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#he knows the right thing to say to cheer her up when she feels bad about snapping at grover
vikkirosko · 9 hours
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Hi! I really love your work. Like man you have me kicking my feet like I'm 12 again.
Anyway to the point, I was wondering if I could request a Cubby Reader with insecurities and how each chatcter would handle that. (Lucifer, Vox, Asmodeus + Fizzi, Emily and any other you might want to inculde) It's my first time ever requesting something, I hope I did it right.
Thanks you so much, and again I really love your fics.
Headcanons Self-doubt
🖥 Vox x Reader 📱
You have worked for Vox for a long time and often you have worked with him, as well as with Velvette and Valentino. Despite this, you were quite insecure in yourself and because of this you had problems. Vox knew you better than the others, because you were dating, and he knew what you could really be in a comfortable company, and therefore he helped you feel more confident
Vox often rebuked his friends when they said rude things about you, covering it up with a joke. He knew that you could take their words to heart and he wouldn't be surprised if that was their goal. That's why he acted as your protector, knowing that you needed help sometimes
He saw how confident you were when you were alone. You were open and confident when you spent time together. He tried to help you behave as confidently with the others as when you were alone, but so far you haven't had much success
Vox knew that he couldn't be with you all the time, so he tried to help you become more confident and be able to defend your views. You were in Hell, which meant that you needed fortitude and self-confidence if you didn't want everyone to take advantage of your insecurity
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍
Lucifer and you met at the hotel. He saw that you were uncomfortable talking to him and he thought that the reason for this was that you were afraid of him. However, everything turned out to be wrong. From his daughter, he learned that you were quite insecure and because of this it was difficult for you to communicate with strangers. That's why you were so nervous when you talked to him
Watching you, Lucifer realized that you were a really good person. He saw how you sincerely smiled at your friends and helped them. Charlie and Vaggie cheered you up, which made your self-confidence grow. He tried to get along with you at the request of his daughter, and the more you talked, the more open and confident you became. You were changing right before his eyes and he liked to see you confident in yourself
Lucifer has started to help you become more confident. He praised your work, supported you and reminded you how wonderful you were. He wanted you to see yourself the way he saw you and realize that even if someone says bad things about you, they weren't right
The King of Hell knew well what it was like to lose self-confidence. He remembered how he felt when his dreams crumbled to dust. Lucifer didn't want you to go through this, so he tried to help you become more confident. He was sure that through the joint efforts of you and your friends, your confidence could become stronger
👁 Emily x Reader ✨️
Emily did a lot for others. She sincerely wanted to make others happy, including you. You were one of the people closest to her and she truly cherished you. You were kind, attentive and caring, but you were insecure, which caused difficulties in your life
Emily knew you had a lot of potential. You could do a lot of things and you had wonderful talents, but you doubted it. At such moments, Emily would vividly remind you that you were really wonderful and that you were talented. She was ready to shout about it to convince you of it and protect you if someone said something bad about you
Emily helped you become more confident in yourself. She came up with different exercises that you did together so that you would believe in yourself and your strength. Most of the time, these were verbal exercises, but they were also important so that you would doubt yourself less. Seeing how every day you become more confident in yourself, she couldn't help but rejoice
Emily sincerely cherished you and wanted you to be happy. She was trying to help you. Emily wanted to see how you courageously communicated with others, how you defended your opinion and were not shy about sharing your ideas. She knew that it was still a long way off, but she intended to continue to help you
🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕
Fizzarolli and Asmodeus knew that you were insecure. You were cozy and caring, but because of your self-doubt, you couldn't be as brave as Fizzarolli and even more so Asmodeus. That's why they tried to be there for you to remind you how wonderful you were
You and Fizz often spent time together. He was preparing for the performance and you were cheering him on. At such moments, he returned compliments to you. When Ozzie had free time, he would join you and help Fizz make you think better of yourself. Asmodeus saw that it made your life difficult, so he supported Fizz when he tried to help you become more confident in yourself
They both knew that you had many wonderful qualities, but you didn't seem to notice it. You tried to fight your self-doubt and were grateful to them for trying so hard to help you. You really appreciated it
You cherished Fizz and Ozzie and their support. They were the most important people to you and you really became more confident around them. You were ready to move mountains for them. To support and protect them, you were ready to become much more confident in yourself
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to-be-a-dreamer · 4 months
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No, because I've already talked about this to the Discord besties but I'm still vibrating over the fact that Percy didn't just sacrifice himself for Annabeth, he outsmarted her. He tricked her into letting him be the one to stay behind that's such an amazing detail
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steviesbicrisis · 6 months
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A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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a-aexotic · 1 year
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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
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You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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you’re watching the maury show on your computer when katsuki marches into your room without a word and flops down next to you on your bed.
“ hello to you, too.” you snort. his words are muffled by your sheets but you’re about 90% sure he told you to shut up, you ignore it.
he lays face down on your bed for a while not saying anything and you know he’s had a long day and wants to be close to you without actually talking. you don’t mind, you’ll give him his space until he reaches out himself.
and he does after a little bit, turning his head around to face you as he looks from you to your computer screen, eyes focusing on the woman screaming that the man she cheated on her husband with was 100% not the father of her baby, mixed with the cheers of the audience.
he looks at you and raises a brow “ what’s happenin ?”
“ lady cheated on her husband with his brother.” you respond.
“ his brother ?” he repeats. his eyebrows furrow and you know he’s hooked. if there’s one thing katsuki loves but will never admit he does, it’s trash tv.
you nod, grinning somewhat evilly “his brother. now they’re trying to find out which one’s the father.”
he hums, scooting himself closer to you so he can see the screen too. he flips himself around so his neck isn’t craned at that awkward angle anymore and settles himself down right next to you. hook, line and sinker.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder and shoves his head in your neck, breathing you in. you both don’t say anything. “do you want me to play it from the beginning for you ?” he shakes his head in your neck. you reach your hand up to scratch at his scalp and you smile when he sighs. he holds you a little tighter, pressing feather light kisses into your neck.
katsuki’s never been good at expressing himself with any other emotion that isn’t anger. it makes him feel stupid and weak and soft. he’s had a long fucking day and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, simply wanting to indulge in you but he can’t tell you that, can’t find the words to, so he tries to find other ways to tell you and he hopes you understand and you do.
katsuki’s thankful for you because sometimes he wants to talk, wants to open up about what’s bothering him but sometimes he doesn’t. he doesn’t and you don’t pry when you know he doesn’t and he’s so thankful for you. he presses kisses on your skin and soft bites at your flesh to convey just how thankful he is, how grateful he is for having you. he hopes every warm press of his lips against your skin can convey how much he loves you loving him. and it does, because you turn your head and kiss the side of his head so sweetly and he knows you’re it for him.
he’ll tell you all of this one day, he promises. he’ll tell you all the thoughts swimming around in his head one day, but he hopes this’ll do for now. and unknowingly to him, it absolutely does.
he pulls his head out of your neck and kisses you hard on the cheek one, two, three times and you giggle. you feel him smile into your cheek when he kisses you a fourth time.
“fuck’re they screamin’ about ?” he says and you turn to look back at the screen. the woman is yelling at her husband’s brother vehemently denying the possibility of him being her baby’s father. you feel a little bad for laughing. “ she says he’s not the dad” you answer.
he clicks his tongue “ why the fuck is she on the show then.” he says, turning his attention back to your computer but his grip on you stays secure. you press yourself a little closer to him.
you’re still smiling lightly when you look back at your screen, simply shrugging. “ she said something about her having more sex with her husband than with him.” you answer and he snorts.
“ ten bucks neither one of them’s the father.”
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dev1lm4n · 11 months
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moth to flame
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ko-fi | series masterlist
pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader
summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.
word count: 3.9k
warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned
notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!
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Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.
She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.
She’s a cute kid, you decided. 
You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.
It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?
You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒
“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”
The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.
“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”
Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.
“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”
At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.
“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”
He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.
“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.
“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”
That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.
“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”
The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.
“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”
“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
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“I’m home.”
Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.
“Oh! You’re here!”
You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.
“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”
You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.
A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.
You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.
“What’re you up to all evening?” 
His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.
“Studying.”
“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”
No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Think so,” you hummed softly.
“Poor thing.”
Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.
A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.
You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.
Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.
You didn’t want him to stop.
You wanted him to touch you more.
To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.
To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.
You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.
“You feel better?”
When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.
“Yeah. Much better.”
“Good then, kiddo.”
The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.
“I’m not a kid.”
“No?”
He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.
“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.
“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”
“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”
The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.
It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.
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As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.
“What are you cookin’ up?”
You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.
“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”
It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.
“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.
“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”
You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.
A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.
A sharp sting shot through your hand.
Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.
“Shit..”
Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.
However, fate had other plans in store.
“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”
You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you. 
He was your drug.
One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.
With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.
His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.
The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead. 
“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”
“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.
“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”
What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.
“Of course, Mr. Miller.”
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The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?
With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door. 
If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you. 
Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.
Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.
He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.
His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.
He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.
In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.
With bated breath, he continued to observe.
Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.
This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.
His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.
Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.
“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.
Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.
“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.
Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?
“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.
He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.
“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”
Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.
Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.
Cock sore and in need of relieving.
Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock. 
The video you're watching to get yourself off.
They were his.
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in-my-feels-probably · 8 months
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slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?
Slytherin Boys as Dads
Request: slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?
