#now i don't hardly know her but i think i could love her
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"Would you love me if I was a worm?" - @into-the-jeggyverse 's jegulus bingo - word count: 646
"I'm not asking him that," Regulus rolled his eyes, leaning back and and crossing his arms. "That's absolutely absurd."
"It is not!" Pandora argued from next to him on a couch in the Slytherin Common Room. "It's...a test of loyalty!"
"To as him if he would love me in a situation that would literally never happen?" Regulus drawled, pursing his lips. "I don't think so."
"I mean...it could at least be entertaining," Dorcas shrugged as she sat cross-legged on the floor. "He'd probably think it's funny."
"Well. I don't," Regulus said dismissively. "It's stupid."
"You're stupid," Pandora mumbled under her breath.
Regulus just rolled his eyes and stood up. "Shall we go, then? I think we're late enough to Pettigrew's stupid birthday party, yes?"
"Fine," both girls agreed, standing as well.
-------
Three hours later and Regulus was completely drunk. Drunk in the way that he couldn't walk straight. Dunk in the way that he was slurring his words. Drunk in the way that he couldn't stop thinking about the conversation he'd had with Pandora and Dorcas earlier.
It was stupid, he kept telling himself. A ridiculous hypothetical that didn't matter.
But his sloshed brain wouldn't let go of the idea. Wouldn't give up on finding out the answer to the question. Suddenly, it seemed unbelievably important.
So he stumbled up off the arm of the armchair where he was perched, looking around the room for a familiar face with wire-rimmed glasses.
"Alright, Reg?" Evan called from his spot in the armchair Regulus had been on top of, hardly visible as Barty was seated happily on his lap, kissing up his neck.
"Fine," he mumbled, catching a glimpse of tousled hair and glass lenses. He was on a mission now.
"Potter!" he called, loud enough that he would have been embarrassed if he were sober. "Oi! James!"
And as he walked across the room, James turned, eyes lighting up as he saw him. Fuck, he was lovely. He made a beeline there, almost running into more than one person.
"Reg!" James beamed, catching him on another little stumble. "Having a good time?"
Trying to ignore the way his skin grew hot under James's touch, Regulus focused on the older boy's face. "I...have a question," he mumbled, looping his arms around the back of his neck. He needed to know now.
"What is it, baby?" James asked, voice light and happy. "Merlin, you're adorable when you're like this, you realize?"
He rolled his eyes as the affection, still trying to stay on topic. "James," he pouted, trying to nonverbally implore his boyfriend to take his concern seriously. "This is....this is important."
"Alright, love. What is it?" James asked, wrapping his arms around Regulus's waist and pulling him into an embrace, his bright smile almost taking Regulus's breath away.
"Would you...would you love me if...if I was a worm?" Regulus demanded blearily, eyes wide as he tried to stare at James, mind spinning a bit, hoping he would take the question as seriously as it felt at the moment.
Immediately, the Gryffindor broke into a peal of laughter. It caught Regulus off-guard and he felt his face twist into an irritated grimace before the taller boy paused, hands moving to either side of his face. "Reg! Reg, of course I would, love," James assured him, kissing him on the nose.
Grimace fading quickly, Regulus felt himself break into an elated grin. Ha! He was right. The whole thing was stupid. Of course James would love him no matter what. He never should have doubted it. Stupid Dorcas and Pandora.
"Alright, then," he murmured, slumping a bit in James's arms. Suddenly, he was tired. "Hey, Jamie?"
"Yes, love?"
"I think I'm drunk," he mumbled, moving to breathe in the scent of James's cologne, nose pressed against his chest.
Another laugh. "That's alright, baby. I love you no matter what."
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders harry potter#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#sirius black#marauders fanfic#james potter x regulus black#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus microfic
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Against All Odds.
Summary: Reader is Kate Laswell's niece, Laswell had noticed the look you gave Price and she immediately made you promise not to do anything with him. Laswell knew you were a troublemaker, but she hoped you kept your promise. But everyone likes trouble.
Word count: around 6.1k or something
Warnings: uhh semi-public sex, smut, some swearing but not awful (even tho price has got a mouth on him), badly written british words, office sex and i think that's it? uh good luck if not. also on my ao3 which is the same as here, might be easier to read idk. i'm not good with tumblr 🙏 i wrote this at 3am and i did NOT proof read
It had been a while since you've seen your aunt Kate, you hardly ever went to her office. Why? Who knows, CIA buildings freak you out. You had clearance to visit, but still. They were all trained spies, everyone would be nervous, no?
But, since you finally had time to visit her, you figured you should before she found out you were in town and decided not to visit her. Aunt Kate knew everything, and she made sure you knew that too. Growing up, she was mostly the one to take care of you. Her and her wife, taking you under their wing even though you were a troublemaker.
"You're not my aunt." You said, leaning against the door of your aunt's office. A tall, broad man stood in front of Laswell's desk. He was tall, strong, and definitely hot. Even the bucket hat on his head looked oddly attractive.
You raised your eyebrow slightly, crossing your arms as you eyed the older man up and down. Price had a smirk playing on his lips, as if he was amused you chose to eye him like he was a piece of meat.
"I see you've met John," Laswell sighed, making her way past you and towards her desk. She was less amused with the way you were eyeing Price.
You smiled, making your way towards her. "Aunt Kate!" Your voice made the older woman smile and her eyes softened ever so slightly, though you knew her long enough to know the difference.
She wrapped her arms around you in a quick hug before she pulled back, sitting down in her chair. Her desk was filled with files and folders, it hardly had any room to see the glass table.
"What brings you by, dear? I assume you've finished school then?" She asked, handing files to Price. You assumed she asked to see him before you randomly popped up.
"Oh, indeed. And you thought I'd get kicked out before I would finish." You teased, your eyes glancing back at Price for a moment. He was too hot to keep your eyes off of him.
"Don't even think about it. He's 37, you're what? 26 now?" Laswell said, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.
"Age is just a number, aunt Kate. Eleven years is nothing." You smirked, keeping your eyes on Price. Even he had a slight smirk on his lips, he was clearly amused by your antics. And also wanting to put you in your place for your bratty attitude.
"John, leave. We'll discuss this later about some upcoming missions. And the things you did on the last mission." Laswell pointed towards the door, clearly wanting Price to leave. Price simply nodded, turning and leaving. Once the door was closed, Laswell looked back at you.
"Promise me you won't do anything with John. He's been my friend for many years, I do not want anything to happen between you two." Her voice was firm, yet a sound of a plea could be heard.
You sighed, rolling your eyes slightly. "Promise. But you're no fun, aunt Kate."
You and Laswell caught up for a while, talking about school mostly. CIA and their secrets, she couldn't talk about her job. Though, you didn't mind because you loved ranting. But she was busy, so you decided to leave and let her.. do whatever she did in the CIA.
You decided to stay in England for a while, knowing your aunt was staying on the 141 base for a mission or whatever. She didn't give details. You stayed with her and her wife, a temporary place on base until they had to leave. Being on base meant running into Price constantly, whether you were leaving for a workout or getting a simple snack from the shops.
No matter what; you saw him. You've met his team too, Ghost was quiet and Soap was.. well, he was funny. Though, you could tell he probably had some anger issues lying underneath his funny demeanor. All funny people did.
"Funny seeing you here, eh?" Price asked, sitting down next to you. You had a cup of coffee in your hands, a book in the other. You raised your eyebrow slightly, a small smile playing on your lips.
You leaned forward slightly, closing your book before you spoke. "Either that, or you're following me. I must say.. I'm flattered, Captain."
"Oh, please. Can't a lad get some coffee? You have a mouth on you, love." His voice was rough, but not in a mean way. Just from all the cigars he smoke.
"My mouth bothers you?" You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest. "Maybe you should fill it. If you catch my drift."
Your comment had left Price speechless, he didn't expect that from someone like you, Laswell's niece. To say he was intrigued was an understatement. Price was always all work and no play, except for the 'play' he got in the field. Which was just defying orders and doing what he saw fit.
After a moment, Price chuckled and shook his head. The older man was clearly amused and honestly, a bit flustered. "Careful, darling. I might just take ya up on that offer. Might help with the cockiness you have."
Price leaned forward against the table, clasping his hands together. "If yer serious, love, I will gladly do it. What Kate doesn't know won't hurt her."
You raised your eyebrow, considering your options. If your aunt ever found out, she'd feel betrayed by both you and Price. Especially because you promised her. But he was so fine, how could you pass up this opportunity?
"You're right. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
Those words were all Price needed, and suddenly you found yourself following him back to base. You knew you shouldn't be doing this, but you just couldn't help yourself. He led you to his quarters, which was different than most. He had his own bathroom, that was a plus.
You hardly registered the door shutting because Price had you pinned up against the wall, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. A sharp gasp escaped your mouth and you attempted to struggle against his grip, though it was no use. His free hand sneaked around your waist, pulling you into his body.
Next thing you knew, his lips were slamming onto yours. You could feel his beard tickling your skin, though you were slightly distracted by the kiss. You expected him to be rough, but his kiss was somewhat.. gentle. You felt like putty in his hands, and if he wasn't holding you up, you wouldn't be standing. His hand moved towards your ass, lifting you into the air.
Your legs immediately wrapped around his legs, while your arms wrapped around his neck. Price hummed in satisfaction, carrying you towards his bed and he plopped you down into the middle. He looked down at you, your hair sprawled out onto his blankets while your chest rose and fell.
"Strip." He commanded, his tone firm and serious. You almost chuckled, wondering if he was truly serious. But it appeared he was. With a sigh, you sat up and started to unbutton your blouse. It only took you a short time to get your clothes off, considering Price was being impatient.
He hummed in approval, his eyes wandering your body. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you, touch every inch of skin he could. Price unbuckled his belt, tossing it onto the floor. Then, he unzipped his pants until he was able to get it pants off, along with his boxers. He was left in just his gray shirt. Your eyes widened slightly at his size, not only was he large, but he was thick too. Your mouth watered at the sight.
"Now.. why don't you put that pretty mouth to good use?" He moved closer towards the edge of the bed, though he just stood there. You were confused slightly, but you obliged, moving towards him.
"Ah, ah," he tsked. Confused, you went to speak but he cut you off before any words could get out. "I want you to lie on your back and hang your head off the bed."
His request seemed easy enough, though it sounded like it was going to hurt. Being upside down, trying to fit his thick cock into your mouth. Regardless, you nodded and went onto your back. Once you got close enough, Price tapped the tip of his dick on your lips, wanting you to open.
You opened your mouth, running your tongue along the tip of his dick, a deep groan escaping Price's lips. You moved your tongue lower, coating every inch with your spit before he got impatient, shoving his cock into your mouth. You could barely fit half of it inside your mouth, it felt like he was splitting your mouth into two.
"Fuck, you feel bloody brilliant. Look so beautiful like this." Price praised you, his hand caressing your forehead. His words made you want to do your best for him.
You started bobbing your head, the best you could in your position anyway. Grunts and groans left Price's mouth, his hips thrusting to meet your pace. You gagged, feeling the tears prickle your eyes as you felt his cock go deeper into your throat. You hallowed your cheeks, making Price groan in pleasure. You reached your hands up, playing with his balls as he shoved his dick down your throat. You could tell he was close, the way his balls tightened and his pace got sloppy. Without warning, you felt hot cum shooting down your throat, to which you swallowed as much of it as you could.
