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starsofang · 3 months ago

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART TWELVE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, heavy topics such as death, blood, and past trauma mentioned masterlist a/n: thank you for all your support while i grow through a difficult time!! i appreciate all of you for being so patient and loving. long chapter for u!! <3

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Ghost didn’t remember much about his childhood. His mind blocked it out for him. But he did remember the pain and suffering he went through at such a young age.

He didn’t deserve that. Seeing his family, massacred in front of him. The blood mixed with the metallic scent that even now seemed to tinge his nose with a nostalgia that made him sick.

He was only a child, yet that was the day Ghost was born within him.

It was like an awakening. He saw how cruel the world could be through a pure lens and it tainted his vision red. Nothing was ever the same that day, and gradually, Simon was forgotten and Ghost was his new muse.

He could recall the nights he spent alone, digging through waste bins and slumping out on the streets like a dead dog. Stealing bread from shop merchants and having to run, barefooted to avoid getting beaten. Freezing to death on the street corner when winter came around and the pure snow covered the ground in a blanket.

It was scary for a boy his age. Dehumanizing. He didn’t deserve that.

He thought he was lucky when a ship crew came along, parading the streets to offer security. A job, a place to sleep, and meals — it seemed perfect for somebody who had absolutely nothing.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Ghost never saw Simon again after that day. He was lost somewhere at sea, hidden under the roar of waves. Ghost didn’t know where to look for him until soon enough, Simon had disappeared and Ghost replaced him. Graves made sure of that.

A captain, like hell he was. Ghost knew something wasn’t quite right about Graves the moment he met him, yet as a child, he was desperate. Once he was in, it was too late, and the broken pieces of him became completely irreparable.

Graves held a devilish aura about him, one Ghost could practically see radiating around him. Every step he took was one closer to chaos.

No matter the destination, Ghost was held on by a leash with Graves being the handler. The sights Ghost saw, some being from his doing, was something he’d never get back. It was as if reliving that very day where he lost everything.

Living amongst Graves’ crew was worse than living in hell. He would’ve preferred it. To be banished for his sins, to taste the sweet nectar of death, and live his eternity punished. Anything to stray from Graves and his ship.

When he saw the way you looked—the darkness looming over you, the distress in your eyes—he saw himself. And when he saw Graves, he saw the life that was stolen from him.

That red that clouded his lens when he was a child was all he could see. Pure, angry red.

Now, standing in Price’s quarters, that red only grew angrier. This time, for you—for putting you in the same position he’d been stuck in for years.

You didn’t deserve that.

Your mind was a whirlwind of chaos. It was struggling to digest the information given to you. So much at once and you could barely manage to keep yourself together.

Everybody looked sorry for you. Ghost looked enraged. Price was lost. Soap and Gaz were remorseful. It was too much.

You hated that they looked at you like that. You hated when they didn’t look at you like that more. Having them worry, when for the duration of your stay it was like walking on burning rocks, it felt strange.

Their own worry caused yours as well.

“What is that?” you asked. “The mark of death. I— I don’t know what that is. What does that mean?”

You were becoming more frantic. The panic that ensued was growing, and you could tell it bothered Price. He was quick to grasp your shoulders, settling you.

“It’s complicated,” he explained quietly, hushing you. “That man you saw? His name is Phillip Graves. Some call him the Devil of the Seas. He’s a wicked pirate who feeds off of the innocent, their fear. None of us know what he truly is, not even Ghost, but we believe he’s apart of something sinister.”

“What, like he’s sold his soul? Made amends with the Devil? You are talking madness!” you exclaimed, exasperated.

“We are talkin’ truth,” Price corrected. He was as patient as ever, yet still held the firmness of a leader. “He’s that of a reaper. Souls is what he wants. The mark of death is his contract, you may say.”

“But you are not telling me what the mark does,” you cried.

Your head hurt. The world was spinning. You didn’t understand.

“I think it’s quite obvious what the markin’ is, dove,” the Captain said solemnly. “It is only by miracle it hasn’t happened to Ghost yet.”

“So I am to die? Is that it?” You flickered your gaze between each man. Your eyes told a million stories, and each of them were ones of fear and anguish. “I am going to die?”

“No,” Ghost snapped. You looked at him. He seemed as pain as you were, but the anger was taking over logic. “You ain’t dyin’. Not today, not tomorrow. M’not lettin’ it happen.”

“Ghost,” Soap tried, but he was quickly shut down.

“I said no,” he repeated resentfully. “Price, show her the map.”

Price turned to him, stiffening. It seemed he still didn’t quite want to let you know the full truth. Now, you felt it was to protect you rather than leave you out. It was too late for protection.

The Captain silently walked to his desk, pulling open the old drawer with a slam, shaking the table. He pulled out the map you’d seen so long ago, unrolling it and slapping it on the table.

“Come, dove,” he called, and you listened.

The men surrounded the desk with you, staring down at the map. The ink was still the same as it was before—islands crossed out with an X, while one remained circled.

“Suppose it’s time you knew, hm?” he asked, offering the smallest of smiles. You found that you missed his real one. The one he tried to hide when he found a joke of yours humorous.

Your nerves shot up. Your emotions were at an all-time high. You were scared, scared to find out the truth.

“These islands,” he began, tracing his finger along the map to point at the ones with an X, “are all land marked by Graves. Every single one, we went to in search of a medic. The one in the poem, remember?”

The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

You weren’t sure how it linked to you. You’d never met Graves, nor had you met your pirate crew until they took you away. The connection wasn’t there. It didn’t make sense.

“Yes, I remember,” you confirmed quietly. “What does it have to do with me?”

“We searched for a medic from every village, yet when we arrived, they were famished with death, or on the brink of,” he explained. “All of the villages were all succumbin’ to Graves’ mark of death. We think he was attemptin’ to get rid of all villages as much as he could so we wouldn’t be able to find their medics. We don’t know how, but he knows we have the prophecy, and he doesn’t like it.”

“And how do you know the prophecy is related to Graves?” you questioned. “How do you know it relates to me?”

“Ghost got the prophecy a long time ago when he was still on Graves’ ship,” Soap piped in. His hands rested on the table and he leaned over the map, but his eyes bore into yours. “He was searchin’ for answers even then. This is all he got.”

You couldn’t imagine the desperation Ghost must have felt, knowing Graves had him under his despicable spell. Not knowing whether he was going to live or die.

Your heart ached.

“And me?”

The room went silent, as if your words burned a wound in them.

“Your village had the mark, yet nobody had suffered from it,” Gaz said quietly. His eyes were soft when he looked at you with the unmistakable glimmer of pity in them. “We knew you were the one we were lookin’ for.”

“My village was not cursed,” you denied, shaking your head. “There is simply no possibility. We rarely got outsiders unless they were coming to browse the merchants.”

It clicked in your head how quickly it must’ve happened. Graves, visiting your village under the guise of an innocent shopper, gearing his interest towards the various merchants that littered your small streets.

It would’ve been so easy for him. So terribly easy.

Your people died to Price’s crew, but the true evil was the man who gave the pirates reason to ensure a massacre.

“That’s why you did what you did,” you muttered to yourself in disbelief. “You killed them because of him. You killed Mary because of him.”

“The curse would’ve taken over the moment you left,” Gaz explained. “You were the shield protectin’ them without even knowin’. You’re meant to fulfill the prophecy, grantin’ you immunity until we found you.”

All this talk about a prophecy made you want to scream, cry, yell, anything. Why you? Why were you the one chosen, and why did it have to be you?

You wanted your life back. You didn’t want to be apart of this.

Before you knew it, tears welled up in your eyes. They stung, causing you to blink rapidly. You didn’t want to seem weak, but in this moment, you were.

“Dove?” Gaz called out, concerned.

“I don’t want this,” you cried, shaky hands balling into fists. “You—you knew I was apart of this and never told me. You kept me in the dark for this long, you hid me from the truth, and for why?”

“We don’t have all of the information yet, dove, please—” Price began, but you shut him down.

“Bullshit!” you shouted, and he reeled back in surprise. You had been outspoken before, plenty with the Captain especially, but he had never seen you lash out so fiercely. “You took my life away because you assumed I was the one in your ridiculous prophecy on a whim. You took a guess and went with it. I am hardly a proper medic, let alone worthy enough to be that person for you, so why have you chosen me?”

“You must understand, you were the only medic left alive,” Price defended. “We had no choice. We did what we had to do.”

“At my expense,” you argued.

“At all of our expense,” he retorted. “I did not care for your life when we stole it. I did not care for it when you were locked in the brig. I cared for Simon’s.”

You fell silent, whipping your head to look at Ghost. You’d heard Price call him Simon before, by a slip-up, but now he had said it purposely. Ghost simply looked away, arms crossed over his chest.

All that talk before and now, at your aid, he was as quiet as a street mouse.

“Without you, he will die. We do not know when. Graves hasn’t killed him due to the thrill of holdin’ his life in his hands. It’s a toy to him. He can take his life away at any moment, and I would not allow that, even if it meant ruinin’ yours.”

Price’s cheeks were reddened from the frustration and helplessness he was feeling. He was a Captain trying to save his crew’s life, uncaring of yours—in the beginning, at least.

Now, the mere thought of losing both had him kneeling like a pitiful dog to the Devil of the Seas.

“I do not wish to be here,” you murmured, taking a step back. Soap opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him. “I need to be alone.”

The Captain gave you a sad smile, nodding his head. He was respecting your wishes.

“As you wish,” he agreed, and you made your way out of the suffocating quarters, returning to your shared one with Gaz and Soap.

“Dove,” a voice called out. It was quiet, like it was whispering, yet to you, it sounded loud. You hated its voice.

It was black. Your eyes couldn’t adjust to the light, no matter how much you shifted them to look around.

Your body felt heavy, as if something was weighing on you. Your lungs were tight, and when you opened your mouth for air, nothing came in. You slapped your hands over your throat, clawing at the skin.

Why couldn’t you breathe? You felt like you were drowning. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t take in an ounce of air, and you could feel your lungs beginning to protest.

A cold panic came over you, like an icy wave consuming you in its dangerous waters. You tried to move your legs, but they were stuck. They were too heavy.

All you could do was helplessly paw at your throat, praying to gasp for a breath, praying that the Gods had mercy on you.

“Dove,” it whispered once more. Where had you heard the voice before? You knew it, but your mind was blanking from the lack of oxygen.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove,” it mocked.

Dove. Dove. Dove.

“Dove!”

You shot awake, a sharp gasp invading your lungs. The burning in your chest was harsh, and it was as if you truly hadn’t been breathing.

Coming to, you blinked the groggy confusion away, lifting a hand to wipe at your eyes.

Soap peered down at you, his eyebrows knitted worriedly. His hands were on each side of your shoulders, as if he’d shaken you awake, and when you realized you had been asleep, you only guessed that’s what he was doing.

“I kept callin’ ye but ye weren’t wakin’,” he said wearily. “Are y’alright?”

You glanced around the room, taking it in. Gaz’s bed. The clothes strewn on the floor. The mess on the small desk that you’d never seen occupied.

You were no longer suffocating in darkness. It was a mere dream—no, a nightmare. A terror.

You were safe.

“I don’t know,” you confessed breathily, still catching air.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you recalled the nightmare. You couldn’t remember the voice, not when you were fearing a death that was merely fake, but you knew now.

“Tell me,” Soap urged gently, taking a seat next to you on the bed. You sat up to join him, frowning at the floor. “It’s okay.”

You risked looking up at him, searching his eyes. They were soft whenever they looked at you, and they’d been like that since the beginning. He was always patient, even when you did things that cost him a scolding from Price.

You felt like you could trust him, more than any of them.

“It was that man,” you explained. “Graves. I think he is messing with my head. I dreamt of dying, like… like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. The whole time, I could hear his voice, calling me out. Mocking me.”

Soap listened carefully, taking in every one of your words. He cared, that much you could tell, and the situation weighed heavy on him. The worry lines on his face were proof.

Graves was tormenting with your mind, feeding into your fear. He knew you were terrified, and he enjoyed it. The way he mimicked what he told you, whispering it the same as before, it sent chills down your spine and made your blood run cold.

You understood now why Ghost was always a mystery—because he was scared, too. He just hid it better.

“I am scared,” you confessed shakily. “I do not want to die.”

“And ye won’t,” he assured, but you shook your head.

“You do not know that,” you argued. “None of you do. You have not given me a chance at life. I am stuck in this without a choice, and I am the new target. It’s not fair.”

Soap’s expression dropped into one of guilt. His focus shifted away from you, avoiding your eye, before returning back to you.

“It’s not,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve done to ye what Graves did to Ghost. Treatin’ ye like—like burdening scum, like ye don’t matter. I can’t express to ye how sorry I am for everythin’.”

You didn’t want an apology, but you accepted it nonetheless. It was the first anybody had truly apologized for the mess you were thrown into. Maybe it was something you needed without realizing. You felt a sliver of weight lifted.

“I never had a family,” you told him, staring down at your feet that hung over the side of the bed. The shoes Soap surprised you with stared back at you. “The village did not like my values or my lifestyle. It was hard being an outcast there, but it is even harder here.”

“Yer not an outcast.”

Looking back up at him, you found him smiling, a faint sparkle twinkling back at you.

“Not anymore. We thought ye were a little strange in the beginning, though,” he said, the end of his sentence bordering a tease.

