. You wanted to build your own home, with your husband, you didn't want to build while the two of you were dating, what would happen if it goes south? Or from his line of work? Anyway, you grabbed a 4x4 smiling as you looked at it; you love crafts, getting your hands dirty. For a kind woman your hands were callased slightly. Lifting your head you looked at Simon who had his hands in his pocket as he watched your face light up with joy. Once you had fought over who was going to pay for the piece of oak wood, you walked to your lovely green jeep. You have told Simon about building your own home, and that for years you have compiled so many ideas into one. A secure basemant, sweet home on the inside and outside, to throw those looking for Simon off. Why would the imfamous Ghost live in such a girly home? 

Large piece of land in the mountains, a flower garden, a big peach tree to sit under with your love as you watched the sunset. Cobblestone path leading to the house, shed and a covered area for your veichles. You thought this through, so much and throughly that it would be impossible to change your mind at all. The two of you drove back to your small apartment, "Love, I have a surprise for you," he smiled under his mask. Youl turned your head to look at him as you mapped out what to cut out into the wood. "I have something you'll love, and whom would keep you company!" He said with cheer, you couldn't help but smile widely, you stood up walking toward him. "Now, I have everything set up" the only thing you didn't know was that he was going to propose to you, in your crummy small apartment. "Close your eyes." You did as told, he held your hands softly as he ushered you to following him gingerly; a door opened and closed once you made it in. He put you in the middle of the room, smiling. He took off his mask and set it down. You would hear screatching and russling. "Okay, open" he smirked. You opened your eyes slowly to see a large tank with a bow wrapped around it.

(Photo not mine, from Pinetrest)

"Huh," you cocked your head to the side, starring at the large glass cage infront of you. Simon then pulls out a small yellow pinkish lump. Your eyes lit up, you've always wanted one! He smiled as he put the reptile in its forever home.

(Photos are mine because this is my leopard gecko Lemonade)

You ran up into his arms, giving him the biggest hug your smile body could. Littering his face in kisses; you let him go and rushed to the tank to look at your new friend. “Love..” he whispered. “Yes,” you answered not looking at him. “One more thing,” he pulled out some photos handing them to you (Photo not mine, found off pinetrest. Pretend it isn’t blue but oak wood brown. But it is from this website: https://vanderhornarchitects.com/residences/classical-revival?pp=0&epik=dj0yJnU9TTR5UFR6MW00YThfVjdKT2ZBYkFLVVZCTVhzTWdFMi0mcD0xJm49VWFtUldRV2dwamhJczZyT1BPUExhQSZ0PUFBQUFBR1BnZ3hr)

Once you looked at the photos, not noticing him getting down on one knee. You looked back at him, “Y/N L/N, will you make me the happiest man in the world and become Mrs. Riley?” A knot in your throat started to grow as your vision became a blur. Nodding your head smiling and offically bursting into tears. “Fuck yeah!” you screamed, he grabbed your hand, rubing his thumb agaisnt it as he out the lovely ring upon your finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping in his arms, smashing your lips agaisnt his. Deeping the kiss by moaning into his mouth as you gripped his hair, he chuckled and took the hint, carrying you into the bedroom closing the door with one swift nudge of his foot. Let’s just say, the neighbors were glad that the two of you left the very next day, packing what little you both had.

—End of Flashback—

While you climbed into your shared bed to rest. Simon was downstairs, on the couch with Soap, as they all chatted and drank the spiced hot chocolate. He loved it when you made him things, he always loved the coco, and the meals you make, he just wishes he can find a way to tell his team that they are staying in his house, and talking to his wife. The next day came as soon as the team closed its eyes. You waddled down the stairs as quietly as you could, making your way to the kitchen. Simon had his feet propped up on a footstool, arms crossed with his head down. Your eyes wondred to you sleeping husband, you knew he never really slept; and when he actually did sleep a small sound, leaves crunching, or animal sounds will make him jump to his feet, reaching for his rifle that layed agasint the wall on his side of the bed. You smiled and walked over to him, gently placing your hand on hias bicep, causing him to open one eye looking towards you, you bit your bottom lip squeezing his bicep, a small gesticulated thing you did to tell him your, thinking about him. His other eye shot open as he pulled his slippered covered feet from the foot stool, sitting up with such speed that his knee nudged Soap causing him to groan rolling over. You held his hand leading him upstairs, even though his steps were larger than yours, and now you walk a bit slower and can't really run up the stairs to tease him. Once you reached the top of the stairs you lead him to the lovely shared room. He closed the door gently, as you slowly took one of his t-shirts off exposing your swolling breast, full of milk; resting agaisnt your chest. He watched as you waddle over to him wrapping your small arms around his neck. You lifted his mask over his nose and place a soft on his lips.

