#me and mari decided he would live and damn it he is
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vis ending in dorn.e for me is so poetic because we are told he would've crossed the narrow sea in a heartbeat had he known of ariann.e and the wedding pact. viser.ys having someone like arianne around who is both ambitious yes, but also rational at times would ease him into settling. viserys not dying and actually getting an arc to heal from his abusive childhood and trauma during the war to making his sister endure some of that trauma by then, repenting by being there at the end.
#( ♛ ) ⸻ the beggar king : out.#i do get not everyone likes viserys#but there is so much depth inside of him and i think partially that's all harry lloyd. fault through his acting#the facial features and desperation he conveys in his reading and lines#he is so consumed by his desire to go home that he forgets he still has a sister and sees her as a pawn#dany mentioning how his mind broke when he had to sell the last of rhaella's jewels pickpoints the start of a mind shattering#anyways i love him and he needs to repent and all#me and mari decided he would live and damn it he is#arianne is holding him by the neck but he is alive
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Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.
So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!
My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.
I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."
I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.
Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.
Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.
Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.
A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.
Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.
As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.
If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.
Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.
Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.
Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.
And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.
and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!
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I'm curious, how did wade and logan meet isekai gremlin reader? Did reader just fall from the sky and landed beside the two unharmed? We know wade breaks the fourth evrytime because his sentient and logan had seen worse sp if reader just straight up tells the two that they are from another universe the two would just😐👍okay. They woulb be ubothered by it
Wade and Logan first met you when they were having shawarma. It was a nice day, nothing could possibly go wrong until…
‘Ow fuck!’ You groaned as you got up from a seemingly never ending fall through the void, only to realised that you didn’t hurt as badly as you thought you did when you went to run your arm. ‘Don’t know why I said ow fuck when that didn’t actually hurt being with.’ You then murmur to yourself as you looked up to see the portal you fell from close assumably forever.
‘Did god kick you out of heaven little angel? Did you do something naughty? Blasphemous even?’ Wade asked, swallowing his last bit of shawarma, wiping himself down before he let Dogpool run your feet as you smiled down at the cutes dog you’ve ever seen. Some would say she’s ugly, the most ugliest dog they’ve ever met, but to you she’s perfect with her lopsided tongue and scruffy appearance.
‘He fucking wishes but no, I’m not an angel nor did I come from heaven.’ You told Wade as you picked up Dogpool, unbothered by the excessive licking to the face, you’d like to call it her showing you her unconditional love and affection.
‘Then where did you come from?’ Logan asked, completely unfazed by this and the dog licking your face excessively.
You shrug, not caring whether you sounded nuts for saying it. ‘Another dimension.’ You proclaimed.
Wade and Logan looked at each other before looking at you again.
‘Ah! Another overused and abused Isekai trope fanfic, like that’s surprising to anyone reading this.’ Wade then said to no one in particular.
‘The fuck is that supposed to mean scrotum face?’ You replied, holding Dogpool closer in your arms when you noticed that Wade was planing on taking her off your hands, no one was going to take this cute doggy from your hands, you’ve only met this cutie and you’d kill everyone before killing yourself if anything happened to her.
‘Look bub, Wade over here talks out of his ass, so it’s best not to take anything he says seriously.’ Logan answered for you as he got up from his seat groaning. He’s been alive for far too long to act surprised at anything at this point. A pig could sprout wings or suddenly talk and Logan wouldn’t find this out of the ordinary, that or he just was too tired and perpetually annoyed at everything to feel anything outside of that.
‘Now that our meet cute is over and done with, papa is going to need his little Mary Poppins back now.’ Wade reached out to grab Dogpool but you took a step back, still holding her close to your chest.
‘No.’ You told him. ‘She’s my Mary Poppins now.’
Wade gasps ‘are we entering our enemies to friends to lovers, 300k words, slow burn phase?’
You looked to Logan who only shrugs his shoulders. ‘I’ve got not a fucking clue what he just said just now.’ You then looked back to Wade and then little Dogpool, who was still licking your face, before deciding to bolt down the street. ‘YOU’ll never take me alive!’
You could hear Wade and Logan simultaneously cursing as they proceeded to follow after you, and at one point you could’ve sworn you heard Wade yell, ‘MY BABY! PAPA AND PAPA ARE COMING SWEETIE DONT WORRY!’ Before hearing Logan hit him in the back of the head saying, ‘damn it Wade! I ain’t no damn papa!’
You couldn’t help but laugh as you, with Dogpool in your arms, continued to run as far as you could with no real destination in mind, maybe this new dimension wouldn’t be so bad if this is how you got to live everyday. You couldn’t mind it one bit.
#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu imagine#mcu x y/n#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#marvel x y/n#deadpool x you#deadpool imagines#deadpool imagine#deadpool x reader#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#wade wilson imagines#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson imagine#wolverine imagine#wolverine imagines#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#Logan howlett imagines
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Wake Me Up - Part 4
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.
AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...
Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).
💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist
Part 4: “The Power in You”
In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore.
Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.
He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.
So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.
Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.
You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.
You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.
The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.
The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.
The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon.
And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.
You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…
It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.
You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?
You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…
It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.
You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.
As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.
You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…
And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.
“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you.
But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted.
No, no, no, no…
You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.
You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.
“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.
“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.
He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.
“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”
For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.
“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.
He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Jeong on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.
Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”
There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.
Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.
You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.
“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.
“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.
You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.
Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.
“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.
Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground.
“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here?
Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.
“How long have we lived here?” he asked.
Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.
“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.
You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced.
“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”
Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes.
“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked.
He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.
Piece by piece, it returned to you.
You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…
“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”
That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought.
He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things.
“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”
You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.
You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.
You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”
Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”
Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real.
After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little.
“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours.
Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again.
Dr. Jeong arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.
A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.
You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.
It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.
Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.
In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.
“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.
Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.
One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.
Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.
Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.
“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”
Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”
He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.
You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.
He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.
You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.
His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.
He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.
The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.
“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.
“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.
“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand over your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”
You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.
What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.
Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.
He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.
You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.
“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.
“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”
“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”
He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.
And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.
“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”
“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”
He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs around his waist.
“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.
Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.
You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.
You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.
But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.
His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.
“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”
You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.
You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.
Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.
“Welcome home,” he said.
Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.
You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”
Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow.
You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt.
He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.
“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”
Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.
“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you.
“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”
He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead.
“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.
“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”
That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine.
Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really.
Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes.
“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said.
In other words, denial of the purest form.
Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.
You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you.
What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.
“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."
His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.
“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.
He gave you a measured look.
“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point.
“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.
“And?” you prompted.
Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.
“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”
You looked up at him then, with a frown.
“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.
After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."
You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.
Who’s really responsible for this…
You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?
“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”
He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.
Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.
“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”
Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.
“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.”
Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.
You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.
“Okay,” he said, at last.
“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”
“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth.
“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest.
“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."
You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.
Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”
“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.
“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.
“Okay,” you replied.
And for now, it really was.
AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Coming up next, we have a pivotal part of the BMD story:
Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? (In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)
▶️ Next Story: Strong as Blood
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
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#The Power in You#Wake Me Up#Part 4#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#Soldier Boy/Ben#the boys#the boys AU#the boys season 3#the boys amazon#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys fanfiction#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#Break Me Down#BMD-verse#the boys x reader#soldier boy fic#zepskies writes
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Female Rage
(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.
Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck
✨Masterlist✨
_________________________
“Hey, what’s with you today?” Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.
Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not he’ll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)’s face.
Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasn’t always easy and especially since puberty started it’s becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.
“What’s with me today?” She asks him in an incredulous tone. “With me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshit”
(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.
“For real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I don’t know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.
“Our bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.
“And for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you weren’t able to attribute it to a woman?!
“But what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.
I don’t wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those “pick me” girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.
“The baseline is wanting to be different from the “typical girl”, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that I’m dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?
“Men apparently, because they don’t want a different girl. They don’t want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They don’t want to be confronted with problems. That’s why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.
“And this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I don’t talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. I’m talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.
“So where do men get their audacity?!”
Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.
Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.
“Uhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?” He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.
“TO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!”
(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.
“I apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. It’s nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. It’s not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.
“Nothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. It’s not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to “make sure you really mean it”.
“I can’t do anything right now that will satisfy you.
“But I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where it’s due and try to be the best feminist I can be.
But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?”
A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.
“Yes, I promise, I’ll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, I’ll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,” (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.
The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.
If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.
All works:
@venomsvl @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27 @bibissparkles
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner
General Spencer Reid:
@mayoanddelight (sunny, you seriously need to tell me when you change your url, this list had such an old one in it)
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female!reader#spencer reid x daughter!reader#spencer reid x teen!reader#spencer reid#x reader#criminal minds#reader insert#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#fanfiction#x teen!reader#x daughter!reader#x female!reader
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John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 1
Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,427 Warnings: None Summary: Your a paralegal at a law firm and John Price is a top attorney - but makes everyone's life a living hell. And it only gets worse when he decides to make you his primary paralegal. Notes: Going based of this prompt/blurb I wrote. There will 100% be more parts - you think I'm gonna have lawyer!price and not have smut at some point? Absolutely not. Also let the record show, I did not proofread teehee<3 ▸read part two here ▸find my masterlist here
The phone sat snug between your ear and shoulder as the contents of your bag were shifted around with one hand, the other holding a coffee. Where is the damn keycard? Your thoughts block out whatever Morgan was saying on the other end of the phone. As you push through the revolving door, the keycard finds a spot between your fingers as you say good morning to the guard and head for the elevator.
“Morgan.” The name coming out of you is rather monotone as you try to grab your friend's attention from her ongoing rant. “Morgan, take a breath would you?” Eyes looking at the lights above the elevators to make note of which one you would be getting into.
“I can’t take a breath! Who goes on five dates with someone and just poof! Hey, I don’t want a relationship?” her voice belted through the phone loud enough that you would think your phone had the speaker option selected. The sudden exclamation in her voice causes you to pull the phone from your ear, eyes glancing to see multiple emails come in from Price about various different cases that had been transferred to you in the past three weeks.
“Son of a bitch.” you mutter as you stand in the elevator, scrolling through twenty new emails, all delivered at 8AM. He fucking prepared them to be auto-sent. Is he fucking kidding?
“Hey, are you there?” Morgan’s voice echoes through the phone, quickly putting it to your ear.
“Sorry, work is already chaotic. Can I call you later? Or maybe drinks after work?” voice apologetic, but your anxiety is already focusing on what needs to get done for the day.
As you push through the doors of the firm, ‘good mornings’ are thrown around from your coworkers as you make your way to your cubicle. The door to his office is wide open, the lack of yelling and aggressive taps on the keyboard nowhere to be heard - He isn’t in yet, thank fuck.
Your bag drops onto the desk along with your coffee next to it, body dropping into the chair as you stare at the black screen. Eight hours to go. Hand grasping the mouse, you give it a shake as the dual monitors come to life and type your login quickly. The inbox rapidly catches up to what your phone already knows - 127 messages. Twenty of them are Price’s alone from this morning.
Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM
Subject: K. Laswell - Deposition of Our Client
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Good Morning,
What is the status of getting the deposition set up? Why is no one agreeing? Call them and get answers. Tired of the emails flooding my inbox.
Very truly yours,
John Price, Esq.
Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM
Subject: S. Riley - Motion to Compel Discovery
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Good Morning,
Prepare the exhibits for A to H. They are in the file under the exhibits folder for the motion. Want it filed today - discovery has been outstanding for over a year. No more good faith letters.
I want to see the final version before it is filed.
Very truly yours,
John Price, Esq.
Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM
Subject: J. McTavish - Search Case Law
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Good Morning,
I don’t have time to look into this today - find me relevant cases that can be applied to the file. Preferably by tomorrow morning, get as specific as you can. Opposition is due 3 weeks from now and I’d rather not be stressing about it when it is due the week before the motion. Any questions, ask Mary. Thanks.
Very truly yours,
John Price, Esq.
Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM
Subject: K. Garrick - CASE DISMISSED
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Good Morning Patrick,
No need to apologize, I hope the family is well. Glad we were able to resolve this.
Looping my paralegal in. She will provide you the document signed on behalf of me and have it to you by the end of the day.
Very truly yours,
John Price, Esq.
“I hope the family is well.” the mumble from your lips is a mocking one, as if that prick ever wishes anyone well. God forbid he ever wrote thank you instead while signing off on an email. The few emails are just the start of the tasks for the day. Happy Monday.
One more email catches your eye before you go to start from the bottom of where you left off the other day answering people. One email not sent exactly at 8 AM.
Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:02 AM
Subject: Meeting about cases
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Morning,
When I’m in the office later we need to discuss more cases you are getting reassigned to. Let me know when you are free today. I’ll be in around 12 after court.
John
Get Outlook for IOS
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
And by the time the clock hits 12, you’ve barely made it through half of the emails. Completely zoning out as you chew on a pen cap, you scroll through the case law your searching for one of Price’s tasks - saving various memorandums into the file and your own notes on a word document. The sound of your desktop messenger goes off, the paralegal chat receiving a message from the firm secretary: Price is in.
Another paralegal, Ava, quickly sent a reply: Prayers up. Headphones in before the yelling in his office starts.
Fingers quickly typing your own response, you send yours: Fingers crossed today’s the day I can get fired and just collect unemployment instead.
You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, closing the chat before Price would make his way to his office by your desk. Better off he didn’t see the alerts of his presence or everyones personal feelings about him. The sound of his shoes clicking against the floor caused your head to peek over your desktop setup, his phone already held up to his ear as he angrily spoke on the phone.
“Well, the judge doesn’t know his fucking ass from his elbow.” his eyes glanced over at you as he walked by, his hand holding up five fingers as he mouthed ‘five minutes’ to you.
So, you didn’t do anything for the next five minutes besides watch the clock on your computer. By the time four minutes hit, you stood up from the desk and stood outside his closed door. And right as five minutes hit, the door swung open and his breath caught in his throat as he was prepared to shout your name but saw you standing right there.
“Glad to see you can count.” he opted to say instead, turning to walk back towards his desk. “Door shut.” You nodded at his demand, closing the door and walking to stand at the front of his desk.
“Is the Laswell deposition set up?” he asked.
“Calendered for January 18th.”
“Exhibits on Riley…finished?” Another question as he scrolled through his emails.
“Prepared for your review.” The response leaving your lips quickly. “Document signed on Garrick. Still working on the case law for McTavish. And anything else you emailed me about.” You decided to finish off responses to any more questions he might have. He glanced up from his laptop, nodding.
“So, that leaves us with case reassignments.” Price stated and you simply nodded to acknowledge his comment. “Any file that Kelsey had with me is getting reassigned to you.” You knew Kelsey, she was a capable paralegal, she was Price’s go-to paralegal. Well, heavy emphasis on the ‘was’. She had quit the other week. Rumors spread, but the consensus seemed to be that Price might have driven her to a mental break.
Your brain did the math quickly - that would leave you hitting around over 250 files altogether. And before you could voice your concern, Price spoke again. “You’ll become my primary paralegal. Any case you have with another attorney is going to get reassigned to someone else.” Slight relief washed over you. At least that knocked your case load down a bit, but that still left you under Price’s reign of terror. Reporting to him about everything.
How soon am I gonna have a mental break? Your brain echoed, but again, you just nodded in response to what he just said. “Have you lost your voice?” He raised a brow. Quickly you shook your head ‘no’.
“No, sir. Understood. I’ll draft memos on any file I have getting transferred to someone else so they know the status.” You spoke, looking down at him as he sat at his desk.
“Good, get back to work.” was all he said, nodding towards his door. And with that, you hurriedly exited his office before he could mention anything else.
Once you sat down at your desk, you opened the paralegal chat.
Guess who is the new Kelsey :))
The hours this day seemed to drag. And for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes glanced at the clock.
7:03 PM.
You let out a frustrated sigh, keeping it quiet. Anything you wanted to actually get done today for the most part didn’t, as you were handling forest fire after forest fire that Price would email about. But at this rate, you felt defeated. Not even a full 24 hours as his designated paralegal and you were one step away from a mental break of your own.
Price was long gone from the office. Every other paralegal was also gone at this rate, vanishing at 5 PM on the dot. The only other presence was the office cleaning lady who came in everyday. She came over to your desk, smiling at you as a greeting before she grabbed your trash can to dump the contents into her larger bin she pushed around. “Isn’t it late, love?” her voice soft and you smiled sadly at her.
“I guess it is.” you said, glancing back at your screen. The lady glanced at your computer screen and then her eyes went to Price’s door, reading his name on the door. And it was like something clicked.
“Oh, does Mr. Price, have you staying late?” she asked, voice laced with pity it sounded like. How did she know? And it was like she read your mind. “That blonde girl….hm, Kelsey!” she exclaimed as she remembered the name. “She was always staying later for that man.” The older lady spoke and you huffed.
“Yeah, Mr. Price.” you mumbled, reaching over to shut your laptop off. There was no way you were doing anything else tonight - besides burying yourself under your bed covers.
“Well, have a good night.” The lady said, walking away as she continued to empty trash cans throughout the office.
And by the time you were home, it felt like a chore to put yourself in the shower. But the water hitting your back acts as a cleanser of any stress of the day. Why was he such a prick? The inflated ego was understandable stemming from the fact he was a successful attorney. But, what was the point of treating everyone around you like shit? If he had a wife, you felt terrible for her. Though you never did notice a wedding ring, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he took it off when he wasn’t around her. And if he wasn’t married, then you figured he was probably single and alone, because who the fuck would deal with that?
Two Months Later
If hell was on earth, it was right here in this very office. At your desk. Working directly for John Price.
The past two months felt like you were running a treadmill that wouldn’t stop and the only way to get off would be to stop running and just let the damn thing fling you into the wall. At least there was paid overtime, or you genuinely would have been on the next train to the unemployment line. But once again, the clock read 6:30 PM for the third time this week. The music from Price’s office blasting as his door had been shut the past four hours. First the sounds of him screaming on the phone, the next two hours followed by a conference call where you were almost positive you heard another attorney start crying and the past hour had been strictly music. You weren’t sure what to expect from his music taste, but the array of Mötley Crüe, Rolling Stones, Slipknot and a bunch of others you couldn’t even begin to name was driving you to the point of losing your mind.
Your body only jumped slightly in your seat when the door to his office abruptly opened, the music pouring into the rest of the empty office. But your eyes focused on Price as you made note of his appearance. In your months working here, nothing about him was ever disheveled. Every button done, tie aligning perfectly with the buttons on his shirt, his hair gel holding every hair on his head in place. Except right now, he looked like he actually just ran on a treadmill as opposed to you who had just felt like you had been on one. The first two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie sprawled on the desk in his office along with his suit jacket that hung off the back of his own chair. His face was slightly red and the gel in his hair looked like it lost his hold and as if his fingers had run through it.
The way his eyes locked on you made your body tense. It made you feel like you were in the wrong for still being in the office. “You’re still here?” he questioned, slightly caught off guard by your presence.
You hesitated for a minute, fingers on the keyboard coming to a stop as you looked at him. Well obviously I’m still fucking here. And the tiredness of the day hitting you, that you couldn’t help but reply with an attitude. “Well, unless I’m a ghost then yes, I’m still here.” The emphasis on the ‘still’ was strong. But your tone didn’t even seem to strike him like you thought it would, he just cleared his throat and nodded.
“I’m stepping out to grab something for dinner quickly. See you tomorrow if you’re gone by the time I’m back.” was all he left you with as he left the office. His demeanor and lack of response to your attitude caught you off guard as you stared blankly at your screen as he left the office. What the fuck is wrong with him?
#john price x reader#john price x you#john price#captain john price#john price x female reader#lawyer!price#captain price#john price cod#captain john price x reader#captain john price x you#call of duty#john price x y/n#captain john price x female reader#finally i write the first part for lawyer price the day has come
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Post S3 Getting Together
Here for your reading pleasure are the fics I had bookmarked that take place after Series 3 or diverge from canon somewhere in there. Post-Mary, some acknowledging the wedding, a few with Rosie.
Lines Written In Kensington Gardens by CaitlinFairchild 6.1k words
Thirty-five was the established boundary, Sherlock decided after extensive calculations. He would be dead by thirty-five. That was the kind of man he was. That was the kind of life he lived.
At thirty-four, a year before his appointed rendezvous with oblivion, Sherlock met a man. Nobody special, or so he thought, an ordinary man--who soon proved extraordinary, a man who killed without hesitation to protect a life Sherlock cared nothing about.
This is the story of how Sherlock Holmes lived long enough to grow old.
Vena Cava by SilentAuror 27.4k
Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.
All Wrapped Up by ThorntonsHeart 4.9k words
“John is back in Baker Street where he belongs but the Christmas present wrapping isn't going well! Of course, it's just another one of Sherlock's amazing gifts that he can wrap anything. John challenges him to prove it. Silliness ensues, chances are taken and the boys finally get everything they ever wanted for Christmas.”
notes: slight pwp, but romantic and lovely getting together
Nobody, Not Even the Rain, has Such Small Hands by miss_frankenstein 3.6k
“Will you need fresh socks?”
Sherlock’s voice immediately brings John back to the present. “What?”
Sherlock gestures irritably to the wet socks clutched in John’s hand. “Socks,” he says again sharply because he hates repeating himself, “Will you need fresh socks?”
notes: set somewhere in S3, John finally seizes his chance with Sherlock, Mary be damned. kinda arguing pre-confession
Your Daughter by agirlsname 9.3k words
Five times Sherlock held John's baby and one time he held John.
John didn't forgive Mary for shooting Sherlock, so the end of HLV didn't happen. When the baby comes John lives with Sherlock at Baker Street, and they take care of the newborn together. Sherlock adores her more than he's prepared for. Oh, and he might have something important to confess to John...
notes: absolutely beautiful devotional from Sherlock to the babygirl, who has no name mentioned.
Right Hand Man by SilentAuror 42k words
When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.
notes: loved their slow paced getting together, heart clenching intimacy. post s3 in that it acknowledges that Mary shot Sherlock.
Are you happy? by amateurwriter 2.9k words
"The only option is, that you have some sort of a plan. Some crazy, brilliant plan that requires me living with her. So please, Sherlock. Tell me. I won't even be mad that you're keeping such essential things from me again. I promise. Just tell me. Tell me it's not much longer and I can come back here and just be with you like we were before. Tell me, Sherlock."
notes: porn with plot
Inked in Memory by 221b_hound 9.7k words
John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had.
Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is.
Many Happy Returns by sussexbound 5.5k
One did not surprise Sherlock Holmes on his birthday. It was not his ‘thing’. It was rarely appreciated. John knows this. He knows, but… [] But John can’t forget. [] All those things only made John love him more, but therein lies the problem, and the source of all his current turmoil. John loves Sherlock.
