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#damn im impressed that i finished this
dimorphodon-x · 1 year
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It’s probably obvious that I’m a big fan of impractical but cool serrated beaks and crooked crocodile teeth when it comes to designing dragons lol
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altruistic-meme · 5 months
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abram darling, my love, the light on the eastern horizon, what are all your WIPs rn?
first and foremost i need you to know that when i got this my thought was "hm. what are all of my WIPs right now....." with the EXACT cadence and tone as this line from atla;
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and then i had to go and find them all fksjdjjss but!!! these are all of my WIPs :) and now I've got an actual doc that has them listed so I don't have to play hide and seek in my overcrowded google docs next time
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i only included ones I've actually WORKED on and not the ones that are random ideas that don't have anything written yet ;;; there are...... More if we were to add those.
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bluefaewren · 7 months
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i need to finish this fic so i can go back to writing weird shit
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13 voice: dont psychoanalyse me while im trying to impress my date thanks
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bipercykin · 1 year
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new year’s resolution: stop drinking altogether bc the anxiety is too awful to just put up w any time i want to drink rip to myself i am not built different i am built frail and tiny
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mischiefmoons · 2 months
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crazy little thing
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies
(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)
“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 
Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.
Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.
“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 
“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.
Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”
The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.
“Right…she’s just a friend.”
Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.
Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 
“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”
The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.
Why are feelings so damn complicated? 
It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.
“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).
“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.
“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”
If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.
Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 
Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.
Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 
That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?
Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table….You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.
You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.
Nothing gets past you at this point.
But that sucks too sometimes, you know?
Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 
So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.
The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 
Devotion. 
To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 
That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 
But you two are just friends. 
Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.
Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.
If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.
You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids…and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable…or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.
“Take a break, trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.
“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.
“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”
“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).
Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.
“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 
Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.
“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.
There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.
“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.
“Heh…I think they were just practicing or something…”
He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 
Fucking hustlers.
The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.
“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  
“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”
Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 
“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.
“Oops.” 
Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.
“You've already got trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.
The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.
“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”
“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.
“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.
“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”
“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, trouble?”
Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees. Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stoll brothers put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.
“You gonna charge him again?”
A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.
“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.
“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.
“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”
Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.
“Wanna get out of here?”
You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"
"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.
"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"
Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.
"Don't worry about it."
He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.
"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.
"Why's that?"
"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"
He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.
“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"
You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.
 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”
You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.
In short, he’s fucked.
"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.
But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.
I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places...That this heart of mine embraces...
You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.
“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.
“Only if it makes you laugh.”
And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.
I’ll always think of you that way…I’ll find you in the morning sun….
Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.
“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.
“No, you don’t.”
His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.
“I don’t.”
And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you…
It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.
Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 
“Thank you.”
Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on. When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.
“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.
“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.
“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”
“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.
“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”
“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.
“My body ages,
my anger burns into a seam.
I am so annoyed by love
and still it comes.”
-Kate Baer
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Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.
Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince
NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE
That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.
Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~
Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:
~
Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.
Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.
But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.
All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.
Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.
As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.
Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.
"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."
Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.
But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"
So this was the famous Arabeth.
"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."
The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.
He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.
"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.
"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"
And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.
It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?
Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"
She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"
"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"
"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"
"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."
"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.
"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"
Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.
Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."
"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.
Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?
But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.
It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.
By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.
"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.
"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."
"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.
"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"
Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.
Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.
She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"
"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."
She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"
"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.
"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"
This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.
You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."
But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."
She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"
"No! I'm marrying the prince!"
Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.
"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"
She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."
Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."
Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."
"Dad don't-"
"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.
He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."
"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."
"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."
"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"
"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.
He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.
Now all he had to do was ask.
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gogomatthew · 6 months
Text
Sensitive
DAY 1 OF KINKTOBER: EAR PLAY
KT masterlist here 🎃💗
Dom!Spencer x fem!reader
summary: Your boyfriend has a theory about you that he is desperate to prove and after you drop a little comment about him not being dominant.. the opportunity presents itself
warnings: ear play, dom!sub dynamics, squirting, fingering MINORS AGELESS BLOGS DNI ! 18+
The way you flinched away every time someone would whisper into your ear or fix your earpiece made a shiver run down your boyfriends back. He had a theory about you and he knew just how to prove it.
“I can be dominant! you just have to let me!” he exclaims pouring sugar by the pound into his coffee mug “I think the fact that you have to beg to be dominant kinda takes away the whole purpose” you giggle as you bringing your mug up to your mouth just as Hotch makes his way into the small kitchenette area at the BAU effectively stopping Spencer from yapping on about your sex life. He stoops his head down to your ear and whispers “ill prove it to you” his warm breath brushing your sensitive ear gives you goosebumps as he walks away chuckling ignoring the questioning glance from Hotch.
-
By the time you’re packing up your things and getting ready to leave the office for the day, you have come up with about 15 different ways to torture your boyfriend for the way he embarrassed you today but ultimately deciding against it due to the fatigue overtaking your body. The ride back home is mostly filled with comfortable silence, you assume its just because you’re both too tired too speak as he gives your thigh an occasional squeeze as you drive. You enter your shared apartment and make your way to your bedroom desperate to lay in the comfort of your own bed as Spencer follows hot on your heels. You lay down flat on your back letting out a strained sound. You see your boyfriend loosen his ty and kick off his shoes but you miss the look of hunger in his eyes. He crawls over you and his mouth grazes your ear lobe so gently “this is what you wanted all along isnt it?” his raspy voice sending shivers down your body as you try to squirm away from under him only for him to pin your hands over your head. “Who would’ve thought this was all I needed to do to have my way with you” he places an open mouth kiss to your ear lobe before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it causing you to let out a loud whimper “s-stop y-your not being a good boy” he thinks it’s funny yet impressive that you still want to take the dominant role even when you’re pinned under him. He takes your lobe out of his mouth and kisses it “im not? im just trying to make you feel good.. im giving you a what you want” his tone is teasing, he knows he has the upper hand here and he’s going to use it “all you have to do is let me baby.. tell me what you want” he finishes his statement with a lick down your ear “ah- ngh” you’re moaning from every touch already feeling overstimulated but needing more you start bucking your hips up desperately to get your message across but being quickly stopped by his large hand coming down to hold them in place “you have to say it baby cmon” you whine “p-please I want you to touch m-me” you look up pleading.
Hes never seen you like this before, hes never seen you this desperate, its always been the other way around but it was beautiful and he was becoming addicted to it very quickly “you can do better than that sweetheart” it sounds like he’s mocking you but to be honest he could get off just at the sight of you begging for him. “I need you please I need you to make me feel good I-I promise ill be good” you dont even care about how desperate you sound right now, not when his tounge brushes your ear so slowly as the sounds of his breath invade your hearing. Damn these profilers! he figured out your sensitive spot just by observing. He smiles down at you as his hands start roaming your body. He unbuttons whatever buttons his shaky hands manage to get too to watch your chest rising and falling with each sound of pleasure leaving your lips. He cups on of your boobs from under your bra gently playing with your nipple though his erratic movements and shaky breaths that give away how truly desperate he is too, not to mention his rock hard cock rubbing against your clothed thigh making him let out breathy moans in your ear every time he got some relief from the friction making you not feel TOO pathetic anymore. His hand slides down from your boob down your tourso until it reaches your hips, he unbuttons your jeans with one hand as he bites down on your ear a little harder than intended as you let out a yelp and loud strangled moan that reminds spencer to find out if you have a newly found pain kink in the future. He slips his hand under your panties as he starts circling your clit slowly. You feel tears start to well in your eyes desperate for more “faster please” he obeys and starts circling the bundle of nerves faster, he slides his fingers down between your folds until he reaches your opening, he slips 2 fingers in and without giving you time to adjust he starts pumping in and out of you with them.
