#its just around this time is when she is like a household name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tremendum · 1 year ago

Text

personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 5.6k requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines Mr. Miller Series ]

★

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to.

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth.

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs.

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection.

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least.

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response.

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's.

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university.

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ.

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you.

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions.

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..."

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it.

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks.

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?"

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have." you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad.

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?"

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse.

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city?

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention.

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you.

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him.

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight.

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench.

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah."

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters.

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off.

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio.

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen.

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid.

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator -

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage."

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping."

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads.

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look.

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite.

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked.

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has.

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done.

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel."

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad."

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change."

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down.

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light.

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike.

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame.

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-"

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?"

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt.

"Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks.

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me."

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes."

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts.

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise."

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want."

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need.

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?"

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that."

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though.

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it."

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens.

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show."

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge.

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you."

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer.

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass.

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words.

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs.

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him.

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly.

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you.

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt.

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl.

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth.

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet."

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow.

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back.

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-"

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision.

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen.

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?"

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?"

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling.

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper.

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it.

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it."

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant.

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock."

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding.

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit.

“f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp.

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio.

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen.

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you.

you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him.

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning.

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?"

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs.

shit.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @

message me if i forgot to tag u. requests are open.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

#joel miller smut #joel smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pre-outbreak!joel miller #joel the last of us

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bet-on-me-13 · 11 months ago

Text

Captive AU

So, the GIW has been around for a while.

Ghosts have been a problem for centuries, the US Government wouldn't have waited until the 21st Century to figure out a way to deal with them, so the GIW has been around for years. And the general Public knows about them, it's a common household name like the FBI or the CIA. They are simply seen as another government organization doing its job, no need to care about the Ghosts they capture, they're Non-Sentient anyways.

Over the years of their existence, they have acquired their own little prison full of Ghosts. And among that collection of Ghosts, 4 stand out.

Because they are somehow Ghost-Human Hybrids.

The first was captured a while before the others. A College Student studying Ectology had been admitted to the Hospital after a Lab Accident, where he had been diagnosed with an, as of yet, unknown and incurable Disease. He had Green Boils popping up all over his Face, and he was in excruciating Pain.

The GIW had sent a team to investigate, and they had found that the College Student was slowly transforming into some type of abomination. He was still partially human, but he was also partially a Ghost. They had him declared Dead and shipped him off to a Blacksite Facility to be experimented on.

...

The Second One came about 10 years later. Coincidentally, it was very similar circumstances. The very same pair of scientists who had been acquainted with their previous subject had just admitted their 5 Yr old son into a local Hospital. He had been in a Lab Accident that had stopped his Heart for a few minutes, and out of curiosity the GIW had sent a Team to investigate.

And what did they find, but a perfect recreation of their favorite Test Subject.

They declared the Child Dead, and sent him off to the same Facility they kept the other one in.

...

The 3rd of the Hybrids was actually created in a GIW Lab, 3 Years Later. In an experiment to see if the Hybrids condition could be recreated, a GIW Scientist had taken the DNA of the 2 existing Hybrids and had cloned them.

Of the Test Batch of 15, only 1 Subject survived. It was deemed only a Partial Success, because while they did manage to create a New Hybrid, it was Unstable and prone to melting if overexerted.

They placed it in the same Containment Unit as the other 2, and left it at that. No more Cloning Experiments had been conducted afterwards since the project was deemed an overall Failure.

...

The 4th and Final Hybrid was found in Gotham City of all places, 2 years later.

A GIW Operative had been visiting Family when their Van's Ecto-Detector had gone off. Soon after that they found the Subject in an Alleyway, seemingly disoriented from its recent awakening.

DNA testing had revealed the Hybrid to be deceased Jason Peter Todd, the adopted Son of Bruce Wayne who had been killed 6 Months Prior while studying in Ethiopia. By the Scientists Best Guess, an Anomoly in Space-Time had caused a Natural Portal to open right on top of the Teenagers Corpse, fusing his Deceased Body and nearly formed Ghost into One.

They shipped the Teen off to the Blacksite, and placed him in the same Containment Unit as the others.

...

So now the GIW have 4 Hybrids, all created from different circumstances, all different ages.

One was formed from the Slow Death of a College Age Student, after a Lab Accident had flooded his system with Pure Ectoplasm.

One was form from the Instant Death of a 5 yr old Boy, after a Lab Accident had flooded his Body with a dimensions worth of Ectoplasm.

One was created in a GIW Lab in a Cloning Experiment. She was created to be 3 Yrs Old upon Birth, and was Unstable as a Result.

One was created from the Fusion of a Long Dead Teenage Corpse and a nearly formed Ghost, in a random Space Time Event that forced both together.

...

All the Halfas are basically a Family together. Vlad is the oldest, at around 35, and takes the Paternal Role.

Danny and Ellie are the Kids, and are 10 and 5 respectively.

Jason is the Oldest Child, and takes his Older Brother role very seriously. He is 15 when he is brought in.

They all take care of eachother, through all the experiments and tests the GIW force them through.

One of the most common experiments is to have them battle the other Ghosts in Captivity. Although that is just a thinly veiled dog fighting ring that the GIW scientists like to Bet on. Sometimes they are put up against eachother, but they refuse to fight until they are electrocuted into submission.

They were also forced to Push all of their Powers to their Limits every day, just so the Scientist can see how they are growing. This had drained them, since they only got the absolute minimum amount of Ecto to survive off of, and they were forced to use it all up every day.

This goes on for 3 more years.

...

Until the day when the GIW messed up.

During one of their Constant Dog Fights, they had made the mistake of putting two Electricity Core Ghosts against eachother. The resulting battle had created an Electromagnetic Wave that fried all systems in the entire Facility.

It was a Disaster. Dozens of Scientists were killed when the Door Locks failed to contain the captive Ghosts, and even more were injured when a few of the Ghosts managed to break into the Armory on Base.

It was only hours after the whole ordeal was Finally quelled that they realized that their most Valuable Test Subjects were missing.

Vlad, Danny, Jason, and Ellie had taken the chance to run away during the commotion. Vlad had unfortunately been injured during the escape, and Ellie had been forced to use her powers causing her to destabilize a little, but all in all they had managed to escape on one piece.

But now they were fugitives on the run from the Government, with an injured adult and a sick child.

Jason had an Idea though. While he didn't have very clear memories of his life, a side effect of his late resurrection, he did remember that he used to live in Gotham. And they all remember researchers grumbling about how their scanners always malfunction when they passed nearby Gotham.

So, Jason led his little Family to the most Familiar place in the city he could think of.

Crime Alley.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #GIW #Guys In White #Ghost Investigation Ward #The GIW is actually Compent #They have been around for years #They capture Vlad when he is first admitted into the Hospital #They catch Danny when he is admitted into the hospital as well but as a 5 Yr Old #They make Ellie and keep her in Captivity #And they Catch Jason the same day he is revived as a Halfa #Just to clear up the Ages #Vlad was captured at 20 and is released at 38 #Danny is captured at 5 and is released at 13 #Jason is captured at 15 and is released at 18 #Ellie is a bit more complicated #She is Born as a 3 yr old #She is physically 8 but actually 5 when she is released #The GIW was seen as a good thing for decades by the Public #So even the JLA agreed that the Ghosts needed to be locked up #The JLA is horrified when JLD tells them that Ghosts are both Sentient and Sapient #Especially since the GIW researchers they question seem to be oddly defensive about the whole thing #The GIW knew all along but they kept it a secret because they are assholes #Jason leads his little family to Crime Alley #He finds a few good hiding spots for his family and eventually decides to start helping out around the neighborhood

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propertyofwicked · 4 months ago

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you're gonna go far - ln

♬ so pack up your car, put a hand on your heart. say whatever you feel, be wherever you are...

warnings: angst. thats kinda it icl

masterlist the playlist

at 16, had anyone asked y/n where she saw her life now, she probably wouldn’t have expected to answer that she was still watching lando’s career in motorsport blossom into a legacy. not that she didn’t imagine him being successful, it was just hard to comprehend that the boy who fell asleep in the back of his dads car on the way back from a karting race would one day be one of the most successful formula one racers on the 21st century. the boy who wiped sweat from his forehead, his other hand shaking as he raised the flowers he held up and mumbled a quick “will you be my girlfriend?”

and when lando got his first break in racing, y/n was there, cheering the loudest, her eyes shining with pride.

at 18, the two laid together, having late-night conversations about their futures, promising to support each other no matter what. lando was progressing in his career, working closely with mclaren, y/n was looking at universities, dreaming of what she would spend the rest of her working life pursuing.

and at 20, moving into the flat had been a dream come true. lando's career with mclaren soared. he became a household name, known for his skill and charisma on and off the track. y/n was always there, cheering him on, even when she couldn't be at the races in person. and the two found solace in returning to their little flat, cooking together, being surrounded by each other in every aspect.

but at 22, she did not think that she would be sat in their home, hands tightly gripping a mug between her hands, the sun casting a golden hue that spread softly throughout the flat.

the distance between them had grown. the long hours, the constant travel, and the relentless demands of the sport started to take their toll. y/n felt it most on the nights she was alone in their flat, the silence a stark contrast to the roar of engines and the cheers of the crowd. she tried to fill the void but nothing couldn't mask the loneliness that crept in.

lando's absence became more frequent. their once lively home felt emptier with each passing day. phone calls and video chats couldn't bridge the gap, and y/n found herself missing the little things - his laugh, his touch, the way he made her feel alive. she tried to stay positive, reminding herself of his dreams and the promise she had made to always support him.

the air was thick with unspoken words as they stood in the kitchen. the flat was filled with a tense silence that neither of them knew how to break - it was like this any time he came home recently. lando seemed restless, his eyes avoiding hers. finally, he broke the silence.