Hi! So sorry for the wait, this one took me a while for some reason. I was kinda vague with these, but hopefully you like them. Thank you for the request :)
(Warnings: mentions of bad home lives, insecurity, let me know if i missed anything)
Theodore Nott:
deathly afraid of being anything like his own family or father. he’d be a little apprehensive about having kids in the first place, but he’d eventually be more open to the idea once you promised to be there every step of the way and take things slow. 
the proudest dad ever. the type of dad to clap and cheer once they use the bathroom on their own for the first time. he literally wouldn’t care (within reason) how good they’re doing at a sport or in school, he’s just proud that they’re putting in effort.
he’s got a short temper. i think he’d get a little snappy, and then immediately regret it once the tears started or they got angry and snapped back. he’d put on a brave face in the moment, but he’d for sure cry about it later to you.
he has such a way with words, and he’s so imaginative. they’d ask him kid shit that makes no sense, and he’s just deadpan answering them without hesitation. and it would be like that even when the kids were grown and moving out of the house. he just knows the right thing to say.
wouldn’t want a lot of kids. he’s too easily overwhelmed, and although he’s got the love to go around, he just can’t stomach the idea of being responsible for that many lives. one or two is enough for him, and he’d love them with all of his heart.
Every milestone your little girl met had Theo in shambles. No matter how big or small, he treated every single one of them like she had cured cancer or won an Olympic gold medal. When she started growing more independent and wanting to do things on her own, it wasn’t any different.
Theo came into your room after saying goodnight to your daughter, tears welling in his eyes. 
You stumbled out of bed to approach him, holding him steady by his shoulders when he wavered. “What happened? Are you alright, love?”
“She made her own bed,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “She didn’t want me to tuck her in. She said she wanted to try doing it on her own this time. And she did it so well.”
You could feel your heart warm, wrapping your arms around Theo’s shoulders. You gently rocked him back and forth, running your hand through his hair. He pulled back, quickly wiping under his eyes.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s just so smart.”
“Don’t be sorry, love. Just wait till she gets to Hogwarts. She’ll be top of her class, just like her Dad was.”
Your words sent him spiraling again, his cheeks paling. You chuckled, bringing your hand up to hook a finger under his chin, turning him to look at you. You spoke gently, giving him a warm smile.
“But that’s not for a long time. We’ve still got years with her before she does something substantial for us to fawn over her for. Let’s not worry about it yet.”
Theo groaned, shaking his head. “I’m always worried.”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the faint thump of his heart.
“Did you ever see this coming for us?” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Back at Hogwarts, I can remember wanting a life with you. But this isn’t what I was picturing. I used to not even want kids—Merlin, how could I have not wanted kids?”
You shrugged, closing your eyes and breathing him in. “I always knew you would be a good Dad. I pictured some sort of family with you.”
Before Theo could respond, your little girl came around the corner into your room, immediately running for Theo’s leg. She wrapped herself around him, playfully hanging from his pant leg.
“What are you doing out of bed, silly girl?” You asked, bending down to scoop her up.
“I have a question,” she babbled, absentmindedly reaching her hand up to squeeze your nose.
You laughed, passing her over to Theo. “Ask your Dad. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”
She wrapped her arm around Theo’s neck, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Theo looked down at her adoringly, patiently waiting for her to ask her question. 
“Why can’t I see my eyes? I can see your eyes and Mum’s eyes, but not mine. Why?”
You had to stifle a giggle, turning your face so your little girl wouldn’t see you laughing. But when you looked back up, Theo was just smiling down at her, like it was the most normal thing she had said to him all day. 
“I’ll tell you, and then it’s off to bed with you, darling,” he explained, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You see with your eyes—through your eyes. That’s why you can’t normally see them themselves. But technically, you can see your eyes. Do you want me to show you, pretty girl?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding excitedly. Theo grinned, chuckling as he looked over at you. He nodded towards the bathroom where the mirror was, shifting your little girl on his hip. 
“I’ll be right back,” he said to you, before whisking your daughter off to the bathroom.
They giggled together all the way down the hall.
Lorenzo Berkshire:
the sweetest most dedicated man in the early stages. he would NEVER let you do more work than him. you’re not climbing up high, you’re not lifting something heavy, you’re not doing anything that keeps you on your feet. he’s BOLTING to beat you to it.
would give no fucks about gender. i think he’d absolutely adore having a little girl, but a boy is just as good. because he’d get to raise him up into a man the both of you are proud of.
gets overwhelmed easily for sure. would absolutely stress about not doing enough or upsetting the kids, and you’d have to remind him that he’s an incredible dad, and how he’s only human. making mistakes is gonna happen, there’s nothing you can do but keep going and try your best.
100% going all out for any sport/extracurricular they get involved in. he’s their number one fan.
probably the gentler parent. he’d try his best to be stern with them, but he just doesn’t have it in him to upset them. tears would literally break his heart, so you’d probably have to take on the more serious role.
You had two kids with Enzo, a girl and a boy. They adored their father—as they should. He was sweet and loving and hardly ever said no. But that was the problem…he hardly ever said no. 
And it got the best of him today.
The kids came bursting through the door, running into the kitchen with Enzo hot on their heels. He was carrying bags from the new toy store in Diagon Alley, a distressed look on his face as your children ran up to you to show you their new toys. You gave them a tight smile, faking enthusiasm.
“Very cool! How about we help Dad take them to your rooms, yeah? You need to eat before you play with them.”
“No,” your little boy whined, trying to dig in the bags Enzo was struggling to carry. “I wanna play now!”
Enzo let out a sigh, his voice strained. “Listen to your Mother—”
“We wanna play!” Your little girl screamed, her little cheeks flushing.
She turned around to root through the bags with her brother, when one ripped and the toys clambered to the floor. They scattered, and Enzo finally reached his limit. 
“That’s it!” He shouted, hoisting the bags up to set them on the countertop where they couldn’t reach. “That’s enough. You’re going to eat your dinner, and you’re never allowed to yell at your Mother again! Do you both hear me?”
Your kids stopped in their tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. He might as well have slapped them—that was how they were looking up at him. Like he had hurt them worse than he ever had before. They were being dramatic, of course. You had scolded them far worse than that in their lives. But Enzo was never one to yell. He hardly ever raised the voice around the kids, it hurt him too much to do it. You looked up from their faces to Enzo’s.
And the look on his face was heartbreaking.
“I’m sorry,” Enzo stuttered out, unable to say anything else.
You could tell he felt terrible. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands were shaking at his side. You quickly scooped the toys off the floor, shoving them back into their bags. You bent down to speak to your children, grabbing each of their hands.
“Alright…everyone breathe. You two, I’m going to take you to your rooms. I expect you to be ready for dinner in ten minutes. And if you behave—and you apologize to your Dad and I for not listening to what we asked you to do—we’ll let you open up a few toys and play with them later. Your Dad was very nice to get you all of these things, and you both need to act like it.”
Your little ones looked up at the both of you, batting their eyes. You could feel your anger slip away as they watched you, their little cute faces scrunching up. 
It wasn’t fair—they were too adorable to be mad at.
“We’re sorry, Mum,” your little girl said.
Your boy nodded. “Yeah, we’re sorry Dad. We didn’t mean to yell.”
“I know, my loves,” you smiled, squeezing their hands. “Neither did Dad. It’s alright…everyone is just a little tired. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Keep that attitude up, and your Dad and I will be happy to play with you after dinner.”
Your children giggled and ran off to their rooms with bright smiles on their faces, like nothing had happened at all. 
Your husband, however, was steel reeling. As soon as they were out of the room, you turned to him. His face was full of regret, his eyes sad. You frowned, opening your arms.
“Come here, sweet boy,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You did so good. You’re okay.”
“I didn’t mean to yell,” he choked out into your shoulder, holding you tight.
You just shook your head, shushing him. “You had every right to. I love them to death, but they can be brats—and they know their Dad loves them too much to tell them no. You saw them, Enzo. They’ve already gotten over it. Don’t beat yourself up over this, love.”
Enzo sniffled into your shoulder. You held him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth as he leaned into you. It was quiet while you looked over his shoulder to the bags still on the counter, toys spilling out of the top of them.
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re such a good Dad. They’re gonna be glued to you for weeks after they open all of those.”
“I’m sorry you had to take the lead. I should be better at this by now. I just can’t handle it when they look at me like that.”
You heard a clattering, and looked over to see your kids in the next room, politely sitting at the table. They were giggling to themselves, on their best exaggerated behavior so that they could earn back time with their toys. It was adorable, and it brought a smile to your face. You looked up to see Enzo smiling as well, despite his anxiousness.
“How do they look now?” You asked, reaching for his hand. “Because to me, it looks like they’re on their best behavior so they can play with their lovely toys that their even lovelier Dad got for them. It looks to me like they want to play with their Dad so bad, that they endured—Merlin forbid—washing their hands and setting the table just to do it.”
Enzo chuckled, squeezing your hand. “It does look like that, doesn’t it? Well, let’s not keep them waiting, darling. We have bags full of toys and two lovely children waiting for us.”
Mattheo Riddle:
girl dad girl dad girl dad
absolutely gonna have a meltdown raising little girls because it means he’s gotta start kicking some little shit’s ass for hurting one of his daughters. you’d seriously have to hold him back once they start showing interest in dating, because he’s not ready for them to be that grown up.
absolutely an affectionate parent. hugs and kisses before bed, he didn’t make the rules he just enforces them. he’d want his kids to feel like there was never a point in their life where they were too old for a cuddle.
deathly afraid of fucking them up. he’d rely on you in the early stages to help him along, but he’d really get the hang of it fast. later on in their lives he’d wonder what he was even so worried about.
would absolutely adore you after you give him kids. he would never whine about being stuck with diaper duty or homework because you already did so much giving him his girls. it’s only fair that he takes care of them—including you.
During Christmas break, your girls came home giggling. It took you days to get them to finally tell you what was going on, and you made them swear not to tell their Dad what happened. They had both met someone they liked over the term and had asked you to help them owl them.
“As a woman, I’m thrilled,” you explained, speaking in a hushed whisper in the kitchen. “And I want to hear all about it. But as your Mother, I’m begging you not to tell your Dad. Do you remember what First Year was like and you two came home talking about all the cute boys at school?”
Your eldest groaned in her chair, looking at her sister. “We’re silent till summer, got it?”
“Got it.”