He pulled back once he emptied his load down your throat, so you sat up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "You did good, darling. That mouth definitely was filled, eh?" Price smirked, climbing onto the bed next to you.
You took the opportunity to sit on his lap, your dripping cunt rubbing against his thigh. His hands found your hips, gently kneading your skin. "I have another hole you can fill."
"Naughty girl." Price taunted, though he loved the way you spoke. So filthy and dirty, making him turned on more than he already was. Feeling your dripping cunt against his thigh made him groan, lifting your hips up slightly so he could run his fingers through your folds. He brought them to his mouth, his tongue licking his fingers clean.
"Taste bloody delicious. Could eat you all day. But for now, I need to be inside your perfect cunt." Price growled, taking his dick into his hands. You smirked, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. He lifted his hips, forcing the tip of his cock into your entrance.
He was bigger than you've ever had before, making your pussy feel like it was tearing as he pushed the last few inches in. You whimpered, causing Price to chuckle. Something about your whine had made him want to take control of you, like you were his. No one else's.
He suddenly flipped you two so you were on your back, his hands lifted your legs around his waist. He started slowly thrusting his cock into your tight heat, low moans leaving your mouth as you felt every vein of his cock. God, he felt amazing inside of you. You rocked your hips back and forth, matching his pace as he slowly sped up. He couldn't hold back, not with the pretty noises you made.
Your cunt was dripping down his cock, every time he went deeper, your juices followed. You gripped the sheets, trying to keep your moans quiet so the whole damn base didn't hear you. But it was difficult with the way he pounded into you, like a man touch deprived. He gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock, the tip hitting that spongy spot inside of you. He moved one hand to your clit, his fingers rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Ohhh, fuck! I'm close, John! Don't stop!" You choked out, your head falling backwards against the pillows. Price didn't slow down, nor give you any words. He simply sped up, his balls hitting your ass with every thrust. You were seeing stars, considering your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"Come for me, baby. Come on my cock." Price panted, his voice full of lust and desire. His words were all you needed to be pushed over the edge, your legs shaking slightly while your back arched off the bed. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, forcing a loud groan from his lips. A few seconds after you came, Price hit a deep spot inside of your pussy, his hot cum filling your tight heat. He slowed his movements, pushing his cum deeper inside of you untill there was nothing left and his cock softened.
He pulled out of you once you came down from your high, a small smile on your lips. "You're amazing at that." You chuckled, your eyes half lidded as you looked at him. Price simply smirked, pushing two fingers into your cunt, making sure his cum didn't leak out of you. You didn't know why, but the scene made you more wet.
Eventually, Price got off the bed and grabbed a wet rag to clean you both up before you got into the shower together. You knew from that day on, there was no one else you'd want to fuck you. He felt too damn good, no one could possibly make you come like that.
And from that day on, no one else but Price fucked you. Any chance he got, he was pulling you to his office or his quarters to fuck the living shit out of you. You simply didn't mind, it was just sex, right? That's what you two told each other from the start, just sex.
You've been trying to spend as much time with your aunt as possible, to make sure she wasn't getting suspicious. But you could tell she was, the way she looked at you when you came home late or not at all until the next morning. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. But she was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. For now, at least.
"You wouldn't lie to me, right?" Laswell asked, sitting next to you at a table. You raised your eyebrow, setting down a piece of toast.
"No, why do you ask?"
"Just making sure," Laswell clicked her tongue, like she didn't believe you. "You should know better than to lie to me. I've always found out, haven't I?"
Her words lowkey scared you a bit, she couldn't possibly know about you and Price. You were discreet, even keeping the marks in places no one but Price could see. You played it off with a cheeky smile, taking a bite of your toast. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid, aunt Kate."
"Good." She said simply, standing up from the table and leaving you alone. You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you were holding, shaking your head in disbelief.
You tried being more careful after that conversation, not wanting to be caught by your aunt Kate. That'd be one awkward conversation, for both you and Price. Though, the risk of getting caught was such a thrill. Knowing you were doing something you shouldn't be doing.. you always did enjoy causing trouble.
While you have been more discreet and careful, you started spending more time with Price. Mostly just sitting in his office while he worked on paperwork, you'd sit on his cock until he was done and then he'd fuck you senseless. And sometimes you'd just sit and talk, though you did the talking most of the time. Price always listened, even when he was busy.
You've learned things about Price, what he does and doesn't like during sex. Things he likes to be called, what he doesn't like. Kinks, etc. things you haven't tried, he'd talk you through it. God, it was so hot when he'd talk you through it.
"Are you almost done yet?" You whined, shifting on his cock. You weren't sure how long you've been warming his cock, but it felt like eternity. You desperately needed him to move, your poor pussy was clenching and unclenching around him. You could feel your juices dripping down your thighs and onto his pants.
Price sighed, setting his pen down on his files. "Quit yer whining, you ungrateful thing." He pulled you off of his cock, causing you to whine again. He pushed your shoulders, making you get onto your knees. He kicked you back slightly, so you were underneath his desk.
"Quit complaining and fill that mouth with my cock. If you do good, I'll think about ruining yer pretty pussy." Price grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging you towards his dick. You nodded eagerly, wanting to do something rather than bloody nothing.
You swirled your tongue around his tip, then down his shaft and back up to the top. You did it a few times before Price got impatient, tugging on your hair. "Quit teasing. Don't make me punish you and deny your orgasms."
Your eyes widened slightly, not wanting to be punished when you were already horny and needy for his cock to be inside of you. You took his cock in your mouth, flattening your tongue to take him deeper in your throat. Price groaned in approval, using his free hand to go back to signing paperwork.
You bobbed your head up and down, your spit falling down the corner of your mouth. You used one of your hands to hold onto his thigh, while the other wrapped around his cock. Working together, both your mouth and your hand made Price grunt in pleasure. He wasn't one to moan much, but you knew he enjoyed the way you sucked him off.
A knock on the door made you freeze, but Price shoved your head down, forcing you to continue. The thought of someone knowing sent a shiver down your spine, your thighs clenching together to feel some type of friction. You couldn't touch yourself, Price never allowed that.
"Come in." Price said lowly, not wanting to give away what was happening underneath his desk. He glanced down at you, making sure you were okay with this.
"John, we need to talk about your behavior on the last missi-" Laswell cut herself off, raising her eyebrow slightly. "Are you alright?"
Price snapped his head up at Laswell, not expecting her to be the one knocking on his office door. You almost choked on Price's cock when you heard your aunt's voice, trying to pull off of him. Price didn't let that slide, he kept your head in place and roughly pulled your hair to make you keep bobbing your head.
"I'm fine, Kate. Coming down with something. What did you want to talk about?" His voice was strained, but damn he was such a good liar.
Laswell sighed, sitting down across from Price's desk. Luckily, she couldn't see you, underneath and sucking his cock like it was your last meal on earth. "Your behavior. You need to follow orders for once in your life."
Laswell went on, basically reprimanding Price for never listening to orders and doing what he wanted instead. Though, Price was hardly listening. He was fighting for his life, trying not to cum while Laswell was in his office. He felt his balls tightening, especially with how you played with them and took his cock as deep as you could into your throat.
"Fine. I'll listen. I have work to do, are we done?" Price asked, his voice sounding rushed. He was desperate to get her out. Laswell nodded, wrapping the conversation up before she left. The moment Laswell closed the door, Price let out a loud groan and spilled his hot seed into your throat. He couldn't hold it back any longer. You swallowed as much as you could before he pulled you off his cock and up from the floor.
"Lay on my desk." He pushed his paperwork aside, most of it falling onto the floor yet he had no care in the world. You obliged, hopping up onto his desk and laying back. You couldn't deny you were excited, your pussy was practically dripping. Watching Price try not to cum from you sucking him off had you needy more than ever.
Price wasted no time, leaning over and swiping his tongue through your folds. Your hips buckled, needing more friction than he was giving you. He pulled back, sucking a dark mark onto your thigh. Mostly so no other man could get between your pretty little legs, sucking your pussy that belonged to him.
"John, please." You whined, grinding your hips against his nose to feel something. Price growled, not wanting to keep his precious baby waiting any longer. His tongue swirled around your clit before he sucked on it, his teeth grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, your hands falling to his short brown hair.
You hummed, your eyes fluttered shut from pleasure. "Just like that, John.. keep going."
Price sucked on your clit, rubbing his tongue in tight circles before dipping into your entrance. His nose rubbed your clit while he fucked your pussy with his tongue. You couldn't help the moans that left your mouth, he was like a man starved as he ate you out. His tongue returned back to your clit, his thick finger pushing it's way into your entrance. It easily went in, your pussy was dripping with your juices.
"Fuck, so wet for me. Naughty little thing." Price muttered against your pussy, sending vibrations through your core. You moaned, your hips grinding against his finger. He added another, thrusting them in and out of your dripping cunt. His name fell from your mouth, singing it like a damn lullaby. Price added a third finger, curling them to hit your g-spot.
"Oh, God! I'm going to come!" You warned, to which Price only sped up his movements. His fingers worked faster and deeper, while his tongue sucked and nipped at your clit. You gripped the edge of the desk, his name coming off your tongue in a chant as you came undone, your walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers. He let you ride out your high before he removed his fingers, standing up from his chair.
"Open your mouth." He demanded, pressing his fingers to your lips. You hardly had time to register his words, but you opened your mouth. He pushed his fingers passed your lips, your tongue swirling around his fingers. While you were busy tasting yourself, Price used his free hand to line his cock up with your entrance.
You gasped against his fingers as you felt his cock fill you up, though it quickly turned into a moan. As Price got his pace, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips. You kissed him back, though it seemed more passionate than usual. It was soft, almost gentle. It always was, but something just felt different this time.
Your thoughts were broken as Price moved his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point. His free hand slipped underneath your shirt, twisting your nipple between his fingers. You yelped, only making Price chuckle against your neck. The pleasure from his cock, his lips against your neck, and the feeling of him playing with your nipples was almost enough to send you over the edge. Again. But Price slowed down, wanting to keep you on edge. He kept going fast then slow again, making you whine over and over again. You couldn't take it, it was like torture.
"No, please. Please don't slow down! John, please." You whined, grinding your hips against him. Price smirked, placing soft kisses along your collarbone. He couldn't help himself, he just loved hearing those whines from you. But, he also wanted to cum inside of your tight heat like always, so he finally gave in.
He lifted his head up, gripping your hips and pulling you deeper onto his cock. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him in place so he couldn't move from his spot. You covered your mouth with your hand as he pounded his cock inside of you at a fast pace, hitting every right place inside of you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt your legs shaking slightly, feeling your release wash over you. Price groaned in pleasure as he felt your walls fluttering around him, milking him of everything he was worth.
You felt his cock softening inside of you after his cum was deep inside of you, then he slowly pulled out. He grabbed a few tissues, cleaning up your thighs and carefully pressing your sensitive clit. Price always admired the way you looked after he fucked you, your cheeks flushed and your pussy swollen, dripping with his cum. God, he could stare at you forever and never get tired of it.
The mission had been months now, it was taking longer than usual and Laswell was never the patient one. She'd rather be at home with her wife rather than being on a base with smelly men. You, however, enjoyed the time being on base. Every time Laswell left, you were with Price all day until he had to leave. You couldn't even count the amount of times you two have fucked by now, but you did know one thing for sure; you were falling in love with him. You didn't know how it happened, you found yourself wanting to be with him 24/7, never leaving his side. You hated it, yet also loved it.