He curls them at just the right spot enjoying the view of you squirming and your legs shaking as your thighs try to close in around his hand but he goes even faster pulling lewd sounds out of you “f-fuck!!” you turn your head denying him access only for him to move to your other ear and take it in his mouth “SPENCER!!” its all too much you’re practically screaming now “I-I cant please!” hes power drunk right now he cant even stop himself from moaning into your ear with every ounce of friction your thigh gives his aching cock “I- I need to cum- please let me!” part of him wants to deny you just like you have done to him multiple times but he wants you to enjoy this just as much as him so who is he to deny his baby? “im not gonna stop you.. go ahead and finish all over my fingers angel” his thumb comes up to rub your clit as he continues to pump into you “cmon dont keep me waiting” he tops it off with a nip at the shell of your ear. “AHHH-“ your screaming now moving frantically intentionally giving spencer some much needed friction. Relief washes over your body and you squirt all over his fingers. Its not new but it dosent happen very often but when it does.. it makes spencer incredibly cocky. He places a kiss on your ear making you shudder as you attempt to calm down from your orgasm as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and into his mouth “who knew all I needed to do was whisper in your ear” he laughs sweetly making you giggle slightly out of breath. You push him on the bed “you didn’t get to cum..” you give him a slight pout as he stares at you with admiration “I guess I just have to find your sweet spot now” lets just say you both didn’t get much sleep
A/N: first time participating on the writing end of kt hope you all enjoy!! reminder english isnt my first language. REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
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anastasiabowe · 3 months
Note
okay okay but i NEED mike praise. like him abusing your hole and telling you how good you are for him. his hands being everywhere instead of one place to show you how beautiful you are. omg im drooling 😻
Mikes cock plunged into your spasming cunt with ease at this point, you’re so out of it, the only thing in your mind is “Mike!” Your body moves on its own, and your voice is hoarse and tired from the screaming and cries from how Mike has been taking care of you.
Mikes voice was shaky and loud, you were getting closer and closer to your release with every moan and groan he let out.
“So fucking good, so fucking good, so fucking good.” He sounded like a broken record, the only thing on his mind was you, you, you.
Your pussy, your face, your body, your broken moans, your tears, your nails in his back, all of it made him feel on cloud nine.
He just couldn’t get enough of you, he kissed your lips, sucked your tits, bit your neck, he was basically feasting on you, and worshipping you like his own personal goddess.
“Doing so good f’me, such a good girl.” His words of praise sent you into another world-rocking orgasm. Your hips pulled from his never ending thrusts, and he only moved with them.
“I’m so close baby, you wanna make daddy cum?” You nodded to his more so rhetorical question.
“Then be a good girl, and stop tryna run.” He paused his thrusts, and readjusted his position. He went from laying between your legs and fucking you, to sitting up, your legs both on his shoulders, and him hitting a new angle.
“Aha!” You moan at the new position.
“Yeah? That feel good? Good, wanna make my baby happy.” He was covered in sweat, and looked so tired, but this is the moment he worked so hard to get too.
All of the edging was not in vain, he was about to cum, and cum hard.
“Ah- fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, want it inside?” You nodded continuously.
“Cum inside me, daddy!” You cried out and he damn near passed out from the feeling of your pussy.
“Giving you want you want, baby, such a good girl for me, y’deserve this, deserve everything!” He came inside of you, and you came with him.
When you think he finished, there was so much more left, he kept slowly fucking you through his long orgasm.
“Almost done baby, being so so good, gonna treat you real nice when I’m done.” He pumped into you a few more times, and his thrusts finally ceased.
He slowly pulled out, and watched his milky white cum deep out of you. Of course, like always, he takes 2 fingers and pushed it back inside of you.
He slowly layer your legs down, and on wobbly legs, headed to the bathroom to get a warm wet rag.
He cleaned you up real nice, like he said, and himself, and then finally laid in bed with you.
“Can’t tell you enough how good you did baby, always impressing me. Need t give you some award or something.” He whispered in your ear. He then kissed below you ear, kissed your neck, kissed your jaw, your cheek, and finally he kissed your lips, as softly as he could.
He didn’t want to break his baby, you know?
Check HERE for more!
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retrocesosdestacion · 7 months
Text
SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS. | mapi león
mapi león x reader
genre: not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love.
warnings: a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.
notes: i had this prompt when i was cooking an egg. dios im really sorry for making u guys wait too long, also i feel like this is the worst writing I've ever done in my life.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.
But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.
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“ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever. ”
Tennyson.
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❝ Damn. Mapi, you should become an artist. ❞ From the other side of the locker room, you could hear Pina's lips praising the spanish's drawings once again.
It was already the fifth time that day that someone had praised the scribbles in that notebook. And you too, but only in your head. You didn't even have the courage to go there and see the drawings.
Two years ago you were transferred to Barcelona. Everything was normal, you made friends, adapted to the Spain style, adapted to new rules.
But you didn't adapt to Maria León. You didn't have the slightest ability to go up to her and have a chat lasting more than two minutes.
Normally you just greet her, that's when you don't even look at her face. Anyone who saw the two of you together would pinky swear that hated each other.
This was all because in your little mind, Mapi had the greatest disinterest in you. After all, you came to this conclusion when you noticed that the defender always ran away from the conversation when you arrives.
However, over time, you accepted this treatment from the spanish woman, even if you were curious to understand the player. You even told this whole situation to Ona, your best friend.
But it was always the same dilemma: “Relax, she’s shy. “ or “ Mapi has difficulty meeting new people. “
Yet that never made sense, after all, Mapi is anything but bashful.
It became a huge snowball since you never bothered to go talk to her. Therefore, currently your relationship with Mapi is completely lacking affection.
And it was just with you.
Claudia, for example, was one of the lucky ones. She was glued to the blonde's side, attentively observing each page of the spanish woman's small notebook with the greatest freedom and comfort.
At that moment, the defender had both feet on the bench, so she could rest the notebook on her knees. Mapi slowly leafed through the drawings for her friend once again.
❝ Yo ya te dije, who knows in a few years. ❞ (I already told you.) León reply to the other spanish woman's compliment with a very hopeful tone, as part of her dream was to be a tattoo artist.
As always, you just looked at the two girls talking, as you sat, untying your boots.
❝ If you look for longer, you will have bad luck. ❞ Ona mocked your indeterminate stare. ❝ If you’re so interested, go there. ❞ She states while taking off her training uniform.
❝ Madness. She doesn't like me and you want me to suddenly get there? ❞ You threw those words into the air so quickly that Ona took a while to formulate something.
❝ Why do you think she hates you? ❞ Your friend countered.
❝ I've told you thousands of times, Ona. She looks at me dirty, ignores me, she doesn't even want to talk to me even though I'm her training partner! ❞ You justify while gesturing nervously.
❝ Stop being fucking neurotic. ❞ The spanish woman rolled her eyes, finishing putting on her post-workout clothes. ❝ Ve allí, siéntate a su lado y descubrirás por qué te trata así. ❞ (Go there, sit next to her and you will find out why she treats you like that.) Ona stated.
You only knew the basics of spanish, deciphering what the defender had said would take a while. ❝ Huh, what? Find out what? ❞
Ona didn't respond, just giving you a stupid smile and a wink.
Slowly, the oldest left your side and walked towards Mapi and Claudia. The moment she got there, Batlle poked Pina's shoulder and approached, murmuring something in her ear.
❝ What the fuck are you doing?! ❞ You whispered to yourself, automatically standing up; scared and surprised.
Suddenly, you felt the greatest penetration of looking in your direction: Claudia Pina looked at you as if she knew all your secrets, giving you chills.
She smiled a huge and mischievous smile, raised her arm and waved it, calling you over.
Before you went, the only thing you observed was Mapi's embarrassed and awkward manner, grumbling at the two spanish women for calling you.