The Romance Was There by apliddell 4k words
In which Sherlock reveals his merits as a housekeeper, and a few other things, too.
notes: christmastime, domestic fluffy, harry over for the holidays, sharing a bed, sherlock writes a love letter
Eggs and Toast and Love Confessions by allonsys_girl 10.3k words
These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.
notes: loved their characterizations and their chemistry, realistic first time after getting together, john's bad at talking about his feelings
State of Flux by Atiki 24.6k
John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.
notes: love how they talk about their feelings, slowburn that doesn't drag
The Date (reprise) by distantstarlight 1.9k words
Sherlock Holmes is feeling low and blue but John is having none of it. It's Christmas Eve, and things to do.
notes: fluffy christmas getting together, mentions of mary so putting it in post s3
The Dread Pirate Roberts by loveanddeathandartandtaxes 1.2k words
"We first need to know if this new Moriarty is as… zealous as the last.” “I bet your boyfriend wasn’t secretly a lying assassin who tried to kill your best friend, though,” I can’t resist grumbling. Ever the drama queen, he throws his hands in the air and sighs loudly. “Can we please - just - focus, John?” Putting my hand to my face, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I just thought having boyfriends wasn’t a thing you did.”
notes: if you like john leaving mary for sherlock
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why i hate sunflower (sunny x basil) - a rather unprofessional essay
spoilers for omori below
and also i'm not gonna tag this as hate because it's literally just the truth. cry about it.
respectfully, it's a horrible ship. i might just be saying that because i hate basil, but i just cannot see it ever being healthy. basil destroyed everybody's lives with what he did, and even if they decide to forgive him, what happened to them won't just be reversed. not to mention the codepedent/abusive aspect of the whole situation.
basil expects sunny to dedicate his entire life to him and his emotional well-being. you shouldn't be responsible for anyone's emotional well-being when you're fifteen years old except for your own.
even in the game, there is evidence of something codependent. basil can't function like a decent human being when sunny explains that he's going away. basil literally HURTS SUNNY to the point where he needs to be hospitalized in an attempt to make him stay. and you think that would work romantically? heck no.
yeah, they smile at each other at the end, but does that really mean anything? forgiveness is great, but it doesn't take back what happened and the effects it had. sunny will always remember when he tried to leave and got his eye taken out.
and the fact that sunny is so heavily traumatized because of what basil decided to do to his dead sister is just insane to me. he's always going to see that image. i get that basil had good intentions or whatever but intention doesn't equal effect. if i ran you over with my car, it doesn't matter that i was twelve or that it was an accident. you would still have to go to the hospital.
and when people say "but he was just a kid he didn't know any better!". if basil had the cognitive ability to think of doing that, he had to cognitive ability to stop, or AT LEAST to admit what he did. if he did, then hero wouldn't blame himself for years and years, aubrey wouldn't have been abandoned, and mari would have been respected after she died. what basil did was extreme disrespect to the dead and it gives me chills just thinking about it.
and he did it to sunny's SISTER.
i just don't see why you guys don't care more about that? that's a bit more than a little red flag that is like a red ocean.
end of story, sunflower is a horrible ship and i don't get why the fandom is so obsessed with it. it makes me sick just seeing it.
especially when this is such a beautiful story when you look at it from a friendship pov! why does everything have to be about romance and uwu little gay boys? i know damn well if basil was a girl nobody would be shipping him with sunny, you guys just want a gay male relationship to fixate on and infantilize because that's what toxic fandom people DO. but that's a digression.
anyway if you like sunflower you're a threat to society. womp womp go cry. or better yet stop shipping it that would be lovely.
#sunflower#omori sunflower#sunflower omori#omori#omori game#omori spoilers#omori basil#omori fandom#omori sunny#omori mari#omori hero#omori aubrey
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Designed by pain (14)
Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, post break-up, daddy Dean
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (13)
“Fuck, get off,” you curse under your breath. Hours after you leave Mary’s house you try to get the engagement ring off your finger. It doesn’t move. Almost as if the golden band wants to mock you or force you to keep it on. “Get off!!”
“Y/N, is everything alright?” Dean calls from outside the bathroom at his place. He offered you his guestroom for the night. You were too tired and emotionally drained to find a hotel room. “Do you need anything? I can go and buy whatever you forgot.”
“It won’t get off!” You huff and slam your hands onto the sink. “It’s stuck. I can’t get it off.” Choking out a sob you stare at your reflection in the mirror. So many years of independence and peace down the drain because the cocky asshole outside the bathroom couldn’t stay away from you.
“What? Wait! I’m coming!” Dean exclaims before opening the door. He covers his eyes and stumbles inside the room. “What did you say? Do you need help? Is your toe stuck in the faucet?”
You half laugh, half snort. “What? Why do you think my toe got stuck in the faucet? I didn’t take a bath, and would never stick my toe inside the faucet.”
Dean nervously chuckles. He rubs the back of his neck as he finally looks at you. “Well, accidents happen, sweetheart. A faucet can be damn dangerous.”
You snicker. “Your toe got stuck in the faucet, right? How did you do it, Dean?” He pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Well, at least your dick didn’t get stuck inside the faucet.” You grin from ear to ear. Teasing Dean is fun.
“Y/N!” He gapes at you. “I’m not some pervert putting his dick into the faucet!” Dean narrows his eyes to give you the stinky eye. “You know that my dick would never fit into a faucet.”
“You only didn’t put it inside because it would not fit,” you accuse, earning a huff. “I wasn’t talking about my toe, Dean.” You finally lift your hand to show him the ring. “It won’t get off.”
Dean hums. He steps closer to grab your hand to look at the ring. “Then, don’t take it off. It’s right where it belongs.”
You breathe his name and shake your head. “You know I can’t keep it. The ring never belonged to me, Dean. Whatever we had back then is long gone. We can’t just go back in time and make things right. I raised our son on my own and started a new life without you.”
Dean drops his gaze. He nods because there is no denying that he fucked things up. Even though Mary played a huge part in your breakup, it was his fault that he didn’t stay with you that day. Dean knows there is nothing he can do to make things up to you.
“Stay—” He murmurs, eyes searching yours. “Back then, I was a fool. I was selfish and scared of commitment. But I know now how it feels to live without you, and I’d rather have you and Michael in my life.” Dean raises his hand to stop you from replying. “Don’t answer right now. I know I have no right to beg you to stay, but I do.”
“Dean, I—” Your voice cracks. Right now, you’re not able to respond or even think straight. The past came crashing back into your life, and you cannot handle anything but focus on getting that damn ring off your finger.
He turns to leave the room but glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get some olive oil,” Dean says and points at your hand. “For the ring.”
You watch him leave, feeling bad for him. Dean broke your heart, but you know now, that it wasn’t all his fault. Maybe you should’ve stayed that night. If you hadn’t run away like an angry child, you could’ve talked things out and ruined Mary’s plans.
Dean darts his tongue out, focused on rubbing more olive oil into your skin. He gently massages your finger and tries to move the ring. “Almost there, sweetheart.”
You nod and watch him slowly slide the ring off your finger. It feels good that it’s gone, but at the same time, you feel a sadness you haven’t experienced in years. “Thank you.”
“I’ll put it away,” he says, sounding as sad as you feel. “In case you ever want it back.” Dean gives you a sad smile before walking out of the room. You sigh and grab one of the paper towels to clean your hand.
“Do you want to order takeout?” Dean calls from outside the room. “Michael is still at Sammy’s place, but we could eat together.”
“Sounds good,” you answer. “You can choose. You need to eat something after you refused to eat more of my mince pie.”
“That was not nice of you, Y/N. You know about my weakness for pie and ordered this monstrosity,” Dean huffs as he enters the living room. “A low blow.”
“It was payback for all the times I had to eat fatty burgers or pizza,” you shoot back. “You never invited me to a nice restaurant, Winchester.”
“Sweetheart, that’s a lie! What about the little Italian restaurant,” he bites back. “You almost inhaled their food.”
You purse your lips. Dean is not wrong. Their food was delicious. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Dean.”
He smirks. “How about I order takeout from them, and you can tell me again that I never invited you for dinner to a nice restaurant.”
“Your house is not a restaurant, Winchester,” you argue. “Do not cheat! Ordering takeout is not taking me out on a date.”
“Okay. Let’s go on a date right now,” he hastily says, smirking as you look at him with wide eyes.
“What? That’s not what I meant…I mean…” Stammering you look at Dean, unable to come up with an excuse. You said what you said and now it’s too late.
Part 15
Tags in reblog.
#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#business au#x reader#Designed by pain (14)#dean winchester x female!reader
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Ghost Ridders Cap.1
#Special Note: Not my pics, all them will be tag to its actual owner. Also not my characters. Please be patient, it´s my first time writing and englihs it´s not my first language. Feel free to interact!!!!
#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with him on a visit to a New World´s island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.
This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabondy for the first time.
The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡
YOUR POV:
You are walking. Or at least you think so. You don’t remember exactly how long it’s been, but it’s been long time since you’ve been practically going on autopilot. Walking, eating, and just going through the motions.
You just land in an island in the middle of the New World. All because Sand Roswald your lord and celestial dragon wanted to "buy" a jewel for his daughter that was now being sold in one of the best jewelry stores of the Red Line. I say "buy" because, of course, he would take whatever he wanted without caring what the store owner thought, and anyone who got in his way would be the one to lose. Just like what happened to me, but that’s another story.
All I could see were the yellow, worn cobblestones of the main street in the capital. I heard the screams and whimpers of people as they knelt, trying to avoid his gaze, and I could even hear footsteps as people ran, trying to hide somewhere else, trying to stay as far as possible. Mean while, in my head words repeated over and over: “Walk, look down, and everything will be fine.”
After so many years, the Sea Rock shackles hanging in my wrist where like part of my own body; I had learned to live with that weight. With that pain.
MARCO’S POV:
“All this will cost you 200 berris,” said the owner at the medicine shop.
“Alright, give me a second. Ace, hand me the bag.” The silence made me look back; Ace wasn’t there, and somehow I wasn’t surprised. The damn idiot had gotten lost again. I can’t take it anymore. Now I have to go look for him, and to top it all off he took all the money with him.”
The Whitebeard pirates had just landed that day, looking for supplies, and they had to set sail again quickly to complete an important mission. So they had just enough time to grab what they needed and leave.
“My friend has gone with the money; hold this for me, and I’ll be back for it.” Just as the owner was about to respond, a wave of people running and screaming in desperation rushed past the store. “What happened? What’s wrong with the people?”
“From what I understand, a celestial dragon is coming to the city today. If I were you, I’d stay inside until it’s gone. As far as I know, it’s Saint Rosward. They’re one of the cruelest families out there… if any of them could be considered merciful,” the man explained with kindess.
“I don’t have time for that. I need to find my berries and leave as soon as possible. Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” I replied with a friendly smile.
I stepped out into the deserted street. There was no one left; people were either already hiding or kneeling in the main street.
This could be dangerous. I need to be careful. I thought, and that’s when it hit me… If I were Ace, ¿Where would I have gone?… ¡THE MARKET! Which, of course, is on the main street…
Hidden under my cloak and trying not to draw too much attention, I made my way to the main street and knelt down with the rest of the citizens. Moving quickly, I tried to get to the front rows so I could take a better look at the market area. As I got closer, I saw three armed men and a girl in the middle, all at the entrance of a jewelry store. Through the window, Saint Rosward with a jewel on his hands. I looked around and suddenly, I SAW HIM. The idiot was on the roof of that same building, gesturing at me while laughing and eating an apple.
“What an idiot…” I thought as I signaled for him to come down. At that very moment, the atmosphere changed, and the entire scene around the street shifted. A single element was enough to send a chill down my spine. Something was about to happen, and that made me look towards the store’s door. The girl was looking up, at me to be more specific, straight into my eyes, and that’s when I realized.