You couldn’t stop your own smile from forming. Despite carrying the crushing weight of the world’s worries, as well as growing a headache with every word spoken from each of them ever since your arrival, you found yourself growing more fond over them the longer you lingered.

It’d been a bumpy road, and there were still miles ahead of you, waiting to unravel. But you couldn’t fully convince yourself that there wasn’t a part of you, yearning to belong with them.

“You are all very strange,” you retorted lightly. “I have never met such people as you before.”

“Thank ye.”

“It was not a compliment.”

Soap snorted, shaking his head at the banter. “The Captain is bitin’ tooth and nail in his quarters, thinkin’ he fucked this all up with ye. Never seen him that worried before, but with Graves bein’ around again, I don’t blame him.”

The statement caught you off guard, and you found yourself curious. “He is worried for me?”

Soap eyed you strangely, as if it had been obvious the whole time. “Ach. ‘Course he is. Cap’s got a good heart, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I did not realize he cared for me after everything,” you confessed.

Soap hummed, looking down at his trousers and picking at a loose thread. “We all do.”

You stared at him dumbly, cocking your head in question when he didn’t elaborate. You had become acquainted with them, surely, you lived with them now after all, but you weren’t aware they truly cared.

When Price had told you they’d grown fond of you, you didn’t quite believe it. You assumed it was his way of convincing you to trust him, but it seemed that wasn’t the truth.

The two of you sat in silence, staring anywhere but at each other. The awkwardness grew, and it felt strange to feel that when the relationships had been too uptight even consider having those moments.

You took the time to weigh out your options. The Captain being worried, especially over messing things up with you, had you in a turmoil.

As much as you wanted to deny the path chosen for you unwillingly, you felt an obligation to please them. Yet, not in the way you initially thought.

You didn’t want to let them down.

Maybe you truly were as strange as Soap thought.

“Is he still in there?” you asked Soap. He perked up, nodding his head.

“Aye. He’ll be rottin’ in there before we know it.”

You pursed your lips, facing that inner battle once more before coming to a conclusion. “Would you like to join me, then?”

Soap raised his eyebrows, watching you stand from the bed. You shot him a warm smile, tilting your head at his confusion.

“For?” he asked.

“You all need a medic,” you said, giving a nonchalant shrug. “And I do not wish to die by the hands of a filthy pirate such as Graves. I am in this now, so I suppose I’ll simply have to deal with it, am I correct?”

Soap’s smile slowly grew at your sudden courage, standing up to join you. He reached out for you, and once you became confused, he looped your arm with his, grinning down at you.

“Sure are, dove. I’ll come with ye.”

The Captain looked a mess when you entered his quarters with Soap. Ghost was beside him where Price sat at his desk, the map and prophecy still scattered on the table. The two of them were speaking hushed to one another, yet when the door opened and you stepped in, they went silent.

“She wanted to be alone, Soap,” Price protested, but you quickly shook your head, taking a step closer to the desk.

“It’s alright,” you assured. “I have had time to think.”

Price’s eyebrows raised and he glanced at Gaz for a brief moment before returning to you. “I see,” he hummed, nodding. “I have as well.”

You cocked your head, eyebrows furrowing. He gestured for Ghost and Soap to step out of the room, requesting privacy, and the sudden realization that you would in fact have to speak after your outburst made your nerves to churn.

Ghost gave your shoulder a light squeeze as he walked behind Soap, catching you off guard. When you looked at him, he stared forward, avoiding your gaze.

The door clicked shut as they left, and you stood uncomfortably in place, shifting on the balls of your feet.

“I owe you an apology,” Price began. “A true one. I may be a Captain, and I know in those regards, I come off rather violent. I can be a brute, I will admit, but I am also a man who knows times when he is right and wrong.”

He stood up from his chair, circling around the desk to face you. He leaned against the old wood, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. Upon quick inspection, you saw the faint smoke of his cigar swirling in its ashtray.

“I should not have treated you so unkindly since the beginning. I should have considered how scared you must have been, how alone it must feel,” he continued, eyes drifting off for a moment as if deep in perplexing thought. “I do not apologize for doin’ what I thought was right in that time to save my own, but I do feel sorrow for what transpired in your time bein’ here.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Ghost had been the reasoning for this. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you knew the respect him and Price had for one another. It was safe to assume he’d speak with him privately regarding everything.

“I’d like to apologize as well,” you began, but Price stood up straight, quick to raise his hands in protest.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for—”

“I am sorry for lashing out the way I did earlier,” you cut off. Price stopped, lips pressing together. His gaze remained stuck on you, now that you had his attention. “It does not excuse what you have done to me, and I see you have realized that. If this is to be my life, I wish for compromise rather than seclusion.”

Price didn’t say anything at first. His eyes darted over your face, taking in your features. He saw the calmness you held compared to when you were last in his quarters.

You didn’t seem defeated, nor did you seem to simply agree for the sake of him and the others. You wanted this for yourself.

“I will grant you that,” he agreed in a hum, nodding once. “I do not wish for you to feel out of place no longer. You have had enough of that, I believe.”

You took in his words, and they made you smile. It was what you wanted to hear—no angry exchanges, no selfish banter. A simple compromise, one you both wanted.

“Graves came to me in a dream,” you told him. His expression soured. “I believe there will be plenty more instances where he will do that. Based off of what you have told me about him, I do not want to prolong his presence longer than I must. So, I’d like to be of help.”

Just as quickly as Price grew tense at the mention of Graves, he calmed down, shoulders relaxing when he realized your implications.

“Soap has not convinced you, yes?” he asked, uncertain. “This is your call. I may have taken you due to my own selfishness, but I give you the choice now. You do not have to be a part of it if you do not want. You are part of us now, but this is not your battle.”

“It is,” you disagreed, though remained a calm composure. For the first time around Price, you felt at ease in the same room. “If I am to be part of your crew, your family, then your battles are my battles. I may not have had a family, but I am certain that’s how it works. Does it not?”

Price stared at you; expression unreadable. It took mere moments for his lips to slowly curl up, granting you one of his rare smiles that seemed to radiate a certain light you’d never seen before. It caused your heart to pick up, though you were unclear as to why.

“That is how it works with us, dove,” he agreed softly. “Your battles are ours. You can count on it.”

“Wonderful,” you cheered with a smile of your own. “Shall we continue what wasn’t finished before, then?”

Price chuckled low under his breath, his amusement growing the longer you stuck around. He nodded, tapping his desk and calling you to it.

“Come on, dove.”

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 25 days ago

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⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚

—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.

genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you. taglist ・@its-stayville-forever, @aris078, @emilywjinnie

a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!

☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎

BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)

☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎

LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎

︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎

HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎

☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁

HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎

LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁

KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎

YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)

a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x y/n #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids oneshot #stray kids blurb #— 🍪 writings

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cranberryjuice-posts · 10 months ago

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hiii want to say that i just met your blog and i obsessed with it!! i really love your writing. anddd i want to make a abby request, abby and reader are in college and abby is like super popular and when they start to date reader is called “abbys girl” all the time and get super flustered? i dont know if i express myself good, english is not my first language, sorry! hope u have a amazing day, xoxo <3

- Abby’s girl -

Pairings - modern au! Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader

An - this is kinda bad I’m sorry 😭😭 I wasn’t really sure what plot to write but I still appreciate the request.

Everybody was cheering. With only a minute left on the clock the Seattle wolves vrs the Jackson mustangs— one of the oldest lasting rivals on and off the court, were pushing one another around trying to keep Abby from making her shot.

The blonde dodged around trying to avoid the other team. Making it to the 3 point line she threw the ball. Going through the hoop the clock blared at the same time, the referees announced the wolves win making the home side scream with excitement.

Abby shouted happily, making eye contact with you she grinned. Making your way out of the stands was easier said then done.

Eventually getting to the locker room you walked towards Abby’s spot. One of her teammates walked past you taking a moment to say hi. “Shit It’s Abby’s girl, hey she’s just over there the girls are cheering for her”

You felt your face turn red, “oh thanks” with a smile you watched as she walked away before going towards the shouting. Being the girlfriend of the basketball team captain tended to help boost your own reputation. Most of them didn’t know your name only addressing you as ‘Abby’s girl’.

Was it your preferred way of being addressed… well no. But it wasn’t the end of the world, all it did really was embarrass you.

Setting your purse down by Abby’s duffel bag on the bench you watched as the girls other girls crowded around her, chanting Abby’s name while they all celebrated their big win which would now take them to state. You were and always will be Abby’s biggest supporter, no matter what you would never miss any of her games.

She instantly noticed your presence, breaking free abby quickly made her way to you. Grabbing you by the waist she pulled you into a messy kiss. It was full of adrenaline and not coordinated. Pulling back Abby kept her face close to yours. A few of the other girls on the team chuckled at the display making you blush. “Hey” abby flirted against your lips.

“Hi” You giggled “You did amazing out there.. I mean really I genuinely believe Your Gonna win this thing”

“And im Gonna do even better tonight” she continued her cocky streak, pressing your hips against hers.

You rolled your eyes finding her attempts at seduction funny. “Uh huh, I’m gonna wait for you outside ok” kissing her one more time you gasped as she grabbed your ass. You rolled your eyes as you pulled back, giving her a warning look as Abby remained on her high.

—

You sat down on a bench near by the exit. Pulling out your phone you started to scroll on Instagram, trying to decided what to make a post about. That and finding a new restaurant near by to take Abby to, just to celebrate her big win before she actually tried to get you pregnant.

“So your Abby’s girl huh?” A woman spoke. Looking up you were taken back by seeing Ellie Williams the Jackson mustangs team captain.

Confused you nodded “uh yeah..”

She just scoffed. “How the hell did she manage to pull you” standing up you grabbed your purse, Ellie knew you had been offended by what she said.

“First of all she didn’t pull anyone, how we got into a relationship was because she’s a good person and secondly” you looked her up and down “why are you even over here, your bus is on the other side of campus”

“Damn, I was just asking” she laughed crossing her arms “but seriously though Abby? Her being a good person, that’s total bullshit she’s anything but good, besides I can do anything she does”

“Except win a Game”

You could tell Ellie was starting to loose her patience. Why was she over by you, to hell if you knew. There was a tense silence between you both, before she could speak the back door opened.

Abby stood tall and strong as always only her former grin was replaced with a look of disgust. Getting up you walked over to her, kissing her cheek. “Williams”

“Anderson”

Both girls staring at each-other with a Look of hate, You had heard Time and time again the rivalry between the two schools and between their families. “Why are You over here, and better question why are you talking to my girl”

“Fuck dude nobody’s trying to fight Dina just forgot her bag inside I offered to come get it.” Ellie looked at one once again before gesturing her head to Abby. “Your Girl seems like a real catch, guess you got lucky”

“Guess i did” her response was harsh. At this point you were fed up with the conversation and dealing with Ellie. Grabbing Abby’s hand you pulled her away.

——

Sitting on Abby’s bed you laughed softly at watching her go on a rant. “And don’t get me started on Joel the sheer fucking audacity of that man! He punched my dad because he couldn’t help Ellie. I repeat he punched MY DAD— why are you laughing”

“Nothing Nothing its Just.. your really cute when you get mad” Abby flipped you off making you laugh once again. After a moment she sat down on the bed beside you, taking a calming breath she leaned over kissing you softly, slowly, sensually.. pulling back she gently squeezed your hand.

“What did I do to deserve you” she muttered.

“Not much but working out and getting buff and being blonde helped, you know the important shit” you gave her a charismatic smile

“Your not Funny”

“I’m hilarious”

#lesbian #wlw #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby headcanons #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #tlou fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

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justwinginglife · 5 months ago

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Dude just imagine Kafka has a little sister and everybody knows it but they didn't now that his little sister also now about her brother Kaiju secret.

So a scenario where kafka got notice but his sister defended him OR a scenario where the sister calls for Kafka bcs she's scared and couldn't handle losing her friends/comrades.(Almost like Daki calling Gyotaro hehehe)

Freader is Kafka little sister btw.

just choose which one you want to do I don't mind.

AHH sorry I took so long with this one. Got stuck in my Hoshina world for awhile. But I'm ready for Kafka now. (Also I just realized after I posted this, I might not have hit everything you wanted in that request, but fuck it, it's 2 in the morning, forgive me)

You never asked for anything.

You wanted many things, but you never asked and that was one of the things Kafka loved about you. Even despite his begging and his pleading for you to tell him what you were thinking, for you to let him spoil you rotten, he appreciated that you were always being considerate of him, not wanting to take up his time or his money.

Growing up with you, he'd learned to watch the path of your gaze or to follow the trail of your fingers, and see where it lingered in the shop windows and the store shelves just a second longer. And then you'd end up with a random gift on a random Tuesday just because he knew you wanted that headband or that new toy but would never tell anyone. He didn't need to wait for a special occasion to treat his little sister, everyday was a special day to him because he loved you.

It was that heart of his, that desire to protect the happiness of others and that determination to follow through on that desire, that made you confident that one day he'd be a Defense Force officer, even if eventually he had stopped believing he'd be one himself.

You always knew he was destined for great things and you didn't want to hold your big brother back so you buried yourself in your schoolwork. You wanted to find a means of supporting yourself and you wanted to be confident enough to reassure him that you'd be okay without him. But you wouldn't. You missed him terribly all the time. Missed him ruffling your hair, nudging your side, grinning widely, making stupid jokes, being stupidly optimistic all the time. But this was something he needed to do without you, and when he was ready to try again, to reach for his future, you wanted him to have both hands free.