You woke up the next morning to shouting coming from the kitchen. You rushed out of bed to find your two eldest sitting at the table, their heads in their hands. Mattheo was standing across from them, your youngest in his arms innocently looking up at him.
Your eldest looked up once you walked in. “Help. I’m begging you.”
“Mattheo,” you scolded, giving him a stern look. “They’re our girls—they’re smart, and they’re ready for this. You should be happy they came to one of us first.”
“But they’re my little girls,” he whined, shutting his mouth when your eldest piped in. 
“We’re not little, Dad. Not anymore.”
You watched his face fall, his chest tightening. You gently took your youngest from his arms, passing her to her sisters. You motioned to the living room, nodding your head. 
“Go sit down for a bit, girls. We’ll be right out, yeah?”
They nodded, filing out together. You could hear them whispering as they sat on the couch, giggling. You turned back to Mattheo, gently guiding him backwards until he fell into a seat. He looked up at you with a pout, heaving out a sigh. 
You smiled down at him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Do you remember when we met at Hogwarts? We were so lucky that I was smart enough for the both of us. Who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into if I let you lead.”
“We got into enough trouble,” he murmured, his tone sour.
You rolled your eyes, reaching down to grip his hands. You leaned forward, your knees knocking with his. 
“Listen to me. Our girls are smart—they’ve got their Mother’s intuition, thank Merlin for that. And one day, they’re gonna grow up. But that’s a far day from today. They’re not getting married, love. It’s just a crush. They want to send an owl.”
You squeezed his hands, nodding for him to turn his head to look out into the living room. He turned to see your girls all sitting on the couch together, the youngest in the eldest’s lap. Your older girls were making faces and sounds, trying to get the little one to laugh. She was looking up at her sisters with wide eyes and a bright smile, breathy chuckles pulled from her chest. You smiled, turning back to Mattheo. 
You hooked your finger under his jaw, turning him back to face you. “They’re still your little girls, Matty…they’ll always be your little girls. But we have to help them grow into women. And they need their Dad to help them do that.”
Mattheo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.
“You’re my best girl, you know that?” He murmured into your stomach.
A warm feeling spread through your chest as you smiled. Your daughters interrupted you before you could speak, the middle one shielding hers and the youngest’s eyes. 
“Ew! Stop being gross, Dad!”
Mattheo chuckled, leaning back to look up at you. He glanced over at his daughters, absentmindedly reaching for one of your hands. He interlaced your fingers together, letting out a—this time, content—sigh.
“You’re right. It is going to be a far day.”
Regulus Black:
i feel like regulus would be a very chill parent.
i don’t think he particularly likes children, but he would love his own. he’d adore them when they were all little and cute.
he definitely would be really good at disciplining them. he never has to raise his voice or get physical, he just gives them a look and calmly explains to them what he expects, and they’re content to listen to him. it’s so different than how he was raised, and he would promise you that he’d do better with them than his parents did with him.
he’d be really afraid of hurting them like his parents did. you’d have to assure him every time he felt like he was doing a bad job with them.
when they’re older, they’re totally momma’s boys and girls. when they’re children they couldn’t get enough of him, but as they get older they’d start leaning towards you. he wouldn’t even mind the favoritism, because you’re his favorite too, of course his kids would be smart like their dad.
You and Regulus had a little boy and a little girl together, the boy a few years older than the girl. Sometimes your little boy would play a little rough with her, not understanding that he was too big to be getting that excited with her. 
You’d catch them in the yard, him chasing her around while she dawdled and squealed. You watched through the window, calling Regulus over to come watch. Regulus smiled as he came from your bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window. But your little girl tripped after a while, and your boy was quick to tumble after her, laughing as he fell. He was still giggling when he sat back up, but she sat up with tears streaming down her face.
You quickly rushed out the back door, panic settling in your chest. “What did I tell you about playing rough with your sister? She’s too little, darling!”
You tried your best to remain calm, but you just couldn’t do it. Regulus, however, was as calm as ever. He followed you out the door, walking over to scoop up your daughter. He sat down in the grass with her, cradling her in his lap.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked her, gently shushing her. “You’re alright, it’s okay. Just breathe.”
While you were too busy calming yourself down, you failed to pick up on the shock on your little boy’s face. He was wide eyed, taking rapid breaths. Once your girl was calm, Regulus held his arm out for your boy.
“It’s alright. Everyone is fine. We just have to be careful, yeah? Can you remember that?”
Your boy nodded, and Regulus gave him a grateful smile, pulling him in for a hug. You watched in awe, finally pulling yourself together. You took a breath, sitting down in the grass next to your kids. Your little girl was quick to switch to your lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her tight to you, smoothing your hand over her hair.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you said, reaching your free hand for your boy’s. “You just scared me. I know you didn’t mean it.”
Regulus nodded, giving you a smile before grinning down at his kids. “Lots of excitement this morning, huh? Barely nine in the morning and we’ve already given your poor mum a heart attack. I vote we spend the rest of the morning inside, yeah?”
Your kids nodded, standing up and running inside like nothing had happened. Regulus stood after, offering his hands to you before pulling you up and into his chest. You pressed your cheek into him as you hugged him, letting out a breath.
“You’re a good dad.”
Regulus smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re a good mum, darling. The best.”
A/N - Hi! Hope you liked these! Thank you again for the request, I really enjoyed writing this :)
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darealsaltysam · 2 months
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I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT
below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this
oh my god okay okay where do i even start
opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up
watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok
this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!
i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis
arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie
but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.
i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.
the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this
OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD
jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed
the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH
all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!
once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM
rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it
the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that
okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT
FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER
stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET
just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT
when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.
the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd
GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.
dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.
and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell
speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing
what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah
special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast
WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL
the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS
a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!
anyway. back to the horrors.
i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP
i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me
chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!
SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING
TIMOTHEE
FUCKING
CHALAMET
listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.
he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing
paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting
like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different
what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!
also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg
when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us
also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore
have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her
okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive
chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much
THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD
IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL
THE WORMS
THE SENSE OF SCALE
THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY
THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME
THE SOUND
EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL
the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell
every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis
gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3
the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall
i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell
i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3
OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO
HERE WE GO YALL
THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK
THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!
THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start
okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys
paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around
i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more
i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?
but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.
oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.
theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point
another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!
this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani
chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"
i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.
sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3
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hirukochan · 8 months
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Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut
Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.
Severus and his sunshine
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Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader
warnings: Smut, loss of virginity
Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)
Read on Ao3 or below the cut:
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“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 
It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!
“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.
“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”
“You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.
You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 
Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 
One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.
This you can’t seem to figure out. 
He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 
Emotions are not Severus’ thing.
His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.
He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.
You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 
“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”
“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 
He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 
Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.
But not in a bad way.
He looks good. 
Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.
His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.
So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 
You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.
Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.
Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.
You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.
You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 
You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.
Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.
During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.
You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.
“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.
“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.
“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”
“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 
“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.
“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.
“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.
Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 
“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-
“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.
“As I said - I am here with someone.”
“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”
“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.
That’s right.
Severus is different.
He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.
“Let’s leave, Sev.” 
“Come on, gorgeous!”
“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”
“Sev.”
“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”
“She does not need you for that-”
“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 
The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!
Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.
“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.
“Mh.”
“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”
“Drop it.”
“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”
“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”
“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.
“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”
“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.
“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.
“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”
“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”
“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.
“He made you cry!”
“Why does it matter?!”
“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 
Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.
“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.
“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”
“I thought you’re tired.”
“Say it.”
“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.
“You sound like a spoiled child.”
“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”
“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.
“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 
“Black’s a bastard-”
“This is Warren all over again!”
“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.
“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”
“I-”
“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 
You have always been Severus’ safespace. 
He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 
Why can’t he tell you this?
Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 
You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.
You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.
“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”
“Sunshine-”
“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 
Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 
“I love you.”
You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 
Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.
“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 
You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 
And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-
“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”
“You love me?”
“I love you.”
“I thought you love Lily.”
“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”
Severus loves you.
Has loved you for years.
Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.
Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.
Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 
As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 
You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.
Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.
Everything is good.
“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 
He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.
“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.
He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?
“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.
“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.
Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.
The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.
“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.
“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”
“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”
“You’re here…”
“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.
“Warren-?”
“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.
“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.
“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”
“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”
“Me?”
“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”
“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.
“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 
He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.
You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.
“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.
“Severus-”
“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”
“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.
“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”
“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.
“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”
“It will.”
“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.
“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 
You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.
You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.
“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.
“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.
He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.
“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.
Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.
He loves you.
You still can’t believe it. 
“Sev!”
“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.
“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 
“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.
“Sunshine-”
“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.
“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.
When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.
But he’ll never lose you.
You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”
“It’s your first time I will not-”
“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”
“Sun-”
“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”
The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.
“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 
Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.
“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.
“Sorry-”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.
Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 
It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 
Severus is not good with words.
But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.
“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.
To you he is worth it.
He always was and will always be.
You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.
“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.
He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.
“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”
“Sev-”
“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 
You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.
Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.
“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.
“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.
“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.
“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”
“Hmm…very metal.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Why’d you get it then?”
“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.
“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”
“Idiot.” You giggle.
“I’m going to cum-”
“Cum inside me.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.
His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.
“Severus!”
“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”
“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 
Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.
Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.
You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.
Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.
“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”
“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.
“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 
“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”
“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 
So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.
“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”
You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 
You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.
You send an owl to Dumbledore.
You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.
Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.
“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.
“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”
“Together?”
“Together. I love you, Severus.”
“I love you too, Sunshine.”
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webslingingslasher · 10 months
Note
ok but what if some girl would be saying that she slept with frat!peter after some party (where he was with trouble) and stuff like "oh yeah he had me calling him daddy and he's totally not a boob guy" and trouble overhears her and goes to peter with "you would not believe what i have just heard" and joking that maybe she has magic tits or something
you weren't listening.
minding your own business, pouring liquor into plastic cups, and cracking a can of sprite for a mixer; a group of friends crowded behind you. not listening, but certain words poked out more than others.