"i'm planning on moving to monaco," he said matter-of-factly, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth, "it's the best move for my career, to be closer to other drivers and in a better position to travel to races."

y/n felt her heart clench, a wave of numbness washing over her. she couldn’t reason with him, she didn’t want to. understanding that their relationship had been unravelling for a while. she had become an afterthought, a part of his past that didn't quite fit into his future.

"i understand," she replied softly, her voice void of emotion.

lando looked at her, his expression a mix of relief and regret. he stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled away gently.

"it's okay," she whispered. "i know you're gonna go far. this is the best decision for you career," she said, echoing his previous statement, void of any ability to fight this.

and across the following weeks, as lando packed his things, y/n watched from a distance, feeling detached from the life they had built together. the memories of their laughter, their dreams, and their love seemed like distant echoes. she moved through the days like a ghost, mentally distanced from everything around her, unable to talk to anyone about the emptiness growing inside her.

she missed the way he would come home and wrap his arms around her, the way they would stay up late talking about their dreams. she missed the feeling of being loved. they hadn’t even discussed the break up, or the fact they had even broken up - “im moving to monaco” was a weighted sentence, a statement that had no place for her.

when the day came for lando to leave, y/n stood by the door, her eyes dry and her heart heavy. he hugged her one last time, and she held on just a moment longer, savouring the last trace of lando in her life.

"take care," she murmured, almost coldly, before stepping back and letting him go.

as the door closed behind him, y/n felt a hollow ache in her chest. she knew lando was destined for greatness, but the price had been their love. she sat down in the empty flat, the silence now a testament to what had been lost. she wandered from room to room, each corner filled with memories of a time when they had been inseparable.

their friends noticed the change in y/n, the way her laughter no longer reached her eyes, the way she seemed to be merely existing rather than living. they tried to reach out, to offer comfort, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about the emptiness she felt. she painted smiles on her face, but inside, she was numb, unable to process the loss of the person who had been her world.

as months went by, y/n threw herself into her work, hoping to find solace in the one thing that had always been constant in her life. she worked hard, she improved, but every achievement felt hollow without lando by her side. she watched his races on tv, feeling a mix of pride and sorrow. he was going far, just as she had always known he would, but he was doing it without her.

standing on the balcony of their flat, looking out over the city they had once explored together, the lights of london stretched out before her, a reminder of the dreams they had shared. the city looked the same, the lights still cascaded through the rows of buildings, the cars still sped through the streets at all times of the day. how could she be angry? he was achieving his dreams, she was doing the same. it wasn’t fair to keep him here against his own volition.

it wasn’t fair, but it didn’t make it any easier. it didn’t stop her from hurting, thinking about how easily he’d left her behind in search for something greater. she took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to move on, let go of the past, find a new path.

with a heavy heart, y/n too began packing up the flat, each item a reminder of the life they had built together. she carefully wrapped up the photos, the mementos of their time together, and placed them in boxes.

when the flat was finally empty, y/n stood in the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been their home. she knew it was time to close this chapter and start a new one, to find her own path, even if it meant doing it alone. as she locked the door behind her, she whispered a silent goodbye to the life they had shared, knowing that lando was destined to go far and that she had to find her own way, with or without him.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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sxorpiomooon · 5 months ago

Text

YOU AS A CELEBRITY - PAC READING

Paid readings (tarot and astrology)

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

pile 1-

the vibe I'm getting is of someone who will get chosen purely on the basis of luck and the potential that they might have and then they'll have to put all the hardwork. Unlike other people your hardwork will come after you get picked. This reminds me sort of the anoy yai situation but a k-pop idol situation also keeps coming to my mind. I also see you being a household name and people or families will love seeing you together and I also see you gaining popularity in your home town. you might be a cancer placement if you took this pile, very ambitious people and I see you being mostly a loner because of all the jealousy and competition that will surround you. I see young people especially having a liking to you lmao there's youthful energy here I also see you guys being the most popular out of these three lmao mainly bc I see you guys going into every field and the promotion will be really good I keep having visions of you sitting in tv shows talking also interacting with the general public.

Pile 2

Ooo people will love you, you will be the star of everyone's eyes. I see you might also be an encouraging and inspiring figure to people and people looking up to you. I see this pole might give really good speeches lmao. I also see you guys becoming popular since day 1 and getting tons of sponsorships, pr packages etc. however I see alot of chaos I think the popularity will of course come with its own disadvantages. You guys might be in people's eyes too much all the time I'm sort of reminded of the Britney situation and I see you guys losing your interest and getting just really exhausted because of this. There is also legacy here this reminds me of the Paris Hilton and Kim k situation she started to gain popularity by being around her in the beginning I see your fame coming from someone else in the beginning be it your family members or friends this is like a pile of star kids someone who might already know popular people or soon will. I'm honestly getting leo vibes but could also be venus ruled signs

Pile 3

I see this pile working hard it gives the vibe of someone who knows that this is want they want and they have to do there is no luck here simply hard work and dedication. I also feel as if this pile might either get scammed in the beginning when they'll be establishing yourself or might just come across alot of tricky people in their life testing their passion. You might also gain appreciation from people for your donations and charity I see this pile speaking up about issues alot and using their platform to spread awareness. I see the fame of this pile taking some time. I see you guys working really hard and in the end it will pay off. You guys will be humble and generous. All the fame that this pile will get will come from their own hardwork it will not be handed to them they will make their own place. Aries, Taurus, Virgo placements i think

thankyou!!!

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avtrbee · 1 year ago

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safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk #parental megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro

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marybeatriceofmodena · 2 years ago

Note

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

youtube

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

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Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

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And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

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Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

#YOU'RE WELCOME ANON #anon asks #Andrew Lloyd Webber #Patti LuPone #evita #sunset boulevard #phantom of the opera #love never dies

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daintcas · 8 months ago

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lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt

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goodstuffhappenedtoday · 1 year ago

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Dog repeatedly escapes Up North shelter, sneaks into nursing home

An abused stray mutt kept trying to move himself into a senior care facility. So the nurses there had to figure out what to do about him.

He’d had enough of being at the animal shelter, so Scout the dog climbed over one tall fence and then another, crossed a busy highway in the darkness, entered the automatic doors of a nursing home down the road, walked unnoticed into the lobby, hopped onto a couch, curled into a ball and quietly went to sleep for the night. An astonished nurse there found him the next morning. She called Antrim County Animal Control, whose shelter happens to be just down the road. And they discovered that he'd escaped from there the night before. Scout was a stray mutt. He had no identity, no history. The shelter staff gave him his new name, but otherwise they knew nothing about him, though they noticed he had the distinct demeanor of an abused dog. Somebody apparently once shot him too, with BBs or birdshot, because his jowl still had some kind of round pellets embedded in it. You couldn’t see them, but you could feel them if he let you touch him. The sheriff came and took him back to the shelter.

But a few nights later there was Scout, back on that same couch in the nursing home lobby. Somehow he again scaled a 10-foot chain-link fence, then a 6-foot solid privacy fence, crossed a highway without getting run over, entered the front door unnoticed, jumped onto the same couch as before and made himself at home for the night. A call was placed again. He was brought back to the shelter again. Just a couple of nights after that, Scout was back on the couch for the third time. And the staff had a decision to make.

Lost and found

Meadow Brook Medical Care Facility is a long-term medical care residence about an hour northeast of Traverse City. It cares mostly for seniors, some of whom have terminal illnesses, or dementia, or simply nowhere else to go or nobody to look after them. There are 82 beds split between several smaller households. For some reason, this is the place Scout the dog decided to make his home. “I’m a person who looks at outward signs, and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be,” said Marna Robertson, 57, the nursing home’s administrator. “He did that one time, two times, three times, and obviously that’s something that you should pay attention to. And I asked the staff, ‘Well, he wants to be here. Would anybody like to have a dog?’”

The staff formally adopted him. Suddenly the nursing home had its own pet. And the residents were delighted. “I think it reminds them of being home,” said Rhonda Thomczak, 49, the administrative assistant at Glacier Hill, the household where Scout was first discovered. “When you’re home you have your pets, and you don’t get to have that here. Having a dog around makes it feel like home.”

#good stuff #dog

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iamthemain-character · 1 month ago

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The Gold and the Rust

astarion x reader

she/her

TW: mild spice, almost dubcon (but nothing actually happens! we only believe in clear consent in this household!), mentions of canonical trauma

@ S.H. you better give me a big kiss for this one

One bright morning changes all things

Soft and easy as your breathing, you wake

Your eyes open, at first a thousand miles away

But turning, shoot a silver bullet point-blank range

And I can scarce believe what I'm believing in

Could this be how every day begins?