Even when he'd confessed to you that he was Kaiju number 8, you encouraged him to keep pursuing his dream of being in the Defense Force. When you got the news that he had made it, you threw him the biggest party. You'd been his biggest supporter for so long, how could you not?

And then you didn't see him for awhile. He did try to visit you frequently, but you knew he would have to fight to keep his place in the Defense Force, beside all the other impressive officers, so you'd make up excuses to be busy so that he'd focus on his training instead of you. He must've known what you were doing, because he still found time to mail you gifts and letters to thank you for your support. But he did as you wanted, he focused on getting stronger, on being better, on being someone you could be proud of.

Then, one day, your college got attacked. Of course the Defense Force got called in, but they were so busy focused on the rampaging Honju; no one had time for a small Yoju that had wandered away from the stampeding hoard and cornered your best friends in a deserted part of the school campus. You were supposed to be with them, but you thought you'd pick up some coffees for everyone on the way over, a little pick-me-up to help with another late night study session. When you saw the Yoju chasing them across the schoolyard, you dropped your tray of drinks. Before they even hit the ground, you had your phone out, calling your brother.

"Kafka. I... I need you. I'm at school. My friends... my friends are under attack, please hurry. Please come quick. I need you."

You never asked for anything.

But all this time you'd spent holding back from running into your brother's arms, crying to him when you'd gotten a slightly lower grade than normal, or bitching about the sheer amount of projects you had due in one session, all this time you'd spent depriving yourself of a normal relationship with the only family you had, your friends were there for you instead. Cheering you on, through every test, every speech, every assignment, cheering you on the way you missed him cheering you on. You needed them.

And right now, they needed you too. You weren't strong enough to save them, but you could be strong enough to suck up your pride and ask your brother for help for once.

When he arrived in a few minutes flat, ready to do anything and everything you asked, you almost cried.

Suddenly memories came flooding back to you. Kafka catching you falling out of a tree when you'd ignored his warning not to climb too high and you'd slipped off a weak branch. He hadn't even scolded you; he knew you were already frustrated enough at yourself. He just bought you ice cream and smiled at you, telling you he was glad you were okay. Then there was that time Kafka chased off the neighborhood bully when he made fun of your pigtails; even though Kafka reassured you that you looked adorable with pigtails, he still spent all night learning how to braid your hair because you insisted you'd never wear pigtails ever again. He was always saving you, and here he was again- your hero.

It didn't matter that he was in a form you didn't recognize. You knew it was him. You'd know his heart anywhere. And even with fangs, his smile still comforted you, let you know everything would be okay.

He made quick work of the Yoju that was pursuing your friends and you were finally able to exhale the air that had been trapped in your lungs. He even carried them to the doors of the school infirmary for you when they'd passed out from the shock.

When you were sure your friends would be okay, you took Kafka to a secluded area behind the school where no one would be watching. Before he could even fully transform back into himself, you had already jumped into his arms. You hugged him with the force of a thousand hugs to make up for all the times you'd wanted to find refuge in his arms, but instead pushed him away, pushed him to work.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He ruffled your hair as he held you close. You always loved him ruffling your hair. You used to scold him for messing your hair up, but secretly, you always wanted him to do it again.

Suddenly, being in his arms again, you didn't care about his "destiny," or whatever great future you had envisioned for him. You just wanted your brother back, and for now, you had him. You could be as weak and as worried as you wanted, and he'd be there for you. He'd hold you until you stopped shaking, and then hold you a little longer just for good measure. Just because he missed you and he liked holding you.

You finally looked up at him, tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. "Do you think it's okay... if I ask you for more? If I rely on you more? Can I... can I need you again?"

He smiled that same smile he always did, his wide grin overflowing with love for you. "You can always count on me. Ask anything you want of me. Need me as much as you like for as long as you like. I promise, I'll be there for you."

He was always saving you.

But maybe, finally, it was okay to let yourself be saved.

#kaiju no. 8 #anime #fluff #kafka hibino #kafka #oneshot #siblings #han's library

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ninadove · 3 months ago

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Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 24th

I hadn't the heart to write last night; that terrible record of Jonathan's upset me so. Poor dear! How he must have suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if there is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and then write all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it all? I suppose I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject to him.... And yet that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain of him.... Poor fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and sent his mind back on some train of thought.... He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding-day he said: "Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, mad or sane." There seems to be through it all some thread of continuity.... That fearful Count was coming to London.... If it should be, and he came to London, with his teeming millions.... There may be a solemn duty; and if it come we must not shrink from it.... I shall be prepared. I shall get my typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if required. And if it be wanted; then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him and never let him be troubled or worried with it at all. If ever Jonathan quite gets over the nervousness he may want to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out things, and see how I may comfort him.

Can we talk about how cool Mina is for a second? Her first reaction upon finding out is disbelief, of course, but she turns around so quickly so she can A. support Jonathan and B. potentially save the world. She knows her skills are valuable and she immediately puts them to good use. It’s not hard to see why Jonathan fell in love with her!

It also means that everything we’ve been reading so far is courtesy of her work, by the way. Which immediately prompts two thoughts:

She apparently wasn’t jealous at all upon reading the Three Weed-Smoking Girlfriends bit Jonathan was so worried about, otherwise she would have edited it out;

She had to transcribe Lucy’s journal and her own letters… She had to add the “unopened by her” mention herself…

Everybody say thank you Mina!

And now for the bit where I genuinely shed a tear:

I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy Westenra's death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming, I am empowered to read her letters and papers, for I am deeply concerned about certain matters vitally important. In them I find some letters from you, which show how great friends you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam Mina, by that love, I implore you, help me. It is for others' good that I ask—to redress great wrong, and to lift much and terrible troubles—that may be more great than you can know. May it be that I see you? You can trust me. I am friend of Dr. John Seward and of Lord Godalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I must keep it private for the present from all. I should come to Exeter to see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, and where and when. I implore your pardon, madam. I have read your letters to poor Lucy, and know how good you are and how your husband suffer; so I pray you, if it may be, enlighten him not, lest it may harm. Again your pardon, and forgive me.

I’ve said it before, but there are some similarities in the way Dracula and Van Helsing talk. Well, there are some in the way they write too!

You may remember this little bit from May 3rd:

"My Friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

Your friend,

DRACULA.

The letter opened and closed on a fake declaration of friendship, foreshadowing Jonathan’s imprisonment.

Van Helsing does something very similar here, but A. with desperate apologies and B. recognising his status as someone who is very much not Mina’s friend (yet?). So what does it mean?

It means he is breaking down

We saw him run himself ragged to save Lucy and fail. We’ve seen him fall from witty and pretentious banter (with Seward) to hysterical sobbing and laughing (also with Seward) in the span of a few weeks. We’ve seen him hide the truth while also giving out clues, we’ve seen him break down because he knows, and doesn’t want to burden anyone else with this knowledge, but realistically can’t bear the weight on his own.

So when he reads Mina’s letters — the ones Lucy never got to open — he has no choice but to reach out. Mina is not a doctor like Seward, she’s not a Strong Young Blood Donor like the suitors, she’s just a young woman who is also struggling and also loved Lucy, and this fifty-something genius finds a sense of kinship in her, and immediately decides she is the only person who can help him.

But that means she must know, and therefore be trapped in the same Hell he is. Hence the structure of the letter. I LOVE THIS BOOK

< Prev 🦇 Next >

#This book as so many smart and resilent characters and you know I love smart and resilient characters!#dracula #dracula daily #nina reads dracula #mina harker #abraham van helsing #count dracula #jonathan harker #jonmina

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arabellavernierwrites · 2 years ago

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overwhelmed. s.r.

summary: when you had an overwhelming day at work, spencer is there to pick up the pieces.

word count: 612

warnings: mentions of stress, slight ranting

a/n: hello everyone ! thank you so much for being so incredible to me these past few stories. i really appreciate how supportive you all are. thank you for taking the time to read my work, it means so much to me. today i wanted to make something a little shorter, the idea came to me and i wanted you all to be able to read it. please, if you have any requests at all, send them in! i really only do reader works (meaning i don’t do ships) and don’t often write smut, but am open to the idea. thank you all so much, again! have an amazing wonderful day, love you all!

the world seemed to spin around you. as if someone had locked you in a washing machine and allowed you to tumble.

you had your days when the stress of work was overwhelming. too much paperwork, too many emails, too many people needing assistance with something or another. today was one of those days where you were simply pushed too far, and your mind was swimming.

you jostled your apartment door open, greeted by your boyfriend, spencer, leaning over the sink, washing dishes.

“hello, how was your day?” he asked as you tossed your bag, coat, and shoes on the floor. spencer looked up, a playful kindness in his eyes.

your lower lip began to quiver, his face fell, “sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

he quickly swept you up in his arms, wrapping you in his sweater, your face pressed to his chest.

you took a deep breath and tangled your hands together behind his back, “everybody needed something at work, paperwork, emails, coffee. and then my shoe broke when i was walking out of the building. my car started making that clicking sound again on the way home, my key wouldn’t fit in the door, and that stupid dishwasher is still broken-”

“breathe,” he whispered, his fingers twisting through your hair.

“i know, i’m sorry,” you quickly sucked in your breath.

“there’s nothing to be sorry for,” you could hear the frown on his face.

you had a problem with saying sorry, it worsened when you were stressed. the feeling of stepping on everyone’s toes, being a bother, occupying too much space or time. it was overwhelming on an average day, but when mixed with anxiety, it was suffocating.

“it’s just,” you stepped back, spencer’s arms remaining around your waist, “stress”.

“stress is a very powerful thing,” he spoke sincerely.

“i know,” you shook your head.

you tried to turn around, hide from the issue in your bedroom as you changed your clothes, hoping the conversation would die out.

spencer was faster, pulling you back towards him, “hey, what did we talk about?”

“not pushing you away when i need help,” you stated, quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“and what are you doing?” his eyebrows raised.

“pushing you away when i need help,” you tried to hide the twinge of shame in your voice, knowing you promised spencer to not go full lockdown mode whenever you weren’t feeling well.

“i’m sorry work was hard on you today. we’ll figure out your shoe before work, if your car is still making the clicking sound i’ll take it to the shop when i get home, and no need to worry about the dishwasher. i called the repairman and he’s coming over tomorrow to handle it,” he reached up and placed a hand on either side of your face, “is there anything you need? is there anything i can do to help you?”

you held back tears of gratitude for him. his big brown eyes were sweet. they were kind and gentle, filled with pure love and admiration. but you could see worry danced through his irises as he waited for a solution.

“i think a shower would be nice,” you thought for a moment, “and then we can have a cup of tea and start that new show”.

spencer couldn’t hold his smile in anymore, “which tea would you like?”

“cinnamon,” you whispered.

“we’ll go take a shower and i’ll make some while you put your pajamas on, okay?” he whispered back.

you nodded, raising your hand to hold it on the back of his, “thank you”.

“anything for you,” he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips, “come on”.

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silvertongueddevil · 3 months ago

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UPDATE

firstly, I’d like to thank EVERYONE who was here for me. everyone who’d messaged me to check up on me, everyone who’d sent an Ask of concern. I love you all and your overwhelming support means the world to me. I never thought I’d have such support and I wholeheartedly believe you all are crazy for caring so much. but I am eternally grateful.

secondly, this girl I’ve been in my feels for. a former mutual here. her and I had a week of attempting to rekindle, and talk things through. and we both came to our conclusions, independently, that it’s better to end it. we had a rough, long morning phone call, in which we shared feelings, expressed regret and remorse, apologized to one another for different aspects. overall, as far as tough conversations go, it was excellent. her and I harbor zero ill will towards one another. I told her I deleted her number and I asked her to block me on here. and she did.

although it’s not a “break up”, because we were never together, it sure as Hell feels and hurts like one. that being said, I believe i’m going to take some time for myself to just….feel better. I’m probably not going to be gone for long, but I do need to just…mull things over with myself.

again, thank you to everybody who reached out and expressed their condolences and listened to me ramble and encouraged me to (more or less) stick up for myself. thank you and I truly do love you all. i’m 15 followers away from 1,400!! that’s wild to me. thank you. I love all 1,3-something of you.

we will be back to our regular, horny content soon. there should be a long audio of mine coming from Sounds Of Pleasure soon, so keep an eye out for that <3

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da-rulah · 11 months ago

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No idea if you deleted this one or maybe it just didn't give you any inspiration, but I just wanna say I'm addicted to your stories, the way you write fiction gives me literal goosebumps and OMG 😭😭... Ugh, If you ever get some time could you write some pathetic whimpering cardi C of him finding out his partner only using him for his position in the church then being comforted by the reader? Nswf if you want 🥰. Love you sm! Hope you have a great day/evening/night luv :)

Hey lovely! Thank you so so much, that's so sweet of you to say 🥹 Strangely, I don't remember getting an ask with this request in? I'm so sorry if I skimmed over it at some point, but I'd be happy to do this one for you!

I've made Copia's sexuality fluid, since I don't know your gender and would like to keep the reader neutral for all to enjoy!

He's also a total bumbling idiot and this has got to be one of the sillier things I've written him doing.

SFW, GN!Reader

The Cardinal was so lost in his sorrow, so immersed in his own world of sadness that he wouldn't notice right now if a meteor hit him. He sat in his quarters, his head in his hands, snivelling and sniffling into the leather with whimpers that to his own ears sounded incredibly pathetic. But he just couldn't help himself...