"he's fucking jacked by the way, it's like when i hooked up with parker."
your blood ran cold, frozen in place you were straining your hearing for each word to follow, if she didn't add more context you'd be shaking peter by his shirt.
a friend gasps, "you did? when?"
oh, not old news?
yeah, when did she?
flashing your eyes to peter, he's talking to someone and not paying attention. you'll kill him.
"like, around the start of the school year?"
oh thank god, he's in the clear.
"okay, well... spill!"
you can't walk away, your feet are glued to the vinyl floor. maybe, you just want to know if peter's telling the truth when he says you're different than the rest.
"ass man all the way, insisted on doggy. big dick, strong game, threw me around a little, had me calling him daddy and everything. not very affectionate though, i don't think he kissed me, actually. and not a lick of a cuddle after, threw my dress at me and said 'need an uber?' but, hey, i'd still do it again."
another friend cackles, "too bad, nate begged him to do a double date and parker immediately shut it down and said, and i quote, 'no. i have a girlfriend. she doesn't want me dating other girls.' kinda sweet if you ask me."
your heart soars, this is the first time he's ever referred to you as his girlfriend. not that you were, at least not officially, but it's easier to explain than what you actually were, and you had no idea what you were. you assume he doesn't either.
their conversation falls into something else, making you feel confident in moving away from the counter with a full cup in each hand, walking straight to the most interesting man of the night.
peter perking up instantly, leaving his friend with a fist bump, meeting you halfway.
"hi trouble, i missed you." a warm kiss placed on your cheek, you can't help the grin while handing him his drink, "hi handsome, i got a question..." you trail your words off and shift your back against his chest so he'd have a clear view of who you're pointing at.
"see that group of friends, do you know anyone there?"
he barely gives them a look over, one harm slung over your waist, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, "no, don't think so."
nudging him, "no, really. look." a sigh, "looking, no one looks familiar." the back of your head hits his chest, "peter, c'mon. please don't tell me you're one of those guys."
"i don't know what you mean! are you testing me or something?"
turning in his hold, a small pout hangs. "you hooked up with one of them. tell me which one and you earn two brownie points."
that changes things, because now peter knows what the mission is and how to identify previous suitors. mind ticking and eyes running over each body in a different way. watching him analyze is interesting. You wonder what he looks for in a hookup.
"the one in the middle. i'm sure of it, but i can't remember her name. I think it started with an 's' or 'v' maybe 'l'?"
"It's whitney," peter cheers his cup on your shoulder, "oh yeah, that's right."
you spin in his grasp, "liar. i made that up." peter pulls you closer, "you're just so convincing, trouble. call me gullible."
humming, you press a kiss to his chin, "she was talking about you, wanna hear?"
"this feels like a trap, i don't like this idea."
"oh, you should. i heard all about you in bed, and how you told nate i was your girlfriend." peter shakes his head, "i think you've been hitting the sauce hard tonight and you're making things up."
shaking your head like a toddler, "nope, i heard the truth about daddy." peter's head is thrown back with a groan, "alright, wow, we're really doing this. what else did you hear?"
"that you're an ass man, and," you sway on your feet and pretend to twirl a stand of hair, a nasally sarcastic tone rips, "you're like so, super fucking jacked. like, seriously so sexy. ugh! with a big dick too!"
peter presses a kiss to your cheek, "thank you for the compliments, baby." another kiss, the corner of your mouth, "even if you're sarcastic." a delicate kiss to your lips, "and a little wrong."
"which part was wrong? she's right, you've got a fucking wrench."
your cup is pulled from your hand, "alright, it's done. we're done."
a whine, "no! c'mon, please, daddy?"
"i'll silence you and you won't like it."
"will it be with your monster coc-"
a hand is slapped over your mouth, "i'll kill you, and won't have a problem with it."
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luveline · 4 months
Note
hello lovely, I was wondering if I could ask for a soft remus request. maybe loser!reader where someone made them feel invisible and remus comforts them? I hope that makes sense ily <3
ily ty for requesting!! <3 fem, 1.3k
“Come on, poppet,” Sirius says in one of his teasing tones as he puts a hefty looking glass of pale ale in front of you, “cheer up and get sloshed.”
“Oh, I really don’t want to drink tonight,” you say, surprised he’d get you something. 
“That’s for me. This,” —he puts a short glass to the pale ale— “is for you. From him.” 
You look up from the dark table to spy said him across the way. Remus stands behind the bar with a relaxed smile, arms holding himself up and biceps just that little bit tight against his sleeves. You send him a shy smile. 
It’s an ice cold mix of your favourite. You send him another smile as you drink it, not sure how to cope with the fact that he’s still looking at you when you do. He raises his eyebrows a touch before a customer steals his attention. 
“He should really quit,” James says happily. “He’s enabling me.”
You push the bowl of roasted peanuts toward him. “Abstinence,” you say. You’re still feeling wobbly, not quite happy, but better to move forward then dwell on things. Plus, Remus’ nice smile reminds you that he’s on your side.
“Remus gives you a Help to Stop card every time you buy a second round,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. 
“But Marlene lets me drink as much as I want.” James waves at her. She blows him a kiss from the table she’s bussing two chairs over. “Bad place. Takes advantage of me. And there’s too much riff raff.”
You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right.”
They chat to each other enough to make up for your silence and Remus’ absence. He’ll be off any minute now, joining you for a quick drink if he’s awake enough to manage it before you head home. You can’t bring yourself to watch him, knowing he’ll be chatting, giving pretty girls polite smiles and prettier boys their refills. He can be charismatic when he wants to be. He’s a natural flirt deep down. You hope he doesn’t flirt with other people. 
He wouldn’t. 
Or maybe he would? You’re not exciting like that. 
“Penny for your thoughts, lovely girl?” 
He says it quietly, pressing his pet name into the side of your head as he slips into the chair next to yours. Suddenly he’s here. He sneaks up on you too often. 
“Not worth the penny,” you murmur back. 
“I don’t think that’s true. Do you want another drink? I’ve closed my line, but I–”
You shake your head, not having finished the first one he sent over. He smells like the too sweet cloy of beer, but his breath is minty on your cheek. “Fine, be that way. You make it hard to spoil you.”
“Yuck.” 
“Ew,” he agrees. Remus gives the top of your shoulder a gentle shake. “Not feeling well?” 
“She was attacked, Moons, I told you this,” Sirius says.
You glare at him as Remus says, “Mm. You okay?” 
“I wasn’t attacked, that’s– you know. It was the opposite of an attack. I was–” Ignored. You attempt to shove it down even as the memory surges up, the heat of knowing you’d been deemed a loser, the shrug off, the giggling. “Sirius.” 
“What? If I didn’t tell him he would’ve been pissed off with me and you know I can’t afford butter right now. I need my toast fix.” 
James and Sirius are nice, good guys, but Remus is the only person who can really make you feel better. He knows it. You all know it. But it’s too embarrassing to divulge the details of what happened. You’d told Sirius and James in a strange flustered panic as you sat down, and you don’t fancy telling the story again. 
In the bathroom, there had been a group of girls taking photographs. You didn’t know them, but they were around your age, beautiful, and giggling at not being able to fit in one photograph. 
I can take it, you’d offered. That way you can all be in the frame? 
One girl smiled at you but the rest didn’t even look up. You know you’d said it loudly. You seem to have this effect on people. Total invisibility. 
“Can’t afford butter, can’t afford his own pints,” Remus says, reaching under the table to touch your thigh. His fingertips dig into the softer part of the inner thigh as he brushes downward to your knee. “Next I’ll be paying his rent.” 
“It’s the least you could do,” James says. “Do you think they’ll put the rugby on if I ask?” 
Remus stands and beckons for you to come with him. “Where are we going?” you ask. 
“Home?” He holds out his hand for you to take. “The shop first.” 
He twines your fingers and waves to the boys. You’ll see them again in an hour or two when they come home, but as soon as you and Remus leave the pub, you might as well be all alone in the world. It’s dark as pitch despite the early evening hour and twice as cold, wind like needles thrown at your hands. Remus puts his open hand out to pull your empty one into his side. It’s a funny way to walk. 
“Are you terribly upset?” 
“Mm… no,” you decide. 
“James said you,” —his voice turns soft and careful— “looked a little bit welled up. Like you might cry. It’s okay if you were upset.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
“Dove, if you were to be believed, everything is embarrassing. But you’ve never done anything to be embarrassed of.” You take your hands back. “Oh, except that.” 
You laugh as he snatches your hands back, your laughter whipped away with the mean winds as you make your way through the alley that leads to the small corner shop on the way home. “No one sees me like you,” you say. 
“People are fucking rude,” he says with a shrug. “They could’ve at least said they were fine.” 
“I don’t know if it’s rude–”
“It is–”
“I’m a stranger and they were probably fine without my help. But it was weird to have nobody say anything. It made me feel so silly.” 
“If it were you,” Remus says, weight in his words as glances at you from the side, his hair dancing away from his ears, “you would’ve looked them in the eyes and said no, thanks. You would’ve acknowledged them. It’s not kind to treat people like they don’t matter.” 
“I don’t matter.” 
Your weak tone slows his pace. 
“I mean, not to them,” you correct. 
Remus slides an arm over your shoulder, humming from his chest. “Yes, you do,” he says, kissing your cheek, “of course you matter. You’re everything to the people who love you. You’re more than that to me. Please don’t think otherwise.” He presses his lips and chin to your temple. “Yeah?” he asks quietly. “You matter, dove, you do.”
“Why does this happen to me so often?” you ask in a similar quiet. 
“You’re not like everyone else.” He grins at you. “We’re not like other people. Thank god.” His lips press again to your cheek. “I hope all their pictures turn out shit.” 