You thought about distancing yourself so that you wouldn't get hurt in the future, it's not like you could hide it from Laswell forever. You were already getting sloppy, she noticed the hickeys on your collarbone that you tried covering up. Or the way you held your breath when she talked about Price. She hoped you kept your promise, but then again, she knew you like the back of her hand. You were trouble, and even though she loved you, that was just the truth. But in the end, you couldn't distance yourself from Price. You were already too attached.
Price had invited you over again, knowing Laswell was in a meeting with the General and some other higher ups about their mission. You didn't immediately have sex, you haven't for the past few weeks you often watched a movie or ate dinner together in his quarters. Part of you believed he had feelings too, what man invites a woman over for a movie when they were supposed to be just fuck buddies?
Price picked up the plates, putting them into the sink while you got comfortable on the couch. You laid down, bringing your legs up onto the couch. When Price came back, he simply smiled and lifted your legs to sit down, then you placed your legs on his lap. He rubbed your feet, paying attention back to the movie. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, something you've gotten used to with him. But, all good things come to an end, don't they?
You sat up from the couch, taking a seat on Price's lap. He chuckled softly, reaching for your hips and pulling you closer to his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his. You loved kissing him, his soft lips against yours.. he tugged on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Oh, how much you enjoyed that. You couldn't get enough of him, and Price couldn't get enough of you.
While you made out with him, you ground your hips against his thigh, feeling slight friction between your clothes. It was faint, but it was enough to keep you going. You eventually pulled back as he unbuttoned your blouse, then you attached your lips to his neck, sucking on his pulse point. He grunted, lifting his hips slightly. But just as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders, there was a knock on his door.
Price sighed in annoyance, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he lifted you off his lap and got up from the couch. When he answered the door, he quickly closed it to only where the person on the other side of the door could see a glimpse of his quarters. You took the advantage to use the bathroom while Price was busy. When Price noticed you were gone, he looked back at the person.
"What can I do for ya, Kate?"
Laswell wasn't a fool, she noticed the hickey the moment he opened the door. And she was going to find out one way or another. She pushed past the door, forcing an eye-roll from Price. "I told you I needed those reports an hour ago. Where are they?"
Price closed the door behind her, leaning against it as he crossed his arms. "Never a dull moment with ya, huh?" He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "I left them in my office, I forgot about them. But they're done."
Laswell looked around the room, just in time for the bathroom door to open. You, standing in the doorway, made Laswell furious. She knew it, she just needed proof before she accused you of anything. Her gaze hardened, her arms crossing over her chest. Your eyes widened, looking between your aunt and Price.
"Aunt Kate.. it's not what it looks like!" You stammered over your words, not wanting her to hate you for what you did. She raised you, and here you were, betraying her.
"Save it. I'm not an idiot. You lied to me, I don't like when you lie to me. You promised me, does that mean nothing to you?" Her voice was cold, almost detached. This was the first time you heard her this angry, but not for Price. Price knew she was holding back, and he gave you a sympathetic look.
"It-it does! I.. it just sort of happened! It's not an excuse, I know! But-" You couldn't help how pathetic you sounded, you just needed your aunt to believe you. But she didn't.
Laswell cut you off with her hand, immediately shutting you up. "Bullshit. You made a promise and you broke it." She didn't say anything else, she simply turned and left, leaving you alone with Price. You expected him to kick you out, not wanting to deal with Laswell's wrath. Especially because they were best friends. Instead, he pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead while whispering reassuring words in your ear.
Weeks had passed and Laswell still wasn't speaking to you. She didn't make you leave, she didn't tell her wife what happened. She just simply.. ignored you. It hurt your feelings, but you knew you brought this onto yourself. And that's when you noticed Price was asking you to come over less, he hardly spoke to you either. Now you just felt alone, you didn't know what to do. You told yourself it would be fine, Laswell would come around. But when Price stopped talking to you? It wasn't easy anymore.
You didn't understand what you did, you thought he'd stay when your aunt found out. He told you he would, but he broke his promise. Just like you broke yours to your aunt. You've been trying to keep yourself together and not cry, but it was difficult. It wasn't about losing sex, that didn't matter to you. It was about losing two people who you loved. You couldn't take it anymore, breaking down into tears as you headed to the office your aunt used on base. It was quiet, the lights were off and she wasn't answering your calls or texts. You sat down, crying in your hands.
And soon enough, you heard footsteps in front of you. But it wasn't your aunt, no. It was Price. He kneeled in front of you, letting out a quiet sigh. He hadn't even thought about how this was affecting you. He lifted your head by your chin, wiping your tears with his thumbs. You didn't know what to say to him, he had ignored you like your aunt.
"I'm sorry," he started, not knowing what to say. He wasn't good with feelings, he wasn't a good man. How could he be with someone like you? A sweet person who has done no harm to the world. Regardless, he tried his best. "You deserve a man who's not gone all the time, who doesn't risk his life for his country. A man who will make it back, not one who might not make it home." He spoke softer than usual, it was so different.
You sniffled, trying to keep yourself together and not cry more. But you wanted to cry again, especially now that he's basically ending it. It always starts with 'you deserve better', rather than asking what you want. "That's not your choice to make! I want to be with you, why won't you let me? I thought you cared about me, that we had something together." Your words came out rushed, speaking between sniffles.
Price tilted his head, a small frown on his face. Of course he cared about you, he loved you. But how could he give you something he knew he couldn't? The look in your eyes, your sad face was driving him crazy. He wanted to make you happy, not sad. He knew he'd give in, he always does. "We did have something together. We still do, if you'll let me."
Your eyes lit up at his words and you got onto your knees to be level with him. You nodded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Price was caught of guard, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he pulled you into a hug. How could he not make his girl happy? He would do his best for you, to prove he loved you. Because that's what you deserved.
You heard your name, making you freeze. You quickly pulled back from Price, scrambling to your feet and you wiped your remaining tears away. "Aunt Kate." You hoped you didn't sound too desperate to talk to her, but you couldn't help it. You missed your aunt, you would apologize over and over again if that's what she wanted.
Laswell's eyes softened slightly as she saw the state you were in, knowing it was her fault. She loved you, of course, but you frustrated her. And you needed to learn a lesson about lying, but you wouldn't get it unless she proved her point. By ignoring you until you got like.. well, this. Maybe it wasn't the best way to handle it, but she was CIA. Hardcore was her thing.
Laswell looked between you and Price, who was now standing up from the floor. She wanted to see how this went, if you'd still lie to her face or at least be honest. Sure, she still would've been mad but less upset if you didn't lie. "What's going on between you and John? You need to be honest with me."
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew how your aunt was, but you hoped she'd come around eventually. She raised you until you went off to school, she was there more than your own parents. "Me and John.. we-we're um.. dating? I think?" You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, looking at Price. Not even you were sure what was going on between you two.
Laswell followed your gaze, also looking at Price. He simply nodded at your question, looking back at Laswell. She let out a sigh, grabbing the keys to open her office. You and Price, confused, followed her into her office. You shut the door behind you, Laswell had already gotten behind her desk. She didn't sit, just rested her palms on the top of her desk.
"I can't stop you two from being together. I don't like it, but I can't stop you." She spoke through gritted teeth, like she was trying to hold back her anger. You weren't surprised by this, you knew she didn't approve of it. You nodded slowly, keeping your emotions in check.
"However, there will be rules," Laswell looked up at you and Price, looking between the two. You furrowed your eyebrows at her words, and Price did too. Though, his was more in amusement than confusion. "There will be no PDA. Not even when I'm not on this base. If it gets back to me, I will not be happy. You will continue to stay with me until I leave, no complaints. And no more hickeys. That's for teenagers."
You both listened to her words, a smile eventually coming to your lips. If she was making you stay with her until she left, that meant she wasn't going to ignore you anymore. Once she finished talking, you nodded at her words and quickly made your way to her to hug her. "I'm sorry I lied, aunt Kate. I didnt want you to hate me. Do you forgive me?"
Laswell let out a quiet sigh, wrapping her arms around you. She couldn't stay mad at you forever, even though you lied straight to her face and broke a promise to her. She didn't take that lightly. "I will eventually. For now, I need time to get over it." She pressed a kiss to her temple before pulling back, gently squeezing your arms. You would give her the time she needed because in the end, you knew she'd come around. She always did, she loved you too much not to. She soon told you she had work to do, or probably an excuse to get some time alone.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, you and Price stepped out of the office, fingers intertwined, the warmth of his hand wrapping around yours like a promise. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each more tangled than the last. Price, with his unwavering discipline as a military captain, carried the weight of his responsibilities, while you grappled with the delicate situation of his connection to your aunt—a friendship that added layers of complexity to your budding relationship. Yet, in that moment, the world around you faded away. The mutual love binding you two felt palpable, a fierce determination radiating from both of you. It was clear: no challenge was too great, no obstacle too daunting, as you were ready to fight for one another, proving your love in ways none could deny.
#john price#captain john price#john price x reader#john price x you#call of duty#cod mw2#idk how to tag this#what the fuck#smut#straight smut#forbidden love#idk man#i was bored
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Is Ignatius Prewett Molly's father or uncle?
Now, this seems to have an obvious answer, since Sirius says this:
“The pure-blood families are all interrelated,” said Sirius. “If you’re only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur’s something like my second cousin once removed. But there’s no point looking for them on here — if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it’s the Weasleys.”
(OotP)
And in the family tree, we indeed see Ignatius Prewett married Lucretia Black (Sirius' aunt):
Them being "cousins by marriage" means Ignatius is Molly's uncle and the brother of Molly's father. Great, case closed.
Except "Ignatius" is Percy’s middle name:
“Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley — ”
(OotP)
(I love that the contradictory information appears in the same book... *grinding my teeth*)
If we look at naming patterns in the wizarding world, you'd first name a child after their parents, then grandparents, then aunts and uncles (the parents' siblings), and only then other relatives (such as a child's great uncle/aunt).
We know Bill is William Arthur Weasley, sharing a name with his father.
We don't know Charlie's middle name, but I always headcanoned it to be "Septimus" after Arthur’s father.
I headcanon Fred and George's middle names are Gideon and Fabian (Molly's dead brothers), as it makes sense with the naming conventions, and I think it's cute.
We know Ron is named after Arthur’s brother "Billius", which means that they didn't run out of brothers and grandparents yet by the time they reached Ron. It means Percy would more likely be named after Molly's father or brother than her uncle.
So, is Ignatius her dad or her uncle?
I kind of assume Ignatius is Molly's father and that JKR messed up with the Black family tree. Again. Or that Sirius remembers incorrectly if we're going for a Watsonian explanation.
I mean, it's very possible Sirius didn't bother to memorize his family tree and from the "something like" he uses when describing Arthur's relation to him, it seems he isn't 100% certain of all the familial connections. So he says "cousins by marriage" even though they're just cousins.
The other possibility and my new headcanon now, is that Ignatius is Molly's father. He had Molly with an unknown first wife and married Lucretia later. If Lucretia is his second wife and Molly had a different mother it would explain how Ignatius is her father but she's Sirius' cousin by marriage.
Now we don't know if Gideon and Fabian were older or younger than Molly. I always assumed they were older due to what is said about them by Moody:
Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes ...