The knife of betrayal was still lodged firmly in his back, and the pain was radiating, burning him right through to his chest.

Lost in his despair as he was, he didn't notice the click of his front door opening, nor your humming as you wondered in with arms full of clean laundry to bring back to him.

"Hey C, just me... I got your shirts steamed, and that curry stain was a nightmare to get out of your cassock, but hey, you know I work miracles down in that laundry room..." you wittered on, not even looking around the room as you barged in, dumping the pile of fresh clothing on the end of his bed as you usually would as part of your duties.

Having been friends with the Cardinal for well over a decade, marching into his quarters unannounced wasn't rare for you and had only resulted in maybe four occasions where you'd seen more than you bargained for...

At the sound of your voice, he finally looked up, snapping his head in your direction to be met with your back, dropping the clothes on his bed.

"G-grazie..." he stuttered, wiping quickly at the tears on his cheeks and straightening himself up. He didn't want you to see him like this. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was weak. But when you turned to look at him, you knew immediately he was no okay.

"C?" You rushed to his side, immediately settling on your knees in front of him, taking his hands in yours. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine," he tried to style it out, unaware of the black streaks from his eye make up down his face. You reached up and swiped his cheek with your thumb, showing the smudge that coated your finger.

"Yeah, you look it..." you deadpanned, a hint of dry sarcasm, "Come on, you can't hide it from me if you tried. What happened?"

Copia squeezed your hands in his, chewing the inside of his cheek until he found the courage to say what had him so upset.

"She was lying to me... She got promoted in the clergy and, eh... dumped me... She said she only was using me..." The pitch of his voice rose with that last part, more tears threatening to spill from his waterline. Anger boiled inside you; you'd never liked that bitch, there was always something sleazy about her...

Not that you'd have ever said that to him. He already accused you once of hating everybody he dated a few years back. The fact that it was true and caused by some harboured and unspoken feelings for him was beside the point... Copia was your friend, you best friend, and you had to support him.

But now? You wanted the wring the neck of that viper.

"Oh, honey... I'm sorry," you settled for; Copia needed comfort right now, not an 'I told you so' or 'I knew it'. You got up from the floor, hands still holding his, and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and tugging him closer.

"I have such terrible luck... Why must I fall for the wrong people?" he whined, submerged in his own pity party.

"You can't blame yourself, C, she was clearly manipulating you... It's got nothing to do with you and who you fall for," you told him genuinely. It wasn't his fault he was too kind, to open and left hopelessly craving affection thanks to a childhood devoid of it.

"Sí, it does... First there was Sister Daphne when I was a teenager; she turned out to be so cruel. Then there was Brother Alfonso; he was a bad person. Then Sister Paula, but she never liked me back anyway... Then you, but you only wanted my friendship, and then-"

"What...?" you interrupted his woeful ramblings, the mention of 'you' like a sucker punch to the throat.

"Sí, you remember, I told you years ago I had feelings for you but you said you wanted to stay friends!"

"N-no, you didn't..." you told him, no recollection of the memory at all. You'd certainly remember that... and that absolutely would NOT have been your response.

"Sí, Sí, we were walking through the gardens looking at the moonflowers... you said you liked them because they only bloom at night. I told you I had feelings for you and you said that was lovely of me, but we were better as good friends, and then I remember looking up at the moon and back but you were gone, and then one of my rats crawled up my arm and whispered to me that I-"

He stopped dead, his rambling ceasing immediately as his eyes widened and his cheeks fell, realisation hitting him.

"Oh, no..."

"Y-you... based years of you not talking to me about this... off of a dream?!"

"Well, I... No, but it was so real..."

"Real enough that your rat started whispering things to you?! Satanas, Copia!" you scolded, shoving him away from you with a few playful slaps to his arm. "You are unbelievable!"

"I-I'm sorry! I really thought... I forgot about the rat, I just, um... cazzo," he cursed himself, feeling a bigger fool than he ever had. He'd spent too much energy focussing on the part of that dream that felt real, the one where you kindly rejected him and asked him to move on, to be friends. He so wholeheartedly believed that was a memory...

"How long?" you asked him...

"Uh, for a few years..."

"Copia..."

"Okay, fine, maybe 8 years," he admitted, hiding his face in his hands again. He felt so humiliated.

"And do you still...?" A heavy silence settled between you. Copia refused to remove his head from his hands. You pulled on his wrists, trying desperately to get him to look at you.

"Per favore, I feel foolish!" he whined, muffled by his hands.

"Copia, stop it! Do you still have feelings for me or not?" you asked him, desperate for a response. Finally, he dropped his hands and briefly looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"Sí... Mi dispiace, I don't want to ruin this friendship, but I-" You interrupted him again, planting both palms firmly on either side of this bumbling idiot's head and forcing him towards you so you could plant a bruising kiss to his lips, thus, finally shutting him up.

Copia's hands flew up in the air while he searched for balance, pulled off-centre by your ferocious kiss. The sight to anybody else would have been comical; his cheeks smushed under your hands, his eyes wide and limbs flailing as he registered exactly what you were doing.

When it sank in, he relaxed, his gloved hands gripping your wrists and body leaning into you while his lips softened against yours. From ferocious and desperate, to calmly passionate, you melted into one another.

"I am a fool," he chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours when he came up for air.

"Big fool," you told him. "And just so you don't misunderstand... I feel the same for you, C," you confessed.

"Sí, sí, I, eh... I worked that out," he laughed bashfully. "OW!"

He shot back, rubbing his cheek and looking at you with confusion and a slightly pinker cheek that the other. "Did you just pinch me...?"

"Just checking," you smiled cheekily, the both of you sharing a stupid smile and leaning into each other for another loving and long-overdue kiss.

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jamdoughnutmagician · 5 months ago

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Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - Part 7 (Final Part)

Eddie Munson x Reader

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Word Count:2,982

Thank you to everyone who stayed with me and supported me when I wrote this, it means the absolute world! 🥺💕

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Nancy quickly dipped into your office in search of revenge. If the big, important, higher-up’s liked your ideas more than hers, then she was just going to have to do something about that. Chancing a glance around her, to see if anyone was watching her, she dips her hand into your desk drawers. There she finds the envelope full of photos of Corroded Coffin’s front cover photoshoot, as well as all of the other pictures you had taken for Star Magazine’s big re-brand.

Nancy stuffs the envelope into her suit jacket’s pocket before anyone was any the wiser.

If Star Magazine liked your ideas so much, then she was absolutely sure that the editors of Diamond Magazine would be all too interested in your brand new ideas too.

Eddie walked through your work’s building in search of you, but as he rounded the corner he found Nancy sitting in your office chair.

“Hey Freak -I mean, Eddie.” she coughs as she quickly corrects herself, as she lets slip the teasing name she used to call him in high school.

Hey, Nance. Have you seen Y/n around?” Eddie asks. Even now, despite being all grown up and a good 10 years free of high school pettiness, there was something about being around Nancy Wheeler that just brought back all his teenage insecurities. Even just being alone with her right now felt like she was a cat and Eddie was just the mouse that she was playing with before sinking her vicious claws into him.

“Are you here about your photoshoot pictures?” Nancy asks as she slinks up from her seat, stalking towards Eddie. “Because, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Y/n decided to go in a completely different direction, she said that the grungey metal look was too much for Star Magazine,” she begins to explain with a sickly sweet, yet completely insincere tone of voice. “She said that you and the rest of Corroded Coffin’s image would only ruin her magazine’s campaign. Sorry you had to find out like this.” Nancy sneers with a disingenuous apology.

“Oh,” Eddie huffs softly. You had seemed so genuinely excited when you were organising the photoshoot and putting everything together, so what had changed between then and now?

Was it the kiss? Eddie knew he may have overstepped the mark a little but he’d hate to think that he’d caused you so much upset and tainted your grand ideas to shake some life into the magazine.

“If it’s any consolation, I really like your pictures, Eddie. I thought you looked really cool.” Nancy purrs stroking her manicured hand up Eddie’s arm.

“You know what, it was probably a bad idea to come here, I’ll just show myself out.” Eddie scoffs as he turns on his heels and heads for the door.

“Hey Eddie, while you're here, would you mind signing a general release form, you never know, we might be able to use your pictures in a catalogue or something.” Nancy snickers.

Happily you walk through the streets on your way to Eddie’s apartment, ready to tell him the good news. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he finds out that Corroded Coffin were going to be the first band to be on the front cover of the new and improved Star Magazine.

You knock your knuckles against his door in a cheery little rhythm and as the door swung open you were greeted, not with the familiar dark, bouncy curls and boyish smile of your best friend, but rather the glossy strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes of his fiancée, Chrissy.

“Hi.” you smile brightly at Chrissy.

“Hey, it’s Y/n, right?” she says, remembering your name from when you had briefly bumped into her a few weeks back.

“Yup that’s me! I was actually looking for Eddie, I just wanted to pass on some really great news about his Corroded Coffin photoshoot. Everybody loved the pictures!” you smile. You had been so excited to share the news with him on your way to his apartment, but opening the door to Chrissy had taken the shine off of your surprise.

“Well I’ll be sure to tell him when he gets back, he’s just out getting the final fittings done for his tux.”

Of course. Eddie was getting married to Chrissy. He wasn’t that young, carefree, boy that you had loved anymore. He was a grown man with his own life, and soon to be wife. It’s not that you didn’t wish Eddie every happiness, you wanted the best for him, he was your best friend after all. Who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? So why did the idea of him getting married to Chrissy sting like a punch to the gut?

You force a smile to your face as best you can, to cover the confusing swirl of emotions you feel inside.

“Men, right?” Chrissy scoffs with a laugh “Everything’s last minute with him! I mean come on, we’re getting married tomorrow for crying out loud! It’s gonna be a cute little back yard wedding in his uncle’s old house.”

She looked so happy, and suddenly you were all too aware that you were the one who was coming between the happy couple. The heavy tugging at your heart had you desperately wishing that things could be different. Maybe in another lifetime it could have been you walking down that aisle in a pristine white dress, with Eddie standing there in his nicest black suit, waiting to make that commitment to each other for the rest of your lives.

But now, standing here and seeing the blushing smile on Chrissy’s face, you know that whilst Eddie may have been your best friend, he wasn’t your fiancé.

“Congratulations to the both of you.” you offer Chrissy a friendly smile as you wish her the best on her big day.

“Thank you so much! I’ll let Eddie know that you stopped by!”

And as you bid each other goodbye and the door closes you’re left with the hollow feeling of being second best settling its place in your heart.

Pacing back and forth in your office space, you try your best to calm your nerves as you prepare to deliver your big new magazine rebranding to your bosses. Everything had been planned right down to the last detail, all you had to do now was go out there and give it your all.

You’re brought out of your focus by Michael knocking at your door.

“Are you ready to do this?” You beam brightly at him.

He huffs a shallow breath and shakes his head at you, the wrinkles in his creasing as his eyebrows draw together.

“I’m sorry, but the meeting’s cancelled.” he sighs.

“What? You mean like they moved it for tomorrow?” you ask, surely they couldn’t have just pulled the plug just like that?

“No, the meeting’s cancelled. It’s over.” Michale says solemnly. “Nancy..she just took all of your pictures, all of your designs and ideas to Diamond Magazine. She’s their new editor and chief. Everything that you worked on showed up online last night and now they’re making the rounds in advertisements everywhere.”

“But..She-She can’t do that! Those are my photos! That’s my idea that she’s stealing!” you fume.

All this time Nancy was pretending to be your friend when really she was only waiting for her opportunity to strike. To steal the success and limelight from right under your nose and claim all the glory for herself.

It seems as though Nancy Wheeler hadn’t changed one little bit. She was still the cruel and vicious girl she had always been.

“She’s destroying us from the inside out.” Michael said as he handed you a piece of paper with all the I’s dotted and all of the T’s crossed that said that Nancy Wheeler was well within her legal right to sell the pictures to Diamond Magazine.

“She had him sign a general release form, they’re not our pictures anymore. I’m sorry Y/N, there’s nothing we can do.”

There’s no way you were going to stand for this. You were no longer going to let Nancy Wheeler walk all over you.

You march your way over to her office and immediately confront her about everything that she was doing.

“Nancy! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Those were my pictures!” you shout.

“Oh look who it is, it’s Michael’s little lap-dog.”

“What are you talking about?” you shake your head at her.

“Don’t play coy with me, alright. I wasn’t about to let you get the biggest scoop of the year and get all the praise for it.” she smiles, although her smile was nothing short of pure evil. “I was just going to let you do all the hard work for me, if I remember correctly, you used to be pretty good at that, didn’t you?”

Your mind was spinning more and more with every word Nancy was spewing.

“And now you’re looking at Diamond Magazine brand new editor-in-chief, and you’re still stuck at this old place, recycling yesterday’s garbage articles.”

“But what about Eddie? What did you say to him to get him to sign away these photos?” you ask, shoving the release form into Nancy’s hands.

“Oh it was easy, I just told him that you were going in a different direction, which you are now.” she smirks “And I may have told him some other things too, but I just can’t remember.”

And on that sour note, Nancy waltzes away from you, taking everything you had worked so hard on with her to Diamond Magazine.

Stepping out into the streets, outside your work’s building you quickly realise that there’s very little left for you anymore.

But the one thing you did have was a best friend. And he was about to get married.

Whistling for a cab, you shout the address to him and plead with the driver to get you there as quickly as possible.