The grass was soft and cool under the scarred skin that stretched over Astarion’s shoulder blades. He was sure his body ached, but after thousands of years of this routine, he hardly even noticed it anymore. What he never got used to was the prick of guilt, making his heart bleed out into his stomach.

He pushes himself off the ground, relying on his hands to keep his frame upright. He let his head drop back between his shoulders, the soft, bristle-like ends brushing over his skin. He couldn’t help but recall how your hands had grasped at those same hairs not but a few hours ago. It had stirred an unexpected feeling in him, that simple gesture in the heat of passion. It was not the first time someone had grabbed his hair while he pleasured them, nor did he expect it to be the last. Yet...it had felt different; the pulling certainly had left his scalp tingling from the force of it, but it wasn’t violent. It had felt like you needed him closer, needed to have his lips on yours, needed his skin to merge within your own. Your touches had felt like you needed to know every part of him, like your soft fingers could reach down into his damned soul and bring it back to life.

He had never been needed before.

Astarion looked over to the side, his ruby eyes appreciative as he gazed at your body. Your skin looked so soft, the peaks and valleys of your frame swirling in the sunlight that shone through the leaves. You looked just like a treasure, glowing and priceless in your mere existence. Astarion’s mind kept replaying the sound of your voice as you had squirmed underneath him, the way your softness welcomed his tight grip. Heaven didn’t exist for vampires, but when you had called out his name he was sure he had found it.

Something altogether too warm and fluttery stirred in his cold, undead heart, and Astarion pushed himself up off of the ground, stretching to his full height as his hands brushed the low-hanging leaves of the willow tree that covered the two of you. He wasted no time collecting his clothes, lacing up his leather trousers in a business-like manner.

Just before he could don his shirt, however, he heard the rustling of the grass behind him; for some reason he could not fathom, he wanted to turn around. He wanted to watch you wake up, let his fingers lazily trace over your skin, pretending he was the artist who had fashioned this masterpiece. Then, perhaps when you woke up fully, he would create his own works of art upon your warm skin.

With a start, he snapped himself out of his thoughts, realizing his shirt was hanging loosely in his hands, swaying in the breeze. He felt an unfamiliar rush to his ears, a sort of embarrassment at catching himself so lost in thought over you. He never had trouble like this with any of his other victims before, so why was he so sentimental over you? Astarion knew he couldn’t love anyone, it wasn’t who he was. So why did he yearn to lay back down in the soft grass again?

Against his better judgment, he turned around, and he felt his resolve weaken. The sun now shone over your face, and you had instinctively turned away from the light, but the Sun’s hands still left its caress over your neck and hair. Astarion softly crossed the short distance, crouching down beside your sleeping body. His logic was screaming at him to leave, to make sure there was no chance of a confrontation between the two of you. That was how he was going to string you along, of course, keep you guessing, wanting more. But now he was the one guessing himself, and needing more.

Slowly, he laid on the grass again, feeling the sun glint off his own paper-white skin. He kept his chin over his shoulder, his gaze unable to be pulled away from your features. His fingers nearly ached with the desire to reach out, to feel your jaw under them, or the way your shoulder felt through your hair. But he kept them still, not willing to chance disturbing your rest.

This was good for his ultimate plot, he reasoned to himself. You would trust him so much more if he woke up beside you, showered you with flirtatious comments and sensual touches. Him staying behind was a good thing for him, so he wouldn’t have to wait as long to be able to manipulate you to his whims.

Surely that was the reason he laid beside you in the morning light, his pinky just a hair away from touching yours.

One bright morning goes so easy

Darkness always finds you either way

It creeps into the corners as the moment fades

A voice your body jumps to calling out your name

But after this I'm never gonna be the same

And I am never going back again

Astarion could see your hunger the moment you had come back into camp. Your eyes had that dark expression, your body tense in a way that he knew exactly how to relieve. It was beautiful, something he certainly appreciated, but his chest ached with the anxiety of having to perform. Just the thought of touching you in that way made him want to puke whatever little blood was in his stomach. Not because you yourself were repulsive, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel your hands, but instead the claws of Cazador.

But he didn’t want to lose you. Already, his perfect plan was in crumbles. He already had your protection, your blood that you offered willingly. Now it was just maintenance. But instead, he kept trying to be more, to have more with you, simply because he wanted to. He liked your subtle glances across the camp, he liked the way you’d brush your leg against his. He loved the way he was finally able to learn to sleep because you held him so tightly after your encounters. Despite his best efforts, he had gotten used to having you as his, having your sole attention and romantic interest. Even if the blond elf pretended to not care, he liked having you all to himself.

So when you entered his tent, already looking like you were one breath away from shredding his clothes, he did what he always has. Kept his mouth shut, shutting off his brain and letting his body exist for the only thing he was good for. He felt like he was simply watching as you kissed him, lips hungry and needy as they sought to claim his. He simply followed the routine, touching where he knew you liked it, meaningless words murmured in a sickenly sultry tone. If he could just get through this, he would be fine. And besides, you always felt so good, so he was simply overreacting. He would be fine.

He let you pull off his shirt, but while your hands rested over his heart, the memory of Cazador’s tightened around it, fear running through his ice cold veins. And when you pushed him down onto the bedroll, straddling his hips, he didn’t see your adoring smile, but rather the vampiric fangs that had doomed him so long ago.

“Astarion?”

Your gentle voice broke through his thoughts, though by the look on your face, you must have called for him few times before.

He tried to gather himself, putting on his practiced wicked smile. “Yes, pretty girl?”

Your forehead was wrinkled from your furrowed brows, the desire in your eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, and if Astarion didn’t know better, he would have thought you cared.

“Of course pet. Please, I believe you were getting to something very important.”He purred, a little uncomfortable with the sudden attention to himself.

Instead of continuing, however, you got off of him, kneeling beside the bedroll. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

Astarion sits up, and opens his mouth to reassure you, but he pauses as he hears your words. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure he had heard them properly, because no one ever asked what he wanted, or if he even wanted the things he was doing. Still, the fear that you’ll walk away, that you’ll find someone else to shower your attention on seizes him, and he knows he must double down on the lie. “Dearest, I could see you wanted me from the moment you came into camp. Let me take care of your needs, ease the weariness from the day.”

You shook your head vehemently, a frown pulling at your mouth. “That’s not what I’m asking, Astarion. Do you want this right now, or would you rather not?”

Shame and guilt filled up his stomach, churning it into a stormy sea. Your eyes were so intense, as if you could see through him. He wasn’t sure his careful web of lies could protect him this time. “What does it matter what I want?” Astarion winces at how bitter his voice sounds, knowing that he’s not angry with you. He hesitates, wondering briefly if you were going to punish him for his impertinence.

Your furrowed brows arch upwards, surprised at his tone, but you don’t move away, nor do you make any move to harm him. “I don’t want to sleep with you if you don’t want it as much as I do.” You say, your voice a little frustrated from how much Astarion is dodging your questions.

Astarion huffs, looking guilty. “I can still give you what you want. I know how to make you feel-”

“That's not the point.” You cut him off, taking a deep breath to keep yourself calm. “Is that really what you think this is? You think I come to you just because of what you can give me?”

For the first time in his undead life, Astarion is speechless, a little bewildered by your reactions and your words. “What else would you come to me for?”

You run a hand through your hair, wishing you could shake this man of whatever terrible thoughts are under that silvery hair of his. Instead, you smooth out the edge of the blanket, keeping yourself calm. “Do you truly not have any idea how I feel about you?” You watch, but Astarion gives no reaction or indication of his thoughts. You soften, your heart aching a little. “I......I care about you so much Astarion. And I mean all of you.”

You sigh, dropping your head back against your neck as you think. “I think about you all the time. I worry about if you’re safe or if you’re hungry. I get excited knowing I get to see your face, I long to make you smile. And not the one you always have, the real one where I can see one more fang more than the other because your lips go crooked when you’re trying not to smile.” You drop your gaze back down, looking into the depths of his ruby eyes. “I enjoy the sex, of course. But that’s because I enjoy every part of you. You have so many other amazing qualities.”

Astarion sits very still and very quiet as he listens, only the tips of his ears twitching. He keeps playing the words on loop inside of his head. I care about you. And for the first time, he finds that he has no quips, no easy flattery or flirtation, nor any weapon to get out of this. You are just there, in front of him, your words raw and so saturated with honesty. And it terrifies him.

But deep inside of him, in the heart he likes to pretend he doesn’t have, there's a small glimmer of light. A tiny flame of hope, burning through the cruelty of Cazador and the ghosts of past trysts, making him wonder if he could truly be so desired. To be wanted beyond his body. “...I have spent my life, being a body for people.” He says quietly, his eyes trained on your hands as he speaks. Everything in his rougish logic is cursing him for being vulnerable, but as he lifts his gaze to your eyes, he finds nothing but safety and acceptance. “I do not know what it is to be cared for. But…” He pauses, his eyes softening, round and doe-like. His hands are embarrassingly shaky, but he reaches out, taking yours into them all the same. “I would very much so like to find out.”