(OotP)
But it's possible they are her younger brothers born of Ignatius and Lucretia after they married. (They could still be in their mid-20s or even late-20s when they die in 1979 as Molly was born in late 1949 or in 1950)
So, this is my new headcanon for Molly's family.
Ignatius and some other witch had Molly, Molly's unknown mother died and Ignatius married Lucretia and had Fabian and Gideon with her, making them Molly's half brothers, if we're being technical. This makes everything about the family tree make sense.
(I really need to draw a full Black family tree with all my headcanons one of these days... I just feel like there's still stuff I haven't unpacked here)
#harry potter#hp#hp meta#hollowedtheory#harry potter meta#harry potter headcanon#hp headcanon#hollowedheadcanon#molly weasley#fabian prewett#gideon prewett#ignatius prewett#prewett family#wizarding family trees#wizarding world
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you know Alastor, you could always ask your mom if she knows what happened to make you so frightened at the prospect of seeing a counselor. And before you protest, yes, you are frightened, and that's okay! If she knows why you don't want to let the kids go, it could give you some closure because it's clearly still bothering you, and you definitely don't need that stress on top of everything else
Alastor crosses his arms, his ears lowering slightly. Lucifer knows that look, it's gonna be a fight to get it out of him.
Alastor: “It's not that bad. And mama had enough worries with me as a child, I'm not about to bring those back”
Lucifer: “Al, I think she wouldn't mind”
Alastor: “That is not the point. She should be in heaven, not worrying at all, let alone fixing my problems.”
Lucifer: “It's not about fixing them, but maybe she knows -”
Alastor, growling: “It's one of a million things that happened when I was younger, I don't need to put that back in her mind-”
Lucifer: “But it's probably the only way to figure out what happened. Just ask her”
Alastor: “I'm not asking Mama -”
Theodora: “Ain't askin' me what?”
They both stiffen, but Alastor especially. He looks almost panicked. And then he puts on his showman smile.
Alastor: “Nothing important! Say-”
Theodora: “Darling, hold on a minute”
She frowns. And Alastor's smile stiffens more.
Theodora: “I know dat grin of yers. Dat ain’t it, chérie. Y’been flashin’ dat smile since I got here, but dis one? The fakest I've ever seen!”
He forces his smile to relax a bit, but it simply turns into a grimace. The soft ears lower even more.
Theodora: “Why don' ya stop?”
The question is a soft inquiry, not an accusation. Alastor swallows thickly. It's so hard to stop. His mother makes him sit, then gently cradles his head, no matter how stiff her son still is.
Theodora: “When I said I love dat sweet smile o’ yours, I didn't meant to slap it on ya every minute”
She says it slightly jokingly, but there is worry there. That she might have it as well stitched it onto there. Alastor relaxes a bit too much.
Alastor, mumbling: “I'm sorry”
Theodora: “Oh dearie, no worries now. Take it easy, one thing at a time, what's got ya all worked up?”
Alastor: “This isn't something you should have to worry over”
Theodora, chuckling: “Allie”
Her hands glide through his hair, even more practiced than Lucifer's soothing.
Theodora: “I’m gonna always worry 'bout you. Just like you gonna fret 'bout your kids too.”
Alastor: “You had a lot to worry about already”
Theodora: “An' you ain't? I ain't even been 'round a day, an' look at all dat you got on your plate. We just work together, like family do.”
The radio demon is deep in thought. Mama had always known how to get him to talk.
Alastor: “It is just something Lucifer has noticed”
He finally admits. And Lucifer is impressed by how the angel managed to open him up.
Lucifer: “Sometimes he just… he freezes up. That one time he accidentally brushed the plug, and there's been a tiny bit of electricity. And he didn't even remember freezing up for like 40 seconds”
Alastor: “I'm still sure you are exaggerating to make a point”
But Theodora is quiet, just brushing through the soft hair.
Alastor: “... Mama?”
Theodora, sadly: “I got no trouble believin' dat.”
It makes his mouth go dry and his hands sweaty.
Theodora: “You got in the habit of pullin' yo' hair. Ain't no surprise with that man 'round.”
She says it with a bit of bitterness, not unlike Alastor's own when speaking about him. He doesn't realise how tight his grip on the chair becomes.
Theodora: “Dem doctors swore high and low dat fancy new electric thing gonna make ya all better”
He closes his eyes tight, trying not to remember. Breathing is so hard- But there are blurry pictures in his mind, stingy rooms with strange smells. He can't breathe.
Theodora: “Maybe it coulda done somethin' if it really was de new tools”
That chair- he's not in it, he's not- He jumps up, heart pounding so loud he can hardly hear his thoughts.
Alastor, croaky: “Stop- stop,- I - I-”
She holds him. But the man can't find any calm in it. His mother's teary eyes-
Theodora: “I’m real sorry, my darling. It's what I regret the most..”
It was her that brought him there. He staggers back, away from her. Panic overriding any sensible thoughts. It hadn't been Cassius, it had been -
He doesn't want to-
No-
The angel let's him go without a fight, no matter how much her heart is breaking. They'd hardly gotten each other back, and already it feels like their bond is so close to breaking. Alastor continues to walk, eyes wild. He wants to breathe but can't.
Lucifer: “Al, deep breaths -”
The king tries to be calm. But there's a hint of worry that makes Alastor worse. He withdraws more, and Lucifer can see the shadowy tendrils slowly engulf his feet.
Lucifer: “Al- wait, you're not supposed to -”
But it swallows the demon, the want to get to safety overwriting everything.
It leaves Theodora and Lucifer alone.
#ask#send asks#ask blog#ask me anything#hazbin hotel ask blog#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer x alastor#lucifer#hazbin lucifer#radio demon#radioapple#alastor x lucifer#alastor's mom#alastor's mother
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Joan Jett
#tenor#gif#joan jett#crimson and clover#singer#artists ive seen in concert#singing#gna#jeb#song#music#lyrics#iwamy#joan jett and the blackhearts#now i don't hardly know her but i think i could love her#tw#flashing
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Posting this by itself because :) I just feel like he should have gotten to wear the mech pilot suit at least once..
(my AU black version and the og green)
#Legend of Korra#Baatar Jr.#LoK#WIP#[ since this is from something silly I wanted to post this bit because he is serving very cunty#even if you know he's talking about accidentally ingesting caustic chemicals lol#this was def self indulgent but also why couldn't he have worn the suit at least once sobs#we had one chance#I don't actually think he uses the mech suit hardly ever even though he has his own personal one#but on rare occasions he does and gets in this outfit and Kuvira are you okay? Are you good? Has anyone checked on her?#I feel like this outfit is what causes her to take a serious sanity hit LOL#she just drags him away by the hood and no one sees them again for like 4 hours#or she's just like “You know what I think he could use my help :)” and proceeds to be everything but helpful#idk how anything in this regime gets done I swear#the most Baatar ever used the mech suits was when they were first being built#idk dude I love a man in a working uniform sobs#I knew someone would recognize the mech pilot suit hehe that made me smile because yeah :)))#it felt good to draw Baatar again sobs I love him so much I've missed him#I do kinda wish this sketch was cleaner but I wanted to at least post it now in case I never did lol#I should to a proper illust of him in the pilot suit one day just for the pure self indulgence of it all#give myself a lill treat you know? ]#Neon Ocean Art
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Love To Dream
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9331c5ab199c08844ac8afa08e61c6f0/76d71a6e3a799a56-78/s540x810/71a56e0f569f5de2ba25872e4a8849b4bc397a34.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7a82828fb5439031ffebb36e428ef040/76d71a6e3a799a56-a3/s540x810/173e5f9f79c6528846caeb8a5499eeb512698eed.jpg)
summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.
pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning
a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)
Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.
However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.
Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.
“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.
You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.
“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.
You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.
Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.
“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.
“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -
Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.
That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.
You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.
After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”
“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.
He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.
“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.
“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.
"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."
Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."
Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.
Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had actually better chances with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#x you#squid game#fanfiction#squid game season 2#thanos squid game#squid game s2#squid game thanos#squid game x reader#thanos x reader#thanos#squid game fanfic#cho su bong#choi su bong x reader#cho su-bong#choi seunghyun#t.o.p#bigbang#thanos ff#squid game x you#squid game x y/n#player 230
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa.
WC: 1.8k
Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)
Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present.
This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer.
What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true.
You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present.
You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas.
While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game.
“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked.
He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully.
“Are you at least winning?”
He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.”
That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift.
Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work.
Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts.
“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ.
JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief.
“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her.
JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition.
He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you.
“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box.
Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely.
You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out.
“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile.
Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?
You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.
“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.
When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face.
Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold.
“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.
Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots.
“Did you paint this?” He asked.
You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.”
A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia.
“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.”
The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless.
“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face.
“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick.
The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan.
The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you.
You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved.
Not that he had to know you loved him.
He didn’t know that. Right?
As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin.
You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky.
“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind.
You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.
“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained.
“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.”
He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?”
You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”
“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”
His eyes widened. “Oh um-“
He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.
“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”
You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“
“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured.
“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift.
“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”
”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.
The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.
”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?”
While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles.
“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”
“But, that was three months ago.”
He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”
Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief.
“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.”
You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.”
His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.
He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.”
Your heart damn near stopped.
“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness.
“I’d love to,” you beamed.
His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?”
You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”
“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.”
God he was cute.
“That sounds great.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic
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puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1
max verstappen x vet!yn
fc: girls from pinterest
summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?
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vetyn
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liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others
vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗
210 comments
ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐
vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄
ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!
albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?
vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾
albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭
rumorhasitf1
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liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others
rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨
Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?
531 comments
maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect
30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭
rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!
dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!
vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒
verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ
maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU
frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx
jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...
maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...
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vetyn’s story
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translation: “new client”
twitter
vetyn
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liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others
vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)
it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘
245 comments
lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)
vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)
alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.
char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭
ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝
liked by vetyn
alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️🔥
vetyn: merci belle 🥰
albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓
liked by vetyn
ynfriend: so proud!
roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN
vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!
russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????
ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets
ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸
liked by vetyn
rumorhasitf1
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3d96265bad1b6132a206803002ddf6b0/18ec1698635f0d5a-5b/s540x810/25623dc4d803a368e6131c98acdde193fc060e91.jpg)
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liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others
rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀
1,034 comments
rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE
maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO
maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????
butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king
maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era
hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing
hamstappen: just kidding hehe
rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP
vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak
30three: and Max is sleeping soundly
sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS
maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....
justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too
username: wait who
maxielno1: his ex
maxverstappen1
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/deb0e6ddd848c08332d84e5b3dad9efe/18ec1698635f0d5a-78/s540x810/3703e2fc8d452b4dc69a8177e0ef91ba3d5d3cff.jpg)
liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others
maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?
23,672 comments
redbullracing: 🦁
rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun
maxisfast: 😭
maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰
f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌
vetyn: mega! 💙💙
maxverstappen1: 😘💙
albono33: YN?
rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....
30three: so proud of you! 🧡
verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!
vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉
martingarrix: Mate how was the club?
maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂
f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥
somedutchguy: LEGEND
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vetyn's story
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to be continued..
⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩
a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1 smau#f1 fiction#f1 2024#f1 fic#red bull racing#red bull f1#max emilian verstappen#f1 x you#f1 fandom#formulaamar#formula 1 smau#formula one imagine#charles16#forza ferrari#red bull team#red bull formula 1#charles lecrelc#x yn
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crimson & clover
“now i don't hardly know her, but i think i could love her"
===+++===
pairing: wednesday addams x mute!reader
summary: people fear that which they do not understand. it makes sense then, why you and wednesday fall in love and help each other
warnings: erm you killed a lot of people on accident, angsty in the middle there, threats of violence, descriptions of violence
word count: 5.1k
A/N: heavily inspired by black bolt, who i really do think is one of my favourite heroes. there will likely be a part 2 or 3 to this but for rn my attention is on kiss with a fist. THERE WILL ALSO BE A PART [IV] OF SOMETHIN' STUPID
KISS WITH A FIST [IV] WILL BE UP NEXT SUNDAY
===+++===
===+++===
There were certain things you couldn’t have, when one had the ability to do incredible damage, if they just opened their mouth.
When you did so, on a random Saturday morning at 10 years old, and your house burst apart, it took your parents and a chunk of the neighbourhood with it in a fiery tempest that stabbed you right through the heart. You learned then, that maybe you weren't meant to have a family.
At age 12, when the kids at the Home for Outcast Children strung you up from the monkey bars by your ankles, and you couldn’t hold in a laugh from how the world looked funny when the sky looked like the floor, you learned you weren’t meant to have friends, sitting silently in the dirty crater where the playground used to be with your head tucked into your knees.
You had thought it would be implied then, that you would never have a lover, either. But then again, there was Wednesday Addams.
It was still a mystery, why she chose you. You had assumed she would want nothing to do with you just like she didn’t want anything to do with most people, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.
The both of you met about a week after she arrived at Nevermore, in the dead of night on one of the walks you always took when everyone else had gone to bed and there was no one to watch you, no one to murmur as you went past. You didn't pose a danger to anyone, then, and it was liberating and also deeply melancholic.
That was when you were most at peace. Your thoughts, even though well-reasoned, could not be expressed. You wrote often, in a leather-bound notebook you’d let no one see, but the power was given to writing through reading it, and there was no one you could have close enough to do so. It made you tired, to be around people you couldn’t communicate with. Few people wanted to wait for you to write something out on a notebook and even fewer wanted to learn sign language.
Kinbott had a dry-erase whiteboard in her office that was just meant for you and the only deaf person in Jericho, though the old man had gone missing a few months ago, without a trace. It was humiliating, at first, and you used to write two-word sentences, curt responses doing the bare minimum, often out of anger— whether it was anger from your situation or anger at being a teenager, you didn’t know— but now you could fill it with paragraphs and kept a notebook for when communication was especially necessary.
That night itself was peaceful, with gentle, twinkling stars that were only lightly polluted by the quad’s towering lamps. You could still see their faint outlines above you, with casting shadows down the lawn from the roof’s spires, and it smelled as if it were going to rain soon.
When you heard the scuttling of something on the floor, you jumped, startled, eyes shooting down to where you were certain you had felt someone’s fingers grip at your leg. Your eyes widened in surprise at the disembodied hand, racing up the uneven cobblestones and then up the leg of someone at the far end of the quad, landing finally on her shoulder.
Wednesday with her arms crossed, looking at you with a comically large bag slung over her shoulder that must've contained all of her belongings, like a runaway in the night.
Oh. That's what she was.
You blankly stared back at her, blinking at her figure. She took a menacing step forward, her grip on the bag tightening. "Are you following me?" she asked, tone icy. When you kept looking at her without so much as opening your mouth, her apathetic eyes narrowed. "If you tell anyone you saw me, they will never find your body. Don't say a word."
It was intended to be a threat, and if it had been anyone else, it probably would've made their blood run ice over just from how cold her gaze was. But you just raised your eyebrows at her, unable to stop the amusement from tugging at the corners of your lips. The irony was very far from lost on you, and the more serious she seemed the more funny the blunder was.
"What?" she snipped. "Is something amusing to you?"
Again, you could not say. You silently shook your head, tilting it then out of curiosity, and gently pointing towards the hand on her shoulder. It sat up at your attention, sending a friendly wave in your direction. Your eyes widened, waving before Wednesday could clear her throat and pull your eyes back up to hers.
Her eyes in question were dark and intense, but beautiful, even under the dim lighting, and you had to swallow what felt like a lump in your throat, in order to regain your composure. "Why are you silent?" she asked, narrowing them at you. You were under her microscope, and she scanned you, looking for anything that would impair your immediate voice.
You raised up a hand as if to say ‘hold on,’ before tugging your notebook out from your overcoat, flipping it open and pulling out your pen. With a click, you were scribbling down on the paper, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes at you again, scanning you in suspicion.
When you were done, you flipped it around, holding it up to her eyes with a gentle smile. 'Trust me, I don't think you'll need to worry about me telling anyone anything, anytime soon.'
Her eyes combed over the words, then glanced back down to you. "Why is—" she opened her mouth out of curiosity, but a heavy door slammed shut down the hall, and she whipped around before she could finish the question.
You both could hear the footsteps coming closer, and Wednesday straightened up, grip tightening on the bag over her shoulder. "You didn't see me, and you won't ever again," she said, coldly.
You nodded, not that you believed she'd make it out. You yourself had tried to run away for the first month and a half, and after long enough, one just gave up. Nevermore was hard to escape; you doubted she had readied a good enough plan in just a few days of being there. Still, you wished her luck. The forest was dangerous, and especially now.
With a final nod in your direction, she hastily walked off, down the corridor the opposite way. You watched her go, calmly sitting near the fountain. A few moments after she disappeared down a different hallway, a very tired looking Weems came down the stairs in her nightgown, holding onto a rusted lantern.
When she saw you, she sighed. "What did I say about those nighttime walks of yours, (Y/n)?"
You smiled, tilting your head to the side and shrugging at her. Weems huffed at your attempt at cluelessness, shaking her head fondly. "Just make sure you get yourself to bed soon, alright?"
You nodded, leaning back on the fountain edge and tracing the grout lines with your thumbs. Weems turned back to the hallway Wednesday went down. "I guess Miss Addams is planning to escape tonight?" But you didn't write anything down, raising your eyebrows at her as if to say 'duh.' Weems adjusted the hem of her nightgown from where it had dragged gently on the steps. "Thank you, (Y/n). I'll see you tomorrow."
She began to follow down the path Wednesday had taken, letting the lantern lead her through the dim corridor, and you silently yawned, picking up your notebook and figuring you had enough adventure for the night.
===+++===
That was your first unofficial meeting, at least. You almost forgot it had happened the following morning, except for when Wednesday showed up in class the next day looking more displeased and unhappy to be there than normal.
It was amusing how frustrated she was, mouth drawn into an annoyed line and eyes looking especially dark. When she caught your eye as she went to take her seat, you averted your gaze back down to your notebook to hide your cheeky smile, resuming your doodle in the margin and running a nervous hand through your hair.
She kept staring throughout the lecture, as if silently daring you to mention her failure, not that you could aloud. You weren’t willing to look back, but you could see her dark eyes shift up and across the round of tables towards you from the corner of your eye, which you made sure to keep on Thornhill.
After long enough, Xavier noticed too. He whispered something to her and then glanced up at you with a look that was far from friendly. He hadn't liked you one bit, but neither did any of the other kids, when they found out. You couldn't exactly blame them, either. The school was full of monsters, but you were a monster among monsters.
"Wednesday, Xavier," Thornhill called out, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry, though. More playful. "Is something more important than our study of carnivorous plants?"
Xavier began to shake his head, starting an apology, but Wednesday cut him off, blankly staring back at Thornhill as it left her mouth. "Yes."
At the challenge, the whole class seemed to let out a comically loud gasp. Thornhill's previously teasing smile dropped to a displeased frown, and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls, motioning to the large glass enclosure on the table behind her. "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is, then?" At the question, you can see Bianca smirk and raise her own hand, eager to steal it away, "I haven't said the name out loud yet, and it will be on your test next—"
"—Dendrophylax lindenii." The interruption came swift from her lips, but Wednesday's eyes are still steeled over and unimpressed by Thornhill's attempt to be put on the spot.
You have to hide your amusement again, at the shocked look on Bianca's face, but she rushes to make up for it by adding something of her own. "It's also known as the Ghost Orchid—”
"—First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1852," Wednesday adds, and once more she's won. Or, she would have. You can't help the shake your head does, or the cheeky smile on your face that Wednesday locks onto, like a heatseeking missile. Her eyes are like daggers, stabbing you through and through. "Is something funny?"
She says it across the entire classroom and everyone goes silent, less focused on the plants now and more the fact that she's acknowledging your presence. You shrug, trying to diffuse the situation, but it only makes her glare at you harder. "No, go on," Wednesday demands, her tone just as icy as she had been the night before. "Tell us, what was so funny?"
"Wednesday," Thornhill warns her, sending you a sympathetic look, but she ignores her and so do you.
"Or are you still at a loss for words," she draws out, and in doing so, the rest of the class fills with 'ooh's and 'woah's. You stare at her for a moment, then silently, your hand goes to your notebook.
The moment you begin writing in it, the classroom tenses again, waiting for you to finish. You make them as big as possible, large enough that she'll be able to clearly read them across the room. When you're done, you flip it around and hold it up like a sign, face blank.
discovered 1854, not 1852
idiot.
You've circled it several times in messy pen, to make sure she really sees. The room roars even louder in surprise, and however bad Wednesday's stare was before, the new one she gives you is infinitely worse. Her face is still deadpan, but her eyes flick away down to her notebook. It’s the only time you’ve seen her approach something resembling embarrassment or fury. You're sure the 'idiot' bit didn't help, but you were far too annoyed by her poking of you to not have poked her right back.
"Well...," Thornhill tries, "It seems the Ghost Orchid isn't the only carnivorous plant in here, today." But the class is too far gone to focus up again, sending you wary glances. They don't like Wednesday, but they like you even less, so it's confusing who they should root for.
You hold her gaze until the bell rings, finally breaking it to gather your things and leave as soon as possible. Her eyes are still on you as you go, and just before you exit the room, you can hear someone mutter "freak," under their breath. You tuck your books under your arm, and duck out into the hall.
===+++===
Fall was always your favourite time of year; for once, Jericho wasn't entirely unbearable. The leaves turned a warm orange and red, falling from the trees in abundant piles on the ground, and the air fermented into something crisp and especially breathable. You let it fill your nose as much as possible.
You sat on the lawn, listening to the birds flit about and the wind brush under the branches and hem of your jumper with a book in your lap and a frown on your face. It wasn't a good book- something the internet had said was incredible but had firmly left a bad taste in your mouth, and part of you wanted to put it down and turn to something more useful. But another part of you wanted to keep reading, like being unable to look away from a car accident.
The book was so engrossing in its awfulness that you didn't notice her watching you from afar or, more so, aiming in your direction. That was, until you turned the page, and her throwing knife whizzed past your ear and lodged itself into the tree you had been sitting against.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the noise, and you turned your head to the side, looking at the shiny, reflective silver. The letters W. A. stared back at you, engraved just below the knife's spine. You frowned, and when you looked back, she was standing over you, arms crossed and expression as deadpan as always.
You raised a questioning eyebrow, looking over at the knife and then back to her as if saying, 'What was that for?'
"Your attention was required," she replied dryly.
You rolled your eyes, dog-eared the page of your book, and placed it down next to you, pulling out your notebook and your pen. You wrote a single word.
dangerous.