You throw a handful of cash at the taxi driver, thanking him with a shout as you race towards Eddie’s uncle’s place.

Everything was already so nicely decorated with streams of white ribbons and bouquets of pale pink roses decorating every inch of the garden.

You slip your way into the house, you needed to see Eddie, to talk to him, before it was too late. Carefully sneaking your way upstairs and past the slightly ajar bedroom door where a gaggle of bridesmaids are fussing around Chrissy, making sure every final detail of her dress looks perfect.

And then as you make your way across the hall you spot him. His long dark curls neatly bundled in a little bun at the nape of his neck, his perfectly tailored black suit fits him like a dream but his nervous fingers are struggling with tying his bowtie.

“You need a little help with that?” you ask softly, nodding towards where his bowtie hangs around his neck. Closing the bedroom door behind you, you make your way over to him, as you begin to tie a knot into his bowtie.

“Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I need to talk to you, Eddie.” you sigh before continuing. “I don’t know what Nancy said to you about me, or what I said but I want you to know I never said anything of the sort.”

Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets awkwardly, before looking at you.

“It doesn’t really matter what Nancy said to me, I stopped trusting her when she stole my guitar pick necklace in the fourth grade.”

You can’t help the smile that forces its way to your face, he always had a way of making you laugh, no matter what.

“I want you to know that I’m not the awful person that I know that I’ve been. I believe, or at least like to believe that if you knew that, deep down in your heart, then you wouldn’t be marrying somebody else right now. Unless that somebody was me.”

There it was. You’d laid your feeling bare and open on a platter for him. You had given the person you really loved the power to take your heart and run with it.

“Y/n, I can’t lie to you, these past few weeks I’ve felt things with you that I haven’t felt since I was a kid, but the thing is, you can’t just turn back time. You moved on, I moved on, we went down different paths, we’re different people now. I chose Chrissy.”

You nod, desperately fighting against the tears welling in your eyes. You’d given him your heart to hold, and foolishly believed he would handle it with care. He may have been your best friend, but to pin all your hopes on one throwaway kiss was a wish too far.

“Chrissy’s whole family is down there, okay? And I like her, I care about her alot and hope she feels the same way.” Eddie says but all his words do just break your heart even more. “You don’t always get the big dreamhouse and the happily ever after. The best we can hope for is something close to normal.”

He steps towards you, ready to wrap you in a hug when he sees how upset you are.

“Please, you know I can’t stand to see you cry, Y/n.”

You hold up your hand, before he can get any closer to you. Before he can break your heart anymore.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” you snivel, drying your eyes on the sleeve of your shirt.

Eddie pulls back away from you for a moment, turning his back to reach into the closet. As he pulls out of the closet, there in his arms is the princess castle dollhouse he’d built for you all those years ago. Still in perfect condition, not a single detail out of place.

“I guess I was keeping incase I ever had daughters of my own, but I think you should have it. I mean it was yours to begin with in the first place.” Eddie says softly.

“Thank you, Eddie. You’ve always been so kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it.” you mumble as the tears still stream down your cheeks. as you take the dollhouse from his hands. “Now, go or you’re going to be late for your wedding. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, I’m just crying because I’m so happy for you. I want you to be happy, in everything you do. I love you, Eddie. You're my best friend.”

“Y/n, I’ve always loved you, I hope you know that.”

And with a final solemn nod of your head, you leave Eddie. You leave behind everything you ever held dear to your heart.

Walking out of the house you find a secluded spot on the front porch, away from the congregation of wedding goers, with the gentle sounds of the wedding’s music floating from the back garden. You sit down, placing the cardboard princess castle down, your eyes lingering on every little detail. From the carefully painted princess and brave knight miniature figurines made to look like you and Eddie, to the delicately painted floral vines twisting up the cardboard towers.

Closing your eyes you wish how badly you wished that you could take it all back. To go back to the giddy innocence of being thirteen.

The cool evening’s breeze blows through your hair and blows sparkling particles of glitter from the princess dollhouse all over you.

A rush of energy sparkles through your body and when you open your eyes, you’re back. Back in that closet at your thirteenth birthday party. Back to your old thirteen year-old self once more.

The closet door pulls open and there stands your best friend, with a kind smile and open arms waiting for you.

“Eddie!!” you cry excitedly as you fall into the safe hold of his arms, and lay a sweet, but long awaited kiss to his soft pink lips.

As you pull away from his lips he charms you with that boyish smirk you’ve come to love so much.

“I thought it was your birthday, not mine?” he jokes softly, before leaning back in to kiss your lips once more like he always longed to do.

As you take Eddie by the hand you pass Nancy on your way out of your basement.

Her spangly clothes and obnoxiously jangly bracelets clink together as she walks.

“You know what, Fancy Nancy? You are rude, mean, sloppy and frizzy and I don’t like you at all.” and with that you push past her as you run off hand-in-hand with your best friend.

It felt good to be back in your own skin, and for once and all be able to tell Nancy exactly how you felt towards her.

Growing old together with Eddie the way you had always dreamed of was the best part of growing up. Not the glamorous lifestyle, and popularity, but being with the person you loved the most.

Your relationship with Eddie would go from strength to strength. Starting off as nothing more than innocent friendship between children, and growing to childhood crushes on your best friend, to him being your boyfriend and sweeping you off your feet on prom night.

And now to the man who stood beside underneath the floral archway, dressed in his nicest black tuxedo.

As he pulled back your flowing white veil, you finally understood what being an adult was all about.

Being so completely loved by Eddie like this was something that in your youth would have seemed like a silly teenage dream, but here in this moment, you wouldn’t give this life up for anything.

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson

@ali-r3n @seatnights @aphrogeneias

@eddiesxangel @onegirlmanytales @munsonology

@xxbimbobunnyxx @optimisticallygarbage @nailbatanddungeon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader fluff #eddie munson x reader series

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hmaper · 6 months ago

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Postingar a. long draft that i think i’ll regretf

Hello everybody, I just want to take a moment to express my feelings for you all and apologize, but especially to my mother. Mom, you deserve a lot better than me. I’ve been nothing but destructive and inconsistent with my actions. But through all of that, you’ve still decided to support me and care for me. I never understood why that was… But you have been the only person i’ve had a solid opinion on throughout our time together. When we met I was a tad upset and confused, but I quickly recognized that you could help me find peace. I recognized that I wanted nothing more than to be safe in your arms. You were the only person I never wanted to make upset, and yet I keep messing up time and time again. I am officially making a genuine attempt to break the cycle. I’ve half-assed that before but I think going at my own pace this time around makes me more comfortable. I will try not to be mean to brother anymore. He deserves to feel safe.

And brother, you’ve probably received the worst treatment from me. I think. Ever since you popped into this world i’ve seen you as the enemy, an obstacle for affection. I hated dad at first, but when he began to display favoritism it shook something inside me and I felt like I needed to be the only one. But you were just a little hamster. Not just any little hamster, my little brother. My beloved little brother. I have switched the blame onto dad, me, you, and sometimes outsiders (Hajime Hinata) i’ve lumped into this for no apparent reason. I hope you can forgive me for my constant switching. I hope we can get along. I suppose i’m just asking for a fresh start..

Mukuro: You’re one of my favorite people ever. I’d like to talk to you more. I’m not sure if you’d be really into getting to know a hamster though.. But a boy can dream! No. I’m still mad at you for the betrayal. I’m so hurt. Damaged. I’ll get you. Sleep with one eye open. The silly string war is not over. Do you think you will reign supreme? You will LOSE. Hehe giggles the blooming onions are coming and they will not rest they will not rest no no no they won’t back down watch out get down

Hajime Hinata: You were not really a part of my life. But I tried to force you in last minute after panicking over the sudden loss. Your advice is always welcome, I do enjoy talking to you sometimes. On occasion. I fear i’m saying this too much, but you didn’t deserve my treatment either. I took one look at you and claimed I hated you. Why did I do that? I’m an asshole. Those insults lacked confidence. I had no idea what I was talking about or why I was even pestering you to begin with. Going out of my way to make separate posts to ridicule you was just a pathetic display. You’re still kind and forgiving toward me.. So thank you.

Dear other brother, AKA Kokichi Oma: Setting your dorm on fire was not a good idea. I was acting on impulse. I cannot justify my actions as I do not have a reliable excuse for what I did. I set your dorm on fire. Sorry. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I’m not worthy of your forgiveness. But.. Pretty please? It would make me so happy.

Chiaki: Meow meow meow meow mow miw moowwwwwwwwwww meow meow meow purr hiss HISSTTTTHHHHHHHHHH meow meow wemeoeowowmsmsooeleeleoelwowowwowmeeoeowowmiw miw enron emeowiemwowowowowowowowowowwmeoeoeowowww miw kitty cat kitty cat zz zzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzuu 🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

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bueckersstrap · 5 months ago

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MUTUAL APPRECIATION POST

🎀

disclaimer : to the mutuals i don’t mention i love u all sososo much and all my followers i love u so much thank u for like 700 i think we’ve grown sm in like 2 months !!! i love all my moots and i appreciate every single one of you thank you for always supporting me 🤞🏽 - xoxo cel

@iminlovewithpaigebueckers alora!! my sweet precious peoples princess! i love this girl to pieces and id truly be so lost without her that’s my girl frfr. she’s always there for me and even though i was a tad bit scared of her when i didn’t know her (don’t gas urself up too much bro😒) she’s genuinely the epitome of positivity and love and light. she graces everybody with her presence and i could never have anything bad to say about this women.

@thecameronshow my favourite trollop🤗🤗 i love this girl so much she’s so fucking funny and i remember seeing you on somebody’s page and i thought u were so sweet! you added me to ur bio and now we’ve been locked for so long 😘 thank you for always giving me advice and your insight always means the world even tho were usually in the same situation ..

@goldfades my beautiful sweet lovely wife. i am so inlove with this girl i can’t even imagine tumblr without her. she’s the epitome of beauty and love and even tho she hates on me 😢😢😢 i still love her to pieces. she sticks with me through everything and is one of the most understanding people i know. she’s always there for me and i always support her in her sassy ass actions but it’s okay i love the attitude! i love this girl so much words don’t cut it but it’s okay im always shakespeare for my sunny

@aaliyg my fav grandma right here 😘 my fortnite master and literally one of the funniest people i know im not even kidding. i love our convos when we have the same opinions on things bc we are the funniest people ever! i love when u send in asks u make my days w them 😘

@lucespeaks tumblr it girl as id say😝 my fav controversial blog (it’s not u it’s the softies i swear)!! you’re the funniest person on here i swear and whenever we’re haters we are a great duo !!! i was so scared of u when i first followed u but the sweet angel luce agenda is spread between the masses !!! i love ur blog and ur always cracking the funniest jokes cuz we have the same brain im convinced 💆🏽‍♀️ anyways i love u to pieces friend (no allegations pls!)

@arlertwhore one of the best writers on this app i swear. i started following u for ur sneaky link series and there’s nothing but constant praise there from me!!! you’re so funny esp about the espys thing 😭😭😭 i’ll try and start up writing again just for u bae

@barbspeaks MY BARBBBBB😘😘😘 that’s my girl right there and were locked 🔐🤞🏽 !!!! you’re the sweetest girl ever and i always enjoy when we talk and u always have me laughing esppp about the catch a predator videos 😭😭 ur actually my bestie i love u sososo much

@clairosrealwife LIVVY!!!!! my bestie!!!! my fav 12 year old (i’m kidding 😭) whenever we talk it’s always about those stupid anons that get on our nerves but it’s okay bc we always have the same takes and bless u for that!!!! ily😘😘😘

@makethemhoesmad … first impressions were u TRAMUATIZING tumblr w papi ivan or ur other freaky ass ao3 stories. but ur so funny and i love when we talk 😘 mwah mwah

@lowgothree MY BAE JJ!!!! i literally love u so much ur the sweetest and i always enjoy when we talk cus ur sososo funny 😘 im so sorry i left u on delv that one time i swear it wasn’t on purpose baeski💔 ilysm xoxo

@fruitbasketball mina!!! i was soooo scared of u i cannot lie. i always saw ur recaps on my feed and i loveeddddd ur blog im honoured to b ur moot 😘 but you’re a sweetheart and i love ur basketball recaps and the knowledge you have is unmatched on this app ! ily

@wanderlusturous my bsf jojo!!!! i stole u off evs page and ur such a sweetheart to have as a moot!!! i love when u send in asks ur the best!!!!!! mwah ily

@latenighttalkinqwp jazzie baby omfg this was added bc i realized i didn’t tag u in the final draft . don’t shoot me babes! you’re literally so fucking funny whenever we interact i’m always laughing i love being ur moot😘

#bueckersstrap #cel talks #cel loves her moots

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din-miller · 1 year ago

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Heyoooo! I’m not sure if you take requests, or if this is where your supposed to ask, it’s my first time doing so :’)

BUT

If you do, I was wondering if you could maybe wright an angsty fic, could be platonic or romantic, idm, but after a mission the reader dies similar to how aunt may dies in Spider-Man. Like, everybody gets out alive after a mission, and they’re about to head back on the ship r somthin and then BOOM, the reader falls. They don’t know the are dying and everyone is panicking(or just one of TBB for bonus individual trauma) then after a few, they die. One minute TBB have it all, the next, their world shattered.