A small, sweet smile curls on your face, fanning the hope inside of Astarion’s heart. You hold his hands gently but firmly, like you know he may pull away otherwise. “Then let me ask you again; do you, Astarion, want to continue what I was doing? And I want your genuine answer, not what you think I want.”

Astarion swallows the ball of nerves in his throat, his fingers tightening their grasp on you. “No.” He says, and he feels a surge of emotion within his heart. “No, I don’t.” he says again, astonished at how it feels to say the word. He watches you, but you’re still smiling, still looking at him like you adore him. Astarion wonders if perhaps you really do just care about him. “But I...I don’t want you to leave, either.” He admits, wondering if he’s pushing his luck.

Your smile only grows, and you move a little closer to him. “Would you like me to grab my bedroll? Or...I could even hold you, if you’d like?”

Astarion feels his own lips turn up, the idea of being close to you, warm and comfortable in his bed more enticing than he can express. “Yes please, darling. I’d like to keep you close.”

You nod, and without a single hesitation, you move back over to the bedroll. Astarion feels a little giddy at the prospect, struggling to keep up his cool, nonchalant attitude. He lays down with you, watching your hair sprawl out over his pillow. Your head mirrors his, and for a while, the two of you just gaze into one another’s eyes. Astarion tries to subtly shift closer, pretending like he’s getting comfortable, when in reality he just wants to be closer to you. Knowingly, you smile at him, and you open your arms to invite him in.

He practically swan dives into the junction of your shoulder and chest, nuzzling his head over your heart. He doesn’t even bother trying to hide the smile that pulls at his lips, all but purring as he melts against your side. You curve one arm over his shoulder, cradling his head as it rests over your breast, and you drape the other lightly over the valley of his waist.

The little flame inside of Astarion’s heart bursts into a fire as he feels you hold him, and he gives up any attempts at being cool about your presence. His bicep presses into the underside of your breasts, squishing them a little from how tightly he holds you. His other arm snakes under you, resting at the natural curve of your back. Even with your body fully in his grasp, however, it's still not enough. He draws his knee up, hooking his leg over yours, resting it below your knee. A contented sigh brushed your hair as he relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut. You could see his soft white eyelashes over his cheeks, the skin lightly pink and matching the tips of his ears.

Gently, your hand shifts upwards to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at the hair where it grows out from his skin. The shorter strands loosen from where they were tucked between the two of you, twisting with every moment of your fingers. Astarion almost doesn’t want to believe this could be real, that you truly were so willing to simply lay with him, to hold him. And yet as he listened to the steady beat of your heart, so full of life, he was sure that he had found heaven.

The sky set to burst

The gold and the rust

The colour erupts

You filling my cup

The sun coming up

Like I lived my whole life

Before the first light

(Some bright morning comes)

Like I lived my whole life

Before the first light

Being an elf and a vampire meant that even when Astarion could sleep, he didn’t sleep for very long. It used to bother him, the long, lonely nights where he was left alone with the ghosts of his past. After falling in love with you, however, he adored the mornings. He would linger in the warmth of your shared bed, cuddled as close to you as he possibly could be. He would alternate between stroking your hair, or pressing delicate little kisses over your shoulder and arms. He loved watching you sleep, able to take his time studying your features without you blushing or hiding away.

On the mornings where he was feeling needy, however, he took no issue waking you up.

“My love.” He murmured, pressing a more insistent kiss to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist. He saw no response, however, and so he decided to be more persistent in his efforts. He began trailing his lips over your arm, nibbling at whatever softness was there, making his way up to your neck. He couldn’t resist pressing the point of his nose into the skin of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. Sometimes he felt he could get drunk on your scent alone, the different aromas that collected on your skin melding into a fragrance that was entirely unique, and entirely his to enjoy.

With that thought in mind, he nibbled gently at your neck, and was rewarded with the shifting of your body below his chest as you awoke. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, soft and warm as they ran over his cool skin. He shivered, the sensation only serving to stir up the heat coiling in his lower abdomen. “There she is.” He hums, his tone dripping with satisfaction and barely controlled desire.

“Good morning.” You say sleepily, your body already leaning up into him, not needing to be fully awake to know what it wants. Your touch crawls up to the nape of his neck, brushing the soft curls there at the base. Astarion nearly moans, the simple gesture only adding to the intense need he feels for you.

He moves to get more fully on top of you, knees guiding your thighs apart as he finds his rightful place between them. Still, it's simply not enough, so his long fingers cup the slope where your ass met your thigh, nails digging into the soft flesh with a desperate claim. He knows that you’re still waking up, that he should be more gentle, but the smile on your lips is all the encouragement he needs to know his advancements are welcomed. His hands snap your hips up to meet his, and he presses his body intently against yours, letting you feel just how aroused he is.

A soft moan leaves you, your mind waking up considerably as you feel heat rush straight to your core. You look down your body, seeing the way he’s practically grinding into you, his red eyes dark with lust and love.

“Please.” The request carries an infinite well of want, his voice slightly breathless and husky, brushing invisible fingers along your spine. You nod, and that’s all it takes for Astarion to give into exactly what he’s wanting. Your bed becomes a paradise, both skin and sheets marked as he savors the way he can be this way with you, his past nothing more than a distant whisper.

Heaven didn’t exist for vampires.

But you did. And for Astarion, that was everything.

#i've dived so deep back into my bg3 phase #s.h. you are not helping the delusions #to be fair i'm also the culprit here #astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #Spotify

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balrogballs · 4 days ago

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"Bilbo had assumed accusing an elven lord of Tookishness in his own house would result in swift decapitation and not a decades-long camaraderie that both parties truly cherished, but it seemed that in this regard too, the Lord of Imladris defied expectation."

The Peculiar and the Deranged: Moments between Bilbo Baggins, Elrond Peredhel, and the most unprecedented friendship in Middle-Earth, under the cut!

(aka this friendship wasn’t leaving my mind so I wrote this on my phone and drew this with the 3 pencils I had on a train because I’m incapable of being normal about anything)

on Bilbo's first visit to Imladris, featuring Estel's pet snake:

"You had a rat?" Bilbo blinked, hoping Elrond wouldn't notice the snake he was glaring at had initially been curled around his own neck. "Sir."

"I did not have a rat," corrected Elrond imperiously, looking every bit the lord of the valley. "I would never have a rat, I do not approve of rats. My daughter had a rat. Lothinvar, it was called, the bane of my household. Until this terrible creature wormed its way in. The snake that is, not the child, though Estel is not in my good books at the moment either."

on the return journey, after the death of Thorin Oakenshield:

"What can I do? How can I ever move past this?" Bilbo asked quietly, unsure why exactly he was pouring his heart out to a being six thousand years older than him, who must have faced far greater sorrows.

"Grief," Elrond replied, staring intently at him, "tricks you into thinking it’s all you have left. As though if you let it go, even for a moment, you betray him. You hold onto relics like lifelines, thinking what else is there to keep Thorin alive in your mind? It is a lonely life, Bilbo. It will turn you into the loneliest person in the world."

"Is there no way out?" he gasped, looking up at the elf.

"Start small. A smile, perhaps, when you think of a joke he made," Elrond said steadily, like he was reciting a recipe. “And then, try telling someone about him. Perhaps you could tell me. Something new each time you visit, perhaps.”

“You say it like you have experience of it, sir,” ventured Bilbo. “Like you know it by-heart. Did you get past it?”

“I did,” Elrond’s voice was confident, too confident. Bilbo chose not to probe.

"Thorin's nephews?" Elrond asked later, after Bilbo had gathered himself together, mopped himself up. "They were slain too? Both?"

"Yes, both."

"That is good," Elrond had said with a blank, intense smile etched into his features. "That it was both at once."

"What?" Bilbo sat up in shock, spluttering. "Good? What is wrong with you?"

"Were they not twins? Thorin's nephews I recall were twins, no?"

"Brothers. But what difference does that make? What do you mean good? I beg your pardon, my lord, that's an unhinged thing to say!"

"Oh. I am sorry, Bilbo," Elrond shook his head, the awful, blank expression still on his face. "I am sorry, I spoke without thinking. It is only that I had thought they were twins. Do forgive me, I misunderstood, and spoke out of turn."

"Don't worry," Bilbo sighed, finding to his own surprise that he could manage a laugh. "With names like Fili and Kili, it's frankly a surprise they aren't."

He still thought it was a rather unhinged thing for Elrond to say, but, well — Bilbo Baggins had always been fond of the peculiar and the deranged.

on a visit to the Shire, sharing burnt scones

"Cel was — is — remarkable. She had an exceptional appetite for burnt bread: she would go into the kitchens and instruct the staff to deliberately burn sweetbreads, just because she loved the crunch, apparently."

"She sounds like a Shire lass through and through."

Elrond laughed, shaking his head: "I am certain had I brought her to visit, she would never leave. Though she is not made for the rustic life. A total terror of any creature on four legs. The first time I spotted her she was in a garden, standing on the bench screaming, because she had seen an enormous beetle scuttling around the grass."

"Oh, so it was a damsel in distress situation, eh?"