I looked her up and down, inch by inch, for seconds that felt like hours. The girl was young, practically a child to me, though it was hard to tell since not a single inch of her body was visible. An old, tattered cloak, almost like a sack of potatoes, covered every part of her body, except her bare feet, covered in blood and mud, and her hands, which were bound by sea stone handcuffs. Her long, tangled brown hair and dark brown eyes were the only visible parts. I scanned her nose, cheekbones, mouth… eyes… those eyes.... so familiar, and then an image came to mind: my mother, and this girl was the spitting image of her.
“Y/N…” I sighed. But it was impossible; my sister was dead. Or so they told me, I think. I don’t know. It’s impossible, what are the odds anyway? Exactly… None.
The girl looked at me, freeze, staring deeply without breaking eye contact, and then her expression changed, as if she had seen a ghost. The truth is, my face must look similar right now.
Her facial expression changed yet again and her tear-filled eyes brought back memories, memories of my childhood, which I’d rather forget.
A blow. A weapon struck her head, and blood began to flow.
“What’s wrong with you? Stop crying. Shut up,” one of the guards shouted. “If Saint Rosward sees you… ¿You won’t want to spend another week in the box, eh, slut?”
She didn’t take her eyes off me, and then a voice echoed in my head, saying, “Now.” I don’t know where it came from, perhaps from within me, from the deepest part, but I listened to it because next thing i know is that I stood up and ran, ran as fast as I could towards one of the guards, ready to hit him and steal his weapon. At the same time, almost as if she knew what I was going to do, the girl stood up, dodging the guard’s blows with ease, kicking him several times, and stealing his weapon. Without using her hands.
“Right!” she shouted, and tossed the wepon to me. I turn right and the weapon falls into my hands. I manage to shoot the guard in front of me.
Another guard falls behind me from a bullet entering his forehead. As I turn around, I spot Izou looking at me with an alarmed expression, probably thinking that I’m crazy.
Meanwhile, Saint Rosward and the rest of his guards and slaves come out of the store due to the commotion at the entrance. They find three guards on the ground, and me standing right in front of him.
“Damn bitch, if I didn’t need you, I’d kill you right here. Come on, grab her and kill the others,” Saint Rosward shouted furiously. I swear, at that moment, it seemed like he could have erupted into flames all over his body; his expression was one of pure rage. In fact his clothes began to catch fire, flames rising from the bottom of his tunic. ¿Does he have that power?¿ Has he eaten a Devil Fruit?¿ Which one? But then it hits me: !!!ACE¡¡¡¡
Saint Rosward begins to scream and jump around like a madman while his guards try to put out the fire now spreading across his clothes.
“¡Run! I´ll see you guys on the ship,” Ace says as a grin formed his lips.
Without thinking it much, I look at Izou; we both nod. I quickly head towards the girl and take her hand. The three of us run towards the port amidst the commotion of the people; no one does a thing, no one moves except us.
Y/N POV:
I’m still on autopilot. ¿What just happened?
Run. It’s the only thing I can think of; my whole body is trembling, numb from so many years of being unable to move, and though my feet, my legs are doing their best, the sea stone cuffs are hard to ignore now. The broken and unstable cobblestone ground makes me trip, and fall to the ground, unable to catch myself as my hands are bound.
Everything around me is shaking; I was so close to escaping, a glimmer of hope in my heart, and now I’ve lost it so quickly.
“¡She’s my sister!” I hear footsteps ahead. Strong, big arms lift me up. A silouette in a pink and purple kimono lifts me onto one of its shoulders and starts running without saying a word.
I let myself be carried, and for the first time in eight years, I feel safe enough to close my eyes and let my body relax. So much that I even passed out.
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I open my eyes. My whole body hurts; my muscles and bones ache so much that I let out a small groan when I try to move. My eyes slowly adjust to the light. I’m in a room, an infirmary, and although the room is small, it has the basics: a bed, a sink, and cabinets with countless shelves and various potions. Next to me, a blond boy in a lilac shirt sleeps in a chair. He slowly begins to open his eyes.
“Y/N ¡You’re awake!” he shouts, not realizing the volume of his words. "I mean… well…¿ Are you Y/N? ¿Who are you?”
“Marco… I…”
A deathly silence filled the room. Just for a few seconds, before voices behind the door interrupted the conversation.
“Ace, stop it. You can’t go in there, get lost idiot.” An unfamiliar voice spoke behind the door.
“Come on, Thatch, I’ll give Marco the food, don’t worry. We’re a very close crew and need to help each other out, so let me help by delivering this food to Marco.” This time the voice was more familiar, though I didn’t know why it seemed so familiar…
“All you want is eat that food yourself. Give it back to me…”
Suddenly, the door bursts open with a loud bang, a reven hair boy with a very peculiar hat enters the room. Behind him, a man in a chef’s jacket follows and you could tell that he wants to kill the young man in front of him.
“¡MARCO’S SISTER IS AWAKE! ¿Are you hungry? Here. I brought you food,” he said with a cocky smile.
“Ace, get out of here, I need to talk to her,” Marco replied with a frown, pushing the boy out of the room and closing the door with a bang. “I’ll bring you some food later.¿ Are you hungry?”
“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry,” I replied, looking down. The truth is you were straving. But thats a feeling you long ago abandon.
“¿Are you really Y/N?”
“Yes,” I replied timidly.
“If you really are, prove it. Show me the mark.”
"Never say who you are, never show them…" those words came to mind forcefully, too forcefully. But it was Marco, I was sure. It had been 15 years since I’d seen him, and although we were children, I knew it was him, that face, that hair… unmistakable. Besides, it was my only chance to dont go back, to never go back.
I turned around, giving my back to Marco, who looked dubious at the girl in front of him. I lowered the cloak, letting him see my completely bare back. Marco let out a gasp. There it was. Right on the neck, that symbol, which identified me unmistakably. Below it, another mark: the mark of the celestial dragons slaves.
A shiver ran down Marco’s spine, and terror invaded his body. Immobilized, unable to make a sound. I turned around: “Now show me yours.”
Marco turned around quickly, lowering his shirt to show me his.
“Bathe and dress, in a few hours we’ll arrive at the Moby Dick,” he said, tossing a towel into my arms. And before I could utter another word, he opened the door and left.
The idea of a bath sounded good; I can’t even remember the last time I bathed… in a pleasant bath of cause, since the cold water hoses of Marie Geoise... I wouldn’t know if they could be considered a bath.
With some reluctance and embarrassment, I opened the door, ready to find the bathroom… ¿How could Marco leave me alone? ¿Couldn’t he have shown me where the bathroom was?. I walked down the hallway, looking for something indicating to be a bathroom, and suddenly, the sound of running water reached my ears. “There it is.” At the end of the hallway, a large open door led to long and large bathtubs, the air condensed with all the steam from the hot water. “¡Hot water, finally!” I couldn’t believe it, nor could I wait to immerse myself in it. I quickly entered, touching the water with my foot, and suddenly I felt my whole body tremble, all the energy, the little I had, vanished. The sea stone cuffs. I had completely forgotten about them, they had become part of me, so much that I didn’t notice them. “I should better wash at the sink.”
I headed to the sink, and at that moment, behind me, a lot of water started to flow upwards, and with a great crash of water against the walls, a tall, muscular figure emerged from the bathtub.
A stifled scream escaped my throat; I managed to stop it by covering my mouth with my hands and instinctively hid under one of the sinks. The figure slowly emerged from the water; it seemed to be difficult for him too… It was the boy who entered the infirmary with the food. I started to scan his muscular tan body, naked… :¿¿¡NAKED??!! At that very moment, I woke from my trance. I better get out of here immediately. Crawling, I managed to reach the door and leave the bathroom, running down the hallway back to the infirmary, locking the door and hiding there. SHIT.
NEXT CHAPTER
#onepiece#one piece x reader#portgasace#portgas d ace#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you#portgas ace x y/n#portgas ace smut#fire fist ace#portgas d ace x y/n#whitebeard pirates#whitebeard one piece#whitebeard crew#op whitebeard#white beard pirates
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Oh, Mari, help! I need a living heater in the form of Joel. It's been damn cold in my country, it's 11 degrees (it was 27 a week ago). And my furnace broke down (so my radiators are cold) and the repair guy won't come until Saturday 😭
Also, this song gave me "Heartless" vibes today: Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You
Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
A/N: aww baby, I know this ask is a few months old now but I hope things are alright for you! We are also dealing with drastic temperature change, I mean a week ago it was more than 30° but today the max temperature is like 17° so I could definitely use Joel to keep me warm too 😭🫦
• Winters during the outbreak are possibly one of the worst and most depressing things mankind had ever faced, lacking sources of heat, electricity and basic things such as warm clothes, decent blankets and hot water, surviving that weather became one of the many other things someone would need to survive in that world
• no matter if you lived in a QZ, or if you were on the run over the long abandoned roads, winter was hard and that was the time people usually drank the most in order to keep themselves warm and numb to how bad things were
• and even if everything was terrible, you were still so lucky you had Joel, because that man would do anything he could in order to protect you from any danger and of course, from the cold weather as well
• if we are talking about the time you live in the QZ, he would use his smuggling skills in order to offer you the best he can find: jackets, coats, sweaters, blankets, booze, anything really
• and of course you will both snuggle so close in bed, it's funny how Joel is the little spoon even if he's bigger, but he can switch positions whenever you need his body sheltering you
• fucking to keep warm is also a possibility you both really enjoy
• when you guys escape the QZ, he knows nights out in the open are also cold, even if it isn't the winter, and you can't take space in your backpack to carry big, thick blankets, so you will both have to handle sleeping bags
• Joel would always make sure to find shelter and start a fire, so you can spend some time as warm and cozy as possible and of course you would both cuddle so you wouldn't lose heat
• when you get to Jackson, you can barely believe there is such a place, where you can actually have lights on, warm baths and decent, comfortable beds
• while you are both in awe, after eating a proper meal for the first time in months, you decide to share a hot shower together; you could've done it separately, but you are doing it together, because you want to have feeling of running your hands through Joel's skin, the warm water pouring over the two of you, as you both soap and shampoo each other
• then, after changing into new, clean and warm clothes, you go to bed; now there's a heating system in the house that actually works, you won't have to feel that excruciating, painful cold wind that seems to reach your bones, but you will still both hold each other at night, as if your lives depended on it, because deep inside, you know it's not just to keep warm you slept like that
• Joel buries his face into the crook of your neck and pulls you closer, his hand holding your hips and stroking your skin up and down, he's able to sleep peacefully, knowing he can finally offer you the protection you need and that you'll be safe in his arms
____
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal headcanons#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller headcanon#joel miller headcanons
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 47
chapter 72:
1. “The day of Marlene's memorial is the first time Dorcas decides she's going to kill herself.” oh shit, oh fuck wait
2. bro dorcas is unwell. like holy shit. i forget that the war started because of dorcas’ love for marlene. like. this is just as much of a dorlene fic too
3. dear god i wanna help dorcas so badly
4. call it instinct, but i knew dorcas’ hair would be a crucial part of her healing journey 💃🏼💃🏼
5. i love well rounded female characters but at what cost. dorcas is well rounded but at what cost? she’s suffering and it hurts to read
6. god damn. finding out that dorcas’ mom was in charge of a quarterly quell is fucking insane. considering that dorcas all but ran the resistance
7. “”You said it first, didn't you? There are no good people in war. I lived by those words, did you know that? All that you were wrong about, but that…" She gives a brittle laugh. "You were right about that."”
foaming at the mouth oh my god. i wanna chomp glass
8. DORCAS NO! (she started drinking fyi)
9. dear god dorcas, you aren’t the only one who knew the “real” marlene. people other than you loved her.
10. dorcas finally admitting that if she could choose someone other than dorcas it would be lily hurts. especially since lily has mary.