Ofc your free to change as much as you want up, and you really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, it’s just a prompt I’ve been thinking about. Personally its just been nagging me for a while and I love your writing, and would really love to see it done (we all love some heavy angst, no?)

Again, if you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine, just thought I could ask <333

Hello dear, sorry this took so long.

Full disclosure, I’ve never seen Spider-Man. I watched a few videos on YouTube. Both for the movie and the video game not knowing which death of Aunt May you had in mind. Thankfully you provided enough details in the request which helped me hugely!

Thank you for your love and support. It means the world to me ❤️

(Ps. You didn’t mention if you wanted the reader to have a specific pronoun so I’ve chosen to use she/her as the readers pronouns)

Go Peacefully, It’s Okay

Pairing: The Bad Batch + f!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: Character death, blood mentioned, female reader, fun sibling dynamics THEN hurt with not a drop of comfort to be found, platonic relationships, use of mando’a (translation at the end)

Sometimes everything you hold dear to your heart, can slip out of your fingertips without out a cause, without a warning, without an explanation

“Remind me when we get back to Ord Mantell, to tell Sid that being hunted by an unknown animal was not in the job description.” Tech grumbled, re-gaining his balance after tripping over a root hidden in the soil.

You laughed, dodging another tree branch as you raced past him, “I wasn’t aware Sid was handing out job descriptions.”

“It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t, we’d be broke if she did,” Hunter pointed out, “If you haven’t noticed, her missions are getting more dangerous lately.”

“Oh, come on, they’re not all bad,” You flinched when the creatures let out a loud roar, “See, even they’re agreeing with me.”

Your commlink beeped, Crosshair’s voice coming through the speaker, “Take the next left, you should be able to lose them in the tall grass.”

“Lose them?” Echo smirked, enjoying this more than he probably should as he jumped over a fallen log, dodging the sharp claws trying to shred his prosthetic leg into pieces, “The fun’s just getting started!”

“You can say that again!” Wrecker cheered, running beside you; Omega balanced on his shoulders, shooting her bow in hopes that it’ll slow the animal chasing them down.

“Has anyone found their weak spot yet?”

Of course nothing is ever simple with the Batch. The creature's skin ricochet any blaster fire and for the first time in history, Wrecker didn’t pack any explosives. Something he’s still evidently mad about as he complained very loudly: “No need for explosives, Tech said. It’s a peaceful planet, Tech said.”

“It was peaceful until you decided to awaken the den, Wrecker.” Tech pointed out, dodging another pounce from the creature behind him, “This plan isn’t working.”

“Crosshair, I thought you said we’d lose them in the tall grass, not attract more!” Echo growled, annoyed as his prosthetics creaked loudly, “You’ll be in charge of oiling my prosthetics when we get back.”

You let out a snort, because that'll be a sight to behold. The others laughed when all Crosshair replied with was a sneer. With a fond roll of your eyes, you opened your comm link, “I have an idea.”

“If past experiences have proven anything, those words have never been followed by anything good.” Typically Tech response.

“You got a better idea?” You asked, a tad judgemental, “Just trust me, okay. Hunter, grab Omega and run. All of you, out of the grass.”

“Copy,” Echo turned to brothers, “Race you to the ship, last one takes first watch tonight.”

Hunter’s helmet is focused on you and you know underneath it he’s giving you a pleading look to not do anything stupid. You just waved him away in response.

“I’ll be right behind you.” You promised and drew your blaster. He sighed and took off with Omega at his side.

As promised, you followed. Albeit a little further behind them as you shoot at the ground again and again, the blaster shot hot enough for the dry grass to catch on fire, forming a wall of flames that prevent the creatures from continuing their attack. As the fire builds and they begin to retreat, you let out a breath of relief. Then, with a huge grin, you threw your hands in the air, ”Victory!”

“Parjir!” Wrecker cheered, high-fiving the youngest Batch. The kid giggled and gave a cheer herself.

Hunter shook his head at them, but you can see the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. The smile disappeared as quickly as it came, your name falling from his lips: “Behind you!”

Before you could turn around, your body is slammed to the ground. A vicious snarl came from right behind your ear and you winced at the loudness of it. You twisted your body and grabbed the blaster off of your belt. In the distance the boys are calling your name and without sparing a second thought you started firing into the creature's stomach, taking no pleasure in the pained screams it let out.

You laid your head back against the ground and tried your best not to gag at the smell and warmth of the blood seeping into your clothes. A second barely passed before a pair of hands pushed the animal off of you, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” You answered, letting Tech help you up, “Thank you.”

“Next time please eliminate all threats before celebrating.”

“I’ll make sure to triple check my surroundings.” You promised, brushing off the dirt clinging to your pants.

“That would be suffice, thank you.” He said dryly and you chuckled in response, amused with his way of speech.

While Hunter started checking Omega over for any injuries, you pulled Wrecker toward you to do the same. The biggest clone willingly allowed you to poke and prod at various body parts and he doesn’t even complain when you checked a second time despite knowing that other than a bruise or two, he’s fine.

“Your turn,” Wrecker gestured for you to turn around, but before he could begin his check, Hunter called for everyone to grab their packs and start moving out. Wrecker clapped his hands together with a giant grin, “Finally! The heat is killing me! I guess I’ll check you over once we’re back on the Marauder.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” You patted Wrecker’s shoulder and followed him to where the others started preparing for the trip.

You begin the journey back to the ship at Wrecker’s side but the longer you walked, the slower your pace became and eventually you fell behind. The fire is still roaring behind you, the warmth of it faint against your back and despite having felt like you’ve travelled miles, you're not even halfway back to the ship yet.

Echo slowed down to match your pace, arm brushing against yours, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Echo. I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off, that's all.”

“Should I get Tech? He’ll probably have a stim shot.”

“No, there’s no need to bother him. I just need a sec-,” A sharp spasm rippled down your back, the force of it knocking you over, your legs giving out from underneath you.

Echo caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and you leaned into his embrace, head crashing onto his shoulder. Echo lowered both of you to the ground, “Help, we need help!”

Hunter dropped down beside you, helmet placed on the ground as his eyes scanned over your body, looking for injuries, but he can’t tell if the blood is yours or the creatures, “Echo, what happened?”

“I don’t know, we were talking and then she collapsed.”

“Collapsed?” Wrecker appeared beside Hunter, helmet also off, his brows knitted together, “Is she okay?”

You know what he’s thinking, it’s written across his face. He should have checked you over earlier and you know very well that thoughts like those never lead anywhere good, so you grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “I’m okay, Wrecker. I just need a second.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Crosshair huffed impatiently. He’s out of your line of sight but you know he’s scowling, “Get up.”

“We have time to let her catch her breath,” Hunter surveyed the burning grass. The fire is steady and far enough that it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few seconds, “When we get back to the ship, Tech is going to check you over, okay?”

Tech eyed the flames with caution, “For once I find myself agreeing with Crosshair. We don’t know what other animals the noise and fire might draw. We shouldn't stay here. It’ll be best to let Wrecker carry her to the ship.”

“First cardio, now a full upper body workout! It’s shaping up to be a good day after all.” Wrecker joked, but he couldn’t hide the anxiety that lingered in his words as he waited for Hunter’s permission.

Hunter nodded and moved out of the way, “Thanks Wrecker.”

“I got ya, ner vod.” Wrecker scooped you up, shifting you in his arms to get a better grip, only before he could find one comfortable enough for the both of you, he froze, his hold on you loosening until you were set back down carefully.

“Wrecker?”

“I-, she’s…,” He stuttered, taking several steps away from you until his back collided with a tree behind him. His eyes desperately searched for his brother, “Tech, she’s… oh maker, please no.”

You frowned, confused at his sudden behaviour. Tech seemed equally confused but he must have seen something in Wrecker's expression that you hadn’t, because suddenly he’s digging through his pack, searching for something of importance judging by the urgency of his movements.

You turned back to Hunter, “What’s wrong? What’s Tech doing?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure everything is fine.” Hunter reassured, returning to his previous place beside you. His hand slipped under your shirt, fingers deftly prodding at your side until they stopped at the bottom of your rib cage, then he’s applying pressure against your skin, cursing as he yelled for his brother to hurry.

Echo grabbed his pack, emptying the contents carelessly onto the ground before lifting your head up and placing the pack on the ground as a cushion for you, “Just relax, everything is okay, you’re okay.”

Tiny footsteps made their way to where you’re laying and Hunter held up his hand, stopping Omega from coming any closer. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her but his words are directed at his older brother, “Echo, take Omega to the ship.”

“No,” Omega fought the hand that grabbed her arm, shoving Echo back, “What's going on? Why aren’t we moving?”

She looked at you, anxiously awaiting an answer and you're quick to reassure the small girl, “Need a sec’, I prob’ly inhaled too much smoke.”

Realising that she isn’t going to go willingly to the Marauder, Hunter sighed, “Omega, go check on Wrecker. That’s an order, kid.”

Omega pressed her lips together and for a second you thought she was about to argue but instead she listened and went to check on Wrecker. The bigger clone’s sat on the ground, head between his legs, but he welcomed Omega into his arms when she hugged him in an attempt to calm him down.

Hunter cocked his head towards the two, “Echo, keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, sir,” Echo stood up and laid a hand on Hunter's shoulder, his voice lowering to a whisper, “Take care of her, vod.”

Tech took Echo's place, a scanner held over your body and he adjusted his goggles in the way he does when something isn’t looking good. The muscle in his jaw twitched before he turned the scanners screen to Hunter.

You tore your eyes away from them and tilted your head back to watch as the fire curled up into the dawn sky. Red and oranges mix with the pale pascals, and the stars, so bright from here, so familiar, blur with every breath you take. You can’t help but let your eyes drift shut.

��Don’t do that,” Crosshair hissed, “Keep your eyes open.”

You blinked them back open and you’re a little surprised to see Crosshair kneeling down beside you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. When your eyes met his, the corner of his mouth turned up, “Good, keep your eyes on me.”

“Crosshair?” You leaned into his hand, seeking the comfort he’s providing despite his usual nature, “Why aren’t we movin’? Is someone hurt?”

“No, everything is okay,” Crosshair replied, but it’s through clenched teeth. Something he only does when he’s having to say something he doesn’t fully believe and/or agree with. He positioned himself criss-crossed above you and lifted your head, replacing Echo’s pack with his lap, “We’re just taking a break.”

Right, a break. A second to relax and catch your breath, that’s what you needed. You closed your eyes, even though you're pretty sure someone just told you not to, but there’s a heavy fog clouding your mind and you can’t remember who it was.

“I said to keep them open.” Crosshair, right, that’s who said it. The man who’s currently demanding you to look at him.

“Crosshair, keep her awake.”

You're able to open your eyes enough to watch as the sniper glared at Tech, “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

Hunter’s fingers threaded through yours, “You can’t fall asleep, cyar’ika, okay? Hey, look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.”

The fading sun is too bright and your vision struggles to focus but you listened to his words and for that he gave you the softest smile, “There you are.”

“Wrec’ ok’?”

“He’s okay. We’re all okay. You just take another second to relax and don’t worry about anything, we have you.” Hunter pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Echo rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at his Sergeant, “You have to tell her, Hunter. You have to let her say goodbye.”

You want to ask what he means. Who’s saying goodbye by who. You want to ask why he looks so sorrowful, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate and your voice only comes out in weak gasps.

“Move,” Tech ordered Crosshair, taking his position to support your body up against his chest, helping the air fill your lungs, “Deep breaths, nice and slow.”

You tried to match Tech’s breathing, the strength in his inhale and the sturdiness in the exhale, but your lungs start to fail you as your breathing became weaker, your grip loosened but Hunter doesn’t let go. Not even when your eyes drift shut for the final time and your chest stills.

Hunter lowered his head, pressing his forehead to yours as he whispered a promise: “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”

“Hunter?”

“Kid-,” Crosshair reached out for Omega, not sure if he was trying to comfort and protect her or hell, maybe even himself, as she dropped to her knees beside your body. It took everything in him to not walk away, far from here, but she needs him. His brothers need him.

They all watched helplessly as Omega finally noticed the blood pooling around your body, “She's bleeding! Tech, why are you just sitting there?! Help her!”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do, Omega. The wound was too deep, she was losing too much blood. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t believe that. There has to be something we can do!” She pressed her tiny hands against the wound while she begged through tears: “Wake up! Talk to me, say something, anything! Please, open your eyes!”

“Ad’ika, she’s gone,” Hunter swallowed around the lump in his throat, his lower lip quivered when he pulled the small clone into his arms, “She’s gone.”

Mando’a translation

Parjir. – Victory

Ner vod – My sister

Cyar’ika – darling/sweetheart

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum – Daily remembrance of those passed on *I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.*

Ad’ika – Little one

#the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb x platonic reader #justice joy writes #tw: character death

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jaesqueso · 2 years ago

Text

Sit down (m)

pairing: co-worker!taeyong x female office manager!reader (briefly featuring co-workers taeil, johnny and jaehyun)

summary: sometimes a women in power just wants to be played around like a toy

word count: 1,942

warnings: uses of ‘master’ and some degrading terms, oral sex, unprotected sex, cream pie

a/n: little page anniversary present to you all, thank you for all the support through these 2 years, I hope ya’ll enjoy it ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

"Who was responsible for this?" You ask in a stern voice.

"That would be my team." Taeil says bowing his head in apology.

"Bring them in." You order. “Now."

Quickly the man leaves your office coming back followed by three other. You look at them recognising each one. Johnny Suh. Jung Jaehyun. And Lee Taeyong.