"Quite the contrary," he admitted. "She threw a pair of gardening scissors right at my head, and called me utterly disgusting for the crime of allowing beetles to exist on my property, and threatened to cut off my hair with the same scissors if she ever came across another one. And mind you, this is Celeborn's daughter, and that soul would have married an Ent if Galadriel hadn't come around."

"Well, that truly is a surprise! Did she not even like dear Arwen's little rat?"

"Oh, you remember the rat!" Elrond's eyes shone, genuinely delighted. "If I remember right, she paid our boys to get rid of it and told Arwen she had sent it to, well, your people."

"I will be certain to invent an illustrious Shire-based family tree for the rat, if your Arwen ever gets around to asking."

on a Yule visit, when Bilbo forwent self-preservation, featuring the same snake:

"Oh, it was not I who named the snake after the Mariner, it was my… other father."

"That's impressive, sir. Quite bohemian."

"One would wish," Elrond muttered darkly, pouring himself more wine, as if all the talk of snakes had driven him to drink. "Estel is friendly with Maglor, who along with Maedhros, raised my brother and I. And I had banned all talk of pet snakes until Maglor showed up last year with a present for Estel: his very own snake named Gil-Estel, which they both insist has nothing to do with the Mariner and is simply a play on the child's name. Which I would have believed, if Maglor did not also own a remarkably ugly cat named Thingol."

"When they say you are Half-Elven, Lord Elrond," Bilbo blurted out, after a short, surprised silence. "Do they mean the other half is merely mortal man, or…?"

"Yes, the other half does indeed refer to mortal men," blinked Elrond in surprise, looking something other than perfectly composed for the very first time. "Do you… suspect otherwise?"

"Oh, I was certain there was a bit of Hobbit somewhere. Just your life, you know, your family, all of it," he waved his hands about the valley. "It's a little… well, Tookish."

"What in the world is a Took?"

on a midnight wander in Minas Tirith on the morning of Aragorn’s wedding to Arwen

When Bilbo came across the figure sat on the steps, he was ridiculously old and his memory even more ridiculously ragged, so he didn’t know why it was that he thought, reflexively, it will turn you into the loneliest person in the world. He didn't say a word though, only reached out a hand and sat beside the figure. Elrond didn’t say a word, only grasped the offered fingers so tightly Bilbo's knuckles turned white, held on as he shook. When it passed, he looked away and apologised, sniffing. "Forgive me, my friend, I do not mean to get melancholic, especially not on a day of such joy. I —"

Bilbo cut across him, too old to deal with the elvish tendency to be completely insufferable.

“How did you get past it the last time? With your brother?”

"I have one of the longest memories in this land, yet I cannot truly remember this one thing," the elf smiled bitterly, tapping his nails on the stone steps. "I slept, I think. A lot. I shrunk out of the world until the sheer pain of it no longer clawed at me. But I cannot do that, Bilbo. Now, I have duties, responsibilities. I have kings to oversee, a valley to hand over and a people for whom I must keep up something of a brave face. There is no longer any room for the small death I was permitted last time."

Elrond sighed. "You must think I am terribly privileged, or that I have too grandiose an idea about my place in this world."

"No, I was just thinking how unfair it is," said Bilbo quietly. "So unfair that for you there is a last time and now a this time."

Elrond, in tears again, was looking at him with an almost obscene gratefulness, as if Bilbo had done him some enormous kindness and not something any friend would do, looked at him in a way that made the hobbit think again, inexplicably, the loneliest person in the world.

“I’m sorry,” said the lord, catching his friend’s expression. “You should not be h-“

"Shut up," Bilbo huffed, looking truly offended, rolling his eyes. "You're insufferable, do you know that? Stop acting like you've jumped off a damned cliff before my eyes, Elrond. I'm starting to think elven history would have been a lot less bloody and tragic had more of you — and I mean that Fëanor, mainly, but the rest of you too — appreciated the value of a good cry. Emotional constipation is just as bad as the real thing, you know. And you can be sure I'll tell old Fëanor that to his face when I see him."

Elrond blinked, then laughed. "Oh, Bilbo, I am glad you found your way back to Imladris this year, I truly am."

"And I, in turn,” Bilbo found himself saying, cursing the fact that his memory decided to make its wondrous reappearance that night. “Am equally glad our mutual friend Aragorn tried to bribe me to put his pet snake in your office that very first day."

on a ship in the sundering seas, far too early

"Suffering from a spot of morning sickness, are we?"

"My apologies, Bilbo," Elrond stumbled back into Bilbo's cabin from the privy, looking only slightly less green than he had when he left it. "Please do not make any sudden movements."

"I am only pleased that you and I are now such intimate friends that you feel comfortable enough to throw up your breakfast in my bathroom. Maybe you should come around and do it every morning to wake me up, like the world’s most useless cockerel."

"It was not by choice, as you very well know," Elrond muttered, downing a swig of ground herbs and honey from a bottle in his pocket. "My mortal heritage does, unfortunately, mean there are some weaknesses to the constitution. Perhaps this is why it was Elros who took ship for Numenor and not I."

"Well, that, and you couldn't resist micromanaging six thousand years of Middle-Earth now, could you?" chortled Bilbo, settling down in a plush chair and laying his walking stick by his side. "Mortality is all well and good, but heaven forbid you lose a chance to develop domestic policy over the continental grain trade. Besides, and I don't want to be the one who brings it up, but…"

"Elbereth, what now?"

"Your father was known as the Mariner, you know," Bilbo snorted. "As in, the seafaring sort, no? It would truly be such a shame if someone were to… write a poem about the mis-inheritance of seasi—"

"Write that poem, Bilbo Baggins, and I will personally petition Ulmo to turn you into seaweed."

in the house of Elrond in Aman, with the chattiest woman Bilbo has ever encountered (which is saying something)

"I only burned that layer because you made me do it, mind you. You really are as remarkable as he said you were," Bilbo blurted out as she picked out pink sugared biscuits with a dark crust that he knew to be from burning. He had even spread jam on them for a second layer of sweetness. "Mad and irritating, to be frank, but remarkable. I am truly glad to know you, Celebrìan — not as Elrond's wife, but, well."

He gestured at her weakly, meant the peculiar and the deranged. She understood.

"Yes, I do pity all the folk that know me as Elrond's dead wife," she wrinkled her nose, sitting down by him and grabbing a second burnt biscuit. "And considering my poor husband's approach to grieving, and all the laments Lindir said he's made him compose, that is what most end up knowing me as. It is quite a pity, I am as you say, delightful. Oh, Bilbo, this is amazing! So wonderful, I didn't think pastries could be this sweet!”

"No, not when your cheapskate of a husband is in charge of the rations," he said in a carrying whisper. "In the Shire though, we know how to live."

"Who are we referring to as a cheapskate then?"

"The elf who implemented a sugar tax in his valley," said Celebrian dryly. "You may know him. Have a biscuit!"

"I would truly rather nail myself to the birch," he said dryly, picking up a piece of bread. "I do not get the logic behind oversweetening victuals. Impractical, unnecessary."

"Oh," Celebrían clapped her hands to her mouth. "Of course! The Lord Elrond grew up amidst the War of Wrath! Surely, he has not mentioned that to you, has he? He never does!"

"Ah, that he was raised in military conditions by a couple of kinslayers?" chuckled Bilbo. "No, not at all. Not once. He certainly never brought it up in our first ever conversation. Should we ask him to expand?"

#lord of the rings #elrond peredhel #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #celrond #lotr #the hobbit #balrogballs writes #balrogballs art

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ihopeiexplode · 5 months ago

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Householdhusband!Sukuna x CEO!Reader (+ some dad!sukuna too)

A/N: idk how u guys like my word bcs ys there so many of u begging me to upload something 😞😞(ily guys!!!)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

Who absolutely refused to be a stay-at-home husband. Why should you be the one working when he's a perfect provider? Sure your gonna inherit a company but still!

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who didn't even know how to do a simple household task, so why not turn to uraume for help!! sure he brunt down the kitchen one too many times in the process but hey none perfect right!...

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who saw your apron in your closet and decided to use it despite it being too 'girly' for his taste, why did he use it? he loves how comfy and multi-functional it is, plus he also like how it reminds him of you (refer to the cover pic for the ref!!)

(thx rina for this hc!! ^)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who actually turned out to be a good cook after countless trial and errors with uraume...did he like doing it? no.

(yes he does he just doesnt wanna admit it bc its sukuna duh!!)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who always cooks your favorite desserts/foods when you had a long day at work, he sees you upset the moment you walk through that door? he's imminently rushing to the kitchen grabbing the ingredients he needs

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who loves bringing you a whole feast when u wake up on every Saturday and Sunday, you're one providing for him plus being a CEO is hard work so why not reward you for it right?

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who brought you the lunch you left on your first day of your job and the moment he stepped into the building, everyone thought he CEO instead of you, i mean he screams CEO vibes doesn't he?

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who hates being teased by jin whenever he comes over to visit, sure the first thing he sees is sukuna in the kitchen wearing a pretty pink apron...

"You look pretty in pink, matches your hair" "ill kick you out the house if i hear one more word from you" "Shouldn't it be 'y/ns' house seeing how she's the provider?" woah i wonder how jin ended up out side your house in the cold!!! wonder who did that guys!!!