“Sorry if I’m overreacting.” 
“I think you’re underreacting. I think I should go back and have them banned.” Remus gives you one last kiss before he steps back, ushering you down the pavement to the neon lights of the corner shop. “But I’m going to buy you some chocolates instead. Is that alright? Should I go back?” 
He starts walking back the way you came. You catch tight to his hand and force him into the shop before he can get too far away. 
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fuckmyskywalker · 2 months
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞! — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.
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18+ smut, stripper!reader x dilf!anakin, age gap, lap dance, mutual masturbation, fem!reader/afab!reader | word count: 2.8k (not proofread).
Everyone say "thank you Anya".
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After a nasty divorce, Anakin Skywalker wanted nothing to do with dates— let alone random hookups. Call him outdated or old-fashioned, but Anakin firmly believed in marriage. Maybe he just had bad luck. He has better things to worry about! His children, his company, his 850 credit card score, and… keeping up with his overly cheerful assistant.
Who somehow, managed to convince him to visit the best nightclub in town— and by nightclub, she meant strip club. 
Standing outside the bright building, Anakin wondered how many neon signs were too much. He flickered his cigarette with his thumb, dialing his assistant’s number and watching the ashes fly with the wind, he just wished his hopes didn’t fly that easily. After a few rings, she picked up. “I’m here,” Anakin informed her, feeling as if he was about to start a super-secret mission and he was calling HQ. Lisseth is right, he stays too much at home watching cheesy, 90s TV shows. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Is it obnoxiously bright?” Lisseth asked from the other side of the line, and Anakin discerned the faint click of a lighter. 
“Yes.”
“Then you’re in the right place.”
“Can you repeat why am I here again?” Anakin asked, rubbing his forehead and throwing the cigarette away. 
“Because you are lonely, divorced, and old?” His assistant replied, presumably smoking as well.
“I should fire you.”
“But you won’t,” He didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking. Lisseth was right, she was one of the few people besides Obi-Wan Kenobi— his business partner— who dared to say things straight, and people like that were a nice change in a world where everyone fights for your favor. “Go inside, give it a chance. You deserve a change of scenery. I know you are the committed type. Give yourself a chance.”
Anakin hesitated again, just like he did when he agreed when the young woman texted him the address, and when he called the cab. He had no idea why she would suggest this place from the many—many strip clubs in the city, but he knew better than to question her. He looked around, it was not like he would care if someone recognized him— he just… didn’t want to be recognized. Big difference, or at least that was what Anakin kept repeating.
“Hello?” Lisseth said which brought Anakin back to his senses. He was overthinking it. How can you overthink walking into a strip club? Men do it all the time! “Are you alive?”
“I am.”
“Good. Now get inside, I think there’s an ATM next to the bathroom. I don’t remember— and dial me if you need anything, I’ll try to stay awake.”
Anakin hung up the call, taking a deep breath and pushing the black door open. Multiple times he had heard his associates talk about this place; how the drinks are great and the girls are better— which perhaps was a reason why Anakin was so reluctant. If a married man found this place appealing, he couldn’t imagine what it would have in storage for a divorced man. 
Inside the club, the neon lights were far worse. His eyesight wasn’t bad but the dazzled effect was overwhelming. Anakin fought the urge to rub his eyes, he didn’t want to look that old— so he just brushed the wrinkles off his suit and approached the bar. The bartender eyed up curiously but simply greeted him. The place was crowded but it was somehow comfortable to navigate, he saw a few girls but he felt somewhat strange to stare at them for long. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore— he wasn’t able to see them as a piece of meat like he used to (last time he did he got his first and only wife knocked up).  So he just thanked the bartender for his whiskey and took a long sip, hoping it would ease the knot in his stomach. He was a fast drinker, and he was halfway done with the glass when he heard a voice behind him and a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Is this seat taken?”
Your hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Anakin was aware of the salacious undertone in your voice. It was all fake, part of your job. Looking over said shoulder, his blue eyes met your face, and probably for the first time in your life working in the strip club— you found yourself speechless. You have never seen eyes in such a shade of blue, so deep and so easily to lose yourself in. Your glossy lips went dry for a second and you weren’t sure if he felt the same. 
“It is not,” He replied, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the empty stool next to him. His hand was strong and warm, too polite for a man who was here to watch women half naked. You took a seat next to him just like you intended but your demeanor switched, which was something that surprised you. The blonde stranger didn’t seem to notice it, he knows nothing about you. For the first time, that has worked in your favor. “The name’s Anakin.”
He let go of your hand and you found your finger twitching against your bare thigh. You gave him your stage name and he simply smiled back, bringing the glass up to his lips. You leaned closer, placing your trembling hand on his thigh and squeezing it softly, noticing how his eyes drifted down to your cleavage only to go back to your face. “What brings you here, handsome?” The usual repertory was filled with cheesy phrases, sweet talk, and 101 manipulations. Emptying a man’s wallet wasn’t a hard thing, or at least after months of practice it no longer seemed like a challenge.
“I assume the same as every man here,” Anakin replied, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. He was good, he must be an orator or something. Not everyone can stare into your eyes when your tits are literally out. “But being honest, a… friend of mine insisted.”
“Well, then you have a good friend,” You smiled, thanking whoever pushed him into your arms— even if you already knew the culprit. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your fingers play with the hem of his white button-up, tapping your nails over the ironed fold. 
“I have a few ideas,” He lowers his now empty glass, licking his lips. A simple act shouldn’t excite you but Oh it does. He looks like the type of guy who knows how to please a woman and the type of guy to rock your world…
Too bad that’s against the club’s guidelines.
“Such as?”
Anakin seemed to fall under your sultry voice, smirking and bringing his face closer to yours. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but he just whispered in your ear. “I’m sure you know what I want, and I’m sure you are tired of small talk. Do us a favor and tell me what I can and can’t do.” 
This was the second time in the night you found yourself speechless. Normally you are the one being straightforward, so why is that handsomely old man doing your job? Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s heart was racing inside his chest at light speed. It has been years since he last flirted with someone, let alone a stripper— so he felt quite rough around the edges. It seemed to be working, or at least you faked it really well. Anakin’s charm never faded, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. His bright smile and those wrinkles around his eyes… he could easily be your dad, which shouldn’t be as hot as it sounded. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, silky and smooth. God, there’s nothing hotter than a man that takes care of his appearance. 
“Follow me then,” You manage to say through the loud heartbeat that drowns the loud music around you. You have done this countless times, but this was somewhat different. Why were you acting brand new? Get a damn grip. “You seem like a man who can afford our special treatment.”
Anakin chuckled, he never thought getting robbed would be so sexy. “Do I look special? Or do you say that to every guy?” He followed you anyway, surprisingly lacing your fingers together. His eyes never left yours, not even when other girls and dancers called for him. 
“Believe it or not, you look special.”
As you guided him inside the farthest room in the hallway, you locked the door and kindly settled him on the large sofa against the wall. There was a bed in the center of the bed and a pole next to it, but mostly for decoration. Not everyone had the privilege to fuck, lucky ones got to touch— but Anakin looked like he could win the lottery. This time he eyed you up and down, relaxing over the velvety cushions and spreading his legs. You’ve seen men sit that way countless times yet the way he did it was abysmally distinct. He had an air around him that no one could match and it truly excited you. Time wasn’t really a problem in this room, and he looked like someone who could treat themselves. The treat is a lap dance, of course. 
You picked the music, and that was the only thing that fitted into your routine. The top piece of your heels sank into the fluffy carpet as you made your way back to him, deliberately swaying your hips. Comfortably, you straddled his lap, lazily draping your arms over his shoulders. Anakin’s hands touched your hips and you were about to warn him about the rules… but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment. 
“You’re beautiful,” He whispered, his voice already hoarse. How long has this man been pent up? Only God knows. You giggled and began grinding against him, running your hands up his shoulders and cupping his face. Anakin’s eyes left your breasts to meet yours, lidded eyes heavy with ecstasy that the erotic dance brought him. “So fucking beautiful…”
His presence was starting to be a problem, at least for you. You couldn’t look away or stop your hips from rolling over his growing erection. It was highly unprofessional, even for a stripper but you’ve done worse things— to uglier men. Anakin hissed when you fully sat on top of him, and the grip on your hips tightened. The song changed and neither of you was aware of it. 
Returning your hands to his shoulders you used them as leverage to move, basically humping him without realizing it. You could lie and say this was part of the dance— but in reality, your body was moving on its own.
“Can I touch you?” Anakin requested, huffing and lifting his hips. His cock was aching but not fully hard yet. The right answer was to say no… so your hands reached for his and placed them over your chest. He sighed in clear contentment and cupped your tits, jiggling them softly and running his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you until they peeked underneath the sheer fabric of your lace bra. 
The urge to thank him was very, very present. Words failed you as he lowered the cups of your bra, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his eager mouth. Instantly, you tugged on his curls, just noticing the silver strands. He groaned against your flesh, tugging on your sensitive bud with his teeth and guiding you with his free hand. The dance quickly turned into a session of dry humping— not that you had any complaints. 
Anakin then cupped your center, rubbing his index finger through the thin thong and pushing it to the side. Everything was escalating too quickly and you needed to even it out— mostly to defend your pride— so you quickly unbuckled his belt, and Anakin didn’t even flinch. The tip of his finger ran through your folds and quickly found your clit, faster than any other man you’ve been with. You gasped, yanking his black boxers and biting your lip when you saw his cock. He was fully hard now and it looked like it fucking hurt. Above than average was your first thought, followed by the incessant desire to have him stretch you. From zero to a hundred, probably. Your hand looked tiny around his shaft, which sent a thrill of excitement down your spine. Anakin rolled his eyes and jerked his hips, silently asking for more. He circled your clit with practiced ease and that confirmed your suspicions— he is the type of man who knows what he’s doing and how to do it. 