"I'm not gonna bother asking who's fault is this but you have one hour to get this sorted." All four of them bow and are about to leave the room until you interrupt. "Here. I want to see you fix this mess. Sit down.”

In a blink of an eye everybody takes a seat and gets down to work. With a sigh you walk around your desk and sit on your chair.

"Ahreum," you call into your speaker, "move my 3 o'clock to 4 and re-schedule me 4:30 for tomorrow.”

With a positive response you lean back, watching all man concentrated on their laptops, tension filling the air. You've been an office manager for a long time in this company and that has built up the respect you surely deserve. Some may call you mean or even a bitch, but you just like things done properly on a timely fashion and when that doesn't happen, well you need to take proper measures.

At ten minutes to the deadline you ask for an update and team leader Moon Taeil ensures you they're almost finished, but you don't take it for granted until you see it.

"All done." He finally announces and all eyes focus on you.

"Copy me in on the apology email to the client." You order as he rapidly types on the keyboard.

"In behalf of the team we apologise." They all stand up and bow.

"Just make sure this doesn't happen again, Moon." You warn and they leave.

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a sigh you go on with the rest of the day, a boring meeting where you pretend to be the nicest person in the world to score the deal, answering some emails and before you know it it's already past your time to go.

After packing your things, you put away your work phone and grab your personal when, smiling when you see a specific text.

Master: we still on for tonight?

You: yup. 8pm. My place.

Leaving the already empty office you rush home to make some food and get ready for the night.

Checking the clock, your leg shakes in anticipation as you wait on your couch. At 8 sharp the door bell rings and you jump up, almost running to answer.

"Hi, taeyong." Your greeting sounds relieved and he smirks. "Come in.”

Taking off his shoes and jacket, he walks into the living room like he owns the place.

You take one last look in the mirror, making sure you look good before you turn to him, awaiting his call.

"Come here." He nods his head and you take a step forward before he stops you. "Not like that.”

Understanding exactly what he means, you get down on all fours, crawling your way to him. At his feet, you kneel but keep your head down, knowing not to look him in the eye without permission.

"Good girl." He pats your head making your insides tingle. "Look at me.”

Instantly you glance up, almost melting at the way he looks at you, like he can't wait to ruin you.

"Are you gonna behave today?" Eagerly you nod making him chuckle. "Show me.”

Lifting your hands, you slowly undo his belt, then unbutton his slacks and slide the zipper down. Still making eye contact with him, you push his pants to the floor followed by his underwear, resisting the urge to look at his half hard cock inches away from your face. Your hand moves up his thigh to grab it and blindly align it with your mouth.

"I think you can do better than that." He challenges as he steps out of his pants. "No hands.”

Dropping your arms to your sides, you open your mouth and try to find his cock while your eyes are still on his.

"You're such a pathetic little whore." He mocks you as he takes of his shirt, leaving him completely naked. "but pathetic little whores always get what they want, don't they?”

You struggle to nod as you get more of his dick inside your mouth. Once you get to the base, you feel your eyes water and you move your head back starting to feel a gag reflex, but Taeyong has other plans. His hand falls to the back of your head pushing it back to him. Struggling, you focus on breathing through your nose until he finally let's you go.

"That's it. Good girl." He praises with a smirk, wiping a tear that was rolling down your cheek. "Now show me you can keep it up.”

Your hair is bunched up on a pony before you're forced back on his length. But this time you were ready and move back and forth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him. He hisses and you take it as an incentive, adding your tongue to the mix, knowing damn well it drives him crazy.

"You're pulling all the tricks today, aren't you?" He says through clenched teeth as his cock grows into your throat.

Moaning with your mouth full, you can already feel your panties sticking to your wet pussy. A lot of women don't particularly enjoy giving head but to you it's a freaking pleasure, specially when you're being roughly guided into it.

"Ok, that's enough." You gasp as Taeyong pulls your head away, strings of your saliva and his pre-cum keeping you connected. "Get up.”

With his hand still gripping your hair, you pull yourself up, standing right in front of him.

"Look at you. So nasty." He comments, spreading the mess around your mouth with his thumb. "Who's my dirty little whore?”

"I am." Your voice is small and you can feel your throat getting sore already.

"Yes, you are." Leaning forward, he gives you a sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your mouth. "Come with me.”

Following him to the couch, you patiently wait for his next instructions, pretty aware of the mess between your legs pushing through the pink lace underwear you decided to wear tonight.

"Sit down." He orders and you don't waste another second. "Open up, I'm hungry now.”

Taeyong watches your legs part as wide as you possibly can, smirking at your arousal.

"Look at that, I haven't even touched you." A small whine leaves your mouth, desperate for his touch. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson on being patient.”

"Please..." The word leaves your lips before you can even think and he chuckles.

"But since you said ‘please…'" He mocks your tone getting down on his knees in front of you.

His tongue rolls out and takes a long lick over the wet lace, making your head fall back with a shaky sigh. He starts eating you out over the fabric, the friction adding to the pleasure. Slowly his hands making their way up your thighs, through your sides until they cup your breast that are still covered with a matching lace bra. His fingers tease your already hard nipples about to poke through and you can't help moan at the added feeling.

Gripping the pillows on the couch, you crave for his direct touch, without the lingerie set in the way, but you wouldn't dare ask for it, when you started your little arrangement you both agreed he could do anything he wanted and you just had to obey and endure. When you put it like that it may seem like an unfair deal for you, but being used so carelessly is what really gets you hot.

The orgasm builds up rapidly inside, you don't know how Taeyong always manages to get you to cum so quickly and with so little, but maybe the reverse roles outside the office plays a part on it. Soon you feel it taking over you, your back arching of the couch as you moan his name out loud.

"I thought you were going to behave." His head comes up between your legs, his tongue licking his lips. "Who told you you could cum?”

"I'm sorry..." You whisper, still breathless as you come down your high.

"Oh, you will be." Standing back up he admires your body. "Cause I'm about to wreck you.”

You yelp when he suddenly grabs your hips pulling you forward and up. Your head now rests on the seat as the rest of your body is upside down, ass resting against his crotch.

"Let's get this out of the way." He fully rips your underwear out of your body. “Oops..."

The way he stares down to your fully exposed core tells you he's not even sorry he ruined one of the most expensive lingerie sets on your closet. Giving a few pumps on his still hard dick, he lays it right between your folds, moving his hips back and forward to create friction against your pussy.

"You're going to take my cock like a good girl?" You nod as you can, biting your lip. "Let's see about that.”

His length easily slips into your wet hole, the strange angle making you feel like never before. Taeyong starts moving in and out of you, quickly picking up a good pace that turns you into a moaning mess.

"Look at this. " Glancing up you can't believe your eyes when you see his bulge through your stomach. "I'm fucking you so deep you can see it.”

You don't know why the scene turned you on so much but you can already feel your second orgasm approach. And apparently, so can he.

"Don't you dare cum before I say so." He warns, fucking you harder and faster.

"Please..." You plea, desperate for release.

"As much as I love to see you beg, you’re going to have to hold on just a bit longer.” As he bites his lip you can tell he’s close too. “Master needs his release first.”

Clenching your walls you hope to speed up the process, because you know you really won’t be able to hold it much longer.

“You nasty little slut.” Taeyong hisses. “You want my cum?”

“Yes, please!” You almost yell in despair.

“Oh yeah?” You can feel his thrusts getting sloppy. ”I’m gonna fill you up so good. And you’re going to take it all.”

“Give it to me master, please!” You mumble between moans.

“You want it that bad?” He groans with a smirking. “Here it comes.”

Strings of hot cum paint your insides, his pace slowing but not stopping.

“Go on, your time now.”

With a warm feeling inside you let your self go, body trembling in pleasure as he gives a few final thrust before halting his moves still buried inside you. If he wasn’t still holding your hips in place, you’re sure your body would’ve fallen, half on the couch, half on the floor.

“Look at this.” Taeyong slowly gets his dick out of you, watching your hole clench around nothing, full of his cum. “So beautiful.”

As your breathing gets back to normal you start to feel the pain in your back from the awkward position you’re still in. When you moan, in pain this time, he understands and carefully positions your body back down on the couch.

“Was that good?” He asks, sitting down next to you.

“Don’t be so needy, Taeyong.” You scoff, getting up. “Order us some food, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun @nohyuckieduckie @booyouwhore17 @jenoxygen @jaehyunsprincess

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

#neohub #taeyong smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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alexgadart · 2 years ago

Text

I want to wish you all a happy transgender day of visibility today

A lot of my art has become not only a celebration of my trans body but an act of protest through my trans body, a fight for visibility within the art world for bodies like mine, who don’t fit into oppressive gender norms. With the increasing anti-trans and anti-2SLGBTQIA+ bills and legislations happening in the past few years, it’s important for me to use what small platform or voice I have in the art community to advocate for my trans peers and their voices, as my sole experience can never represent the whole of this incredibly diverse and vibrant community. Queer and trans art have been erased from our art history for too long.

I want to thank everybody who has supported me in my art career, your support means everything

#trans day of visibility #trans artist #trans art #tdov

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cowboyemeritus · 5 months ago

Text

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

Summary: You have a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad time down in The Pit. (18+)

Content Warning: body negativity/dysphoria, internalized misogyny, implied/referenced abuse, sexual harassment, sexist language, vomiting, smut

Read on AO3

Notes: got a little case of writer's block but we're working through it! thanks for bearing with me everybody :)

these first few chapters, in my mind, have really been just setting the scene. now, we can start really getting into the actual plot.

thanks again for all your support! feedback is always welcome.

Well, fuck.

You really shouldn’t have taken Terzo’s bait. Sitting on one of the plush couches in the lounge, you take tiny sips of the drink Copia bought you after the meeting (which you really should have refused) and pray your head doesn’t start spinning.

It’s comfortable, at least. You can sit there and watch while Copia chats with one of Terzo’s girls, a plump, voluptuous woman with thick white curls of hair. She’s absolutely gorgeous — all of them are — with a bright smile framed by deep red lips. You’re not really listening to their conversation, but you can tell the two are well acquainted.

He must be a regular.

That shouldn’t matter. You’re just his business partner. Everything that goes on between you two is completely professional and means nothing.

Copia says something and the woman laughs, her ample chest bouncing. It’s hard for you to look directly at her, at any of the girls, without feeling the sharp sting of envy in your chest. You want to feel entitled to his attention, especially now that he’s made you partially responsible for the success of his business, but you can’t convince yourself that you deserve it. You do not have the charm, wit, or beauty that she does.

You’re already too drunk for this.

He turns his head in your direction when you wordlessly rise from the couch, but makes no attempt to stop you as you walk — really stumble, in your stupid heels — over to the bar. One of the girls is manning it, a fit young woman with a mess of russet curls atop her head. You quietly ask her if there’s a bathroom. Something about your countenance must be off, because when she points a well-manicured finger back down the long hallway, her smile seems forced.

“First door on the left.” By the time you make it there your eyes are stinging.

You make sure to lock the door before leaning against the sink, propped up on your forearms. Looking in the mirror is a mistake. Copia had put makeup on you, concealing your bruises and rimming your eyes with black kohl. It’s starting to smudge. The bandaid plastered over your nose really ties the feral, gutter-rat look together. The dress does you no favors either; your shoulders look like they’re a mile wide, your arms like tree trunks with all the muscle on them.

The thing looking back at you is not a woman. It’s a creature — wearing a silly dress and makeup and shoes — trying to be one.

Una demionetta.

A single tear slides down your cheek, but nothing more. You can’t remember the last time you really cried.

When you return to the lounge, having done your best to fix the dark smudges under your eyes, Copia has moved to another couch and is absorbed in a conversation with several men you don’t recognize, but will no doubt have to meet soon. Settling back into your spot, you let your mind go blank, staring at the floor as you try to be anywhere else in the world. Copia’s companion from earlier is still there, and when she slides across the couch to sit next to you, your palms clam up.

“Hey, girl,” she says, her rich, melodic voice laced with apprehension. “You’re here with C? I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” You look up at her, confused and more than little embarrassed. The girl from the bar is here now as well, giving you a similar friendly, but pitying, look.

“I’m not-“ You scratch at a scab on your arm. “I’m not his girlfriend. I fight for him sometimes — boxing and stuff. He just wanted me to meet his brothers.” The white-haired woman sighs, her shoulders dropping. The other laughs, the relief in it evident.

“Just had to ask.” Again, another nervous smile. “With all,” she gestures to your face, “that going on, we were worried that maybe… you know.” Your eyes widen.

“Oh, no. It’s not- He’s not like that.” She slumps back against the couch, draping an arm over her eyes.

“Well, that’s a relief. He’s always been such a sweetheart, but you never know.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, wondering just how long Copia has known this woman.

“I thought I was gonna have to kick his ass,” the redhead says, holding up her balled fists. Her arms are nicely toned, but still look like twigs compared to yours. She could at least give him a black eye, if she really wanted to. The three of you settle into a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“I’m Cumulus, by the way,” the woman with white hair eventually says, sitting up to shake your hand. “This is Sunshine.” Does everyone who works for the Family — with the exception of Kevin, apparently — have a weird nickname? You mumble out your name, your eyes wandering over to Copia. For the first time in at least an hour he acknowledges your presence, shooting you a playful wink.

“Does he come here often,” you ask, not thinking. When your words sink in, you immediately backpedal. “You probably can’t tell me that. Sorry, I-” Cumulus chuckles.