He walked you to the bed, allowing you to get on the bed and lay down. Once you had gotten comfy, slightly propped agaisnt your body pillow, "I see Mommy is needy this moring..." he smirked, you whined in response opening your legs pulling your baby bump so he can have better access to your cunt. This is when he noticed you weren't wearing any panties this morning, or granny panties becasue they are more comfortable than tight lace. "I'm sorry...I couldn't wait any longer" you moaned, he smirk at the sight of his flustared wife, taking it in, "Hold on~" he hushed as he grabbed the poilorad camera, point it at you, "I need my baby when I'm out on a job~" you pushed up on your milk filled breasts, kneading your nipples between your thumb and index finger. With his mask still only showing his lips, he pulled the mask off, feeling more at home. He looked you up and down, crawling towards your naked body. Placing his calist hand against your soft thighs, lowering his head towards your sensitive pussy; just him breathing made you throb. He chuckled lowly before licking your slight with such delicacy, making you rut your tired hips against his rough face. A soft moan came out of your throat, were you always this sensitive? Normally when he would eat you out it would take almost 30 mind before he even lets you cum, but ever since he had gotten you pregnant, you have been so pent up and moody. He jst wanted to make you happy, even if it meant small sessions like this one. What else was he supposed to do? He has pictures of his wife and could use those, or he could ask if you wanted to do something. Most of the time you just wanted him to eat you out, but rare ocasions are when you ride the fuck out of him with your baby bump pushing more weight onto his pelvic bone.

—Downstairs—

Soap woke up to the sound of crunching snow, rushing to his feet he grabbed his knife walking slowly to the window to peek out. Before he could move the curtain, he heard a sound from inside the house. Was that a moan or a groan? A yawn? He slowly yet quietly walked upstairs, listening for the sound again. All Soap could hear were mmm's an sometimes some kind of hiss like you were in pain. All he wanted to do was go to the bathroom and hopefully not walk into Mr. Riley. As he stalked his way to the bathroom. 10 minutes pass by and Soap is walking down the hall; right before he passed your bedroom the door opened, "Oh, hi Mrs.-" when the door started to close, he saw a tall dark figure pulling something over their face. They didn't seem to hear Soap, "Si get back here~" you whispered stickig your hand out from the room to grab your husband by the neck of his shirt. With a hard tug you were able to yank your 6'7 husband that weighs about 250 in muscle.

Soap woke up to the sound of crunching snow, rushing to his feet he grabbed his knife walking slowly to the window to peek out. Before he could move the curtain, he heard a sound from inside the house. Was that a moan or a groan? A yawn? He slowly yet quietly walked upstairs, listening for the sound again. All Soap could hear were mmm's and sometimes some kind of hiss like you were in pain. All he wanted to do was go to the bathroom and hopefully not walk into Mr. Riley. As he stalked his way to the bathroom. 10 minutes pass by and Soap is walking down the hall; right before he passed your bedroom the door opened, "Oh, hi Mrs.-" when the door started to close, he saw a tall dark figure pulling something over their face. They didn't seem to hear Soap, "Si get back here~" you moaned as you grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him back into the room.

Si? He thought, why would she say yes in Spanish or Si short for Simon...wasn't her husbands' name Paul? Is Ghost into cheating? Being a lover? Soap walked back down the stairs with a shocked confused look slapped on his face. As Soap walked towards the task team he could hear faint growls and giggles. Once Soap made it downstairs, the front door was wide open. A cool chill ran down his spine as he looked over at his team, who were tied up. He was pulled by his neck, whoever this was knew what they were doing. It was a struggle to subdue Soap, but not as bad as their main target. Ghost. "Where is she?" the man asked, no one spoke. "Fine then, turn this place upside down" he ordered, all of his men in winter camo searched foro Ghost, destroying everything that he had built.