"Believe me, if I wanted to hit you, I am entirely capable of aiming to kill," Wednesday said. Then, after a brief look around Nevermore's green, her eyes flicked back down to you. "I'm here on business."
You search her face for a moment, narrowing your eyes. They locked in on the small bandage on her forehead, and you nodded up at it, asking her what happened with the look on your face. Her frown deepened.
"I'm in the process of crushing a bee... and almost getting crushed by a gargoyle." You blinked, but Wednesday continued. "But I won't have to do either if you agree to my request."
It's hard to deny that her words massively pique your interest. Wednesday in general massively piques your interest, and you write down the thing you really want to know.
people say you eat human flesh...
You turn the page back to her, and Wednesday seems to process the words for a moment. She looks over at you, unimpressed by the allegation. "I don't eat it. My menagerie of pets do. And even then, that's nothing close to what Enid's said about you."
You stare up at her, then scribble a couple of words on the paper.
and what's that?
"That you're dangerous. That you’re somehow infinitely worse than I am, which I'm doubtful of," Wednesday says without missing a beat. "Enid won't say anything more, and neither will Xavier." She looks around again, over the green. There's a picnic of sirens by the lake, and a few of the werewolves are playing with a frisbee. She looks back at you. "I've been warned to stay away, and your propensity for being obnoxious has made that task fairly easy so far." You begin to write again.
so why are you here
"Because," she states like it's obvious, "I want to break out of here. And you're somehow the person to have gotten the closest."
and yet
i'm still here
You turn the page to her and jab the bottom bit several times with your pointer finger.
"Well then," she says, "help me succeed."
===+++===
“And how do you think that made you feel?” Kinbott asks, eyeing her various pages of notes to the left of you. Some of the other patients in Kinbott’s care had small, yellow folders, but you had a larger red one, with your name in highlighted block letters on the front. It looked like it should’ve had a top secret sticker in the corner, not that you weren’t appreciative about your records being sealed.
You erased the board, writing a single word.
seen
Then, underneath it.
idk, like i was really there?
Kinbott nodded. “You’ve said people often ignore you a lot. Why do you think that is?”
they’re scared. they think i’ll hurt them because they heard rumours about what i did.
i can’t blame them, really
She frowned, wrapping her hands around her knee. “But that’s not really fair, is it? When was the last time you’ve caused damage with your ability, (Y/n)?”
You shrug, thinking for a moment.
about four years
“And you haven’t made any sort of mistakes, right?”
well, no
“Then why should they be afraid of you?” Kinbott asks. She’s leaning forward, looking at you with her eyes softened. “You’ve trained yourself to silently yawn, you don’t cough, you don’t sneeze, you don’t snore. I think you need to trust yourself a little more, (Y/n).”
You shrug again, but don’t write anything down, so Kinbott sighs and sits back in her chair. “Principal Weems says that she has another little Harry Houdini on her hands?”
You write down Wednesday on your board. She nods. “I’m seeing her in a little while, actually.” It makes your eyebrows raise in surprise.
why?
Kinbott shakes her head. “You know I can’t share that. Therapy is private. It seems she doesn’t plan on staying, though. Wednesday has already tried to escape.”
i know.
she asked me to help her
Her eyes scan over the words and then look back up to you, warily. “You know better than to help her, right? Nevermore could be good for Wednesday. And I thought you were actually starting to like it here.”
You nod.
i already said no
it’s too dangerous, in the woods right now. with the attacks and stuff.
“Good. And please, tell Principal Weems if you learn of any plans in the future.” You nod again, much less committed, and Kinbott looks down at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is over, (Y/n),” she says with a smile. “I’ll see you next week.”
You write a quick thank you down and stand, shoving your socks back into your shoes and tugging on your jumper, tucking it underneath the collar of your shirt and fixing your Nevermore tie. Purple stripes was never your pattern, and Weems had long since given up on trying to make you wear the coat. She figured it probably made you less likely to run away.
Wednesday is sitting in the lobby when you get down the stairs, with a bored-looking Weems come to babysit. You send her a glance, and then give Weems a nod of your head in acknowledgment.
She beams back at you. “Ah, (Y/n). We’re here for Miss Addams’ session. If you want to wander around Jericho, we can take you back to the school when we're done, if you’d like.”
You send another look at Wednesday, whose face is just as deadpan and unhappy as before, and shake your head. You point at yourself and then mime walking with your two fingers. Principal Weems frowns, but gives you and okay, and you turn around to leave.
You can feel Wednesday’s eyes on you as you head for the school. You know she's annoyed by your refusal to help her, but you can't exactly tell her why you're refusing either, especially since you're lacking any evidence for your theory. So you just told her no.
===+++===
Even from deep inside the forest, you can hear the carnival. There's a Ferris wheel towering over the trees in front of you, and circus music blasts from a few speakers so that you can faintly hear it amongst the windy branches, leaves blowing along the ground and caressing your shoes from time to time as you walk through the dark.
You're looking for something, anything, indicating someone would've been there. Sheriff Galpin had found all sorts of hikers, recently, all almost unidentifiable, with how bloodied they were, but they had yet to find anyone with a hearing aid, so you were unsatisfied. It was believed he was on vacation, but you knew the old man went to his therapy appointments every single week. He hadn't missed a single day, so you failed to believe that theory. You didn't even know his name, really.
On a tree not too far from you, there was a claw mark sunk deep into the bark, and you looked towards it, at the pattern. The idea a bear was responsible for all the deaths wasn't exactly convincing, and looking at the claws, your doubts only amplified. You pulled out your camera, aiming it towards the mark, ready to snap a shot, when you heard footsteps pounding past you.
"Rowan!" called a voice behind you, and you froze, putting the camera down and flicking your flashlight off. The last thing you needed was word getting out that you were lurking in the woods. People thought you were scary enough.
But the words weren't directed at you. You listened intently, and then you heard the faint but panicked voice again. "Rowan," Wednesday says again, and the moment you realise it's her voice, you take off running towards it.
You find Rowan with his hand held up, crushing Wednesday against a tree, and before you can stop to think, you're rushing forward, shoving him in the back and pushing him into the dirt, where he struggles to catch his breath. The moment his hand splays out in front of him, Wednesday is dropped to the forest floor. You run to her, checking her over quickly for injuries, making sure she can run. When you find none, you grab her arm, hoisting her to her feet. You send a wary look over at Rowan, who's already trying to right himself and take Wednesday's hand in yours, pulling her deeper into the forest.
It isn't long before you hear him calling out. "Wednesday!" he yells, and you freeze, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her behind a tree. You push her flush against the bark and cover her mouth with your hand, getting as close as possible so that you hide better against the trunk. She seems too scared to comment on the touch, eyes wide and chest heaving from the running. You raise your other hand and press your finger to your lips.
"Wednesday, I'm doing Nevermore a favour," he tries again. "One massive favour. You're dangerous. My mother's seen it. I can see it. Anyone who knows you can see it."
Your eyes flicker to Wednesday's in confusion, processing his words. She's staring up at you, eyes dark and full of worry, begging for him not to find you. Any idea you had about her not getting scared goes out the window. She's just as human as you are. You send her a comforting nod, peeking around the tree trunk. Rowan's a few trees away, with his back turned, scouring the area.
You begin to back away from Wednesday, gesturing over your shoulder. If you both can sneak off and go back to the carnival without Rowan noticing, you can ensure safety. She gives a curt nod, letting you take her hand in yours again. You're faster than her, she knows that. You slowly pull her with you, quietly stepping away and towards the fair.
You only make it a few steps, until Wednesday steps on a branch.
The small twig cracks under her boot, and within an instant, Rowan whips his head around to you both, staring back at him like a pair of deer in headlights. He takes a few menacing steps forward. "There you are," he draws out in between wheezy breaths. His hand comes up, ready to crush her, but before he can use his ability, a large, hulking creature grabs him by the leg, whipping him around and down onto the ground.
You and Wednesday watch in horror as Rowan screams, and the creature rears up on its hind legs, coming down and smashing Rowan with its fists. You can hear the crunching of his bones and then the tearing of flesh as the creature's claws dig into the boy's skin. Wednesday's hand is still in yours, and she squeezes it harshly, small black fingernails digging into the back of your hand, pulling you down to the ground with her and then scooting back.
The attack is short but brutal, and you see bits of Rowan's chest go flying and pure red maw. The creature whips around to you when Rowan goes silent, staring at Wednesday with intensity in its big eyes. Then it scrambles off, tearing through the woods and into the darkness.
As soon as it's gone, Wednesday rushes forward in the leaves, going to Rowan's side. You clamber to your feet, watching the direction the creature went with wide eyes. When you turn back to Wednesday, you catch her shoving something in her pocket. You don't ask what it is, but you make a mental note to ask later.
"Please," she says, a bit panicked. Her fingers are coated in Rowan's blood. "Go get Weems."
===+++===
Another not-too-awful thing about Nevermore was the breakfast. You sat at an abandoned picnic table in the corner of the quad, finishing your eggs, when Wednesday slammed her hands down on the wood with a loud thunk. You jumped in your seat, startled by the noise, dropping your egg back onto your plate.
"What exactly did you see last night?" she demanded, glaring.
Your eyes widened at her tone. It was harsher than normal, and she wore her frustration on her sleeve. A few students at nearby tables sent you suspicious and wary glances. Over Wednesday's shoulder, you could see her roommate, Enid, staring at you.
Most important was Weems, who looked down at you from the balcony above. You composed yourself and looked back down to Wednesday, shrugging nonchalantly, as if to say you didn't know.
Wednesday gritted her teeth harder. "But you do know. We saw Rowan get eviscerated by that creature. You were there. So why did you tell Weems you didn't see anything?!"
You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head at her, doubling down. This was no place to get into it. No place to tell the truth. You slid your notebook towards her.
i saw him this morning.
She huffed, stomping off. You knew exactly why you saw him that morning, actually. Weems had shown you her powers a time or two, and you knew that 'Rowan' was just her in disguise. But you also didn't know if it was something you wanted to share yet. You, too, had been a bit miffed at seeing Weems pretend to be Rowan, but you also knew Weems' powers gave her an advantage, and you were too loyal to take that away from her. You owed her too much.
The question of why still rang in your mind, though. Why was she so eager to cover it up? She had never at least lied to you, so this lie seemed out of left field.
You saw the fake Rowan several times throughout the day. Each time you did your best to let Weems know you knew, and she seemed wary of you, avoiding you at every intersection. You spent the night thinking, wandering around Nevermore, stopping in the library and pulling out several books.
Wednesday had shoved something in her pocket, something that Rowan had. Something about her dooming Nevermore, about being dangerous. You raked through all the books about prophecies, not finding anything of interest and giving up at around one in the morning. No books were missing a piece of paper, and no books mentioned Wednesday's name. You could find a few references to someone named Goody, but she seemed unimportant among the other Addams ancestors, having been dead for hundreds of years. You made another mental bookmark to look more into it, later.
You trudged back to your dorm, already regretting your choices, considering you had an 8 am class in the morning. The school was peaceful again, and as you climbed the stairs, you could hear the trickle of the fountain.
But the moment your shoe placed itself upon the landing, you froze. Your door hung open slightly, just cracked, and right in the way was the same hand you had seen on your first night. You straightened up, feeling more awake, and more annoyed, now.