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who somehow convinced you to have a child with him...how? no clue!!

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who always fight with your child for your attention, you could be back home from work and you see a little mini sukuna and a large sukuna running towards you, with the mini on your leg and the large on your right as they push and pull you from one side to another

(sukuna ends up winning cause hes up against a child why wouldn't he)

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who doesn't let ANYONE in 'his' kitchen mf like Gordan Ramsay in there, the kitchen is quite literally his sanctuary and won't let ANYONE in regardless of what you are to him, but maybe he'll make expectations just for you and you ONLY.

and guess whos blacklisted from the kitchen? no other than your child seeing how they always play around with sukunas ingredients every time he cooks

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who gets anxious whenever you try helping him cook.. what if you mess up?.. sure he appreciates the fact your helping but he rather do it himself so its quicker and perfect!!

"y/n...your doing it wrong." "move. let me do it." "you didnt put enough of it." "y'know what just go...the kitchen might end up burning because of you." thats alot coming from someone who burnt it down 22th times whenever he tried cooking for the first time....

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who surprisingly gets along with other moms when he started parenting sessions, he even got some great tips on how to approach you whenever your feeling down did i mention he turned out to be great at gossiping to? And of course Sukuna always updates you on the latest gossip despite not knowing who the gossips about anyway..

Now you have random beef with a girl named Eleanor..

"Wait so if shes upset I shouldn't try comforting or helping her?? How does that make sense??"

"trust us. It'll make things worse. Only help her when she asks to and only comfort her when it really gets bad...buttt when she's on her period there's some exceptions to that rule"

"gosh women so confusing for what reason..."

—

"did you guys hear about Eleanor??"

"which Eleanor?"

"the one who has a kid with her husband that isn't even his"

"eugh. Her... Could you believe she tried striking up a conversation with me while I was out shopping? Don't get too close to me woman don't wanna get infected by whatever Infection she has going on in her mouth"

"Right! Seriously that girl has some real bad breath..."

"did I also mention I saw her out with another man while shopping?"

"no way. Was it Tobias?.."

"Xavier."

"THE BROTHER OF HER HUSBAND OUT OF ALL PEOPLE??"

(based of an actual convo I heard while I was in the mall🔥🔥)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who HATES. the submissive allegations he gets whenever someone finds out your the man and provider in your relationship

"hey Sukuna since y/ns providing does that mean your the bottom in bed??"

"jin stfu you should NOT be speaking.. acting as if Kaori isn't the provider..."

"that's a different story..."

"this is why I should've eaten you in womb."

"I don't like that joke seeing how you actually almost ate me in it.."

"exactly.

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

Permanent Taglist: @megumisfave

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna

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galaxysupreme17 · 14 days ago

Text

Lure of the Moonstone

Y/n = Your name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader!

The woods surrounding Westview were a haven for Y/n, especially on days when her curiosity felt like an itch she couldn’t scratch indoors. The towering trees swayed gently, their leaves whispering secrets only the wind could carry. The air was crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of fallen leaves. Her favorite time to explore was the late afternoon light casting golden streams through the canopy.

Her boots crunched softly on the path as she meandered deeper into the woods. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the quiet solitude. But something drew her off the trail—a faint glimmer in the underbrush.

Kneeling down, she pushed aside the foliage to reveal a beautiful moonstone, its surface smooth and glowing faintly as if it held a piece of the moon itself. Enchanted by its beauty, Y/n couldn’t resist. She reached out and picked it up.

At first, it felt warm and comforting, as if the stone were greeting her. But the warmth quickly turned into something else. A sharp, invasive pull, like a siphon draining her very essence. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back, clutching the stone as if letting go would somehow make it worse.

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her vision blurring as the world around her tilted. The light from the stone pulsed erratically, its glow now menacing. The last thing she saw before darkness overtook her was the towering trees above, swaying as if mocking her.

In the Harkness-Vidal household, Agatha was in the middle of an intricate spell preparation when her connection to Y/n flared sharply. It wasn’t unusual for her to feel her daughter’s magic—a constant hum in her awareness. But this sudden, violent pull made her drop the herb she’d been grinding.

Her heart raced. “Y/n?” she called aloud, stepping away from her work.

Silence answered her.

The second wave hit her harder, a tug deep in her chest that sent panic coursing through her veins. She didn’t stop to think. Grabbing her coat, she used her magic to track the source of the disturbance.

When she arrived at the old oak grove, her heart plummeted. Y/n lay slumped against the tree’s roots, her body unnaturally still. The cursed moonstone rested in her hand, its glow faint but insidious.

Agatha knelt beside her daughter, her hands trembling as she cupped Y/n’s face. “No, no, no. Y/n, sweet girl, wake up. Mama’s here.”

Her voice cracked as she pried the moonstone from Y/n’s grasp. The moment her fingers touched it, a jolt of dark energy shot up her arm. She hissed in pain and dropped the cursed object, her magic flaring in defense. The stone pulsed threateningly on the ground, but her focus was on Y/n.

“Stay with me, baby,” she murmured, gathering Y/n into her arms. The girl’s skin was pale, her breaths shallow, and her normally vibrant magic was barely a flicker.

Agatha pressed her forehead against Y/n’s, her violet magic flaring around them as she channeled her own energy into her daughter. It was a delicate process, sustaining Y/n without overloading her weakened system.

One hand still glowing with magic, Agatha fumbled for her phone with the other and called Rio.

“Rio,” she said, her voice tight with fear. “I need you. The oak grove. Hurry.”

Rio arrived just as twilight began to creep over the woods, her basket of supplies swinging at her side. She spotted Agatha immediately, her wife’s figure hunched protectively over Y/n’s limp form.

“Agatha!” Rio called, rushing to their side. Her breath hitched when she saw Y/n’s pale face. “What happened?”

“That,” Agatha spat, nodding toward the moonstone lying nearby. “It’s cursed. It’s been draining her magic. I’m keeping her stable but can’t break it alone.”

Rio’s jaw tightened as she took in the scene. Without a word, she set her basket down and pulled out a sprig of rosemary, a piece of quartz, and a vial of salt.

“Hold her,” Rio said firmly. “I’ll take care of the stone.”

Agatha nodded, cradling Y/n closer. “I’ve got you, my little moonbeam,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Rio knelt beside the moonstone, arranging her materials in a circle around it. Her lips moved in a low chant, the green glow of her magic spreading like roots through the soil. The moonstone resisted, pulsing violently as if it were alive. But Rio was unrelenting, her voice rising in strength and command.

The stone shuddered, its light faltering. It cracked with one final surge of magic, then crumbled into ash. The curse dissipated, leaving the grove eerily quiet.

Rio slumped back, breathing heavily. “It’s done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha looked down at Y/n, relief flooding her as her daughter stirred faintly in her arms. “Y/n? Can you hear me?”

“Mama…” Y/n’s voice was soft, but her eyes fluttered open, searching for Agatha’s face.

“I’m here, baby,” Agatha said, tears spilling over as she kissed Y/n’s forehead. “I’ve got you.”

Back at the house, Agatha carried Y/n to the master bedroom, her arms never loosening their grip. She eased onto the bed, propping herself against the headboard with Y/n curled in her lap.

“Mama…” Y/n murmured, her voice weak but full of trust.

“I’m right here,” Agatha whispered, brushing her fingers gently through Y/n’s hair. “You’re safe now, my love.”

Rio entered moments later with a warm mug of tea. She set it on the nightstand, climbed onto the bed, and settled beside Agatha. Her eyes softened as she took in the sight of her wife holding their daughter so protectively.

“She’ll be okay,” Rio said gently, leaning her head against Agatha’s shoulder. “She’s strong, just like her mamá.”

Agatha didn’t respond immediately, focusing entirely on Y/n’s even breaths. After a moment, she sighed. “I can’t lose her, Rio.”

“You won’t,” Rio said firmly. She shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Agatha’s waist. “Mi Vida, she’s safe. You saved her.”

Agatha’s shoulders trembled, and tears began to fall silently. She leaned into Rio, who pressed a kiss to her head. “Mi amor,” Rio murmured softly, running her fingers soothingly through Agatha’s hair. “She’s here. We’re all here.”

The room fell quiet as Agatha’s tears slowed. She leaned her head back against Rio’s shoulder, her arms still tightly around Y/n. Rio’s hand continued its comforting motions, her presence a grounding force.

Hours passed like this, the three of them cocooned in the safety of their shared love. As Y/n drifted deeper into sleep, Agatha whispered, “I’ll always protect you, my little moonbeam.”

Rio kissed her wife’s head again, whispering, “Siempre,” before tightening her embrace. Together, they watched over Y/n, the light of the moon streaming through the window, a quiet reminder of the bond that held them together.

#x reader #reader insert #agatha x daughter! reader #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario x daughter!reader #rio vidal #agatha harkness #agatha all along season 1 #agatha harkness x daughter!reader

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drvscarlett · 5 months ago

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About You Pt 9

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: were getting a lot of perspectives for this chapter. i have been sick for the past week and i couldn't upload this. i hope everyone enjoys

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2012, Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit

If anyone asks, Mark was not looking for his sister. He was just merely concerned that Jenson is running around with a new press officer that seems to be too flustered to know what she is doing. He had an urge to ask the British man if Y/N has been sacked but he probably looks like a hypocrite if he criticized Jenson of his decisions.