You thought for seconds before taking the step to go there. A whirlwind of thoughts ran through your mind, like a river heading straight for the waterfall.
What if you are a nuisance to her? What if she leaves the moment you get there?
You were very worried about the relationship with someone you don't even are intimate with.
You worry about the image you give to a person that don't even want to be your friend.
Thus, your heart began to run a marathon from the moment you started your very slow steps towards Mapi León.
Maybe you were afraid of hurting her, but at the same time yourself. As if your feelings were bubbling for the defender and you didn't want to ruin everything.
In your peripheral vision, the only notable details were María closing her notebook as quickly as a middle school student after the last bell, Claudia and Ona smiling goofily and pointing at the defender.
❝ What was it? ❞ Those were your first words when you reached the other side of the locker room, completely looking away from Mapi and just focusing on the other two.
❝ You're the only one on the team who hasn't seen Mapi's drawings, right? ❞ Claudia gave the first word, pushing León's shoulder with her elbow.
You didn't even bother to answer correctly, just opening a painful smile.
❝ Yes, I think so. ❞
After you responded, Mapi frowned, rolling her eyes. This only made you more certain that León actually hated you.
❝ But there's no need to show it. I mean, I'm not interested. ❞ They were the stupidest words that came out of your mouth.
The shine in Mapi's eyes slowly faded with each word that left your lips, the spanish woman's fingers ran to the back of her neck, uncomfortable. At this point, you should be sure that you almost hurt the girl.
❝ Don't be like that. Come on Mapi, show it. ❞ Ona finally said something in the midst of the discomfort of that conversation, lightly patting the other spanish woman on the head.
❝ I'll show you later, I need to pack my things. ❞ Maria came up with the most false excuse possible, since her things were almost one hundred percent ready. León's fingers rested on the slap, giving Ona a dirty look.
Your eyes fell on Claudia and Ona, indignant at all of this.
But you didn't know why. It wasn't as if the lack of communication between two companions would cause such great discomfort.
There was something more, you could feel it. Such something else that even Ona hides from you.
❝ Dios mío, esto es horrible. You two look like children who don't know how to talk to each other. ❞ (Oh my god, this is horrible.) Claudia gave her opinion amidst the silence.
❝ Son como dos chicas enojadas. ❞ (They're like two stupid girls. ) Batlle added.
Mapi stood up delicately, pulling the bag that was previously on the floor to the bench and opening it. ❝ Could you two shut up and get out of here, wouldn't you? ❞
The spontaneous rudeness really took you by surprise, mainly because the defender was staring at the other two, but not at you.
Pina raised her hands in defense, expressing a mere comical sadness on her face. ❝ Right. ❞
The same thing for Ona, who reached for the strap of her sports bag and put it on her left shoulder. ❝ Come on, Claudia. And don't be stupid with [reader]. ❞
❝ Que se jodan ustedes dos. ❞ (Fuck you two.) Mapi grumbled as she mock-rifled through her clothes.
Ona grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her tightly to her feet, slowly dispersing herself from you and Mapi over time, killing the last few minutes. ❝ See you later, [reader]. ❞
Your eyes screamed for help to leave together, following the two girls until they left the main door.
Okay, now you were alone with the girl you were most afraid of.
Gradually, some people and groups would leave within minutes. Silence now, which had previously been scattered conversations, was prevailing, and that was delicious on the one hand.
After all, you loved being alone at times like this. But not with Maria.
You continued standing until Mapi offered you the bench next to her, and you did so. When you laid eyes on the spanish woman, you noticed her fingers pressing against her own temples, circling fingerprints there.
❝ I'm sorry about them. They are two idiots. ❞ León murmured as she took her fingers back to the bag, closing the zipper.
❝ Alright, no problem. I'm used to it. ❞ You responded with a typical defensive tone, unaccustomed to this type of conversation with her.
Your fingers tapped upper thigh, nervous and anxious, waiting for some miracle.
Momentarily, the spanish woman's brown globes rested on you, followed by a big sigh.
❝ I'm sorry if I'm stupid with you. And it's also bad if I didn't show you the drawings, it's just that— ❞ The defender was interrupted when Patri shouted her name.
❝ Hey, Mapi! ❞ The spanish woman appeared through the door of the main hallway. ❝ Can you check for me if my boots are dropped on the field? ❞
Maria looked at you with a roll of her optics, also accompanied by a tiny and shy smile. ❝ I'll be right back. ❞
The spanish woman slowly went to the gate that connected the changing room and the field, leaving you there freely in the area.
A dead silence remained there, there was no one else but the two of you inside that locker room, and now, only you.
Your body was still warm from training, but it could be for countless reasons, maybe because of your sudden meeting with Mapi, because of the fear of everything that happens in other conversations, happening now.
Eyes slowly took in every detail of the locker room: the ceiling, the floor, all the other stalls and even your bag on the other side.
But your orbs left for your side, where Mapi's unopened bag accidentally was. And of course, the damn sketchbook.
No, no. This is terrible, a lack of privacy. Your desire to leaf through that notebook was greater, but you should be aware.
It was only a matter of time before Mapi came back and finally opened that notebook, there was no point in leafing through it before then.
But despite everything, you were a very, very curious person.
❝ Damn. ❞ You muttered to yourself, intertwining your fingers so that you unconsciously wouldn't reach for the notebook.
But, well... Your eyes darted from side to side, making sure Maria wasn't there.
Your hand rested on the notebook, at the same time your heart accelerated so quickly as a result of your comportment. You should go back.
Slowly, you opened it enough so you could peek at the drawings. Incredibly, they were drawings of outlooks and Mapi's cats.
Despite everything, it wasn't that bad. ❝ Damn. ❞ You mumbled.
Suddenly, a folded sheet of paper fell from the middle of the pages of the notebook, falling to the floor. Your face produced a confused expression until the moment you reached the sheet.
At the same time that you were almost putting the sheet back from where it had fallen, you unfolded it.
Your heartbeat increased from the moment you caught sight of your name written there, along with a drawing of yourself and several doodles in the surrounding area.
Initials together, stick drawings of the two of you together that you were sure Claudia and Ona had scribbled, your name was written in every color there was.
There, maybe you realized why Mapi never showed you the notebook. Why Mapi hated being by your side when she was with the girls.
You could feel your face burn, turning red little by little, until it was like a pepper.
Immediately, you threw your hands up to your face, along with the sheet. You breathed once, twice and three times until you understood the situation.
❝ Shit. ❞ You mumbled to yourself with a muffled tone, still with your face hidden in your hands.
Your body slowly slid down the cabin wall, rethinking all the impressions you always had of Mapi.
You folded the sheet back and hid it in the notebook again.
Suddenly, Maria's figure slowly appeared in the locker room, mainly due to the sound of her footsteps.
Your torso rose, you became so desperate that you completely forgot to let go of the notebook in your hand.
Mapi slowly stopped walking and stopped in the middle of the locker room the moment her eyes fell on your hand with the notebook.
Slowly, her lips opened ready to say something. However, the spanish's internal desperation probably prevented this.
❝ I didn't see anything, I swear. ❞ Was the only thing you could say before throwing the notebook back onto the bench and waving your hands in defense.
Maria completely changed her route, walking quickly towards you. The moment she reached you, the player grabbed your hands and squeezed.
❝ Puedo explicarlo, en serio. ❞ (I can explain it, seriously.) Mapi stuttered between words and even forgot to say them in english.
The spanish woman's face didn't even bother to hide her embarrassment. You could feel the player's fingers trembling and of course, the strong desire to cry.
❝ I thought it was cute. ❞ In the midst of all the tension, these were your stupid words. Giving a short smile, which perhaps calmed León.
❝ What? ❞ Mapi asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
❝ The drawing. ❞
❝ But you said you didn't see anything. ❞ Maybe you didn't expect her to be so naive.