11. “Marlene was the love of her life, and that's it. Simple as that. She'll never love another.” OWWWWW
12. “She will make sure Lily never knows that Dorcas looks at her now and thinks before this life, it could have been us; maybe in some other life, it is. And that's more than enough.”
DNDNSMMSJSKEJNS AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
13. brb i’m sobbing
okay i’m back. dorcas just found out marlene was gonna propose and now i’m a sniveling mess
14. so much thanks to bizzarestars making the effort to learn about the way war vets healed and dealt with ptsd
chapter 73:
1. sirius having an emotional support dog >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
2. also imma make predictions now: this is the chapter where sirius goes home. it’s time
3. YES YES YES YES THEYRE GOING HOME FUCK YEAH
4. “A homely little home with a porch-swing under the stars. Sirius is homesick for that, too.”
this is my dream too. like it’s been my dream for so long. i can’t even fathom how sirius isn’t bawling like a baby over this. IM bawling like a baby over THEIR porch swing
5. regulus saw sirius and was willing to risk it all just to hug him omg
6. “Barty was the sort of person who needed no outside guidance into being a bit insane.” LMAOOOOOO
7. they’re running a business together and they’re gonna do it forever and now i want to gnaw on wood and glass and plastic and anything i can get my hands on
8. lmao not sirius sitting like a spoiled puppy dog as james and regulus argue over him for the wedding
9. “"Oh, please," James scoffs, rolling his eyes. "One, I'm not stealing your brother away from you, and you know it. Two, who the fuck else would be my best man, hm? Who? Go on."
"Oh, you want to go there?!" Regulus shouts. "What about me? Yeah, didn't think about that, did you? My best friend is dead. Oh, and so is Barty. Who do I have, James? Hm?"”
FUCKING CACKLING
10. awwwww sirius’ compromise is so sweet omg. i’d literally cry if i was james and regulus
11. ugh gay people are so confusing. like you’re allowed to be freinds with the same people and freinds with any gender. so like, it makes wedding planning so hard. who goes on who’s side? what if i said that when i found out about gay people, my biggest hold up wasn’t religion or anything like that, but instead wedding side logistics
12. canonical genderqueer tonks!!!!!!!!!
13. regulus went to aberforth to cause a scene, and damn if he didn’t succeed
14. damn they’re both stubborn. and both got their way jfc
15. full circle. dorcas is designing their wedding clothes. i’m losing my mind, actually
16. the bookshelf. the fucking bookshelf from the first arena. i’m losing my mind oh my god
17. CACKLING OMG. REGULUS WAS WORRIED THAT JAMES WOULD BE SCARED OF THE DAGGERS, BUT INSTEAD HE GOT SO FUCKING TURNED ON OMG
18. STILL FUCKING CACKLING OMG
19. i didn’t know i needed insecure james, but oh i did
20. i get to read the crimson rivers jegulus wedding and oh my fucking god i’m losing it. i am so unbelievably happy
21. “For him, it's easiest to show love when it's a tragedy.”
dksjdjjsjdjsmdjske holy shit
22. “You're hesitating, love."”
AHDHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
23. “You might wish to know a lot of things about their wedding, and their love, but frankly, it's no one's business but theirs.” so feral over this. that’s literally one of the biggest themes of the story omg i love this
24. hi, anyways, i am so unwell
25. the authors notes about the wedding are golden
#marauders#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#sirius black#crimson rivers#james and sirius#dorcas meadowes
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Protective (Part 2 of 'Am I Feeling Love')
Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x F!Reader
Word Count: 5,328
Part 1 Part 2 (You Are Here) Part 3a Part 3b
I had someone ask if I was going to do a continuation of ‘Am I Feeling Love?’ that was orinally written on my main blog @kiy-anna after I rewrote the story to fit the tags better. I was mulling over the idea and my poor sea-rotted brain decided “Screw it, Mari! Just write the damn thing!”
It took a bit to figure out how I wanted to execute the process, but I’m honestly more curious to see what you guys think as well. Also, don’t forget, I have a poll that ends in a few days that will help me decide what sort of fanfiction I will be posting going forward, so please vote! It ends on Wednesday!
Warnings: yandere behavior, beatings, manipulative behavior, and foul language
***
The world is cruel, the world is wicked
It’s I alone whom you can trust in this whole city, I am your only friend
How can I protect you, girl, unless you always stay in here
Away in here…
***
Azul tapped the desk he sat behind impatiently.
For the past hour, he had been cooped up in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge dealing with those poor unfortunate souls that sought him out - the pathetic fools making deals with the octomer as his patience thinned by the minute. All he wanted at this point was to get out of his office and watch you.
You, the magicless guest of Octavinelle, had been living in the guest rooms of the dorm for a little over two months and were working within the Mostro Lounge to pay for said room - not that you needed to, it was merely a lie so Azul could keep tabs on you. The other students of the Octavinelle dorm did not completely understand his reasoning; some thought that he was merely being a nice housewarden to a poor soul with no one else to turn to, others that knew the housewarden too well thought that he was using you as a way to lure in unsuspecting victims for his contracts.
Whatever their thinking was, only Azul and his vice-warden, Jade, along with the problem twin, Floyd, knew the real reason as to why you were kept close by.
Soulmates were rare and finding that ‘other half’ is like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Many times, people - humans, fae, and merfolk alike - often settle for someone they are content and happy with, someone that isn’t their other half. Azul, at the time he first learned about soulmates, wanted nothing more in the world than to find them - to have that one person who would see him for himself and not the pathetic octo-twerp he had been called during his youth; thus, he began working on himself, his powers increasing as he lured his victims in and stole away their most treasured gifts - a beautiful singing voice, powerful magic… all of it.
But even with the changes and his new found strength, Azul had no luck in finding the other part of his soul - that was until about two months ago when you first appeared in Twisted Wonderland.
Azul had been ecstatic the first few weeks after you had taken up residence in his dorm; consistently coming to check on you, making sure you weren’t too tired, asked if you had eaten… and sometimes just watching you from the darkness of the lounge as you shifted from table to table, taking orders and bringing food and drinks to the guests. Nearly two weeks into working at the lounge, the clientele number increased slightly - making Azul at first wonder what had happened.
Turns out, some of the students who had frequented the lounge had made mention of you in passing and how you were nicer compared to the other staff members - hence the students came to the lounge to, not just get a glimpse of you, but to also shoot a chance at getting you as their waitress. Jade and Floyd, who were consistently in the lounge and operated as Azul’s eyes and ears - especially when it came to you - informed Azul of what was going on. Hence, Azul decided to restrict your hours to only working when he, Jade, or Floyd was. When you asked if you had done something wrong, Azul merely rested a hand on your shoulder, eyes shining with a possessive kindness, as he explained there were certain students who had been watching you - and he was only doing this for your protection. After all, it wasn’t like he could monitor you twenty-four-seven - he still had his grades to keep up and you weren’t a student, technically.
It worked momentarily, but then Azul was back to the drawing board again when Jade had mentioned Riddle Roseheart’s overblot in passing.
Turns out, you had asked Azul for a day off the same day Riddle went berserk. Azul had asked what for, but you merely said you wanted to explore the school grounds, specifically the rose gardens that surrounded Heartslabyul. He knew that you had ‘made friends’ with two freshmen from the dorm - Deuce Spade and Ace Trappola, both who had been collared by Riddle because of their bad behavior. If Azul could work his will, he would have locked you up in his own room and thrown away the key to prevent anyone from looking at you or speaking to you - but he couldn’t find the strength to do so. Even so, he had agreed, allowing you to go to the unbirthday party that was randomly held on different days during the year, with the promise that you would come back as soon as it was over and not a minute later.
Turns out, the ‘unbirthday party’ had been a lie since Deuce and Ace both had challenged Riddle for his position as headwarden and you wanted to go to support them in their fight. However, Ace made a valid point about the rules that had been pressed upon the students of Heartslabyul and practically turned the whole dorm against Riddle - which caused his temper to flare up and the overblot to happen. Luckily, you didn’t get hurt during the fight between Riddle, Deuce, Ace, Trey, Cater, Crowley, and the pyromaniac demon cat-weasel, Grim - but you had been the one to smack sense back into Riddle with a slap to the face when he had gone after you next.
And it was because of that slap and knocking some sense back into the headwarden of Heartslabyul that those who heard about what happened began to flock to the Mostro Lounge in search of you once more.
Azul pressed his face to hands and rubbed at his skin hard enough to turn it red as he thought and thought. What was he going to do? He couldn’t let anyone else get close to you! You were his! His soulmate! You should be putting your entire focus on him and him alone! Was that too much to ask?!
“What’s with the face?” the unwelcomed voice of Leona reached Azul’s ears as the octomer sat up and righted himself.
“What’s it to you? Nevermind, I’m busy at the moment, Leona. If you wish to speak with me, you have to make an appointment…”
“I already did, did you forget?” The beastman prince strolled into the room and plopped on the couch, arms dangling behind the rest and feet landing on the table before him, “I need to make a contract with you for a potion.”
Azul shifted his glasses into place before reaching into his desk and pulling out the familiar golden paper he used for his contracts, his pen twirling in his fingers as it shifted into a fishbone and began to write, “What sort of potion?”
“An enhancement potion,” Leona answered, side eyeing the Octavinelle headwarden before explaining, “With the Spelldrive Tournament coming up in a few weeks, and with all of these little mishaps that have been going around the campus lately, it would be a shame if something were to befall a particular headwarden we know too well.”
Azul did not need Leona to explain any further nor to question who he was referring to.
It was no secret that the Diasomia dorm had taken first place in the Spelldrive Tournament for the past two years straight - practically overrunning Savanaclaw who usually held that spot. The dorm’s success had been due to the new headwarden - Malleus Draconia - who had taken up the position the year before Azul arrived at Night Raven. Malleus was a dragon fae and one of the top ranking mages in Twisted Wonderland - so powerful that he alone was the reason for Diasomia’s success, making ninety percent of the scores by the dorm’s team. He probably would be the only player if Crowley had allowed it.
Many of the other headwardens were disgusted by the losses and damage that had been dealt to their teams over the course of the past two years - even Azul had been winded by Draconia once and had no desire to be the dragon’s dinner again; due to this, the headmage had made the offer to place Draconia in the hall of fame, which would prevent him from participating in any more of the Spelldrive matches this year and next year. At first, all of the headwardens were in agreement - but Leona argued that it wasn’t a fair fight, claiming that they were acting like a bunch of cubs. Azul had twitched at that remark, but agreed that the fight wasn’t fair - as much as he hated it, he agreed that Leona did have a point about allowing Draconia to continue; he wanted to prove that Draconia wasn’t invincible nor was he immune, he wanted to prove that anyone could beat the Diasomia headwarden - even if it was just another individual.
Azul adjusted himself in his chair, thoroughly invested in the deal now, “If we’re thinking the same thing, Leona, you must be willing to offer something in agreement of equal price. How about that speciality spell you’re so fond of? You barely use it.”
“‘King’s Roar’?” Leona arched a brow in his direction, “I may not use it, but it does come in handy from time to time. How about my nephew instead?”
Azul twisted his features in disgust, “No thank you. I’m not Rumplestiltskin, nor a babysitter.”
Leona laughed, his voice shaking the settee for a moment, “I was only joking, Faleena would never allow me to hear the end of it. Well, then… perhaps a little advice on that soulmate of yours?”
Azul nearly dropped his pen, surprise appearing on his normally calm face before his pale blue eyes narrowed at Leona menacingly, “What do you know about that?”
“It’s not a surprise given your behavior as of late,” Leona curled his fingers inward as his gaze shifted toward them as if to inspect his nails, “Besides, I heard from a few of my dorm members that frequent here that you’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on our magicless guest.”