“Are you always this wet for your clients or am I really special?” Anakin taunted you as if he wasn’t the one paying for the fucking lap dance. To confirm his accusation— because yes, it was an accusation— he sank a finger inside you, curling it softly and rubbing your walls at a slow pace. “I’m starting to think you don’t do this for everyone.”
“I don’t,” You choke, panting and determined to not be left behind. You began jerking him up at the same speed he fingered you. “It takes two to tango, you know?”
Anakin laughed. He dared to laugh. God, this man… “You are feisty, I like that.”
The damned butterflies returned, this time fluttering around your stomach and your pussy. Anakin was good at this. He wasn’t the average pathetic man who couldn’t understand the touch of a woman, nor an ancient dinosaur that was cheating on his wife and shamelessly rocking their wedding band as they threw dollars to your feet. No, he was one in a million. He noticed your silence and took advantage of your blissful state, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside you. If you knew better you would’ve thought he was stretching you. Stepping up your game, you stroke his cock faster, bringing your free hand to your mouth to spit on it, using both hands to touch him. 
That seemed to be a weak spot for him, and you actually heard him moan. It was a raw, guttural groan that made your pussy clench around his fingers. Looking down, you saw the wet, throbbing head, now glistening with your spit and the smeared precum. You could swear he looked thicker— or maybe it was your burning delirium for having him rearranging your guts. 
He wasn’t one to back up from a clear challenge, so he rubbed his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly, pressing tight circles over the spongy spot. Your hips jerked just like he did moments prior and for the first time in a while, you moaned someone else’s name. Anakin seemed to be pleased by your reaction and continued it, exclusively stimulating that spot that built up the recognizable pressure in a matter of seconds. 
“I’m gonna come,” You whimpered, closing your eyes. Anakin’s jaw clenched at the way your pussy sucked his fingers. Would you suck his cock with your velvety walls the same way? “Please, don’t stop.”
“Hold it,” He hissed but it wasn’t a request or anything. “I want to do it with you.”
You held your breath, flicking your wrist up and down, moaning repeatedly at the expertise of his touch. The knot in your lower stomach threatened to snap and holding it was borderline painful. The loud squelch of your cunt made the music surrounding you irrelevant, it was new music that was indeed expensive but— pornographically beautiful. Anakin hung his head back with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His scent was intoxicating, the mixture of his— surely fucking expensive— cologne, aftershave, and salty sweat was drowning you in a needy mess. Dragging you down to his spell when it was supposed to be the other way around. 
“Do it,” He urged you, repeating it over and over. His hard cock twitched in your hands repeatedly until he groaned loudly and his release crashed with yours. “Come for me— come on, princess.” 
Your walls gushed around his fingers, coating them in your own arousal seconds before his cum landed on your hands and your thighs— some on his thighs too. You called his name again, this time in a high-pitched moan. Anakin continued until you were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, absentmindedly jerking his cock again as it started to soften in your hands. Your sweaty bodies were a mess of combined fluids and… broken rules. 
You were in so much trouble.
“See what special guests get?” You painted, finally retrieving his hands from his dick and fixing your bra. “You should be thankful.”
“Oh, believe me. I am,” Anakin purred, grabbing your hips and yanking you closer, finally pressing his lips against yours. “Hope you have a better treat for regular special guests.”
You really, really needed to thank homegirl for bringing him here. 
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mariclerc · 2 months
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An unexpected role (pt.3) | cl16
Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.
a/n: part three of “an unexpected role” this is a bit long, I hope you like it!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
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Things between you and Charles are going smoothly, so much so that he, practically, moved in with you and Lily because, according to him, “I can't live without my girls next to me.” So, that's why you could say that you are already an official couple, something that for you was like being in a fairy tale with your dream family.
For Lily's part, she was more than delighted to have Charles at home with both of you, that made her happy and she likes to see you happy and cheerful, which is something constant with him.
“Mama! Mama!” Lily calls you from her room, you get up from the couch and go to see what's happening, apparently not everything is fine, since she has a pretty sad face.
“What's happening my little peach?” You ask her softly.
“Head hurts!” She says with watery eyes while touching her head with her chubby fingers.
You take her and carry her in your arms and begin to rock her to see if that way the pain can go away a little but she continues to sob.
“Lilytunes, what's wrong sweetie?” Charles asks her softly as he reaches out to stroke her little hair.
“Her head hurts, I have no idea why.” You say and let out a light sigh.
“Ohh my poor baby.” he says while looking at her. “You want dada to carry you?” he asks and she nods slowly.
You hand her to him carefully while he, being very careful with his little girl, he places his lips on her forehead and frowns as he feels her a little bit warm.
“Uh-uh, babe, I think she has a fever.” He says as he picks her up in his arms and rocks her.
It's not the first time this has happened, but every time Lily gets sick or feels unwell, you feel your heart shrink little by little, it may be a little thing, but you can't help but feel that way. Previously perhaps it was worse, since you were alone with her and that led you to feel frustrated and tired... But now with Charles next to you, you feel that not all the weight is on you, he tries to help you as much as he can and you really thank him for it, it's as if in another life he had been a dad.
“Princess, do you want to sleep with mama and dada tonight?” You ask her softly and she just nods, you both walk towards the main room while Lily's in Charles' arms.
“There you go little one, safe and sound with mama and dada!” Charles says as he lies with her in bed.
When you notice that her forehead is very hot, you go to get her medicine, even though you know that she doesn't like it.
“Mama! Mimi is in my bed!” Lily says with a tired voice. “Could you... 'ring her?” she asks softly.
You nod as you approach the door. “Of course honey, I'll bring it to you, stay with your dada, okay?” You say as you go out to the kitchen to get her medicine for these kinds of situations and when you return you go through her colorful room and look for her bunny Mimi.
Upon entering the room you look at Lily snuggled into Charles's chest, who was looking for a little calm in her daddy's arms.
“Okay little miss Lily, it's time for your medicine.” you said while pouring a little bit of medicine on the little cup.
“Nooo!” She said while hiding in Charles' chest while hugging Mimi.
“Come on little princess, I don't think it's that bad... Besides, I'll be holding you protecting you from the medicine monster.” Charles says with a funny voice.
Then you give her the medicine while Charles holds her in his lap to "protect her from the medicine monster", she makes a face of displeasure towards the medicine.
“Calm down darling, It's over, you're safe with us and Mimi.” Charles says as he caresses her back gently.
After a while the fever persisted, it seemed it was going to be like this all night.
“Chérie, what if we take off her pajamas? That might help her, right?” Charles asked in a soft tone of voice.
“That sounds good love, I think that could help her... When she was more little I used to do that.” you smile softly while he handed Lily to you and you carefully took off her onesie and she was left in diapers.
He, very carefully, laid her back on his chest and caressed her hair. You looked at the scene with a lot of love in your eyes, it was something so precious and nice to see. You just hope Lily's fever goes away.
“Great, now she's shirtless like her daddy.” You say with a smile as you give her a kiss on her forehead.
“I am like... Dada!” She says with a tired little smile.
“Yes you are petit papillon, you are super brave and strong like dada.” He says with a smile. (Little butterfly.)
****
The next day Lily didn't have as much fever compared to the night before, but Charles had a... Quite creative idea to make her feel better.
“A bath? I mean, that could help her but...” You say a little unsure.
“No buts honey, it's to help her recover quickly.” He smiles and gives you a little peck on the lips. ”She loves playing in the tub with her toys. And besides, nothing beats a bath with Dada, right, princess?” He asks her to which Lily responds with weakly giggles.
Charles prepares the bath, adding bubbles and Lily's favorite rubber duckies and other toys. He gets in with her, holding her close to his chest.
“There you go little one, nice and warm.” He says in a soft voice as he pours some water on her.
You watch from the doorway as your heart melts. “You're such a natural with her Charles, It's something incredible for me.”
He looks up at you with a loving smile on his face. “She's my little girl too, you know? And taking care of her is the easiest thing in the world, especially with her beautiful mama by my side.”
You decide to join them in the tub, snuggling up to the two of them. Lily snuggles next to you and you notice how her fever drops considerably.
“Mama... Dada” she says drowsily with a little smile.
“We love you sweetheart!” You both say in unison.
After a while they get out of the tub and change Lily into a little cooler clothes. Little by little she falls asleep in bed while you two watch the scene smiling.
“Thanks for this Charles, you didn't have to lose your hours of sleep and...” You say as you look at him, but he silences you with a soft and calm kiss.
“We are a team, remember? And together we can do everything... Even a little princess with a fever.” He says as he pulls you closer.
You nod and rest your head against his shoulder, feeling grateful and happy about you little family and the love and protection that fills your apartment.
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Normal Teenage Things
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contents: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warnings: bad writing (jk...hopefully🥲), language, allusions to sexual themes but nothing too bad in my personal opinion?? author's note: hihi, soooo i've never done this before but i've got ~180 pages of one shots just collecting dust in my docs, so i figured i'd put them out into the world and see what happens !! feel the need to note, i'm dyslexic and also would rather die than proofread so i can promise you that there will be spelling errors but oh well. i'm actually super excited to see how this goes and i guess this means my requests are open?? Mind you, i'm still a new baby to all of this so be kind, pls and thank you!! anyways, enjoy 😌🫶
there was a loud and constant rapping of fists against the poseidon cabin door. it awoke both of the siblings, who were quick to dive under their covers and hope the person would just go away. there was a pause in the knocking before it started again, more insistent and louder. y/n huffed, shooting out from under her blankets, quickly adjusting leo’s shirt to ensure that it covered all of the parts it was supposed to. it was a shirt that had been a stupid gag gift from percy, which read ‘i heart my hot boyfriend.’ the moment leo pulled it out of the wrapping, y/n knew it would become her new sleep shirt. and leo was more than happy to oblige, only getting it back every few weeks when y/n shoved it into his chest, claiming he needed to make it smell like him again.