❝ I'm not going to lie, I saw everything. ❞ You answer with a defensive intonation, after all, you had no idea what would happen from now on. ❝ Even those scribbles on the sid— ❞
❝ That was the girls idea. ❞ Mapi justified it so quickly, was probably true.
It was at that moment that you realized that María León was not angry or disgusted with you. Mapi was actually in love with you and was ashamed to admit it.
This all explained the insults and scandals she made whenever the girls played with her. You were the concern of all the jokes.
❝ Right. First breathe. ❞ You advised the spanish girl to calm down, after all, she was shaking more than anything.
❝ Let me explain, please. I don't want you to get it wrong. ❞ Mapi begged to hold an explaination.
❝ Go ahead. ❞
❝ I'm not some kind of stalker, okay? I only drew you because, well… Because I like you and I thought you were pretty. ❞ The defender gets confused in her own words.
You were sure that wasn't what she wanted, Mapi didn't want to confess like that stupid way.
❝ But I completely understand if you think I'm crazy like that... ❞ Mapi slowly closed her eyes, trying to throw all the despair inside. ❝ Dios mío, ¿qué carajo estoy diciendo? ❞ (Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying?)
❝ Hey, it's okay... I guess. ❞ You tried to calm down from the moment you felt León's fingers slowly slip from your hands.
Your mind enfolded the sight of Mapi in front of you, it was the only thing you could pay attention to.
Heart felling affliction, a feeling full of pity for the whole situation that Maria went through made you think a lot.
While you had the wrong impression of her, Mapi couldn't control own feelings.
❝ I don't know what to say about all this. ❞ You produced a sentence where you could try to be understandable with it. ❝ I thought you hated me. ❞
❝ What? Why?! ❞ León was really shocked.
❝ Huh… You always sounded or looked ignorant to me. But it wasn't bad, I had the wrong impression. ❞ Your lips moved automatically, everything you kept about her these two years finally escaped.
Mapi gave a short smile, perhaps your words sounded funny. ❝ Yo nunca debí contarles a Ona y Claudia sobre ti. ❞ (I should never have told Ona and Claudia about you.) The spanish woman muttered to herself, but you still understood.
❝ And now knowing that you like me was such a turning point. ❞ You explained yourself without letting go of Mapi's hands for a second. ❝ By the way, about that… ❞
❝ No need to explain yourself, I'll understand if you don't reply— ❞
❝ No. I want it. I mean, I think you won my heart after seeing your drawings. ❞ Your typical comedic tone caused few laughs between the two of you.
❝ And also, it really hurt me to get the impression that you hated me. I've been making you a fool all this time. ❞ You continued.
Mapi León paid attention to every word that left your lips. There, you noticed how the player stopped shaking and stuttering, finally taking comfort.
❝ No. I understand, I would have that impression too if I saw all of this. ❞
❝ But I hope we can go back and start over from scratch. ❞ You looked for the solution.
Despite everything, Mapi was very understandable with words, she just needed time to express herself.
Suddenly, León's brown orbs looked to the side, perhaps worried about something. ❝ I think we better go, I need to tell Patri about the boots. ❞
Mapi let go of your hands, and for a moment you didn't like that feeling. The spanish woman's fingerprints grabbed the famous intriguing notebook, putting it back in her bag.
Initially she carried the bag on her shoulder, waiting for you to do the same. Your feet lifted and strained toward your own bag, but immediately returned to Mapi's side.
❝ If you want to start from scratch, come with me. I'll stop at a coffee shop before heading home. ❞ León opened a genuine smile, extending her right hand towards you.
You got the signal, and you did it. Your long fingerprints met Mapi's, intertwining them.
❝ Yes, please. ❞
Maybe you should leave everything in the hands of time and, gingerly, the two of you would transform disagreements into affection.
Gradually, your relationship with Mapi stopped being lack of love and became the fruit of devotion. Walking alongside her was the best opportunity for that.
❝ ¡Quiero un frappuccino, por favor! ❞ (I'd like a frappuccino, please!) You used the spanish words that you knew, asking with a great enthusiasm. After all, from now you would use that dialect a lot more.
Really more.
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natsaffection · 5 months
Note
hi 👋 how are you??
im having stressful exams this month, a lot of tough subjects, and i'm so frustrated with it all. could you please share your thoughts on how natty would handle r in a situation like this? maybe in the "my sweet baby" universe??
if you can, thank you so much, my love 💖
Together. | N. Romanoff
Sugar Mommy!Natasha x Sugar Baby!Reader
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warnings: Just fluff🍀🍀
words: 947
A/n: Please take care of yourself if it gets too much, drink cocoa, and do other fun and relaxing things!!☕️
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Now you're sitting in front of it again. One stack after the other, and it just didn't stop?
Why did you decide to do it again? Ah...Right...Future...
You were a bit frustrated, you had imagined your days to be different from sitting in Natasha's living room and cramming for hours. Natasha was also busy with herself in a meeting, and you couldn't help but take a leaf out of her book. Maybe one day you will be as successful as her..Run your own business someday.
CEO Of the L/N Company..Sounds good already....
"What are you thinking about?" As if she knew you were thinking about her right now, Natasha stands in the room and looks at you smiling, you sigh and put the stapler you had in your hand on the table, "Can't I just start with you?" Natasha could hear the frustration in your voice, and when she saw all the paper stuff she knew exactly what you meant. You see her looking at you with an unfamiliar look and suddenly she’s leaving.
She just left, Damn, you did something wrong..Before you could dive further into negative scenarios, she came back and sits down right next to you, "Alright, what are we looking at here?" You looked at her in confusion, "What about your meeting?"
Natasha reached for a stapler that was on the table, "Finished it, you are more important to me than listening to some people who think they can do something better," She looks back at you, "Now let's talk about you. So, what's it about?"
You couldn't help but smile softly. You can already feel the pressure easing a bit, ,,Aspects of human history and experience.“ Natasha flipped through the sheets a bit and as you did, she asked, „What can you think of already?“
Okay, how do you tell her you've just been staring at it so far? „Uhm..“ Natasha put the folder on her knees and this time looks directly at you, „You haven't looked at it yet, have you?“
You sigh again and lean against the couch, „I wonder how you managed to make everything look so easy, Nat. You're rich, you have your own company, and it seems like you don't have to worry about anything..“
Natasha's eyes softened, and she put a hand on your thighs, her voice soft and soothing. „Y/n, it may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you, success did not come on its own. I, too, sat on the floor and studied for hours. I had to deal with countless obstacles, setbacks, and doubts. Getting to where I am now took hard work and determination.“
You continue to look at her, „I know it won't be easy, but sometimes it just feels overwhelming. I want to achieve great things, but the road ahead seems so long..“
Natasha smiled and squeezed your thigh, „I believe in you, Y/n. You have the intelligence, the drive, and the passion. Remember that every little step brings you closer to your goals. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor were successful businesses or successful careers.“ Natasha realized that she was playing to your motivation with her speech, so she took the chance and went right on, „So, can you tell me anything interesting about any of these civilizations yet? Which ones are there, for example?“
Your eyes lit up as you begin to share your knowledge. „Well, the Egyptians, for example, were known for their impressive pyramids, and they believed in the afterlife.. They had intricate burial practices to prepare for the journey to the afterlife.“
Natasha nodded, acknowledging your answer, „That's right. It's fascinating how different societies view life and death. What are the challenges you find in learning about this topic?“
You sighed for the third time now, your frustration evident. „I get overwhelmed by all the dates and names. I feel like there's so much to remember.“
Natasha's voice sounded reassuring. „It's normal for you to feel this way. Let's try to break it down. We'll focus on one civilization at a time and create a timeline. That way it won't feel so scary. Also, I'm here to help you with the names and dates, understand?“
That sounds like a lot of work, you thought to yourself, but not for you, for Natasha, „Nat..Is this really okay that I'm keeping you here like this? you must have-" she interrupted you directly, „Quit that.“ She leans toward you, " „What good does it do me to have you sinking here in front of me, hm? I'd hire someone for you to make your tables and everything you need, so. Carry on.“
You had to smile again and nodded your agreement. At some point you reached a point where Natasha asked, „Let's talk about the ancient Mesopotamian civilizations. What else do you know about them?“
You think for a moment before answering, „They were known for their sophisticated writing system and the Code of Hammurabi, which was one of the earliest law codes.“ Natasha nodded in agreement. „That's right. And what do you know about the Indus Valley civilization?“
You hesitated, struggling to remember the details. „I'm not sure about that.. I think it was an ancient civilization on the Indian subcontinent, but I don't remember much else.“
Natasha smiled, without a hint of frustration in her voice. „ And that's all right, Y/n. The Indus Valley Civilization was actually on the Indian subcontinent, and they had advanced city planning with well-organized cities.“ Natasha notices you drifting off again, and she puts the things aside, „It's normal to forget some details. We'll work on it together.“
You appreciate her patience and support. „Thank you for your understanding, Natasha. Sometimes it's frustrating when I can't remember everything.“ Natasha reassured you, „It's all part of the learning process. We'll take another look at Indus Valley Civilization and make sure you understand it thoroughly.“
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I need a Natasha. 🥲
276 notes · View notes
saiiidahyunee · 4 months
Text
mistletoe
im nayeon x reader ; fluff, suggestive
synopsis: what was the damn golden rule for that small chrismas decoration again?