‘The sneaky lionfish,’ Azul sneered at Leona, feeling his temperature rising as his gloved hands curled inward.
“Personally, I have nothing against wanting to keep (Y/N) close,” Savanaclaw’s headwarden continued, “She’s cute and pretty, nevermind that fact that she’s a hard worker and kind - sucks big time that she’s a female. She probably would’ve done well in Night Raven if she was a boy.”
“What’s the point you’re getting at?” Azul seethed.
“Merely that everywhere she goes, she is welcomed. (Y/N) has made a few friends without your knowledge by working the floors of the Mostro Lounge. Every time she shares a smile, a laugh, or anything - someone undoubtedly falls for her charm.”
Azul leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his chin in thought. Leona had a point - (Y/N) may have been his precious pearl, his soulmate, but she was also well liked by any and all who encountered her. Deuce, Ace, and Grim were just the stepping stones, Cater, Trey, and Riddle also fell in line with her presence and kind words - and even many of the Octavinelle dorm that worked alongside her in the lounge had gotten close with the magicless guest. However, the students of the Octavinelle dorm knew that Azul had marked (Y/N) as his - those that did not understand the process, such as the humans of Heartslabyul, would always be a threat to the octomer’s happiness; they might even go as far as to ask the headmage to allow (Y/N) to stay in their dorm!
Azul clenched his hand tighter at the thought, ‘No! She’s mine! I will not allow anyone to touch nor taint her perfection or soul.’
The headwarden of Octavinelle leaned forward, fingers crossing together as his elbows rested on the desk and his chin on his folded hands, “I’m willing to make a deal with you, Kingscholar.”
Leona arched a brow as Azul continued in a dark voice, “(Y/N) is very important to me, the other half of my soul - as you know. Her recent encounter with Riddle Rosehearts’ overblot has left me worried that she might attempt to leave Octavinelle. I know that I promised I would help her return home, but I need to keep her close by in order to do so. Soulmates are rare - whether they are humans, beastmen, faes, or mers - and they need to be kept close to each other. I do not want to put (Y/N) on a leash nor lock her up, but she is far too free for my liking. I will create the spell enhancement potion for you in exchange for your help with (Y/N)’s freedom.”
“What is it you have in mind?”
“... Merely a little scare that will show her how cruel and twisted this world can be.”
***
It was a few days later when the plan was set in motion.
You had been helping with the set up for the vendors surrounding the colosseum where the Spelldrive tournament was set to take place in a few days; setting up tents and tables, covering areas with cloths and helping move heavy objects. You wiped at your brow as a bit of sweat dribbled down before a cloth was pressed to your face.
“You’re working too hard,” the familiar voice of your employer pulled your attention to him, a smile appearing on your face as Azul’s lips quirked into a grin.
He was dressed in the headwarden’s dorm uniform - a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and purple tie and the dorm’s scarf hanging loosely around his neck, a pale gray overcoat that hung on his shoulders, and a black fedora perched on his head. He was leaning against the silver tipped cane with the large octopus on the handle - the mage stone held securely between its silver tentacles. It was strange to see for someone who was working on setting things up, but Azul was in charge of overseeing everything and making sure everything was where it needed to be and making changes as needed, using maps and planograms as reference points.
“Well, I always believed in the phrase ‘working hard or hardly working,’” you answer, taking the offered handkerchief and wiping away the sweat and grime from your features.
“Quite an interesting phrase,” Azul nodded, resting his hands on his hips, “Care to enlighten me on the meaning?”
You shrug, “I’m not really sure, honestly. People in my world use it for small talk or to point out a person’s laziness. For example, if someone wasn’t doing anything, someone might ask ‘working hard or hardly working?’”
Azul hummed in thought, “I suppose it is a good phrase to use - maybe it might actually get Floyd to do something for a change… however, as I’m sure you know, that eel will whatever whenever he wants to, regardless of what I tell him.”
I giggle, nodding in agreement, “Yes, and half the time he dumps his work on his twin - poor Jade.”
“Jade’s used to it,” Azul waved his hand dismissively, “but speaking of ‘dumping things onto others,’ I hate to ask this of you, but I do need you to do something for me.”
“Hmm? What is it, Azul?”
“I have an order waiting to be picked up at the school store. You’re familiar with Mr. S’s mystery shop, yes?”
You nod with a smile, “Yep, I’ve been there a few times.”
“Good, I need to go there and get the parcel. It has a few items that we’ll need for the Lounge and for the tournament. I would get it myself, but I have to keep things going here and Jade and Floyd are working on their own projects for the tournament. Would you be willing to go pick it up for me?”
“Why not have it delivered to the dorm?”
“It’s easier to travel to the store instead of going to the dorm and back. I had intended on getting it earlier, but it completely slipped my mind until now.”
You frowned a bit as something crawled up your back and tingled behind your head, a feeling that something didn’t sit right with the whole situation. However, Azul had slipped to your side as his arm came around your shoulders and pulled you close enough for you to smell the expensive cologne he always wore.
“Please, (Y/N), it’s very important that you do this for me. I’ll reward you, too, for your efforts - a drink of your choice from Mr. S’s shop or from the Mostro Lounge, on the house. Besides, you’ve been working so hard as of late that you need a little bit of a break. Take this as an opportunity to stretch your legs and cool down a bit.”
A refreshing beverage was starting to sound good. You had been working in the sun for a while like everyone else that was part of the setting up, never mind that your bottle of water had been drained a while ago and you had yet the opportunity to refill it. Perhaps just going to get the parcel for Azul as well as a small drink wouldn’t be so bad.
“Ok, do you mind if I finish up here?”
“Of course,” Azul pulled away before resting a hand on your head and messing your hair, “but as soon as you finish, please go and get the package. I need it as soon as possible.”
You nodded in understanding before turning back to your tasks as Azul walked away.
***
The parcel wasn’t big, thankfully, but it was awkward - an odd shape that looked spherical, but was flat with pointed edges.
‘I wonder what’s on here?’ you shake the package gently as you walk away from Sam’s shop, heading back toward the colosseum. You discard the thought, tucking it under your arm and taking your time, enjoying the shade the trees provided and the gentle cool breeze of autumn ruffling the changing leaves of the school campus and pulling some off and away from their homes. The colors reminded you of home - how the trees in the parks would shift from greens to yellows, reds, and oranges before fading into dark browns. It was strange to see all the trees do the same thing here - it made you wonder if Twisted Wonderland celebrated holidays like your world did.
You were so busy admiring the colors and deep in thought that you didn’t see where you were going and ran into the back of a very large student.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you smile apologetically, “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Well, then, watch it,” the student growled.
“Hey man, look what she did to your jacket,” another student pointed at the sleeve of his uniform’s coat.
The charcoal gray coat that all of the students were required to wear was typically a heavy cotton and ridiculously hard to damage - however, low and behold, one of the pointed ends of Azul’s mystery order had put a decently sized tear in the student’s coat. The tear revealed the golden yellow of the student’s vest, traveling from his mid back to just the top of his waist. You covered your mouth in shock as the student took his jacket off and examined the tear, rage budding on his features.
“You stupid - look what you did!”
“I’m sorry! It was an accident -” you try to explain.
“Do you know how much this cost?” the student shook the coat at you, “Now I have to buy a whole new one!”
“Just make her pay for it,” another student spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.
“P-Pay?”
“You damaged it, didn’t you? So, you’re the one who's going to buy me a new replacement.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money…” you bit your lip as you felt your heart rate jump up, clutching Azul’s package close to you, “I-If you give me a moment, I’ll go talk to my employer and see-”
“Oh, no way,” the student grabbed the front of your borrowed button down shirt, “You’re going to pay for the jacket one way or another.”
Something within you snapped, you had tried to be reasonable with these three and had apologized for the trouble; however, it seemed now that you could only run and hope that you got to Azul before these guys did something to you. Your face hardened as you gave the student holding you a kick to the groin with your knee, the student releasing you as he groaned in pain at the sudden attack. Once you were out of his clutches, you took off in the opposite direction as the three students shouted at you and chased after.
You clutched the package close to your chest as you bolted into the school and down a corridor, staying close to the windows, hoping for someone to see you as you shouted out for help. Your cries echoed off the high ceiling, alerting a few students and staff members - but it seemed everyone elected to ignore your screams for help as the three pursuers gradually came closer and closer.
You threw yourself around a corner which led out into the courtyard to throw them off.
Unfortunately, an uneven stone caught on your shoe, causing you to stumble forward and land on the ground, Azul’s package flying from your hands and landing with a sickening crack against the side of the wishing well. You tried to stand to move, but something heavy came down on your ankle, a loud snapping sound and a cry of agony echoing across the lawn.
“You stupid bitch! All you had to do was pay up,” the student’s voice from earlier came in your ear as a large fist grabbed a handful of your (h/c) hair, pulling your head up to look into his rage filled eyes, “but nooo, you just had to kick me then run and tried getting help.”
“I think punishment is in order - after all, what can someone without magic and a broken ankle do now?”
Something heavy collided with your face as tears welled up from the punch, the pain coming again from the opposite side. Your hair was released before you felt a heavy boot collide with your stomach as you were kicked across the lawn like a football, landing a few feet away from the wishing well. You tried to sit up with a groan, your arm coming around to clutch your side as you spat out blood. Your entire body was shaking and was sore - you were beginning to wonder if they had hit any vital organs. A large hand came forward and grabbed at your hair again, pulling you up as you cried out.
“Piece of fuckin’ shit, you don’t know when to give up, do you?”
You bit your lip, fighting to hold onto consciousness and the tears that were slowly slipping from your eyes. You were scared and were still wishing beyond a doubt that someone would find you and stop these three from beating you up more. However, the wish was short lived when you were dropped to the ground, causing you to wince as more pain came from your side.
“Time to say good-bye,” your eyes widened as you pulled your arms up toward your face, the student rearing his foot back with his aim clear in his dangerous eyes.
“Care to explain yourselves?” a familiar voice asked, stopping the students as their eyes widened in fear.
You peered out between your fingertips as the familiar figure of Azul came forward, his dorm overcoat fluttering behind him in the breeze as his walking cane tapped against the dirt. His face looked difficult to read as he came forward, eyes sharp and filled with rage.
“H-Headwarden Azul,” the student put his foot down and backed away from you, “W-We thought you were over by the colosseum.”
“I was - I was looking for my errand runner,” Azul’s gaze shifted between you and the three students before repeating, “Care to explain yourselves?”
“I-It’s nothing, honestly,” one of the students visibly shuddered.
“Y-yeah, just a m-misunderstanding is all!” the third student smiled wobbly.
“A misunderstanding, hm?” Azul cocked a brow, eyeing the students, before lifting his walking stick and tapping the head against his gloved palm like a baseball player would, “I will only ask one last time. What. Did. You. Do.”
“S-she destroyed my jacket!” the first student tried to explain, “She wouldn’t pay up for a replacement so-”
“So you decided to attack a defenseless angelfish who is under my protection?” Azul snickered, “How very foolish and pathetic…”
He snapped his fingers as Jade and Floyd appeared before the students. Azul came over and lifted you into his arms, “I’m taking her to the infirmary to get patched up - Jade, Floyd, have some fun.”
You ducked your head close to Azul’s chest, a headache slowly forming as he carried you away. You swallowed and began to open your mouth to speak, but Azul hushed you.
“Rest, (Y/N). You’re safe - there is nothing to be said nor to say. Just relax - I won’t let anything harm you.”