He lets out a heavy sigh.

It was weird to not see Y/N during his home race. He knows that everything was a shitstorm ever since he removed her from her position and said a lot of awful things. The winter break gave him a lot to think about especially with the new emptiness in the Webber household. Mark was hoping that this home race will be a way for them to reconcile.

"Mate, are you alright?" Nico appeared out of the blue "You seem distracted"

"Oh you just caught me in a bad timing"Mark shrugged.

"For a second I thought you were looking for Y/N"Nico is not blind, he noticed the way Mark has been eyeing the McLaren garage "You should know that she will be missing this race"

"She'll miss it?"

Y/N never misses this race, its their home turf.

"Yeah, Lewis told me yesterday. She is currently settling to her new apartment in London and McLaren gave her some time off"Nico informs.

For Mark it was so weird to hear how he have been missing key important things in Y/N's life when he used to be so updated with every little detail in her life. He couldn't hide his emotions because he knows it was all his fault.

As someone who have been long friends with the two siblings, Nico had a sense of the regrets that Mark is feeling. He gave a gentle pat on Mark's shoulder.

"You should own up and apologize to her when she gets back"Nico suggested "For what its worth,you are still her brother and she can never hold a grudge against you"

"Even when I say stupid shit?"

"Even then"Nico was confident. The Webber siblings are thick as thieves just like him and Lewis, surely they can find a way to forgive each other.

"Here, Lewis will probably kill me but this is her new cell. Give her a message or a call"Nico offered.

Nico pulled out a paper and borrowed a pen from a nearby staff. He scribbled messily a set of new numbers with Y/N's name. Mark's eyebrows furrowed because it was another thing that he didn't even know. It was his fault again as he never tried to reach out to her again.

"I might get blocked"Mark weakly jokes.

"I mean I would block you too with everything you said to me"

That was a good thing about Nico, he is the type of person who will speak his mind and doesn't sugarcoat things. Nico heard from Y/N herself about the things Mark said and it was surely something painful.

"but you have to start doing something to earn her forgiveness" Nico added.

Mark could only hope for that. As the two drivers walked back to the media pen and talk about the start of the new season, Mark was still thinking about the number. The weight of the paper seems to be heavier than anything in this world right now. But nothing is heavier than the feeling of missing a very important person for this Grand Prix.

2012, Sepang International Circuit

By Malaysia, Y/N was back on track. It was another rainy session for the race and honestly it didn't surprise her anymore. Malaysia was quite known for the sudden switch of weather from a good hot summer to a turbulent wet race.

But the weather isn't the only giving mixed signals over the race weekends.

Y/N watches from the McLaren garage how Sebastian seems to be flirting with another reporter. She knew the man was quite charming as she have been a subject to her flirtatious and cheeky advances in the past. The growing popularity of Sebastian as a world champion seems to pave a way for him to be confident to do that to other girls.

There was this ugly feeling bubbling in her chest and she didn't like it one bit.

"You're staring" Jenson, ever the nosy one, commented "Keep on staring and you might burn a hole at the back of their head"

"I am not staring"

"Oh yeah, I stand corrected. You are glaring"Jenson corrects.

The female Webber only rolled her eyes as Jenson erupted in chuckles. She crossed her arms because she doesn't see anything laughable in this situation. Honestly, she pities Britta for this whole PR mess that Sebastian might intertwine himself into.

"Is he always like this" Y/N wondered out loud.

"Not so much"Jenson replied "I still think that I'm the biggest slag of the grid"

"No one can ever beat you for being a PR nightmare"Y/N agrees.

"Yep but atleast you are well compensated for all my troubles"

Jenson finds himself slinging an arm over Y/N as they share an umbrella together.

For onlookers, there is this certain chemistry between Jenson and Y/N. Even if they denied it several times, they are always seen close like this with one another that people cannot help but speculate.

The German driver who was previously enthralled into a conversation immediately saw the duo from his peripheral view. His face scrunched up from the closeness,do they have to stand so close like that? And what was so funny that they have to be laughing like that?

Probably the last straw for Sebastian was realizing how Y/N was not wearing a jacket. Given the rainy circumstances, she might catch a cold if she continues in that state.

"Would you excuse me a moment"Sebastian left the reporter.

He made a beeline towards the McLaren garage and took off his rain jacket. He knows that the Red Bull brand is all over the place but he'll be damned if he lets Y/N stay there without any warm clothes.

"Hey there Sebastian"Jenson greeted.

"You need warmer clothes"Sebastian ignored the greeting as he placed the jacket over Y/N.

"Are you insane? This is a Red Bull jacket?" Y/N was bewildered.

"You forgot your jacket, you need one and I'm lending you mine"Sebastian states.

"But I'm a McLaren employee, be rea-"

"I'm sure McLaren doesn't appreciate you missing out any races" Sebastian said

"But Sebastian-"

"I'm not taking that back"

"Sebastian!"

The Red Bull driver was off running with his umbrella. Of course, Y/N followed in suit with her newly acquired rain jacket and an umbrella borrowed from Jenson.

Jenson scratches his head as a bystander. He doesn't know how much longer does these two have to give mixed signals before they say something or do something. At first, this whole thing was cute but now its frustrating because its been years.

"Still no progress with those two?"Lewis asked.

"Not a thing" Jenson sighs.

2012, Silverstone Circuit

Heike Vettel has long resigned that she cannot control her son's decisions in life. From an early age, Sebastian was the one calling shots in his life and she would simply support his son's decision on things. However, if there was one thing that Heike wanted to dabble into Sebastian's affairs was in his love life especially when it concerns a particular Y/N Webber.

The first time that Y/N was mentioned in the household, Heike already knew that she was a very special lady in Sebastian's life. It was rare for Sebastian to talk about something other than racing so his constant chatters about Y/N piqued Heike's interest.

They don't go to races often so she haven't received the opportunity to meet the girl but an invitation email to celebrate Sebastian's birthday paved the way.

"This is such a wonderful surprise Christian"Heike noted as she enter the restaurant with the family.

The designs were simple but it was littered with bits of things that could be related to Sebastian Vettel. The designation of the tables has also been well thought of because Heike noticed some familiar childhood friends placed on the table.

"Thank you for doing this for Sebastian, my family is very grateful for everything"

The team principal grinned and raised his hands as if he is taking a step back from the compliments.

"I may have funded this restaurant reservation and your flight tickets but I'm not the one who planned this all together"Christian admitted.

"Then who did?"

"That would be the lady over there, Y/N"

Y/N was busy with her clipboard and she seems to be all over the place doing her last minute checks. She was just as organized and reliable as Sebastian told Heike.

"It was her idea from the start because the British grand prix is in a few days and its Sebastian's birthday" Christian further explained "She made sure to choose the food which is a lot of Sebastian's favorites, the invites, and making sure this whole thing is a secret"

"She seems to be an interesting lady"Heike muttered, gazing at the hardworking girl.

"You should get to know her before Sebastian arrives, he is quite fond of her" Christian urged.

She took this as a sign to get closer to the girl. Heike immediately made her way to Y/N and politely tapped her in the shoulder to get her attention.

"Miss Y/N Webber, correct?"

At first, Y/N seems confused but the facial structures was so familiar and her face suddenly brightened in recognition.

"It's so good to finally meet you Mrs. Vettel" Y/N hugged "I have heard so many great things about you and I'm so excited that you could join us"

Y/N was warm and bright, there was a certain aura that clearly makes her a likeable individual. Certainly, she was someone that Heike didn't mind being a daughter-in-law someday.

"Please just Heike, Mrs Vettel is too formal"

"If you insist Heike" Y/N smiles "Oh is there anything you need? I hope the accommodations are comfortable"

Caring and attentive, another factor that Heike pointed out in her head.

"I would just thank you dearie for being so appreciative and doing everything for Sebastian. This takes great effort to arrange and as his mother I really appreciate that"Heike explained.

"Heike this isn't even a fraction of what Sebastian did for me" Y/N counters.

But Heike knew. Every time that Sebastian was doing something for Y/N, he would run it through his mother to make sure that he could get a female perspective about his plans.

"I'm really glad he has you in his life, thank you"Heike reiterates.

As Sebastian's mother, she couldn't help but worry about Sebastian as he races in different parts of the world. She doesn't have any idea if he is being taken care of or if he has someone he can count on. But seeing Y/N in the flesh and confirming that she is everything that Heike had heard from the stories, she felt relieved.

A grateful smile graced Y/N's face as Heike pulled her in a hug.

Heike could only pray that her son finally grows some balls to ask the young lady out. She would literally smack Sebastian if he missed out the chance.

2012, Interlagos

It was another tough season for Mark and he couldn't even push for celebrations right now. He had found himself hiding behind the Red Bull garage to sulk for a bit before he had to go to the media pen and put on a face of sportsmanship to celebrate his teammate.

He opens his phone and his fingers refreshed the texts but no new messages were out for him.