wc: 2.4k
warnings: cursing ; mentions of alcohol
a/n: finally done with school for the semester so we can breathe :))
nayeon is doing things to me with that first pic idk what to do with myself
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“what do you mean you haven’t kissed her yet?!” 
“not even like a proper first kiss? what is with you y/n?!” 
a harsh groan followed by an audible slam of your rubik's cube paperweight left the comical duo of yerin and jennie taken aback of your sudden surge of anger.
“we’ve only been dating for two and a half months, and talked for almost three months before that. i don’t want to hear it.” you say, defending yourself as jennie and yerin lean back in the seats set across from your desk.
“are you sure you guys haven’t-” 
“nope, absolutely nothing like that at all, childish i know.” you huff out more softly this time, rubbing your forehead from the impounding stress your head was creating. 
“you know, for someone who’s bold enough and managed to get with nayeon, this is a shocker y/n.” jennie quirks, “i expected a whole lot more from you.” 
“ouch.” you say, placing a hand on your chest acting hurt from jennie’s astute observation.
“i’ll think of something you’ll see-”
“hi y/n.”
the three of you instantly look to the right side of your small cubicle to see nayeon standing there wearing a cropped navy blue sweater with wide fitted pants that complimented her lower figure by making her legs longer topped off with huge glasses which she stressed that it was prescription and not for show-but was cute as it fit her personality well. 
“hey nay.” you say as you stood up from your chair, walking toward her for a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek. 
“did you just finish?” 
“mmm, the meeting went a little bit longer than i thought but yeah.” nayeon replies, brushing your cheek with her hand, your face burning up a little from her touch.
“i’ll go grab my stuff and let’s get something to eat.” 
you hummed in response as you waved her off while she walked away, turning back around to see jennie and yerin subtly smirking at what they just watched. 
“that kiss wasn’t for show right?” 
“i’m still not impressed.” 
“another word from you guys and i’ll throw you through the glass.” you retorted as you started to gather your things as jennie and yerin laughed at the more visible highlight of pink spread across your face. 
nayeon wasn’t like most girls that you had a romantic interest in. you thought of her as like a wild card in a random selection or the joker in a simple deck of cards. this didn’t mean she was the last option, no, but it took you a while to grow fondly about everything about her. in reality, she was a really nice person to be around in addition to being a simple and reliable hard worker in the marketing team.
or so you thought when the alcohol got involved. that changed the whole dynamic between you and her. 
after a successful quarter that resulted in smashing the expected quota by over 200%, your boss jihyo suggested a team dinner in celebration of this achievement. everyone in the marketing team recreationally drank, including you, but the more lively ones in the bunch were your boss, jennie, hwasa, chaeyoung, and surprisingly nayeon. 
as the dinner progressed with more orders of food and drinks being taken, the mixture of laughs and party games enveloped the whole table. 
eating, drinking, ordering, repeat. 
eating, drinking, ordering, repeat. 
everyone at the table was already a few shots deep, but the phenomena about your coworkers was always a sight to see. chaeyoung’s concoctions with the soju, jihyo being the life of the party bringing up a new party game each time one would finish, you downing an entire glass of beer in one go leaving the whole group in shock. the list would go on and on.
but in between those lively moments and activities, the conversations were always back and forth across the table, you took this opportunity to get to know nayeon a little bit better who was sitting next to you–even if she was already hammered as it is. 
you were going back and forth with hwasa sitting across from you, arguing about how it was better to have instant noodles on a cold day and drinking an iced americano during summer. nayeon chimed in also to the debate; the cheery and upbright version of her was nonexistent as she let out her more vulgar, wild side with the more alcohol she consumed, the more antsy and physical she got. taking a break as you were about to down another shot of peach soju, you felt her hand on your shoulder as you looked over to her, staring at you. 
huh.
damn. 
was she always this good looking? 
you never saw nayeon this close up until now, but all you could think of was how round her brown eyes were; the way her smile emitted so much happiness that it could instantly charge your phone in five minutes, the way how her hair was slightly disheveled in her perfect wolf cut. her jawline looked insanely sculpted emulating a greek goddess. 
“you good nayeon?” you ask, still holding the full shot glass in your hand.
“i have my eyes on one thing here,” nayeon starts leaning a little more closer, placing a single finger tracing your neck just below your jaw, “you.” 
dropping your head down as you laughed, “you’re drunk, you don’t actually mean that.” 
“but i do.” 
you instantly look back at her, infatuated with her bold comments as she places her head on your shoulder, breathing on your neck, the strawberry scent of soju stifling your ability to speak.
“nay-”
“i like you y/n, i hope we get to know each other more.” 
the alcohol buzzing through your head hindered your ability to think straight as you downed the shot as nayeon returned to her normal sitting position, slapping the glass down on the table, sighing as the laughter popped the imaginary bubble you and nayeon were in. not a moment’s hesitation after, you whipped out your phone and clicked on the phone app, showing nayeon as she immediately took the hint, happily complying by putting her phone number for you, returning the phone back soon after.
“if you’re gonna be bold with your comments like that, how could i not be interested.” you ask her as nayeon laughed, resuming the previous conversation from before. 
not long after a string of hangouts and dates, you eventually muster up the courage to ask her properly about being in a relationship even when you jumbled up the words terribly, nayeon herself was excited to embark on a new adventure with you as her girlfriend. 
“alright everyone, good job today! you all have your assigned tasks for tonight’s christmas party so see you at nayeon’s tonight!” 
the annual christmas party at the end of the year was always a good time, it’s especially better if everything was already planned out and not last minute, but that wasn’t the case since the host was you and nayeon.
while you were wearing a simple santa hat, nayeon went the extra mile and wore a polar bear dress that seemed ridiculous for someone else to wear, but she looked damn good in it. nearly taking about three to four hours setting everything up across the place; red and white streamers draped across the tv shelf and curtains, the christmas tree with various ornaments and sonny angels with the treetop being an origami starlight, food nearly getting ready as you and nayeon shuffled around the house ensuring that everything is set up properly.
once the guests started coming in with their own dishes of food and gifts, the party was finally underway as everyone indulged in their plans for the next weekend or whatnot while the food was being consumed. after, the next portion of games took place with hwasa and jihyo going head to head while playing just dance as everyone gathered around to see who would get five stars from dancing to rasputin.
while everyone was hollering in front of the tv, you went to get changed into a more festive sweater in nayeon’s room. two minutes passed as you returned out to the common area where everyone was at, you notice that nayeon walked up to you from the kitchen, gently nesting her body with yours as she lets the scent of your rose perfume fill her sense of smell. 