“the world better be ending,” percy called to y/n and the person at the front door.
“i second that,” y/n told percy before whipping the door open and glaring at will, who still had his hand raised to knock again.
“what? what could you possibly want?” y/n huffed, holding the door open with a raised brow.
“you’ve got a license, right?” questioned will and y/n’s eye twitched. percy started manically laughing in the background, trying to dig further into his bed
“you better be joking,” y/n managed to get out, staring the sunshine boy down.
“look, travis got shot in his foot by an arrow while training and we’ve got to get deliveries out, the infirmary is in desperate need of more bandaids, a few of the little kids birthdays are coming up-”
“okay, okay, breathe, dude. let me get dressed and a little brekky, then i'll take care of it,” cut in y/n, waving the boy off with a small sigh. there goes her plans of spending the day with leo.
“yes! thank you, y/n, truely,” will cheered, smiling brightly.
“yeah, yeah, sing my praises when i get back,” y/n told him before they waved their goodbyes, the daughter of poseidon marching back into the cabin. she glanced over, noticing percy was asleep again before chucking a pillow at him, causing the boy to shoot up and look around in a sleepy haze.
“if i gotta be up, so do you.” “you suck on, like, a major level.”
y/n quickly changed into a pair of carpenter jeans that leo always complimented, murmuring things about her ass into her ear. she then tugged on a navy blue tank top with a ditsy white floral pattern. she swiped her purse and sunglasses off her bedside table before making her way to the dining pavilion, quickly grabbing a breakfast bar and snapping it in half, tossing one half into the fire with a comforting sizzle. she took a bite out of her half before feeling arms wrap around her waist, the girl squealing with a laugh as she felt familiar curls settle against her neck.
“you’re out of dress code, mi amor. gonna have to punish you for that,” he muttered against her collarbone, y/n huffing out a laugh before pushing him off her, looking over her shoulder with a wide smile.
“i’ve got my reasons! travis got hurt, so i’ve got delivery duty today,” y/n informed him, noting the small pout that settled over his lips. she quickly cupped his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “i’m sorry, lee, i know we were supposed to hang out today.”
“who says we can't?” leo prompted, smirking, as y/n could practically hear the cogs in his brain beginning to turn. she squinted at him before he quickly grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her off and towards chiron, who looked up at the pair with a raised brow.
“hey, i’ve just come to get the keys for the delivery truck? travis shot his foot earlier so he can’t drive,” y/n stated, glancing at leo out of the corner of her eye, but figured he’s got his part of this operation covered. chiron nodded, passing the keys and a list off to y/n before turning to leo with a suspicious look.
“oh! you’ve got delivery duty, y/n? perfect! the forge is, like, depleted. we are in desperate need of probably three yards of sheet metal- ah, no, make that six. oh, we also need fourth of an inch bolts, not a third of an inch like last time. definitely need more screws, those fancy gold ones, nyssa’s picky,” leo started to list, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as y/n was desperately trying to follow, knowing what he was playing at, but not necessarily needing to act like she was confused. she was definitely confused.
“you should probably start writing this down,” leo added with a wink, watching y/n’s face fall as she started patting her pockets for a pen she knew she wouldn’t need.
“how- how about you go with her, leo? make sure she gets the correct stuff?” chiron offers, having seen the girl’s panic. leo smiled widely, his plan working just like all his other plans.
“yeah, that’d be best, wouldn’t it?”
“now, no funny business, you two. this is a lot of trust i’m putting in you. if you’re not back by 4 pm, don’t come back at all,” chiron threatened, though they both knew they were empty. leo faked a solute while y/n pulled him away, saying her thanks as she went. she dragged leo all the way to cabin 9, following him into his room as he tugged his camp half-blood shirt off. y/n practically drooled at the sight, a blush quickly settling over her as she tried to avert her eyes and pretend like she hadn't been staring. leo shot a smirk over his shoulder as he picked up another shirt, one of the few normal shirts he had, and tugged it on.
“sorry, babe, shows over,” he told her, watching the blush spread with a smirk.
“whatever. you’d cream your pants if i even thought about lifting my shirt up,” y/n huffed back, shoving his shoulder as she spun around and began making her way out of the cabin.
“correct! you know what your bras do to me.” “don’t talk about my bras.” “you know, i thought they’d be made out of seashells the first time.” “no! leo, baby, why would i-” “i don’t know! daughter of poseidon and all, figured it was, like, in the handbook or something,” leo argued as y/n wheezed a laugh, leaning against him for support. he rolled his eyes at her amusement at him, wrapping his arm around her waist as they made their way to the truck. y/n went to open the driver side door but leo quickly shut it again, looking at her like she was crazy.
“leo, i know you like to open my doors and all-” “if you think you’re driving, you’ve lost your mind,” leo told her, rolling his eyes at her as he swiped the keys from her hand.
“i need to tell will to start harassing one of the many other people who have licenses at this camp,” y/n huffed as she clambered into the passenger seat.
“hmm, maybe, but this is the price you pay for being head camp counselor,” leo mused, giving the girl a cheeky smile. y/n groaned, lulling her head back against her seat as she buckled in.
“ugh, stop reminding me i have responsibilities.” “alright, alright. i’ll make it up to you,” leo started, causing y/n to squint at him in suspicion. “how so?” “iced coffees on travis?” he offered, holding up the son of herme’s credit card. y/n’s eyes instantly gained back the glimmer that he loved so much, making the pickpocketing so worth it.
“all is forgiven, my love!” she cheered, leaning across the middle console and tangling her arms around him with repeated kisses to his face. leo laughed, leaning into the affection without a second thought. y/n pulled back before pressing a kiss to his lips, more solid then the ones before. leo leaned even further, chasing after her lips when she pulled away.
then she reached into the glovebox, producing the one phone that chiron allowed near camp. the hephestus cabin tweaked it the best they could, making it nearly monster proof and demigod safe. it worked well enough for deliveries, gps being needed and all. plus, travis and connor managed to get spotify on it, disguising it as some puzzle app that chiron paid no mind to. y/n had to fork over twenty bucks just to be allowed to use it, as she wasn’t willing to drive around without music and the idiots put a password on it. y/n typed in the password - trav&conrule11 - pulling up her playlist as leo started to drive. she then pulled up the gps, checking to see the first place for deliveries and typing in the address of the small diner a few miles away. they liked the strawberries from camp best, feeling like they were supporting a small business when it was anything but. y/n listed the directions out for leo, knowing he’d just tune the robotic voice of the gps out. his fingers drummed across the wheel, his other hand playing with the rings on y/n’s hand, his thumb twisting the promise ring he’d given to her a few months ago, which caused his lips to twitch upward. eventually, they pulled up to the diner, y/n hopping out and moving towards the restaurant, the owner cheering as she greeted the girl, who she knew very well, leo trailing behind.
“y/n!! it’s good to see you, honey! they keep sending those rambunctious boys, we’ve been missing our girl,” the woman, mrs. ferrara, greeted, pulling the girl closer by her cheeks and kissing both of them. she was a short and stubby italian woman, but she held a kindness in her eyes that made her popular with the camp half-blood kids. she loved all of them, most itching for a chance at delivery duty to see the woman who’s become like a grandmother to a lot of them.
“you love those boys,” y/n mused as she passed her the clipboard, which needed a signature. she threw a glance over her shoulder at leo, smiling brightly at him which he returned tenfold.
“yes, but you’re my favorite,” mrs. ferrara replied with a wink, easily signing her name like usual.
“hey!” leo argued, crossing his arms with a frown. mrs. ferrara laughed as she walked around the counter, patting his cheek as she went past.
“much love to you, dear, but my y/n holds a special place in my heart,” the woman continued propping the door open so leo and y/n could easily bring the boxes of strawberries in. well, leo. because the moment y/n went to grab a box, he smacked her hands away and shot her a glare. she rolled her eyes with a huff, going off to hang out with mrs. ferrara who was more than happy to indulge the girl. they left soon after, though not without more kisses to both of their cheeks and breakfast sandwiches shoved into their hands.
“mmm, perks of delivery duty,” leo all but moaned, munching happily on his sandwich, which y/n plucked from his hands so he could turn the truck. “one of the few,” hummed y/n in response, finishing off hers and throwing the tinfoil into her purse to toss out later. she returned leo’s to his outstretched hand as she crossed out mrs. ferrara’s diner on her list, following down to the next stop.
“ugh, we’ve got to go to that stupid stuck up office,” y/n groaned, leaning her head back against the headrest, her lips set in a deep frown. leo looked at her for far too long before returning his gaze to the road, one of his hands leaving the wheel and smoothing over her jean clad knee. “it’ll be quick and i can talk to mr. stuck-up,” leo replied, earning a snort from y/n, a smile slowly growing on her lips before she shot across the middle console, her lips pressing against his cheek.
“my knight in shining armor,” she murmured again his cheek and a blush rose to his ears. “hm, no. don’t like how i looked in the armor at camp,” he smirked back, feeling y/n’s laugh bubble out of her.
after a few directions from y/n, they pulled up outside a bland looking building, the gray brick walls hiding one of those artsy-fartsy office buildings for some small newspaper. they liked to keep a ‘chill work environment,’ the place being filled with ping-pong tables and snacks, which included strawberries from camp. it would probably be fun, if the manager wasn’t so dreadful. y/n basically hid behind leo the whole time, glancing at her watch like they were in a rush while the guy ranted about immigration or whatever racist thing he had to say in that moment. leo’s eye twitched every now and then, but he kept a tight smile on his lips before swiping back the clipboard and slamming the boxes of strawberries down on some pool table. the two scrambled out of there, repeatedly pressing the button for the lobby in the elevator. they practically ran all the way back to the truck, snorts of laughter falling out of their lips as they jumped in.
they did a few more uneventful deliveries before finally reaching the little drive-thru coffee shop, y/n practically buzzing in her seat. typically, people with adhd tend to avoid coffee since it has the opposite effect on them. y/n, with her adhd being slightly less than standard, was an avid coffee drinker. leo couldn’t handle it, he’d be asleep at the wheel in seconds. he tended to stick to sweet tea or lemonade, occasionally an energy drink. the tea reminded him of sticky texas heat, which always brought a soft smile to his lips. leo easily ordered for the two of them, knowing y/n’s order better than his own. he proudly presented the coffee to the girl, who squealed as she took it into her hands.