Another frustrated growl comes out of him as he messed up his hair.

"Sebastian I have something to tell you"there was a whisper that floated around.

Mark could only squint as he made out a figure of a woman with his teammate. He have seen the girl before in the garage and Sebastian introduced him as a friend but Mark couldn't remember her name.

"Can't this thing wait Hanna?" Sebastian's voice was hushed like he didn't want anyone else to know about their conversation.

Mark knew that this was a private conversation but his curiosity is getting the best of him. He crouched lower as he tried to get a better view and hearing range of the conversation.

"I like you Sebastian and I have loved you for so long"

The usual confident and flirty Sebastian seems to be taken a back. He seems as frozen as Mark who is now regretting his decision to eavesdrop on them.

"I know I may be ruining years of friendship but I cannot hide it anymore, I really like you" she stated "You have always treated me so well and special so tell me I'm not the only one feeling that way"

"Hanna you are a nice person-"

And there was a pair lips of together. Mark finally decided that he has invaded too much of their privacy and left the couple to settle their own devices.

Meanwhile a group was huddled on the other side of the paddock. The drivers were like schoolgirls with the way that they are giggling.

"I'm being serious here guys, why are you guys acting like this"Y/N wanted to hide with a pillow. It was a bad idea of her to tell Lewis, Nico, and Jenson that she likes Sebastian.

"Honestly, we were making bets on when and who would be the first to confess" Jenson laughed.

"You bet on us?"

"Yes and let's just say we are 200 euros richer"Nico confirmed.

"Who else is on this bet?"Y/N groaned.

"Michael and Christian said that Sebastian would grow the balls. Martin also bets on Sebastian."Lewis enumerates "Don't worry, Niki and David believes in you"

If Y/N could only sink in her chair and disappear, she already would. She couldn't believe that everyone is up on their business all this time.

She could only just hope that she won't be as embarrassed as this when she finally confessed to Sebastian.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #sebastian vettel angst #sebastian vettel fluff #about you series

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cokou · 5 months ago

Text

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

372 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 2 years ago

Note

Pleasee could we have Ruby's favourite uncle, Pierre, babysit her and its just chaos

uncle duties | pierre gasly

uncle pierre <3

Ruby couldn’t wait to see her uncle Pierre. She had a whole list of activities she and Pierre were going to do from making brownies to playing outside in the backyard. Y/n and Charles had a doctors appointment to get an update on their baby. Arthur and Lorenzo were busy and Pascale was working so Pierre was their only option.

“Uncle P!” Ruby ran to Pierre as he entered the Leclerc household.

“Ma beauté! Ready to spend the day with me?” Pierre picked up the girl.

“Can I paint your nails? Papa lets me do his.” Ruby asked.

“Good luck mate.” Charles said to Pierre. “Say bye to maman and the baby. We’ll be back soon, okay? Be good for your uncle or I’m selling your toys.”

“Bye maman! Bye baby! Bye papa!”

Pierre and Ruby waved the couple goodbye and once they were gone, Ruby asked Pierre to put her down. “Okay baby Leclerc, what do you want to do?” Pierre followed Ruby to her playroom.

“Maman and papa said I have to practice french. You’re French. What do you say? Say french things! What’s my name in French?” Ruby excitedly asked.

“It’s Rubis. But how about we practice the easy words. Je t’aime, have you heard that before?” Pierre asked.

Ruby nodded. “Papa says it to maman all the time. But then maman says it to papa and I heard her say it to the phone but papa was next to her so she wasn’t saying it to him! I don’t know who she said it to!” She ranted as if her life depended on it.

“She said it?!” Pierre gasped. He knew how little kids were, they overshared and exaggerated pretty much everything so he played along.

“Yes! And papa didn’t say anything! Do you say it?”

Pierre nodded. He noticed some toys scattered around Ruby’s playroom so he picked up a small replica of Charles’ Ferrari and rolled it around the floor. “Yeah, I say it to my friends and family and your Aunt Kika.”

Ruby gasped. “I love Aunt Kika.” She whispered it like a secret.

“Me too.”

“No, I love her.” Ruby frowned when she heard Pierre. “I think she loves me more. She told me.”

“Lies. I love her more. She’s dating me.” Pierre felt silly for even arguing with a child but he wanted to see where the conversation would go. “And I kiss her.”

“Ew.” Ruby mumbled. “I can do a flip. Want to see?” Ruby stepped aside and cleared a path so she wouldn’t hurt herself during her landing. She then did her ‘flip’, but Pierre still clapped for her.

“Wow! Who taught you that?” The Frenchman asked.

“I saw it on tv. Papa told me to not do it because I could get hurt but I know how to do it. I’m going to do it again.” She announced but Pierre stopped her. Charles would kill him if Ruby ended up with a broken bone.

“Come on, let’s go see if your parents left you any snacks.” Pierre grabbed Ruby’s hand and led her to the kitchen. Once he reached the refrigerator, he opened it and saw pudding cups next to a container of cut up fruits. Ruby spotted the pudding cups and pointed to them.

“Maman gives me those.” Ruby said, hoping Pierre would give her one. “I like them.”

Pierre grabbed the container and closed the door. “Fruit is better.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone. Your maman and papa eat fruit and they love it.” Pierre told the girl. “Here, eat it.” He opened the container and picked up a cut up strawberry.

“You eat it.” Ruby pushed the strawberry towards Pierre’s mouth.

“If I eat it will you eat one too?” Ruby nodded. Then Pierre bit into the strawberry. “Okay, now you eat it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Ruby didn’t end up eating anything so the uncle and niece went outside to play. “The neighbor has a pretty dog. Her name is Harry.”

“Harry? Who names a dog Harry?” Pierre chuckled.

“Or bailey, I think it’s bailey. But I like Harry better.”

“Bailey is a better name.” Pierre watched “You want me to push you on the swing?”

“No, you get on.” Ruby suggested. “I’m strong. Papa said so.”

Pierre walked to the swing and debated whether or not the swing would be able to hold him. “Are you sure? I’m not small.”

“You’re giant. Get on!” Ruby raised her voice then gasped when she realized she had yelled. “Please?” She smiled at Pierre.

“Okay but if I break it I’m not buying you a new one.” Pierre said hoping that would change her mind.

“It’s okay, papa can use his number card to buy me a new one.” Ruby had different names for normal everyday things so she referred to Charles’ credit card as a number card.

Pierre got onto the swing and waited for Ruby to push him. He felt a her tiny hands on his back, but no matter how much she pushed, he wasn’t moving.

“I thought you were strong?” Pierre teased.

“I am! You’re big!” Ruby groaned. She wiped away some fake sweat and returned to pushing. “Why can’t you be like Yuki? He’s small.”

“I’m sorry, at least I can reach the top shelf? Can you do that?”

“I can, I just don’t want to.” Ruby walked to the other side of the swing to face Pierre. “I’m taller than a girl in my ballet class and she’s sometimes mean to me.”

Pierre listened to her. Someone was being mean to his niece? That was unacceptable.

“What’s her name?” Pierre asked.

“Sarah. And she pulled my hair one time!”

“And do your papa and maman know?”

Ruby nodded. “Yes and Sarah’s maman knows but she didn’t want to talk to my maman. She wanted to talk to papa. And then she touched his arm and smiled at him.”

“Oh no, and did your maman see?”

If someone had told young Pierre that in a few years he would be gossiping with his best friend’s daughter then he would call them crazy.

“No, but I did and I told maman.”

After more gossip was shared in the backyard, it was time to go back into the house. Ruby raced to the house after Pierre told her that the first one to the door was the winner. Once she was inside, the doorbell rang. Pierre was still outside so she decided to open it to reveal a blonde girl with the neighbor’s door.

“Oh, hi, little girl. Is your papa home?” The girl asked. The Leclerc’s neighbor was an old woman whose name was Patricia. She was nice and always gave Ruby cookies and let her pet Bailey the dog.

“Why do you have Bailey?” Ruby asked completely ignoring the girl’s question.

“She’s my grandma’s dog. I’m visiting her.” She replied. “Is that your papa?” She pointed to Pierre, who had finally come inside.

“No, that’s my uncle. Who are you?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby, don’t open the door when I’m not here,” Pierre scolded his niece. “Can I help you?” He asked the blonde girl. Ruby didn’t like her one bit. She reminded Ruby of Sarah, the mean ballerina from her class.

“My grandma was talking about Ruby and how much she loves Bailey so I just thought it would be fun if I brought Bailey here to play.”

“She asked for papa.” Ruby told Pierre.

“Well I haven’t introduced myself to your papa and I wanted to be nice.” The girl replied. “Ruby said you’re her uncle? I didn’t know Ruby had such an attractive uncle.”

Pierre cringed at the girl’s attempt to flirt. “Well sorry to say this but we were actually going to the store.”

Ruby grabbed Pierre’s hand. “Yeah, and we’re going to see Aunt Kika! And she loves my uncle.”

Pierre tried to hold in his laugh. “Nice to meet you.” Pierre told the girl and locked the house with the key that Charles had given him a year ago. Ruby and Pierre walked to the car lightly laughing at the whole situation.

“Are we going to get ice cream?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, you deserve it.”

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