“good to see that everyone’s having a good time.” 
“not bad for a last minute preparation.” nayeon replies back to you, kissing your neck softly that leaves you breathless for a second. 
“you haven’t drank anything yet have you?” 
“not yet.” nayeon answers as she faces you, slowly closing the distance as she nudges her nose at you. you giggle at your girlfriend’s sudden rising eagerness. 
“what’s with you today, you’ve been so lovey-” 
“hey y/n! what’s that up there?” you turn over to see jennie take notice of you and nayeon’s moment as you two look up the arching hallway opening  to see a small patch of green hanging over you with a nice bow wrapped around it.
you don’t remember hanging that up there at all.
“jennie you-” 
“guys look who’s under the mistletoe!” jennie yells as everyone turns their attention to you and nayeon were still hugging each other, getting a collection of “oohs” as you and nayeon shyly look away.
“kiss! kiss! kiss!” 
you look at nayeon again who’s blushing immensely, as you look down with the intention of what you needed to do. 
nayeon meets your gaze, her eyes conveying the same message of the shared feelings you and her have for each other as you guys begin to close the distance between your faces-inching more and more as your breaths get tangled and eventually, your lips meet hers.
the first contact sends sparks flying in your brain, her minty breath mixed in with her soft lips would only leave you wanting more. her plump, luscious lips felt like they were the missing piece that you wanted from her for so long, and now you have it. even though it was an instant second of getting lost in the taste buds of her heavenly lips, the moment was short lived only to be brought back to earth by the screaming of everyone that watched you two kiss from the couch. you give her one more peck as she is left speechless as you draw away, winking at her for agreeing with the act.
“i knew you had it in you y/n.” yerin says as you walk to the fridge, giving her a look that only screams, “now that you’ve seen it you can stop bullying me about it.” reaching down to grab two boxes of soju bottles, earning a gasp from everyone in surprise. 
“this is just the start, i got more drinks to get out later, but let's party!!” you yell out as the small crowd cheered in excitement that filling up the house.
the rounds of drinks made their way around everyone and the continuation of energy from the team dinner returned again inside nayeon’s place. jennie and jihyo were the ones who drank the most compared to everyone else, but their alcohol tolerance was strong to the point where they were practically sober, laughing at everyone else as the continued to take shot after shot.
you sat amongst chaeyoung, yerin, hwasa who was sprawled out on the floor, momo who was the new intern brought by jihyo grabbing another bottle of soju, and nayeon who was leaning on your back having a little too much to drink. 
as you were about to get up, nayeon stops you for a second. 
“i need some fresh air y/n.” 
“okay, i’m sweating like crazy in here anyway.” you happily oblige as you help your girlfriend up, heading to the front door and out as the cool air wraps around the two of you.
soon as you close the front door, nayeon jumps at you without warning. the light above turning on capturing the sudden motion before turning off a few seconds later.
“nay, how much have you had to drink?” you ask her as she nuzzled her nose into your exposed collarbone from the oversized sweater you were wearing.
“just enough, but i want another go.” nayeon says as you’re left confused at her open-ended proposition.
“what do you mean another go?” you ask again as she waves her hand up in the air, triggering the light to turn on again. you look up the towering archway of her house to notice a small patch of grass above you–a tiny red bow tied around it; you don’t remember putting that up there either.
before you could say anything as you return your look on nayeon, her lips crash with yours; this time with more assertiveness than the first. in a brief moment of shock, your hands naturally weaved their way on her hip and neck, pulling her closer as the heat between you two gradually grew.
“another go you meant–” you were silenced again as nayeon shuts you up with her lips, making you groan into her mouth as her hands slipped into your hair, keeping your head in place as you push her against the wall. drawing away for a quick breath before going back for more as your mind becomes clearer from the alcohol effects in your brain with every craving kiss exchanged.
the rhythm gets sloppier by the minute as nayeons fingers slither under your sweater, making you shiver from the initial contact. instead of going for another kiss, you plant your lips on her neck, gently nipping away her flawless skin, inducing a soft moan escaping her mouth as she grips your mid back tightly, nearly scratching your skin.
“fuck.” you say breathlessly as you pull away, half-lidded eyes meeting with hers as the two of you catch your breath.
“you’re so pretty.” 
“this was so much better.” nayeon says with more content in her voice, speech still somewhat slurred from the alcohol.
“sucks that i didn’t mark you bad enough though.” you say disappointingly. nayeon bites her finger as she is slightly turned on by your eagerness, the growing heat between you two overpowering the brisk cold outside the house.
“you can definitely make it up to me later y/n.”
“how much later are we talking?”
“let’s kick everyone out of the house first and then we’ll have our fun.”
271 notes · View notes
Note
Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx
Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
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Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader
wc: 4,600
Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.
Enjoy this garbage!
Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college. 
As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way. 
It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars. 
Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time. 
“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.” 
You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson. 
“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”
“Don’t be crass.”
“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe. 
Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”
The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.
Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind. 
Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.
It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.
When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.
Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.” 
You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.
“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”
“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”
Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest. 
Her hands—
Her hands—
What is wrong with you, Joe?
Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin.  Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep. 
Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains. 
“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued.  The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before. 
The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.
As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.
Right in front of you! What is going on?
“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”
Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.
There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”
About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags. 
Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off. 
Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.
“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.
“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear. 
When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world. 
You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”
You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.
The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.
“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.” 
“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”
“Ouch, that hurts me.”
“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right. 
“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.” 
Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”
“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.” 
Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout. 
Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”
“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”
“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.
He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you.  He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too. 
His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”
“Then who else would I be?” 
“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious. 
“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him. 
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”
“You too are good friends then?”
“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape. 
“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.
Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”
“None of the girls from high school? Never?”
“Not one.”
You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do. 
People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”
“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt. 
“Can I walk you home?”
“I would love that.”
Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?” 
“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him. 
“His parents remind me of my own.”
Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”
“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”
“Hey now,”
“Sorry.” You take his hands.
He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” 
Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.
When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”
“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”
The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away. 
He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.
Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. 
His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse. 
Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it. 
Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.
You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”
“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”
“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.
“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”
You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.
After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak. 
“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in. 
“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”
“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.
Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”
“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”
“I know.
“Really?”
“Pocock made sure I know.”
The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”
“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”
You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat. 
You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist. 
“Can I—may I kiss you?”
Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart. 
“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”
...
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.