“thank you, my sweet boy,” she cheered, her lips wrapping around the straw. leo laughed as he pulled away, waving kindly to the worker as he got back on the road.
“anything for you.” “don’t get sappy on me, valdez. gonna make me fall in love or something.”
their next stop was home depot. leo wasn’t completely lying to chiron when he said the forge was depleted, it was actually getting pretty empty in there. y/n took a long sip from her coffee before leaving it in the car and jumping out, going around the car and taking leo’s outstretched hand, wrapping her arms around his one. leo then pulled her closer to his side, pressing a kiss to her head before walking into the store. he knew his way around, almost like it was ingrained in his mind, and y/n liked to imagine that all children of hephaestus were just born with a map of home depot in their head. leo started grabbing things as he went before looking down at his full arms with a sigh, looking over at y/n. “could you-” “i told you we should have grabbed one at the start!” y/n huffed at him, rolling her eyes with a smile.
“i didn’t think we needed this much stuff,” leo called after her as she went to get the cart, the girl waving him off over her shoulder. he stood there inspecting the screws while he waited. leo frowned as he leaned closer to inspect a type of screw, muttering under his breath. after about twenty minutes, he was starting to get worried about y/n before she finally came back into the aisle with a cart. “lee! i had to walk across the whole store and i got lost, like, twice. you cannot leave me in here or i’m never getting out,” y/n laughed as she walked towards him. leo's eyes seemed to get caught on something, his attention being held elsewhere.
“leo? you good?” y/n asked, her brows furrowing at the lack of his joking response. “huh? yeah, yeah, no, i’m good. i’m…i’m great, yeah,” leo replied, finally pulling his eyes away from where the man had been and turning back to y/n, a smile stretching over his lips as he dumped the contents of his arms into the cart.
“you wanna do something fun?” he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye in the way he knew she loved. y/n nodded instantly, leo always brought a fun side out of her that no one else did. he shoved the stuff to one side of the cart, pressing his foot against the wheel to keep the cart still, before turning to y/n and holding one of his hands out. y/n took them, still not completely sure what was going on before leo moved his other hand to her hip and helped her into the cart. giggles instantly left y/n’s lips as she sat down in the cart, her leg’s spilling over the side. leo laughed with her, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling the cart behind him. y/n proudly took stock and organized the cart, always knowing what they had and what they needed.
“hey, no, come on!” a voice shouted, y/n and leo’s head turning from the leather dye in front of them to the angry worker marching towards them.
“you two!” he called again, pointing at leo and y/n. “us?” leo asked, his brows furrowing as he pointed into his own chest. “yeah, you. come on, twelve and under are allowed in the carts. you’re, like, twenty,” the worker huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his feet. “ouch,” y/n muttered, shooting a glare at the man as leo helped her out, his hands firmly against her waist, “do i really look twenty, lee?” “nah,” leo mused, shooting a look at the man. “thank you. have a good evening folks, but if i catch you doing it again, i’ll ban you,” he stated, pointing at the two before marching off. y/n leaned up to leo, who leaned down to her. “do you think he gets more money if he tells a certain number of people off in a day or does he just take his minimum wage job too seriously?” she whispered and leo laughed. “definitely the latter. a fun person does not walk like that,” replied leo, causing y/n to giggle into his side.
finally, y/n managed to drag leo out of the store, though not before paying an arm and a leg. y/n refused to look at the cost, turning away with every beep of the scanner. leo rolled his eyes at her, seeing as neither of them had to foot the bill, but it rather came out of the camp expenses card. they lugged their copious amounts of metal and whatnots that y/n didn’t see the need for, shoving it into the back of the truck where the strawberries had been. y/n then bounced into her seat, rubbing her hands together in excitement as she looked over at leo, who got into his seat with a strange look to the girl beside him.
“off to target, my fine chariot!” she cheered, pointing off into some direction with a laugh. leo shook his head at her, laughing at the pure stupidity.
“yes, m’lady!” he called back in response, getting more joy out of the giggles than he ever thought possible.
y/n led the charge at target, leo basically being dragged behind the girl, his hand firmly shoved into her back pocket, something about not losing her. she rolled her eyes at him but walked slowly enough for him to keep up with her. she stockpiled chocolates, stuffed animals, and little gifts into leo’s arms. each collection was specified to the child, y/n always determined to go above and beyond for the younger kids. she then grabbed a bag of peanut m&m’s and salt and vinegar chips, winking at leo so he’d know those were her special treat to them. they left the store, leo proudly carrying the bags without even giving y/n a chance to grab them.
the drive back to camp was relatively uneventful, y/n just letting the music play as she started signing cards for the kids, leaving specific and heartfelt messages for them. then she’d pass them around camp, letting others leave notes until the paper was overflowing with love and birthday wishes. leo focused, to the best of his ability, on driving though it was all in vain. he’d glance over at y/n, the girl being perfectly framed by the vibrant pink and orange hues of the sun setting and just get lost in it; the sight of her, the heavy feeling of love in his chest, the way she’d wrinkle her nose at him when she caught him staring. he’d return his eyes to the road, a smile gracing his lips as he knew he must’ve done something right with his life, y/n being with him proof enough.
author's note cont. : ahhh! I'm actually so proud of this anyways- if you hate it, ya'll i need you to lie to me because i cannot handle not being perfect actually. anyways, i will admit this was kinda thrown together but i'm still happy with it. wish all of you who made it this far the best of days!!
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 4 months
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Ravel
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A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard
{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: T
Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.
Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited
Word count: 2k
Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!
There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.
I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️
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Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.
He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.
Your sweater.
The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.
Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.
Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 
Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.
As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.
He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.
The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 
Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’
‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.
Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’
Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’
The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’
‘... A sweater.’
Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’
‘You think?’
‘Want me to go get Lucy?’
With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’
At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’
Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’
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Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 
The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.
Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.
He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.
‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’
Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’
‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 
A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.
He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.
‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’
‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.
He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 
‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.
Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.
You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’
He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’
His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’
He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’
You frown at him. ‘Why?’
‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’
You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.
He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.
Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.
Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.
Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’
You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’
Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’
You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’
Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’
Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.
And yet. 
You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 
‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.
He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’
You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 
‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’
He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’
‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’
Joel pauses. 
For him.
For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.
And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.
His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.
A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’
It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 
‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’
‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.
Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’
You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’
Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’
Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’
He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’
You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’
‘I know you are,’ he smiles.
‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’
His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’
You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.
In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’
His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’
‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.
‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.
You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’
Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’
You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’
Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.
Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.
He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.
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Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️
More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months
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a spider!reader who gives off “sweet girl next door” vibes? she tries to bring miguel cookies with he’s working on something and he scares her, coming off more angry than intended, and ends up dropping them on the floor. (collect groan lmao)
contains minor spoilers to across the spider-verse pt 2
you’d been thinking all day after the whole fiasco of recruiting gwen that miguel needed cheering up.
margo warned you not to, said, ‘he’s a grump. let him grump.’
but you hadn’t been able to take that answer. there was something about miguel that didn’t just scream grump. something seemed tired about him.
so, you tried your hand at baking him something. you’d debated for a long time of chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal cookies were more his style.
you decided on chocolate chip.
you spent two days on them, using a recipe which required brown butter, overnight chilling and a lot of dark chocolate.
you got a lot of flour on you as you baked them, watching them rise and then spread out on the floor of the kitchen.
when they were done you packed them up in a cute purple box you snagged from the cafeteria.
your heart leapt to your throat as you turned down the corner to HQ, hoping that you wouldn’t catch miguel at a bad time.
that hope is decimated when you walk in and find him grumbling to his computer.
“um, miguel?” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stand in the archway.
“what? what do you need?” he huffs and you feel some of your momentum dry up.
“i brought something for you, but if you’re busy-“ it appears that was the wrong thing to say.
“of course i’m busy! i’m always busy trying to keep the stupid multi-verse from collapsing. maybe some other time we can chit chat.”
you’d never actually been on the receiving end of miguel’s upset, and maybe this wasn’t exactly for you but his tone and the way his arms are flailing around his body makes you feel small in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.
“right,” you whisper, managing not to cry as you jolt and the box of cookies fall. “i’m sorry for bothering you.”
miguel watches as you don’t even bend to pick up the box. he watches you turn like you’re being remote controlled and he catches sight of your hands wiping at your eyes.
“great, you’ve made her cry casanova.” lyla appears suddenly, foot tapping in air as her arms cross over her chest.
“so now i’m the bad guy?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. he feels like the bad guy. guilt and shame burn his throat and belly like he’s downed two tequila shots with no lime or salt.
lyla flits to the box, “she made you cookies.”
miguel sighs, hands scrubbing at his face as he steps off the platform to pick up the box. in your neat cursive he notices you’ve written, ‘a pick me from having to do all the hard stuff.’
he wants to smash something. of course he’d blow up at possibly the nicest spider-woman variant. of course he’d be the asshole to make you cry too.
“where is she?” he asks lyla as he sets the box on the desk and opens it to find the cookies all broken. they smell delicious - something close to that bakery you liked when you’d visited earth-2067 with him on a scouting mission.
you and miguel always make a great team on missions and he hates to admit it but he’s very fond of you and he knows you're fond of him too.
it’s why his chest is aching and he needs to find you. “lyla, where is she?”
“in her room, blasting music and cleaning. give the girl a moment alone before you barge in there and make it worse.”
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