“He used to,” she says, giving you a look that makes you feel like you’re under an x-ray. “But now he really only comes around to see his brother. It’s been like that the past — I don’t know — maybe a year?” Sunshine nods in agreement.

“How long have you known C?” She asks. Hearing them refer to him like that makes you feel weird. The nickname, it’s too foreign, too cute to be man you know.

“About a year.” You pick at one of your cuticles. It starts to bleed.

“So, fighting. Is that, like, your job?” Cumulus gives Sunshine a pointed look, nudging her with an elbow.

“No.” You have to force yourself to hold eye contact with her. “I work at a bar downtown — The Barebones. Washing dishes and stuff.” It’s the only job you’ve been able to hold down longer than a few months, mostly because Mary also works there. You used to bus tables, too, but after multiple instances where he’s had to leap over the bar to intervene between you and rowdy customers, you’ve since become confined to the kitchen. You probably would have been fired by now, if not for the fact that the place is owned by the uncle of one of Mary’s bandmates.

“Nice,” Cumulus says, nodding. “You do anything for fun?” She’s really trying her damndest to keep this conversation going, bless her heart.

When was the last time I had fun?

“I like birds, I guess.”

Oh my god.

Sunshine quirks an eyebrow. “Like, looking at them, or-“ Her attention is suddenly drawn to the watch on her wrist. She lets out a distressed noise, holding out her arm so that Cumulus can also see the time. “Shit, we gotta goooooo.”

Cumulus cringes. “Our shift upstairs is starting in a sec. Sorry.” Both women stand, rounding around the side of the couch. Before leaving, Cumulus leans in so that she’s right next to your ear. She smells like sex and vanilla. “I know this is a bit… presumptive, but if you ever need anything, you know where we are. You’re an Emeritus girl, like all of us. We’ll look out for you.” Before you can respond she pulls away, taking a few steps back from the couch and waving. “Great meeting you!” Cumulus and Sunshine then ascend the stairs, leaving you alone once again.

After all that, pounding the rest of your drink seems like the most logical next step.

You sit for a few more minutes, feeling the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach. When your mouth starts to feel dry, the sweetness of the cocktail stagnating, you eye a pitcher of water on the bar that appears to be there for anyone to take from. A bit wobblier than before, you go and fill your glass, taking a long, reviving sip.

But because nothing can be easy, a man slides up next to you, uncomfortably close as he leans against the bar. By the looks of him he’s just another Emeritus lackey, although he grins at you like he owns the damn place. He’s tall and rather scrawny-looking, his face snake-like.

“Girls here sure are pretty,” he says, slurring his words slightly. He leans in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. “You like the girls, honey?” His hand plants itself on your shoulder. You’ve beaten men half to death for less, but right now you’re frozen. There are a lot of important people here. You have to hold it together; if not for Copia’s sake, than for your own. If you were anywhere else this guy’s face would be caved-in by now.

“I- I don’t-“ You’re looking over the man’s shoulder at Copia, who’s still engrossed in his conversation. Why doesn’t he see you?

“Don’t worry, I think it’s sexy.”

Copia, please. He remains oblivious. Your heart is thumping like it wants to burst out of your chest.

The hand, cold and slimy against your skin, begins to slither down. Your body doesn’t give you time to feel any particular way about it. In the blink of an eye your fist is connecting with the man’s face. You hit him so hard he stumbles back, losing his balance and plummeting to the floor. The entire room stops all at once, heads whipping in your direction. There are a few gasps and expletives as he hits the ground square on his ass, a couple of other men rushing to his side. He’s disoriented, and it takes a moment for them to pick him up. Already, his cheek is welting up nicely.

“She- She hit me,” he stammers, like the very thought of it is dangerous. He’s used to getting what he wants. One of his buddies, a short, squat man with a haphazard combover, starts moving towards you, flaming contempt in his eyes.

“What’s your problem, bitch?” He’s slurring worse than his friend. It looks like he’s going to try and grab you, but before he can even get close Copia appears in the space between you, hands raised casually.

“Gentlemen, have some respect for my brother’s establishment. This is not the streets, yeah?” The small man looks at Copia incredulously, but backs away. “We all know Pietro,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “Sometimes he drinks too much. Sometimes he forgets how to act in front of a lady.” He strolls over to Pietro, who’s still being held up by his friends. Copia’s back is to you, but you can see the fear on all of the men’s faces as he draws closer. “Right, Pietro?” His tone is still friendly, but there’s an edge to it, icy enough to make even you a little nervous. Gulping, Pietro nods.

“Right, Mr. Emeritus.” Copia nods, leaning in close to get in the man’s face. He grasps Pietro’s chin, turning his head to examine the swelling on his cheek.

“Che femminuccia.” Silently, he stalks back over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into him. The party tentatively resumes, the din of voices doing little to distract from the ringing in your ears. The sheer amount of eyes still on you makes you want to shrink away, but you are so very weak to Copia’s touch. Pietro and his friends file out of the lounge not long after, avoiding your gaze as they timidly bid him goodnight.

“It is getting late, dolcezza,” he says after the group has finally fled. He shows you his watch and, sure enough, it’s already past midnight. “Are you tired?” You nod. The motion makes your stomach lurch, and you suddenly become aware of how dizzy you are. With a hand on your back, Copia guides you to the stairs. He takes a moment to exchange farewells with a few of his associates but you don’t stop, flinging the door open once you reach the top. Your chest is tight, stomach fluttering uncomfortably, as you tear through the crowd.

They’re looking at you. They’re all looking at you. Everyone can see what you are. Everyone knows what you did.

Your mouth is full of saliva by the time you make it to the front entrance. You can feel the bile rising in your throat. One of the doormen tries to stop you on your way out but you push past him, practically throwing yourself out into the night. You stumble, making it a few paces before retching, the contents of your stomach spattering onto the asphalt. Based on the way it burns, it seems to be mostly alcohol. There are a few exclamations from the people still in line, which only adds to your desire to collapse in on yourself. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as the acid stings your throat and nose.

It’s over mercifully soon. Even after you’re certain there’s nothing left you remain hunched over, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. It dawns on you that you haven’t eaten anything since this morning, although your stomach feels hard, like a rock. People are asking if you’re okay but you ignore them, sucking in breaths of cool night air like you need it to survive.

“Oh, poverina.” Copia manifests from behind you, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He goes to wipe your mouth but you wave him off, feeling like a child as you snatch up the cloth and do it yourself. Still, his hand finds your back, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh. “Are you alright now?”

You hiccup. “My feet hurt.”

The drive had been silent. Entering the house had been silent. Now you’re sitting on Copia’s bed without either of you having said a word since you left The Pinnacle. He’s over at his dresser, slipping into a pair of boxers. There’s a stand mirror next to it, and from your spot on the bed you can see yourself. You’d ditched the shoes in the car, and Copia has since scrubbed the makeup off your face, but you’re still wearing that stupid dress. You look down at your hand, the one you’d hit Pietro with. His face was bony; your knuckles are still pink.

You can tolerate being the center of attention when you’re in the ring. With all the adrenaline pumping through you, everything else just fades out. In those moments of blissful focus, it’s just you and your opponent. This had not been like that. This time there was no high, just a rush of fear as your base instincts took control. And no one cheered for you — they just stared.

“There’s no other way to describe it. With this kid… It’s like we’re trying to raise a wild animal.”

You meet your gaze in the mirror. Your eyes look dead.

Copia clears his throat. He’s leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed. His eyes cut into you like razors. You’re not sure how long he’s being watching you. He paces over to the bed, taking a seat next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and your eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror. You wait for him to say something. Instead, he plants a kiss on your neck that quickly devolves into nipping and sucking the flesh. His free hand comes up to fiddle with the thin strap of your dress, a finger hooking under and pulling it down your shoulder. For as exhausted and empty as you feel, his touch lights that spark inside you, the heat pooling in your abdomen. Copia reaches into your dress, pulling out your breast as he begins massaging it. A quiet moan escapes your throat.

“Don’t look away,” he whispers. Your chest tightens with apprehension. You want to ignore him, but know he’ll stop if you do.

For a man who’s never labored a day in his life, Copia’s hands are remarkably large and strong. There’s something oddly hypnotizing about the way he kneads your flesh, making it look soft and malleable beneath his palm. You go slack-jawed, groaning, as he takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you watch him roll the bud between his digits until it’s hard and sensitive. The hand on your waist travels to your upper back, finding the tab of your zipper and teasingly pulling it down. The front of your dress falls as he flicks the other strap off your shoulder. Copia groans as your chest is fully exposed, his hand slinking under your arm to grab your other breast.

“Oh, look at that.” He draws your attention by running his thumbs over your nipples. You moan, pussy fluttering at the sight of him cradling your breasts, gently bouncing them so he can feel their weight. “A perfect fit, don’t you think?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol still talking, but he has a point.

The moment is over too soon, Copia bidding you stand so that he can pull the dress down the rest of the way. He goes for your panties, too, the garments pooling at your feet before he tugs off his own underwear. You turn your head instinctively and Copia tuts, maneuvering you to sit across his lap. You’re not expecting it when he ducks down to take one of your breasts into his mouth. Sex with him has always been to-the-point, with very little foreplay beyond what’s necessary to prepare you. The feeling and sight of his mouth on you is very much new, and your cheeks blaze with heat. It’s like watching a train wreck; you want to look away, but remain transfixed as Copia sucks and lathes his tongue across your nipple. This new pleasure has you squirming in his lap, and he groans when your ass grinds against his hard cock.

“Papa, please,” you moan, moving your hips to try and draw another noise out of him. He chuckles, still with your breast in his mouth, the vibration traveling directly to your core. Copia gives you an intrigued look as he lifts his head and finally kisses you, although it’s a bit too chaste for your liking.

“So demanding,” he chides. “But you have good manners, at least.” He repositions you so that you’re sitting with your back to his chest, the dusting of hair tickling your skin. His cock is hot and hard against the cleft of your ass. You straddle his legs so that when he spreads them, you get a full view of your sopping core, thighs glistening with slick. It’s too much. You try to bury your face in the crook of his neck but he grabs your chin, holding your head so it’s facing the mirror.

“I said look, amore.” With no other option but to comply, you watch as his other hand descends between your legs. He lets out pleased hum as he feels how aroused you are, drawing two fingers in gentle circles around your clit. Your hips buck, thighs trying to squeeze together against the resistance of his parted legs. His fingers dip inside you and your entire body contracts. When he lets go of your face it’s so that his other hand can take over rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already, you can feel your climax approaching. “Not so shy anymore, eh?”

“Fuck.” You swallow hard. “Please, just-” He crooks his fingers just right and you moan again, accidentally meeting your eyes in the mirror as you throw your head back.

The person in front of you looks nothing like her normal self. Her eyes are wild with desire. She is being held by the man she wants most, deliciously vulnerable as he pulls pleasure out of her. He has an almost reverent look on his face, like she is an idol to be worshipped, and not some miserable dog he found on the street.

The fingers on your clit stay, but his other hand retreats. Copia reaches between you, grasping his cock and giving it a few, wet-sounding jerks as he coats it with your arousal. He strokes you a few more times before gently grabbing your hip, guiding you to hover above him. When you finally sink down, you’re mesmerized by the way your body stretches to accommodate him to the hilt. He thrusts into you experimentally and a shiver runs down your spine. You grind back down into him, already quivering for your release. A rhythm quickly develops where you meet each other perfectly in the middle, a quiet slap resounding every time your ass meets his lap. Copia begins to rub your clit in earnest, his other hand finding your breast. Your climax builds again, transfixed by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy.

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Mia bella ragazza.” You whine, twisting your head back qnd pressing your mouth to his. That must surprise him because for a moment he falters, leaving you hanging for what feels like an eternity. The torture is short lived, though, and he makes a pleased noise before pounding into you even harder. His tongue prods at your lips and you let him claim your mouth, wanting nothing more than to melt into him.

You cum not long after, whimpering into Copia’s mouth as he fucks you through it. It’s different this time; he’s so much more gentle than when you normally have sex. Is this what making love feels like? He doesn’t stop kissing you, either, even after you come down completely. A few pumps later and he jerks to a halt, twitching as he spills inside you.

Copia is panting, sweat beading where his chest meets your back. “You see now, dolcezza?” You nod, the exhaustion in your body retuning tenfold. Despite the intrusion still inside you, your eyelids begin to droop. “Good." He pauses. "You’re good girl, you know.” The praise makes your core flutter with interest, but you’re quickly sinking into the realm of unconsciousness. Before you can go completely limp Copia helps you lift off of him, cupping a hand over your pussy to catch the drops of spend that leak out. With one more kiss, he finally lets you lay down on the bed. Your body feels so heavy, weary from evening’s events, but you’re fucked-out and not as bothered by them anymore. Eyes shut, you can just barely make out of the sound of him padding across the bedroom floor, then the creak of the bathroom door.

By the time Copia returns, a warm washcloth in hand, you’re already fast asleep. He works quickly, careful not to disturb you as he tends to the mess between your legs. When he’s finished, his gaze lingers on your sleeping face. So seldom are you relaxed like this; the sight feels forbidden. He brushes a few strands of hair out of your face before he turns out the light.

Maybe you’ll still be here when he wakes up. That wouldn’t be so bad.

#my writing #the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #frater imperator x reader #it's been 3000 years but i WILL keep this going

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