-the author
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bl3ss3dbyt1amat · 2 months
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misc bg3 companion hc
this is so much. i have no idea and im also sorry. all of the origin companions included under the cut
astarion:
i feel like he claps funny. like hes clapping but its that specific way thats meant to be like quieter? like clapping on the palm of his hand. this might be projection but i feel like hes also the type of person to do like a little clap or a spin or his trademark ridiculous giggle whenever hes happy.
i think that hes prone to dramatics like. like pretending to fall on the floor and die if you say hes actually not on your mind 24/7. oh whats that? you dont think im the prettiest princess in the entire world? well astarion has dramatically fallen to the floor
in the early game astarion most definitely practiced his lines loudly and publicly (in camp). he cant even see himself in the mirror but hes trying to look all suave and being like "shall i compare thee to a summers night" while lae'zel and shadowheart both shout "NO" from across the camp. (can be interpreted as bloodiedblade/wyllstarion but i think wyll would be amused and even finish the quote).
wyll:
this man is probably good with basic medicines and ill die on this hill. hes got aloe vera type shit on him at all times. sure, hes not a cleric or healer or even a bard, but he'll stay with you and try his damned best to cheer you up when youre hurt or sick.
on a related note i feel like wyll would be absolutely DELIGHTED by a bard tav. he would just be so amused and filled with whimsy. never gonna complain about playing, even if its like 2am. just occasionally putting in song requests. hes so incredibly enthusiastic like spinning tav around like "THAT WAS BRILLIANT!!!"
wyll probably keeps houseplants. (minor blazingblade but i feel like karlach would accidentally kill one of the plants and actually begin weeping. once she gets her engine fixed wyll tries to teach her how to garden. this goes weirdly) furthermore i think he like goes around his house like humming merrily and watering his plants and crap
gale:
i dont think hes coordinated at all. like this man is tripping down the stairs on a daily basis. he is dropping his tea, his book, his body, ect. to the point that hes got a habit of just hugging the railing for dear life every time he has to go down a staircase. this made traversing shit like the underdark actually literally horrible. every time he falls karlach is so overly concerned and probably offers to carry him. astarion, to everyones dismay, dies laughing each and every time
pretty sure wyll and shadowheart have a conversation about weird book porn. i am here to say that gale was holding back his power while that conversation happened. gale has read so much book porn and if you knew the real scale of it you would be concerned. tara is concerned at least.
shadowheart:
especially during early game, i feel like shadowheart was literally clenching so hard to avoid admitting cute things were cute. like "oh.. a stray mutt... charming I MEAN IN LIKE A GROSS WAY". she was trying to hard to be all scary and into shar and shit but she just really likes puppies and other animals and crap
if she were modern i feel like she would really like pixar movies (inside out comes to mind for reasons i cannot explain) and wear long jean skirts. i cant explain any of this but it is fact in my mind. even in the bg3 setting i do feel like she would wear very long boxy type skirts. sort of plays into her whole "dark priestess" sort of vibe
shadowheart was sitting in her tent with scissors fucking losing her shit with anxiety trying to cut her own bangs without a mirror. it is a literal miracle from selune that they dont look like complete and total shit. no wonder halsin was surprised. (minor silverheart/shadow'zel: when she first like actually properly noticed what shaodwheart did with her hair, since the initial joke is she cant tell what changed, i think lae'zel was very impressed. she even likened it to like a sort of war paint against shar. also we KNOW lae'zel likes silver)
(can be interpreted as bladeheart/,,, do wyll and shadowheart have a ship name yet? HM. well anyway i think that in conjunction with the previous headcanon about wyll gardening, he and shadowheart garden together and he specially grew her night orchids)
lae'zel:
ever since i looked at her stupid little mindflayer training dummie in camp ive had the image of her in my head very angrily and intensly carving up a turnip to look like a mindflayer. draws a little mean face on it like the worlds most violent six year old. every time she messes up on her little DIY project shes muttering curses in tir'su.
lae'zel will take any opportunity to infodump about githyanki culture. specifically red dragons. if she met a red dragonborn or even maybe a follower of tiamat or some shit she would be so hype. in her "i hate everyone SVAH" way ofc. but like. trying to casually slide trivia into battle conversation or party banter with all the subtlety of an owlbear. "yes... the battle preparations are proceeding as expected... as expected a red dragons hibernation cycle..." and everyone just has to turn their head and ask what the fuck shes talking abt
(can be thought of as silverweave: lae'zel and gale talk in draconic about dragon history and the celestial plane. hes so tickled to have a mutual interest with lae'zel)
no one hears lae'zel laugh but when they do its so weird. like its some weird like hissing sort of sound and everyone has to do a double take and make sure theyre understanding what the fuck is going on for a second. lae'zel is incredibly defensive when people notice it but theyre not trying to be mean
karlach:
before her engine gets fixed but like early on to where shes not used to it, karlach keeps trying to touch things and keeps breaking them. this fills her with genuine despair and she will start crying (everyone in camp has to go on a group effort to calm her down). she just thinks the world is so beautiful and is so sad she cant interact with it
she likes to dance but in like a boot stompin way. karlach is probably just an absolute party animal when she gets her freedom back because honestly in her situation who wouldnt be. SHE JUST GOT TO NOT BE ON FIRE LET THE GIRL PARTY
once shes been fixed to the point where she can touch people, she just never stops. manhandling everyone in the party constantly. oh whats that? tav is on low health? dont worry karlach is sprinting over to put tav on her shoulder. literally any problem can be solved by karlach hugs and i wont be taking feedback on this
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m0ther-of-p3arl · 5 months
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ok so. obvs i love owengejuicetv- everything he does, everything he makes. its in the blog title. i am The biggest ojtv enjoyer who is primarily on tumblr.
but.
listen. new life is great, and outsiders is phenomenal, and rats is silly and pirates is fun- but peak owen is his hardcore world.
i was there in may when he was rushing to get the end project done, i was there when he finished it, so maybe im biased. but fucking hell. i get so nostalgic for those days whenever he does hardcore like much as i love everything owen does i would not be completely devastated if the timeline got reset and he Only did hardcore
with the exception of Outsiders because outsiders is fucking based and we should keep it around forever (i know its already finished im in denial)
and listen. i genuinely love everything owen makes. i do! its super well-done and impressive but just the hardcore vibes are always immaculate and it's so cozy and it's so damn nostalgic like oh my god i love it so much
anyway
thank you for coming to my ted talk *bows and walks offstage*
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alexa-fika · 1 month
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Threats for One (Crocodile x Pigeon!reader)
Pt1, Pt2
Doflamingo Version
A/N Guys I have been COOKING in this series 🫦🫦, I really love this series and writing more for it but I have no idea what I can keep adding, I don’t want it to be repetitive either. Like I said I really love writing this series or this type of content that is darkish? The type that makes your stomach flutter, so if you have any requests or ideas please let me know 👀 🔪
Dividers by @/saradika
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Crocodile sat in his office looking through paperwork until the door slammed open and a hand slammed down in said papers
“I finished your delivery, now give me the antidote,” they sneer
Crocodile stares at them as they slam the door. His stoic expression shifts to an expression of amusement as a smirk spreads across his lips. He remains silent for a moment, staring at them before chuckling to himself
“You’re a feisty one, I give you that… But, that is quite all right. I expected a bit of resistance from you; I will be honest; I was prepared for you to be a bit more of a handful.” He says with a mocking grin upon his scarred face
“Sit down.”
“To hell with that; I did your damn delivery, so give me the antidote.”
“I said you would get the antidote if you did the delivery; I never specified that you would get the antidote immediately. Now sit.”
They growl, pulling out a small dagger and swiftly slashing it over the stacks of papers he had been previously working on, effectively cutting the stack in half
“Give me the antidote, Crocodile, im not playing this damn twisted game with you.”
The stacks of paper collapse to the floor, but the smile on Crocodile’s face remains, albeit it has turned into something darker, more twisted. He eyes them, slowly and steadily standing up.
“So you’ve taken to threats to get what you want?” He draws a long puff of smoke from his cigar as he talks
“Hm, a bold and violent pigeon…, a rather unique specimen you are.” Crocodile walks around the desk, keeping a close eye on them.
“You must understand, Reader, you are an asset to me, one I can’t lose, right?
“Quite the way you treat your assets.”
“Do you think I’ve treated you badly so far?” He questions mockingly
“Perhaps, but only because a bit of rough handling was required on your end in order for you to understand your place.” He states, circling around them
“But in my opinion, I’ve been rather fair to you, even giving you a diluted antidote in good faith in order for you to get in line.”
“My place? You still seem to be under the impression that I am a mere employee and can’t seem to grasp the fact that I don’t work for you; I am not one of your underlings.”