A few seconds later, two men came down the stairs dragging this hunk of a man in front of their boss. "You have something of ours, and Bill ain't gonna like his pet being taken from him." He spat. "I don't know what you're talking about," he responded. They watched as this man stood over Ghost, growing angrier by the second. Hands were thrown, Ghost got a decent beating. "We found her," two men said with a smug tone. "Let go of me" you shouted as one held onto your arm, making sure you kept up. "Y/N Riley, finally. Bill has missed you," the man smiled. Your old job, being an assassin, for a man that didn't give a shit about you unless you had some kind of clothing off your body. The man that abused you for so many years, has found you; you were pregnant with Simons' child. "Oh, how far along are you? Doesn't matter, it won't last long anyway" he chuckled. 141 watched the encounter, Ghost, looking helpless, staring at you as you stare at the leader with furrowed brows.

"You, and you punk ass bitches get the fuck out of my house," you snarled. He only laughed at you. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. You see, we are getting a great sum of money for your alive ass, with no vermin inside you" he retorted. He looked down at Simon, "So you must be Mr. Riley? The lucky guy to have taken Bill's girl?" He questioned, then Soap spoke up, "What are you on about," he turned to Soap, grabbing the photo album that laid on a wooden side table, opening it up. You and Simon on your wedding day. He still had his mask on and everything, which makes you laugh every time you look back at that photo. They all looked at each other, then Ghost, then to your embarrassed face. Your eyes began to fill tears, as you looked down at Simon. Whispering to yourself, Just this once, and it will be over with. You can do this Y/N. Simon knew you used to be an assassin, and how you hated it, and swore never to kill anyone unless absolutely, positivity, necessary. "I-I'll go pack my things. . ." You sighed in defeat, looking at Simon and winking. Looking up at you, you could see that smile. The man holding your arm led you back upstairs standing outside of the shared room so you could get changed and pack. Big rookie mistake is what he made. You grabbed the semi-auto that you had bought for yourself in case of a situation like this. Walking back to the man who was standing by the door, you hit him with the butt of your gun, knocking him out. "On second thought," you sighed, walking down the stairs carrying the heavy semi-auto. "How about you and your punks, fuck off my property, before I fill you all full of lead." You smirked, the angry lust coursing through your veins. Some of the men just backed off and went outside. Others stayed to fight the pregnant woman. "No" he said, Simon pushed himself from the couch to his team, his eyes not leaving his wife who was having a standoff with the aggressive stranger. While they were all occupied by his wife, he swiftly and slowly grabbed a hidden rifle disguised as an umbrella; helping his team move out of the house with their gear to take care of those outside. "I am going to ask you one more time," you said, taking a step towards them, with each step you took, then backed up; until they made it outside. "Round up," the stranger said, all of his men stood behind him, waiting for his order. "Fuck off grasshopper" you snarled with venom spraying from your mouth as you pulled the trigger, owing them down like a firing squad. You yelped, shaking your delicate hand. "Hey, hey what happened?!" Simon said with fear. "I burnt my finger and cracked a nail because of you bitches" you spat as you tossed the semi down into the snow, spitting on the men. "You lot owe me big time" you hissed. Pointing your finger at them.

Simon sighed with relief, "I fucking knew it!" Soap screamed. Simon looked over at Soap, "Johnny what are you on about," "I knew you two were fuckin' or somethin' but I didn't think you two were actually married. Thought you might have had a thing for taken women, and pregnant women?" Simon pushed Soap into the snow, while the rest of his team were still in shock. "I'm sleeping on the couch when I get back. . ." he sighed rubbing the back of his neck.

[where-the-wind-travels]

giselle & her timeline ✦ edits by me

if you don't know who giselle is, she's a transfem version of aiden i came up with for a hss au (the same au my oc darlene comes from, she's also dating darlene) that i've had in mind for quite some time but never really posted about it

also, hope yall don't mind that i literally just used a dakota winchester base for her 😭 i did think about using aiden for upper face and dakota for lower face, but i feel like just this base would make a great f!aiden feel free to correct me if i'm wrong

(under the edits are a lot of semi drabble headcanons that i swear i didn't mean to write that long but i couldn't stop myself 😭)

book 2, winter formal outfit —

(here koh had been helping her physically transition all the way since book 1, but i'm starting from book 2 because that's when she comes out to her parents, meaning the winter formal is the first time she ever wears feminine clothing in public)

Giselle: "Everyone... hope I'm not late."

Darlene: [jaw drops] "Gi, you look like..."

Emma: "...a princess."

Myra: "A literal princess! Girl, you look like you're 5 seconds away from singing about letting it go." [Giselle rolls her eyes at Myra]

Michael: "Where'd you even get that dress from?"