***
You must have fallen asleep because when you opened your eyes, you were in your room back in Octavinelle’s dorms. Azul was there, resting in a chair beside your bed with his arms folded over his chest and eyes closed. You shifted slightly, which caused the octomer to open his eyes - blinking rapidly before they fell on you as a smile crossed his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, standing and coming to sit beside you.
“Sore, tired,” you answered.
“That is typical after a fight,” Azul nodded, handing you a glass of water that had been perched on your bedside table, helping you to drink the cool liquid.
You smiled as he returned the glass to its spot before your face fell, “I’m so so sorry, Azul.”
“Whatever for, (Y/N)? You did nothing wrong.”
“Your package - you entrusted me to get it, but it probably got broken after that fight…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Azul’s fingertips curled under your chin, lifting it up to force you to look at him, “I’m not going to be concerned about a package that was damaged when you - someone I’ve been tasked to keep an eye on - was hurt severely. You’re very lucky. But, I do need to ask, what in the world happened? What did you do?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I… I accidentally ran into him because I was taking my time and admiring the changing colors of autumn, not paying attention to where I was going. When I ran into him, one of the parcel’s sharp points must’ve caught onto his coat and when I pulled away, it tore it.”
“NRC’s required suits are relatively expensive, so I can see why he was upset,” Azul nodded thoughtfully, “However, why did he attack you? You could’ve come to me and explained you needed money for a replacement jacket - ”
“I tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t listen and grabbed me. I kicked him so I could get away and was intending on going straight to you, but he…” you didn’t want to say anymore, the memory of what happened only a few hours ago was still painful in your mind.
Sensing your distress, Azul cooed to you, pulling you into his arms as his head landed on top of your head, hands running up and down your spine gently. You sniffled into his suit coat, hand coming up and gripping the back of his jacket, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort that was Azul Ashengrotto.
“Shh… it’s alright, (Y/N)... you’re safe now,” Azul murmured, his voice soft and soothing in your ear, “I know, I know… I can only imagine how afraid you were…”
You nod as you sniffle more.
“It’s alright, though… I’m right here beside you. Those monsters can never touch you again… but you have to promise me something.”
You look up at him as his eyes shine with pain and… something else.
“This world is cruel and wicked, (Y/N),” Azul reached up, resting a gloved hand against your cheek and wiping away the tears that gathered in your eyes, “It’s only I you can trust in this place - Jade and Floyd as well - your only friends. We can’t protect you if you are away from our sight, so you must stay here in Octavinelle - where we can always be within an arm’s reach.”
“B-But, what about the others? Deuce? Ace? Grim? Surely they…”
“(Y/N)... did they come to help you during your darkest hour? Who was there when you were getting beaten by those mongrels?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing slightly, “I did not see Deuce or Ace. Nor did I see Grim or Trey… the twins did not see any of them nor Riddle or Cater either. Who came for you?”
“...You did.”
“Exactly,” Azul nodded, “I will always be there for you. Jade will always be there. Floyd, as strange as it may seem, will also always be there.”
You nod slowly, tucking yourself against his chest as you realize the dark truth. They had abandoned you, left you to fend for yourself while you were getting hurt - it was Azul that came and found you and it was Jade and Floyd that put the trio in their place. The three of them were the only ones who cared about it - showing you love and support through these last two months in this strange, dark, twisted world. Tears fell faster as you sniffled under the calming strokes of Azul’s fingertips.
If you had happened to look up at that point, you would have seen the octomer grinning devilishly down at you, his eyes of pale blue filled with possessive love and adoration.
***
Azul ventured out later after you had fallen asleep with the twins in tow. The trio met with Leona in the lounge of Savanaclaw’s dorm, the octomer pulling out a vial of strange green liquid.
“As promised,” the headwarden of Octavinelle presented the vial to Leona, “for services well rendered.”
“This is it?” Leona snatched the vial, inspecting it closely, “I thought there’d be more.”
“Too much and the power will cause the user to overblot,” Jade explained, “We don’t want a repeat incident.”
Leona hummed in agreement, looking back toward the trio, “Speaking of which, what do you intend on doing since you hurt three of my best players with that little incident?”
“If anything, it’s compensation for us after what you did to three of our best players,” Azul let out a shrug, “but remember, Leona - there’s a much bigger fish to fry in the ocean that has nothing to do with me or the twins nor anyone in Octavinelle.”
Leona grumbled, turning his head, “Ruggie!”
The hyena appeared out of nowhere, landing next to Leona with a soft thump, “You called?”
“Take this,” Leona handed the vial to him, “On the day of the Tournament, you know what to do.”
Ruggie snickered with a nod.
“Well, we’ll be going,” Azul smiled, turning away, “pleasure doing business with you, Kingscholar.”
“And I hope that you live a long life with that soulmate of yours.”
“Oh, after that little incident - I doubt she’ll be going anywhere… at least for a while.”
***
You do not comprehend (You are my one defender)
Why invite their calumny and consternation, stay in here
Be faithful to me, grateful to me
Do as I say, obey
And stay in here…
#twisted wonderland#azul ashengrotto#floyd leech#jade leech#twst azul#twst floyd#twst jade#twstファンアート#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere#yandere azul x reader#leona kingscholar#fanfiction writer#fanfic#yandere x reader#tw yandere#bully#bullying#language#some violence#yandere soulmate au#twst soulmate au
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THE RISE AND FALL OF A MIDWEST PRINCESS BY CHAPPELL ROAN LYRIC STARTERS
feel free to change phrasing as you see fit
“I’m so sick of online love”
“Um, can you play a song with a fucking beat?”
“Ladies, you know what I mean and you know what you need”
“She was a playboy, Brigitte Bardot. She showed me things I didn't know”
“She did it right there out on the deck, Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck”
“I just wanna get to know ya guess I didn't quite think it through”
“Fell in love with the thought of you”
“Baby, why don't you come over?”
“Want me to fuck you? Baby, I will 'cause I really want to”
“Well, back at my house I've got a California king. Okay, maybe it's a twin bed And some roommates”
“I heard you like magic I've got a wand and a rabbit”
“Baby, let's get freaky, get kinky, Let's make this bed get squeaky”
“Nothing good happens when it's late and you're dancing alone"
“Cause after midnight I'm feeling kinda freaky, maybe it's the club lights”
“I kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don't mind”
“I love a little drama, let's start a bar fight”
“I really want your hands on my body”
“Baby, put your hands up, Be a freak in the club”
“I'd suggest the jazz bar on Mary Ann Street but you'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads”
“I'll meet you for coffee ‘cause if we have wine you'll say that you want me. I know that's a lie”
“If I didn't love you it would be fine”
“I'd rather feel something than nothing at all”
“If I didn't trust you it would be fine”
“We've done this before and I don't need it anymore”
“Let's not do coffee. Let's not even try”
“I've heard so many rumors that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch”
“I thought you thought of me better”
“It's hard being casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser”
“I try to be the chill girl but honestly, I'm not”
“Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it, I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry dude you didn’t”
“I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell”
“Never waste a Friday night on a first date"
“And so, I take him to this bar, this man wouldn't dance, He didn't ask a single question, and he was wearing these fugly jeans”
“He doesn't have what it takes to be with a girl like me”
“I'm through with all these hyper mega bummer boys like you”
“I need a super graphic ultra modern girl like me”
“We're hot, we're drunk”
“Look at her moving, baby, she's the one”
“At every party we're the party, shaking our asses and making out while the world collapses”
“Get up off your feet, get up on that bar”
“I could be the one, or your new addiction”
“I don't want the world, but I'll take this city”
“Call me hot, not pretty”
“Baby, do you like this beat? I made it so you'd dance with me”
“You can take me hot to go”
“I try not to care but it hurts my feelings”
“You don't have to stare, comе here, get with it. No one's touched me there in a damn hot minute”
“Baby, don't you like this beat? I made it so you'd sleep with me”
“What's it take to get your number?”
“What's it take to bring you home?”
“You coming home with me?”
“If karma's real, hope it's your turn”
“It's hot when you have a meltdown In the front of your house and you're getting kicked out”
“It's hot when you're drinking downtown and you're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth”
“People say I'm jealous, but my kink is watching You ruin your life, You losing your mind”
“People say I'm jealous, but my kink is karma”
“Wishing you the best, in the worst way”
“No need to be hateful in your fake Gucci sweater”
“Do you picture me like I picture you?”
“Am I in the frame from your point of view?”
“So, tell me now all your perversions”
“I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you”
“I guess we could pretend we didn't cross a line”
“If you really wanna leave I'll never make you stay”
“Whatever you decide I will understand and it will all be fine”
“And love is a kaleidoscope how it works, I'll never know”
“I know you wanted me to stay but I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA”
“Won't make my mama proud it's gonna cause a scene”
“On the stage in my heels it's where I belong”
“Every night's another reason why I left it all”
“Don't think I've left you all behind”
“I know you're probably busy but I would love to see you”
“I'd love if you knew you were on my mind”
“Boys suck and girls I've never tried and we both know we're getting drunk tonight”
“Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine”
“I know you want it, baby, you can have it”
“If I don't try, then it's my loss”
“Won't you fucking touch me?”
“I just want to touch you”
“I want all of your love”
“Thought I'd be cool in California, I’d make you proud”
“To think I almost had it going but I let you down”
“I fantasize what we would do and how would it taste?”
“Can we drag it out and never quit?”
“Oh my god, you are heaven sent With your dirty mind”
#it finally let me post this god bless#roleplay meme#roleplay prompts#roleplay starters#roleplay starter#pride#pride month#chappell roan#rp memes#rp starters#lyric starters#rp prompt#rp starter#sapphic rp
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oh, its what you do to me pt.1
chris x reader (delilah)
warnings: cursing, suggestive but no actual smut (yet), mentions of death and grief
a/n: this is my first story. It might be a little rough but I hope you enjoy!!! ; no requests
characters- matt sturniolo, chris sturniolo, nick sturniolo, delilah moore, aria moore
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When I was 16 and my sister was 13, both our parents died in a car accident. It was the hardest day of my entire life. Immediately, the sturniolo family took us in and we have been living with them ever since.
the sturniolos have always been close family friends of ours and often, my family would go over to their house for dinner, or just to hang out as one big family.
I guess I would say that I'm close with Matt and Nick but I'm definitely closest with Chris. We have the most in common, and we overall just clicked the best from the beginning.
On that day, December 4, 2019, my life completely changed. I got the call from my sister and my heart immediately sank to the floor. I broke down sobbing before rushing to the scene and falling into my sisters arms. We held each other and mourned the loss of our parents who had raised us and given us such a wonderful life.
When the sturniolo family had found out about what had happened they got to the scene as fast as they could and reassured me and my sister that everything was going to be okay. I had always looked at Mary-lou like a second mother; someone I could always count on to treat me like one of her own children and love me as she loves them too.
They took both me and my sister in right away. I remember that night, we were sobbing in the triplets arms. I’ll never forget it. They planned the funeral and paid for everything since all the money I have is from my job and I don’t have a lot, and my sister doesn’t have a job.
Ever since, the triplets and their family have done so much for me and my sister and i’m so grateful for them.
-jump to a year later-
my room is in the same hallway as all three triplets and my sister. i wake up from a good ass nap and I realize that it’s 7 PM. “ugh” i groan, annoyed that I had just wasted the day. I guess Chris heard me from the hallway because he knocked on my door while cracking it open. “you good?” he says confused. “yeah i just took a long ass nap and i didn’t mean to” “damn sorry bout that” chris says with a smirk and closes your door. i roll over and sigh and i decided to gather myself and not be lazy for the whole day. I make myself get out of bed and wash my face and I put on a little make up just to look presentable.