“It seems we are at an impasse. I see myself as your employer and the Cross Guild as your job, and you seem to see yourself as a freelance worker,” Crocodile says as he circles around them until they are behind them
“A pigeon whose wings I can hold ransom and use to my advantage. Is that not what you are to me? And is it not fair that I’m asking you to be a simple messenger for me?” He says, letting out another puff of smoke as Reader turns around to face him
“I’d say it is a very fair arrangement, Reader. I just expect you to do what you are told; not that difficult, is it?”
“Just give me my damn antidote; find yourself some idiot willing to fall for that crap.”
“Is that really how you think this works? That I would just hire some random idiot to take over your deliveries?” He said, shaking his head
“You are rather mistaken; you have a good track record, no issues with deliveries, and I rather like the idea of having such messenger being one of a kind. That is why I need you. Start listening and sit down,” he said, holding the vial at arm’s length
“Or should I show you what would happen otherwise?” he said, bellowing a thick cloud of smoke
“Ne, Reader, are you sure you want to risk it, hmmm?”
They stared at the antidote hanging from his hands, a slip away from falling and, with it all chance of returning their wings to normal
Crocodile looks at them, the smirk and teasing glint in his eyes fading; instead, a serious, stern expression appears in its place.
“If you value those wings of yours at all, you’ll sit down and behave.”
There is a heavy, thick tension in the air as he keeps the antidote just out of their grasp.
“Sit. Down”
They glance desperately at the antidote
“I-I’m the only one of my kind. You destroy that, and you destroy your so-called asset; your deliveries would be canceled or delayed if we’re being hopeful,” they nervously try to reason
Crocodile lets out a chuckle as they talk
“I think you underestimate my influence. I do admire your sense of self-preservation… and the way you just attempted to use it as a bargaining chip, but you have to understand, Reader, what makes you think you are so irreplaceable?” he says as he continues to keep the antidote juts out of their grasp, dangling it in his fingers
“Losing you would delay deliveries, and some bounties and payments would be likely lost, but I would be able to find a replacement, less efficient and slower, but a replacement nonetheless,” he grumbles, lifting one finger of the vial
“Sit… down…”
“Okay! Okay!” They said, slumping down in the chair
“Please, just don’t destroy it; I need my wings back.”
“Finally, a bit of reason…” a slight smirk on his face slowly growing as he sees them comply.
“Now relax; a bit of trust and compliance can take us a long way,” he says taking a seat in his chair once again, staring at the fuming pigeon in front of him
“But this time, you are on a short leash. There will be none of that nonsense again; you are to do as you are told, is that clear, Reader?” he said gingerly, placing the vial on the table next to him, enough to be tauntingly close to them but far enough to be out of their reach
They glance at the vial, not taking their eyes off it as they speak
“Short leash?” They scoff
“You have me on a short leash already, you damn asshole; you gave me a diluted antidote and a time limit to come back.”
“There is a reason for that, little pigeon,” he responds to their scoff, a sadistic grin on his face
“It’s to ensure you come back in a manner that doesn’t involve me ripping your wings off and handing them to you; after all, you could decide to run off as soon as you get your antidote.”
“Besides, it’s only a few hours. Surely an experienced messenger such as yourself is capable of delivering such a simple package in that time frame?”
“You know what im also capable of doing?”
Crocodile’s expression remains unchanged as they continue to talk
“Enlighten me pigeon. What else are you capable of? Do you think you’ll be able to threaten me?”
“Im capable of using that timeframe to fly myself to a navy base; better yet, I could make one final stretch to make it to Marineford, maybe call for a buster call, im sure they will agree, seeing as three former warlords reside in it sending bounties for them”
Crocodile’s smile grows, growing dangerous as the second tick by
He leans back in his chair, taking a long drag from his cigar
“Hm, you are truly unpredictable, and that is very concerning. It seems, that you are going to be a lot more annoying than I already anticipated,” he mutters, letting slip a rather annoyed sigh.
“Try me.”
Crocodile stares at them with a smug, almost mocking grin, his cold eyes looking them up and down.
“Go ahead, go on ahead and try pigeon. I dare you to run off.”
A malicious smirk begins to spread across his face at the thought of them trying to run off
“We both know I’ll just catch up to you in a heartbeat and tear your wings off and string them to my belt before the Marines could even finish blinking.
Do you really not trust me not to have a contingency plan for any attempt to run off? Are you so confident in your ability to outrun me that you would wager your very wings?”
“You can’t be over me 24/7, Crocodile; perhaps I'll just take a detour in one of your deliveries to visit the good ol marines,” they taunt
“Hm, you sure have gained a rather large ego from a minimal amount of independence, Reader; such a shame…” he sighs, shaking his head like a disappointed parent
“You can try to make a detour at the marine base; I’d even welcome it; it gives me more of a reason to teach you your place.” Crocodile’s grimace darkens as he continues
In the blink of an eye, Crocodile had removed the hook and revealed the sharp knife that lay underneath, the blunt weapon now resting in Reader’s neck, tilting up the weapon and forcing them to move along with the knife to avoid getting nicked by the blade
“Or perhaps I should show you another lesson to help with your compliance?”
They glanced down at the knife pointed at them, attempting to back away from it, only to be stopped by a pillar of sand behind them, preventing any escape from the current threat
“There appears to be a slight misunderstanding here, little pigeon…
“You seem to believe you have the ability and the choice to escape? No, no, no, I’m in no mood to let that happen right now. he said as he pressed the sharp blade just a bit harder into their throat, causing a small red drop of blood to fall and roll down to the table
“I’ve entertained this game of yours…, but I fear it has gone on long enough little pigeon.”
“Then give me the antidote, and I’ll be off,” they mutter, wincing at the feeling of the dagger piercing their skin
A look of annoyance, mixed with boredom, fills his eyes as he looks over them
“I do Applaud your attempt, but do you really believe I’d make it that easy for you to gain the item you desire and run away in hopes of never having to serve me again?
Unfortunately, that is simply not how it works, little pigeon; you are a prized possession and asset of mine now. I’m afraid we will have to spend time with this arrangement for a while longer,” he said, grinning once again as he continued leaning closer to Reader as they tried to back away from him, stopped by the pillar of sand
“Truth of the matter is, I don’t trust you, little pigeon. And I don’t plan on letting you get too far off into our game.”
They glare at him, quickly running out of ways to defend their case and obtain their antidote, and both of them were highly aware of who had the winning hand
“Not so eager, are we, little pigeon? What happened to that bravery of yours? That defiance of running away to the Marines.” he smirked
“Let me give you a little tip: sometimes compliance just ends up being the simpler solution to a complex problem… and the easier path is almost always the preferable one,” he said, leaning back against his chair once again, putting their hook back over their dagger the sand pillar behind Reader slowly crumbling to the ground, he swiftly threw a vial and a pack of posters in their direction
They grunted as they easily caught the items
“That’s what I like to see, little pigeon, compliance.” Crocodile’s eyes narrowed once again, the smirk on his face growing wide
“That dilution should be enough to lift the poison for a few hours so that you can deliver those new bounties to the civilians in the neighboring islands.”
They grit their teeth, standing and heading for the door, only to be stopped as Crocodile calls for them once again
“What.” They growl
“Next time you try to pull off something like this again, I will be taking that tongue of yours, so be smart and keep it in your mouth rather than spouting nonsense that will only bring you more punishments.”
They tighten their fists but continue walking, only to once again be stopped by a pillar of sand; they glance back at the perpetrator of their blocked exit
“Am I being Clear?”
“Yes,” they hiss
“Now let me do my job.”
“Seems my ears are failing me. Would you repeat that? Am I being clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
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I was thinking of maybe Mihawk appearing on the next part bur idk cause my head is empty so if y’all have any ideas or suggestions on what could happened then maybe I can write another part with mihawk??
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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