You pushed your own door open, knocking loudly on the wood like it wasn't your own room, illustrating your frustration. Wednesday turned towards you, unimpressed. She had your journal in her hands, the other one not meant for your communication but for your theories.
It was open to the photo you had just taken, of the claw mark. Right above it you had put the photo of the deaf old man, and right on the photo of the claw mark, you had 'Rowan' written in red sharpie and underlined several times.
You crossed your arms, glowering at her. The hand scuttled towards her, stopping halfway. "So you were hiding something," Wednesday says. "You know that Rowan isn't Rowan. You know he's dead."
You silently swallow, crossing the room until you are right in front of her. Wednesday's eye contact is intense, and you look down at your own notebook, feeling her watching you as you take it from her hands. You can feel her breath fanning against your face, and she smells like pomegranate and fresh petrichor. You turn the page to the drawing you've made of the creature. It's a little off; some of the details are fuzzy regarding last night. But it's the creature as best as you can remember it, and Wednesday nods.
"That's what I saw, too. That's what I want to find," she says. "That's what you're going to help me find."
This time, you can't find it in yourself to refuse.
===+++===
this was the first episode and a bit of episode 2. i really liked doing the mute reader but boy is it hard to write communication without dialogue. it does so much heavy lifting for characterisation. can't wait to see where this one goes, and it'll probably take me two or three parts to get through the whole season, is my hope.
#letorip#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams x you
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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#dpxbnha#dp x bnha#dp x mha#dpxmha#minji's writing#dp prompt#dp x bnha prompt
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[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]
Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.
His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:
"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.
Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"
"I was just trying to-"
"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."
Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.
You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.
He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.
In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.
So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.
"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."
"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.
His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.
"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.
Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."
#mihawk one piece#mihawk#one piece mihawk#mihawk fanfiction#dracule mihawk#mihawk x reader#one piece#opla#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#one piece imagine#dracule mihawk fanfic#dracule mihawk x you#dracule mihawk fanfiction#dracule mihawk x reader
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it's too late. | thanos (choi su-bong)
| in which a pregnant girl encounters her ex-boyfriend in a game of survival, for a shot to win some money to pay off their debts.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: none really... just a lot of angst!
NOT proof-read!!
"hey señorita... y/n!"
oh don't tell me that's who i think it is...
i turned around slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. it was like time had frozen for a moment. the moment i had feared, the moment i never expected. there he was.
choi su-bong.
my high-school sweetheart. the boy who once promised me everything. the boy who left when i needed him the most. the boy who broke my heart and disappeared without a trace.
i could hardly breathe as i met his eyes. those same eyes i had fallen in love with at sixteen. the purple hair that was styled but messier than i remembered. the tattoos that covered his hands and his fingers; each one a reminder of who he'd become. the coloured nails, the silver rings that flashed with every movement. that same damn smile; the one that made my heart race, now felt like a dagger lodged in my chest.
"su-bong..." i said, my voice barely above a whisper. the words so heavy with unspoken moments of pain and longing. my hand moved instinctively to rest on my stomach, the one thing that had grown in his absence. but i didn't expect him to notice. why would he? not after everything.
he froze for a moment, as if he didn't know what to do with me. his eyes flickered to my stomach, then quickly shifted away, the confusion creeping into his expression. he looked...lost. like he was seeing me, but not really understanding. i could see the change in him; the same boy i loved at sixteen, but somehow... different. colder.
"you look different," he said slowly, taking a step forward, his voice carrying a touch of hesitation. his eyes searched mine, like he was trying to find the girl he once knew in the woman standing before him. but he didn't get the chance.
"yeah," i replied flatly, trying to keep my composure, my voice colder than i intended. "a lot has changed su-bong."
i wanted him to know how much he had missed, how much he had left. i wanted him to feel the weight of his absence, the pain of being alone when i needed him the most. but i didn't want to show him any weakness. not now. not after everything.
he shifted uncomfortably, like my coldness was making him second-guess himself.
"look i know it's been a while, but we need to talk."
we need to talk? what the fuck. my mind screamed. we've already had this conversation, haven't we? but the words caught in my throat. i couldn't bring myself to say it. not yet. the truth, the pain, it was all so close to the surface, and if i let it out now, it would swallow me whole.
"what do you want, su-bong?" i asked, my voice tight, trying to keep the shaking at bay. "why are you even here?"
his face darkened, the usual cocky swagger replaced by something more... raw. something real. "debt," he said, the word coming out low, reluctant. "i invested everything into crypto. lost it all. i’m here because of my mistakes."
i nodded slowly, the reality of his words sinking in like ice water. "yeah, i know," i muttered bitterly. "i’ve been paying for it too, haven’t i?"
he looked away for a second, but i could see the shame in his eyes. the guilt. it didn’t matter, though. it never mattered before, so why should it matter now?
but then, as if the silence between us wasn’t enough, his eyes flicked down to my stomach. a quick glance, but it was enough. his face went pale, his breath catching in his throat. the shock was instant.
"wait…" he whispered, stepping closer. his voice cracked slightly. "are you-"
i didn’t let him finish. i couldn’t. i felt it welling up inside me—everything i had kept hidden for months. the hurt, the anger, the grief. i pressed my hand to my stomach again, my heart racing as i forced the words out.
"i’m pregnant," i said, my voice barely a whisper, but it felt like it echoed between us. "and it’s yours."
his face went blank. completely blank. like he couldn’t process it. like the words hadn’t even reached him yet. i saw his mouth open, but no sound came out.
i stepped back, keeping my distance, my chest tight. "you weren’t there, su-bong. not when i needed you. not when we needed you."
his expression crumpled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "i didn’t know," he said hoarsely. "i didn’t know, y/n. i swear."
"you should’ve known," i shot back, my voice cracking despite my efforts to stay composed. "you should’ve been here. but you weren’t. you walked away when i needed you the most."
he took a step closer, but i held up my hand to stop him. "no. don’t come near me."
"i messed up," he said, his voice rough, guilt and regret flooding his words. "i was stupid. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i thought… i thought i could fix it. i was trying to make something of myself, but i messed everything up. i messed us up."
"us?" i scoffed, shaking my head. "there was no 'us,' su-bong. there was only you and your damn dreams. your rap career. your crypto, your debts, your selfishness. there was never any 'us' when i needed you. i was alone, and now you think you can just walk back in like nothing happened?"
i felt my hands shaking, my breath coming faster as the anger bubbled up. i wanted to scream. i wanted to cry. but all i could do was stand there, staring at the boy who had left me. the boy who would never understand the weight of what he had done.
"i should’ve been there," he muttered, the words barely a whisper. "but i wasn’t. i’m sorry, y/n."
the words meant nothing anymore. they were hollow. meaningless. he was sorry, but sorry wouldn’t change anything.
"yeah," i said, my voice trembling now. "you should’ve. but you weren’t. and it’s too late."
i took a shaky breath, pushing the tears back. i couldn’t break down in front of him. not now. not after everything.
"you can’t fix this, su-bong," i whispered, the finality in my voice cutting through the space between us. "you can’t fix what’s already broken."
he stood there, staring at me like he didn’t know what to do with himself, with us. i turned away, my heart pounding in my chest. my body felt heavy with the truth i had finally told him.
"i’m done," i said softly, my voice breaking. "you should leave. just go."
without another word, i walked away, leaving him behind.
#squid game x reader#choi su bong#choi su bong x reader#thanos#squid game thanos#thanos x reader#t.o.p bigbang#t.o.p x reader#choi seunghyun#squid game s2#squid game angst#angst#pregnant!reader
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BBB
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*
18+ only read at your own risk
Word count: 3248
Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay.
AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)
This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.
“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room.
“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.
“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains.
“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”
“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself.
“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.
***********************************************************************
A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.
For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.
She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.
But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.
Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.
“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community.
She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.
What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.
“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.
“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”
“Okay. That sounds fun.”
You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.
You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.
Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.
***********************************************************************
“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.
“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.
“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part.
“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter.
Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.
“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness.
“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.
***********************************************************************
Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick.
She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:
From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk
Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?
Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:
To Y/N: Ok
***********************************************************************
“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.
“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.
“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”
“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.
“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.
Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”
“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.
“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.
“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”
“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.
You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it.
“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.
“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”
“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.
“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.
“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”
Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.
“Why the change?” she asks.
You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”
Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”
“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.
“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed.
She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.
“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.
“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.
“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm.
“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too.
Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach.
“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements.
“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.
“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist.
Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.
“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”
The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.
“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.
She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock.
“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”
“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”
“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm.
“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.
“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.
“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.
“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.
“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”
You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious.
“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”
Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.
“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.
“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Sorry to Sam lol
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#sergeant beef au#natasha romanoff x reader
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dbf!miguel staying over
i mean....... i had to eventually...
w.c: 2.6k
content warning: alcohol usage, age gap (reader is 21, Miguel is 35), smut, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight dom/sub dynamic but not really because mig is such a sweetie and reader is sassy af, teasing because mig is secretly a meanie :(, not really tho he wants it just as much as her, big scary men whimpering!!!
sorry for y'all who don't speak spanish cuz i didn't feel like adding translations because it messed up the look but dw most of it is in english
Miguel and your father have been friends since college.
When your dad needed help with homework, Miguel was there. When your dad needed someone to pass to during the game, Miguel was there. When your dad mourned the loss of your mom, taken from the world too soon, Miguel was there. There were countless nights where Miguel would tutor your dad on subjects he struggled with after missing classes to take care of you: the angel he was gifted with in high school. Although he admits you came into his life a bit too early for comfort, he has always loved and prioritized you. And Miguel quickly became your dad’s best friend because, although he never met you, he could tell just how much your father cared about you.
And so he was always there for your dad. All through college and beyond.
It wasn’t until you started college that Miguel had the pleasure of meeting you. Your dad had planned a hangout with the three of you, telling you about how important it is to have a good friend on your side, how it helped him when times got tough.
And now you’re 21 - sitting on your childhood bed after coming home from college for the summer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Miguel since you’ve been home. When you met him three years ago, you were somewhat intimidated by him. How could you not? Look at the sheer size of that man. But you came to know through your school breaks that he was a lot more laid-back than you previously thought. You hate to admit it, but you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It’s stupid, you know, but how could you possibly resist those deep brown eyes and that smooth baritone voice that pulls you in every time?
Knock knock “Chiquita?”
You recognized that silky tone. It was Miguel.
“Yeah?” you say, putting your phone to the side. “Come in.” The doorknob twists and your door slowly creeps open. Behind it was that beautiful man: soft brown curls, slightly hidden by a backwards cap, a strong nose, dusty jeans that hug his legs just right, and a plain white tee with a gold cross dangling from a chain around his neck. Your dad’s best friend. Miguel.
He steps into your room and lingers by the door, a lazy smile across his face. Dios… he was something else.
“¿Qué estás haciendo, mami? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
You sit up straighter, trying not to look as lousy as you feel. He came in here looking like a goddamn Roman god and you’re just sitting in your pjs. “Just scrolling,” you reply. “Trying to enjoy my time without homework.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Your papi invited me over,” he says, stepping further into the room. “Just to catch up and share a few Modelos.”
You watch his arms cross over his chest, the sleeves of his tee tightening around his huge arms. “Doesn’t explain why you’re in here,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be out back with him, then?”
“What, ¿no puedo saludar a la hija de mi amigo?" he laughs. “That’s not fair.” he adds with a fake pout that makes you giggle.