I put on a hoodie and grey sweatpants and i just threw my hair into a messy bun because i don’t feel like doing my hair since it’s later in the day and im lazy. As soon as i walk out the door i bump into chris who was seemingly about to open my door. “sorry” i say with a giggle. “you’re good delilah, i was just wondering if you wanted to come watch a movie with me, matt, nick, and aria?” “sure” i say with a smile. “let me grab my blanket real quick” “okay” chris says as he heads downstairs.
The boys are all sat on the couch with the movie “the conjuring” queued on the tv. my sister races down the stairs and plops down on the couch next to matt and nick. i look at the screen and say “really” with a confused tone. they all laugh. they know i’m a big baby when it comes to horror movies. “you’ll be fine, delilah” nick says “its just a movie”. “yeah its stupid, and don't worry, if you get scared you can just hide under the blanket" Chris says. "like a little baby" Chris says softly but just loud enough so nick, matt, and aria could hear and we all start dying laughing. Chris motions me over to him. He is sitting on the bigger part of the couch with more room. In my opinion, it's the comfiest part of the couch so I'm glad he picked it. I sit on the couch next to him while putting my blanket over both of us. The blanket is huge so it covers us nicely and keeps us warm. A few feet away from us are Nick, aria, and matt are all snuggled under a cozy blanket. I look at them and smile. They're so adorable, I think to myself.
The movie starts and my back and neck start to hurt so I search for a more comfortable position. Chris notices "what's up?" he says softly so no one could hear but me. "oh, nothing my back and neck are just killing me" I say with my hand rubbing the back of my neck. "okay, do whatever you need to make yourself comfortable" Chris says with a smile. "okay" I say while smiling back. I am closer with Chris than I am with matt and nick so it is not unfamiliar for us to be physical in a platonic way (of course). I put my head on Chris' chest and shift my body sideways a little. Chris looks down at me and tucks my hair behind my ears before looking back up at the movie.
All of a sudden there's a jump scare and I hide under the blanket. Chris starts laughing and so do matt and nick. "it's okay D, nothings going to hurt you" Chris says with a reassuring tone. "I know" I say with a tinge of heat flooding my cheeks from embarrassment. We continue watching the movie and when the movie is over, all of us go upstairs. The triplets and my sister say goodnight to me and we all head to our rooms.
I suddenly wake up when I hear footsteps heading downstairs and I check my phone. It's 3:20 AM. I put on my slippers and I walk downstairs to see who it is. It's Chris. standing in the kitchen, shirtless. the moonlight from the window shining onto his body. he looks gorgeous and I am taken aback by the sight that is in front of my eyes. he's popping open a Pepsi can. After he takes a sip he turns around and looks at me. I'm standing in the doorway looking at him in a way I never thought I would before. "hey" Chris says. "what are you doing up?" "I heard footsteps and I was just checking to see what was going on" I say as I walk over to the fridge and I take out cranberry juice. "oh okay" Chris says. "what's that look on your face for" chris says playfully. "its nothing" I say while blushing and trembling a little bit from this newfound feeling I never imagined feeling for Chris. "okay" chris says, not believing that its nothing. "why are you drinking a Pepsi at 3 AM chris, thats crazy" I say while giggling while I snatch the Pepsi can out of his hands and run downstairs with it. He runs after me and we're both giggling like idiots. I squeal as he catches up to me and wraps his arms around me pushing us both on the couch in attempt to steal his Pepsi back. "nuh uh" i say, struggling to keep him from grabbing the Pepsi. Suddenly he flips me around while he grabs his Pepsi from my hands and he pins me on the couch while taunting me with the Pepsi he just stole back from me. "hey!" I say feeling defeated but still giggling. Chris says "don't ever do that again" while laughing. suddenly my heart starts beating faster. He still has me pinned to the couch. We're looking into each others eyes and I feel that feeling once more. I start to feel heat in between my legs because I don't know why but him pinning me down like that made butterflies fill my stomach and wish he would never move. But he did. He slowly moved off of me. "seriously if you ever do that again, Delilah" "I promise, never" I taunt him while thinking to myself that I will definitely do that again sometime without a doubt. we both head back to the kitchen and then back up to our rooms.
As I lay in bed, I can't help but think about that feeling that I felt when I was with Chris today. It's new and scary and I've never felt that way about Chris before. The triplets and I had always been really close but never have I ever had thoughts like this for any of them until now. I think about the way Chris tucked my hair behind my ear, the way he reassured me that nothing was going to hurt me during the movie, the way he looked while the moonlight shone on his shirtless body and his perfect hair, the way he pinned me down and looked into my eyes and the way that it made me wet. it. made. me. wet. Chris sturniolo made me wet. My mind travels and I wonder if Chris is thinking about me right now, about the moments we shared today that gave me that feeling. that familiar yet so unfamiliar feeling. I wonder if he felt that feeling too. I find myself fantasizing over if he were to come into my room right now and do unspeakable things to me, but I quickly catch myself. "what the fuck??" I snap myself out of the trance "no no no this can't happen" "never" I say to myself while rolling my eyes and sighing with disgust. I roll over in defeat and I doze off to sleep.
I thought sleeping it off would help, but my dream is about chris.....
-------
stay tuned for part 2..
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt#chris#nick#sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo
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pinky promises | little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis (wc: 1,435) - A/N: I know, it's been forever, but I didn't want to leave you guys high and dry. so, enjoy a sweet fic about E and his baby who absolutely does not want to sleep. btw this is defo not proofread so sorry in advance! <3
It was 11:30 at night, and you knew damn well that you should've been sleeping some odd couple of hours ago. But lo and behold, your insomnia just wouldn't let you. The bigger problem wasn't necessarily that you couldn't sleep, it was that you had gotten into the habit of refusing to let yourself sleep.
Tonight was one of the nights where your brain just wouldn't stop going. All the lights in your room were on, there was a record spinning, and you were doodling random things on a spare piece of paper. You couldn't stop thinking of all the things going on in your personal life, with the main thought being that you weren't doing enough for the people around you. You were well aware that not sleeping wouldn't help the crappy emotions bubbling up, but at the same time, you felt like you didn't deserve to rest. As you laid on your bed and doodled mindless shapes, you couldn't help but wonder: "why does he keep me around?"
You'd lived with Elvis for a long while now, and it was a far cry from the life you came from. You grew up doing everything and then some. And now, you had people doing it all for you; there was always the maids running around the house, completing the housework and tasks that needed to be done. There was Mary, who was always cooking whatever you or E would request. And of course, there was the Mafia, who were always scrambling to complete whatever task their boss had requested of them. This left you with lots of free time. Most of it was spent with Elvis, galavanting on whatever adventure he had thought up, but quite a bit of it was spent in your own head. You felt guilty, like you were mooching off of the man you loved so dearly. Between those thoughts and the busyness of your life, you had pushed your regression to the back-burner of your brain; you already felt guilty that Elvis had to support yet another person in his life, nevermind a little with lots of emotionally demanding needs. No, you couldn't do that to him, but a small part of you knew it was (almost) inhumane to be doing this to yourself.
Your regression was something incredibly dear to you, and your boyfriend understood this fact very well. The last time you had genuinely regressed was months ago, and you denying yourself your biggest coping skill was killing you internally. Elvis had tried mentioning the subject once or twice, but was quickly shut down by you. You couldn't bear talking about it, knowing that it wouldn't get you any closer to being comforted. Tonight was one of those nights where your brain was screaming, pleading for you to help yourself and just give in. If not to regressing, then to sleep. But no, you were stubborn, you needed to stay awake.
Deciding that you were bored of doodling, you hopped off your bed. You stood up for a minute and swayed where you were standing, confident that you were okay to walk. Your vision began to blur and you could see stars, but you were determined to keep yourself up. Just as you went to take a step, your legs gave out from beneath you. You yelped the second your body hit the floor, more from shock than from pain. As soon as Elvis heard the thump from downstairs, he ran as quickly as he could from the table where all the guys were gathered, up to your bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, he had to take a pause and catch his breath. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he shook the discomfort away and kept on going towards your room. Swinging the door open, his eyes darted around the room before landing on you, sprawled out on the floor, panting. As you locked eyes with him, he spoke, "nungen, what're you doin' on the floor?"
You looked around, as if trying to figure out where you were. "I…I don't really know. One minute I was fine, but just as I went to get up, my vision went all fuzzy. Now I'm here." You gestured around you with a dry laugh.
Elvis looked around your room; seeing the record spinning and realizing that your lights were on, he asked the obvious.
"You keepin' yourself up again?" Your eyes dropped to the floor, and a small sense of shame filled you as he caught you in the act.
"Elvis, I've told you. It's never enough."
He knew you'd been struggling recently, both with your sleeping patterns and your mental health. You had become increasingly more agitated with him, refusing to let anyone help you with even the most mundane tasks. You had pushed him away, both physically and emotionally. He had an inkling why, and although it hurt, he wasn't going to steer you into even more discomfort.
Disagreeing with your sentiment, he shook his head as he moved to help you stand. Putting his hands beneath your arms and lifting you up, you got a pang of comfort in your chest. For just a moment, you felt like his baby, the little girl you would always be to him. But as if it was planned, the feeling dissipated and was replaced with that same shame you had felt just moments ago. Once you got your footing, you craned your head up to look at your caregiver.
His hair was tousled, his eyes were soft, and his features held something that could only be described as an air of concern. As your eyes scanned his face, you hoped for something that would break the silence hanging heavy in the air. Elvis, who could read you like a book, pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. And softly, as if not to spook you, asked, "what's goin' on inside that yittle head of yours?"
And that was all it took for the floodgates of your brain to break as you fully regressed within a matter of seconds. Your eyes watered, and before you had the chance to respond to his question, your daddy was pulling you into his arms.
"Daddy," you cried into his chest. "Been needin' daddy, but couldn' ask," you sobbed.
With how you were feeling, this was about all that you could manage to say. But to Elvis, that was all it took for him to make sense of it. You had needed to regress, but didn't want to "burden" him, simple as that. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, and placed his chin on top of your head.
So this is what was getting you so worked up.
"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered. He couldn't help but tear up as the realization hit him: you thought of yourself as a burden upon him. How could you, the little ray of sunshine that broke through all of the crass darkness in his life, be a burden? "My beautiful baby, how could lil' old you ever be a burden on daddy? You know that ain't true." His voice cracked slightly on the last sentence, making you cry harder.
As much as you believed Elvis' words, you couldn't help but feel a haunting sense of overwhelm; at the love you were receiving or the sudden release of emotions, you couldn't decipher, but it was an amalgamation of feelings that had been longing to escape your little heart.
"C'mon," he spoke, "look at me." He gently pulled away from the hug, and put his hand beneath your chin so as to direct your attention towards him. Seeing the look on your face broke his heart.
"Honey, you don't need to worry about doin' nothin' in this house. You're just a dolly, and dollies don't need to be worryin' about doin' chores or nothin' of the sort. You bein' your cute itty-bitty lil' self is all I need. Can you do that?" He finished off with a small smile. You sniffled, and nodded aimlessly as you went right back in for another hug.
"M' sorry daddy. Buntyn's feelin' real pitiful tonight," you mumbled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he adjusted his arms around you. "I know, yittle. C'mon. We're gon' have Mary fix you some angel milk, and then we'll get all cozy. How's that sound?" You peered up at him. "Satnin gon' cuddle wit' me?" You asked innocently. He gave a small laugh, and placed a kiss on your forehead.
"Satnin will always cuddle wit' his baby. I pinky promise."
#elvis presley#elvis agere#cg elvis#caregiver elvis#sweet beans I luv him#gosh one hug from e could heal my soul#missing satnin hours :(#(starting that as a new tag btw)#anyways I'm gonna try to write more#love you all!#70s!elvis
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