Giselle: "Ah, this is my mom's prom dress from the 90s. She heard the words winter formal and begged me to try it on. I told her 'no, mom, it's fine, I can wear a suit if you want me to', since... you know, she's not used to seeing me in stuff like dresses and skirts yet, but she practically shoved me into this dress."

Darlene: [holding Giselle's hand] "She made the right choice."

book 3, spring casual appearance —

Giselle: "I... tried doing something with my hair. I hope it looks good, because I really don't want to go back to my old hair."

Caleb: "It does look good on you, but why the face?"

Giselle: [surprised] "What face?"

Maria: "You don't really look like you like it. Do you regret getting your hair done?"

Giselle: "No, it's not the hair..."

Emma: "Then what is it? Your clothes?"

Giselle: [nods] "Mmhm. My parents bought me these. I don't want to be ungrateful because... my parents support me enough to buy me clothes, and there are plenty of trans kids out there whose parents don't even want them in their home. But..."

Darlene: "But what?"

Giselle: "I don't like this style they're assigning me. It reminds me too much of my old self. And I don't just want to be the same person I was before, but in girl form."

Sydney: "Are you saying you'd like to try a new style?"

Darlene: "You'd look good in anything, Gi. No matter if it's girly, tomboyish, alternative, or even country girl."

Myra: [laughs] "Imagine that... 'Yeehaw, my captain!'"

Michael: "Myra, cowboys don't have captains. That's pirates."

Giselle: [giggles] "Ezra is trying to get me to join the dark side and turn into a grunge girl. I don't think I want that, really, but I do feel like I want to make a statement now... Is there an alternative style that's girlier but still eye catching, without any spikes or chains or ripped fishnets?"

Maria: "...I think there is."

book 3, prom outfit —

Cameron: "Giselle! Hey, wait up!"

Giselle: "Huh? Ah, hey there. What did you need?"

Cameron: "Nothing much, I just wanted to congratulate you."

Giselle: "Me...? What for?"

Cameron: "What not for? You're one of the strongest and most talented people I know. I might have known you for only three months, but I know this year has been a wild ride for you. You've been through pretty much everything and still manage to come out on top. I'm... really proud of you."

Ezra: "We all are."

Giselle: [blushes] "Oh, I... thank you... Normally I like compliments and-- and even look for them myself, but I just... don't know what to say for this one." [Cameron and Ezra laugh]

Cameron: "I have to say, you're kind of my role model. Not just because of all your talents in band, but also, I wish I could've figured myself out like you did. It took me years to figure out my identity, let alone how I wanted to present myself."

Giselle: "Speaking of that... I'm sorry, everyone, but I've been thinking about this for a while, and I... don't think I want to be in band anymore."

[everyone's jaw drops]

Myra: "What?! Girl, what's gotten into you?"

Giselle: "Don't get me wrong, I still love music! Who would I be if I didn't? But... composing, instruments, band, I want to leave all of that behind. I don't know if permanently... I hope not, but at least for now I want to focus on something else."

Ezra: "Something else as in what?"

Giselle: "...Promise you all won't laugh? [everyone nods] Well, as in... performance? Not performing as in playing songs, but performing as in--"

Cameron: "Dancing?"

Giselle: "Mmhm. When the year started, I was not only super insecure of myself but also an awful dancer, and Darlene helped me with both of those things. I want to try incorporating it into my life... for her and for myself."

summer break appearance —

Giselle: "Hey everyone! I brought popsicles."

Darlene: "Oh... my."

Sydney: "That is the most sparkly outfit I've ever seen you in."

Myra: "And also the most pink. I thought you didn't even like pink, what happened to you?"

Giselle: [shrugs] "Maybe I was just in the mood for something different. Remember spring quarter, when I told you all about wanting to find my style and all that? Well... I'm pretty sure I found it."

Emma: "You did? Please tell us all about it, Gi!"

Giselle: "So I'm reading about this fashion subculture that lets girls go all out. I'm talking super flashy clothes and hair, so many cute accessories, and their makeup is so pretty... they even have hangout spaces just for them!"

Sydney: "Really?"

Giselle: "Yeah, it's called gal... I can't believe I didn't know this existed before! Now I want to become one, and I'm not sure where to even start."

Michael: "Giselle, you're drooling."

Maria: "No, she's not."

Michael: "But she's about to be if no one stops her."

class act appearance —