“I didn’t say that,” you smile. He walks over and sits on the edge of your bed. You notice his watch gleam in the sunlight filtering through your windows. “Did you come here from work? Your shirt is dirty as hell.”
“You know how it is, beba. Being a blue collar worker is a tough job.”
You snort. “Please, being a mechanic is hardly blue collar work. You stay inside a garage all day.”
“My customers would beg to differ,” Miguel says. “You should see how many señoras come into my garage looking for a replacement for their shitty husbands.”
“Makes me feel like they’re tryna put a ring on it.” he wiggles his calloused fingers in front of you for added effect.
“Well, it makes sense,” you say. “You’re about their age anyway.”
“Oye!” he laughs. “I’m thirty-five, thank you very much. Not even close to their age.”
You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, viejo.”
The sun had set an hour ago and he hadn’t gone home yet.
Despite the amount of times Miguel offered to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, your father insisted he stay for “ten more minutes” and handed him another beer each time. The sound of the two men laughing from the living room kept you awake. It normally wouldn’t bother you, since you’re a night owl anyway, but you have plans with your friend tomorrow that you have to wake up early for.
You exit the comfort of your bedroom and head into the living room where you find Miguel and your dad chatting loudly on the couch. Miguel’s arm is draped over the back of the sofa, which accentuates his already defined chest - not to mention the dim lamp light casting beautiful shadows on his face.
“Ah, mija, there you are!” your father exclaims, very drunkenly. “I was wondering where you were. No te he visto en todo el día!”
“Lo siento, papi.” You reply, leaning against the wall. Miguel’s stare feels hot on your skin. You can see him through your peripheral vision, looking as handsome as ever.
“Es tarde en la noche, chiquita.” Miguel says, his words coming out slower due to all the Modelo in his system. “Why are you still up?”
“That’s exactly why I came in here; to tell you two to shut up.”
“¡Oye! Watch your mouth, mija.” your dad says sternly, while Miguel just chuckles.
“Sorry, pequeña,” Miguel says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “We’ll keep it down. But don’t swear at your padre, yeah? Respect your elders.”
“Uh huh.” you shrug, waving the two men goodbye as you retire to your bedroom. You were sure that Miguel would still be there when you woke up in the morning, but hopefully he’ll be passed out by then and not still chatting with your dad.
----
You fall asleep almost immediately. The newly-installed fan in your room helped rid the summer heat and cool your bedroom to a comfortable temperature, while still allowing you to snuggle up under the blankets. A band tee and plain panties is all you wore, which was normal for you unless you were staying at a friend's house - at which point you’d obviously throw on some shorts. The moon shining through your windows acts as a sort of night-light, and you’re soothed to sleep by the crickets outside and the less-deafening sound of chatter from your living room.
Your alarm wakes you up around 8am, which is earlier than you normally start your day. As you go to turn off the noise, you hear a tired groan come from behind you. “Mmph… turn that off.”
You flinch and turn around, covering yourself with your blankets at the stranger in your bed. But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Miguel.
“Miguel!” you whisper-shout, nudging his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
He huffs and pushes his face into your pillow, and this is your first chance to get a good look at him. He’s shirtless, of course, but his muscular frame isn’t what draws you to him. His hair is tousled from sleep in a way you haven’t seen before, a grumpy pout peeking out from the pillow he’s buried his face in. He still has his gold chain around his neck, but he seems to have discarded his hat and jeans - which you see laying on your floor. You knew this man was gorgeous… but this was the most stunning you’ve ever seen him. The morning light only makes it better.
“Tu papá durmió en el sofá,” he mumbled, the sleepiness of his voice making him sound more attractive than ever. “And his room was too hot to sleep in.”
“That doesn’t explain why you decided to crawl into my bed unannounced.” you say.
He turns his head to look at you, and one of his arms slides under his pillow to prop himself up. “Cálmate, princesa. You had tons of room and it was cool in here.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
You sit up and brush the hair out of your face, trying to wake yourself up so that you can get ready. Miguel sleepily snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you back down. Your head flops on the pillow and messes up your hair once again.
“Quédate, mami. Sleep with me.” he mumbles, closing his eyes once more.
“E-Excuse me!?” Oh you were definitely blushing now. No way he just said that! You knew that he didn’t actually mean it like that… but you also knew that he wasn’t dumb. Whether his intentions were pure or not, you knew that he worded it that way on purpose. Was your silly little crush reciprocated?
He hugs you closer to him, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The cold metal of his necklace makes you shiver, especially in contrast with how hot his body is. Temperature, you mean.
“You heard me.” he doubles down.
“Do you even-”
“I know what I said, chiquita.” Miguel opens his eyes now - the lazy drawl of his voice becoming more awake and purposeful. His gaze on you is unbearable. You could feel the intensity of his stare. “And I know what I meant.”
You stare at him in silence. How could you speak? The man who you’ve had a crush on since you started college was in your bed, half naked, making a move on you. Part of you thinks that he’s waited long enough to finally do this, but another part of you feels some sort of guilt. He’s over a decade older than you, and a family friend no less. You can see through his eyes that he feels similarly, but his passion is overpowering any sense of guilt. Besides, you’re both adults. How bad could it be?
He leans over you, pinning you down onto your own mattress. A position that’s typically domineering, and yet, you can see his gaze soften uncharacteristically for him. He brushes a strand of loose hair away from your face.
“Que linda…” he mumbles, eyes trailing all over your face. “Eres tan hermosa.”
Miguel leans his face closer to yours, his gold cross dangling from his neck and touching yours. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You’re stunned but also… excited?
“Miguel.”
“Yes?”
“Quiero sentirte.” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. You hear his breath catch in his throat. “Tócame. Hazme el amor.”
He chuckles, a flirty pout crossing his face. “Oh, pobrecita…” he grins, tracing your jawline with his dexterous fingers. Your face tilts up closer to his, your lips brushing as he speaks. “You know I can’t do that.”
...
What?
“Why not?” he can visibly hear the disappointment in your voice. It almost makes him feel bad, especially with how beautiful you look in the morning light.
“Don’t wanna wake your papi, nena.” he caresses your face once more, leaning back a little so he can look at your face properly. “I can’t make you scream while everyone else is asleep. We have to keep this a secret. But where’s the fun in sex if I can’t hear your pretty whines, hm?”
You smack his chest. “Oh fuck off, Mig. Come here.”
Before he can respond, you grab him by his necklace and drag him down to your lips. The moment your mouths connect, it’s like fireworks going off in his head. He swears you taste better than any bizcocho he’s ever had. Miguel holds your waist as you tangle your hands through his hair, and he lets out a soft groan. His hips involuntarily rut against your thigh, and he decides he can’t take it anymore.
His hand dips between the two of you to tug your panties down, freeing your skin to his touch. His thumb lazily circles your clit, while the other calloused hand is still resting on your hips. He feels like he’s in heaven, feeling you squirm underneath him, but he knows this is only the start of the fun you’ll have together. He swallows every sound you make with his lips on yours, his tongue fighting with yours for control. He pulls his hands back once he’s sure that you’re wet and ready. You two are gasping for air by the time your lips part, and his deep eyes look into yours with a silent plea. You nod your head desperately.
Miguel makes quick work of removing what little clothes he had left on his lower body before sinking into your warmth, slowly but surely. You gasp.
He leans his forehead against yours, savoring the moment of stillness. It’s like you two are in your own little bubble - no one else can interfere. He kisses you lovingly as he starts to move, silencing any moans or sighs you might have that others could hear. You’re just for him, no one else can experience you. His thrusts are slow, but agonizingly deep. You feel it deep in your core, kissing your cervix with every push of his hips forward.
“God…” he whines. “You feel so fucking good. So good for me, baby.” You arch against him, your hands dragging along his back for support. He glances down at where your two bodies connect, and the sight almost makes him pass out. “Que cosita más linda, mami.” he whispers.
“Damelo… please..” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut with all the pleasure you feel.
“I am, nena, I am. It’s all for you, princesa. I promise.”
His pace speeds up a little more, but he’s still pushing into you just as deep, “Show me you love it, baby. Mírame.”
You meet his gaze with glassy eyes, breathing heavily and nails digging into his back. You wrap your legs around his slim waist and he throws his head back at the tighter feel. “That’s it, baby. Así así…”
He’s rutting into you wildly, chasing his high. You look down to watch as his dick disappears into your cunt. The wet sounds of his hips smacking yours clouds your mind. Each roll of his hips brings you closer to the edge. “You’re so pretty, muñeca. So so pretty f’me.”
His large hands sneak under your t-shirt and grope your tits, squeezing and caressing in a way that makes you hazy. “Want you to look at me while I fill you up. Can you do that for me, baby?”
You nod your head frantically, scratching the skin of his shoulders. You’ve never wanted anything more. The two of you are getting dangerously close to climax, and you swear you can hear him whimper.
“God, baby, feels so fucking good. No puedo más, no puedo más…!”
A squeal escapes you as he spills into your heat, with your own crescendo arriving shortly after. There’s a creamy white ring around his base as he starts to slow the roll of his hips. Miguel eventually stills and collapses, hugging you close in the same sort of cuddle as before, but still resting inside you.
After the exhaustion wears off, you pull back to stare into his eyes. A hand comes up to cup his face, rubbing his flushed cheek gently. “That was fucking amazing, Mig. I haven’t felt that good in so long.”
He laughs softly, returning your affectionate gaze. “Do you think your papi heard us?”
“Definitely not.” you giggle. “He’s a heavy sleeper.”
“That’s good.” Miguel holds you for a few more minutes, just silently staring at you. You can’t even imagine how blissed out you must look right now, but it’s all so gorgeous to him. “Eres increíble, mi vida.”
You hum in delight, stroking his cheeks once more. “You too, mi cielo.”
... you're gonna have to cancel your plans for today.
sort of switched to Miguel's pov in the last section cuz i wanted to experiment :))))
i hope you guys liked it!! dbf!miguel inspiration from @mybvalentine
and yes... he's a mechanic. it just suits him ok??
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webshooterrr9
#webshooterrr9#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#fanfic#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x you#atsv miguel#i wrote this with one hand#dbf!miguel#owns my heart#mechanic!miguel
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to call you mine.
anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)
"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.
Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.
Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.
You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.
Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.
Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.
But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.
Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.
You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.
We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?
The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.
It would never be enough.
You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.
Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.
But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.
A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.
And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.
Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.
Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.
"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.
How time had flown since then.
The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.
"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.
Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.
Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.
You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.
"We should keep walking, mother," you said.
"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."
"But mother—"
"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."
You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."
She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.
When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.
She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.
"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.
You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.
He was looking.
Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.
Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.
You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.
As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.
"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.
Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"
You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.
Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."
You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."
Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."
Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.
You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.
The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.
You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.
He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.
You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.
His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.
"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.
You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."
Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.
"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."
You blinked slowly. "How did you—"
"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."
"He does?"
Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.
"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."
Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."
"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.
"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."
He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.
He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.
He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.
He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.
But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.
He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.
Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.
In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.
How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.
You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.
"Anthony—"
"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."
You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.
But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.
You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.
When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.
"I need you," he said.
"Anthony..."
"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."
You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."
You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.
"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."
"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."
He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."
You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"
"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.
"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."
"What are you asking me, Anthony?"
"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."
"You wish for me to marry you?"
"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.
"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"
"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.
You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.
"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.
His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"
"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."
He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."
"No. Swear it."
He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."
tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l
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